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Sonorous Maximus


Peter, it seemed, had had a very bad night indeed since they’d seen them last. He’d waited in the common room for Annalee long after Remus and Sirius had left to go down to the Yule Ball, but she’d never come down in the long parade of girls that had brought along the others in their pouffy, colourful dresses and Peter had been confused by that and asked Vivian Warshaw to go check on her. “Oh Annalee went to the Ball ages ago,” Vivian informed him, “She was part of the decorations committee.”

Peter had gone on to the ball alone, then, muttering to himself about how it would’ve been helpful to know that his girlfriend had been on the committee before now.

However, when he arrived to the Ball, it was to find Annalee McKinnon dancing with Jackson Maw, who did not look at all uncomfortable about putting his hands on Annalee’s hips when they danced and Peter could tell just by looking at them this was not a new development - he knew her too well… and so Peter stood there in the door of the Great Hall, watching her dance with him, his heart breaking.

He hadn’t had the courage to say anything to Annalee.

Instead, Peter Pettigrew had stood there, staring for a very long minute and then turned and ran back to the dormitory, where he’d promptly ratted-up and hid beneath the sheets, where Sirius and Remus found thim hours and hours and hours later.

“But -- but why would she cheat on you?” asked Sirius, “In such an obvious place!? Is she mad? Did she think she’d get away with it?”

“I dunno!” Peter wailed.

“Surely she know we’d find out! We aren’t blind!”

Peter shook his head, “I - I dunno, Sirius!”

Sirius was determined to find out, though, and vowed he’d ask Annalee himself the next day the moment he got a chance to, even if it meant going on the hunt on the Hogwarts Express.

His first order of business, however, was much more important than talking to Annalee. Cheering up his mates was always the most important thing that he would do in a day’s work. He just hated the idea of any of the three of them being sad or upset, and so it was that after staying up for what had remained of the night, Sirius decided that the best thing to do was to give Peter something to laugh about instead.

Sirius raised his wand a moment and cleared his throat.

“This s a bad idea,” Remus said. “You know you’ll end up with detention.”

“I know.”

“But you’ve already got about twelve detentions waiting to be served,” Remus pointed out.

“All with Minnie,” Sirius said, “Minnie’s barely even count as detention!”

Remus was sitting on the edge of his bed, watching as Sirius, leaning back in his chair at the desk, his feet up on the footboard of Peter’s bed frame, grinning up at the ceiling as he rocked and spoke, holding his wand to his adam’s apple.

Sirius’s eyes twinkled.

“I can’t watch.” Remus closed his eyes and his hands went to his Prefect badge on his chest, as though covering it up would keep the badge from witnessing what a horrible dishonor he was doing it by not stopping Sirius Black.

“Sonoros Maximus,” Sirius sad. Then, “Goooooood morrrrrrning, students of Hogwarts!” And even from there, he could hear it echoing all around him, his voice magically magnified throughout the entire school - like a muggle intercom. “This is your Key Purveyor of Magical Mischief Making speaking… Today is 23 December 1975, the day of departure aboard the Hogwarts Express for the holidays... The forecast for today is a heavy downpour of pranks, tricks, and gags. We ask that you please keep your pouting to a minimum as this is a no-sulking-zone. And now a special word from our guest stars...”

Sirius’s voice was incredibly smooth, like a radio announcer’s, and Remus couldn’t help but think how hot Sirius Black was when he spoke like that, with his voice coming up from the depths of his throat, almost like a velvety purr of some sort… It made his heart rate pick up and he tried to suppress being excited by Sirius right now, when really he should be stopping him doing what he was doing.

How many times should Remus ought to have given Sirius a detention this year already? And how many times had he done? Zero. Zero of Sirius’s myriad of detentions had been given to him by Remus Lupin. And how many of the offenses had Remus been on hand to witness - or even to assist with? Many. More than he could count, but still less than the grand total of them were. Way less. Sirius Black bled trouble.

Then a smirk danced across Sirius’s face and, in a bumbling, crazy old and voice, with a ridiculously exaggerated lisp, he said, “Hulllooo ssshtudents! Thisssh ish Abfus Dimblefore, headmashhhhhter of misssshchievous activities!”

Peter was peeking out from under his covers, his rat nose twitching, and then he ran down the length of the bed and stood with his front paws on the footboard, looking up at Sirius with shivering whiskers.

Sirius continued, in his Dimblefore voice, “Itsssh going to be a good day on the Hogwartshhh Exshhhpressh today… We are going to party, boogie, get down, and caushhhhe an abshholute ruckushh!”

“Sirius. We are not,” Remus hissed.

Sirius grinned.

“PIP PIP TO UNRULINESSH!!” he cried suddenly.

The rat was squeaking in what had to be laughter.

Suddenly, Sirius switched tack, his voice dropping from the Dimblefore warble to a crisp, very exaggerated, very horrible impression of Professor McGonagall’s accent. “Headmaster Dimbllefore! I am verra sorra to tell yeee that yeee cannaugh be causin’ ab-suh-loo ruckuses aboard the Express! It would be verra bad if ye did!”

“McGonagall doesn’t say ye,” Remus said.

“I’m not doing McGonagall,” Sirius said, and that echoed through the school in his regular voice. He paused and cracked up, his laugh also echoing about, “Shit.” Also echoed. Then “Dammit” then “ferfucksake” then “Oh Merlin I can’t stop! It’s like bleedin’ cuss word dominoes!”

Remus smacked his forehead.

