Oh and Warning: Slightly angsty chapter, I tried to alleviate it with some comic relief from the great James Potter, though... enjoy.
Sirius forgot about his journal for the next three weeks. A full moon and the year’s first quidditch match had passed and October was greeted with reluctance because of the cold and the wilting summer season. Even James’ birthday had been dismissed, which Remus thought was odd, considering it was such a momentous Marauder occasion. Remus remembered it particularly well, because it had been the first time he tried vehement vodka. Peter had passed out and they spent the night trying to hide him properly.
The next entry was not until October 12th and it was a dull entry at that, having do with Sirius’ loathing of Flich and how it was his sixth detention already. Remus was on the verge to throw the diary and never look at it again, because of a comment made about McGavott, but a word on the following page caught his eye, so that he was urged to read on. He flipped to the date October 30th, where he had seen the phrase full moon.
October 30th:
Full moon approaches.
Remus frowned, that was all? But then that old sensation returned. The past became present. A new memory set forth...
“And so I thought to myself, what a bloody brilliant idea!” came Sirius’ voice with a hint of arrogance.
The low tinkle of china and cutlery mixed with an occasional hollow thud of tankard against table rose, and the sights and sounds of The Three Broomsticks materialized before Remus. An elderly wizard conversing with a goblin laughed heartily at a table in the back, and a band of middle-aged witches were busy exchanging gossip in a low, secretive murmur. At the bar sat Moony, Padfoot and Prongs sipping what they claimed was butterbeer. They had the attention of an attractive young witch, donning glittering blue heels and deep red lip colour. She was listening to Sirius with a cross between a smirk and a smile, eyeing him a tad fondly (no doubt he was a catching young man).
“Do tell!” she urged with false seduction.
Sirius’ charming half smile crept slyly to the side (Remus noticed the witch’s cheeks glow a shade pinker). “After all, we could go for another few years at Hogwarts- not that we fancy schooling, but imagine the possibilities, we could find out loads. Um, not that we already haven’t, but the possibilities are endless, extraordinary!”
“With a time turner,” James put in, muffled as he took one giant swig from his whisk- sorry, butterbeer.
“Oh I don’t know,” said Moony with a warning tone. “What else did you say was extraordinary? Oh yes, eau de cologne.”
Sirius narrowed his eyes. “That wasn’t my idea, we owe that one to Prongs.”
“Hey! I had good intentions!” cried James, dribbling liquid down his front.
“What’s this now?” the witch chuckled.
“Just one more thing I’ll be judged for at heaven’s gate,” sighed James.
He looked away for a moment, contemplating briefly about his eternal resting place. He feared they might turn him away at the gates of heaven and send him directly to hell. In his mind Filch was the heavenly judge who condemned him to eternal damnation for too many detentions.
“No but honestly,” continued Sirius, “It’s brilliant don’t you think Rosmerta dear?”
The witch raised one darkly stenciled eyebrow, biting her lower lip. “What’s brilliant Master Black, is how you all made it down here so late at night. Why I could’ve sworn curfew was always nine o’clock. In my day”
“Ah yes, but your day was four years ago and things have changed sweetheart.”
“Oh don’t fool me with that, I know perfectly well it’s past your bedtime! Too late for Pettigrew was it? No, he really doesn’t seem like the drinking sort,” Rosmerta mused airily.
James and Sirius exchanged devious looks. “Oh you might be surprised. He shocked us all when he downed six bottles in a two hour sitting. On James’ sixteenth, you know, banged things up with a swig or two!”
Rosmerta leaned in further to Sirius and pouched her lips somewhat as she said, “You hold your secrets with me on such high esteem Padfoot, love.”
“You know I’m only flirting,” he winked, and drank from his flask.
Rosmerta shook her head humorously, her tight flaxen curls falling over her eyes as she slapped him on the shoulder. “That’s enough young man,” she laughed, “It’s only gilly water for you from here on out. Op! Looks like Mr. McClure’s getting a bit dry, back in a minute lads.” Rosemerta gathered up the hem of her lusty cocktail dress and swept to tend to the customer.
