Quote That May Be Relevant, But Is More Funny Than Anything Else
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Do you realize the responsibility I carry? I'm the only person standing between Richard Nixon and the White House. - John F. Kennedy
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Remus gritted his teeth and managed to filter out the singing. It was hard, but he had accomplished it… but how much longer could he keep doing it?
“Peter,” he whispered, leaning over to his friend. Peter made no response, but Remus plunged on still. “Peter, you’ve got to go across the hall. Please! We’ve got to get away from this.”
Peter scowled. “Why don’t you do it? You’re getting the better deal, I think.”
Remus was taken aback at Peter’s straight forwardness, but realized it was because of the strain they had been struggling with for the past day. “No, you’re getting the better deal,” Remus clarified. “You get to escape from Sirius’s dreadful singing.”
For a moment, Peter pondered this, and then nodded as he opened up the door, took a quick peek, and scuffled out of the door.
The sudden bout of silence hit Peter like a rock. It was almost like the singing of angels, the silence…or at least the partially lower volume of Sirius’s voice. He took a relieved sigh, and walked to the other room. It was dark, the blinds shut and the bit of light coming through made the room hazy.
Carefully he stepped over a strange looking object on the floor (who knows what THAT could have been,) and surveyed the room. Good enough. It wasn’t too cold, nor too noisy, no monsters, and best of all, no one else in the room.
But then again, how was he supposed to know there was?
Still looking at the windows, grinning at the thought that he, Peter Pettigrew, had finally done something right, Peter never knew what hit him.
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Peter cracked open an eye. Why was he here…? Taking another look around, he realized he was in the same room, only sitting down. The chair was hard, and as Peter attempted to reposition himself, it struck him, only then, that he was tied there.
Thin ropes pressed against his hands uncomfortably, and he let out a whimper. Who… what…?
A dark shadow from across the room made its way closer towards Peter. His whimpering was uncontrollable now; he leaned back and shied his face from the attacker…
But the attacker did nothing. Peter trembled all over, muscles tensed and sweat trickled down his forehead as he waited. The attacker then made a strange noise, a high pitched sound that could only be described as disbelief.
“I can’t believe… I… this isn’t…” the attacker muttered, and Peter could see him wringing his hands.
“What?” Peter asked, his voice barely a squeak. The man turned towards him, hands still wringing. He had started to go bald, and he had a rather pointy nose and watery blue eyes.
He rather looks like me, Peter thought, almost sniggering at the idea. He was nearly hysterical at the moment, so the laughter wasn't surprising.
But of course, the idea wasn’t as preposterous as he thought.
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Harry quickly swept down the corridor, Ron close on his heels. They were still shaking their heads over what Lupin had been saying… or what they thought he had been saying.
“I can’t believe we fell for that,” Ron muttered, scuffing his shoe on the ground. Harry agreed, but didn’t say a word, because at that moment, Moaning Myrtle swooped in.
She was still transparent, as usual… still as annoying as usually… hmm. Harry really was getting used to her. “I know a secret,” she whispered, swaying. This was probably the happiest Harry had ever seen her.
“What’s your secret, Myrtle?” he asked obediently, though he really had no interest whatsoever in the so called ‘secret’.
“Well,” she began, still swaying gently, “it’s very important, so you can’t tell anyone.” Ron gave Harry a furtive glance, and Harry shrugged. He would play Myrtle’s game, for a while, anyway.
“Will you tell us the important secret?” he said, expecting the answer no. He knew Myrtle well enough.
“If you give me a nice kiss I might,” said Myrtle, grinning.
An impatient snort came from Ron and Harry felt a hand grab his arm. “Come on, Harry,” Ron muttered, dragging him around the corridor. “This is stupid, we need to get back… where’s Hermione?”
Harry, brow furrowed, looked for his friend, but she was nowhere in sight. The absence of Hermione blocked out Myrtle’s desperate cries- “I’ll tell you anyway, Harry, just come back! Really, it’s very important, you know, it’s about Sirius and…”
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“Truth?” Green eyes sparkled in the firelight as a slender hand leaned towards the Bernie Botts Every Flavored Beans. “You’ve picked that every single time, Hermione!” Hermione shrugged, a smile coming to her lips. “I like them,” she protested, before spitting out a mud flavored one. Lily and Ginny exchanged a knowing glance, and the Weasley tossed a Coachroach Cluster at Hermione. “You’re just scared of getting a dare, aren’t you?” Lily teased, watching Hermione blush.
“That is not true,” she said, giggling a bit. She had never known what this was like, to hang around the common room with other girls, doing petty things like Parvati and Lavender. To her surprise, she was enjoying it.
Ginny had gone off to the kitchens to get some treats for the Truth or Dare game (Bernie Botts beans if truth was picked, Chocolate Frogs if dare was chosen. If the girl backed out, Coachroach Cluster was the only choice), while Hermione set out some cushions. So far Ginny had run around the castle screaming “BURMA” at the top of her voice, ("I panicked," she explained) and Lily had managed to get 35 anagrams of the word “Potato." Hermione had done nothing but pick truth, and the girls were itching to force her into dare.
“Fine,” Ginny declared, a grin coming over her face. “But we’re going to ask you a good truth question.” Lily and Ginny exchanged a large smile before Lily ruthlessly asked the question-
“Do you like Ron?”
Hermione colored rapidly and began to mutter something indecipherable, while the other two girls giggled. Finally, Hermione managed to get out, “Forget I said truth… I say dare.”
Lily’s eyes danced as she leaned forward and Ginny managed to hide a sly grin. “All right, Hermione… we want you to…”
Lily whispered the dare in Hermione’s ear, and the girl’s eyes widened. “I can’t do that!” exclaimed Hermione, not believing this was possible.
