The Marauderbury Tales by erikthephantom
Chapter Notes: The Marauders are off on an excitingly nonmagical (not by choice) adventure by Mad-Eye Moody for training. On the way, they develop a highly magical way of entertaining themselves. Based (loosely) on Geoffrey Chaucer's The Canterbury Tales. This little tale can be read alone or, if you’re particularly daring or bored, as a companion piece to my other Marauder stories. If that’s the case, then this takes place after Veiled Revelations, just before The Importance of Being Single, and a good year before Between Now and Then.
When in January the snow showers fall
and pierce December’s Christmas spirit all,
and no sweet birds make melody,
for all their feathers are at the sea
when bears sleep and rabbits dream
on the road only will be seen
not-quite-fair travelers braving Nature’s rage
to embark on a sort of pilgrimage
for to prepare for the chance of a small rhyme
to fight the most evil wizard of all time;
He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named
of who it has been proclaim’d
is unbeatable and undying.
And yet there are those Maraud’rs who are trying
to defeat this evil being’s pow’r
by traversing every minute and hour
on the orders of one Dumbledore
in order to train for the war.
There
It happened that, in that season, on a certain day as James Potter lay unhappily freezing in an inn in the North of Scotland, that he was joined in his training by four companions all headed in the same direction.
James, being so engulfed in his training (as were the rest of his four companions) had seen very little of these four dear friends, gathered now in fellowship, and remarked privately to himself how they had changed.
And with one pureblooded Black would he begin: This man had changed very little in their absence. His hair remained spectacularly black and fell perfectly about his shining grey eyes. His manner was the same, as was his swagger. He seemed to be fresh from a fight, though James knew better. He walked with a smile that proclaimed his ability to do anything that he wanted and the carelessness to actually go through with it. Some would view that as a quality to be admired, though James knew better and saw through the bravado a sensitive, deeply passionate man…at least, that’s what James would tell him to avoid a beating.
And speaking of bravado, as James turned to his next companion, this one had none. She stood assuredly by, listening to their quibbles with the air, dignity, and arrogance of royalty, and with all the beauty that one would acquaint with that. Her red hair had grown since James had last seen her, falling easily over her shoulders and perfectly setting off her emerald eyes. She offered James a knowing wink when she had entered, sending the latter’s stomach into hurtles. She then plopped unceremoniously onto the bed, stretched out her legs, threw her hands behind her head, and let out an enormous yawn. Gorgeous¸ our hero sighed.
His third companion, currently engaged in good-humored banter with the aforementioned Black, was looking better than he ever had. His yellow eyes glowed with enjoyment and were less fatigued than James had remembered them being and his scars were fading. His skin, always pale, looked less sickly than usual, and he seemed physically stronger than he had ever been before. He walked and spoke with a complimenting vigor owing, James assumed, to his sense of belonging within their Order. He had also just landed an impenetrable, biting remark to Black and was basking in the glory of an argument won.
His last companion was quite shorter than the others, and considerably stouter. The difficult months of training had done little to shape him up and, though James had long ago kicked the habit excepting times of distress, this companion continued to run his hand through his thin blonde hair. His small watery eyes bounded from one bickering companion to another, occasionally adding a small, unhelpful laugh to the mix.
“I would’ve enjoyed the trip here if I hadn’t been forced to stare at Sirius’s behind the entire time,” Remus commented as he sat next to James on the bed, carefully avoiding Lily.
“Ha!” Sirius cried. “We went by portkey, Mr. Lupin. There was no ass-viewage.”
“Not true,” Lily offered unexpectedly. “The way we were placed by that broom was a constant opportunity for ‘ass-viewage.’”
“What can I say?” Sirius shrugged. “At least it was mine and not Peter’s, right?”
“Hahaha!” Peter guffawed suddenly. The others exchanged an awkward glance for a moment before bursting into their own laughter.
“Anyway,” James interjected, “does anyone actually know where Dumbledore’s sending us and why?”
Remus cleared his throat. “‘Training session number 15: To defeat the evil wizard Voldemort you must be able to adopt a plethora of disguises and sink into obscurity within a moment’s notice. To do this you must embark on a foot journey to an unspecified location and survive the obstacles that will be thrown at you. You must take a distinctly primitive approach.’ Primitive being muggle, of course.”
“Thank you Mad-Eye Moony,” Sirius said sarcastically. Remus made a face.
“Sounds simple enough,” James remarked.
“Don’t be so sure,” Lily retorted cautiously. “You know Moody. He didn’t say ‘survive’ for nothing.”
“You memorized his speech too?” Sirius laughed. “I kind of zoned out.”
And with that, the five companions settled down to a slightly unsettled sleep, in which each were left to his (or her) thoughts:
James’ thoughts were occupied by the beautiful occupant of the bed which he had given up, and many a time he had to beat his head against the wooden floor to alter them slightly (the thoughts, not the floor boards).
