Chapter Eleven: Boys Will be Boys?

Sirius had returned to the castle bristling with impotent rage at the hag and the ruination of his Saturday, the mystery of how Hermione Granger could be in possession of books he'd seen in his parent's library with his own disbelieving eyes, and irritation that Sami Greengrass had the audacity to ask him for a kiss. Sure, Sami had been instrumental in weeks of diabolical planning, and yeah Sami had a point that Sirius was certainly a boy that tongued his girlfriends in public and the fact that they weren't tonguing all over the place was suspicious at best, but he'd never agreed to have Slytherin spittle in his mouth. He was more than eager to whinge about all of this to James, Remus, and Pete at some length, until he'd reentered the Gryffindor common room and twelve people had shouted at him at once that James and Lily had been attacked by a group of Slytherins and Hermione Granger had rescued them.

"Pardon me, I think you said that in my deaf ear," Sirius said to Pete, "or else you slipped me some of the finest goblin weed known to man. Can you repeat that?"

"I said," Pete said, puffing up with pride that Sirius had ignored the other eleven people that had tried to shout the story to him in various degrees of detail, including a white vinyl boot and dog collar wearing Smythwick, "Pron—James and Evans were attacked by a group of Slytherins and Hermione Granger rescued them."

Sirius tilted his head. If Remus or James were there, they would've commented on his uncanny appearance to a dog trying to shake a flea lose from his ear. Had Sami drugged him in her attempt to get his tongue in her mouth? Had the hag Confunded him again? Had Kreacher finally snapped and poisoned him out of revenge?

"You left out the part where Evans got pictures of her taken in her knickers!" Cassiopeia Fawcett said eagerly.

"That's a rumor," Amelia snapped, "and you shouldn't-"

"What do you mean, attacked?" Sirius said blankly.

"It was a prank," Victoria Arnold scoffed, "everyone knows it was a prank, just like you boys are always-"

"It was not a prank," Amelia retorted, "you think it's funny to tie up a girl and-"

"It might have been a prank," Pete cut off the bickering seventh year Gryffindor girls, "no one knows for sure, but everyone's up in Dumbledore's office right now!"

"Where's Remus?" Sirius asked, "What do you mean, everyone?"

If anyone could give him a more coherent explanation of what Pete meant by Granger had saved James and Evans from a maybe prank maybe attack by some Slytherins it was good old Remus. He'd probably even have color coded notes and a graph.

"Up in Dumbledore's office," Pete said in a rush, "like everyone else is. I told you."

Sirius looked around, bewildered, feeling angry heat build in his body. He'd already suffered through an excruciating day and his reward was hearing about how Granger was allegedly a hero? Granger, with her bad attitude, bloody robe that had Potter written on it, sketchy copies of Black family books, her Mudblood scar, and her snogging of Reg?

"He probably can't even kiss," Sirius mumbled under his breath.

"Er, what?" Pete asked.

"Who can't kiss?" Smythwick asked eagerly. He was, as always, hovering far too close to Sirius for comfort, like a meteor revolving around a sun that was going to get burned at any second. "Dumbledore?"

"I'll have you know he's talented with his tongue," Sirius said automatically, his brain churning as everyone around laughed at his wit as usual.

Abruptly, he turned around and made his way to the portrait hole.

"You can't go out there," Amelia said annoyingly.

"Yeah?" Sirius said, "Try me."

"Dumbledore said we should all stay in our rooms," Amelia persisted, and Sirius turned with a scowl. She was far more entertaining when she was mooning over him in red faced stutters.

"Well he didn't tell me that," Sirius said rudely, and he opened the portrait hole and strode out, yelling "not now, Smythwick!" over his shoulder as the boy in question tried to follow.

There was a scurrying of footsteps behind him. That was good. Pete was a great guy, but how he'd gotten in Gryffindor sometimes baffled Sirius. But when you really, really needed Pete, he was there, as reliable as the Chudley Cannons losing the Quidditch league cup.

"So tell me the whole story," Sirius said, not looking back.

"I did," Pete said, "that's all I know."

"Really?" Sirius asked witheringly, as behind them someone opened the portrait hole and shouted out to them to stop breaking curfew. Gryffindor was within ten points of being tops for the house cup, and it had set everyone on edge for mischief and rule breaking recently.

"Yeah, that's all anyone knows," Pete said, oblivious to Sirius' temperamental mood as he often was.

"And Remus is in Dumbledore's office why?" Sirius barked at Pete, striding around a corner, hearing Pete begin to pant with effort to keep up with Sirius's long legged walk.

"Dunno," Pete panted, "maybe he found them?"

