CHAPTER IX

“Are we sure this is safe?” Remus questioned as they were walking through the Forbidden forest, the sky a mix of orange and blue with the sun already steadily setting behind the horizon.

“Safe?” James laughed. “No. But good ideas rarely are.”

“How much longer?” Peter whined a little, kicking a stray branch aside. “Are we even sure  this is the right way? Maybe you took a wrong turn somewhere.”

Sirius glanced at him over his shoulder, not slowing down in the slightest.

“No one forced you to come,” he stated coldly, which silenced whatever complaints Peter seemed to have. Luckily for Peter, they arrived at their destination only a few minutes later, the trees around them turning to large, towering oaks.

The ground gave a violent shake under their feet and James' lips split into a grin.

“We’re in the right place!” he called out and Sirius nodded, while Peter paled as if finally fully realising the situation. He shifted from foot to foot, glancing rapidly between the trees.

“You want to do what?” Bokorova had demanded when James revealed his plan to her and Theo, her customary frown even deeper. “Are you serious? Why?”

“We just stole it from them, their most precious things.”

“So what? They should have guarded it better.”

“It’s not like you’re going to use it for anything,” James had argued and Bokorova stared at him for a moment longer, then crossed her arms, looking away.

“Fine. Whatever, I don’t want a reminder of being on team with Cinege anyways.”

The Beauxbatons champions had been quicker to agree.

“I also thought it strange,” Apolline Verville had said, smiling softly. “It’s a good idea, James. Thank you.”

Crouching down, James gently placed the three golden acorns on a large leaf to make them as visible as possible. It’d be a shame if they got crushed just because the giants failed to notice them.

Another set of tremors, this time closer. The tree next to them shook dangerously, a few leaves falling.

“Oh sweet Merlin,” Remus whispered, astonished, his voice high-pitched as the earth shook again. “We need to get going. We really really need to get going!”

James hummed in answer while he planted a little note next to the acorns, a piece of a scroll that simply says ‘SORRY’ in all capital letters, with a smiley face at the end. Now, James doubted these giants could actually read, but one never knows. It felt better than just throwing the acorns on the ground.

Sirius waited until James righted himself, then turned to Remus and Peter.

“Alright,” he said, nodding. “Now we get out of here.”

Peter sprinted away with such a speed that one would have ever believed he complained so much on the way there.

The Hogwarts students stayed visibly cheery for the next few days, riding high on victory and excitement. With the last Quidditch matches of the year so close, all the teams threw themselves back into rigorous drills and the students made excited bets and guesses about which team would win the upcoming game.  

It was on the second training session of that week when James was trying to pull on his jersey and had to grit his teeth together against the sudden burst of pain that flared up in his arm, a small hiss escaping past his lips.

The changing rooms were almost empty, with only Henry, their youngest player still lingering inside.

“Captain? Are you alright?” he blurted out, looking up from tying his shoelaces and James fought a sigh. He really had to notice didn’t he?

“It’s nothing,” he reassured with a smile, pulling edge of his clothes down properly. “Just an annoyance, it’ll go away on its own. Don’t worry about it.”

“An annoyance?” Henry echoed, blue eyes wide and bewildered.

“Exactly!” James pointed happily. “See? You get it.”

“That’s not –”

James patted him on the shoulder as he walked past. “Come on, the team is waiting.”

Still a little lost but too young and polite to openly question his captain, Henry followed him outside. They passed by a few of the players, James exchanging greetings while the kid trailed after him, staring with obvious concern and helplessness that James pretended not to see. He was so focused on it that as he walked to the centre of the pitch to set up for their training, that the words ‘Captain’ and ‘hurt’ registered a beat too late.

Slowly, he raised his eyes, then blanched when he met Sirius’s intense gaze.  Henry was standing next to him, not fully meeting his eyes and looking apologetic, yet also determined. James vowed to let him run an additional lap the next training for insubordination.

For a moment, they stared at each other, and then Sirius thrust his broom into the suddenly wide-eyed face of the player next to him and started walking, eyes dangerously narrowed. 

The expression on his face made James take equally long steps back as he quickly waved his hands in the air, a placating smile on his lips.

“Come on, Padfoot, little Henry is just exaggerating. It’s no problem for me to play.”

“When did it happen?” Sirius demanded, easily cutting off his excuses.  

James stopped backing away, feeling like it wasn’t really helping his case, then promptly regretted it when Sirius got closer, eyes blazing.

“The...night, before the task.”

“The tournament was four days ago.”

“Was it?“ James smiled. „That’s not even that long!”

