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The Spirit of a Prankster


While Severus had been dragging Lily into one empty classroom, Sirius was dragging Remus into the Trophy Room passageway. Peter and James scrambled after them and the moment the portrait of Brutus Scrimgeour had closed behind them, Sirius turned to Remus, his wand light illuminating the dark space. “Why didn’t you tell me they were still teasing you?” he asked, angry still from his fight with Severus so that the tone that came out was accusing and harsh.

Remus cowered away as though he expected Sirius to hit him with a hex.

“Stop that!” Sirius shouted, “You know I wouldn’t hurt you, you stupid wolf.”

“Then stop waving that thing about like you intend to,” Remus said, knocking Sirius’s wand aside.

Sirius glared, “Have they been at it this whole time?”

“No,” Remus lied.

Peter spoke up, “They - they call him names.”

“Shut up, Peter,” Remus hissed.

“They tried to beat him up in Hogsmeade before Christmas. When we were outside, we were at the fountain --”

“Peter!” Remus growled.

“ -- and Evan Rosier and his lot came by and they threw a snow ball in his face and an icicle at us when we ran and --”

Shut up Peter,” Remus’s growl was deep in his throat.

“And they call him Puffer Fish!” Peter finished.

Remus closed his eyes.

James looked confused, “What? What kind of an insult is that?” he asked, his brows furrowed.

“Puffer fish. As in blow fish. As in -- as in I… you know… with my mouth… with… with… boys,” Remus explained, sighing. “It’s stupid and I don’t care.” He was lying again.

Sirius was so mad he was seeing red. His jaw was stone hard. He shook his head, “I’ll bloody murder them all. Who was it that’s done it? Evan Rosier. Who else?”

“Sirius --” Remus shook his head, “It’s not worth it, alright?”

“It is worth it, I can see it in your eyes it bothers you. Don’t lie to me.”

Remus hung his head, “Just calm down. Please.”

“CALM DOWN?” Sirius paced a quick circle and wrung his hands. “How am I supposed to calm down when those stupid Slytherins are making your life miserable? It’s ridiculous! This whole thing is ridiculous. We’re not gay! We’re friends and that’s it and it’s such a stupid idea that we’d ever be anything more than that -- ever!” He shook his head, “Bloody ridiculous.”

Remus didn’t look up. He couldn’t. He just stared at his trainers, feeling the pit of his stomach drop to his toes. He nodded, “Yeah. Ridiculous idea.”

James caught Sirius’s shoulder, “We’re going to put a stop to it, but we gotta be smart about it. You and your detentions - you’re booked nearly straight through a month. What’re you going to do if they schedule you one on the full moon?”

Sirius sighed, “I just won’t be there.”

“They’ll go looking for you and what’re you going to say when they find you - a dog in the shack with a werewolf? Think some questions might raised about what the hell you were thinking becoming an animagus!” James said. “No, there’s better ways to teach those old Slytherins a lesson.”

Sirius’s lightbulb went off at that. “You’re right,” he said, excitedly. “There’s far better ways to exact revenge.”

“I dunno if I meant exact a revenge by that,” James said, looking nervous, “I just meant --”

“Sshhh,” Sirius held up his finger, smooshing James’s lips into silence with his index. “Genius is at work here, actively geniusing is happening as you look on.” He lowered his hand from James’s mouth and pressed his palm against his forehead.

“Sirius ---” Remus sounded hesitant, “What are you --”

“I feel the spirit of a prankster is upon me…” Sirius drawled in a TV evangelist voice, rapping his forehead, deep in thought. A grin broke out across his mouth. “Ah yes, and there it is! The spirit has brought forth the seed of idea! Hallelujah!” Sirius raised the palms of his hands skyward.

James laughed, eyes twinkling with admiration at his best mate, “Whatever this is… is gonna be bloody brilliant.”




“Mr. Black -- I feel as though I ask you this each and every day -- where are your robes and school uniform?” McGonagall asked, sighing.

James laughed down at his textbook.

Sirius pointed to his head, “Well there’s my tie.” He’d tied his Gryffindor tie up into a knot ‘round his forehead, the end of it trailing off like a tail along side his face.

“And the rest?” she asked.

“Well professor, see, I thought perhaps it might be a bit more interesting for you if I gave you something different to look at while you taught,” Sirius said, “You know. A little flash of colour. A bite of pizazz to the room…?” He waved his arms at the t-shirt - which had a picture of a warning label emblazoned on his chest WARNING: The Tone of This Record is Unsuitable For Minors the shirt read in bold white letters on red fabric. He had his feet up on the desk again.

McGonagall stare at him.

He lowered his feet.

“If you don’t start wearing the proper uniform to class --”

“Again. I have my tie.”

“Yes, Mr. Black, you do. Around your head. It’s only a little higher than it ought to be.”

Sirius grinned, “See, now that’s the spirit Professor Minney!”

