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Reg: All right, but apart from the sanitation, medicine, education, wine, public order, irrigation, roads, the fresh water system and public health, what have the Romans ever done for us?

Attendee: Brought peace?

Reg: Oh, peace - shut up! You know, there is not one of us who would not gladly suffer death to rid this country of the Romans once and for all.

Dissenter: Uh, well, one.

Reg: Oh, yeah, yeah, there's one. But otherwise, we're solid.

-From Life of Brian

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-All the ideas in this chapter were suggested by my good friend, Katherine. So I think everyone should give her a major round of applause, because otherwise, you wouldn’t be reading this!-

Peter began to whimper. Everything had begun to press down on him all too much. They’d defied time, they’d thrown themselves into a situation impossible to get of, and now he was kidnapped.

His captor still appeared to be in a mental battle with himself, turning this way and that, ached with decisions. Finally, his captor made way to his chair, his whole face unreadable. The face was not neutral of emotion, but simply that there was too much to observe.

“I… I’m going to try to make you… comfortable,” the kidnapper said uneasily, fumbling with the rope that bound Peter’s wrists.

The boy couldn’t say a word, even if he wanted to. The fear had paralyzed him, and even when the rope had slid away, his arms stayed frozen. The captor had gone back into the darkness and Peter was left to his thoughts. He moved his fingers slowly, fear creeping up every time he moved anything. The kidnapper might see it and Avada Kedvra him.

He wished he were brave like Sirius. He would have jumped out of the chair in a split second and manage to look good at the same time. But Peter was stuck, frozen out of fear.

He tentatively moved his arms, little by little, bringing them slowly back to his lap. Halfway through, with a deep breath, he snatched them close to his chest, hardly daring to look. The captor wasn’t paying attention at all.

At that moment, a strange and irrational feeling swept over Peter. At first, he thought it bravery, but it was actually recklessness. Just do it… just GO FOR IT!

His mind screamed this at him, and he almost left his chair. But no- he mustn’t. Think of the danger…
Do it!

Peter stood up and ran as fast as he could. He was running away, further away than could be imagined, back to the past, back to where he and his friends (were they his friends?) could just enjoy themselves by the lake, where he and Sandra King could-

That awful feeling of falling hit Peter like a bag of bricks. It probably would have had the same effect if a bag of bricks hit him, because he went sprawling across the ground. What happened, what happened, went swirling around his mind until he realized his legs were still bound to the chair, and it was tottering precociously.

He never knew how much chairs hurt.

His kidnapper knew, he knew, Peter was dead, he knew he was, just get it over with, please, please, he didn’t-

But instead the captor was untying his feet and practically pleading, “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry…”

Peter didn’t understand what was going on.

“Here, have something to… to eat…” The captor turned his back to Peter and rummaged through a knapsack, taking out a few things and throwing a few things back.

Peter was more shaken that he was before. He could hardly move his body, even if he tried. Speaking was equivalent to being able to jump off Big Ben and fly. He closed his eyes, sweat beading on his forehead. Maybe if he squeezed his eyes tight enough, he would be back with Sirius and Remus, even if Sirius was still singing.

When he opened his eyes again, a napkin was folded in his lap, obscuring a few items from sight. He shouldn’t open it; it might have automatic sensors that would blast lasers at him if he opened the cloth. But he was so hungry…

Inside were mainly chocolate frogs and pumpkin pasties with a lump of slimy pink meat smeared in the middle.

“Sorry,” his captor squeaked, wringing his hands. “That’s all I have… I… here… I’ll untie your feet too.”

Peter looked down at the strange meal, then back at his captor, who was busy untying the rope at his feet. That pink meat looked like it was squirming.

He took a pinch of the meat and managed to force it down his throat. Cold and rather… pink… he liked it, surprisingly.

The chocolate frogs weren’t bad at all, and neither were the pumpkin pasties.

Peter began to feel more and more energetic as the sugar went through his body. This was actually kind of fun, being strapped to a chair!