“Wish there was one like that for every man,” Sirius whispered to James.
James smiled but said nothing and took out the snitch from his pocket. He did this every so often now, when things were going slow or when he felt methodical, he’d pull the snitch out and toy with it. Though, Sirius knew the real reason for this action.
“Any new news on it? Is she still not confessing?”
What he meant by ‘not confessing’, was Evans of course. She was still adamant and tightlipped, not willing to discuss the snitch with James or anyone for that matter. She acted as if she’d honestly never seen it before, and now James was even starting to doubt if Peter had made it into the girl’s dorms at all. Hope was just a sliver in his mind, but he held onto it nonetheless.
“Would Lily ever?” James kept his eyes to the snitch as he spoke, but it was a lost, kind of hollow voice that responded. “I’d be fooling myself if I thought she would. No Padfoot... its no use.”
“It’s only October Prongs, you’ve got months to go at her, years maybe even. It’s nothing to worry on, you’ve got loads of time!” Sirius clasped James reassuringly on the shoulder.
Deep down, Sirius knew he was telling the greatest lie, but he didn’t want James sullen on such a joyous evening. He didn’t want James drunk whilst in a depression, that really would turn things sour. Giddy and vivacious was the best way to get tipsy in Sirius opinion, although his downs were his main reason for that hypnotizing realm.
“Loads of time? Do I really?” James asked himself weakly, distant.
“There are other ways too,” offered Sirius. “Take a look around, you’re clever James think of something.”
James’ eyes flashed up with a sudden idea. Sirius did not seem to notice, looking warily in the direction of Moony. He proceeded to whisper in his companion’s ear. “Well let’s not bring this out on Remus, with the full moon tomorrow night and everything.”
The bright look in James’ eyes dimmed and he nodded quickly in agreement, covering up with a deep gulp from his tankard. The least thing he wanted was to have Moony think they were talking behind his back.
But now Moony was out of earshot. Feeling excluded from the conversation, he had traversed to the back to mix himself something a bit more robust. Not only were the Marauders the kings of Hogwarts, but of Hogsmeade and The Three Broomsticks especially.
The month had been a fairly pleasant one for Moony. He and McGavott were growing all the more close (Evans was finally beginning to accept their arrangement), he was acing his classes and besides one detention, sixth year was turning out as benign as can be for the Marauder’ s docile hearted werewolf.
The approaching full moon had been something to dread for young Remus, and despite the reassurances of his friends, that they would make it an adventurous affair, he still had his doubts... and fears. But that was Moony, ever cautious, leery, and mild. Not as mild as some may have thought though, his temper was never to be crossed. With the blood of a werewolf running through his veins, he couldn’t help but be a little savage in some instances. McGavott could even attest that he was somewhat “forceful”, but one should really stop there.
“You’re doing it again,” Sirius nudged James.
James jerked out of his daydream. “What, what am I doing?”
“That creepy trance thing Prongs. It’s just a bit chilling, a few more seconds of it and you might just never come back. Tell me where it is you go, La la land or Lily Land, perhaps both.”
James didn’t laugh or smile, but had the expression of someone in a deep comical thought. Suddenly he blurt out the strangest phrase, and quite loudly too. “I want her so badly, Sirius!”
Sirius was taken aback. “Excuse me?”
James threw up his arms “I’ve got it! Kill me Sirius, take away my life because I sure don’t want it if Evans won’t be mine!”
Padfoot yanked what was indeed firewhiskey out of James’ hand. “That’s enough drink for you! Shut it Prongs or I’ll slap you silly!”
“No really, kill me!” James squalled, grabbing back the tankard. “Slap me silly? Well I’m already mad enough, crazed!”
“Lighten up, will you!” hissed Sirius, grabbing him by the arm. He had never known James to burst out quite like this, and attributed it to the ale.