"Are Mims, Colvert, Dolotte, and O'Flannery gone too?" Sirius asked, clenching his fists. Couldn't he be gone for a few hours without James bollocking things up without him?
"Yeah," Pete gasped for air, "why?"

"Well, they are the other Gryffindor prefects, see," Sirius said sarcastically, "so I suppose that's why Remus is gone."

"Oh yeah," Pete said, "you're so smart, Sirius!"

That mollified his rage a little.

"I know," Sirius conceded, "listen, is Evans okay? What's this about knickers?"

"Dunno, hadn't heard," Pete said unhelpfully, "say, where are we going?"

Sirius stopped dead in the corridor, Pete plowed into his back, and he whirled around, irritated.

"Where are we going? Where do you think, thick-head?" Sirius snarled.

All he'd wanted to do this year was get in some messes, run around as Padfoot, snog a few dozen cute girls, maybe get a few more to take their clothes off for fun, get drunk a few times, lark about with his mates getting up to no good under the cloak, play some pranks on the Slytherins, and graduate, starting his life away from the Black family name.

It would be much easier to pretend that he hadn't ever been a part of that family once Reg wasn't sneering in his peripherals at meals anymore. And now look at him. Play acting the dutiful heir once more, taking the hag's abuse, listening to his father's threats again, snogging no cute girls because he was pretending to be engaged, obsessing over one girl with ludicrously awful hair because she might be a dark witch.

Pete's ears were glowing pink.

"I dunno," Pete said again after a moment in which Sirius's hands clenched and unclenched. Remus had told him once to get his anger under control by talking to someone wise, like McGonagall about his past. But what could McGonagall do to help Sirius? It's not like she'd grown up being abused by pure-bloods.

"But wherever we're going, I thought this could help?" Pete drew out from his robes the invisibility cloak.

"You have your moments, Wormy," Sirius said graciously, and Peter turned pinker with pleasure.

James sat jiggling his leg violently up and down as the prefects wandered out of Dumbledore's office, Rosalie McGovern tripping over nothing in the doorway and falling to the side, righting herself on the doorway and glaring back inexplicably at Granger, who hadn't done anything at this embarrassing display of her nemesis but continued to stare at Dumbledore's moon patterned carpet with a blank expression. She had been staring at the carpet for the past hour.

James eyes darted to the doorway in suspicion as a muffled laugh was heard.

"Don't you laugh at me, Granger!" McGovern said shrilly.

James's leg jiggled faster and he saw that out of the corner of his eye Evans was still hugging herself tightly. His teeth ground together.

He looked over at Granger, who glanced up. She caught James's eye and looked hastily away, her expression indicating she'd forgotten she wasn't alone.

"I didn't do anything," Granger said.

Her voice sounded different to James. He couldn't place how just yet, but later on he'd realize she didn't sound angry or contemptuous, and that made her voice softer and more pleasing to the ear.

"I heard you laugh," McGovern said, yet shriller, and James ground his teeth more, turning to glare at the empty back alcove of Dumbledore's office to McGovern's right. Typical.

"Thank you Miss McGovern, that will be all," Professor Sprout said as she stood, ushering her seventh year prefect out of the door, shutting it behind her and making her way back to the row of chairs where McGonagall, Flitwick, and Sluggy were sitting.

James wanted to make a joke, he really did. He'd never wanted to make a joke more in his life. But Evans was hugging herself so tightly he could see marks on her bare arms where the blood was gone from her grip, and Dumbledore looked so grave as he stared at the three of them that he couldn't think of a single thing to say.

"Good thing you didn't make her Head Girl, eh Professor?" Granger said unexpectedly, her voice sounding caustic and normal again.

"Mind yourself, Miss Granger," McGonagall said, but without, it was to be said, her usual bite. The professors all were at a loss.

Lily gave a tiny snicker, and James unclenched his teeth a bit. His leg kept bouncing in rhythm with his pounding heart.

He tried to smile at Granger, to thank her for making Lily laugh at least a little, for being brave and doing the right thing even though she'd not exactly had a great time of things at school, but his jaw refused to work. And anyway, when he'd made eye contact with Granger again, trying to smile through the lockjaw, she'd looked away like James was diseased.

The occupants of the room looked at each other in uncomfortable silence. It was the first time James had seen old McGonagall at a loss for words. Sluggy wasn't waggling his fingers and chuckling. In fact, Sluggy was rather whey faced and sweating a little. James doubted he often roused himself enough to climb all of the stairs to Dumbledore's office.

"So am I being expelled?" Granger asked flatly, breaking the silence, "sent to Azkaban?"

"No!" Lily said explosively, and everyone jumped. It was the first time she'd talked since Granger had found them.