Peter once said that Sirius often went hyper after sucking on too many sugar quills. Compared to Peter, Sirius was a sobbing funeral attendee who hadn’t slept for days.

Think about it.

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Remus didn’t care anymore. Actually, he had stopped caring a few hours ago… or had it been minutes? Elton John wasn’t that bad. If there were going to be a new superhero, it would be Elton-

No. Remus concentrated on where Peter was. He’d been gone for half an hour now, and Remus was getting worried. He might have gotten abducted by McGonagall, if she was still alive of course, or maybe he got lost on his quest…

“Where’s Peter?” The abrupt question shook Remus out of his philosophical mode as he turned his head around. Sirius was standing in the middle of the bathroom, the overflowed toilet water lapping around his ankles.

“You stopped singing.”

“Yes. Do you know how much you guys ask me to do?” Sirius sighed, sitting himself down besides Remus.

Remus stared. “What do you mean?”

Sirius sighed again. “Well, I mean that it gets really tiring singing Elton John all the time. But you guys keep insisting, and I can’t keep it up anymore. It’s extremely tiring on a star’s voice.”

This logic seemed to defy Remus’s mind at the moment, but all he was focused on was Peter’s whereabouts. “Peter’s missing,” he said tiredly.

“Missing? Thou art jesting!” Sirius put on a mock Shakespearean artist face, hand to forehead in distress.

“He is, Sirius. We’ve got to find him. How can we loose three people in the future? It shouldn’t be that hard to stay together,” moaned Remus, covering his face in his hands.

“The course of true love never doth run smooth,” Sirius said, leaning over to pat Remus on the head. His tired eyes met Sirius’s.

“What does that have to do with anything?”

“Shakespeare’s works can parallel anything to anything,” replied Sirius confidently, hands on hips. “That was from A Midsummer Night’s Dream, Act I, Lysander to Hermia.”

“The ‘Shakespeare’s works can parallel anything’ or the ‘course of true love never doth run smooth?’”

Sirius splashed Remus with some of the water on the floor, resulting in a cry of outrage from the quieter one. “That was disgusting!”

“My hands are of your color, but I shame to wear a heart so white,” quipped Sirius.

Before Remus could ask what the quote was, Sirius had already obligingly filled in the blanks. “Macbeth, Act II, Scene III, Lady Macbeth, after Macbeth murders King Duncan.”

“That’s very nice, Sirius. But we’re missing three.” Remus stopped in mid-sentence, simply to stress the number. “THREE people. How could we be so irresponsible?”

Remus lifted his woe-ridden head to get Sirius’s attention. “Three people!” Remus stopped, and then sighed at what he didn’t see.

“Four people,” he moaned miserably, and raced out the door to find Sirius.

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Hermione sneaked down the corridor, not believing that Ginny and Lily had actually gotten her to do this. This was ridiculous! She was out of her mind, she must be. Doing this would give immediate detention, maybe even expulsion.

The dungeon steps never felt so cold. Why, why, why was she doing this? She didn’t have to. Hermione could say that she had done it- a “let’s not and say we did” sort of thing.

The bottom step of the dungeon. She took a deep breath. This was stupid, stupid, stupid. But she couldn’t back down. A possessive hold had come over her, a sort of recklessness. She was going to do this, no matter how much her sensibility told her not to.

She began to rehearse what she would say. “Professor Snape…”

“Yes?”

The cold voice cut her off, and immediately her skin turned clammy.

“Err… I just wanted to say… that Professor McGonagall is a frightful old git and walks like she has a-” This was blurted out before Hermione could think about whether she really wanted to say it. There. Ginny and Lily would be perfectly happy.

And now for the punishment.

She waited for Snape’s response, but instead, nothing happened. She opened one eye hesitantly, anxiously awaiting her sentence.

“Shh!” muttered Snape, leaning in towards her ear. “I agree. Now, how would I go about plotting revenge on her?”

