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Playing with Fire


Barty Crouch was prone to nightmares. This was something Regulus had learned about his new best mate the first night they’d spent in the Slytherin dormitories. The other boys were more agitated than eager to help Barty feel better when he would wake up sweating and crying during the night, and so, being his best mate, the responsibility fell onto the shoulders of Regulus Black. That night, it was the same. Regulus guided Barty down to the common room by the pale white-yellow flames in the fire and got a blanket for him to huddle beneath as he hiccuped and swept the tears away with his fist.

“Kreacher,” called Regulus and with a crack the old house elf appeared standing on the coffee table. “Fix Barty some tea, Kreacher,” he commanded.

“Kreacher will do as Master Regulus says,” he jumped down from the table and snapped his fingers so that a couple tea cups appeared where he’d been standing and a kettle and he put the kettle into the fire so warm.

Regulus turned to Barty. “Was it your Dad again?” he asked.

“It’s always him,” Barty nodded. “My mum’s really great, she doesn’t care if I’m in Slytherin. She still writes me. It’s him that cares. He hates me, Reg. I dunno what’ll happen when I go home. He already detested me, but now…”

Regulus shook his head, “You’re in the best house. He’s an idiot if he can’t see that. All the best people come from Slytherin. Merlin himself was a Slytherin, you know!”

Barty snuffled loudly and nodded, “You told me that. I just can’t help but think that if I’d got into Ravenclaw, maybe my Dad would’ve been alright with me.”

“Sometimes there’s nothing you can do about it when your family isn’t screwed on all right,” Regulus replied, thinking of Sirius. “Sometimes, they just go mental and stop thinking the way they ought to. There’s nothing you can do to fix it. Eventually they’ll either come around themselves - or else they never do.” He shrugged. “Sounds to me like your Dad hasn’t got his brains about him as he should.”

Barty looked profoundly sad and Regulus felt poorly, so he sat beside him. “Barty, I’m sorry.”

Kreacher came over then with the kettle, his big ears flapping as he poured the tea into the two cups he’d conjured. He put the kettle back by the fire. “Do we need sugar and milk, Master?” Kreacher asked. Regulus shook his head and Kreacher simpered at his feet, waiting for another command, not yet ready to go back to Grimmauld Place and the commands of the Dark Lord.

“I just wish things were easier,” said Barty sadly, “Why does everything got to be so complicated?”

“Dunno,” Regulus shrugged, “People are funny that way, I s’pose. I wish I could smooth it out for you, mate… I would, if I could. One day, you’ll be really powerful and great and your Dad will wish he’d been a bit better to you while he had the chance. You’ll see. The Dark Lord will make us great if we just trust in him and follow his commands.”

Barty nodded.

As Barty and Regulus talked, Kreacher’s ears moved and he looked around, his large eyes moving slowly over the common room, squinting. He leaned down to peer under the couch toward the door. The door was opening, the snake-shaped handle twisted and the hinges moving so very slowly that not a sound was issued.

“Master Regulus,” croaked Kreacher, reaching for Regulus’s pyjama knee and tugging a bit to get his master’s attention, “There is somebody at the door.”

Regulus turned around to look. Indeed, the door was open a jar, but there was nobody there. He stood up and started walking toward it to investigate, pulling his wand from his pocket. “Who’s there?” he called, “Peeves is that you?”

Suddenly, something bright blue appeared, seemingly out of no where, and it scurried across the floor in a rush, a streak of blue light. Regulus turned to watch it as it ran past his feet -- only to find like twenty more of them within seconds, running about the common room.

“What is that?” asked Barty with concern, having gotten up, too, and followed Regulus. “What are those things?”

“Fire salamanders,” whispered Regulus. And no sooner had he got the words out of his mouth than one of the glowing salamanders belched and erupted into a great ball of fire emitting from his back. Barty jumped in surprise. Regulus looked around at them all - probably fifty in total - as they scurried and ran and belched and then one of them had run too close to some robes somebody had left flung over the chair and the robes caught fire, red glowing flames climbing up the sleeve of the robe. “Oh no.” Regulus ran to fetch the cup of tea he hadn’t yet finished and doused the flames with it. But even as he did that, three more caught fire to the couch and one to a green velvet table runner. “Oh no. Oh no.” Regulus started to panic.

Kreacher did his best to try to catch them, but there were far too many salamanders running about, and one by one things just kept lighting fire. “Quick,” Regulus said, “Go get Avery.”

Barty ran for the stairs.

“Aquamenti,” Regulus cast the charm and water spurted from his wand and he ran about the room, trying to put out fires and douse lizards before they could ignite. But there was only one boy trying and about 50 lizards lighting up all over the place. It seemed hopeless! Half the Slytherin common room was on fire by now.

Avery came running down the stairs then, with Regulus at his heels. His eyes widened at the scene and he quickly waved his wand, “Accio Fire Salamanders!” Dozens of the things flew through the air quickly and landed in a big pile of fiery limbs and tails at Avery’s feet, scrambling about over one another, bursting into flames in their agitation, trying to escape. Barty joined in with the aquamenti charm, and from the dorms came several other students, hearing the commotion downstairs, including Evan Rosier and Severus Snape and they all worked together to put out the fire that had very nearly engulfed the common room in magical flame.

