A Day For Fools
R, 1400 words
Summary: Plotted pranks, a Lily Evans scorned, James trying to resist peer pressure and someone ending up with very blue balls indeed.
April 1st, 1975. Midnight.
‘Right, men, this is it. At 12:01 am, the most monumental day in all of Hogwarts history has dawned.’
Sirius reached under his bed and pulled out four thick envelopes, distributing them with ceremony. Each was embossed with their marauder’s moniker in scarlet, creating a suitable aura of drama.
‘Messrs. Wormtail and Moony, your mission briefs are enclosed therein. Memorise the contents, then destroy the evidence,’ James proclaimed.
‘Remus, don’t look so horrified! Fear not, you are not required to break a single rule,’ said Sirius hastily.
‘Actually…’ James muttered.
‘Alright, so you have to navigate around the rules a little bit,’ conceded Sirius.
‘Not to worry, Padfoot – this I can manage,’ grinned Remus, putting his lit wand to one corner of the document and burning it. ‘I assume part of the plan is for me to know nothing past this?’
‘Ignorance is bliss,’ replied James, before grabbing his Cloak and disappearing out of the dormitory.
‘Err, Sirius?’ asked Peter. ‘Is it ok if I hang on to this until the morning? I’m not sure I can remember everything.’
Sirius attempted to sigh quietly, but didn’t quite manage it. ‘Fine, fine.’ He checked his watch, and declared with renewed vigour. ‘Right – to bed! The cause demands you be fully rested for the morning.’
April 1st, 1972. Morning.
When Remus woke up to find a huge enchanted face of McGonagall staring down at him from the ceiling, he was unsure whether to feel frightened, disturbed or oddly flattered.
Cautiously, he hefted himself up in bed.
‘Mr Lupin!’ came the clipped tones of his Head of House. ‘Kindly make your appearance at least a little respectable this instant!’
Once he’d managed to start his heart beating again, his eyes narrowed. There was only one way to respond to this sort of behaviour – revenge. Remus reached down beneath his bed and pulled out a notebook where he jotted down bits of spells that he thought were interesting. He found one spell that promised to fill the victim’s head with phantom voices for the entire day.
Perfect. He channelled the sneering sound of Severus Snape and sent it over post haste to James and Sirius, and then to Peter after a moment’s thought.
His following evil mastermind grin would have struck terror into the heart of any boy, Gryffindor or not.
April 1st, 1976. Afternoon.
It took until two o’clock for the wrath of Lily Evans to find its victims. She flew into the common room with blazing eyes that could probably Stun from 20 paces.
‘You are going to fix it right now,’ she hissed. ‘Dammit, at least one prefect around here is going to do their job,’ she said, glaring at Remus, who flinched.
Sirius leapt up, nettled. ‘All right, Evans, keep your knickers on. There’s no need to act you like you’ve got a Quaffle up your arse all the time, you know.’
James, Peter and Remus all stared at Sirius in a mixture of fury, shock, awe and fear. Sirius’ eyes widened as he realised that the line he had crossed was so far in the distance he could barely see it.
‘Um,’ he said. ‘That was… a bit harsh. Sorry. But c’mon, they’re Slytherins.’
Wincing, Sirius watched Lily’s hand clench convulsively. When she next spoke, her voice was so icy Sirius almost felt his balls shrivel up and die right there.
‘Fix it. Right. Now.’
In a flash, she was gone. There’s a terrible, foot-shuffling, ceiling-gazing, lip-biting pause. Then Sirius, feeling sheepish, spoke.
‘Guess we’d better sort it out, then.’
He looked around, but Peter vigorously shook his head, and James was apparently Petrified. Remus got up wearily.
‘This is going to be fun,’ he said.
‘It was worth it, though. Even if I have learnt far, far more about many members of my family than I ever wished to,’ shuddered Sirius.
‘Narcissa and leather. Who knew?’
‘Don’t. Just… don’t.’
Remus grinned, and subtly linked two fingers into Sirius’ hand. ‘Thanks for sticking up for me, my brave protector.’
