December Dungbombs
December 21st, 1971
Their names were bouncing around the halls of Hogwarts and Remus wanted nothing more than to stay in the dormitory forever. He didn’t like the eyes digging through his skin and following his every movement or when random children he didn't even know asked him about ‘the great robe swap’.
“Cheer up, Loony,” they’d tell him as he grumbled about the latest kid that eagerly asked him what seemed like millions of questions during Charms class. As much as Remus hated the stares and adoring looks he received in the hallways, the rest of his friends were basking in it. They grinned at the excited children and told them exaggerated stories about their heroics and grand planning for the thing. “I’m bored,” Sirius said as he laid upside down on the armchair with his black curls
brushing the floor.
James sat beside him, his legs tapping furiously onto the wooden floor. Remus closed his eyes at the pattering noise ringing in his ears. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. The noise pounded in his ears like daggers and made his head ache. “Yeah, It’s been a long time since we’ve done something fun.”
“Yeah, we really haven’t.” The raven-haired boy perked up. “Do you think we should plan something?”
“We were at the quidditch pitch with Marlene yesterday,” Remus protested with a sigh. “Remember?”
But they couldn’t hear him anymore. The raven-haired boy’s face was already lit up with all of the stars and the olive-skinned boy was sporting that familiar James Potter grin. “We should definitely plan something.”
“But what could we possibly do?”
“We could change their hair colour,” James suggested.
Remus sighed, remembering his green hair on Christmas morning. Even though he didn’t like the attention pranks brought with them, he couldn’t bear watching them copy a prank from those snakes. “Unoriginal.”
“We could lock them in their dorms?”
“And let them miss classes? That’s basically a free day.” The chestnut-haired boy snorted. “Save it for the quidditch match, Potter.”
Then his eyes snapped towards Remus. “Just when I thought you couldn’t be more of a genius. I’m definitely adding it to my calendar.”
He stared out the window towards the big quidditch fields with wonder. Even though he couldn’t be a member in his first year—his attempts to surprise the quidditch captain with his impressive talents had failed quite miserably—it hadn’t stopped him from bringing up the stupid game every day.
“James!” The raven-haired boy nudged him, bringing him out of his probably quidditch related stupor. “The prank!”
“Oh, right.” He blinked and pushed his glasses further up his nose. “We could replace their beds with brooms?”
“That’s the most idiotic idea I’ve ever heard.”
“What about dungbombs?” Peter asked. The boy laid across the maroon couch behind them, flipping through a copy of ‘Witch Weekly.’ Anytime they’d asked he said it was for the irony, but by the third week nobody believed him anymore.
“What’s a dungbomb?” he asked.
“Oh, Loony.” Sirius feigned an exasperated sigh. “You don’t know what you’re getting yourself into.”
“That isn’t an answer,” he pressed.
When he turned to James, he was sporting a large grin, almost rivalling his quidditch grin. “A dungbomb is only one of the best pranking devices that was ever invented in the history of wizard kind!”
“It’s a bomb; but instead of killing people it kills their noses, cause the smell is so bad,” Peter said.
“How are we even going to get them?”
“I hear Gid and Fab have a stash,” James said, a wicked grin on his face. Only in their first months at Hogwarts, Sirius and James seemed to know everyone. From the self-absorbed Lockhart to the two red haired boys whizzing across the field with their twin brooms.
“What can we help you with today, lads?” one of them asked with a grin.
Sirius returned their grin. “A little birdie told me you have a stash of dungbombs.”
“Depends who’s asking,” the other boy said, dismounting his broom with a jump.The two boys looked identical, from their bright blue eyes to their brilliant red hair. He wouldn’t be able to tell them apart if they switched places.
The two grinned at the red haired boys. “It's secret business.”
“Secret business, eh?”
“Yep,” Sirius said.
He raised an eyebrow, his lips rising in a smile. “Sure it has nothing to do with a certain wretched Slytherin?”
The raven-haired boy looked at them with an expression that was almost business-like; but he could see the grin spilling through. “Revenge is very noble business.”
Gideon nodded almost solemnly. “It is indeed.”
“Are you going to tell us where it is, then?” Peter asked.
“I’m afraid you’ll have to say the secret password first,” Fabian said.
“What is it?”
“You must say the words,” he paused, probably for dramatic effect. “I solemnly swear that I am up to no good.”
Fighting the urge to roll his eyes, he said the stupid password because he knew the red-haired boys wouldn’t let them through without it.
And then as if he couldn’t take it anymore, Fabian burst into a wide grin. “They’re in the back of the broom closet, camouflaged behind some old quaffles we never use.”
Sirius looked ecstatic. “Perfect.”