Sirius gave him such an unimpressed look that the smile froze slightly on James’ lips, as if chastised for a moment, before he beamed again.

“Fine, fine. I’m so irresponsible and so on, I get it. I’ll just run to Pomfrey after training.”

“Now.”

“Hm?”

“We’ll go there now.” Sirius told him, grabbing a fistful of his clothes and dragging him forward with such strength that James stumbled the first few steps. As he hopelessly looked around, he swore he saw some of his players hide amused grins. In fact many of them didn’t seem to be hiding them at all. 

“Padfoot, mate, come on!“ James protested, “It’s not that big of a deal - I hardly feel it that’s why I forgot about it! It only hurts when I twist my arm like this -”

James tried to tug himself free, but the relentless grip on his jersey didn't lessen. If anything, it seemed to grow stronger.

Sirius’ grey eyes landed on him as he looked back over his shoulder, narrowed and dangerous.

James laughed a little, “Fine, fine. But you could at least let me go, you know. You don’t have to drag me all the way there.”

Sirius stopped for a moment, his gaze assessing, but face otherwise unreadable.

The rest of the team was already here. Surely they could go through at least some part of the training before he’d have to go, right? He  couldn’t just leave before the training even started, that would be a waste of everyone’s time and they needed all the practice they could get to beat Hufflepuff next week. It wasn’t like the shoulder is that much of a trouble, anyway.

Maybe he could even get out of  going to Pomfrey all together. If he managed to suppress that traitorous twitch before no one had to know. 

Sirius’ eyes turned shaper.

“No fucking way.” he said suddenly and before James could protest, his hand let go only to wrap around his wrist instead, jerking him forward.

“Ah come on, Padfoot! The training is about to start!”

“It’s really alright James!” shouted Lucas Alvarez, the traitor, and soon other voices joined him too, urging them to leave with 'Yes, we’ll manage!' and 'Go get better!' and 'Listen to Sirius!'

Screw having Henry run additional laps, James thought, I'm going to have all of them run until they drop. It was an empty threat, but it did make him feel better. 

“See?” Sirius glanced over his shoulder, “They can wait. I’d hope they have enough brain to survive for ten minutes without you and if they don’t, they have nothing to do on the team anyways.”

With an exaggerated sigh, James stopped dragging his feet and  himself to his fate of being pulled away.

When they got to the infirmary and James begrudgingly told Madam Pomfrey what happened, her face seemed to go through about five emotions at once. Then, she reached out with her hand and promptly delivered a soft smack to the back of James’ head.

“You're not supposed to enjoy that,” James complained to Sirius when he noticed him suppress a chuckle, pursing his lips. “I thought you wanted me to be unharmed but now you’re satisfied with my misery.”

“Don't underestimate me, ” Sirius said as he crossed his hands. “I can do both.”

Madam Pomfrey made a face that made it quite clear she was barely suppressing a long scolding, then gestured towards one of the empty beds.

“I could use my time so much better,” James grumbled as hopped up on it, batting Sirius‘ hand away when he tried to help. The healing draught that was pressed into his hand was still cold, tiny little droplets running down the sides of the glass and wetting his palm as the potion got warmer.

“I'm sure you could, dear,” Madam Pomfrey assured drily. „Now drink up.”

One day, a few weeks later, James made true on their promise and led Theo and his friends down the hills behind the school to visit the hippogriffs.

“There’s really more of them?” Yasen asked quietly, eyes shining with stunned excitement, like he still couldn’t believe it was true. From what James had gathered, he’d never seen a live hippogriff before.

“Yeah, the one we told you about - Professor Evergreen’s, Stromclaw - is always there, but when I talked about it to Hagrid, he adviced me to wait. Said the wild ones always visit right on the brink of winter.”

James hopped down a stone on the steep hill, balancing on it as he stopped and looked back over his shoulder. Yasen and Theo, close behind him, both trailed to a stop, Bogdan only a few paces behind, picking up a stray pebble. A few steps further up the path, Peter seemed to have gotten his leg stuck between two rocks and was wailing loudly whenever Remus pulled at his hands to get him out.

“I think I almost got it-” Remus was just saying, pulling again. It became quite clear he did not in fact get it, because Peter shrieked, not too unfamiliar to how he sounds in his animagus form, and stayed stuck.

Sirius was standing to the side, his hands crossed as he looked at them and James had to chuckle at the expression on his face. It was clear, even from the distance between them, that he was radiating with silent judgement.

“Is he...fine?” Theo asked, wincing a little as he looks at Peter.

