Written as a response to 'History of Magic' in The School Subjects Challenge created by ladyoftheknightley over at HPFC.

'The challenge here is to write a fic about any characters from a previous era to the books. Your characters or pairing must come from the Founders, Riddle or Marauders era. Cross-gen is only acceptable between these eras.'

Rated M because when it comes to Sirius's dirty mind it's better to be safe than sorry.

Food, Corsets and Swordplay

I was the clever one.

After every single test/exam/unusual torture experiment forced upon us by the Hogwarts Professors (aka 'The Prison Guards') James and I had compared marks. On every test I beat him except when he would get 100% in Transfiguration and even then I matched him. Always.

Cold hard evidence apparently turned into bullshit when it surrounded James Potter however (aka 'The Wonder Child' or 'Spoilt Bastard' or 'Bambi's Gay Cousin'). Why, I hear you ask? Glasses. All because he wore glasses. I'd tried wearing specs to prove this theory last year until six different people told me I looked like the prehistoric librarian herself.

It only annoyed me because the ladies loved him for it. He's scrawny with despicably messy hair and yet with glasses on they all think he's Clark fucking Kent. Considering he's blind as Hagrid's Dad when they're off how they think he's going to be a great shag is beyond me. Whilst we're on the topic, Hagrid's Dad really must have been blind, I mean, a giantess? He'd told us after a few brandy's and I nearly spat my drink out. Mr Hagrid Senior must have had mental issues, either that or he had an absolutely massive –

"Sirius?"

"Yeah?"

"I think we can probably make a dash for it. They must have thought we'd go through Chileana's tapestry. Amateurs."

Pressing my ear to the door in an effort to get highly graphic naked Hagrid's out of my head I strained for any of the screams that had plagued us since we got here. Swords being drawn and brandished at us was becoming an uncomfortably common occurrence too.

I should have known this was going to happen. When James had said he'd found a time travel spell I thought he was just a little shell – shocked after spending hours reorganising books in the library manually. One of the harshest detentions I think I've ever seen Minnie give especially since Peter had been the one to charm her entire wardrobe invisible to everyone but her. Transfiguration had been very interesting that day, who knew ol' Min – Min was partial to a bit of blue lace? The whole of Hogwarts now. Still, that's beside the point. It was James's turn and he took it like a man but after three months of solid detention every night he looked more strung out than a house elf high on sugar. He'd waved his hands excitedly in the air and then winced (Books are incredibly vicious. Remus thinks I'm dramatic but he's the one with super strength.), pushing me down onto the bed.

It had taken him a while to convince me.

"You know Sirius, you really can't blame me. You wanted to try it out as much as I did. All I did was mention rhubarb crumble, hadn't even gotten half way through my sentence and you were leaping up and down like an overexcited puppy."

"Shut up, I'm thinking… Thinking and listening hard. Idiot."

Like I was saying, it had taken him a while to convince me. There had been pleading, begging, cajoling and even puppy dogs eyes – another favourite of the ladies but it doesn't work on me considering I taught him how to do it. Then when he was on his hands and knees distraught by my lack of interest I caved. If James tells you a different version of what happened, don't believe him. He's always trying to ruin my reputation.

Reluctantly, very reluctantly I had followed him to the East Tower and in an abandoned empty classroom full of extra desks and quite a few odd statues in interesting positions we'd cleared a large space and followed the instructions.

I should have known it wasn't going to work like we wanted it to. James sold me on the idea of playing a prank and well, if we made a stop by the kitchens along the way then who was I to be the one to say no? A boy's got to eat. Food and sex, that's all a man needs. Why women think differently with all their 'emotions' and other crap I'll never know.

'Just a few hours Sirius.'

'We can fill Peter's bag with live dung beetles.'

'We can use the cloak of invisibility to sneak into the Hufflepuff Quidditch changing rooms.'

One minute I was chanting weird old English thinking about tits, specifically Eleanor McGower's, a Chaser on the all – girl Hufflepuff team with a pair of double D's I would happily die for… Well I'd let Peter die for them. Then I opened my eyes to see a sword merely inches away, waving around in my face. James froze, eyes wide and terrified. 'Deer Mode' as Remus liked to call it, fucking annoying felt more apt. I grabbed him, shot a stunner and a tap dancing jinx and then we'd bailed. How it had happened I don't know but I was more or less convinced we'd gone a little further back than a few hours. In fact, scratch that, I was bloody certain we'd gone no less than a few hundred years back, especially after someone who looked eerily like Sir Cadogan challenged me to a duel with a broadsword in his hand crying "Braggart!" at the top of his lungs. He wasn't in a painting which was pretty disconcerting. Then he charged and whilst I didn't scream in terror like Snape having a shower it was a pretty close thing.

