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The Pamphlets


On Friday in Transfiguration class, Professor McGonagall delivered the most fearsome assignment that she had ever handed out. Sirius looked at the thick folded pamphlet that she’d given each of them with an expression of distaste on his face. “What the bleedin’ hell is this rubbish?” he asked, looking up at her.

“That, Mr. Black,” McGonagall drawled, “Is a pamphlet on wizarding careers and the courses that various training programs and universities require in order to enter into their tutelage.” She put a second pamphlet down between James and Sirius with Remus’s name written across the top in her tight, neat script.

Peter looked utterly miserablely at the pamphlet and Lily patted his back comfortingly.

“I would like for you all to read through the pamphlet and see if any of the career options that are presented in the literature are at all interesting to you. You’re all nearly of age, and it’s time that we begin to plan your futures. The grades you receive on your O.W.L. exams may impact what career paths you can choose to follow and you’ll want to know which areas to study the hardest at in order to follow your chosen career.” She looked about at them pointedly.

Sirius was using his pamphlet like an accordion and miming at serenading James, who was laughing, rubbing tear of mirth from his eyes.

McGonagall cleared her throat, “You’ll each write me a small paper about why you have chosen the particular --- Yes, Mr. Black?”

“I don’t see Professional Prankster Extraordinaire on this list. Can I get a new list?”

“No.” McGonagall turned around. “I want a twenty centimeter parchment on the reason you chose your particular career options and these will be handed in throughout next week at meetings we shall be schedule today in my office for your career counseling.”

Sirius stared glumly at the sheet.

“Mr. Black, are you troubled?”

He looked up, “It’s just, these are all so… serious. None of these jobs are very Sirius. If you catch my drift?”

McGonagall stared at him.

“Alright. Not getting any smiles off Minnie today. Got it.” He tucked both his own and Remus’s pamphlet into his bag and sat back in his chair, glancing over at James, who was looking through the pamphlet with an expression of interest on his face as McGonagall started talking again about the O.W.L.s, covering some revision for the Transfiguration test. Sirius sat forward and leaned closer to James. “You see some things in there you fancy doing, mate?” he whispered.

James shrugged, “Dunno, maybe.”

“Thought you were going to be an International Quidditch Champion?” Sirius asked, a teasing glimmer in his eyes.

“Dunno, maybe as a back-up option some of these could be interesting,” James replied, and he folded the brochure closed and laughed at the expression on Sirius’s face. “What? I’m still going to be a Quidditch star, of course…” He looked up and happened to catch Lily’s eyes as she looked back over his shoulder. Then he added, “Not that I’ve got to worry about money or anything - my family’s positively stacked with galleons. More galleons than I could spend in a lifetime…”

Lily turned away.

Sirius smirked. “At least you know she’s not a gold-digger, mate.”

James sighed.




That evening the Marauders sat about in the hospital wing. Remus in the bed, being forced to take it easy, and the other three about him - Sirius squashed in next to him, James sitting with his legs crossed before him on the foot of the bed facing Rey and Sirius, and Peter on the stool next to him. They all had the pamphlets opened and were flicking through, discussing their options.

“I can’t believe they expect me to know now what I want to do for the rest of my life, it’s absurd. I’m only sixteen!” Sirius said. “Don’t they know that it’s absurd to expect children to know what they want to be doing when they’re forty-three. Godric. Forty-three. Can you lot even imagine being forty-three?”

“Might as well be a million,” Peter said. He shivered.

“It’s not that old,” Remus said.

Sirius tucked his arm up behind his head, “How old do you lot reckon Minnie is?”

“Why? Are you going ot ask her out?” James asked, throwing a sugar mouse at Sirius with a laugh.

“She’s forty,” Remus said.

They all looked at him.

“What?”

“Why do you know that?” Sirius asked. “Have you asked her out?”

Remus rolled his eyes, “C’mon mate it’s public knowledge. Her birthday’s October 14, 1935. That makes her forty last year.”

“Blimey! Minnie has a birthday! Can we pause to think about that a mo’?” James said, laughing.

“Reckon she blows out candles for it?” Peter asked. “Make a wish and all that tosh?”

“That’d be a fucking gigantic cake to house forty candles,” Sirius smirked.

“Imagine the size of Dumbledore’s cake, then?” James snickered.

Sirius looked at Remus. “How old’s ol’ Dumbydore?”

“Nearly a hundred, I think… 1881. So 96.”

“Mother of Godric!” Sirius exclaimed. “He’s got to be the oldest man alive, you reckon?”

James snorted.

Peter’s eyes were quite wide.

“Bloody 96, that’s older than dirt that is.”