She grit her teeth, “Mr. Black,” she said in a warning tone.

“Yes?”

“Your uniform. In it’s proper place next class. I mean it.”

“Yes, Professor Minney.”

“It’s Professor McGonagall, Mr. Black,” she said firmly.

“Yes, Professor.”

McGonagall rolled her eyes and turned her back to keep the amusement that was twitching her face from showing too much. She cleared her throat and pretended to be looking through her book to see where they were at, even though she knew perfectly well without looking. Finally, when she was sure she’d managed to compose herself, she looked up. “Are there any questions?” she asked.

Sirius Black’s hand shot up.

McGonagall hesitated, but none of the other third year Gryffindors offered any alternative option, so finally, she asked, “Yes, Mr. Black?”

Sirius cleared his throat and sat up straighter. “I was curious… Are you good at juggling?”

McGonagall blinked at him. James snorted so hard his nose hurt as he stared into his book and Peter started giggling. Remus looked at Lily warily and Lily rolled her eyes.

“Excuse me?” McGonagall asked, “What does that have to do with anything, Mr. Black?”

Sirius shrugged. “You asked if we had any questions.”

“I meant about Transfiguration,” she emphasized.

“Ohhhh.” Sirius grinned and leaned back again, returning his feet to the table, “Well, then. See that does make a difference, doesn’t it? You didn’t specify the first time. I thought perhaps we could ask something to get to know you on a more personal level.”

She closed her eyes and forced herself to count to ten.

“What’s your favorite colour, Professor Minney?” Sirius asked. “Mine’s yellow.”

McGonagall stared at him, her jaw firm, her nerves grinding. “It is green,” she said, “Spruce green. Now. Are you quite through?” she asked.

Sirius nodded, grinning in amusement that he’d gotten an actual answer. “Yes, Professor.”

“Okay. Then today we’ll be turning to page 753 to continue our discussion about the --- What, Mr. Black?”

Sirius had raised his hand again. He smiled as she acknowledged him. “I swear this one’s to do with Transfiguration,” he reassured her.

“What is it?” her tone was clipped.

“Say… say you wanted to transfigure something…and make it… into something else…”

“That is the definition of Transfiguration, Mr. Black, yes, but I thought we covered that three years ago?” Professor McGonagall said.

Sirius grinned, “Well say that something was a person - specifically a Slytherin - and the something else was a -- I dunno -- a goat… what sort of punishment might that bring upon a lad?”

“Mr. Black,” McGonagall stared at him. “You are not to transfigure anyone into a goat.”

“Okay.”

“Or any other barnyard animal,” she added.

Sirius nodded slowly and started to open his mouth to say something, so McGonagall quickly cut him off, “Or any plant or mineral!” She glowered at him, trying to think if she’d covered all her bases. Then, “Or any inanimate objects. Earthbound or celestial. Mr. Black, don’t transfigure anybody into anything. Are we clear?”

“What about --” Sirius began, but Lily cut him off.

“Will you shut up being a pain and let Professor McGonagall teach us the lesson already?!” she cried.

Sirius grinned and sighed, relenting, “Alright fine. Go on with your lesson then, Minnie.”

James looked over at Sirius as McGonagall turned to write on the board. “You know she’s going to know you’ve done it now when you do whatever it is you’re doing.. yeah?.”

Sirius leaned back, rocking on the back two legs of his chair, “Yeah. I know.” He looked quite proud of himself.

James shook his head, “I think you like having detention,” he whispered.

“When else am I supposed to do my homework?” Sirius asked. “Besides. She didn’t specifically bar off what I had in mind…” he grinned.

“She didn’t?” James laughed, “She literally named everything.”

“Not particularly everything…” Sirius replied.




That night in the Great Hall, there was a brilliant commotion at the Slytherin table. Evan Rosier had taken a sip of his pumpkin juice only to instantly sprout a beard as white as the snow that blew against the windows. “What the hell?!??!” he panicked, shrieking and grabbing at the whiskers that had come shooting out his chin with alarming speed. His arms were flailing about. But it wasn’t just Evan whose face was suddenly aged approximately seventy-three years. No instead it was nearly all the Slytherin boys - Snape, McNair, Avery, Mulciber, Goyle, Crabbe, the Carrows, Horan…

Sirius clutched his sides as he looked over at the Slytherin table. Everyone who was not a Slytherin in the hall started laughing and the Slytherins all fell over one another trying to help the inflicted by trying to magick away the whiskers. Laughter doubled all about the hall as the rescuers learned that any whiskers they cut off the inflicted grew up on their own chins!

“That’s some good pranking spirits,” James said, raising a high-five to Sirius as Remus looked on in horror at the waving, sprouting beards and the panicked eyes on the Slytherins faces as Professors Slughorn and Veigler hastened to help them end the spell. “I readily worship your prankster gods,” James hooted.

Sirius grinned, quite pleased with himself.