“Oh yeah,” James assured him. “This kind of thing is normal.”

Remus had to have pulled harder than he seemed to expect because he suddenly yelped and triped backwards, ending on the ground. Theo blinked, and then suspiciously coughed into the sleeve of his robe, while James openly chuckled, shaking his head. Next to him, Bogdan measured Remus’ weak arms with a highly critical look.

“Wait-” Peter shrieked when Sirius moved in closer, grabbing his now empty hands. “Wait - I - I think you might be pulling in the wrong direction-”

“Be glad I’m pulling at all,” Sirius told him and yanked.

Peter flew forward and crushed into Remus who had just scrambled to his feet and with a doubled yelp, they ended up both sprawled on the ground again. 

Sirius didn’t spare them another glance and instead started walking down the hill, coming close just as James finally stopped snickering.

“I don’t even want to ask how Peter managed that, do I?” he asked as Sirius fell to step beside him.

“I don’t think he knows how he managed that,” Sirius remarked drily, shooting a look at Peter over his shoulder.

Hagrid welcomed them with a warm smile when they met him at the edge of the woods.

“Ah, it’s good to see yeh boys! I swear yeh keep growing and growing. And to think yeh’ve only been this tall when I first saw you.” He made a line from his hips to the side, his chuckle a loud rumble, like a wood cracking in a fire.

They still weren’t  even reaching his shoulders, even with Sirius’ height, but the fondness of the memory had them all smiling, except for Peter, who was still barely reaching past Hagrid’s side and was instead sulking.  

“This is Theo, Yasen and Bogdan.” James introduced them after they’ve exchanged their greetings, gesturing towards the three who had been standing slightly to the side, looking unsure. “The ones we told you about.”

“Ah yes,” Hagrid’s eyes seemed to twinkle with excitement as his smile widened. “Hello. It’s always nice to meet other people who appreciate magical creatures.”

“Thank you for allowing us to see them, sir,” Yasen said softly while Bogan gave a nod in acknowledgment.

“Yes, thank you.” Theo joined earnestly. “We don’t have any opportunities like this back at home so we’re very glad.”

Hearing his words, Hagrid’s brows pulled down into a frown.

“Yeh don’t?”

“No, sir.” answered Bogdan, his voice curt but sincere. “There are no classes about caring for magical beasts.”

“None?”

James understood his bewilderment, he had been surprised too when they mentioned it a few weeks ago. ‘They only teach us how to kill them.’ Yasen had said then, his lips trembling slightly, ‘Nothing else.’

At the twin shakes of their heads, Hagrid’s frown deepened.

“Blasted Durmstrang! Wat do they think a hippogriff might do? Bite yeh? Nonsense. Follow me, I’ll show you those beautiful majestic beasts, don’t yeh worry. And just call me Hagrid, everyone ‘ere does. No need for that fancy formalities, ey?”

He waved his large hand in the air and set out towards the trees, the group quickly following.

“Yeh can come to me whenever yeh want, I have plenty o’ interesting little things near me hut, no need to be afraid. Just tell young James or Sirius here, or come to knock on my door if yeh not shy, I don’t mind. Now, trust me the hippogriffs have better things to eat than scrawny Durmstrang boys, but I’ll tell yeh, once I met this fire slug that wouldn’t stop spitting at me...”

James felt his lips twitch up a little at the rapt attention with which the boys listened, Bogdan included, looking like they were hanging onto Hagrid’s every word.

The hippogriffs awere lazing in fallen leaves when they arrived, looking more like a flock of lambs than the ferocious beasts the books kept calling them. There were more than a dozen of them, their feathers all different shades of brown and grey. Even just lying on the ground, wings meticulously tucked around their bodies, the air around them seemed to echo with a degree of regality.

“There’s so many of them,” Peter remarked, his mouth falling slightly open as he gazed around. 

Hagrid beamed with pride.

“That’s right, young Pettigrew, and they are quite majestic, aren’t they? Now everyone who’s unsure how to handle them, come to me.”

The three Durmstrang boys eagerly came to his side, and after a moment of hesitation, Remus did too, saying he’d like to refresh his memory, while Peter wandered off to the side.

James used the opportunity to catch up with Sirius, who was standing further ahead at the edge of the meadow, quietly watching the hippogriffs.

The leaves rustled loudly under his feet as he stopped beside him, Sirius glancing at him with a small tilt to his lips before looking back.