Remus said, “Dirt’s got a bit over on him; it’s over 3 billion years old…”

“Shut up,” Sirius said, nudging Remus as he smirked, “Is there a listing on your pamphlet for Professional Smart Ass? Because if there is, I’ve found your calling.”

Remus said, “Sort of. There’s a listing for teacher and you’re right, that’s what I’m going to be.” He pointed to the page. “I want to be a teacher. I want to teach Defense Against the Dark Arts.”

Sirius looked down at his pamphlet and flicked through it some more. “What about the rest of you? Have you lot found anything in this stupid thing you’re interested in?”

“I haven’t even found anything I’d be able to do,” Peter said miserably. “Everything requires better grades than I’ll ever get in my O.W.L.!”

“That’s why you need to revise our lessons,” Remus said, “Instead of goofing off like a group of layabouts every night.”

Sirius yawned, “I’ll ace every test without revision. It’s all stored in here.” He tapped his forehead.

Remus stared at him. “What year did the alliance of the magical federation of England form?”

Sirius thought about it a second. “1654.”

“I made that up. There’s no such thing as an Alliance of Magical Federation.” Remus turned back to his pamphlet. “Study, will you, please?”

Sirius scowled. “Trick question! Ask me a real one!”

“When was the first Goblin War started and by whom?” James asked.

Sirius said, “Uhhh… 1225 and ….King Gerlog?”

“Very good!” James praised him.

“Yeah? Am I right? Bloody hell, I must be a genius.”

“I have no idea if you’re right or not,” James said, “I don’t pay attention in History of Magic. Rey, is he right?”

“No…” Remus shook his head. “How in hell do any of you lot expect to get anywhere if this is the culmination of five years of studying magic?”

“I’ve already resigned myself to being a shop assistant,” Peter said. “Maybe someplace cool will be hiring on Diagon Alley and I’ll get to do something fun, like work at Eeylops or Bufords or something.”

Sirius said, “Yeah! Quality Quidditch Supplies! That’s what I wanna do. Potter, I’ll sell you all your professional Quidditch gear once you’re famous and I can brag at everyone that comes in that I helped sell you the broom that won the world cup.”

James was staring at the pamphlet. “I dunno guys… I… I might not wanna play Quidditch for a living anymore.”

“Not play Quidditch?” Sirius said, “Prongs, have you been hit over the head? That’s twice you’ve insinuated that you might actually look into something else off these duffing cards...”

James said, “Well… well this looks pretty interesting, actually.” He folded the pamphlet and held up a page about Auror Training at the Ministry for Magic. “It’s a couple extra years studying but - I mean, you fight bad guys for a living! You save people everyday, have loads of grand adventures, get to go places and see stuff, and - and just look at Fabian and Gideon Prewett and Alastor Moody!”

“Yes, do look at Alastor Moody,” Peter said, “Missing an eye and a leg and all those scars on his face!”

Remus looked over.

“Not that scars on somebody’s face is bad, it’s just not something one aims to have!” Peter backtracked quickly, turning red.

Remus smirked and looked back at the page James was holding up. “I think you’d be an excellent auror, James,” he said sincerely.

James beamed.

Sirius’s eyes turned down to the pamphlet in his lap and he turned it over a few times, then, “Well, we’ll all be grand won’t we? Me and Peter as shop assistants and you two, off with your fancy jobs…” Sirius bit his lower lip, “Reckon you’ll be living here, huh, Rey?”

“Maybe you could tend shop in Hogsmeade,” he suggested, smiling gently.

Sirius looked up and their eyes met. “I mean, so we’ll still be together.”

There was a silence for a long moment, and they looked amongst each other. “Blimey,” said James suddenly, “After school… we aren’t going to be ‘round each other near as much as we are now, are we?”

Peter hugged his pamphlet and stared at his toes.

“I mean, we’re all gonna go our own ways… go and study different places, get jobs in different towns, have different houses…”

Remus reached a hand out and took Sirius’s in his own.

“But we can floo and apparate whenever we want,” Peter spoke up. “We can visit each other.”

“Yeah,” Remus said.

“But we’ll be busy,” said Sirius. “Doing jobs and being grown up.”

“It’ll be different,” Remus nodded.

“Thank Godric it’s another two years away,” James said, shaking his head, “I can’t stand the thought of not seeing you idiots everyday.”

“You’re just worried you won’t see Lily Evans everyday,” Sirius said, kicking James’s knee.

James hadn’t even thought of that.

Peter said, “You guys won’t forget to visit me, too, right? You won’t just visit each other and forget about me?”

There was an uncomfortably long pause. Then James said, “Mate, of course we wouldn’t forget you.”

But the pause had been just a little too long, and Peter’s heart had sunk just a little too low for James’s words to feel true.