Sighing I turned to look at James who pushed his glasses up his nose with his finger.

Seriously, I'm the one with the hair and the brains. It's not even like they think nerds are cool otherwise Moony would be rolling and the only reason he gets chicks is because of all the rumours about him being an animal in the bedroom. I try not to think about that though, especially since I'm pretty sure he and Andy got frisky in a broom cupboard.

I don't enjoy thinking about my cousin in that light. Yet another way I'm not your archetypal pureblood.

"I'm pretty sure the coast is clear. If it isn't, we run. If we get split up I think we should meet –"

"– in the kitchens?"

I grinned at James who winked back. The man knows me.

Pushing the door open hard we both took a tentative step out, glanced around and then immediately relaxed, feigning calm when we noticed no one was around. James nodded his head down the corridor with a questioning look and I shrugged then followed after him, trying to match his near silent tread. Ever since he became an animagus he could walk anywhere in any shoes and not be heard. I wasn't particularly loud myself, I just found it hard to be calm like him. Bloody vegetarian.

"Now I know you're probably going to be angry when you have time to be."

"Believe me Prongs, I'm pretty angry right now as it is."

James carried on like he hadn't heard me.

"But I've thought of a way that us being in the past can be a good thing."

I stopped, turned and folded my arms, brow arched to give me maximum incredulous power.

"Oh really? Well please, enlighten me oh wise one because here I was freaking out about the fact no one we know is alive, that we're in a castle where no one can understand us and everyone wants to kill us on sight. In fact, they might burn us at the stake. They might be savages. The might not even have food that we can eat. No chips Potter! Being in the past means no bloody chips so please oh please tell me how this is a good thing."

James waited a beat to see if I really had finished. I could have gone on but I don't like being dramatic so I waved my hand for him to continue.

"We're a good few centuries back which means we know things no one else does" James said excitedly "Which means Padfoot, we can invent things, create things! They'll think we're geniuses! We could be famous, rich!"

I mulled this thought over. There was actually some merit in it.

"But we have to work out how to get back to our own time. After all James, you've got to marry Evans in the next two years or humans will become extinct, mass apocalypse, the works."

His expression changed, suddenly crestfallen and I have a feeling he hadn't caught onto my biting sarcasm. It normally goes over his head when the red-headed demon is concerned. What? So I don't like the perfect Lily Evans, there's plenty of grounds for it! That's just another story for another time and to be honest I think we've got enough going on right now so you'll just have to cope with vague references, okay? Cool.

"Maybe… maybe we become rich and famous whilst working for a way to go back and then I marry Evans? You can be my best man."

"and the godfather of your first born son."

"I think you might be pushing it with that one, Lily's not going to let you be Godfather. She has this really weird idea that you're irresponsible."

He did that thing with his glasses again, this time on purpose to make out he was the sensible one. Twat.

I bit my lip and scratched my head thinking about it and then met his eyes dead on.

"You invent Quidditch. I'll find ways to make myself famous."

James' eyes narrowed slightly.

"Such as…"

"I'm going to write Hogwarts: A History."

The look on his face made saying such a blasphemous thing worth it.

"Wha-what?"

I started walking off down the corridor and then threw him my best shit – eating grin. He scowled and then quickly caught up.

"Honestly, what are you thinking of doing? You could invent spells, make chocolate, create a religion, invent custard, invent the flying carpet, invent cars."

"Prongs prongs prongs. You're thinking about this all the wrong way. As great as those ideas are, they all require work and effort. What's one thing I'm good at effortlessly?"

He paused for less than half a second "Eating?"

"Eating and…"

I watched him think and then he looked at me, a slow grin spreading across his face. I winked with a laugh.

"Oh yeah Potter. We're in the dark ages and women, poor women well they need liberating from oppressive views, from tight bodices and corsets. In steps Sirius Black, love maker extraordinaire. Just what the doctor ordered."

James clapped me on the back with a shake of his head. Clearly he was jealous he hadn't thought of my plan before but what can I say? I'm the clever one.

"First thing first, how're we going to get them to stop trying to kill us?"

"Well, I've got an idea. You remember that prank we did third year?"

"With the moss and the flamingo legs?"

"No the one with the sparkles and aphrodisiac scented candles."

"Right yeah… Oh… Oh that could work!"

We continued plotting and I couldn't help but smile. So we were stuck in a time period unknown by a spell we couldn't quite remember in what was essentially a foreign land. We'd make it work, we always did. Worst came to worst I could conjure a pair of glasses, see if they do the trick. If not, well then I think panic might be our only option. Panic or comfort sex. Maybe both plus food. What? You know you were thinking it.

Let me know what you think :)

Abby x