There was no enclosure or a fold here, only a single rope strung low between two bordering trees. It was wrapped firmly around their trunks, the rest of the meadow flowing freely into the forest. It was clear it wasn’t there for the hippogriffs, but for Hagrid and other people who could happen to stumble upon them. The animals were well-known for being territorial and the rope served as a simple reminder: from there on, the land was theirs.

James looked at Sirius then, noting the way his whole face seemed to soften as he gazed at the animals before them and felt a pang somewhere near his heart. Shifting closer, he rested his elbow on Sirius’ shoulder, leaning his weight against him.

Behind them, he could still faintly hear Hagrid emphasising the importance of bowing, his voice more lowered and controlled than usual but still easily carrying over and rising above the soft rustle of the trees.

One of the hippogriffs closer to the edge lifted his head from his wing, shooting them a curious look, then looked down to continue with plucking out another one of his feathers.

Many of the leaves had already fallen to the ground, covering the grass of the meadow with golden and red flashes of colour, while some leaves were still stubbornly clinging to the branches above them. In a few days, the winter would come and they’d fall, but for now they were content, swinging in the wind.

A few stray leaves fell, gently twirling on their way down to the ground. James reached out to catch one, and it glided into the palm of his hand, then floated away as the wind picked up again. James let it, watching it fly with a small smile.

“Alright,” he said, shifting back. “How about we come in and say hi? They must be starved for some good company.”

Sirius nodded and moved to step on the rope to bring it further down, a half-smile on his face as he looked at him. “After you,” he said.

With a grin, James took a step over the rope. The leaves gave a loud crunch under his feet and immediately, two heads of the hippogriffs at the edge snapped up, piercing him with dark eyes, assessing him.

James excitedly bowed, his hair jumping slightly on his head with the sudden, rushed movement. From the corner of his eye, he could see Sirius do the same, though his bow was fluid and calm, unhurried. 

Typical Sirius, James thought fondly, always effortlessly graceful.

They righted themselves when the hippogriffs bent their necks in acknowledgment, and James didn't waste any time before moving in closer and stretching out his hand, his fingers gliding over the smooth feathers on top of the hippogriffs head. It felt impossibly soft, like running hand through clouds.

“Good work!” Hagrid hollered, far too loudly, his voice echoing around the meadow.

Luckily, the hippogriffs didn’t seem to mind. James guessed they were probably already used to Hagrid’s particular brand of loudness. Still, Hagrid seemed slightly sheepish, and lowered his voice when he spoke next. 

“You saw how it’s done, didn’t yeh? Now it’s your turn.”

He glanced around and then pushed onto Peter’s shoulder with a force that was probably meant to only be a nudge but that sent Peter three steps forward, his feet sliding across the grass. He stopped by the rope, then slowly raised his leg and set it down on the other side.

By the time the rest of the group made it across the rope and fully into the meadow, James was already sitting down on the grass, leaning back on one of his hands, the other petting a wing next to him.

Hagrid had already left half an hour ago, saying he had errands to run and would be back later. He sounded particularly regretful when he said so, since he had been discussing different dragon breeds with Yasen earlier, though how they even got to such a topic was a mystery to everyone but them.

“Thanks for taking us here,” Theo said as came to sit on the grass next to him, finally settling down after making rounds around the meadow. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen Yasen or Bogdan so happy. How did you even learn about this place? Did Hagrid tell you?”

“Yes and no,” James replied, leaning some more weight back on his hand. “Sirius and I, we like to explore this forest a lot, have since we were little kids. Hagrid found us nearby one day and said ‘What are you doing here, there’s a hippogriff nearby'.”

Sirius smirked at the memory, looking at them from where he was carding through the feathers on the back of Stormclaw’s neck.

“He quickly realised he shouldn’t have said that,” he said. “We were impossible to shake off after that. Persistent even as little brats.”

Theo laughed at that and James chuckled  remembering how much they had pestered Hagrid, always following him around whenever he went to the Forest until he told them.

“I think we’ve made him age ten years by that.”

“He still brought it onto himself, just blurting out there was a hippogriff here. What else were we supposed to do?”

“Was the forest forbidden even then?” Theo asked and James chuckled.

“Yeah, of course,” he looked up, meeting Sirius’ amused gaze. “That’s what made it so fun.”

Theo shook his head with a small chuckle. For a moment, they sat together, Sirius still petting Stormclaw, idly chatting. 

Soon enough, the rest of their little group joined them too, Sirius coming closer as well to sit down and finish their little lopsided circle.

“Are you going home for the holidays?” Remus asked when they got to the topic of the break and Christmas and Bogdan gave a serious nod.

“Yes. After the ball of Yule.”

