31 Days of Fic: Nineteen
A little late, but still -- here it is. An escape, an adventure, an explanation, and an unfortunate event.
May 19, 1976:
"Shh!" Sirius hisses. Behind him, Peter bumps into James who bumps into Remus, who pokes Sirius in the back with the sack-covered corner of Phineas Nigellus' frame. Dumbledore and McGonagall read the whole school a lecture when they realized that the portrait was missing, but as the long arm of the law has still failed to descend, Sirius feels safe in assuming that the other portraits are keeping quiet.
His main concern right now is getting them all past Filch, who is prowling restlessly near the portrait of Alexander the Awful that, if asked properly, will swing open to reveal a tunnel that leads to the edge of the Forest. Sirius' stomach is twisting with a combination of nerves and sheer delight, as if he's taking a particularly steep dive on his broom.
"Mr. Prongs," he whispers over his shoulder, "did you prepare Plan A?"
"Yes, Mr. Padfoot," James answers. "Plan A is prepared."
"Good. Initiate Plan A," Sirius hisses back, never taking his eyes off of Filch.
He hears James' murmur: "Loquorum et audium Peeves spiritus," then the back and forth of conversation. James finishes with: "Have we ever been short even one dungbomb? Do it, Peeves!"
The crash that follows moments later is distant, but still splendidly loud, and is followed rapidly by a second, third, and fourth. Peeves is probably throwing suits of armour down the stairs, Sirius thinks vaguely; then the four of them dash across the hall and into the tunnel.
"Thirty dungbombs," Peter says, shaking his head. "If Filch ever finds out that we're the ones who've been supplying Peeves, he'll skin us alive."
"We've got bigger worries now, mate," Sirius says cheerfully. "Think about what Dumbledore will do to us if he finds out we've stolen one of his portraits." From the strangled noise that Peter makes, this might not have been a helpful thing to say.
"Er -- right, then," Remus says. "Let's hurry, so that we can get Phineas back before the mass flayings commence."
***
The Forest is dark, and filled with shadows that linger worryingly on the edge between seductive and menacing. They seem to snatch at Sirius out of the corners of his vision, but when he looks directly at them, he sees nothing but an ominous, waiting stillness. He is not sure if it would be better to have all four of them cast Lumos, or worse. As it is, the light at the end of James' wand feels uncomfortably bright, like an intrusion.
"I don't like this," Peter says quietly. His voice echoes more than it should, and they all wince. No one else speaks, but judging by their expressions they feel much the same.
Sirius, though he'd rather not, can't help but agree. The Forest is especially unfriendly tonight, and the centaur's warning is ringing in his ears. They move as quickly as they can along the barely-existent path towards the clearing. Once or twice, Sirius changes form and runs ahead. Even as Padfoot, the Forest is unpleasantly silent. He gets the feeling that they are the only things alive and moving in the darkness, and he doesn't like it.
By the time they finally reach the clearing, his nerves are stretched to the breaking point, and when James comes up behind him and puts a hand on his back he nearly gets bitten for his trouble. Sirius changes back, and the four of them stand frozen for a moment, uncertain, before Sirius remembers that he's supposed to be in charge this time.
"Let's do this and get out of here," he murmurs. His voice, like Peter's, sounds far too loud in the stillness. "Wormtail, get Phineas out of the sack. Moony, cast Silencio on him the instant Wormtail gets him out. The last thing we want right now is Phineas Nigellus yelling his head off."
"All right," Remus agrees. Peter nods, with an apprehensive glance at the darkness edging them in. Between the two of them, Phineas is quickly out of his sack, Silenced, and glaring furiously at Sirius with an expression that demands an explanation.
"I need you to look at that box," Sirius tells him grimly. "I also need you not to shout. We're in the middle of the Forest, and if it looks like we're about to get eaten because of you, I'll set you on fire." He matches Phineas glare for glare, and has to hide his exultation when his painted ancestor gives him a grudging nod.
"Okay, Moony. You can take the Silencing Charm off now."