Hermione’s mouth dropped open. She would have rather got the chastising.

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“Remus,” pronounced Sirius flourishingly. “These days weigh heavy upon my soul. To be, or not to be, that is the question: Whether ‘tis nobler in the mind to suffer the slings and arrows of an outrageous fortune or to take arms against a troubled-”

“Oh, shut up,” Remus muttered, clasping Sirius’s arm. He’d found him down by the Great Hall, quoting Shakespeare to himself. They needed to get down to the brass-tacks: Find Lily and James and get back. Now.

“Look! Little children to play with,” grinned Sirius evilly as a few fifth years passed by. Before Remus could tighten his grip, Sirius had run off, galloping towards the students. Everything was happening too quickly, just stay put..!

Remus cringed as Sirius began his rampage. “But soft! what light through yonder window breaks? It is the east and Juliet is the sun! Arise, fair sun, and kill the envious moon…” he serenaded, going on one knee to the Hufflepuff girl.

This was too much. Way too much. Remus was ready to step in and apologize; his friend had escaped from a mental institution and that he needed to take him back, thanks-

“Oh no, here comes Looney Lovegood,” the Hufflepuff girl muttered, turning her back in disgust and walking the other way. The other boy shrugged his shoulders as he walked away.

“Parting is such sweet sorrow-” began Sirius, but when Luna Lovegood came into his sight, he could say not another word.

How could he describe her? Her hair was as golden as the sun; her eyes the blue of a crystal pool. If a soul should swim through the pool, they should be lost helplessly at the depth and brilliance of the color.

He walked forward, drawn to her.

“Sirius,” warned Remus, grabbing his robe sleeve. There was a hundred things wrong with this, but at the moment, Remus could only think of one. “Don’t you love Rosa?” he started helplessly.

“No. I have forgot that name, and that name’s woe,” whispered Sirius, creeping hesitantly towards Luna. “O, she doth teach the torches to burn bright!”

The girl- Looney, Remus thought the students had said- quirked an eyebrow. “Who are you?” she said.

“She speaks. O, speak again, bright angel for thou art as glorious to this night, being o’er my head, as is a winged messenger of Heaven,” breathed Sirius, reciting through Romeo and Juliet subconsciously. How he had read this play over and over again at his cousin’s house, for good pick-up lines… but instead finding them used for true love.

“This is true love,” he whispered, knowing it was true.

“You need to get outside, Sirius. You’ve been cooped up too long. Is Moaning Myrtle getting to your head? Let’s GO.”

Looney held her hand out to Sirius. “You are a poet. A true poet,” she murmured, looking very solemn.

“If I profane,” Sirius began, looking hesitantly at his hand, trembling with anxiety to reach hers, “with my unworthiest hand this holy shrine, the gentle sin is this-”

Remus felt like screaming through his teeth. “Stop it, Sirius,” he muttered angrily. “You’ve had your fun, now let’s leave!”

“No.”

Looney was placing her hands upon a wall, pushing a few bricks then moving a step to the right.

“What are you doing?” Sirius asked, eyes never leaving Luna’s.

She glanced up at him, face as serious as ever. “I am trying to find a passageway to Durmstrang. Another boy came by asking me that- dark hair, glasses… Usually, no one talks to me.”

Sirius’s face crumpled into concern. “That’s terrible!” he cried.

For a few moments, Remus disregarded the description of the boy passing by Luna. Then, he saw the boy clearly. “James…”

He turned on Luna. “Where did the boy go? Which way?” he asked frantically, seeing the light at the end of the tunnel. They could go home, they would find James; they would find Peter...

“Can I help you in any way?” Sirius asked sincerely. “For I would do anything for you, anything for this angel of light that spreads her holiness upon the poor vagabond that stumbles upon this shrine-”

“Yes. I would need a few hairs of Professor Flitwick to arrange into a pyramid on the north-west brick to open this passage- to test this theory. If it doesn’t work, I’ll be most awfully sorry.” Her eyes looked large and sad at the last statement, and Sirius felt a sudden surge of chivalry. He could prove himself worthy.