Remus grimaced, as if biting into a fresh lemon.

“Right, almost forgot about that. What a fun idea.”

“It is a bit strange,” Bogdan agreed, though his face hardly betrayed if he thought that was a bad or good thing.

“I think it might be nice,” Peter said, then hunched a little when Remus shot him a look. “What? It might be! Right, James? Sirius?”

He gazed at both of them, hopeful, then wilted when Sirius shook his head from where he was propped up against an old tree trunk, another hippogriffs' head laying in his lap. He was petting the small feathers above his eyes with great attention and didn't even bother to lift his head in Peter’s direction when he answered.

“I’m not exactly squealing with joy either. It reminds me too much of those pureblood formal parties I had to attend as a kid. So many rules and stuck-up idiots there, even just thinking about it gives me chills.”

James understood that. He’d been lucky enough that his parents only made him go to a few of those gatherings before deciding it really wasn’t worth the effort, but the few memories he had of it were still not very pleasant.

The Yuleball wasn’t  precisely his idea of a fun winter day either. He’d much rather use the time to sit down and discuss the outs and ins of a new spell, sneak increasingly ridiculous snacks to the library, or have a repeat of that broom racing match he had against Sirius in their third year. 

Peter moved his gaze to him, expectant and hopeful as he leaned slightly forward on his knees.

James hummed a little, thinking.  

“With us there, I think we can make it work. Who could ever stop the Marauders when we are together, right? If we want to have fun, they can be damn sure we’ll find a way.”

Peter beamed and the corner of Remus’ lips lifted slightly as well, though he still looked a bit sceptical. James watched as he turned back to tearing apart the fallen leaves on the ground, splitting the one in his hand into smaller and smaller pieces.

From across them, Theo gave a quiet sigh.

“I just wish we didn’t have to perform the opening waltz. All that attention, I don’t think it’ll do any good...”

Right, James thought. Theo’s classmates seemed to hold a grudge against him, glaring at him and whispering whenever he was near. For a second, he was reminded of the day he went to ask Bokorova and Theo for the acorn, and the guarded look in Theo’s eyes when he stopped him before leaving to ask if he read Skeeter’s article in Prophet.

“You said opening waltz?” he asked instead, and Theo nodded, his eyebrows raising a little.

“You don’t know yet? The Headmaster told us yesterday. It’s a tradition that the champions pair up with someone to take part in the opening dance.”

He looked at Yasen then, the two boys exchanging a smile, a faint blush spreading across their cheeks.  It was clear that they were planning to go together, so James didn’t bother with asking.

“Is it mandatory?” he said instead and Theo gave a nod.

“Yeah, I think so.”

“Then it’s obvious,” James exclaimed, grinning widely. “Sirius will go with me!”

He was only joking, because even though he’d love that, he was also pretty sure Sirius would have more people asking him to go with them then he could ever count, not to mention that Sirius would hardly want to spend the night glued to his side – but then Sirius nodded and James almost choked on his own spit.

 “I will.” Sirius said, and the air stuttered in James’ lungs, his grin minutely faltering as blood rushed into his ears. What?  

He quickly laughed, waving his hands in the air. “O-of course you will, we champions must stick together, right? It only makes sense! The Goblet made us a team so we should stay as a team.”

Sirius only glanced at him, face unreadable, then turned his attention back to petting the hippogriff. James looked away, ignoring the way all three Durmstrang students were staring at them, looking confused, and instead launched into talking about the upcoming exam. 

Peter quickly joined, blissfully oblivious to what just happened, and started complaining about his Transfiguration essay.

When Hagrid came to gather them from his errands in the woods, Remus’ stomach growled so loudly it seemed to echo around the trees, prompting them into a round of laughter.

Sirius got up last, giving the hippogriff a soft scratch on the head. The hippogriff made a sound that was almost a purr, closing his eyes.

“We can’t take one home, right?” Sirius remarked gravely, and James’ brain trips a little on the world home, and at the look on Sirius’ face as his fingers graze the hippogriff’s feathers.

“Are you going?” Peter called out to them, and James startled a little.

“Yeah,” he shouted back, clearing his throat. “Of course.”

With the impending threat of the upcoming exams, the excitement about the Tournament and upcoming winter break slowly waned into quiet despair. Griffindor managed to win their Quidditch match, yet there wasn’t much time for celebrations.

The professors didn’t hesitate to demand essay after essay, piling up more and more homework even as the first snowflakes started to fall. The snow soon started to fall above the green hills, covering them and making them shimmer ever so slightly as the last weak sun rays landed on them.