"Of course not," McGonagall said loudly, and then she looked at Dumbledore, whose face was impassive. "Right, Albus?"

"You did use a dark curse in front of witnesses, Miss Granger," Dumbledore said placidly.

Granger shrugged.

"No she didn't," James lied, forcing his jaw open. She had, of course. She'd used several. Not unforgivable worthy, not quite, but it wasn't all freezing charms and tickling hexes and glitter bombs either.

"I believe she did," Slughorn corrected, wiping at his forehead, "most unfortunate."

"You know what's unfortunate?" James said loudly, his leg bouncing so fast he was apt to kick a hole in Dumbledore's desk, "that you're not breaking their wands and sending to Azkaban the little shits that were trying to assault Evans."

"Well now, assault-" Slughorn started to protest.

The past two hours had been spent recounting the horrible ordeal while Pomfrey had fixed Evans's cracked skull and the perpetrators were locked up in the Hospital Wing. James had thought it would be fast. They had the four miscreants who had been threatening the Head Boy and Girl and tied them up, four six year Slytherin boys. They had three witnesses to the vile attack. And they had Dumbledore as Headmaster. Four expulsions, four breaking of wands, four sentences to jail. What was the problem?

He had not, of course, accounted for Slughorn successfully arguing that it had been a mean spirited prank that got out of hand. He had not expected Flitwick to come back from talking to the Slytherin scumbags with tales of deepest apologies for a joke gone awry. He had not expected Dumbledore to hint to James that he hadn't expelled Sirius for almost killing Snivellus via werewolf homicide in fifth year, and that being a far greater offense. He had not expected Lily and Granger to sit in silence while he argued, alone. He had certainly not expected the prefects to be summoned, and given instructions on how to deal with pranks from now on.

"Assault," James boomed across Sluggy, his teeth rattling from his leg jigging, "what else d'you call that? They were making comments about her knickers, for Merlin's sake!"

"Hardly assault," Slughorn said, "a mean prank, but if you recall, Mr. Potter, you have hung one of my students upside down and insulted his pants in front of a great deal more students then Miss Evans had watching her-"

"Not the same!" McGonagall said, even louder then James, and good old McGonagall, how could James have ever found her rigid and unforgiving? "A group of boys making sexual comments on a pretty young girl who they've tied up alone in the castle is not the same thing, Horace!"

"She was not alone," Slughorn said stubbornly, "and these boys have a long history of mischief making with Mr. Potter and his friends."

"I wouldn't call it mischief making," McGonagall said, outraged, as James pictured in his mind punching in every single face of the boys who had threatened Lily.

"Boys will be boys, Minerva!" Slughorn said, "There's no reason to-"

"I really thought you were less of a coward then this, Professor," Granger said unexpectedly, "what happened to you?"

The silence was so thorough James could hear the movement of robes, the squeak of Lily's chair as she shifted, hugging herself more.

"Five points from Gryffindor," Dumbledore said, as Granger kept staring at the carpet and everyone stared at her.

James brain, which had been going through turns for hours, flipped another switch.

"Yes, by all means take points from Hermione," Lily said, her voice hoarse, "she only just saved our lives while you defend a bunch of junior Death Eaters."

"Miss Evans," Slughorn said, his face purple red with anger, and perhaps embarrassment, "you know I care deeply about you! This is merely a misunderstanding. I will punish my students of course-"

"Will you, Horace?" Professor Sprout said, "Or will you tell them boys will be boys?"

"I want them expelled," James said, both legs jiggling now, "now. Today." Sirius had a Lord of Black Manor voice, try as he did to deny it, which came out from time to time. It was part of what happened when you were raised a pure-blood. James never used his. But James had been raised a rich pure-blood same as his best mate. And if he had to pull rank on Slughorn, he would. "My parents will want that too. So will Evans's parents, even if none of you care about their opinion just cause they're Muggles."
The professors gasped.

"Mr. Potter," Flitwick squeaked, "that is a serious accusation to-"

"It's the truth," Lily said, "you don't worry about what my parents will do when they hear. Will you even tell them?"

"No," Granger said unexpectedly again, "Dumbledore never does."

Everyone looked at her in surprise. If James could register anything other than white hot rage that he'd maybe almost watched Lily Evans get assaulted in some manner or other by a group of Slytherins and said Slytherins were in the process of getting away with it he would be curious about Granger. But he didn't have anything other than the rage.

"I'm writing my parents immediately," James said, his voice vibrating from the vigorous leg jiggles, "you can't stop me. Evans is writing hers. Granger is writing hers." Dumbledore glanced over his spectacles from Granger back to James, "and then we're getting justice for this. I want them expelled. You're lucky I'm not demanding they be sent to Azkaban."