“I don’t think you get it Padfoot, it’s Evans or death!” James proclaimed gallantly.
Sirius was beginning to notice the dodgy looks they were receiving, James was being very loud. “It’s either St. Mungo’s or your mum, who would you like me to contact?”
“No, no bring me Evans and an eternal sleeping draught!”
An elderly witch a table away boomed to her companion, “Ah, the drink always does bring out confessions of the heart! Poor lad, so young too.”
“James tone it down, it’s lost its humor. I’m serious.”
James smiled with a goofy kind of air. “I know you are, but what am I?”
It would have been funny if in different circumstances, and Sirius looked like he was on the brink of laughter, but retaliated severely. “Quit it Prongs, you were perfectly sane two minutes ago, are you trying to make us look like...like, dammit Prongs, knock it off!”
It was no use.
“A dagger Sirius, bring me a dagger, upon which I may lay my pale worthless carcass!” James was raving dramatically (overly, almost comically so), shaking Sirius. “Oh woe! Oh woe! Evans, what I would do for Evans!”
Sirius’ head was spinning a little, he swore never to drink so much in one night, and shoved a wailing Prongs off him. “Get off me you ham, this is ridiculous!”
James was caught in a great emotional sob, when the shop bell tinkled with the departure of three customers. Immediately, almost as if on cue, James wiped his brow and settled himself peacefully back at the counter, as if nothing had happened at all. Sirius was thoroughly confused and wasn’t about to forget the outburst as quickly as Prongs.
“What the hell was that!” he hissed.
“Didn’t you see?” James asked blankly.
“See what exactly, it was kind of hard to see anything once you got so clingy!”
“Didn’t you see who just left?” questioned James calmly, making Sirius’ blazing temper seem like a childlike tantrum.
“No.”
“The Bones sisters, the older ones, three years older than us...”
“Yes, I know,” snapped Sirius. “What about them?”
“Let me finish Padfoot, it was the Bones and that dingbat Bertha Jorkins.”
“So what are you competing with her now, what’s your point?”
“They heard,” shrugged James simply.
Sirius nearly toppled off his stool as he blazed, “Well of course they heard you James! Every damn soul in this wretched facility heard you! You might as well have wailed it at Evan’s window. Everyone heard!”
“Exactly the intent,” Prongs said crisply.
It took Sirius a moment. “What?”
“You think the Bones could keep such a juicy bit of information to themselves, that Mister James Potter is fit to internally combust if Evans doesn’t concede to his...” James paused with a devilish look. “Longing.”
“But Jorkins? Oh you really set yourself up good Prongs, the whole country will know now! Everything that comes out of Bertha’s mouth spreads like wildfire!”
James seemed pleased with the comment, and grinned, “I know that, and that’s exactly my point.”
Sirius scrunched up his face, “You-you, what? Big mouth Bertha...”
“Yes,” mused James. “Surprises me really that two logical girls like the Bones’ would even associate, but well... stop looking so confused Padfoot, it was intentional!”
“You planned that?”
“In a way.”
“Clever, Prongs, clever,” Sirius marked darkly. “Humiliate me for your own personal gain, I feel well used.”
James didn’t seem to notice Sirius’ sarcasm, or ignored it more likely. “Well maybe I’ll have planted a seed of guilt in Evans.”
Sirius was still frowning, his dark brows furrowed. “I’d like that birthday present I gave you back.”
A little breathless, Rosmerta whisked back, studying James with concerned eyes. “Are you all right, Potter dear? A chap back there said you were raving!”
Taking the liberty upon himself to grab a bottle from behind the counter, James uncorked it with a pop. “Just fine love, and by this time tomorrow I’ll be even better.”
He gave her a wink and brought the fizzling bottle to his lips. Rosemerta merely shrugged, and Sirius shook his head, laughing, “Oh I wish I could understand you Prongs.”
Moony had returned from the back just in time to here the last fragments of James’ statement. He looked exceedingly bewildered. “I wish I could understand the both of you.”
