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Sneaking About


The first week back from holiday was a rough one. The teachers were already focusing on the end of term exams, taking to reminding the fourth years that next year would be their O.W.L.s and they needed to learn how to study proper now before... There was an awful lot of reading assigned, which was always tasking for Sirius, who hated reading, but it wasn’t so bad now that Moony had taken to reading the assignments to him… Now that James and Peter were back, though, it was harder because every time that either of those two walked in on Remus and Sirius sitting alone, they assumed the pair of them had been in the middle of a snog session and they’d run away, apologizing for interrupting.

Granted, they usually were in the middle of a snog session, but not always. Not every single time… (Although Sirius would’ve been alright with it if they just never stopped snogging at all, it’s just that Remus seemed to think they needed to take breathers and do things like go to class and dinner and whatever, and all that stuff seemed so boring to Sirius now; but then everything seemed boring when compared to putting his lips all over his Moony’s face). Sometimes they were just doing homework.

For example, one day, James walked in on them doing revisions and nearly broken his ankle. It was innocent enough, Remus reading the Defense Against the Dark Arts chapter they’d been assigned while Sirius lounged, as Snuffles, laying across Remus’s lap while Remus used his furry back for a table to lay his book on. James, however, had walked in, covered his eyes and felt his way to his trunk, “Just gettin’ my Herbology book, don’t mind me… Not looking…”

“You can look,” Remus said, laughing.

“No, no, not looking, it’s alright, not seeing anything at - ow!” James had tripped over Sirius’s ridiculously long Gryffindor scarf, which hung over the end of his bed and trailed off toward the door it was so long.

“Bloody hell, just open your eyes before you break something.”

“Just… don’t wanna interrupt… anything.”

“We aren’t snogging if that’s what you’re getting at,” Remus said, “We’re reading the Defense assignment.”

James looked up and saw Snuffles looking at him with his big doggy head cocked and James laughed, “What the --”

Remus said, “He finds it easier to concentrate on the assignments as a dog. Apparently he’s less flighty that way.”

The dog nodded.

James laughed, “Whatever turns your knobs, guys… Seriously, not judging…” and he hurried off with the Herbology book.

Remus looked down at Snuffles, who stared at the door after James’s retreating back. “We need to find some other place to snog; I reckon we’ve traumatized the poor bloke.”

Snuffles let out a huffing bark that sounded a bit like a laugh.

“Oi, don’t go laughin’ at that, it isn’t funny. You don’t enjoy watching them sneak about us like that, do you?”

The dog’s eyes twinkled.

“Well you’re an arse who enjoys other people’s misery for fun,” Remus replied to the twinkle.

Snuffles let his tongue hang out.

“Bloody dog,” muttered Remus. “I know all you want to do is snog 24:7 but, mate, life just doesn’t work like that, we can’t just snog and do nothing else or we -- don’t you dare.”

Snuffles had stood up with a playful look about his face and was coming closer, tongue lolling out over his jaw.

“Bad Sirius. Sit,” Remus commanded, leaning away, knowing...

The dog bark-laughed again and quickly llicked his face and Remus tried very hard not to laugh until it’d gone on for several long licks and slobber was getting all over him and he giggled and tried to push Snuffles of him, “Stop it, you bastard,” he laughed, but the dog knocked him over into the pillows, and even as Remus waved his arms to stop him, the dog transformed into a Sirius, laughing and lapping Remus’s face just the same, quickly catching up his hands so he’d stop slapping him away, pinning him to the bed on his back. “Stooop,” Remus laughed, staring up at Sirius, panting from the rush of the struggle, his heart rate accelerated from either that or maybe the great grey eyes, his favorite color of steel that reminded him of comfortable things and ice that cooled the burns Sirius’s touches left on his soul. Remus bit onto his lower lip.

“You love it,” said Sirius, pausing, letting go of Rey’s hands, his long black hair hanging over from one side of his head and brushing the sides of Remus’s cheek.

“I don’t, though, you’re so horrible,” Remus said, sitting up, knocking Sirius into sitting beside him; but he even as he said the words, it was obvious on his face that he did love it, so Sirius just grinned at him, knowing better until finally Remus said, “Bloody hell, do I love you, even when you’re annoying. Which is always.”

Sirius said, “It’s my middle name. Annoying. Sirius Annoying Black.”

“No it isn’t, it’s Orion,” said Remus, a smirk to his voice.

“Are you sure? Here, let me prove it how annoying I am,” Sirius laughed and leaped at him again, tongue out.

“Nnoooo!” Remus giggled, dodging off… the Defense text forgotten completely.




