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Taking Up The Torch


It had been a few days since the Quidditch try outs and the boys were in the Great Hall eating breakfast, James and Sirius discussing - as usual lately - broom-handling tactics with Frank Longbottom when the owls came in through the high vaulted windows with the morning post. Everything was fine - business as usual - until the first of the Daily Prophet post owls had been received and a shriek went up across the Great Hall that put a shiver down Sirius’s spine as he spun ‘round to see a seventh year Hufflepuff girl with a horrified expression on her face. Another scream came up from Ravenclaw - and another - a couple boys opened the pages and yelled blimey! Soon there was an absolute rush as all the students tried to grab hold of one of the papers and see what was the matter. Sirius hurriedly untied his copy of the paper from the delivery owl’s leg, chucking the knuts to him in a haste, and shook the paper open.

HUNDREDS TRANSPORTED TO ST. MUNGO’S FOR TREATMENT OF DRAGON POX!

Sirius looked up, his face pale, “Oh no.”

James grabbed the paper and read the headline, his eyes going wide. “Bloody hell.” He started reading the article outloud. “Following an incident involving stolen vials of the deadly Dragon Pox virus last month - which was covered up by the Ministry for Magic until these latest developments - hundreds of witches, wizards, and muggles alike have been transported to the wizarding hospital, St. Mungo’s, where healers are working ‘round the clock to ensure that all of those infected with the disease are treated as efficiently as possible…” James shoved the paper at Sirius, “I can’t keep reading. Does it say anything about my Dad?” his voice was thick and eyes watery.

Sirius skimmed the article. “No… no… wait - yes! Yes, here, but wait - it’s good. He’s okay. In fact --” He cleared his throat, “Early detection of the disease is positively crucial and as many will know, Dragon Pox is often difficult to detect in it’s early stages as each strain will begin with different onset symptoms. Luckily, healers at St. Mungo’s were easily able to identify visitors with the Dragon Pox as they arrived due to Fleamont Potter, who friends know as Charlus. Charlus was exposed the day the unidentified thief escaped aurors and has been admitted at St. Mungo’s hospital since. The ability to compare Charlus Potter’s symptoms with new arrivals to the hospital have allowed healers to diagnose the virus as quickly as possible. Now, hundreds more have been transported from local muggle medical centres, as well as several from other wizarding hospitals for treatment by the healers.”

Remus shook his head, “Look at that. Your dad’s a hero again.”

James, on the other hand, looked sick. “But he’s definitely got it then - the dragon pox. I thought where mum didn’t update me… I thought… I dunno, I just thought he was alright.”

Sirius put the paper down and put an arm ‘round James’s shoulder. “It’s okay, mate, he’s helping.”

Peter took the paper up and looked it over. “Says the Ministry is still looking for the thief. It’s a woman of unknown identity, suspected to have stolen the vials from the healing research centre in Diagon Alley, where Healers go to be trained.” He frowned, “You don’t think of bad guys as being women much, do you?”

“Some of the most terrible wizarding villains have been women,” Remus said to the contrary, “If you paid attention in History of Magic you’d know that.”

“Nobody pays attention in History of Magic,” said Sirius, “You only know because you read the bloody text books like it’s fun or something.”

“Learning is fun,” Remus said.

“Oi. How are you not a bleedin’ Ravenclaw?” Sirius demanded.

James suddenly stood up, “I’m going back to the dormitory, if anyone asks where I’m at tell them I didn’t feel well.” Quickly, he bolted off.

Sirius sighed and pushed himself up from the table, “Waaaaait, James, wait up.” Remus looked at Peter, then grabbed his crutches and tried to hobble along after them. Peter took a moment to grab a couple extra bites of toast before running to catch up, too.




James was very hard to cheer up over the next couple days - and he was not the only one. As more and more students got word from home that their parents, siblings, aunts, uncles, grandparents, friends and what-not had been among those exposed to the dragon pox, a fog of depression seemed to set over the school. Everyone was uptight and worried about what would happen next. Clearly this was the work of Lord Voldemort and they persisted, despite reports that the thief had been a woman, that it was Voldemort who had stolen the vials and spread the virus. Sirius had no doubt that Moldy Voldy was behind it all, but he was curious who the woman was, too.

“I think what this castle needs is a good pick-me-up,” Sirius announced one night, halfway through dinner, when everyone looked positively dismal around him. “It’s been bloody doomsday in here for almost a week!”