“For the record, that wasn’t as dirty as it sounded, it seems one of my colleagues in magical mischief making felt that I oughtn’t be making Professor Min-Min, who you just heard from just now, say ye.” He paused. Then, switching back to the Professor Min-Min voice, he added, “But ye cannaugh stop meh! I shall say yeeeeee s’much as I wanter say it!”

Peter’s rat was rolling all over the bed in hysterics. He laughed so hard that - pop! - he managed to change back into a boy by accident and he rolled about, clutching his fat little stomach, tears in his eyes as he flipped off the bed and onto the floor with a loud thump, laughing so hard that he didn’t even stop when he hit the floor.

Sirius’s eyes glowed as he looked at Remus. This was precisely the point of all this, getting Peter to laugh.

Suddenly the door to the boys dormitory slammed open.

The real Professor McGonagall stood in the frame.

Remus’s eyes went wide.

Professor McGonagall had been woken up from bed - most of the school had, really seeing as it was still the wee hours of the morning… the winter sun not even fully up over the horizon line yet. McGonagall, therefore, was still wearing her pyjamas - a long tartan nightgown with lace about the neck, ankle and wrists. She had a wide cream-coloured shawl over her shoulders and on her feet were fluffy black slippers. Upon her head, she wore an honest to god nightcap, tied in a bow beneath her chin, with her hair in a long dark braid that hung over her shoulder all the way to her waist. Remus had had no idea her hair was so long really - she’d always worn it up and twisted about so that you couldn’t tell.

Sirius choked. “Merlin’s shatted pants!” he exclaimed, eyes wide, “Minnie. You look dazzling, darling.”

“Mr. Black,” Professor McGonagall said, her voice clipped with anger.

Sirius stared up at her, and then, in his Professor Min-Min voice, he said, “Ohh Mr. Black ye are in verra, verra big trouble!”

Remus covered his eyes with both hands.

Sirius, still in character, continued, “Detentions fer the rest’ofyeh life - in my office - eating biscuits and drinking tea!”

Professor McGonagall cleared her throat and put her hands on her hips, making her elbows flap out like she was a giant tartan-coloured hen or something.

“Alright Hoggy-warty-Hogwarts,” Sirius said in his normal voice, “Remember. Party and ruckus on the train! Absolute mayhem! Signing off.” He lowered his wand from his neck and dropped his feet from Peter’s footboard, the desk chair slamming forward awkwardly - he’d been using the broken one since he didn’t need the fourth leg typically anyway, and the angle it fell at caused him to spring up to his feet and he swept his hand over the desk for the Gryffindor striped stocking cap Minnie had magicked him last time she’d been in the room, and pulled it on. With a playful grin, Sirius took three steps forward toward McGonagall, hung his head very deeply, chin touching his chest, and held out his arms so that his wrists met before him, just inches from her, “Manacle me, Minnie.” He paused. “Just don’t let Moony see, he might get turned on.”

She stared at Sirius.

Remus turned as red as red could possibly be and he shook his head in horror, eyes still covered with his hands, refusing to look.

“Mr. Black, you perverse thing.”

He peeked up at her.

She was trying so very hard to keep her face straight. But it was really a horrible struggle. Sirius’s lips slowwwwly crawled into a grin, “C’mon, Minnie…” he said, challenging her, “Break a smile for me, love.”t

She snatched his ear lobe, “Come with me.”

Sirius turned ‘round to look at Remus and Peter as she escorted him out by the ear. “SEE YOU ON THE TRAAAAAIN!” he called and the door shut behind them.

Remus looked at Peter, who was just coming up from the floor, still red faced from laughing, and said, “I’m going to lose my badge.”

“It was worth it if you do,” Peter wheezed, wiping tears of mirth from his eyes.

McGonagall escorted Sirius down the stairs and as they passed dormitory doors, heads poked out and Frank Longbottom was the first to start clapping in respect as Sirius was paraded by. Jackson Maw and Andy Woodhouse and Tobias Clement joined in from the sixth year dormitory. Once their claps were echoing about the common room, though, clapping came from other dorms as well and there was a shout “LONG LIVE SIRIUS BLACK!” from somewhere upstairs…

McGonagall dragged him through the potrait hole and the Fat Lady trilled, “There he goes! Sirius Black!”

The portraits that lined the walls either clapped or called out words of encouragement to Sirius.

“Excellent impressions! Sounded exactly like them!”

“Positively brilliant, Mr. Black!”

“Not since my day has a prank so unruly occurred, well done boy, well done!”

And down the stairs they went and as they passed them the suits of armor raised their arms in salute to Sirius and broke out in his song in honor of him.

“Jingle Bells, Snivellous Smells - Slytherins make me sick! Something, something -- Voldemort can suck my ---”

McGonagall opened her office door and pushed him through and Sirius stumbled into the chair opposite her desk and sank himself into the leather, crossing his legs before him, his elbow resting on the arm of the chair. He grinned up at her as she came ‘round the desk and stood there before him, staring down at him.

“Alright, Professor,” he said, “Lay it on me… How long am I sentenced to Minnie-kaban for? Twenty minutes? Six months? Twelve years? Four decades? The rest of my life?”

McGonagall stared at him.

His lips twitched, “Aww Minnie, speak to me, love. I miss the sound of your voice.”

“Mr. Black,” she said, very clipped… and she took pause so long that his eyebrows raised slowly, staring up at her, expectantly. Then she sighed. “Have a bleedin’ biscuit.”

Sirius grinned.