“Yes, you can! And you will, because the other option is the truth question…” Ginny’s voice trailed off, and Hermione paled.
“Fine,” she muttered, getting up. “But I still get a Chocolate Frog. I like them better anyways.”
And Hermione picked up her candy and stalked off, shoving it defiantly in her mouth. Ginny and Lily didn’t mention that she had chosen a Coachroach Cluster by accident.
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Sirius left the Concert Hall in a state of bliss, humming “Your Song.” Never in all his life would he have thought…
He walked down the sidewalk, looking at the brick buildings and wooden hotels. This was a small town, no doubt, and everything looked inviting. The hotel had a friendly, warm feel, and for a moment, he considered going inside. He did need a shower, a good meal, and a haircut…
No. He couldn’t do that. Furtively, he glanced around him. A few people were out, but none noticed him. It was worth a shot.
He opened the hotel door nervously, where a woman with long fingers was talking on the phone. She had a homely, plump face but was obviously interested in her own affairs. “I’ll be with you in a minute,” she mouthed, and went back talking. “Really, Audrey, you don't say, I don’t believe it… I know... I know... It's a fair cop to be sure, but I know...
Sirius found a comfy chair on one side of the room and sat down, relief tingling in his feet. He leaned back and closed his eyes, letting peace sweep over him. At last, there was no more running!
At that moment, a blur went past him as a waiter made a wide curve around his chair as not to hit him. Sirius sat, stunned. What was going on? A tall man with a black moustache raced by, shouting angrily. Unfortunately, he did not take so much care in not hitting Sirius, as he went flying when his chair overturned.
The tall man turned back hurriedly. “I’m dreadfully sorry, I promise, what ever you want, you can have, just give me a moment,” he said distractedly, his hair tufted as he went back to chasing the waiter.
Sirius, a bit confused, straightened the chair and sat down again. Whatever he wanted, he could have? That was a generous offer, and he could certainly use it to his advantage. But what would he want…?
He looked over his shoulder. The dining room was filled with people in classy suits and carefully pressed dresses. If there was one way he was not going to be recognized by people, it would be if he were wearing one of those suits…
A light bulb lit over his head. He could walk in the streets normally, without having to move at night! This would be perfect! Now all he needed was for the manager to quit chasing the waiter.
“Sir?” the woman at the desk asked, face inquisitive. “Sir…”
“Oh, sorry,” Sirius muttered, blushing faintly. “I’ll just be staying for a night…” At this he trailed off, realizing he had no money, wizard or Muggle. How could he have been so stupid? But more importantly… where would he stay? He’d so been looking forward to a nice, hot bath…
The woman’s brow suddenly furrowed, hair piled on top of her head swaying slightly. “You know,” she began, “I think I’ve seen you before.”
“Really?” said Sirius, feeling very uncomfortable. “I’ve never been here before, so you must be mistaken.” In the background he could hear the manager screaming at the waiter. After he had that suit, he’d be out of here.
The woman clicked her tongue, and then suddenly, her face lit up. “You must be the new schoolteacher!”
Relief swept over Sirius that she had not recognized him from his Wanted posters. “Yes, yes… hold on, I mean, no!”
The woman appeared to not have heard him as she continued on, excited as ever. “Yes, the poor preschool has been without a teacher for about a month. The teacher, unfortunately, quit and now a kind Frenchman… why, that’s you, I suppose… whose picture was in the paper- that’s how I recognized you!- offered to take it. Thank you so much, Mr. …?”
Sirius was too shocked to say a word. “By Gumby,” he breathed, running his hands through his hair.
“B. Gumbee?” questioned the woman, eyebrows raised.
“No!” he exclaimed.
“Well, Monsieur Gumbee, my husband and I would be most obliged to hold you without fee,” the woman declared, ignoring his last comment.
“But I’m not- wait. For free?”
“Yes, is there a problem with that?” asked the woman pleasantly.
“No, no, not at all,” Sirius said, breaking into a smile. “That’s wonderful. C’est incroyable!”
The woman looked quite delighted with his random piece of French. “I don’t believe we’ve ever had a Frenchman here before!” exclaimed she, delight written over her face. She turned her back to him as she took a key from a peg and handed it to him. “Here’s your hotel key, number 23. My husband and I will be happy to see you, for sure.”
“Happy?” the manager’s voice broke out from the kitchen area. He stormed out, rage seething. “That waiter can’t do anything right, he’s served a three egg omelet with three eggs on top- three real, unshelled, uncooked eggs! The door handle is broken; room 14 has a roach problem, the kitchen is on fire…”
The woman lifted her eyebrows in mild interest. “The kitchen’s on fire, dear?”
“It bloody well is,” the manager snorted, leaning against the counter. Suddenly his eyes widened. “The kitchen’s on bloody fire!” he screamed, it truly hitting him as he raced to the kitchen. A few moments later, his head popped out. “Don’t just stand there, woman! Help me!”
The manager’s wife sighed. “I’ll be with you in a moment, Monsieur Gumbee.”
Sirius grinned. Finally, he wouldn’t be on the run. He could be where he belonged. And tomorrow, he would be teaching a room of preschoolers. What could be better?
“Polly, get the bloody water hose!” screamed the manager.
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Author’s Note: I know it’s been a long time since I updated, but now I have. I hope you enjoyed the chapter, and now that I am back on writing track, chapters will be up sooner! There’s all the news from me. Surprisingly short, isn’t it? Oh well. If anyone can take a stab at where Sirius is, then tell me in your reviews!