Padfoot Prohibited: A list of things Sirius L. Black is no longer allowed to do or say at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.
Disclaimer: Yeah, yeah, you all know the drill. I don't own any Harry Potter characters. I do however own the idea/plot for this fic, but it's based on Skippy's list. Special note for this chapter – information about Billywigs was taken from Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them, page 4.
A/N: Hi there. I'm in a weird mood tonight, so please forgive me. My computer is dead. After my own personal computer genius, Vinny, is finished giving it mouth-to-mouth, I will update the next chapter. Not sure how long it will be. I'm at work updating this, which I'm not supposed to do, but I didn't want yous guys to get mad at me. It would be lovely if you would all leave me a review so that when I can get on a computer, I will be utterly bombarded with alert emails and I will smile and giggle and think they were worth the wait. Muchas gracias!
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Chapter 12 - Purple Hazing
"Dammit, Sirius, that was my foot!" exclaimed James from underneath his invisibility cloak.
"I know that was your foot, Prongs," replied Sirius with sarcasm. "That's why I stepped on it. I often go around stepping on my best friends' feet. I'm just that crafty."
"Hey, Sirius, can I borrow your face for a couple days? My ass is going on holiday," retorted James.
Sirius scoffed. "Merlin, that was an old comeback. Maybe you should--"
Remus cut him off. "Would you both shut the hell up? It's the middle of the night and we're in the dungeons. Do you want to die stupid?"
"Yes!" responded James and Sirius in unison.
"Dumb question. I really don't want to get kicked out of school in the last week, okay?"
"Moony, they wouldn't kick you out. You're too perfect," said Peter.
"Talk about a teacher's pet," James added.
Remus rolled his eyes. "I'm not the one who's Head Boy."
"You're right. You're just the one who's foaming at the mouth once a month, and Dumbledore takes pride in the fact you've been able to keep it hidden and get a normal education," said James.
"But I haven't kept it hidden well enough, obviously."
“Yes you have, Moony,” said Peter. “In seven years here, only the three of us know, right?”
“More people know than that,” Remus answered.
“The slimy git Snivellus knows, but that’s it,” supplied Sirius with a scowl. “And we showed him.”
“No it’s not.”
Peter, James, and Sirius stopped walking under the cloak and surveyed their best friend.
“What? Who knows besides us?” inquired Peter.
“…Raven knows.”
“Raven? Raven Ashe? That chick who hates my guts? You told her? Alright, what’s going on between you two? Is this why you won’t fix me up with her? You want her for yourself, is that it?” cried Sirius.
“Shut it, Sirius,” said James, holding the Marauder’s Map out in front of him and carefully watching for approaching dots. “How does she know?”
“I told her.”
“Why?” asked Sirius and Peter together.
“I can’t tell you.”
Sirius was getting angry. “Why the hell not?”
“It’s not my thing to tell. It’s hers. I just thought it would help her out if she knew my situation, okay?”
“You thought it would help her out if she knew? What’s that supposed to mean? …Is she a werewolf?” asked Sirius.
“No,” said Remus simply.
“Well if you don’t like her and you’re good friends with her, can’t you put in a good word for me?” pleaded Sirius.
“No,” replied Remus. “My powers can only be used for good.”
“Let’s just drop it. Moony trusts her, so that’s that,” tried James.
“No it’s not! I want to know what Raven—“
“Shh!” said Peter suddenly pointing to the map James was still carrying.
A small dot labeled Twyla Jenner was making its way straight toward the cluster of four dots labeled Remus Lupin, Peter Pettigrew, Sirius Black, and James Potter. James, Remus, and Peter quickly glanced at Sirius.
“What?” he demanded.
“You dated her last year,” said James.
“Yeah, so?” There was a moment’s silence in which the three others stared Sirius down. “Oh fine.”
Sighing, Sirius threw the cloak off of himself and headed down the corridor. They heard his coaxing, sugary-sweet voice float back to them as he spoke to Twyla.
“Hey, Twyla! Wow, nice shirt.”
Peter chuckled quietly and spoke in hushed tones. “What he means is, nice t—“
“We know what he means, Peter,” said Remus.
Sirius continued after a series of flattered giggles. “I was just coming to find you. Come with me, I want to show you something.”
Remus, Peter, and James heard footsteps coming towards them and held their breath under the cloak as Sirius (giving the space of wall he knew they were invisibly pressed against the look of death) passed them with his arm around Twyla.
The three of them snickered when they knew they were out of earshot. They continued along through the labyrinth of dungeon passages until they came to a bare, stone wall.
“Oh shit,” voiced James. “Sirius is the only one who knows the password.”
The three of them sighed and sank to the floor along the wall with the cloak still draped about them and watched the map for Sirius’s return.
After a few minutes, Peter pointed to the map. “What’d he do? Punch her out?”
“What?” asked James and Remus.
“Look.” Peter pointed to where the two dots labeled Sirius and Twyla were moving into the hospital wing.
“I wouldn’t put it past him,” joked Remus.
Sure enough, a few seconds later, Sirius’s dot was returning to the dungeons while Twyla’s remained in the hospital wing with another dot, Madam Pomfrey.