Remus' heart skipped a beat when he read the following date...
Friday, October 31st, 1975:
A whirling gray mist captured Remus and with a mix of his apprehension and fear, he let the memory take him, no matter how much he wished to avoid it. "Why oh why of all days did Sirius have to journal on Halloween of their sixth year?" the words cried in Remus' head, "Oh why?"
The mist drifted away, and a bitter autumn breeze swept by, hollow, screeching gusts, leaves of color shuddering in the wind. Students were traversing back to the castle, from a lesson with Professor Snub for Care of Magical Creatures. It was midday perhaps, judging by the position of the harvest sun, shrouded by the clouds, creating a gloom. Among the students, was found James and Sirius, as always with their heads together, laughing. Moony was trailing behind with McGavott, a crimson and gold scarf was tied around his neck, and he was flushing, the air biting his cheeks.
If you will remember, full moon was soon to be on the rise. Sirius and James had gone to great lengths to ensure Moony would keep his girl this time, and that no full moon could keep him from a normal love life. They had gone to such great lengths that they rouged Moony up with some Madame Vanteuse Pinky Cheek Applicant, and insisted he wear a muffler to hide his draining color. They had however failed to hide the purple bags beneath his eyes, which gave him the look of someone deprived of sleep for a millennia. Where was Peter? Back with Snub, receiving a lecture on his work habits. The Marauders hadn’t bothered to wait. They knew he’d be there a long while.
Remus caught up with Sirius and James, hearkening to their conversation, he wasn’t the only one though.
"Well I must say Prongs, you're certainly pulling it off well," said Sirius.
He was wearing a crimson beanie, and from the looks of things, Prongs had tried the same, giving him an especially bad case of hat hair (one side was flat, the other side stuck up weirdly as usual). The cold did not suit James at all, it made that long nose of his tomato red and his cheeks bubble gum pink, where it merely brought out a vibrant glow in Sirius’ opaque tones. James opened his mouth to answer, when bounded up McGavott.
“Pulling off what?” she chirped, bouncing along side Sirius.
She was doing this quite a lot now, seeing how she and Moony were dating, she automatically thought herself privy to the Marauders personal affairs. And though loyal to Moony, she couldn’t help but tag along Sirius’ side. He was really eye candy more than anything. Usually flattered by this kind of treatment, Sirius couldn’t help being annoyed with the nosey brunette.
“Pulling off what?” Mackenzie repeated again, when Sirius failed to answer.
“Pulling off Stover’s robes,” he muttered without giving her a look.
“What?” McGavott squealed, taken back the scandalous idea.
James laughed, and being the kinder heart, soothed her with a lie. “Just quidditch stuff McGavott. Sirius can’t help it if his mind’s always wallowing in dirty thoughts.”
Sirius slipped James a quizzical glance.
“Oh!” Mackenzie cried in a shocked and somewhat disgusted tone, inching away, fearful of Sirius scanning her with his “dirty” eyes. “Well I’ll uh... find Remus, bye.” Sheturned a one-eightyand went back to Moony.
“Cheerio m’dear,” James smiled after her, twiddling his fingers in an airy wave.
“Thanks for that, now she thinks I’m a pervert,” grumbled Sirius.
“Well you are,” James grinned. “And besides, now she wont come around, so things do work out.”
They had reached the castle threshold, and now safe from the violent autumn wind, Sirius removed his knit cap, shaking his hair out like a dog. James watched with a bit of envy.
“Can you do that somewhere else?” he asked irritably.
“What? Ugh, now I’m all itchy. Got a comb Prongs? Lovely, hat hair!”
James rested one hand on his hip and frowned. “You know I don’t own a comb, I’ve never owned a comb in my life, that’s almost insulting! You don’t need one either. I don’t see anything wrong.”
Sirius tossed his hair back and grinned. “You’re looking green.”
“Oh don’t say that, last I looked I was rosy red with... hmm what’s the word, grief? No, that wouldn’t make me red would it? Evans, yes that’s it. But look at you Padfoot, I think you’re loosing some color.” James observed, faking concern.