James pulled on the collar of his sweater, bringing the material closer in a vain attempt to warm himself up.

Professor McGonagall had taken to opening the windows on her morning lectures, saying it would do them good, and while James was never the one to say no to some fresh air, sitting close to the windows was proving to be a bit of a strategic mistake.

“Don’t forget to copy all of it,” Professor McGonagall reminded them, the chair screeching slightly as she dragged it across the stone floor to sit down at her table. “Any part of the Seven Transfiguration methods can appear on the test.”

No one sighed, but the sound of it was almost tangible in the air.

James angled his head to look around, gaze passing over the burrowed heads of his classmates. The recent lessons have involved much more theory and less practice than most of them would prefer, as it tended to be with the exams closing in. It also meant, inevitably, that James grew incredibly bored.

Magical theory was fine, some of it highly interesting even, but for the past few weeks, they had done nothing but go over the lessons that they had already covered and it was getting suffocating.

James fought  the urge to stick his head out of the window and instead twirled the quill in his hand.

From a few desks over, Lily Evans glanced at him from the corner of her eye, full of disapproval. James gave her an innocent grin and turned to Sirius, who had been doing nothing to hide the fact he had been doodling on his scroll for the past ten minutes, one of his legs bent up on the chair in a way that had McGonagall chastise him whenever she saw it.

James leaned a little closer to peek at what he was drawing and Sirius noticed, shooting him a look before angling the paper closer to himself, his elbow pushed to the side, hiding whatever he was doing out of James’ sight.

James tugged at the sleeve of his robe to drag his hand away and get a better look, but the hand didn't move no matter how hard he tried.

With a pout, James raised his eyes to meet Sirius’ amused gaze, noting the faint smirk playing on his lips.

“Let me see,” James mouthed and when Sirius only looked at him, he tugged again, eyes lighting up with victory when it finally worked.

Sirius’ artwork has always been his favourite, the way the lines intertwine with each other so elegantly, yet each stroke filled with something wild, a little untamed. He felt the same feeling now as he looked at the drawings. The Whomping Willow with its branches swaying in the wind and under it, at the bottom corner of the scroll, an ink dog chasing a stag.

James was smiling before he even fully realised it.

“Pretty,” he whispered, admiring the drawing, while Sirius glanced away.

After a moment James reached out to dip his own quill in the ink. He pressed the quill against his mouth, lips pursed in thought, then set it against his paper.

Slowly, stick figures of Snape and Crouch emerged, standing side by side, both with matching frowns on their faces. From the corner of his eye, he could see as Sirius turned back, looking down with interest.

‘The Plan’ James wrote with bold letters and several exclamation marks above the figures, then started to draw in the details. An invisibility cloak. A large pot of a scolding hot sauce.

He had to almost bite down onto his lips as he drew the final, most important component. A chicken on Snape’s head.

Sirius choked on a chuckle and James grinned.

“Mr. Potter,” Professor McGonagall called out, scandalised, already rising from her seat. “What are you doing? Are you even writing? Give it here.”

James looked her straight into eyes and stuffed the page into his mouth.

The exams came and Remus returned to always murmuring crammed knowledge in his sleep. James didn’t consider himself a particularly light sleeper, but he had to take to putting up silencing charms around his bed whenever his talking got too loud to tolerate. All that mumbling combined with Peter’s snoring was proving to be quite the challenge.

They did end up pranking the two annoying Slytherins during the exams as well, multiple times actually, though James’ favourite prank ended up being the one when they enchanted their goblets to spit their drinks back at them. If he closes his eyes, he swore he could still hear Snape’s shrill screams and see the image of Barty Crouch looking like a wet cat after he got mad and screamed, and the drink screamed back promptly dumping all its contents on him in one large wave. It was an indescribable sight.

To his absolute glee, Sirius kept smirking about it whenever he glanced toward the Slytherin table during the meals for three days straight.

Time passed by at a rapid pace, as it always seemed to do during exams. Soon enough, they've managed to survive tests, except for Transfiguration, which was set for tomorrow's morning. James preferred thinking about that than the upcoming Yuleball. He still wasn’t sure how to feel about it, so he steadily pushed any thoughts about the whole event away and out of his mind.

 “Gentlemen,” Professor Slughorn chided gently. “Less daydreaming and more cleaning, we don’t have all night.”

“Of course, sir.” Remus nodded politely, scrubbing at his cauldron with a renewed vigour. As soon as Slughorn’s back was turned though, he met James’ gaze and shook his head a little, an exasperated expression on his face. With a smirk, James let out a huff of breath and moved to continue with the rest of his equipment.