When they’d successfully doused the fire and McNair had helped Avery put the fire salamanders into a giant jar they’d transfigured out of a bust of Salazar Slytherin, the common room smelled singed. They stood about, all staring at one another.

“Where did these things come from?” Avery asked.

“They walked right in the door,” replied Regulus.

“Obviously somebody threw them in here,” said Geoffrey Mulciber.

“Who would do that?” asked Alecto Carrow stupidly.

“The question is not who,” said Evan Rosier, glaring at the door, “But how did they get the door open? Only someone who belongs in Slytherin can open that door! Slytherin himself designed it that way!”

“It’s not the first time they’ve snuck into our common room,” intoned Severus, thinking of the mirror the Gryffindors had stolen from Lucius Malfoy in first year. “They’ve got some trick figured out to fool it.”

A tapestry hissed as the last thread that had been holding it together snapped and fell to the floor. They all looked over at it. Then Evan Rosier said, “They think they’re so smart, getting into our common room with their blasted lizards and trying to burn it down, well they’re really going to be sorry now. This is war.” He rolled up his sleeves.

“What are we going to do?” asked Mulciber.

Evan thought about it a moment, then he chuckled. “Well. If they want fire, then we’ll give them a bloody fire.”




The Marauders were running back through the castle, Sirius ecstatic because of all the Slytherins they could’ve possibly encountered in the common room while they dumped the fire salamanders off it had been Regulus! That only made the prank so much better! They were using the Trophy Room passageway so they could run without the cloak and trying to dodge Filch on the moving staircase, where Peeves had done something awful that made the whole stair well smell horribly like eggs. Sirius was dancing ahead of them, spinning and laughing as he went. “That went splendidly! Couldn’t have planned it better!”

Peter said, “I didn’t know that fire salamanders were so fast, did you see how they all ran when we dumped them out? It was like an invasion!”

“It was brilliant!” James exclaimed and he quickly jumped forward and high-fived Sirius, “Good one, mate! You’re a genius!”

“I do what I can,” Sirius grinned.

Remus said, “I just hope they don’t manage to burn the whole bloody castle down…”

“Don’t be a wet blanket, Rey!” Sirius cried, “Did you see the look on Reg’s face? He looked about ready to soil himself. The little scab didn’t know what to do!” He hooted.

James snickered, “Imagine they’re all down there now racing about trying to catch the ruddy things.” He imitated the Slytherins in his mind, running a couple circles around Peter squealing, “C’mere ickle salamander, c’mere!! Oh no one is after me! Ah!”

Peter chuckled and ran with James, holding his hands up like a monster, pretending to be the salamander that was after him.

When they’d reached the end of the tunnel, they quieted down, and Sirius led the way through the corridors from the Trophy room, sneaking along and consulting the map for Filch’s location. He was still dealing with whatever was making that horrid smell that Peeves had done, though, and nowhere near Gryffindor tower, so they rushed along to the portrait of the Fat Lady without any obstacles and climbed through the portrait hole. They climbed the stairs and pushed open their dormitory door, Sirius about to crack a joke about the Slytherins again when he stopped dead in his tracks, the other three slamming into him. “Oh hell,” Sirius said.

Peter and James were shorter than Sirius and struggled to see over his shoulders, but Remus who was taller could see and he muttered, “I told you...”

Kreacher was standing square in the center of Sirius’s bed and in his fist was a jar of flames that shimmered green-white. He stared at the four Gryffindors in surprise, clearly having not expected them to come in before he’d done whatever his nasty little deed to do was. “Oi Kreacher,” Sirius said in as commanding a voice as he could muster, “Put that down.”

Kreacher looked at Sirius, his wide eyes glittering. “Master Sirius says to put it down, so Kreacher will put it down.” And he raised the jar up over his head --

“No! Wait! Put it down gently!” Sirius tried to amend his statement, but it was too late. Kreacher had already thrown the jar very violently to the floor, shattering the glass and with a click of his fingers, he was gone. The green fire caught onto James’s bed curtains and Sirius drew his wand, “Aquamenti!” he cried, but the water seemed to feed the flame and everywhere water drops fell, more green fire erupted.

“Aquamenti!” tried Peter, but his water had the same effect and the flame climbed up James’s bed curtain quickly. “Aquamenti!”

“Stop with the water charm, it’s obviously impervious to water!” shouted Remus.

Sirius started to panic and tried throwing a stunner at the fire, but that didn’t help any. Remus hurried to get the charms book and flipped to the index to find the location of the section on Magical Fires and Remedies and turned the pages quickly as James tried in vain to blow it out with an air blowing charm. Sirius ripped the curtain down and tried stamping on it with his trainers, but it caught the hem of his pyjama pants on fire instead.

“Wait a minute, it isn’t burning,” Sirius said, as the flame tickled his leg. “It’s…” he looked at the bed curtain and the hem of his pyjamas, “It’s bloody turning everything green.”