And sure enough, as they opened the wooden door to the cramped quidditch locker, behind the dusty brooms and quaffles, they found five big green bomb-like balls. James hoisted them under the cloak as they made their way back to the common room.
Peter hadn’t stopped sneezing until they’d finally reached the dormitory. Apparently he was allergic to dust.
“You should go to Pomfrey.” He looked awkwardly between the hacking and wheezing Peter and the other two boys. He reminded Remus of the coffee machine. Secretly, he didn’t understand why the blonde boy would go to Pomfrey for only an allergy. But then again, it wasn’t as if she was charging them for her service.
He coughed again. “Nah. I gotta stay here for this.”
“We need a game plan,” James decided.
“What kind of game plan do we even need?” the raven-haired boy asked. “We just need to drop the dungbombs near the Slytherin common room. It can’t be that hard.”
Remus thought back to the first days at the wizard school, as he jotted down each room and nook that he found. The rooms hidden behind portraits and tapestries. He remembered the small notebook placed in the drawer of his room, revealing a map with the different passageways. “I might have something that could help us.”
And soon enough, he was sitting on the floor of the dormitory with the leather bound notebook, a miniature map drawn on its pages and three friends crowding around him.
“Loony, it's beautiful.”
For some reason, the words made his cheeks heat. “It’s just a sketch.”
“Just a sketch?” Peter said between coughs. “We could do anything with this! We would be unstoppable!”
“Why didn’t you show us before?” James asked, suddenly looking a bit offended.
“It wasn’t ready,” he mumbled.
“Who bloody cares if it’s ready?” the raven-haired boy asked. “It’s brilliant!”
That night, the four boys crept down the dark hallways, down the many stairs, to the corridor near the dungeons. They were all cramped under the thin invisibility cloak, invisible to those around. He could hear each of their heartbeats thumping from beside him.
“We should stay away from Slughorn’s office, he’ll have our heads if he wakes up to a smelly office,” Peter whispered.
Remus could practically see Sirius’s mischievous grin from the darkness. “What’s the fun in that?”
“Yeah,” James agreed. “You gotta loosen up, Petie.”
“At least he has some common sense,” the chestnut haired boy muttered.
“C’mon Loony,” Sirius said, dragging them towards the old man’s office. He regretted showing them that map. “You know you want to.”
“Fine.” In his defence, the chestnut-haired boy tried his best to conceal his grin.
☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆
The next morning, the four friends woke up early. After James’s run, they put on their robes and headed towards the Great Hall. Halloween was over, and Christmas decorations were already set up.
Excitement was building up in his chest at the thought of the horrid-smelling Slytherins, even if that meant he would smell them more than the rest would, due to him being a stupid werewolf with stupid heightened senses.
But that wasn’t important. Not then, anyway. The most important thing about that morning was to watch their prank in action. He didn’t know why the silly wizard pranks made him so excited; why they ignited that buzz of electricity thrumming in his veins. He didn’t know why he was grinning from ear to ear. It was just stupid wizard stuff, after all.
“Do you reckon Slughorn is going to come for breakfast today?” the raven-haired boy asked. His heartbeat was rising and excitement filled his normally gleeful voice.
“I hope he does,” Peter said.
Remus scanned the teachers table until he saw the plump old man taking his seat near the stern woman with the black bun.
She scrunched her nose at the man. “Have you had something bad to eat? Perhaps you spilled a potion? You do smell quite rotten.”
The chestnut haired boy doubled over with laughter at her statement, almost dropping the bacon from his fork.
“What is it?” Sirius asked curiously.
He blinked, forgetting that the other boys couldn’t hear as far as he could. “Just thinking about Mulciber and Snape, walking in with that lousy smell.”
“I told you you’ll love it,” the boy exclaimed. “It’s going to be brilliant.”
It was bad enough inside the bomb, he thought to himself. He wondered if they could also smell the godawful scent wafting off of the enclosed ball.
When Mulciber and the other Slytherins walked into the Great Hall, a stench that not even the delicious food could counter flooded through the corridor. At first it was just him, taking a deep breath and pinching his nose. But then the other students began noticing it as it spread, also shielding their nostrils from the fumes.
The brown boy’s face was positively red as one of the teachers commented on his ghastly odour. Despite the smell, and the headache that was seeping in because of the fumes, a laugh bubbled out of him. A giddy, excited laugh.
“This really is brilliant,” he said, staring in wonder as the other kids backed away from the green table to avoid the stench. Even Lily was backing away from a fuming Snape as he grumbled about something even he couldn’t hear beyond the loud chatter and furious complaint.
And at that moment, he didn’t care about the chatter and how it hurt his ears. He didn’t care about the horrid smell or the headache or anything else for that matter. He just laughed; because he was planning stupid wizard pranks with his stupid map and stupid friends and yet he was sure that he would remember that day forever.