The beautiful occupant of the bed’s thoughts were set (very deliberately) on the mission ahead, though for some reason they always strayed back to her gentleman on the floor who, for some reason, kept hitting his head on the floor.
Sirius had positioned himself perfectly so that his feet were perpendicular to another companion’s sleeping body, and his thoughts were honed on how many kicks would awaken him.
Peter’s thoughts were occupied by the threat of no real meal for the next week and the threat of danger meant by Moody’s usage of the word ‘survive.’
And Remus? The constantly exhausted little werewolf, despite random acts of violence on his body from Sirius’s corner, slept like a log.
The next morning, as the sun began its slow ascent from beneath the mountains, the five rose to greet the glorious day (Sirius, who had been up all night kicking the seemingly lifeless body of Remus was far less enthusiastic in his greeting of the sun. Remus, on the other hand, greeted the day with a smile and a painful throb in his ribs, the cause of which was curiously unknown to him).
And so, with a small breakfast of bread and milk from the equally tired innkeeper, the five companions set off on their adventure.
“It’s bloody c-cold out here…” Sirius growled after five minutes of trudging along the frozen dirt road. The sun, which had risen so gloriously only moments before, had disappeared behind a cold grey sky. The bare trees waved their branches unhappily in the small, yet biting, breeze.
The others nodded at his pronouncement, their toes frozen and their teeth chattering. Within an hour of walking and idle chatter, Lily was pressed against James, who was using what little body warmth he possessed to warm her, and Remus was nearly a block of ice pushing his legs forward.
“C-can’t we stop and make a fire or something?” Sirius insisted. “That’s primitive enough for Moody, isn’t it?”
They all nodded and found the nearest dead tree and huddled underneath it. Sirius and James collected a few branches and Peter stones as Lily and Remus, the most experienced in “primitive” fire building, made a small clearing for the twigs.
In five minutes’ time, after many frustrated outbursts from James and Sirius, and a few growls from Lily, a small fire was “roaring” beneath their hands. More wood was gathered and in five more minutes’ time a real fire was actually roaring and the five were able to be slightly warm and comfortable.
“How long should we stay here?” Peter asked, refraining from adding a question about lunchtime.
“We can’t freeze to death out here,” James said fairly. “I doubt the cold’s the obstacle Moody was harping on, so I think it’s a given that we survive that. We’ll rest here for a half an hour and then move on. How’s that?”
The other four nodded miserably, and a half an hour later the five black clad travelers left their little dell to again brave the forces of nature.
All of that day they traveled, stopping hourly to warm themselves by a quickly constructed fire.
“D-d’you think h-heating charms a-are out of the q-question?” Peter stuttered, though he knew the answer before he’d even asked the question.
“Ask Remus, h-he’s memorized the damned soliloquy,” Sirius mumbled. Remus, however, didn’t respond: his eyes were fixed on the road ahead and he seemed to be searching desperately for a random spot of heat.
When the sun began to set and there was no sign either of trouble, obstacles, or random spots of heat, the five resigned themselves to the fact that they would be forced to spend the night outside.
They had a large fire and much extra firewood going when the sun was totally gone, but none were able to sleep. They were pressed closely together in a circle around the fire. Each was expecting some terrible thing to occur for, as the shadows darkened and the new moon could barely be seen, every sound was like the approach of quiet footfalls and every breath of wind brought with it dangerously calculating whispers.
It was after the twentieth start by Remus that Sirius finally threw his hands in the air and cried, “That’s enough! We’ve got to do something about this! It’s ridiculous!”
“About what?” James muttered angrily, his eyes trained on an oddly moving shadow (which, though he wasn’t aware, was a harmless little bush, trying to survive in the wind).
“This paranoia!”
“What paranoia?” James and Lily snapped sharply and loudly.
Sirius raised his eyebrow. “Let’s think. What did we used to do at school when we were scared?”
“Y-you were s-scared of s-something, S-Sirius?” Remus attempted a laugh.
Sirius just rolled his eyes as they all thought. “That one night,” Peter began, “we told those ghost stories, remember?”
Everyone froze even more than they already were, and now not only was every sound a footfall and every wind a whisper of danger, but every shadow and every star hinted of supernatural occurrences.
“Canterbury Tales,” Lily said suddenly, causing the clinically paranoid Marauders to jump five feet into the air. “They told stories to each other to pass the time. It’s kind of like Peter’s ghost story idea [they all shivered, and it wasn’t with the January wind] but…more friendly…?”
They sat quietly, a million ideas for stories racing through their minds:
Peter wondered how he could work food into the main subject, as his poor subject was growling cruelly. Remus was contemplating the overhead constellations, trying to guess by the stars’ positions where they were headed. James was too focused on Lily to be thinking of a story, wondering how to get the others to sleep before making his move and Sirius...