Phineas seems willing to content himself with another glare and a demand to be taken to the box and then back to Dumbledore's office. It's a quiet demand, though, so Sirius lets it pass.
"This way," Sirius says, and the four of them cross the clearing. Sirius parts the bushes until he sees the gleam of silver reflected in the light from James' wand, while Remus holds the portrait so that he can see, and Peter keeps a nervous watch on the encroaching shadows.
"Bugger," Phineas Nigellus says sharply, and they all jump.
"What?" Sirius asks. "What is it?"
"Not here," Phineas says. "The less time we spend out here, the better."
***
With Phineas Nigellus propped up at the end of Sirius' bed, and all of the lamps in the room blazing brightly, Sirius asks his question again.
"It's a Tempestas Locas Maleficus," Phineas says. "Or rather, part of one. The engraving on the box is unmistakable."
"What does it do?" Sirius asks impatiently, though he has the sinking feeling that he already knows.
"If properly cast," Phineas says, "it changes the weather for as large an area as the caster can make the spell cover. It also," he adds darkly, "tends to make any magical creatures in the affected area come over a bit... strange. Really, Sirius," he says, with a censorious glare; "your father must have mentioned this to you at least once. It's a basic principle of Dark magic."
"Doesn't mean I was paying attention," Sirius says sullenly, ignoring the inquiring look James is giving him.
"Of course not," Phineas sneers. "Salazar forbid that you learn something useful."
"Like the countercharm?" Remus asks.
"Or the fact that there is no countercharm," Phineas says. "Basic principle or no, casting that spell requires a great deal of strength and training. Undoing something like that takes a bit more than a Finite Incantatum."
Remus looked as if he were about to say something else, but at that moment, the bedroom door burst open. Silhouetted in the doorway is a slit-eyed, furious Professor McGonagall.
"Where have you been?" she demands, then catches sight of Phineas Nigellus. "What in Merlin's name is going on here?!"
***
( day eighteen)*(day twenty)
***
Author's Notes: Ta-da! Some sort of cohesion! An actual plot! I feel special.
As always, feedback is love. Tell me what you think.
May 19, 1976:
"Shh!" Sirius hisses. Behind him, Peter bumps into James who bumps into Remus, who pokes Sirius in the back with the sack-covered corner of Phineas Nigellus' frame. Dumbledore and McGonagall read the whole school a lecture when they realized that the portrait was missing, but as the long arm of the law has still failed to descend, Sirius feels safe in assuming that the other portraits are keeping quiet.
His main concern right now is getting them all past Filch, who is prowling restlessly near the portrait of Alexander the Awful that, if asked properly, will swing open to reveal a tunnel that leads to the edge of the Forest. Sirius' stomach is twisting with a combination of nerves and sheer delight, as if he's taking a particularly steep dive on his broom.
"Mr. Prongs," he whispers over his shoulder, "did you prepare Plan A?"
"Yes, Mr. Padfoot," James answers. "Plan A is prepared."
"Good. Initiate Plan A," Sirius hisses back, never taking his eyes off of Filch.
He hears James' murmur: "Loquorum et audium Peeves spiritus," then the back and forth of conversation. James finishes with: "Have we ever been short even one dungbomb? Do it, Peeves!"
The crash that follows moments later is distant, but still splendidly loud, and is followed rapidly by a second, third, and fourth. Peeves is probably throwing suits of armour down the stairs, Sirius thinks vaguely; then the four of them dash across the hall and into the tunnel.
"Thirty dungbombs," Peter says, shaking his head. "If Filch ever finds out that we're the ones who've been supplying Peeves, he'll skin us alive."
"We've got bigger worries now, mate," Sirius says cheerfully. "Think about what Dumbledore will do to us if he finds out we've stolen one of his portraits." From the strangled noise that Peter makes, this might not have been a helpful thing to say.
"Er -- right, then," Remus says. "Let's hurry, so that we can get Phineas back before the mass flayings commence."