The amount of dirty cauldrons, slippery vials, mortars and pestles they were ordered to clean resembled more a dragons’ hoard with the amount, rather than only one classroom’s items. So many of them were so dirty James had to wonder if any of the younger students washed their equipment at all.

“Right, before I forget!” Slughorn turned around, palm smacking against his forehead. “Wait a minute!”

With that he disappeared to his office, strange sounds of metal clinking together and things falling down echoing from behind the door before he was back again, his arms so full only half of his face peaked above it. 

“Since you’re already at it, I’m sure you won’t mind, right?” he inquired with a smile, and put all his filthy things right on top of their little mountain of garbage, not waiting for an answer.

James stared at it for a moment, his hold on the sponge in his hands slacking. Surely Slughorn must have seen that was too much? And why did it look like the purple mould in that one vial was moving?

A quick look at Slughorn only confirmed his worst fears, Slughorn was already happily humming, moving back to his office. From the quiet snores they’ve heard earlier that evening and many previous experiences, James was more than sure that he was going back for a nap.

Remus let out a long defeated sigh. The sleeves of his shirt were drenched with water more than halfway up, the ends smudged dark, but he still made an attempt to pull them up.

 “Can you believe him?” James exclaimed and Remus shook his head again, looking up as he picks up a ladle.

“Let’s just get on with it.”

He returned back to scrubbing and James watched him for a moment, then reached out for the two-way mirror he’d set on the table earlier when Slughorn re-entered the classroom, fingers wrapping around the edges.

 “Sirius Black,” he said the two words that made up half of his life and watched as the surface of the mirror rippled.

Soon enough, he was met with the silvery grey of Sirius’ eyes staring right back at him.

“Hey,” James grinned and prompted the mirror up by one of the cauldrons in front of him, then leaned his elbow against the desk. “So newsflash, Mr. Slug is once again piling up his own things on us.”

“Is he making you grade papers again?” Sirius asked, the edge of his mouth pulled into a smirk. 

“No, that would at least be fun. Instead he piled up even his personal things for us to scrub. This is an abuse of power, I’m telling you.”

In the mirror, Peter’s blond hair tried to make its way into the view, but Sirius’ hand lazily moved up, pushing his head away.

James chuckled as he pulled on the rolled-up sleeves of his red jumper to make sure they stayed up, then reached out for another of those cursed cauldrons to clean. They’d been here for about two hours now, yet the pile didn’t seem to be getting any smaller.

“Anyways,” he said, scrubbing at a particularly nasty spot made of charred slime, “How’s it going at your end?”

A pause; then.  

“Wormtail won’t stop chatting at me about nonsense.”

“I’m sorry!” Peter’s voice filtered through the mirror, fainter but still clearly audible. “I’m just bored.”

 “I keep chatting at you about nonsense,” James teased, grinning, “Yet you like it.”

“Not nonsense,” Sirius refuted, silver eyes meeting his. “And he’s not you.”

 “Right,” James laughed, the sound a little higher than usual even to his own ears. “Obviously. How much work do you have left?”

A soft hum as Sirius tilted his head in thought, black hair falling gracefully around his face.

“About twenty minutes.”

Too late, James realised he’d been staring again and averted his eyes. From across him, Remus gave an amused chuckle.

James threw his sponge at him, revelling in the loud, wet sound it made as it connected with his head.  

“Was that Remus?” Sirius asked.

“Yeah.”

“Nice shot.”

By the time all the cauldrons were clean, James felt like his hands were ready to fall off. Slughorn had decided to mercifully return to keep them company about an hour ago and kept talking since then, hindering any further conversation through the mirrors. Slughorn, oblivious to how much neither of them wanted him in the room, kept going about his Slug club, not so covertly bragging and hinting he’d love for Sirius to reconsider his offer to join.

Remus kept nodding with politeness, all while shooting James highly doubtful glances whenever Slughorn turned his back to him.  

“I had so many great students, you can’t even imagine it,” Slughorn stated proudly, his chin pointed high. “So many brilliant minds and all in my little collection, able to do things those ordinary muggles would never even dream of. No need to look so doubtful! I once had a student who could bind a lightning to a bottle! Brew the most lethal poison! One had even wanted to –”

He stopped himself then, suddenly looking like he'd rather he didn’t start that train of thought at all. “I, uh, I believe I kept you long enough. Everything is clean, so you’re free to go now. Good, good night.”

A moment later, the door to his office fell shut.