“Half a bloody minute,” he said suddenly, his eyes gleaming. “Moody said no magic for our mission, right?” They shrugged, not really listening. “So we don't use magic for our mission. This isn't our mission, is it? Let’s up the ante then, shall we?”
His plan was intricate, yes, but it gained their interest. “Not only would we tell stories,” he explained carefully. “But we’ll actually be in them, which makes it much more fun. Person who tells the story has to think it up first, obviously, but then they do the Charm and we all get our little costumes and we have our little places and just do as the narrator says.”
“Who’s the narrator if we’re all in it?” Lily asked, not entirely sure of the “charm” Sirius was talking about.
“That’s the trick!” Sirius smiled. “You see, the spell makes it such that you can narrate and be in it at the same time.”
“I don’t get it…” Peter mused, as Remus muttered, “So it’s a ‘spell’ now, is it?”
“Look, you know how you can think and talk at the same time?” Sirius said patiently, his eyes still glowing and readjusting himself, hardly able to contain his excitement.
“Yes…” they all said slowly.
“It’s the same concept. I won’t lie, it’s a tough spell, but once you get the hang of thinking the story and everyone else’s role while doing yours it’s actually quite simple.”
“And you’ve done this how many times?”
Sirius raised his eyebrow as James sat back smugly. He was the only of the group to have heard of this particular Spell/Charm, as Sirius put it, and he was not happy with it. Turning to the other three, he explained. “My dad told me of spells Dark Wizards use. It’s similar to the Imperius but not exactly that. You basically create an alternate world, sticking that person inside of it and do what you will. That way they won’t be lying when they say they saw something happen. You follow me?”
Peter blinked at him. “In case of Veritaserum,” Lily began, “but the Imperius curse works through that, I thought.”
“It does,” James nodded, “but someone who knows that person just might pick up on a difference in personality, which is another problem altogether. It’s easier this way because even the person’s mum would swear her son wasn’t lying.”
“Ah,” the other three nodded, Sirius looking grumpily on.
“We wouldn’t be controlling anyone, you know. Not permanently. Just for a short amount of time to enjoy a good story!”
They stared at him angrily. “So you want to use Dark Magic on us?” Remus stated simply. “Very nice, Sirius, as we’re out here trying to stop evil and whatnot.”
“It’s not evil!” Sirius cried, his small patience quota full. “Look, it’s taking the same concept and making it good! We’re…well we’re basically fighting the baddies just by doing it!” Sirius finished triumphantly, sitting back with a huge smile on his face.
“Have you ever read The Lord of the Rings?” Remus asked seriously, but James cut in. “It doesn’t feel right, mate. Doing something that’s in essence bad and pretending it’s good.”
“It’s just fun, Prongs! Just fun. It sure beats sitting and listening to Peter stutter over some nonsense for three hours.”
This they conceded, though Peter was much chagrined by their assent. “Fine…” James sighed, still obviously against the idea. “But as soon as it gets out of hand…”
“This is stupid,” Lily said bluntly, frowning. “I love that you tried to pass it off as something simple,” she added sarcastically. “A charm,” she mimicked. “A spell. Oh brilliant, Sirius. I have total confidence in your integrity.”
“More than I have in my own, then,” he laughed devilishly. “Right. The incantation is simple enough, but you need to concentrate on your story and know what happens, so whoever’s going to start needs to think it up now.”
“My mouth’s frozen shut,” Remus said through clenched teeth.
“How convenient,” Sirius muttered.
They were quiet for some time, each actually forming stories now. James’s eyes at once lit up, realizing the full potential of this sometimes-Dark magic. He would be in control of everyone…
“I’ll start,” James sighed. “I seem to be in full possession of my jaw movements, and if something goes wrong I want to be the one to be the one in charge of it. What’s the incantation?”
Sirius coughed a bit. “Fraudatio Imperio.”
“What?!” they cried and he started yelling just as soon as they did: “Well I told it would be anyway, so why the surprise?”
“You didn’t tell us; James did!” Lily shouted angrily.
“Honestly, Sirius, this is ridiculous!” Remus snapped, his mouth oddly working again.
“I don’t see why we’re surprised,” James interjected suddenly, his story ripe in his head. “We knew what it was so let’s just do it. It just sounds bad is all.”
“That’s two more for Voldemort tonight,” Lily muttered mutinously to Remus as James cleared his throat.
“Okay…” he muttered.
“Fraudatio,” Sirius cued.
“Right…” James swallowed. He’d never done Dark Magic before. It wasn’t really Dark Magic, though, was it? It wasn’t being used for something evil and therefore was quite passably OK…wasn’t it? The idea of his story, however, was too much to resist, the temptation so great that he raised his wand to his head and said, guiltily, “Fraudatio Imperio.”