“Of course,” he replied. “Farewell, farewell, one kiss and I’ll descend.” Sirius looked hopeful at his last statement, and Looney obligingly leaned down and gave him soft peck on the forehead.

“Thank you very much,” she said, giving a small smile. “I would have done it myself, but I’m guarding the other wall so that the Hippogriffs won’t escape. What is your name?”

Remus knew what Sirius was going to say.

“Romeo,” he whispered, as if the name Sirius Black may offend her, before running off in search of the item for his love.

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Tie adjusted, shoe tied, hair combed… yes, Sirius was ready for this. He tried giving the tie one more twist, and looked down at the suit that was all too long for him. The manager gave him the suit, and then began to mutter about how guests were awful pushy these days. Sirius decided to ignore him. The tie was awfully short too…

He left the hotel jauntily, almost skipping down the road. This was the life. He could just teach this one day to make Mrs. Hotel Desk Lady believe him. Then he’d run off towards home. To Harry.

A small white painted building stood ahead of him, quite unimposing. This must be it, especially with the sign that said, “PRESCHOOL” in large letters.

He opened the door quietly, and found a few parents in the room holding their little Muggle children. One of the girls there looked vaguely familiar, so he gave her a wink. She was a skinny thing, legs like sticks that were constantly swinging. And she was licking an ice cream cone.

Her eyes widened at the sight of him. “It’s the evil murderer Sirius Black!” she shouted, giggling at the memory.

Damn. That same girl on the bench the day the Muggles spotted him. And still licking an ice cream cone. Of course, it wasn’t the same one… or was it?

He stood, frozen. He could feel the parents’ stares on him. Should he run? He’d been doing it long enough, and now was the perfect time to start up again-

The mother of the ice cream girl blushed madly and stood up, tucking her hair behind her ear. “I’m awfully sorry, she thinks she sees Sirius Black everywhere since they spotted him in the park a few weeks ago.” The mother blushed an even deeper red. “And to think of accusing a perfectly respectable man as you, Monsieur Gumbee…” She shook her head. “I hope she didn’t hurt you in any way…”

Sirius forced himself to laugh uproariously. “Of course not,” he said, patting the ice cream girl on the head. “I don’t mind at all! I see Stalin all the time, but I stopped accusing a long while back."

There were a few laughs at this and he loosened up. Ice cream girl wouldn’t land him in Azkaban!

Momentary relief swept over him before another wave of anxiety crept behind him. Why were all the parents here anyway? Wasn’t he just supposed to take the kids and let them color a picture or something?

“So… let’s begin with class!” he said, giving a wide smile. None of the Muggles shared in this except for ice cream girl.

“Are you going to give a talk about what the year’s going to be like?” offered a mother hesitantly.

“Uh…” Sirius’s mind blanked. What was this? “No.”

The adults exchanged glances before standing up and leaving. Good, good, good. Now he could be left alone with the brats and get this over with. It wasn’t until everyone had left that he realized the children had gone along with the parents.

Good.

No, now looking around, he saw two children had stayed. One was ice cream girl, and the other was a scared looking boy. This would be okay. This would be fine. Think about Harry. Think about Harry and how he will be so happy to see you.

“Okay,” Sirius began, holding up a few crayons and a roll of toilet paper. “Who wants to color?”

Author’s Note: If I could apologize over and over and over until a dozen pages were full and MuggleNet would let me go on that long for this chapter taking so long, I would. But I have a little bit of time and am quite proud of myself that I actually finished this. Late last night, I realized I should get this up because people were waiting and I had some ideas that were going to waste in my head!

The next chapter will be up in a week or two, I’m hoping, so be on the lookout. (No more month waits, I’m hoping again. Because you never know, my computer could burn up or I might conk my head and get amnesia so I never remember writing this story.)

Thank you for reading this story and have a lovely day (or night, depending when you’re reading this.)