016. june 1976.

June 6, 1976 — noonish.
Hogwarts, Scotland
The Great Hall


This past week has probably been about the best part of Fifth Year for James Potter. Not even since their Third Year (and possibly some of Fourth) had the Marauders managed to pull off such a flawless stream of pranks, certainly not one for each day of the week.

There had been no resistance, no lecture, no threat of a lecture, and no points taken from Gryffindor house. Just laughter. A whole bloody lot of brilliant, brilliant laughter.

James feels like himself again, just as Sirius said he would.

He's started to wonder why he ever bothered with Lily Evans, with 'growing up', and trying to get himself involved with all that serious rubbish.

Why bother doing any of that when one can simply have a laugh — and make others laugh — instead?

Why bother when there was Snivellus Snape to prank?

James is glad he joined in. By Tuesday, his participation is wholehearted as he revises and devises ways to maximize the effectiveness of each day's prank.

And all of it feels fantastic.

But alas, all good things must come to an end. It is but a bitter truth.

As the last school week of the year draws to a close, bringing in the weekend before every Fifth Year student takes their OWLs, so must the pranks.

Saturday's self-imposed wedgies turn out to be hilarious. In between study-breaks and mealtimes, every student around the school has caught sight of the uncomfortable, scrunched up, downright constipated look on Snivellus' face as he tries his absolute best not to pick at his underpants and readjust himself. It has brought nothing but tears of laughter to James' and nearly all the rest of the school's eyes.

Now, on Sunday, James and Sirius find Remus and Peter in the Great Hall, where the latter two are revising their notes for their first exam on Monday: Charms.

James settles himself next to Peter, while Sirius plunks himself in the empty spot beside Remus.

"Happy Sunday, you two," James says cheerfully.

"Happy?" Peter repeats, looking at him despairingly. "I feel anything but happy. We've got Charms tomorrow. Charms."

"You are rather rubbish at Charms, Pete," Sirius says obligingly. He pulls a familiar sheet of parchment from his pocket. It has, with the days gone past, become a little worn.

James' eyes light up immediately. "We're just about to break into the Slytherin team's broom closet," he says, lowering his voice. "So, I do hope you boys are ready —"

Remus holds up a hand and looks from James to Sirius. "I'm afraid you two will have to do this last one on your own," he says. "In case you hadn't heard, we've got our Charms OWL tomorrow, and I would really like not to bugger it up."

"Oh, come on Remus, you've got to help us with this last one," Sirius whines.

"You both do. It's our last prank of the year. There's plenty of time to study afterward," James adds.

"No there isn't," Remus scoffs. "We've got less than twenty-four hours to revise for what is going to be a hellish week."

Sirius waves a hand. "You blokes are boring," he says.

"Well, unlike some, the rest of us have to study in order to get O's and we can't all spend our days taking the piss out of Sniv — out of Snape."

James sighs. "It pains me, Moony, that you and Wormtail won't be joining us."

"I wish I could, James," Peter says, looking like he might cry, "but ... Charms."

"Right. Well, no time to waste, then." Sirius turns to James and jerks his head towards the door. "Ready to go?"

James nods, giving Peter a sympathetic pat on the shoulder as he gets to his feet. "Wouldn't miss it for the world," he says.


---


A little more than an hour later, James and Sirius return to the Great Hall looking absolutely chuffed.

James puts his wand away.

"It's as though we've both been doused in Felix Felicis," Sirius says gleefully, sitting by James this time.

"I know! It's brilliant," James says, equally as cheerful.

Remus and Peter both look up.

"Should I be worried?" asks Remus.

James grins. "Not at all, Moony. I can't say the same for Snivellus, though."

And at that moment, the greasy-haired teenager in question comes running into the hall, yelling.

Even amidst the chatter of students, it's difficult to miss the sight of Snape being chased into the space by five racing broomsticks. He turns around the Slytherin table as he reaches the end, clearly hoping to lose them through confusion.

It obviously doesn't work, certainly not on Quidditch racing brooms.

Students start to laugh. Nearly everyone's attention is on him now.

James is only disappointed that the entire school isn't here to see their ingenuity. Those flying charms couldn't have worked better if Flitwick himself cast them.

He exchanges a grin with Sirius, who grins right back.

Snape makes another turn before rushing back out of the hall and making for the left corridor, his robes billowing pathetically around him. As soon as he leaves, the Great Hall is bustling with talk of what had just happened.

"Did you see that?" a nearby Hufflepuff says, giggling.

"Was that Severus Snape?" another student asks.

"And were those broomsticks?"

"That was effing brilliant!" someone else says.

"How long is that charm supposed to last?" asks Remus, tapping his quill on the top of his Charms textbook to get their attention.

