liars

Remus
Monday, September 24, 2:55 p.m.
A sex tape. A pregnancy scare. Two cheating scandals. And that’s just this week’s update. If all you knew of Hogwarts High was Severus Snape’s gossip app, you’d wonder how anyone found time to go to class.
“Old news, Lupin,” says a voice over my shoulder. “Wait till you see tomorrow’s post.”

Damn. I hate getting caught reading Prophet, especially by its slimy creator. I lower my phone and slam my locker shut. “Whose lives are you ruining next, Severus?”
Severus follows me as he leans in over my shoulder trying to talk to me. “It’s a public service,” he says with a dismissive wave. “You tutor Gilderoy Lockhart, don’t you? Wouldn’t you rather know he has a camera in his bedroom?”
I don’t bother answering. Me getting anywhere near the bedroom of that self absorbed show off is about as likely as Severus growing a conscience or having a chance with Lily Evans.
“Anyway, they bring it on themselves. If people didn’t lie and cheat, I’d be out of business.” Severus’s cold brown eyes take in my lengthening strides. “Where are you rushing off to? Some poor student to tutor?”
I fucking wish.

“Not exactly,” I say. As a general rule, and especially after last summer, I try to give Severus as little information as possible. We push through red metal doors to the back stairwell, a dividing line between the dinginess of the original Hogwarts High and its bright, airy new wing.

Severus is still on my heels when I reach Ms. McGonagall’s lab on the third floor, and I half turn, rolling my eyes. “Don’t you have someplace to be?”
“Yeah. Detention,” Severus says, and waits for me to keep walking. When I grasp the knob instead, he bursts out laughing. “You’re kidding me. You too? What’s your crime?”
“Fuck off,” I mutter, and yank the door open. Three other students are already seated, and I pause to take them in. Not the group I would have predicted. Except one.
Sirius Black tips his chair back and smirks at me. “You make a wrong turn? This is detention, not a study group.”

He should know. Sirius’s been in trouble since he left his family a few months ago. The gossip mill tells me he’s on probation with Hogmeade’s finest for ... something. It might be a DUI; it might be drug dealing. He’s a notorious supplier, as I know from my supplier.

“Save the commentary.” Mr. Slughorn checks something off on a clipboard and closes the door behind Severus. High arched windows lining the back wall send triangles of afternoon sun splashing across the floor, and faint sounds of football practice float from the field behind the parking lot below.
I take a seat as James Potter, who’s palming a crumpled piece of paper like a football, whispers “Heads up, Pads” and tosses it toward Sirius who bats it away with a chuckle. Regulus Black rolls his eyes across the classroom, his gaze looking as bored and disdainful as always.

The classroom clock inches toward three, and I follow its progress, wondering how the hell this group all got detentions at the same time.

Mr. Slughorn isn’t the brightest teacher so maybe there’s still time to change his mind. I clear my throat and start to raise my hand until I notice Sirius’s smirk broadening. “Mr. Slughorn, that wasn’t my phone you found. I don’t know how it got into my bag. This is mine,” I say, brandishing my iPhone in its battered old case.

Honestly, you’d have to be slow to bring a phone to Mr. Slughorn’s lab. He has a strict no-phone policy and spends the first ten minutes of every class rooting through backpacks like he’s head of airline security and we’re all on the watch list. He is seriously old fashioned and sees bringing your phone as a sign of disrespect. My phone was in my locker, like always.
“You too?” Regulus turns to me for the first time, looking mildly interested.

“Me three,” James chimes in. He and Sirius exchange surprised looks, and I wonder how this is news to them when they’re literally best friends. Do they not talk about anything of actual importance?

“Somebody punked us!” Severus leans forward, a sneer appearing on his face. His gaze darts over all four of us, clustered in the middle of the otherwise empty classroom, before settling on Sirius. “Why would anybody want to trap a bunch of students with mostly spotless records in detention? Seems like the sort of thing that, oh, I don’t know, a guy who’s here all the time might do for fun. Huh Black?” Regulus flinches in the corner at the sound of his surname but covers it well. I look at Sirius, but can’t picture it. Rigging detention sounds like work, and everything about Sirius—from his messy dark hair to his ratty leather jacket— screams Can’t be bothered. Or yawns it, maybe. He meets my eyes but doesn’t say a word, just tips his chair back even farther. Another millimeter and he’ll fall right over, that would be funny.

James sits up straighter, a frown crossing his perfect face. “Hang on. I thought this was just a mix-up, but if the same thing happened to all of us, it’s somebody’s stupid idea of a prank. And I’m missing football practice because of it.” He says it like he’s a heart surgeon being detained from a lifesaving operation.

Mr. Slughorn rolls his eyes. “Save the conspiracy theories for another teacher. I’m not buying it. You all know the rules against bringing phones to class, and you broke them.” He gives Severus an especially sour glance. Teachers know Prophet exists, but there’s not much they can do to stop it. Severus only uses initials to identify people and never talks openly about school. “Now listen up. You’re here until four. I want each of you to write a five-hundred-word essay on how technology is ruining high schools. Anyone who can’t follow the rules gets another detention tomorrow.”
“What do we write with?” James asks. “There aren’t any computers here.” Most classrooms have Chromebooks, but Mr. Slughorn, who looks like he should have retired a decade ago, is a holdout.
Mr. Slughorn crosses to James’s desk and taps the corner of a lined copy. We all have one. “Explore the magic of writing. It’s a lost art.”
James’s perfectly sculpted face is a mask of confusion. “But how do we know when we’ve reached five hundred words?”
“Count,” Mr. Slughorn replies. His eyes drop to the phone I’m still holding. “And hand that over, Mr Lupin.”

“Doesn’t the fact that you’re confiscating my phone twice say a lot? Who has two phones?” I ask. Sirius grins wolfishly, so quick I almost miss it. “Seriously, Mr. Slughorn, somebody was playing a joke on us.” Sirius shares a look with James muttering, “Sirius-ly.” under his breath. Idiot.

Mr. Slughorn’s mouth twitches in annoyance, and he extends his hand with a beckoning motion. “Phone, Mr Lupin. Unless you want a return visit.” I give it over with a sigh as he looks disapprovingly at the others. “The phones I took from the rest of you earlier are in my desk. You’ll get them back after detention.” Sirius and James exchange amused glances, probably because their actual phones are safe in their backpacks. Regulus looks like the whole thing is a giant waste of time and he has better things to do which granted he probably does. Regulus is super smart and joined highschool a year early which consequently landed him in his brothers year but those two never seem to talk or acknowledge the others existance.

Mr. Slughorn tosses my phone into a drawer and sits behind the teacher’s desk, opening a book as he prepares to ignore us for the next hour. I pull out a pen, tap it against my yellow notepad, and contemplate the assignment. Does Mr. Slughorn really believe technology is ruining schools? That’s a pretty sweeping statement to make over a few contraband phones. Maybe it’s a trap and he’s looking for us to contradict him instead of agree.
I glance at Sirius, who’s bent over his notepad doodling evil computers.

It’s possible I’m overthinking this.