Harry, Ron, and Hermione exited the Great Hall with the rest of the students, all of whom were discussing the morning’s events. The three of them were discussing it as well. “Wonder why Snape immediately accused you, Harry.” Ron remarked, and Harry had been wondering the same thing. “I guess its just because it’s Snape, and he hates me, and he knows I hate him. So he just assumed I convinced a flock of flamingos to attack him during breakfast.” Harry hypothesized, but Hermione didn’t look too sure. “That couldn’t be it. I know that he doesn’t exactly, well, like you…” Hermione tried to say nicely, but Harry raised his eyebrows. “Ok, fine, he hates you… but remember what else he said? The part about remembering who did this to him last time? Harry couldn’t have done it last time!” This of course made sense, Hermione always made sense. “Why would accuse me, then, if he knew who had done it last time? I wonder who did do it last time?” Harry asked her, hoping she would have some answers. “Well, it couldn’t have been too recent, because it came as a real shock to all the older teachers. They must have seen it before… so maybe it was when Snape was a student?” Hermione ventured as they entered the transfiguration class room. Behind them, the Marauders were listening carefully. “That one is too clever! They could find out!” Remus whispered, and they knew that Hermione had guessed close to the truth. “That doesn’t make sense, Hermione! Why would Snape accuse Harry of something that had scarred him for life as a child, before Harry had been born?” Ron replied, feeling that he had outsmarted her. Before Hermione could answer, however, class began. “McGonagall is the same as ever.” James told the Marauders as they once again huddled in a corner to watch. “Let’s test her memory!” Sirius whispered mischievously, summoning a piece of chalk silently as the class busied itself taking out their books. “Padfoot, if you were considering writing that thing you wrote on her board last week….” James began, grinning at his friend. “An elephant never forgets!” Sirius replied, and put a charm on himself so that people would ignore his presence if they didn‘t know he was already there. The Marauders watched him step out from under the cloak and approach the chalkboard. “Transfiguring Peacocks into jewelry is a very refined art.” McGonagall was lecturing the class, with her back to the board. The class’s heads were down, scribbling notes. The Marauders watched as Sirius picked up a piece of chalk, and began to write. The message was highly inappropriate, but very funny. Sirius hurried back under the cloak to wait for the class’s reaction, and undid the charm. Harry looked up to see McGonagall, but spotted something written on the board in oddly familiar handwriting. He knew it wasn’t McGonagall’s writing, for she would never write something so inappropriate but highly amusing on the board. Several other students had noticed it too. The Marauders watched as a tall black boy raised his hand. “Yes, Mr. Thomas?” MocGonagall asked him, still unaware of they message behind her. “Professor, will the notes on the board be on our test?” He asked, trying to keep a straight face. McGonagall looked perplexed at the question. “Notes on the board? I haven’t written…” She began to say, turning around to face the board. The class was now in cavorts of laughter, and she stared at the board in disbelief. She turned to face the class again, but did not look amongst them for the culprit. She instead scanned the room, looking wildly about. The class watched her with interest. “Just as I thought.” She said to herself, shifting her attention back to the class. “No, Mr. Thomas, the notes on the board will not be on the test.” And with that, to everyone (especially to the Marauder’s) surprise, was the end of that. “She recognized it, alright, and then looked around for me!” Sirius whispered to the others in shock. “It’s like she knew we were here!” The rest of the day, the Marauders were too afraid to pull any more old pranks, for they were almost certain that McGonagall knew. And they knew that if McGonagall knew, then Dumbledore knew. They were quite interested in Harry and his friends, however, and learned a lot about them. James was particularly amused when a pale, blonde haired boy, resembling a boy from his own time period, confronted the group. “Still crying, Potter, over the dead escaped convict?” the boy sneered. The Marauders instantly recognized him, as he could only be the son of Lucius Malfoy, a Slytherin in their year. Harry froze at these words. How dare Malfoy insult Sirius like that, he thought angrily, all the pain of his godfather‘s death returning quickly. Hermione and Ron stopped as well. Ginny, who had seen the group from down the hall, came over and joined them. Sirius, who had begun to like Harry immensely, wondered why Harry was crying over a dead escaped convict. Certainly James’s son wouldn’t be a cry-baby! He was shocked at this thought. “Oh yea, that’s right, he was your godfather…” Malfoy pretended to speak in a concerned tone, as if this loss had hurt him too. With these words, Harry whipped out his wand and pointed it at Malfoy’s head. “Shut up, Malfoy!” Harry hissed, and Ron, Hermione, and Ginny also took out their wands. The two big blokes standing behind Malfoy did not take out their wands, but instead flexed their muscles. The Marauders, who happened to be standing between the two groups, decided if a duel (or a boxing match, by the look of the two big guys) was to break out, it would be a good idea to move out of the way when it began. Just then Snape strode across the hallway to see what was going on. James fought a large desire to trip him as he walked by. “Fighting in the halls, are we Potter?” He smiled an oily smile that was one of great dislike. “Ten points from Gryffindor, for each of you!” He grinned even more broadly, extending it for Ron, Hermione, and Ginny. Malfoy smirked and set off with his two body guards, leaving them alone. “Malfoy provoked me, Professor!” Harry spoke up, speaking fiercely to Snape. “Talking about a certain convict who was dead…” If Harry had hoped that these words about Sirius would have done anything, he was sorely mistaken. The Marauders watched in curiosity, association with dead convicts sounded like it had been fun. Apparently Harry and his friends had adventures from time to time. “Fifty points from Gryffindor! Now get out of my sight, Potter!” Snape shouted, causing Harry to jump. And with that, Snape began to head for the dungeons. James couldn’t take it, he stuck out his foot right as Snape passed them. His fall was magnificent. “Maybe next time I will send a flock of flamingos on you!” Harry shouted, equally angry, but very amused at Snape’s lack of grace. But something else caught his eye. Snape lay sprawled in the middle of the hallway, and Ron and Hermione were clinging to each other, they were laughing so hard. Harry was not looking at Snape, but at the group of people who seemed to have suddenly materialized in the hall. James looked down and saw the invisibility cloak caught with Snape’s feet. Harry simply stared at them. The Marauders were no longer invisible… Snape carefully picked himself up, and James suddenly had an idea. He whispered the same charm that Sirius had used in Trasfiguration class so that they would be ignored. Snape wheeled around, ignoring the Marauders, to face Harry. Harry was not looking at Snape, rather at the Maruaders standing behind him. He couldn’t ignore them because he already knew they were there. “How dare you trip me!” Snape hollered before storming off to the dungeons. Ron, Hermione, and Ginny watched him as he disappeared around the corner, but Harry now was pointing open mouthed at the group of people, having just recognized who they were. A/N: IF YOU READ CHAPTER 3 BEFORE THIS ONE, GO BACK AND REREAD CH 3 BECAUSE IT HAS BEEN UPDATED AND REDONE A LITTLE!!! Thank you!
Track This Story: Feed
Write a Review
JOIN HARRY POTTER FANFICTION
Get access to every new feature the moment it comes out.Register Today!