The Marauders: Year Three | #Wattys2016

Do You Reckon

Do You Reckon

Sirius and James were running down the third floor corridor, away from Filch, who the Marauder's Map showed was coming up behind them, just a couple turns away. They dove behind the tapestry and fell into the darkness of the Trophy Room passageway, tearing the invisibility cloak off and falling to the floor. According to the Map, illuminated only by James's flashing wand tip, they'd only just made it. Filch was just turning the corner of the hall they'd just left, and Mrs. Norris was with him.

"Damn you!" Filch's voice echoed just outside the tapestry. James and Sirius covered their mouths to keep from laughing outloud and giving away their position. Outside, Filch was panting and clutching his knees as his old legs burned and looking up and down the empty corridor, wondering where they'd gotten to. "Damn boys! You're lucky Dumbledore's done away with chains! I'd whip you raw!" He grumbled and turned away, muttering to his cat all the nasty things he'd do if only Dumbledore hadn't taken away his devices.

James and Sirius waited in silence, listening for the sound of Filch's footsteps to fade off entirely before dissolving into out-of-breath laughter. "Blimey for an old codger that Filch sure can run!" gasped James raspily, wiping tears of humor out of his eyes.

"Oh don't you know it!" Sirius agreed, snorting, "I swear, I might've die from running related injuries if we didn't get here when we did."

"I'm actually dizzy from that," James agreed.

"Me, too," Sirius said, nodding solemnly.

"But it's worth it," James snickered. "Merlin's beard. Filch will never get that cleared up before morning."

After running too see McGonagall to appeal Slughorn's decision to schedule detention for his entire third year Potions class, and being denied, they'd agreed they needed to strike back and get revenge on the Slytherins. So it had been off to the library to locate some truly awful spell that they could use to get them back. James and Sirius had spent far much more time seeking some insidious way of attacking the Slytherins than they'd ever spent in studying for homework. But they'd finally found it - or rather James had found it. The spell was brilliant - a transfiguration spell James located in the depths of some old dusty book - and he'd memorized it and the wand motion with a zeal unmatched by any he'd had for anything else - except, perhaps Evans or Quidditch...

Remus had flat out refused to go along to set the spell, saying that getting revenge was just as bad as what the Slytherins had done, and Peter had said he was sleepy and couldn't they seek revenge tomorrow night? To which Sirius had announced that he at least was going, whether the others wanted to or not - and James had agreed.

They'd snuck down though the castle to the dungeons then, together under James's invisibility cloak, and James had excitedly cast the spell, turning the carpet before the Slytherin common room doorway into a murky, messy, muddy swamp, complete with cat-o-nine tails and bullfrogs.

"Imagine what all the Slytherins' faces will look like when they find a ruddy swamp blocking them into their stupid common room?"

Sirius grinned, "Oh to be a bowtruckle on the wall when they do!"

"Still can't believe that's a spell," James laughed, shaking his head. "What good could it possibly serve?"

"No good, obviously, as that's what we're up to." Sirius winked.

"I suppose it's going to serve the purpose of blocking the stupid gits in!" James said.

"It's a good one, James," Sirius said, grinning. "I'm forever in your debt. Those little snotgrass-weasels deserve something horrid happening to them after how they've treated Remus."