“I am?” jumped Sirius, clutching his cheeks, and then read James’ humorous smile. “Yeah right, can it Prongs. Now remember, you can’t blow your cover. Evans thinks your fit to die. Shall we practice those woeful eyes?”
James did his best Bambi impression, which was very moving since he’d had much practice in his animagi form.
“Quite good,” Sirius marked. “Although, I might whimper a little. Oh, and a few tears wouldn’t hurt either.”
Padfoot and Prongs swaggered away laughing at their own genius, truly the masters of the school.
Word had spread like Sirius said it would, that James was near suicidal with love for Evans, if one can even put it that way. Either way, it had come across that James was mad in love with her, and that rejection just might kill him. Big mouth Bertha and the Bones were exactly the kind of gossips James had been aiming for, and his plan was turning out better than expected. (A/N: No Bertha is not at Hogwarts with the Marauders at this time, but you know how word flies.)
Everyone had been especially careful when talking to him, complementing him on any little thing, and gingerly catering to his feelings. Sirius had commented that everyone was being so damn smarmy, but James ate up the attention, even contemplating being “suicidal” everyday. He hadn’t talked to Evans yet, but eagerly awaited Transfiguration, where McGonagall still ordered him to sit next to her. His only fear was that McGonagall might blow his cover. She really had such a nasty way of exploiting his mischievous plots.
Fortunately, Potions with Vicar was next and he could think up the proper words to keep McGonagall at bay in the meantime.
In the dungeon, James was surrounded by a group of over sympathetic girls, brewing his potion for him, as they listened intently to his pitiful tale of longing for Lily.
“She’s such a sweet girl, and I know she’d never do anything hateful, but this neglect! Oh, I feel faint!” James brought his hand dramatically to his heart and lolled his eyes.
“Give him air girls, give him air!” squealed Judith Stebbins, fanning him quite uselessly with her quill.
Two cauldrons off, Lily was watching with a curious eye. Sirius was her partner, he was taking the place of Elise Collier who had been ill that past few days.
After that night she had found him in the common room, Sirius had always made a point of being kindly to her, and avoided calling her Little Miss Ugly. Yet his feelings for her hadn’t blossomed any since then, mainly because the day after, when in class, Elise had returned to her old bespectacled self, drab bun and all. She was hardly as attractive as he had seen her that one night, and as the quickly as the winter frost, his feelings for her had melted away.
He now sat next to Evans, reclining his chair back on two legs, and watching her brew their potion with a bored, lofty expression.
“Might think of stirring it Evans, it’s looking gloppy,” he suggested.
He was waiting for her to reply with some snide remark about him doing it himself, but she failed to answer, her sights on James. She was sloshing the kettle spoon aimlessly in the potion, causing its contents to spill out over the side.
“Oh what’s he at this time?” she grumbled.
Sirius’ eyes widened at the purple liquid oozing out the side of the cauldron. “Evans, hey Evans! It’s boiling over!” he jumped from his seat and pushed her aside, lowering the flamed beneath the cauldron.
“Could’ve scalded yourself!” he cried, but this still hardly seemed to faze Lily.
“Oh sorry, I... Just what is Potter doing?” she crossed her arms, greatly reminding Sirius of Mrs. Potter in a fit with James’ behavior.
Sirius knew this was his moment. He tossed his hair back, hoping to catch her with his suave debonair. “Haven’t you heard?”
“Heard what?” she asked, stirring the potion so carelessly now, that it was spewing every which way (James was still distracting her sights).
“James nearly had a... erm, incident last night. I suppose they all want a first hand account of it.”
Lily frowned, the potion was making a high-pitched hissing sound, but she didn’t seem to notice. “I-incident? Oh, what kind?”
Sirius’ eyes gleamed, thank God Lily was looking down now, for she might’ve suspected something was afoot, not that she didn’t already. “Well I really don’t know if I should say... but I guess I could tell you. See James has had this long time depression.”