Peter woke with a start. It was four in the morning a week and a half into the fresh start of the term, and he’d just had the nightmare again for the ninth time in as many days... His palms were pools of sweat and he shook, sitting up in his bed in the dark. James was asleep, sprawled across his bed like a giant starfish in plaid pyjamas. A quick glance at Remus’s bed told him that Rey and Sirius were squashed in there together under the blankets that they’d pulled up over their heads, Sirius having snuck over sometime after the others had fallen asleep.

Peter crawled out of bed, too anxious to stay sitting there. He wanted something to eat - eating was the only way Peter could deal with emotions, really, but he didn’t want to get caught going to the kitchens… So he grabbed the Marauders’ Map from Remus’s desk and he hesitated by James’s trunk before carefully pushing open the lid and withdrawing the silvery cloak from inside. He was very quiet about it, not wanting to wake the other three up, and a bit nervous to get caught going into James’s things. Sure Sirius did it all the time, but that was different - Peter wasn’t sure how James would feel about him doing it...

Sneaking down to the kitchens in the dark wasn’t something Peter would normally have the nerve to do alone. He wondered whether there would be any House Elves there at all or if he’d have to knick what he could find in the iceboxes and cupboards without the Elves help. Did House Elves get time off, he wondered? Did they take breaks?

He carefully carried the map along, open and squinting for Filch or Mrs. Norris on the pages as he walked, taking his time, enjoying the stroll and letting the feeling of movement wash off the thick nervousness that filled him from the nightmare…

He was almost halfway down the moving staircase, riding it to the landing he needed, when he heard the voice.

Peeeeter….

He shivered.

Suddenly, his knees went weak beneath him and they buckled and he grabbed the banister to keep from plummeting forward off the empty end of the stairwell. He clutched the wood, the only solid he was fully, really aware of as his mind exploded with the sound of Honey Pettigrew’s screams as he’d heard them in all his most recent dreams -- ”NOO! PLEASE!!!! PETER! PETER!!!!!! PLEASE!”. The moment the stairwell connected with the landing, Peter let go of the bannister, clutching at his head, blocking his ears, as though that could help make the sound of it go away from within his mind, and rolled onto the carpet, twitching as though he were undergoing a horrible curse...

I’m going mad. I’m going mad. The panicked thought filled Peter and he trembled as the screaming in his head came to a stop and he laid there breathlessly a moment, tears streaming down his face silently. I’m going mad one step at a time the same as Maggie. She probably had these same hauntings…

Suddenly there was a shuffling sound down the hallway and Peter sat up, frightened, staring into the dark. His fall had made the invisibility cloak fall off and the Marauders’ Map lay on the stairs with the cloak at his side… his eyes fell on the label on the dot approaching him.

Mopsus.

“Peter Pettigrew,” came Mopsus’s voice as he stepped out of the shadow in the same moment that Peter had read his name from the parchment. “Out of bed a wee early, aren’t we?” Mopsus’s white-covered eyes stared blankly ahead, extra creepy in the dying moonlight that silvered the halls from the high windows.

Peter stammered, “Couldn’t sleep sir, I needed to go for a walk to clear my head.”

“It doesn’t feel cleared,” murmured Mopsus.

Peter swallowed nervously, “I - I suppose not - I --”

“I’ve seen what you see, Peter.”

“You.. you have?”

Mopsus nodded slowly, clutching onto his tree-root-entwined cane. “I have… and you are not going mad.”

“I’m not?” Peter’s voice lifted hopefully. “How do you know?”

“Mopsus sees all,” whispered the seer, and Peter shivered, remembering the day that Maggie had said those very words, sitting in the living room of the Pettigrews’ house before the fireplace…”Something else is happening to you, Peter Pettigrew.”

“What?”

“Come to my office, and we’ll discuss it,” Mopsus suggested.

Peter struggled to his feet. “Alright.”

“Not now,” Mopsus said lowly. “Come on the full moon. And bring your ball.”

Peter stared at Mopsus, “My… my ball, sir?”

“Yes, your crystal ball,” the seer said. “Come on the full moon… we have much to see together.”

Peter swallowed the nerves that were turning his stomach and Mopsus shuffled on, sweeping his cane over the carpet as he walked, feeling his way forward, and as he went, he called, “Don’t forget your things on the stairs - the map and the cloak. Your friends will be needing those… also, don’t eat all of the Manchester tarts in the kitchens. Some of us have been rather looking forward to them since the elves started preparing them. Goodnight, Peter Pettigrew.”

Peter watched him go, disappearing into the shadows, then he grabbed up the Map and the cloak. He looked back up the stairs, knowing he should go back and tell the others what happened, but… well, they were asleep anyway and… and Manchester Tarts were one of his favorites… and he was still so anxious… just one or two of the tarts, maybe, and then bed… yeah, that made the most sense.

So off he went, sprinting down toward the kitchens.