James lifted his brow as he turned to Remus, who shrugged. They walked briskly to their dorm, eager to slide to warm beds after being in the cold of the underground for so long, especially with their hands wet all the time.

The halls were empty, which was no surprise. The curfew had already started hours ago, which was quite ironic in James’ opinion. If Professor McGonagall learned of this, Slughorn would be in for quite the scolding. The thought brought a small smile to his face as they walked up the Grand Staircase.

The lights were completely snuffed out on the second floor, save for the torch right by the stairs. It was strange enough that James halts, Remus almost barrelling onto him by accident.

“What?” he asked loudly, bewildered.

“Quiet!” came a muffled shout from one of the portraits somewhere in the corridor. “I’m sleeping you understand? Slee-ping! I don’t want any of you noisy Merlin-forsaken troublemakers here.”

He was so loud that some of the portraits nearby on the staircase stirred in their sleep, and a woman in a long blood-red dress on one of them even lifted an eyelid, revealing a bright emerald eye blazing with flames.

“You’re the one that’s noisy,” James told him drily, stepping into the hallway only to startle when realised he just stepped into something. Something, wet .

A loud squelch  sounded, as he took another step.

The hallway was too dark to see.  

James reached to his waist, tugging out his wand. With a quick swish of his wrist, a white light spread around, dimly illuminating the space around him.

There was...water. The whole left side of the corridor was flooded with it, the light of his Lumos charm reflecting eerily on the surface. At the edge of the sphere of light, he could see a torch, lying drowned in the water.

“What is it?” Remus called out from the stairs, the echo of his steps faltering as he came in closer. “Water?” he gasped. 

“I said quiet!” protested the same portrait as before, but they both ignored it.

Remus brandished his own wand, his eyes tracking across the hall. “It looks like...it’s still spreading.”

James squinted his eyes. The darkness made it hard to see, but there did seem to be a weak current to the water surface. A pull. In the silence, his ears picked up a faint sound.

“It’s coming from the back,” James told him and moved towards the sound. Soon, their shoes were drenched, the water rippling as they walked, the only light their wands.

Further back, the door to the girls’ lavatory was slightly a jar, water leaking through. A dark figure stood in the middle of the corridor, their back to them.   

“Hey,” James called out, but the figure didn't move.

“I’m a prefect,” Remus tried next. “Did you flood this hallway?”

No answer. The water continued to leak. James felt an overwhelming sense of wrongness borrow deeper into his gut.

Drawing his wand back, he flicked it once, then again, casting the higher version of the lighting charm, and a burst of bright light ran from the tip of his wand to all sides, illuminating the dark hall.

It was so bright Remus had to shield his eyes for a moment and James blinked a few times, trying to get used to the sudden change, yet the person didn't even flinch. There was no movement at all except for the sway of their school robe in the shallow water at their feet.

There was a frown between James’ brows as he walked around them to look at their face, Remus worryingly looking on from behind.

The cold, unmoving eyes of Dirk Cresswell stared at the ground, his face frozen in a mask of pure fear.

“Cresswell?” James called out, then shook him slightly when he didn't get any answer. Creswell barely moved, his body heavy and completely unresponsive.

James whipped his head around, eyes flitting across the empty space behind them as he realises that whoever did this, could still be around. They could even be using Cresswell as a bait, waiting, biding time in the shadows around to strike.

Another burst of light emerged from his wand, this time flying across the whole length of the hall. The hall grew darker again, the only sounds the running water and their breaths.

James slightly loosened his grip on his wand, but didn't put it away. He glanced away from the dark corridor, back at frozen Cresswell, then stills as his eyes moved past Cresswell’s head, a shiver running up his spine.

There was a message on the wall, the letters still dripping with blood. ‘The Chamber of Secrets has been opened. Enemies of the heir, beware.’

There wasn’t even a sliver of possibility that this could be just a spell gone wrong or a mishap then, James thought darkly, eyes flitting carefully across the wall. The letters were all strange, written meticulously, yet the edges of it are unsure, full of mistakes. The last word was slanted to the side, written with none of the previous care from before.

The blood dripping from the words looked too fresh as well, James noted. Whatever happened, it wasn’t that long ago.

Not wasting any more time, James reached out to check Cresswell’s pulse, then let out a relieved breath.

"He’s alive,” he said, then turned his head over his shoulder to meet Remus’ wide eyes. “Go get Professor McGonagall. Now.”

“Y-yeah. Yeah, you’re right.”

The sound of his steps echoed around the hall, then filtered out to nothing.