It has been what must be considered a perfectly lovely weekend. And even the prospect of having to return to classes in the morning can't dim anyone's good mood this evening
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It's a singular experience, seeing your face immortalized (at least for a brief season) on a Halloween pumpkin.
Not quite on par with having your own chocolate frog card, but gratifying all the same.
(Gratifying also, due to the fact that the Marauders' seasonal prank has taken an amusing and benign bent this year. Because this could be the handiwork of none other but the Marauders.)
Students and teachers are still filing into the Great Hall, so Dumbledore has time to admire the handiwork.
"Delightful," he pronounces it, tapping his orange likeness on the nose. "Quite well done. I do believe those boys have some untapped artistic depth."
"I shall have to make sure that Professor Flitwick takes note of them. I'm sure he'd be gratified to know how well Mr. Potter, Mr. Black, Mr. Lupin, and Mr. Pettigrew are advancing in the study of charms."
For prank they may be, but the work put in would not have been easy.
Dumbledore looks out over the assembling student body.
"Anything that adds to the general air of festivity."
"I think they actually like them," says Peter from the Gryffindor table.
The four Marauders had arrived with one of the larger crowds of students to take their proper seats (and, yeah, bask in the fruits of their labour).
"Well, it is pretty fantastic," James says, watching the floating pumpkins glowing in their spots, and the professors observing them. "Happy Hallowe'en, mates."
"Happy Hallowe'en," Remus echoes, smiling.
"I can't wait to see McGonagall's face," Sirius says.
"And congratulations on yesterday. It was a great game."
Which had, unfortunately, been followed by having to take the ever hapless Elinor Perks to the hospital wing after she'd broken out in spots that she was convinced were dragon pox and which turned out to be an allergic reaction to the bubotuber pus she was using on her pimples.
So Lily had missed most of the resulting celebrations in Gryffindor Tower.
Not quite on par with having your own chocolate frog card, but gratifying all the same.
(Gratifying also, due to the fact that the Marauders' seasonal prank has taken an amusing and benign bent this year. Because this could be the handiwork of none other but the Marauders.)
Students and teachers are still filing into the Great Hall, so Dumbledore has time to admire the handiwork.
"Delightful," he pronounces it, tapping his orange likeness on the nose. "Quite well done. I do believe those boys have some untapped artistic depth."
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She's studying a pumpkin version of herself, which was waiting at her usual place at the teachers' table.
(And she has to say that she thinks it's gleaming just a teeny bit more than some of the other professors' pumpkins.)
"Aren't they wonderful, Lerwick?"
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He has his hands folded behind his back.
"Well, they are something," he allows.
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For prank they may be, but the work put in would not have been easy.
Dumbledore looks out over the assembling student body.
"Anything that adds to the general air of festivity."
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The four Marauders had arrived with one of the larger crowds of students to take their proper seats (and, yeah, bask in the fruits of their labour).
"Well, it is pretty fantastic," James says, watching the floating pumpkins glowing in their spots, and the professors observing them. "Happy Hallowe'en, mates."
"Happy Hallowe'en," Remus echoes, smiling.
"I can't wait to see McGonagall's face," Sirius says.
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"The pumpkins," she says, from just behind James' shoulder. "Are they your doing?"
The tone is somewhere between prefect and playful (and a lot closer to the latter than the former).
Lily Evans is, probably for the first time in her life, utterly amused by a prank the Marauders have pulled.
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"It may be," he says innocently.
"We're actually not getting detention," Peter is muttering beside him.
James reaches out to pat his friend's shoulder.
"Hello, Lily. All right?"
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"They're brilliant, you know.
"You're mad, the lot of you, putting McGonagall and Grindstaff on pumpkins.
"But they're brilliant."
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"Thank you," he says. "It was really Remus' idea."
"Well, James wanted to do something with the professors this year," Remus interjects.
"Right, right," says Sirius. "It's not bad, but we had to make it prefect-approved."
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"Everyone thinks so, as far as I can tell."
Well, maybe not Grindstaff.
"Happy Hallowe'en."
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Which is probably a good thing.
Defense Against the Dark Arts this year has been brutal with him heading the class. It wouldn't do to get on his bad side.
"Happy Hallowe'en," James returns, beaming.
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Which had, unfortunately, been followed by having to take the ever hapless Elinor Perks to the hospital wing after she'd broken out in spots that she was convinced were dragon pox and which turned out to be an allergic reaction to the bubotuber pus she was using on her pimples.
So Lily had missed most of the resulting celebrations in Gryffindor Tower.
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"I didn't see you at the celebrations after. They were -"
He shakes his head, laughing.
"Absolutely mad," Remus fills in. He rubs his face. "I'm sure half the House broke about fifty rules. Each."
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There's a lot of prefectial blind-eying going on at times like that.
"Elinor thought she had dragon pox, so I was at the hospital wing with her."
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James continues to laugh - then quickly sobers.
"Oh. She's all right?" he asks.
He wouldn't have noticed whether she was at the celebrations too, or not.
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"She's fine."
Just, as usual, a bit of a walking crisis.
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