Just as he said it, James’s quidditch robes, which were hanging out of his trunk from earlier when they’d got the invisibility cloak out, caught on fire. “AH! NOT MY QUIDDITCH ROBES!” James shouted and he sprang forward to save them, but they were already turning green. “NO! NO! STOP! NO! I’LL LOOK LIKE A BLOODY SLYTHERIN! AH!”

Peter was frantically puffing his cheeks and trying to blow the flames out like they were atop birthday candles.

Remus’s fingers traced down the page on fire, but there didn’t seem to be a bloody thing about color-changing fires that didn’t actually burn anything. Sirius had been engulfed nearly entirely by now and it seemed once something had been turned fully green, the fire moved on and consumed something else for Sirius’s ankles, clad now in green pyjamas, were fire free, as were the curtains and James’s quidditch robes. The carpet was slowly turning green as the fire spread and Peter’s duvet and there were several spots on the ceiling where it had caught from the top of James’s four poster.

“WHY HAS IT GOT TO BE GREEN?!” shrieked James.

“‘COS ITS FROM THE BLOODY SLYTHERINS!” Sirius cried.

Their door opened and there was Frank Longbottom, followed by the other fourth years. “You lot are making an awful lot of noise up here for three in the morning and we’re trying to sleep!” he complained. Then he saw the flames, “Oi! Their room’s on fire! Aquamenti!”

“NO THAT MAKES IT WORSE!” screamed Sirius, but it was too late, the green flames had spread all the way to the door at Frank’s feet and he jumped back as his slippers caught and turned green and started in on his pyjamas.

“What the hell is this?” exclaimed Andy Woodhouse as Frank started dancing about, as though he could kick the flames from his legs.

“Some rubbish the Slytherins cooked up!” James explained, “To get us back for dumping a load of fire salamanders in their common room!”

“You did what?!” laughed Tobias Clement, “When did you lot do that?”

“Just now,” Sirius answered as the flames went out on him, his pyjamas entirely green now, “To get back at them for the thunderstorm in the Great Hall.”

Frank started laughing as the flames tickled his stomach.

“But didn’t they only do that because you made a swamp of their corridor?” asked Jackson Maw.

“Well we bloody did that because they got us all detentions for the quidditch game tomorrow!” James said.

Andy shook his head, “No you earned the detention by starting a duel!”

“Which was because they called Remus gay!” Sirius shouted.

Remus turned red.

The Head Boy, a seventh year named Christopher Lewis, suddenly appeared over Frank’s shoulder, “WHAT is going ON? We can hear you shouting clear down in the seventh year dorm! Wait is that coloflame? Why are you playing with that for? Forfuckssake!” He waved his wand with a silent incantation and the flames disappeared. “Didn’t your mam ever tell you not to play with coloflame? Look at this mess!”

Half the room was green.

“Thanks Chris,” said Frank.

Christopher shook his head, “Just clean this ruddy mess up or I’ll have to tell McGonagall what’s going on. Who started the coloflame anyway?”

Everyone looked at Sirius.

“What?” he exclaimed, “I didn’t do it. It was the Slytherins.”

“No Slytherin could get in this common room,” Christopher said sharply, “Five points from Gryffindor for lying.”

“OI!” shouted Jackson Maw, “What’re you taking points from your own house for, are you an idiot?”

“No, I’m just pissed off and tired!” Christopher said. “Enough with the racket! And you - no more playing with coloflame! It’s not funny, they may not actually burn but they are technically a hazard so enough.”

“But --” Sirius started to argue, but Remus shook his head and he shut up.

“Clear it up and go to bed, the lot of you,” Christopher said and they heard his footsteps receded down the stairs to the seventh year dorms.

Frank looked down at himself, “These were my favorite slippers and pyjamas, too, now they’re all green.”

“Cheer up, it’s my quidditch robes,” James said, hoisting the robes up for them to look at.

Andy made a face, “You’ll need those replaced before the next game, Potter.”

“No kidding? I was planning on flying with these!” James threw them down, “I can’t believe they’ve done this! The load of idiots!”

Sirius shook his head and kicked the lump of green curtains. “We’ve got to come up with something really good to return for this. This is not acceptable.”

Remus looked over, “You’re not serious.”

“I am serious!” Sirius answered.

James snickered, “It’s literally your name isn’t it?”

Remus shook his head, “You can’t possibly be planning to continue this. It’s just going to get worse and worse and they have a house elf that can help them wage the war!”

Peter piped up, “Well… you have a house elf.”

Sirius grinned, “That’s right. Tizzy can help us.”

“Uh uh.” Remus shook his head, “Don’t go getting Tizzy into this. There shouldn’t even be a this to get her into.”

Frank Longbottom looked back at the other three fourth years, then back to Sirius. “Whatever it is you’re thinking, we want to help, too. Those blasted Slytherins just ruined my best pyjamas - which my mum’s going to kill me for ruining by the way. They’re going down.”

Sirius grinned, “Excellent. The more the merrier.”

“Sirius, please,” begged Remus.

But Sirius now had an army at his command, and Remus’s pleas weren’t about to stop them.