At these words alone, Lily had already raised a brow.
“No, no, really he has!” Sirius struggled to cover up. “Although, it’s not so widely known. You do know how rejection really torments chaps, it’s quite cruel the way girls are so heartless, but last night he was on one his worst downs. Remus and I had to stop him from ending his life!” He was a very good liar, and for a moment Lily almost looked convinced.
She blinked, and considered a moment. Sirius was sure he had her, but...
“I don’t believe it,” said Lily, stirring the potion more violently. Surely Professor Vicar would notice soon.
Sirius shrugged, and played things cool. “Suit yourself Evans, but Prongs is fit to die if you don’t...”
Lily’s almond eyes narrowed. “If I don’t what?” she snapped.
“I never said anything. You just do what your conscience tells you,” he said, hinting. “Oh and by the way, have you been missing a snitch?”
The cauldron screeched and bubbled like Lily’s temper, both exploded at the same moment.
“Will you ever stop with that!”
Three seconds later she was covered in sizzling purple liquid that was fast wearing away at her robes. Luckily she had shielded her head from the blast, saving her red coif, and Professor Vicar had awoken just at the proper moment to salvage the rest of her clothes.
Sirius was in rare form, claiming full responsibility for the accident, but Lily still found a way to blame it on James, claiming he’d distracted her. She left the class in a huff, her robes holey and scorched, swishing behind her.
Sirius couldn’t help but feel he’d somehow ruined it for Prongs, but the ounce of conscience within him melted away at the sight of Stella Sinistra along the corridor after luncheon. He had heard from a reliable source that she and Regulus had “broken up” recently, and that she was a free woman. To Sirius, that thought pleased him more than that of his own reflection. He of course, had to stop and comfort her, with only noble deeds intended (cough, cough).
He could have been a bit more tactful in his opening sentence though.
“Did Regulus scare you away?”
The color in Stella’s cheeks drained as she turned to look at him. “What do you want?” She didn’t exactly spit it out, but he could tell she was angry just the same.
“You’re love and affection. C’mon and go out with me, you’re only torturing yourself. How many times will I have to ask you?”
The way she smiled made Sirius feel like he’d already won. She started giggling and exchanging looks between her friends. Sirius could have kissed her. He’d won, he knew it! But, the way Sirius’ luck had been going lately, something was bound to happen, and it did.
“I’m going out with Pettigrew, I really thought he would have told you.”
Now Sirius felt suicidal. He wanted to throw something, and if Peter had been there, he would have been it. The words didn’t come so easily, and Sirius had to clear his throat several times before he could speak properly.
“Will you ever get it right Sinistra?” he managed hoarsely. “Sissy boys and then porky pigs.” He couldn’t help it, even if Peter was his friend. Stella was out of Wormtail’s league, and this was perverse, and dreadfully unfair! “You have no taste, still trying to prove a point?”
Stella didn’t reply so smoothly herself. “He’s- he’s a sweet boy and you have no right... no right Sirius to call him that! I can’t believe you say he’s your friend. I see how you treat him, it makes me sick. Someone should treat him right!”
“And that’d be you wouldn’t it?” Sirius sneered.
“Yes, that’d be me! He’s a human being, you know, not some rat!”
“You might be surprised,” growled Sirius.
He had hoped some simple flirting would have gained him Sinsitra, but he was beat by Wormtail, Wormtail! What was the world coming too? What happened to his ever so steady female following? For once in his life, Sirius Black was losing his confidence. He would not leave with out the last word though.
“Please don’t be old and thirty by the time you decide to come back to me. I just might not be interested then.”
He let that sink in long enough, and strut off down the corridor, pinching Blaire Jennings on the way.
-
-
The Halloween feast must have been over, because students were walking back to their dormitories, with the look of someone who’d stuffed in and was about ready to spew out. James had been unabashedly glutton and was now paying for it, as he clutched his stomach, groaning, but managing to keep up a conversation with Sirius at the same time.
