Casanova (Male Oc Insert)

Marauders

The next morning, anticipation electrified the air as my brother James and I bounced out of bed, our excitement making it impossible to sit still. We tiptoed through the dim corridors, keen to wake everyone up early. What awaited us in the great hall was the fruition of our late-night brainstorming sessions, and we wanted every moment of it. To our delight, we were the very first ones to arrive in the vast, echoing hall, the sunlight streaming through the high windows, illuminating the long tables and empty benches.

A few Ravenclaw students wandered in shortly after, their faces buried deep in hefty textbooks, seemingly oblivious to the brewing excitement around us. "Perfect," Sirius exclaimed with a gleam in his eyes when he spotted the untouched front row seats, “Front row seats for the show!”

“Bet no one else will show up for hours,” Peter complained, still half-asleep as he propped himself up on his elbows, yawning widely.

“Oh, cheer up!” James replied enthusiastically, bustling about as he brewed them all large mugs of steaming tea. “Don’t you want to witness the fruits of our labour?”

“Not at six in the morning,” Peter mumbled, taking a reluctant sip. Sirius grimaced at the sound of Peter slurping and pushed a plate of toast towards him, “Have some toast and stop whinging.”

Fortunately, our wait didn't stretch out for long; soon the other students began to trickle in for breakfast. The first group of Slytherins arrived just as Remus polished off his toast. Five of them shuffled over to their table, blissfully unaware of the eager Gryffindor eyes fixed on them. For a moment, it seemed as if nothing was amiss, as they settled into their seats. Sirius sighed, a hint of disappointment creeping into his voice.

But then, the tallest boy leaned awkwardly in his chair, rubbing at his arm as if it itched. Another dug his hands into his pockets, but from our vantage point, it was clear he was scratching furiously at his leg, and the third boy kept using his wand to scratch behind his ear.

“It worked!” James whispered, barely able to contain his excitement, his eyes wide.

Even Peter, who had initially been grumpy, seemed to perk up at the unfolding scene. As more Slytherins filtered in, the bizarre plight of their group became more pronounced—and undeniably hilarious. By seven o’clock, the Slytherin table had transformed into a chaotic scene of squirming, writhing boys fidgeting uncomfortably while the girls looked on with mixed expressions of horror and disbelief.

Amycus Carrow, a burly sixth-year who usually exuded confidence, was red-faced and frustrated, ultimately shedding his robes, school jumper, and tie in a desperate bid to claw at his irritated chest. But the pièce de résistance walked in just after him—Severus Snape. Whether it was mere karma or extraordinary luck, Severus seemed particularly afflicted by the rosehip seeds we had sprinkled about. His hair hung limply over his face as he entered, but even through the curtain of strands, we could see that his nose was a bright shade of red.

“Oh, Merlin!” Sirius wheezed, laughter spilling from him so forcefully that he clutched his stomach as it threatened to burst. “Tell me we got his face!”

“Oi, Snivellus!” James called out suddenly, his voice slicing through the hall to grab Snape’s attention.

The dark-haired boy turned, his head snapping up; his greasy hair parted to reveal the left side of his face covered in an angry red rash that trailed down his neck, disappearing into the collar of his uniform. His left eye was similarly afflicted, swollen and irritated.

“Looking good!” Sirius crowed triumphantly as all four boys erupted into uncontrollable giggles, watching as Snape glowered at them before storming out of the great hall, the unmistakable look of humiliation on his face.

As breakfast wore on, it felt as if excitement buzzed through the entire castle; whispers and rumours abounded, each student trying to piece together what had so effectively disrupted the Slytherins’ morning. James and Sirius wore expressions of pure jubilation as if they’d just received the best gift imaginable, and even Peter had cheered up considerably, reminding them that he had been the lookout, after all, making their elaborate prank possible.

“It was all Lupin’s idea, though,” Sirius said, playfully thumping Remus on the back. “What shall we do to celebrate, eh? Exploding Snap? Raid the kitchens?”

“Well, whatever you do, you’re doing it without me,” Remus replied, his usual calm demeanour returning. “I’ve got double detention.”

“From Slughorn?” James asked incredulously.

“Yeah, and McGonagall. Though tomorrow I must face Flitwick too. My Herbology detention is scheduled for the weekend,” Remus added, a hint of exasperation creeping into his voice.

“Bloody hell, mate,” James frowned, concern etched on his face. “Are you going for a record or something?”

“Maybe you should start doing your homework?” Sirius prodded gently.

Rolling his eyes, Remus stood up from the table. “C’mon, it’s Defence Against the Dark Arts first. You three claim to love that class.”

He strode into the common room and flopped down next to Sirius, across from me. “That was quick!” I remarked, surprised at how fast he had made it back.

“Only had to do one in the end,” Remus explained, a grin creeping onto his face. “Slughorn let me off, saying he was too busy trying to handle all the fallout from the itching powder fiasco.”

Sirius leaned back on the couch, a broad grin plastered across his face. “That prank is just the gift that keeps on giving,” he said, relishing the moment.

“Told you, Snape’s suffering. I heard from that ginger girl he’s been stuck in the hospital wing all day,” Remus teased, a smirk tugging at his lips.

“Which ginger girl?” James perked up, suddenly interested.

“You know, the annoying one—Evans,” Remus said, waggling his eyebrows.

“I don’t think she’s annoying,” James protested, a defensive note creeping into his tone.

“Okay,” Remus replied, his eyes dancing with mischief. “Does Jamesy have a little crush?” I added, trying to suppress my laughter.

“Shut up, lion boy,” James replied, shooting me a look that only made the humour in the room grow.

“They don’t know it was us, do they?” Peter asked nervously as he began to tidy away his chess set, a hint of worry in his voice.

“Slughorn reckons it was a Slytherin girl. He also mentioned a gang of marauders,” Remus answered, a gleam in his eye.

“Marauders!” Sirius exclaimed, suddenly sitting up straight as if struck by a brilliant idea. “That’s it! Raise your imaginary glasses, boys!”

“But we don’t have glasses!” James replied, amusement dancing in his eyes.

“Well, just pretend!” Sirius insisted, shaking his head in mock irritation. “From this day forward, we are The Marauders!”

He declared this with a dramatic flourish that left suspended silence in its wake. I raised my imaginary glass high, James beamed as he joined in, and Peter looked over at him, still not quite understanding the gravity of the moment. Remus broke into laughter, “What sort of poncey gang name is that?!”