“Everyone’s worried about their families, mate,” Remus pointed out, “You can’t blame them. I know I’m worried about my Dad…” He’d had Tizzy by the dormitory no less than three times that week just to get a report about Lyall, to make sure he wasn’t among those that had been brought to St. Mungo’s. (“Oh NO, sir, Master Lyall is being very goodly taken care of sir!” she’d boasted.)

“Bloody wish it was my dad who had the virus!” Sirius announced, “Bad things never happen to the right people.”

Peter looked shocked, “But he’s your father!”

Sirius shrugged and buttered a roll. “We need to do something to brighten everyone up - get some joy and happiness stirring in here again, get some laughter brewing. It’s been too quiet since Bilius left... it’s time we took up his torch.”

“Took up his torch?” Remus asked, raising an eyebrow, “I get the feeling this is going to be a bad idea that you’re going to somehow work into sounding like a good idea and we’re all going to follow along and all end up in detention.”

“Possibly.” Sirius grinned. “What do you think, Potter? Time to consult the notes?”

James looked up from his dish, “What?” he asked, having not heard a word that had been said.

Sirius shook his head and looked to Remus imploringly, “It’s long overdue.”




“Alright, tell me again why you think this is a good idea?” Remus asked several hours later when, after much consulting and discussing in their dormitory, the boys now stood huddled around in the prefect’s toilet in Gryffindor tower.

Sirius held his wand, leaning over a running faucet, watching the water whirl into the drain pipe. “Because we need to make a joke of everything that’s going on so people remember how to laugh again. And this -” he waved his palm at the water, “ - is an excellent way to do so.”

James was smiling. The fact that James was smiling was reason enough for Sirius.

“We’re going to get caught,” Peter said.

“We’re not,” Sirius argued, “It’s untraceable!”

“You don’t think they’ll figure it out when we’re the only ones not affected by it?” Remus demanded, eyebrows raised.

Sirius shrugged, “So we take showers.”

Peter’s eyes widened, “But -- if we take showers, then --”

“-- then we’ll have a good laugh with everyone else and McGonagall will set it right anyway, and in the end the whole castle will no longer be blue.” Sirius smirked.

Remus looked over at how excited James looked - it was quite the difference from the moping that had taken over his demeanor the last few days. He’d even refrained from bugging Lily Evans in Divination - so much so that she’d stopped Remus after class to ask if James was ill. Sirius was right about the fact that people needed a reason to smile… and really, he was right, too, that it would be easy for McGonagall or Dumbledore or somebody to reverse the spell… and it would be really funny…

Remus took a deep breath. “Alright, what’s the spell again?”

James grinned and held up the paper for him to see. “It’s lazulinus lignum,” he said, reading it off the paper.

“Lazulinus lignum,” mumbled Peter, memorizing the words dutifully.

Sirius said, “Guys let’s pause and have a moment of silence to the end of an era. The end of our innocence. This, this spell, it marks the beginning of a new and exciting chapter in our lives - a chapter in which we do so solemnly swear to be up to no good, a chapter in which we, the Marauders of Hogwarts, shall show the school what it is to smile - to have a light in the darkness that is our terrible little world. We -- purveyors of mayhem, masters of pranks -- shall teach Hogwarts how to laugh again! We shall take this school to the next level of immaturity! WE -- THE MARAUDERS OF HOGWARTS ARE ---”

“ -- never going to shut up!” Remus interrupted. “Are we doing to do this or are we going to make speeches about it?” He looked at Sirius pointedly.

“A little less conversation, a little more action please…” James sang, doing his best impression of Elvis Presley.

Sirius gave Remus a rude gesture as he laughed.

“Yeah, right back at you,” Remus laughed.

Sirius looked about, “Alright, alright - no more speech. Are you lot ready?” he asked, “On three. One - two --”

All three of them raised their wands to the running water coming out of the faucet.

“Lazulinus lignum!”

Their spells hit the water as it drained out of the sink, down into the pipes, and away, carrying the magic with it. They sat very still for a moment… waiting… They were just about to assume it hadn’t worked - that the Joker’s Spellbook was full of dung - when the sink faucet gurgled… popped… the water hesitated… and then positively blasted out from the tap into the basin with a force of vengeance...

All four of them had jumped back, and now Sirius took a tentative step forward, reaching out his hand and sticking it into the water.

They all held their breath.

But when Sirius withdrew his hand from the water, and a wicked grin crossed his face as he held his ultramarine-blue palm in the air…