James of course, had just demanded minutes before that the Slytherin hooligans be sent to Azkaban, but prudently no one made mention of this.

"Send them to Azkaban," Granger muttered, "who cares."

"That is enough," Dumbledore said gently, "I will gather a thorough look at what occurred and make a decision then. No one will be sent to Azkaban, no matter what curses they used," Dumbledore said, and James saw he looked at Granger pointedly once more.

"Just use your pensieve," Granger snapped, "save yourself some time. Get Jam—Potter's and Evans's memories and see for yourself. Show him-" she jerked her head angrily at Slughorn "what they did, and then maybe you'll both grow a spine."

"That is enough," Dumbledore said again, this time not gently, "Minerva, please escort Mr. Potter and Miss Evans to the hospital wing. Horace, you may speak to your students to ascertain the full story. Filius, Pomona, please join your house prefects in informing your students about our new rules on pranks. Miss Granger, you may stay here."

"No," Lily said, "you can't make her-"

"It's fine," Granger said sharply, looking up from the carpet, "Professor Dumbledore and I have a lot to discuss."

James stood, trying to reach for Lily, but she shrunk away. His eyes looked again at the back corner of the office, narrowing.

"Potter, help me out here," Lily hissed.

"She'll be fine," James said, widening his eyes and subtly jerking his head at Granger as he looked into the empty corner.

"What are you looking at?" Lily said, bewildered.

"Potter, time to go," McGonagall said, her mouth thinner then James had ever seen it. She was Minnie the Mouthless, destroyer of fun. "Your behavior is out of character. We must get you checked for spell damage."

"Yeah, sure," James said, and he followed McGonagall and Lily out of the room, a whisper of a cloak brushing his left knee as he passed the empty corner. He nodded at nothing. No one noticed.

Sirius sat under the cloak crammed with Pete, both of them sweating copiously. The cloak was made for multiple young boys, or one large man, or one and a half decent sized teenage boys. Luckily Pete was quite short still, but it was uncomfortable enough to try to hide every limb. And with McGovern falling onto them and James practically pointing and screaming at them in front of everyone, he was sure they'd be caught. But they hadn't been. Pete poked Sirius in the ribs as the silence between Granger and Dumbledore went on and on. Everyone else had filed out of the room as Sirius sat in baffled rage. From what he'd picked up, something awful had happened to Evans and some Slytherins were getting away with it. That's all he had to know. But he had stopped Pete from following after James. He knew his brother. And his brother wanted him to watch over Granger for some reason.

Pete poked him again.

"What?" Sirius mouthed.

"What are we doing?" Pete mouthed back.

"Spying," Sirius replied silently.

Granger was scuffing the carpet with her toes. Dumbledore had his eyes closed, his fingers steepled. The portraits were rustling around and whispering. Even Fawkes was watching.

Dumbledore opened his eyes after a few more minutes.

"That was very foolish of you, Hermione," he said finally.

"I know," Granger said mutinously, scuffing at the carpet still.

"Look at me," Dumbledore commanded, and Sirius's eyes widened at the same time Pete inhaled sharply.

"What for?" Granger said, "I can't undo it, can I?"

"Can't you?" Dumbledore said cryptically.

"No," Granger said, but she still wasn't looking at Dumbledore, "You know I can't."

"I said, look at me!" Dumbledore said loudly, and Sirius clasped his hand over Pete's mouth so he would stop gasping out loud at their headmaster's shocking behavior. The last thing they needed was to be caught.

Granger looked up, but Sirius couldn't see her face from where they were, just her terrible, terrible hair.

"I think you can," Dumbledore said finally, after examining her face, "I think you can undo a great many things."
"That's what I'm trying to avoid," Granger said, sitting up suddenly, her hands gripping her chair arms, "as you very well know."

"If you are trying, you're doing very poorly," Dumbledore said brutally, "are you not?"

Granger muttered something.

"Are you not?" Dumbledore repeated.

Sirius couldn't see her face, but he knew Granger was furious. She'd been angry enough times at him for Sirius to recognize the stiff way she was holding her shoulders.

"Yes," she said finally, voice tight, "I'm doing poorly. But regardless, I am trying. Hard. It's not been easy, Dumbledore."

"Try harder," Dumbledore said bluntly, as the portraits exchanged glances and Pete breathed on Sirius's clamping hand.

"You could help more, you know," Granger snapped. Sirius pinched his own leg to make sure he wasn't in the middle of some confusing and boring nightmare. No one talked to Dumbledore like this as far as he knew. And the headmaster was just taking it.

