Fic: Teenagers In Love
Title: Teenagers In Love
by minnow_53
Pairing: Remus/Sirius
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: A bit quirky: it’s meant to have a fly-on-the-wall documentary feel.
Beta: astra_argentea
Summary: MWPP, Seventh Year: the Marauders play a prank on Snape at the Yule Ball.
Note:: This story was written for silver_sunn101, in a New Year fic challenge.
Now posted on my journal, remusxsirius and two_boys.
Teenagers In Love
They seem just like any two teenagers in love: a bit awkward, embarrassed, even, but bursting to talk about each other non-stop. ‘Well, Remus is interesting. And I don’t talk about him all the time. I’m not talking about him now.’
‘Oh, yes, you do,’ James says. ‘And you are.’
James has timed him. A couple of days ago, Sirius Black, who’s been his best friend since they started school, spoke for exactly ninety-three minutes about how Remus Lupin has invented a new charm to warm blankets. ‘You go on and on about Evans,’ Sirius protests, and James scowls and says, ‘That’s different, isn’t it?’
‘Anyway,’ Sirius says, ‘it’s a great charm. Even with two of us, those bloody beds are freezing in winter. What Remus does, he swishes his - ’
‘For Merlin’s sake, shut up!’ shouts James putting his hands over his ears. ‘I don’t want to hear about your perverted practices.’
In fact, Remus and Sirius aren’t exactly typical of other seventeen year-olds in love. They have wands, for a start, and can use them. They’ve probably been warming blankets since they could first toddle. Between them, they know at least five hundred spells, curses and jinxes, not to mention being able to Transfigure teapots into tortoises. Sirius can turn into a dog at will, and Remus turns into a wolf every month without fail.
Of course, James Potter and Lily Evans, Head Boy and Girl of the school, can perform similar tricks: Lily is even able to brew potions that will send her enemies to sleep for a hundred years, though sadly these are illegal. James and Lily are a more conventional couple, though. Lily is small and curvy, and glances up at James rather coyly, through long, dark lashes. James is tall, broad-shouldered and protective.
Remus and Sirius, on the other hand, are almost the same height, and can look each other straight in the eye. Remus is a bit shy, Sirius more forthcoming. They keep their distance at first with anyone who doesn’t know about them, very pointedly ignoring each other, but when they do eventually make contact, they exchange such broad smiles that their faces almost break in half.
They sometimes hold hands under the table at meals. ‘Well, that’s discreet enough, isn’t it?’ Sirius says indignantly. ‘Prongs, you wouldn’t even have noticed if it hadn’t been steak for dinner. You try cutting meat one-handed.’
‘I would so have noticed! You were fondling his knee! Gross.’
‘I don’t ‘fondle’ Moony!’ Sirius says coldly, and refuses to speak to James for an hour, though by bedtime they’re chatting together quite happily.
*
This week, it’s business as usual for Remus, Sirius, James and their friend Peter Pettigrew. The four boys call themselves the Marauders, and Peter is the only Marauder who isn’t a teenager in love. He makes a face when he mentions Remus and Sirius, but he’s a bit jealous of James, and admits he’d like a significant other of some sort. ‘A pretty female rat to keep Wormtail company,’ James teases, and Peter pushes him down on to the hearth where they wrestle for a few moments.
These boys attend a very exclusive boarding school, and though there are only four of them in the palatial Gryffindor Seventh Year Boys’ Dormitory, there are five beds, the empty one reserved for a student who never arrived.
The fifth bed has been a fixture since First Year. From time to time, the boys’ Head of House, Professor McGonagall, offers to Transfigure it into a useful wardrobe, but the boys always refuse, because an extra bed is so handy for games of hide and seek, for somersaults and bouncing on.
They occasionally speculate about what happened to the missing Gryffindor boy.
‘Maybe he went somewhere else. I’m pretty sure someone told me he was from Berlin, and decided to go to Durmstrang instead,’ Sirius says airily.
‘You don’t know, Padfoot!’ Peter protests. ‘You always say that so Remus won’t start going on about how he died and turned into a ghost. ’
‘Course he didn’t die, Moony.’ Sirius puts an affectionate arm round his boyfriend. ‘His name’s Ludwig, and he comes from Bavaria.’