"Another five minutes, maybe?" James gathers, turning back to his friends. He tries not to look too happy with the reaction of the students around them. But it's terribly hard not to bask in it.

Sirius nods, looking the same. "I wanted ten, but in the end, we figured it might get old if it went on for too long."

"Hmm." Remus turns back to his work.

Peter is looking at them forlornly. "Bloody hell. Is that charm going to be on our OWL?" he asks.

017. 10 june 1976.

June 10, 1976 — mid-morning
Hogwarts, Scotland
The Lake

{ note: Most of the text/dialogue here has been taken from canon. }



The weather is brilliant, the sun is hot, and there happens to be more students outside than in — unless you happen to be one of the unfortunate ones taking an exam.

The Marauders emerge from the Great Hall, having just taken their Defence Against the Dark Arts theoretical exam. James and Sirius don't even bother to hide the fact that they're expecting O's; Remus feels confident enough to admit that he, too, is expecting a high grade. Peter is the only one who looks like he's about to faint when Sirius asks him what he'd put down for the 'werewolf question'.

They stop at the beech tree by the lakeside, throwing themselves down on the grass. Sirius starts to pluck bits of grass from the ground while James pulls out a small, golden ball from his pocket.

"Where'd you get that?" asks Sirius.

"Nicked it," James says, nonchalant.

He eyes him. "Right."

"Well, make sure March doesn't see you with it," says Remus, opening his book.

"I think me having the Snitch for a bit is honestly the least of anyone's worries," says James as he allows the Snitch to fly off to a certain point before expertly grabbing it at the last second.

"Put it away, will you," says Sirius. "You're making the rest of us look bad."

"If it bothers you," James says with a laugh, but he obliges.

Leaning back, Sirius lets out a sigh. "I'm bored."

"We've still got Transfiguration," says Remus. "If you're bored you could test me. Here ..." He holds out his textbook.

Sirius snorts. "I don't need to look at that rubbish," he says. "I know it all."

"This'll liven you up, Padfoot," says James quietly. "Look who it is ..."

Sirius turns his head. He goes very still as Remus puts his book down. James notes that he looks suddenly very much like the dog he can transform into, one that has just smelled his prey.

(Albeit terribly greasy prey.)

"Excellent," Sirius says, just as softly. "Snivellus."

Snape is on his feet, working to stow his OWL paper in his bag. He looks to be preoccupied enough, leaving the bushes to set off across the lawn.

Both Sirius and James stand up.

Remus and Peter remain sitting where they are. James is only vaguely aware that he is studying his text closely, though his eyes are not moving and a faint frown line has appeared between his eyebrows. Peter looks eagerly from Sirius and James to Snape as though he can sense that something really rather epic is about to happen.

(Well, he's right, isn't he.)

"All right, Snivellus?" says James loudly.

Snape whirls around, as though expecting them. James wouldn't really be surprised, after last week. He looks downright snappy, as though he and Sirius were a set of racing brooms set out to chase him about the lakeside. Snape's hand goes for the inside of his robes, his wand halfway into the air.

James, his own wand out just as quickly, shouts, "Expelliarmus!"

Snape's wand soars up into the air and falls with a soft thud into the grass behind him.

Sirius lets out a bark of laughter. "Impedimenta!" he shouts, pointing his wand at Snape, who proceeds to collapse rather pathetically, halfway through a dive for his own fallen wand.

Any of the surrounding students in the area turn to watch. Some of them have actually gotten to their feet to witness the scene a little closer. Some look apprehensive; others look like they're ready for quite a show.

Snape lies panting where he is, with his face planted to the grass. James and Sirius advance on him, wands still raised. James spares a glance over his shoulder at the girls by the water's edge as he goes. Peter is on his feet too, starting forward as though he, too, would like to get a better look at the events currently unfolding.

"How'd the exam go, Snivelly?" says James.

"I was watching him," says Sirius, "his nose travelling across the parchment. There'll be great grease marks all over it — they won't be able to read a word."

Several students watching start to laugh, Peter among them.

Snape tries to get up, struggling against the effects of the impediment jinx, his eyes full of bitter hatred. He glares up at them through the thickness of his greasy hair.

"You — wait," he sneers, staring up at James with those dark eyes the same way he had when he'd punched Regulus Black. "you — wait!"

"Wait for what, exactly?" says Sirius coolly. "What're you going to do, Snivelly, wipe your nose on us?"

Snape lets out a scream — it's a mixture of hexes and curse-words that'd make his mother send him a Howler — but with his wand ten feet away nothing happens.

"Wash out your mouth," says James coldly. "Scourgify!"

Pink soap bubbles stream from Snape's mouth at once. The froth covers his lips, making him gag, choking him —