"And how could I do that?" Dumbledore asked, "Please think, Hermione."

"I am," Hermione snarled "how dare you say I'm not! And while I'm at it, you could do something about all of these people bullying me."

"Do something yourself," Dumbledore said cruelly, "we both know you are more than capable."

"I thought you didn't want anyone dead," Granger said, "my mistake."

Pete jerked in surprise next to Sirius. He felt his own eyes bugging out of his head. What was happening?

"You are focusing on the wrong things," Dumbledore said, "Like I told you last time."

"Everything's ruined," Granger said furiously, the portraits listening as avidly as Sirius and Pete were, "don't you understand? I've ruined everything."

Dumbledore stood up, clearly done with this conversation.

"Then I suggest you fix it," he said coldly, "and stop wasting my time with your complaints and childish pursuits."

"Noted," Granger said, voice clipped, and she stood up, Sirius able to see her face for the first time as she turned from the headmaster and made her way to the door, her expression like thunder. She stormed past Sirius and Pete hiding under the cloak and reached for the door.

"And Hermione?" Dumbledore said to her back.

"What?" Granger said, not turning, hand still outstretched for the knob.

"Keep an eye out for Black, would you?"

"That's what I'm doing," Granger said harshly, and before Dumbledore could reply she wrenched the door open, slamming it behind her so hard the portraits rattled.

Dumbledore sighed.

"Rude," Phineas Nigellus piped up as Pete and Sirius exchanged wide eyed glances, "don't know why you tolerate that sort of thing, Dumbledore."
"Yes yes, that's quite enough," Dumbledore said, holding his hands out to the portraits, "if you could all keep quiet for a while, I've got some work to do."

He picked up a quill and started writing.

James was pacing up and down the common room, puncturing his speech with fist punches to his palm.

"We cannot allow this," he said loudly, rounding a couch full of wide-eyed first years.

"We won't," Quorty Fillimon said back, just as loudly as James.

James glanced over to where Evans would be sitting, rolling her eyes at a typical James Potter show, or perhaps telling him to deflate his massive ego by bashing his head against a sharp object, but Evans was upstairs with her mates. Maybe she was sleeping. Maybe she was trying for brave jokes, downplaying what had just happened. Maybe she was crying. James punched his palm again at that thought and a third year jumped.

"We'll pay them back, Potter, no worries," Edgar Kelly said loudly, "the Slytherins can't get away with tying up our Head Boy and Girl."

Roars of agreement came from that statement, and James felt his face flood with color. Rage, of course, but also a bit of humiliation. Mostly, he felt impotent. Right when someone needed him to be James Potter, heroic Gryffindor, Head Boy extraordinaire, he'd been useless. And the person that had needed him to save he with all his Gryffindor chivalry? Oh, only the girl he'd been in love with since first week of first year, when she'd impertinently told Slughorn that she was NOT related to the Evans clan who lived in Moreton-in-Marsh, but was related to the even more impressive Evans clan from Little Whinging, Surrey. She'd gone on for some length about the merit of her art teacher father and healer mother. Although, Evans had said a different word that James had misheard as Hearst and he'd assumed Mrs. Evans dealt with the dead. But just when James had been gifted a golden opportunity on a platter to save Evans from evil, just like he'd fantasized about one too many times, he'd bungled it up and flopped around like a dying fish on the floor, only to be saved by the girl he'd spent weeks debating whether she was a dark witch of nefarious intent. All in all, it was perhaps the worst day of James Potter's charmed young life.

"We'll come up with something," Cassiopeia Fawcett assured James, "they can't just go thinking they can look at girls knickers and take pictures like that!"

"No one took pictures," James said loudly, rounding the armchair again, punching his palm once more, "Don't go spreading that nonsense about."

"Yeah, sure," Cassiopeia said, "only I heard—"

"There were no pictures!" James bellowed, and half the crammed full common room jumped. Everyone was used to the mercurial nature of Sirius Black. A dashing charming light hearted rogue one moment, an angry, sullen boy the next, a raging terror at worst. But James was arrogant, true, yet charming. Easy-going. Funny.

"You sure?" Edgar asked hesitantly.

"Of course," James lied. He had no idea actually. It was possible that those sick bloody bastards had taken pictures of Evans in disarray while they'd been knocked out and were flashing them all over Slytherin, where somewhere Sluggy wagged his stupid finger and giggled about naughty little scamps, that's just how boys were, don't you know.

"Boys will be boys," James said out loud scornfully, "yeah, right. More like demented fucks will be demented fucks."

People gasped again, but James took no notice as he tore a hole in the threadbare carpet with his pacing.

