Lessons and Tensions
February 9th, 1972
“You’ve got to be joking, Remus,” Sirius said one evening, watching as his friend meticulously copied notes from their Transfiguration textbook. “We’re twelve! We’ve got time before we have to actually learn things.”
Remus didn’t look up. “I’d like to pass my classes, thanks.”
“Pass your classes?” James scoffed. “You’ll pass them with flying colors even if you don’t open another book all year.”
Peter chimed in from his spot by the fire. “Honestly, Remus, you’re making the rest of us look bad.”
Remus rolled his eyes but didn’t argue. In truth, he liked the structure of schoolwork—it was predictable, manageable, and far easier to control than the chaos that sometimes swirled around his friends.
Potions was the only class where the Gryffindor boys shared space with the Slytherins, and it was quickly becoming a battleground. The tension between their groups had only grown since their prank on Snape, and it was clear that he was still plotting his revenge.
January 10th, 1972
One dreary Thursday afternoon, they were tasked with brewing a Shrinking Solution. As always, Professor Slughorn ambled about the classroom, offering tips and occasional anecdotes while the students worked.
James and Sirius were paired together at the front, their cauldron already bubbling brightly. Remus and Peter worked nearby, Remus quietly correcting Peter’s measurements as they went.
From the back of the room, Snape’s voice cut through the quiet. “Careful, Potter,” he sneered. “Wouldn’t want you to ruin your potion and embarrass yourself in front of the whole class.”
James didn’t look up but smirked as he tossed in another ingredient. “Don’t worry about me, Snivellus. Maybe focus on your own potion for once.”
Sirius snorted, and Snape’s pale face flushed with anger. “You think you’re so clever, don’t you?” he spat. “Always showing off like you’re better than everyone else.”
“Maybe because we are,” Sirius said with a shrug.
Before Snape could retort, Slughorn’s booming voice interrupted. “All right, settle down, settle down. Let’s see how everyone’s doing.”
The rest of the class passed without incident, but the tension lingered, thick and unspoken.
That evening, the boys gathered in their dormitory, the remnants of their dinner scattered across the floor. James was lounging on his bed, tossing a Quaffle into the air, while Sirius paced the room, clearly agitated.
“I can’t stand him,” Sirius muttered, running a hand through his dark hair. “The way he talks, the way he looks at us… everything about him makes me want to hex him.”
“Then let’s do something about it,” James said, sitting up.
Peter looked hesitant. “You mean another prank?”
“Obviously,” James said, grinning. “We can’t let him think he’s getting to us.”
Remus frowned from his spot at the desk. “We should be careful,” he said. “If we’re too obvious, we’ll get caught.”
“Who said anything about obvious?” Sirius said, his grin matching James’s. “We’ve got the map now. We can plan something he’ll never see coming.”
James leaned forward, his eyes gleaming with excitement. “What if we use one of the secret passages? Something to trap him, maybe?”
“Or confuse him,” Peter suggested. “What if we set up something in the dungeons? He’d never expect us to go down there.”
Remus sighed but couldn’t help the small smile tugging at his lips. “Fine,” he said. “But if we’re going to do this, we’re going to do it properly. No half-baked plans.”
“Obviously,” Sirius said, clapping him on the back. “We wouldn’t dream of it.”
For the next hour, they brainstormed ideas, their excitement growing with each passing moment. By the time they finally called it a night, they had the rough outline of a plan: something involving a cleverly hidden trap in the Slytherin common room.
“Goodnight, future masterminds of chaos,” James said as he flopped onto his bed, clearly pleased with their progress.
Remus shook his head but couldn’t help the fond smile spreading across his face. As much as he worried about their antics, he couldn’t deny that these moments—the laughter, the camaraderie—were some of the best he’d ever known.