“Couple of geniuses I got for best friends,” Sirius’s voice rang out as the three of them stood again. “How long did it take you boneheads to realize you sent the only one who knows the password to head off a girl?”
“About the same amount of time it took for us to realize that you had the I.Q. of lint, Padfoot,” responded James coolly.
“That’s rich, Potter. See if I tell you the password now.”
“Fine, it was your bloody idea anyway, Black!”
Remus and Peter exchanged looks and rolled their eyes at James and Sirius’s attempt of fooling the other into thinking that they were mad by the use of their surnames.
“Keep your panties on, both of you,” said Remus.
“If we’re going to do this, then let’s do it,” added Peter. “I’m tired.”
“Why were you two in the hospital wing?” asked James.
“She got sick,” answered Sirius with a shrug.
“You made her sick?” asked Peter.
“No, I didn’t make her sick! She was PMSing or something, I guess. She said she had cramps.” Sirius wretched. “Don’t know why she told me all that.”
The four of them chucked. Then, putting a finger to his lips, Sirius gave the password, “Superior Magical Rank,” and an opening appeared in the wall, leading into the Slytherin Common Room.
The four of them suddenly became rather businesslike. They each made their own contributions in the dorms of the slumbering Slytherins.
Peter was simply going around to various four poster beds and, with much difficulty, turning random students’ pajamas lilac-purple.
“But purple’s the color of royalty, mate. They’d probably take that as a compliment,” Sirius pointed out.
“Ooh, do some pink ones,” suggested James. “Or pink and purple polka-dot.”
James was happily enchanting all the spare rolls of toilet paper to fly around the room and spell out things like, “I heart muggle borns,” “Gryffindors are sexy,” and other, more...obscene phrases.
Sirius was busy filling small bowls with warm water and placing them on the nightstands next to certain four poster beds. Lifting his brother Regulus’s hand carefully from his side and placing his fingertips gently into the bowl of water, Sirius coaxed urgingly, “There you go, my dearest Reggy-poo…nice warm water…loosens everything up.”
“What are you doing?” whispered Peter in confusion.
“It’ll make them wet their beds,” said Sirius, semi-intelligently. “Trust me; works like a charm.”
Sirius joined Peter in smiling deviously down at his brother and then continued to do the same for the Slytherins he hated most.
Remus was the last to finish his task. From inside his robes, he took out a small cage, which he then enlarged. Inside were tiny, bright blue Billywigs, twirling their helicopter wings lazily to keep afloat in the cage. Making sure the curtains were drawn around some of the four posters, Remus released one Billywig per bed in the hopes that the sleeping Slytherins would get stung and wake up roaring with laughter on the ceiling.
“Ah-ha-ha, cleaver, Moony,” commented James as the four of them made their way back down to the Slytherin common room.
“What do they do?” asked Peter.
“They’re Billywigs,” said Remus. “They’re from Australia. If you get stung by one, they cause giddiness and levitation.”
“Oh,” said Peter, not having quite processed Remus’s answer, “okay.”
Now they started to work on the common room itself. They transformed all the gothic snake statues into actual roaring Gryffindor lions; they charmed the paint on the walls to glow bright purple; they hung crimson and gold banners and streamers. The miscellaneous portraits on the walls they transformed into portraits of cute, baby bunnies and other lovable, furry animals, menacing looking clowns, Captain Kangaroo, Sirius’s mum—
James did a double-take and jumped clean out of his socks. “Sirius, what the hell?”
Sirius gazed fondly at the very unflattering portrait of his mother that he’d just transformed and shrugged, giving James a sideways smile. “What? Scares the living piss out of me.”
The four of them chuckled before Remus came to his senses. “Padfoot, you better change that back or they’ll have concrete evidence that we did all this tonight.”
“No they won’t!” exclaimed Sirius. “It’s common knowledge that I hate my mother. Now why would I deliberately hang portraits of her up around the school?”
“Take it down or we’ll permanently stick it above your bed,” threatened Remus.
With a flick of his wand, the portrait went back to normal. The last thing Sirius ever wanted to see again was his mother’s face staring vainly down at him when he woke up.
As James charmed a few more rolls of toilet paper to spell out some new and improved offensive phrases to fly through the common room, the rest of them surveyed their work critically before heading back to their own common room.
Sirius was nodding his head. “Chaos, panic, and disorder – my work here is done.”
Before heading up to bed, Sirius took out his ever-growing list and scribbled onto it:
55 – I do not have super powers and should not claim otherwise.
56 – I am neither the king nor queen of cheese and should not claim otherwise.
57 – I am not in need of a more suitable host body and should not claim otherwise.
58 – I am not a “lesbian trapped in a man’s body” and should not claim otherwise.
59 – Not allowed to trade my school books for any of the following (which have been attempted on separate occasions): cigarettes, booze, sexual favors, candy, small children, etc.
60 – Not allowed to take incriminating photographs of my professors.
61 – Not allowed to use magic to make incriminating photographs of my professors.
62 – Not allowed to give tattoos.
63 - Not allowed to vandalize the Slytherin Common Room.
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A/N: As far as I can tell right now, there will be a total of 75 items on Sirius' list and I saved the best for last, so if you're still interested, please stick with me! Luv, Liveley.
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