"I'll owl my parents," Victoria Arnold said, "they won't stand for girls getting their knickers looked at by those gross boys. Who was it anyway, Potter?"

James stopped for a second.

"Dunno," he said, "does it matter? It was some stupid Slytherins."

"Snivellus?" someone asked.

"No," James said automatically, "they were sixth years."

Granger had shown up like vengeful spirit made of thorn bushes and bad clothing decisions and knocked out their captors in ten seconds flat, her wand flashing as angrily as her eyes. James had flopped over to Evans, but he had been just as useless as he'd been all night until Granger had stopped kicking Slytherin arse and released them both. James had wanted to thank her, but there had been no time, McGonagall had arrived, then the other professors, and they'd all three been ushered to the hospital wing before the grand unmasking. He hadn't even thought about who it could've been. All he could see was the way Evans had been talking nonsense, her head injury terrifying James more then he'd ever been in his life. All he could see was the look on Evans face when they'd laughed at her knickers, the barely masked panic in her eyes as the boys jested with them in a way that was so threatening.

"I bet it was," Edgar said, "little puss-ball, he's always—"

"It wasn't Snivellus," James repeated loudly. As much as he loathed Snivelly, he would never do something like that to Evans. "I just said it was sixth years. That's what McGongagall said."

James resumed pacing, his gaze returning sporadically to the portrait hole.

Everyone had been dying to talk to Granger, including James, a whole common room full of little Sirius Black stalker wannabes. But Granger, as usual, was not doing what anyone wanted her to do. She had never returned.

"We'll find out who it was," Cassiopeia said, "we'll get them. We can't just lose Gryffindor's reputation like this."

"Who cares about our reputation!" James bellowed, glancing at the portrait hole. Where the bloody hell Was Sirius and Pete? Were they still trapped in Dumbledore's office under the cloak? "We need to get justice for Evans! And for all the girls here!"

There were cries of agreement.

"Do you want to be tied up and threatened by a group of boys next?" James demanded of a terrified looking first year. She burst into tears.

"Do you want your knickers flashed about to bullies?" James asked a fourth year girl named Esmeralda something or other.

"No way," she said, "and if they saw, I'd burn their eyes out with an Adere hex."

There were a few cheers at that. James nodded. Remus met his eyes and frowned.

"Do you want a picture of your family stolen and painted on with threats?" James said, pointing at Mary McDonald.

Behind them, the portrait hold opened and everyone turned, holding their breaths. A loud explosion of disappointment greeted Pete, who turned red with embarrassment.

"Where's Black?" John Millman asked Pete, who was making his way through the crowd at the door to the boy's dormitory.

"Er, bathroom," Pete said, "stomach upset." He flinched for no reason.

"There's a bathroom here," John said, "several, in fact—"

"No I don't want a picture stolen," Mary said loudly, crossing he arms, "nor did I want to have my shirt drenched in water and then ripped open by a wind spell, but that's what Mulcibur and his mates did to me two years ago and no one cared then."

"That's not fair," Edgar protested.

"I cared," James said, "you know I cared. Didn't we make it so Mulcibur farted every time he spoke for the next two weeks?"

"Yeah, thanks," Mary said, "that removed the trauma of what happened."

Pete quietly opened up the door, and held it open to no one. James eyes narrowed, and he started to follow.

"Listen let's use that," he said over his shoulder, "hopefully it's Mulcibur's brother and we get him expelled, yeah? Everyone write your parents. All of you. Dumbledore will have to listen then."

A roar of agreement followed him as James raced up the stairs after Pete, hearing whispers ahead. Behind him he could hear Remus talking to the crowded dorm about Dumbledore's new prank procedure.

"And where do you think you're going?" James demanded, yanking the cloak off of Sirius, who growled at him.

"I need the map," he said, "Pete and I overheard in the common room that Granger's missing. I want to find her."

"She's with Dumbledore," James said.

"No she's not," Pete said, "we saw her leave, and then we were trapped, for ages and ages, Dumbledore ate an entire bar of raisin nut Honeydukes chocolate, one of those giant ones too, and then he—"

"Maybe she's by the lake," Sirius said, "either way, I need to—"

"Leave her alone, for Merlin's sake!" James shouted, "don't you see she's not done anything wrong? She just saved Lily! Not me, I was useless, some Head Boy, but Granger, she—"

"You didn't hear her talking to Dumbledore," Pete said, "that was really suspicious."
"I'm sick of you having it out for her, Sirius!" James continued like Pete hadn't spoken, "we're going to be nice to her now, end of story."

"Oh I agree," Sirius said, "that's why I'm looking for her."

But of course, he was lying.

