Marauders
Remus is already exhausted by the time they make it to the cafe, about an hour before the band is scheduled to start. Just the planning alone, and “planning” is a generous word, exhausted him. It was basically a reboot of when they went drinking, ridiculous idea after ridiculous idea, Remus shooting them down one by one until they landed on something plausible. And to add to that, his leg his acting up—probably from the stress—and his cane isn’t helping much. To make a bleak situation at least a touch better, though, none of the crew blinked an eye when he pulled out and de-collapsed his cane, which was nice. He’d never had to use it in front of them before, and he was a little worried that they, who turned everything into a joke, would make a big deal of it. But that concern was apparently unfounded.
Had Remus not been there during the planning, though, the plan would have gone something like this. James gets into a brawl with Reggie. Sirius rushes to the back to drug them. The cops are called on James, and he gets thrown into jail. If Sirius is got drugging them, he also gets thrown in, and if charges are pressed against them… well, it wouldn’t have ended well. And that’s not even considering what would have happened had Remus not been there when they went drinking. James seemed to think that they could have gotten away from robbery. Remus is loathe to imagine what life experiences the three of them had shared to make them think that any of these ideas they’d come up with were any good. What had they gotten away with in the past that led them to believe they were so invincible?
Regardless, Remus brought them back down to earth through no small amount of effort on his part.
The four of them split up once they enter the cafe, disappearing to their separate places. Peter finds a place to hide out backstage, James finds a booth near the bar, tucking himself into the far corner near the window so that he can’t be seen unless someone is right in front of the booth. Sirius sits right at the bar and orders a drink. Remus finds a table out in the open.
And then they wait.
Remus’ task in this whole ordeal is that of lookout. He’s seated in a prime position for watching just about everything that’s about to go down, except for Peter’s bit of the plan. He’s on his own, tucked away backstage where Remus can’t see him.
The band enters through the back, an entrance behind the stage, and Remus can hear them starting to get their instruments out, along with some muted conversation. They’re much quieter then Sirius and his band. Just as Sirius predicted, two band members slip through the curtains, hopping off the stage. Rosier and Crouch, Sirius said they were. One of them is lanky and blonde, thinner then can be healthy. The other is a little shorter, not quiet as thin, with dark hair and a sour looking face, like he’s about two steps away from calling someone a slur. Even his smile looks mean.
The two head towards the bar, where Sirius immediately engages them in conversation while they get their drinks.
Remus watches James slip out of his both. He’s doing a god-awful job of not looking suspicious in his black hoodie pulled up over his head to conceal his identity, but somehow no one calls him out. He sits a couple seats away from the other three, and, as soon as he has an opening, he essentially roofies them before slipping away back to his booth.
Remus realizes just as Crouch is taking his first sip what an awful idea all of this is. He should probably intervene and stop this all right now, but he can’t bring himself too. He doesn’t want to bring attention to his own involvement, and, just like Lily said, he doesn’t want to get James in trouble. Most of this was Sirius’ doing, but Remus can’t bring Sirius down without taking James and Peter down with him.
Sirius dismisses himself and comes to sit across from Remus with a shit-eating grin on his face.
“And that’s how it’s done.” He says as he plops himself down across from Remus, kicking his feet up on one of the vacant seats. “Now to wait and see if Peter can play his part…”
Speak of the devil, there comes Peter emerging between from the curtain of the stage. His grin isn’t quiet as confident as the one Sirius wears—a little more nervous—but it conveys a job well done regardless. He also takes a seat at their table, on the only chair available with Sirius taking up two.
Sirius shoots a text to James, and then James is at their table, too, shoving Sirius’ feet to the floor to make room. Sirius places his feet right on James’ lap as soon as he’s seated.
And then they wait.
About thirty minutes later, just in time for the drugs to have had some time to kick in, the curtains are pulled open, revealing the band all set up. Sirius and James are immediately giggling. The Benadryl is doing its work, and it’s very obvious. There are sluggish eyes among the band, slow moving limbs. Only Reggie looks fully conscious, and mildly concerned. James and Sirius are hissing at each other to shut up, but they erupt into a fresh bout of giggles every time they meet each others eyes or glance at the band.
Remus groans internally, but keeps his face neutral. The act themselves isn’t what’s going to get them found out, these giggling bastards are. Anyone could see that they were up to something, even with Remus and Peter managing to stay calm. Remus kicks Sirius under the table, shooting him a glare. That shuts him up, and James, too. Sirius’ giggles fade into a cock-sure grin. It’s at least less suspicious, although Remus finds it infinitely more obnoxious.
The band begins their set, and if it wasn’t clear already, their plan was working exactly as intended.
Crouch, on drums, hits maybe half of his notes on time. The other half are either wildly off, or missed completely. Rosiers hand keeps slipping off his guitar while he strums, sending sour chords through the cafe. His other hand is making a mess of the fretboard. Lovegood is slurring her way through the song. It sounds like she’s speaking a different language at times. Only the bassist is consistent.
Remus can’t help himself from smiling. It’s quite the scene.
And if Remus is smiling, it’s no wonder that the rest of the group has lost all composure. Peter is the only calm one of the group, now. There’s no amount of kicking under the table that will halt Sirius’ and James’ laughter now, although Remus certainly gives it his all. It doesn’t matter now, though. Reggie has already caught sight of their table, the only laughing group among a cafe of cringing people. HIs face is blank, not betraying a single emotion as he sets his bass down. The band keeps stumbling through their song as Reggie hops off the stage and marches towards their table. Sirius stands to greet him, smiling wide.
It’s only when he’s a couple feet away from Sirius that Reggie’s face shows any emotion at all, his features contorting into what Remus can only describe as hellish fury.
“Hello Regulus.” Sirius says rather cheerfully, with a little wave for good measure. “Great show, as usual.”
Reggie—Regulus—glares at Sirius. He’s a couple inches shorter, but the look on his face makes him seem giant. Sirius just smirks at him, completely unfazed.
“You.” Regulus spits.
Remus takes another step back, not liking the energy here one bit. He’d thought this was some playful prank, something Regulus would find funny. It’s why he’d felt a little better about this whole thing upon finding out that the two were related. Clearly the relationship between the two brothers was different from what Remus had assumed.
“Me.” Sirius says cheerfully.
“I should known you were up to something when I saw you and your… your… your band of marauders.” He sounds like a villain from Scooby-doo, is all Remus can think, with their you meddling kids at the end of every episode. It would be funny if Regulus wasn’t so terrifying.
Sirius doesn’t seem to think it’s terrifying, though, and laughs outright at his brothers rage.
Sirius bends over with laughter, absolutely cackling. “You sound like a cartoon villain!” He guffaws, echoing Remus’ thoughts exactly. “Marauders, god, what dictionary did you pull that one out of?” Remus wishes Sirius would just shut up and apologize already before Regulus called the cops on them or something.
Regulus flushes, but his embarrassment seems to only fuel his anger.
He glares, his silence worse then his words, before turning on his heel and storming out. Remus would much rather he keep yelling. Him leaving only makes Remus think that he isn’t done, that he’ll be getting back at them, and Remus would like nothing less then to see that happen.
Sirius is still laughing, and when he turns back to the group, he looks as though this couldn’t have possibly gone any better then it just did.
“Drinks on me!” He announces, leading the way out of the building, laughing the whole way.