‘Not at all, answering the cries of Moonys in distress everywhere.’
April 1st, 1978. Night.
‘The whole day and he didn’t crack,’ murmured Peter in wonder. ‘Ok Moony, I’ll pay up.’
‘Wait!’ said Sirius. ‘The day is not over yet. I still have a couple of tricks up my sleeve.’
‘If you can get him to give in now, I’ll be very impressed,’ Peter replied.
‘In that case, I shall consider it a challenge.’
‘Peter. Sirius. Remus. Will all of you please shut up? I won, and now I want to go to sleep,’ came the voice of a very grumpy James.
‘That doesn’t it,’ announced Sirius. ‘Remus, come here.’
Remus didn’t actually have a choice in the matter as he was yanked out of his nice and warm and alone bed and dragged into Sirius’ bohemian boudoir. Well, it was trying to be bohemian, and that was something.
‘Oh, Moony,’ crooned Sirius. ‘Now here we are, finally alone. I’ve been waiting all day.’
Remus stayed very still, afraid of making any sudden movements. It sounded like Peter had just rammed his head under a pillow. It is very, very quiet from James’ side of the room.
‘Mm,’ continues Sirius, ‘I’ve been thinking about you all day. Watching you, in lessons, writing with that quill, mm.’
It was a stroke of brilliance, really. Peter was humming very loudly to himself, but there was still no reaction from James. Remus, in the meantime, was part amused, and part turned on in a terrified sort of way. He eyed Sirius, nodding to up the ante.
Sirius grinned and grabbed his sheets, rustling them around enthusiastically. Feeling daring, Remus attempted a seductive murmur.
‘Oh Siri,’ he giggled, startling himself in the process. He could feel Sirius’ hand spasm, probably in horror.
Encouraged, Sirius marched on. ‘I just couldn’t stop thinking about all of the things I wanted to do to you, how I wanted to kiss you all over, baby.’
Remus’ intestines staged a protest and took cover. This was awful, yet strangely compelling – rather like a train crash.
‘Dammit,’ hissed Sirius in his ear, ‘why isn’t this working?’
Then Remus heard a gasp, and knew Sirius had been visited by the devil of inspiration.
‘My Remykins, I have been thinking, and I was, err, wondering…’ he said with a coy tone that was a sure sign of imminent danger. ‘And maybe, if you were ok with it, we could, err, well, bring someone else into bed? I’d just love to see you sucking someone else off, letting someone else fuck you…’
Remus, who was doing a stunning impression of a burned grindylow, tried hard not to splutter. ‘Who did you have in mind?’ he managed, memo-ing himself to have serious words with Messr. Padfoot tomorrow about boundaries, and jokes taken too far, and appropriate and inappropriate nicknames.
‘Oh, I reckon Prongs’d probably be up for it,’ Sirius replied chirpily.
BAM! The bed thudded as hundreds of vicious birds swarmed in from a definitely James-esque direction. A wand jabbed in through the curtains.
‘Sirius Black, I am going to hang, draw and quarter you. Now, for the love of all things good and decent in the world, will you shut up about your degenerate and quite frankly disturbing sex life and let me get some sleep. Moony,’ James concluded, almost as an afterthought, ‘I am also going to have to throttle you.’
‘Alright,’ conceded Remus, after the tirade had ended and James had withdrawn again, ‘I’d say you win. I’ll dig up the gold in the morning.’
‘And this is why, Moony, you should never bet against me. Now, where were we?’ said Sirius with a quick silencing flick of his wand.
Remus leant in, pushing Sirius back onto the bed. After a moment, he spoke.
‘Well, good night then, Padfoot – pleasant dreams!’ Remus tucked the sheets in around Sirius and patted his pillow.
‘Oh, darling, I’ve got a headache.’ Remus stood up to saunter back to his own bed, pausing to whisper a ‘Happy April Fools’ Day!’ into Sirius’ ear.
‘No! Come back here, you bastard! Why would you do that? Oh, bollocks, I can’t even sit up. You tosser, your filthy Dark Creature! Moony, please, come back! Oh, you wanker – I’m going to get you for this!’