He couldn't find her anywhere. She wasn't by the lake. She wasn't in the deserted library. She wasn't in the dorms. She hadn't doubled back to Dumbledore's office. She wasn't drowning her sorrows with the house elves in the kitchens. Hermione Granger had apparently ceased to exist.

"I can't find her," Sirius said to James, who had been waiting up in the common room. "Is she back here?"

"No," James said. He was jiggling his leg still. It was possible someone had cast a tarentellegra on him while they were tied up.

"You sure?" Sirius demanded, "only, that one time she snuck back and none of us-"

"I'm sure," James snapped. On his lap was their map spread out, jouncing with his jiggling leg. "She's not in the girls dorm."

"It's two am," Remus said from his spot on the other couch by the fire, "maybe we should try this novel idea called getting sleep?"

"No one's stopping you," Sirius said rudely. Pete snored from the squashy red armchair in the corner to emphasize his point.

"I need to talk to Granger," James said, still staring at the map.

"Isn't that my line?" Sirus groused. He tossed the cloak over one of his shoulders. Peeves had heard him on the fourth floor but he'd ducked behind a statue before the poltergeist could zoom into him. Otherwise the castle had been quiet and still aside from a pair of patrolling prefects.

"It's a tired tune," Remus yawned, "learn some new songs, guys."

"Well I want to thank her," James said, rubbing at his eyes, his glasses knocking about, "don't lump me in with Sirius."

"I want to thank her too," Sirius said, "what's that supposed to mean, James?"

James and Remus snorted together.

"What?" Sirius said.

"I said we're going to be nice to her and I mean it," James said ominously.

"And I agreed!" Sirius protested.

James stopped rubbing his eyes and looked at Sirius, his myopic eyes now narrowed.

"So you think I'm dumb?" James said.

"Well you did get yourself caught by a bunch of Slytherins and tied to chairs," Sirius said, trying to get that serious look off of James's face. It didn't belong there. James Potter was meant to be happy and content and confident, a boy raised by loving parents in a wonderful home who had not seen hardship and never would, a funny brave boy who was his best mate. Not this boy doing an impression of Minerva McGonagall.

"Yes you're right," James said, "we all have to be on guard from now on. No more kids games."

Sirius groaned. "That was the opposite of my intent," he said. He couldn't bear it if James got all uptight by following rules and being nice to people. He loved Remus, but they already had one of him. "Listen, I''m going to go try by the lake again, that's where she was lurking about last time. I think-"

"No," Remus said firmly, then ruined it by yawning. "I'm putting my foot down lads. Let's get sleep, then you both can shower Hermione Granger with presents, compliments, recitations of horrid poems-"

"I would at least write a good poem," Sirius said, getting up with the cloak in his arms again, "don't lump me in with James."

"Hey!" James said, indignantly. Sirius knew James wished dearly that everyone would forget about that incident with Evans and the pornographic poem, but he had no intention of ever letting it die. He'd say it at James's wedding, if the poor bugger ever tricked some bird to marry him.. He'd tattoo it on James's arse one day when he was drunk. He'd get it engraved on James's tomb, even if Sirius died first, which to be honest, was more then likely. He'd manage it somehow.

"It would be all poetic and shite," Sirius said, trying not to yawn and failing. "Not a Potter special. No one needs to hear a poem about bushy hair down-"

"Hey," Remus said, actually clutching at his chest, but James cracked a smile and Sirius counted that as a victory.

"Bedtime," James said, immediately negating the victory, "I agree with Remus, Sirius. Let's plan a way to thank Granger tomorr-"

The portrait hole opened again and Granger came through, a trickle of sweat on her left temple, a larger streak of dirt on her right cheek, blood spotting on her lower lip. Sirius, who had started to pull the cloak on again, regardless of what James and Remus, the twin wet blankets said, kicked it off him frantically, James standing and shoving the map behind his back with a crackle of parchment.

Granger made eye contact with Sirius, and turned to walk back out in silence.

"Hey now!" James bellowed, "Granger, what happened to your face?"

"Genetics," Sirius muttered automatically, and that, of all things, caused Granger to turn back to glare at him. He hadn't even really meant it! It had just popped out! Sure her hair was horrid, but her face wasn't that bad. And her arse was great, frankly.

"What did I tell you about these forced Muggle references, Black?" Granger snapped.

Sirius forced a winning smile on his face. "That you find it charming and irresistible?" he said, pushing back his hair. No girl yet had been able to withstand the hair flick and charming smile combination. He remembered Reg's crunchy attempt on Granger and amended his thought. No girl had been able to withstand it from him, anyway.