***
The Forest is dark, and filled with shadows that linger worryingly on the edge between seductive and menacing. They seem to snatch at Sirius out of the corners of his vision, but when he looks directly at them, he sees nothing but an ominous, waiting stillness. He is not sure if it would be better to have all four of them cast Lumos, or worse. As it is, the light at the end of James' wand feels uncomfortably bright, like an intrusion.
"I don't like this," Peter says quietly. His voice echoes more than it should, and they all wince. No one else speaks, but judging by their expressions they feel much the same.
Sirius, though he'd rather not, can't help but agree. The Forest is especially unfriendly tonight, and the centaur's warning is ringing in his ears. They move as quickly as they can along the barely-existent path towards the clearing. Once or twice, Sirius changes form and runs ahead. Even as Padfoot, the Forest is unpleasantly silent. He gets the feeling that they are the only things alive and moving in the darkness, and he doesn't like it.
By the time they finally reach the clearing, his nerves are stretched to the breaking point, and when James comes up behind him and puts a hand on his back he nearly gets bitten for his trouble. Sirius changes back, and the four of them stand frozen for a moment, uncertain, before Sirius remembers that he's supposed to be in charge this time.
"Let's do this and get out of here," he murmurs. His voice, like Peter's, sounds far too loud in the stillness. "Wormtail, get Phineas out of the sack. Moony, cast Silencio on him the instant Wormtail gets him out. The last thing we want right now is Phineas Nigellus yelling his head off."
"All right," Remus agrees. Peter nods, with an apprehensive glance at the darkness edging them in. Between the two of them, Phineas is quickly out of his sack, Silenced, and glaring furiously at Sirius with an expression that demands an explanation.
"I need you to look at that box," Sirius tells him grimly. "I also need you not to shout. We're in the middle of the Forest, and if it looks like we're about to get eaten because of you, I'll set you on fire." He matches Phineas glare for glare, and has to hide his exultation when his painted ancestor gives him a grudging nod.
"Okay, Moony. You can take the Silencing Charm off now."
Phineas seems willing to content himself with another glare and a demand to be taken to the box and then back to Dumbledore's office. It's a quiet demand, though, so Sirius lets it pass.
"This way," Sirius says, and the four of them cross the clearing. Sirius parts the bushes until he sees the gleam of silver reflected in the light from James' wand, while Remus holds the portrait so that he can see, and Peter keeps a nervous watch on the encroaching shadows.
"Bugger," Phineas Nigellus says sharply, and they all jump.
"What?" Sirius asks. "What is it?"
"Not here," Phineas says. "The less time we spend out here, the better."
***
With Phineas Nigellus propped up at the end of Sirius' bed, and all of the lamps in the room blazing brightly, Sirius asks his question again.
"It's a Tempestas Locas Maleficus," Phineas says. "Or rather, part of one. The engraving on the box is unmistakable."
"What does it do?" Sirius asks impatiently, though he has the sinking feeling that he already knows.
"If properly cast," Phineas says, "it changes the weather for as large an area as the caster can make the spell cover. It also," he adds darkly, "tends to make any magical creatures in the affected area come over a bit... strange. Really, Sirius," he says, with a censorious glare; "your father must have mentioned this to you at least once. It's a basic principle of Dark magic."
"Doesn't mean I was paying attention," Sirius says sullenly, ignoring the inquiring look James is giving him.
"Of course not," Phineas sneers. "Salazar forbid that you learn something useful."
"Like the countercharm?" Remus asks.
"Or the fact that there is no countercharm," Phineas says. "Basic principle or no, casting that spell requires a great deal of strength and training. Undoing something like that takes a bit more than a Finite Incantatum."
Remus looked as if he were about to say something else, but at that moment, the bedroom door burst open. Silhouetted in the doorway is a slit-eyed, furious Professor McGonagall.
"Where have you been?" she demands, then catches sight of Phineas Nigellus. "What in Merlin's name is going on here?!"
***
( day eighteen)*(day twenty)
***
Author's Notes: Ta-da! Some sort of cohesion! An actual plot! I feel special.
As always, feedback is love. Tell me what you think.