The Marauders: Year Six #Wattys2017

The Owls

The Owls

The notice for the apparition classes went up on Monday morning.

All witches and wizards whose dates of birth fall prior to 23 December 1959 will be eligible to sign up for apparition classes beginning on X October 1976. Classes will be held in the Great Hall beginning at noon. Please see your head of house to sign up.

Minerva McGonagall looked up. She'd only posted the notice less than ten minutes before and already there was a knock upon her office door. She groaned. She knew without even opening the door precisely who it would be. "Come in, Mr. Black," she said warily.

The door opened and Sirius came in, a wide, excited smile upon his face, still wearing his sleep joggers and the ratty old Deep Purple shirt. He grinned as he arrived before McGonagall and leaned against the desk. "Minnie, darling, I'm here to --"

"Learn to apparate, yes," she said, "A rather disturbing notion -- Sirius Black. Apparating." McGonagall sighed heavily and withdrew a form from her desk drawer. "Here you are. The rules for the class."

Sirius smirked. "Ah yes. Rules. Important, they are."

McGonagall stared at him. "Yes. Important they are," she answered, her emphasis and tone differing from Sirius's. "If you are wise, Mr. Black, you will heed the rules entirely. A Ministry education official will be overseeing the lessons, and you will not be wanting to cross the Ministry again. I will not be able to stop any consequences you bring upon yourself again this time." She shook the form at him.

He took it, "Aye, aye Min-Min."

McGonagall watched him go - his grin still firmly in place - and shook her head, sighing again. "Bloody hell. Apparating Marauders. Godric help the nations!"

Back upstairs, Sirius waved his rules form about with pride. "I'm going to be fucking fabulous," he announced, "And you lot will only be able to watch with jealousy as I pop all about over holiday!"

James rolled his eyes, shoving Sirius's form away. "Bugger off, Black!"

Sirius grinned. "That's the point, inn'it? Me being able to bugger off to any place I like and you not being able to go after me."

"Well, I for one am very happy for you Padfoot," said Remus smiling. He bent forward and grabbed a bag from beneath his bed. "Here. Have a chocolate to celebrate." He opened a tray of bon-bons.

Sirius grabbed one, "Thanks! Don't mind if I do!" He tossed the chocolate in his mouth and chewed merrily.

Remus looked at James and shrugged.

"May I have one, Rey?" Peter asked, scrambling for one before Remus could answer. There was a bang and a flash of sparks and Peter's face had turned black with ash, his hair sticking up from the explosion. He stared, wide eyed with shock, and Remus covered his face as James stifled a laugh.

Sirius smirked. "You dummies think I can't tell the difference between an Exploding Bon-Bon and a standard chocolate? You're mad!" He patted Peter's shoulder. "Tough break, Wormtail."

Peter blinked, still stunned by the explosive bite he'd taken, his fringe smoking.

Dear Mr. P -
Hoping this letter finds you as well as you were last I saw you. Missing you and Mrs. P quite a lot - and Mrs. P's roast as well. The elves make roast of course but it is my humble opinion that it is simply not as fantastic as darling Mrs. P's.
I'm writing you with an inquiry, actually; something I am most desperate to find out more about. You see, as usual, we have a new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher this year - a man by the positively hideous name of Elphinstone Urquart. I'm told he attended Hogwarts about your time, along with Professor Minnie and a good deal of other professors and the like. Professor Elphindork as I call him behind his back is actually quite brilliant, I rather find him genius now, but we had a rocky start when he compared me to a girl that he mistakenly referred to as my mum - a girl you went to school with. Minnie refuses to speak of her, but she is a Black - a Black who's escaped the hideous house - and I should like to find her...
The girl's name is Mia Black - Euphemia, the yearbook says, actually. She was in your year, except sorted in Slytherin. It's such a mystery because it seems every photograph of her has been erased from every yearbook during her time at Hogwarts, and nobody seems to know what became of her.
Do you know?
I certainly hope so because the mystery is absolutely murder on me and Professor McGonagall refuses to speak of her at all. I really want to speak to this woman. I reckon it would be right helpful in the therapy I've been doing with Dorcas Meadowes.
Please owl me back when you can.
With a roast sandwich if you can spare one!
Love you.
Sirius