"I was going to say condescending and trite, actually," Granger said, swiping at her lip angrily, then she seemed to come to her senses and realize she was trading barbs with Sirius and made to turn again, to go Merlin knew where and do Merlin knew what. And James didn't think she deserved suspicion?

But before she could flee the common room James was there, dragging her into a bear hug and Granger was making noises of protest.

"James," Remus hissed, making his way over as Granger pushed at him without much heat.

"We've been over this, Prongs," Sirius said, "enthusiasm from girls for touching, yes?"

"Like you'd know," Granger said rudely, as James let her go and she twitched away from him, crossing her arms.

"I'll have you know I've got a number of girls who'd vouch for me," Sirius said, "willing to give me whaddya call em. Job References."

"I'm glad you agree touching you is an endeavor worthy of recruitment and payment," Granger said sourly, brushing at her bloody lip again.

"Speaking of snogging me, what happened to you?" Sirius asked, crossing his own arms as James raised a hand to inspect Granger's injuries and dropped it immediately when she flinched away from him. Sirius had never seen such a skittish girl in his life.

"Wild session with your brother," Granger said brutally, trying to skirt around James who had a weird, wet look on his face that Sirius usually associated with him trying to woo Evans. God no. Did he have to compete with his brother and James now for this annoying and possibly evil, thorn bush haired girl's attention?

"Ouch," James said mildly, as Granger darted past the sleeping Pete and Remus, who had his hands in his pockets and was being absolutely no help in cornering Granger.

"Like Reg is into that," Sirius snorted, "though, I'll grant you I believe that he was so confused about what to do with a girl he bit you instead."

"Maybe I bit him," Granger tossed over her shoulder, making her way to the stairwell.

"Remus, stop her," James hissed under his breath, as he and Sirius made their way after her, "listen Granger, what happened to your-"

Remus stuck out his foot and James went sprawling. He put out his left arm and whacked Sirius in the chest with his palm, and Sirius was felled once again by the surprising wiry strength of Remus Lupin, boy werewolf, and fell over on top of James.

The door to the girls' dorm banged shut loudly as Granger escaped.

"Whazzat?" Pete said, awakening with a lurch that took him rolling off the couch and onto Sirius and James.

"You know," James said to the carpet, "I'm really tired to being squash into the floor like a bug tonight." His glasses were cracked for the hundred millionth time.

"I'm not exactly enjoying Pete's arse in my nostril," Sirius agreed. His words were muffled by Pete's generous rear.

"Serves you right," Remus said from over them, "I thought we were thanking her and being nice to her for saving you, Prongs, and then you and Sirius practically tackle her to the floor like cavemen."

Sirius and James and Pete rolled and flopped around, groaning to get away from each other.

"I just wanted to say thanks," James said mulishly, sitting up and pushing his broken glasses up his thin nose.

"And I just wanted to say thanks too," Sirius lied, cracking his back. James really had been going through a growth spurt lately.

"Yeah, with your willy," Pete said, retrieving a stray shoe that had gotten lost in the scuffle.

"My what?" Sirius said loudly, as Remus and James laughed.

"Your willy," Pete repeated, and James fell back to the floor, howling. It wasn't often Pete got off even a decent zinger.

Sirius opened his mouth, indignant, balling up the cloak in his hand. It was even less often that he couldn't think of a comeback. And it was never he couldn't think of a comeback to Wormtail, of all people! Prolonged contact with the harpy earlier in the day had sucked his brain out of his head. It was the only explanation.

"Oooh, thank you Granger," James said in a high pitched falsetto, "thank you for saaaving my best friend and his future wife."

"Future wife?" Sirius laughed, but it was feeble, and no one laughed with him. I wasn't like James's delusions about Lily Evans was fresh fodder to mock.

James's voice got even higher, "is there anything I can do to thank you, Hermione? Any needs you need satisfied? Or not satisfied, honestly, I can only give you about thirty seconds of thanks."

Remus was crying, actually crying with mirth, and Wormtail had turned puce from his laughter, which was so extreme it had gone silent.

"Is that supposed to be my willy talking?" Sirius asked, "it's a little more manly sounding than that, yeah?"

"Ooh, but see," James said, putting the voice on even higher, perhaps attracting bats soon, "see, how the rest of me doesn't deny my thirty seconds of thanks! Well, I guess he knows thirty seconds is generous, so he didn' t want to—"

Sirius tackled James, and the combined shouting laughter of the four Marauders woke up half of Gryffindor tower, ending with the Head Boy and his mates in detention for what McGonagall assured them was the 8,421st time. But up in the adjoining bathroom to the seventh year girl's bedroom, Hermione Granger stared at her busted lip in the mirror.

"He's going to pay for this."