Whimsical {James Potter}

Chapter 11

Chapter 11: The Finest Detention

"...yes, yes. Very well." Slughorn peers around the potions classroom with his hands stuffed into the small pockets of his waistcoat. "I'll return in an hour and I expect you'll do a marvellous job." He nods firmly before meandering out of his own classroom.

Cressida shakes her head slowly at him. "What a strange man," she muses.

Sirius, her detention partner, only snorts. They had been split up over two rooms on opposite sides of the dungeons. Typically, first to fourth years use the lower-grade rooms and the fifth years and above have access to the advanced labs but this particular third-year potions class had to be moved as their mess couldn't be cleaned up in the span of ten minutes between classes.

James, Remus and Peter have been allocated the other potions classroom and no doubt, McGonagall had Sirius and James split up to prevent any further mishaps. However, none but the group themselves are aware of a small, enchanted tool they carry.

Cressida takes Sirius' cue and cracks open the door. Slughorn is nowhere in sight. "It's all clear."

Grinning like a panting dog, Sirius plants his behind on Slughorn's chair at the front desk, placing each foot onto the dark wood. He stretches his arms behind his head in a lazy manner. Usually, Cressida would berate him and work her charm to make him feel guilty enough to help out with detention, but he knows what she knows.

Pulling out the wand hidden under her jacket and tucked into the hemming of her school skirt, Cressida jumps onto the desk and knocks his legs away. Within a few charms, the broom in the far corner is brushing along the floor, things begin to replace themselves in storage and the marks on the floor begins to dissolve.

The pair watch on, smug at their actions. "Think we should check on the others?" Sirius ponders are ten or so minutes of doing nothing.

"He's going to be pissed," she warns, but nevertheless, heaves Sirius' bag off the floor for him. His dark hair hangs around his face as Sirius delves into his belongings, searching for the mirror.

"Yeah, it's going to be great," Sirius grins.

Being the only one with a wand in hand, Cressida taps the mirror with the wand as they both lean across the desk. "James," she summons. Their own reflections disappear, turning into a cloud of grey mist then into something else entirely.

She can hear their voices in the distance, but there is no movement in the mirror. Cressida realises that the mirror is lain down, facing the ceiling. "Oi, four-eyes!" Sirius hisses loudly.

They hear a quick scuffle and James calling out to the others. The image on the mirror jolts around, finally settling on their friend's face. "Aye," James greets. He shuffles around, liking finding a seat on one of the desks. "We are going to get this done so much quicker than you. Three against two."

"Didn't realise it was a competition," Cressida counters. "Besides, it's not like we get out early."

"Everything is a competition," James retorts. In the background, Cressida and Sirius can see Remus sweeping up broken glass and Peter scrubbing the stone with enough elbow grease to wear the entire thing away.

"Well first of all, it looks like it's still two against two," Sirius goads, noting James' lack of help like she has. "And second of all, we're done anyway."

James' eyes narrow, his nose scrunching in disbelief. "Bullshit," he cries. Cressida and Sirius glance at each other, only shrugging smugly before spinning the mirror around so he can see their spectacular work. As the mirror returns to their faces, Cressida laughs wildly at James' flabbergasted features and Remus and Peter's face over each of his shoulder's. "They took our wands! Well, all yours anyways. I must have lost mine in Filch's office somewhere. That's going to be fun trying to get back."