"I write her a letter
just a few short lines,
and suffer death
a thousand times."
Asteria O'Connor, sole heir of a prestigious wizarding family,
has other plans when the self-proclaimed Marauders decide to
torment her and her housemates.
It's abo...
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sirius
"Padfoot, move your hole."
"Apologies Moony, but Mr. Ah-Sure-Don't-Worry-Lads-We'll-Be-In-And-Out-Lickity-Split ahead of me is taking his fucking time."
"You can't rush safety precautions," James whisper-yells back at us as he makes sure to check around every single bloody corner.
All four of us carry piles of Honeyduke's sweets in our arms, as well as it being stuffed into practically every pocket we could find in our uniforms. We're now all giving ourselves future back-related injuries as we bend awkwardly to try fit through the tunnel from the basement of Honeydukes to the one eyed witch statue situated on the third floor. It was a lot easier when we were thirteen. Even though we're in our sixth year, carrying bucketloads of sweets back to our dorm will forever tie us to our youth and will more than likely continue until we're all old and grey.
"Yes but you actually can rush, Prongs," nervously gushes Peter from the back of the group. "If we're gone too long we'll miss all of Potions and then we'll be in massive trouble."
"Fine," grumbles the leader at the top of the group. "But if we get caught in this tunnel it's all on you lot."
Despite James' words, he still insists on being just as careful, resulting in Snivellus telling McGonagall that we mitched off Potions. We try to play the werewolf card by explaining that Remus felt faint and we had to take him to the Hospital Wing. However she had just been having her lunchtime with none other than Madame Pomfrey.
That is the reason why we're spending the next week picking up rubbish from the school grounds, and instead of using magic we have to do it as if we're bloody Filch. He seemed delighted when he handed us the sweeping brushes, rakes and gloves. He was probably imagining hanging us from the ceilings or tarring and feathering us or some other medieval punishments like that.
"C'mon Prongs, the quicker we get it done, the faster we can go," Pete quips with a red face as he sits up straight from his hunched over position on the floor, covered in a light sheen of sweat much like the rest of us. The black eye that Mulciber gave him is still prominent but less noticeable with all the colour in his face.
I make Remus chuckle as I mime combing my hair with the large blue rake. He shakes his head with a smile and gets back to work.
"I mean, since when were the grounds ever this messy?" James complains. "I bet they got bloody Filch to throw all the rubbish he can on the lawns today. I mean seriously, all this for missing one class of sitting next to people we hate."
"Ah Prongsy," I call from my position, "we'll have to check you soon for any sex related diseases you may have caught off O'Connor."
James laughs as Peter retorts, "I'm sure we'll all know the names of these diseases from your prescriptions, Sirius."