The boys had reached the portrait of the fat lady, but didn’t bother to enter quite yet (in honesty, Sirius had forgotten the password again, he never really did pay attention to those kind of things).
“Padfoot you cold hearted dog!” James exclaimed.
“I know, I know, but what if it had been you? What if your best chap took Evans from you, even before you had a chance?” Sirius held his face in one hand, exasperation in his voice.
James’ eyes glinted with momentary fear. “You wouldn’t do that would you?”
“No, of course not. It’s just an example. But you’d be... furious, I know you would!”
James looked warily down the corridor and whispered, “Yes, but Sirius this is Peter we’re talking about.”
“I know, and don’t think I’m not sorry about it, it’s plenty regrettable! Self-control is a virtue I lack, as you know. Don’t tell me you wouldn’t have done the same.”
“Tonight’s a full moon, we can’t have bitter feelings on a full moon. You might lose it and eat him or something!” James had intended to be serious, but suddenly realized the humor of it.
“Moony more likely,” grinned Sirius.
They had thought they were alone, until a voice from behind commented, “You’re having the most peculiar conversation, I must say!”
Sirius didn’t even have to look. He balled his fists and groaned with clenched teeth, “McGavott!” He was tempted to scare her off with the old “I know what you look like naked”, but thought better of it, he didn’t need to dig his grave deeper. Oh and too, she knew the password as well.
No one seemed to notice the fat lady, watching the group impatiently. She could wait no longer. “Are you all going to hang about here all night, or can I go to sleep now!”
“Oh, sorry. Pumpkin batter,” said Mackenzie.
The entrance hole swung open, and the threesome climbed through.
Sirius wrinkled his nose, “Pumpkin Batter? Last I heard, it was scourgefy.”
“Perhaps the first week of school,” sighed Mackenzie, settling herself in a fireside chair. Sirius and James exchanged looks, they really didn’t want her around.
“Oh and have you seem Remus, he disappeared after Magical Creatures?” she asked dreamily, flipping through the pages of Young Witch Weekly.
“Urgent call to his mum. She’s ill, he must’ve told you,” said James, he himself a smooth liar.
“Oh yes he-he did say something...”
James’ eyes alighted, remembering something. From his pocket, he wedged out the golden snitch Peter had found in the girls dormitory a month before. It was altered now, though. Not only was there a jagged JP, but an elegant LE (James really did have fine penmanship when he wanted to), circled in what he had intended to be a heart, but rather lacked the artist’s hand.
“Hey McGavott?”
“Hmm?”
“Would you mind giving this to Evans the next time you see her?” James asked as politely as he could manage, handing her the snitch. He had quite a way of ordering people around, and asking a favor was something that usually exceeded his boundaries.
McGavott looked at it pensively for a moment, and then handed it back. “I’m sorry, but I don’t really think I could. She’d never accept it... sorry, that’s just Lily. Don’t expect me to understand her.”
James hid his disappointment with a grin, but could not hide it in his voice. “Well thanks anyway. I’ll find another way to get it to her.”
James turned from McGavott, looked at Sirius and shrugged. “I’ll do it later, you know, tonight.”
Sirius’ eyes widened incredulously. “You’re not planning to go up the stairs?”
“Ssh! No, the window.”
-
-
Darkness fell, Remus’ felt a whirl and then a lurch in his stomach. Where was he now? Blinking wildly, he made out a tiny gold ball, bobbling ahead in the distance. Remus remembered and it all became clear...
James watched the snitch’s sorry little wings flutter through the open window to the girl’s dormitory. If Lily didn’t accept it now, he didn’t know what he would do. Suicide was always an option, he thought morosely. The idea to gallivant bravely through the girl’s window as a stag had been nixed on the first suggestion. The alternative had been to float the snitch up, incognito.
Sirius tugged at his arm, reminding him that they had to leave. The three of them (Peter included, who was already in rat form, in Sirius’ pocket) were huddled under the invisibility cloak.
