I slowly lift my head from my fluffy pillow and look over at the culprit of the noise; the window. Someone’s out there, tapping on the glass. The rest of the Gryffindor seventh year girls awake as well and slowly make their way to the window. Lily Evans gets there first. She exclaims, “James!”
Ah, the culprit is revealed.
I groggily sit up in bed and look at the clock. It 1:30 AM on Tuesday morning. Doesn’t James Potter understand that you have to actually sleep to do well in school? Let my rephrase that—that I need to sleep to wake up for school?
I sigh and mumble to myself about nightly disturbances and beauty sleep and make my way downstairs to the Common Room, tailing my red comforter after me. The Common Room’s empty and at first I’m surprised. But then I remember its 1:30 in the morning; I should be surprised if it wasn’t empty.
I flop down on the couch closest to the fireplace and pull my comforter over my tired body. I watch the dying embers in the fire for a few minutes before my eyes start getting heavy. I find my thoughts drifting…drifting…
“James!” My eyes snap open. The scream is followed by a chorus of laughter. How pathetic; I left so I could go back to sleep instead of listening to Hogwarts’ Cutest Couple and a band of Giggling Girls, but I can’t seem to escape them. Ugh.
I take my pillow and pull it over my head, hoping to drown out the sound. Well, it doesn’t exactly drown it out but at least it’s muffled it somewhat. I close my eyes once again and will myself to go back to sleep.
“Where is he?” Someone whispers. The voice sounds high and squeaky, but definitely excited.
“Up in the girls’ dorm.” Another voice speaks, sure and deep.
“Really?” The first voice again. “How did he do that?”
“Broomstick.” I know that voice. That’s Remus Lupin’s voice.
I take the pillow off my head realizing sleep is not an option right now. Fate just won’t let me have it. I sit up and look around. I keep myself hidden in the couch as I see three figures across the room—Sirius Black, Peter Pettigrew, and Remus Lupin—huddled together at the foot of the girls’ dorms.
Twenty seconds later, a figure emerges, coming down the girls’ dorm stairway. It’s James Potter. Speak of the devil. James has his infamous smirk on his face, and from what it looks like from here, lipstick on his cheek. A lipstick kiss.
“So...” Sirius asks, his eyebrows wiggling. “What happened?”
James’ smirk doesn’t falter as he sits down on a near couch, the other three boys following. “Well,” he starts. “I tapped on the window, and when the girls’ opened the window I read that poem you helped me write Sirius. She loved it!”
Sirius helped James write the poem? I’m sure if Lily knew that she wouldn’t think of it as being so romantic.
Remus seemed to feel the same way, for he frowned. “Sirius wrote the poem? I thought you said you wrote it.”
Only now did James’ smirk fade slightly. “Sirius wrote some of it.” He said. “Ouch!” he yelled, for Sirius had smacked him on the arm.
“I did not write ‘some’ of it!”
“Okay, okay.” James held up his hands in defeat. “I only wrote the first line.”
“Whoa!” Peter exclaimed, jumping up off the couch. “And she fell for it? Awesome!”
Peter held up his hand for a high-five, put Remus pulled it down. “That’s not awesome, Peter.” Remus faced James with a glare. “Prongs, I know you want to impress Lily and show her you can be romantic, but I don’t think lying will help very much. She probably would have even loved it if it was horrible, just if it showed you cared.”
“Yeah, Prongs,” Said Sirius. I noticed over the years they called eachother different nicknames; must be some guy thing.
“And you, Padfoot.” Remus turned to Sirius, “You should have known better.”
“Yeah, yeah.” Sirius replied, rubbing his arms. “Is anyone else cold? I think I’m going to get the fire started.” This is probably just a way to stop Remus from staring at him.
Oh no. I’m like seven feet away from the fireplace.
I hold my breath as Sirius crosses the room to start the fire. He points his wand at the ash and a new flame, warm and flickering, ignites. I’m instantly grateful because I’ve only just realized how chilly it is down here at two in the morning.
You know how, when someone passes you by, a breeze seems to pass you filled with their scent? Well, that’s exactly what happens when Sirius passes me. The weird part is that my nose starts to tingle, courtesy of my allergies, and I sneeze. Funny, I thought I smelled dog.
All four heads snap in my direction as I sneeze. My cheeks flush; it’s my luck that I would get caught.
“How long have you been there?” James asks, as they walk towards my couch.
What a stupid question, I couldn’t have come down here while you were sitting there, you would have noticed, sitting in front of the stairway like that. But I don’t say that. “About a half hour, I guess.”
“And how much did you hear?” he asks.
I think about telling them I was asleep until I sneezed, but I don’t want to lie. “Everything,” I answer.
The boys look at eachother for a moment, before Sirius speaks. “And you, Miss—?”
“Huntington. Rebecca Huntington.”
“Right, Miss Huntington. You won’t tell anyone what you’ve heard, right?” he asks. “You’ve just witnessed a Secret Marauder Discussion. The information is confidential.”
“But it’s not confidential anymore if she just heard it.” Peter pipes up, only to get smacked across the head.
“I promise I won’t tell, really.” I stand to get up and meet Remus’ warm, friendly eyes. I turn to James. “And I agree with Remus. You should have written the poem yourself.”
“I know, I know.” James mumbles as he makes his way up the boys’ staircase. Peter follows suit. I shrug at Remus and also make my way back towards my comfy bed.
When I’m almost there, a voice halts my steps. “Hey, wait. You forgot this.”
Sirius rushes up to me, holding my comforter. Before I notice what I’m doing, I look into Sirius’ eyes. Oh, no. It’s just as I feared. My stomach does flip-flops, my heart pounds. He has the most beautiful, intriguing dark eyes I’ve ever seen, and the Black Death takes hold.
“No problem.” He shrugs and heads up to bed. I notice Remus is still here and he walks over to me, his face impassive.
“You know, I meant to ask you how Leila is doing.”
“She’s fine.” I still feel fuzzy, out of it.
“That’s good. She’s going to be a healer, correct?”
“Yeah, that’s right.”
“Well, I was just wondering…since Leila’s graduated, maybe you wanted to sit with us at lunch?” he grins at me, and this relaxes me a bit.
“Is this a pity invite?” I tease.
“No, not at all.” He smiles. “I was just thinking, since you know a big Marauder secret…” he lets the sentence fall, nudging me in the side.
“Sure,” I say. “I guess so.”
“Cool,” Remus says, walking backwards towards the boys’ staircase. “See you tomorrow, then.”
As I make my way up to bed, I think of the definition of ‘Marauder’, which is an intruder, a prowler. And I think to myself, have I let two Marauders intrude into my life, in a matter of seconds?
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