Marauder crack

P of Perfect

The evening falls when Dumbledore finds him in the Owlery. The professor wants to send a letter to the Ministry, and Remus is glad to have sent the letter to Sirius before meeting him because he doubts that he would have had the strength to do it in front of Dumbledore. Sure he would know what is written in it just by looking into his eyes.

- Remus! - The director seems happy. - I've been looking for you for a while.

- You will say, professor.

What he has to say to him only takes thirty seconds, but the answer is NO.

- Sir, I don't think that's a good idea.

The answer is NO WAY, no matter how much Dumbledore insists.

- Really, professor, you could offer it to someone else, more qualified for the job...

If he were Sirius, Remus would answer NOT IN A FUCKING MILLION YEARS and Dumbledore would have no choice but to shut up and let him in peace. He goes without saying that Remus is not Sirius and that he has certain problems saying "no".

-I really appreciate it, Headmaster Dumbledore, but I don't think I'm the appropriate person for the position.

But Dumbledore thinks so. He believes it because Thomas Medley is not going to join his obligations at school next year due to some problem with a poppy potion that should never have reached His hands and that now will keep him sleeping for six months three weeks and two days in St Mungo's Sleep Accident Room. And that leaves Gryffindor without a prefect.

- You are a person with authority, Lupin, and it will not hurt someone who keeps a close eye on his friends. Who's better than you?

- Well...

- Talk no more, Remus.

And there is nothing more to talk.

Sirius, James, and Peter are illegal animagus, they run away from school with the full moon, they have hidden an invisibility cloak, they have made a map to control the school, they have the key to the Prohibited Section of the library, and the kitchen elves blackmailed into feeding anyone of them at any time of day and night. But yeah, sure, surely the fact that hisroommate is a prefect will serve as a measure of control.

"Wait for Sirius to find out..." he mutters to himself.

"They will laugh so much at me that they'll start in September and in June still they will be drying their tears".