“Oh Evans,” James groaned to himself. “Please don’t hate me this time.” With one last look, and another tug form Sirius, Wormtail, Padfoot and Prongs scurried into the trees, where they became stag, rat and dog.
It was indeed morphing into a spooky night. The sun had set early, replaced by a moon so full, such a haunting pure white, it could have been the pupiless eye of night, watching the Marauder’s every move. For Moony, it was his oppressor, but on night’s like these, when mischief was managed, fear was forgotten.
Leaves were blown high in a howling wind, arching across the sky, past the moon. A ways down the hill, slopping and winding, sat the whomping willow, it’s monstrous branches swaying eerily with the breeze.
For a brief moment, the wind ceased and the Marauders knew it was now or never. Speeding blurs, a rat jettisoned itself at the knot on the tree’s lower root, a stag and dog slid down under, and in and instant, they had disappeared.
Remus followed after, that dreamlike sensation of the past buzzing through his every limb. What he feared was coming. Should he leave now? Should he end this dreadful memory when he had the chance? He gave into curiosity yet again...
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In a fairly furnished room moaned a lone werewolf, gazing dimly at the moonlight through a crack in the shutters. He growled savagely at the crunch of gravel down the hall, and snapped its jaws threateningly. Red, incensed eyes lessened to black orbs at the sight of the great black dog, and the stag. Moony wagged his tail and bounced on his heels, and howled to the moon just because he could, because he knew he was the king of the world now.
The night passed too quickly for Remus’ liking. The stag and dog had led Moony on an excursion through Hogsmeade, up the cliffs to the east, and back to the grounds, where they hoped to end the night with a bang.
The lake looked placid now, the grounds had lost their sinister appeal. The clouds had even cleared the sky, leaving everything as crisp and bright as if it were midday. It had to be one or two in the morning at the least, and no matter how the Marauders chose to deny it, they were winded.
It happened when they were traipsing back to the willow. Out of the corner of his eye, Sirius thought he saw a figure, a female figure. It was crouched at the lakeside, holding it’s face in its hands, it’s shoulders shaking violently, in what Sirius could only assume were tears. He didn’t have long enough to think.
Remus gulped, and felt his heart jump to his throat. He should never have come back to this.
There came a blood-curdling scream. The werewolf at Sirius’ side had switched. No longer cowering at the side of the stag, but lone and wild ahead, but feet from the lakeside figure. There was screaming in Sirius’ head, ringing in his ears. It was going to happen, how could he let it happen!
He watched as if in slow motion, his world came to a stop. Remus! The wolf bore it’s teeth, and snapped, salivating grotesquely, growling vicious and savage. It was all a blur. One moment the wolf was lunging for the figure, and the next, a black dog was hurtling itself at the beast, knocking it unconscious to the floor. Sirius didn’t even realize what he had done, until he viewed Moony, blood splattered at his feet.
He came back to earth upon hearing a voice screamed again. He had done it, she was dead, his heart told him it was his fault and she was dead. Relief flooded him, when he saw her stir and bring herself up onto her knees.
The deepest pit of regret mounted in Sirius’ stomach, and somehow he felt it was Stella. He had not seen her face, but he knew it was her. The girl was rasping for breath, moaning at her knees. Sirius was human again. Instinct took him, Padfoot took her up in his arms, feeling her heavy heated breath against his neck. He tilted her chin up gently with his thumbs, his heart ready nearly to burst out of his chest, hoping to meet liquid black eyes. But... oddly, he met those of light brown. The girl lifted her head... It was Elise!
She was shaking. “Oh my God, Sirius!” she gasped under her breath.
Remus was in shock, and he could bear it no more. So slowly closed the diary, a horrible remorse pitted inside. He had discovered a secret that belonged to Sirius, that should have been kept to Sirius. The werewolf had been a monster, was a monster, and as Remus turned and looked out the window of that tiny loft in Grimmauld Place, his heart cried. A full moon was rising.*