‘Berlin,’ corrects Peter.
‘Wherever. Or maybe he was put in Slytherin by mistake. There are hundreds of Slytherin boys in our year.’
Today’s meeting is precisely to discuss Slytherin, their rival House. Christmas is coming, and the four boys want to play their annual prank on their enemies. They’re rejected the idea of giving them reindeer antlers, or rather, James vetoed it. They’ve discussed a number of permutations on hair-colouring, poisoned pumpkin juice and even love potions, but so far haven’t come up with anything worthy of note.
They always huddle together on the unoccupied bed to discuss their plans, closing the rich red and gold draperies around themselves to keep in the heat. It’s neutral territory: and James especially is pleased about that. He frequently expresses his distaste for going anywhere near a bed that Remus and Sirius might have defiled.
Actually, Remus and Sirius often sleep in the fifth bed, but don’t want James to know. ‘He’d have a fit thinking he’s actually been under the covers where we’ve, you know, shagged,’ Sirius says, rolling his eyes, and Remus giggles.
After some discussion, it’s agreed that this year they’ll focus on an individual Slytherin, their nemesis, Severus Snape, the boy they call Snivellus or ‘slimy git’. They decide it would be fun to reverse the usual jinxes and do something unexpected, like making him into what James calls ‘a pretty boy.’ Sirius looks slightly offended, but not for long.
‘He won’t be as pretty as you,’ he mutters in Remus’s ear, and Remus makes a face. ‘I’m not pretty, Padfoot,’ he protests, but Sirius tickles him until he shrieks with laughter.
‘Guys,’ says Peter, a bit feebly, and James goes scarlet. ‘Merlin, Padfoot! Keep it down, will you?’
Remus and Sirius nearly fall on the floor laughing at the unintentional pun, and James goes even redder, if that’s possible, and stamps off in a temper, pausing only to collect his broomstick from the trunk at the foot of his bed. He’s off to practise Quidditch, a wizarding game played in mid-air.
Peter rushes after him, calling ‘Wait for me!’
‘Let him fly it off,’ Sirius says airily. ‘We can have it off, perhaps,’ he tells Remus, who blushes in his turn and looks down at the bedspread.
*
The local village, Hogsmeade, boasts a warm, welcoming pub called the Three Broomsticks. As it’s now mid-December, there’s a big Christmas tree in one corner, decorated entirely in white, with sparkling baubles and a real fairy on top. The effect is enchanting, like a glittering snow scene on a Christmas card.
Remus goes to buy a round of hot Butterbeers, a drink roughly equivalent to shandy, and Sirius starts talking about him again.
‘Hey, Prongs, I need some some help with Christmas presents.’ He takes a crumpled sheet of parchment out of his pocket. ‘I know you said to make a list, but it’s getting a bit long. D’you think Moony’d prefer a book or a chess set? He really could do with new robes, but I like him in his old ones. Or out of them, of course.’ Remus is now standing at the bar, and Sirius shoots him a look of such lust that staff members at a nearby table frown at him pointedly.
Like all teenagers in love, Remus and Sirius attract a certain amount of censure from their teachers, more so because they’re both boys. Peter kicks Sirius under the table and hisses, ‘Stop ogling him! McGonagall’s watching you.’
Sirius glares, but before he can retaliate, Remus comes back with the drinks and it’s time to discuss the latest developments in the Christmas prank.
The original plan was to beautify Snape just before the holidays, but the Headmaster has announced that the school is holding a Yule Ball this year. They all agree this will be the perfect time to use the glamour charm.
‘D’you think one of the Ravenclaw boys will fancy him?’ Remus asks.
‘They just better not fancy you,’ Sirius mumbles, ruffling Remus’s hair in a way that could be construed as friendly, if they weren’t sitting practically on top of each other.
‘They’ll be too busy drooling over Snape,’ Remus assures him. ‘Everyone’ll be asking who the gorgeous new boy is.’
Ideally, the Marauders agree, the transformation will be so fast that Snape will turn handsome before anyone knows he’s in the room. He won’t even realise he looks different from usual.
‘If we blow it, we’ll have detention for the rest of our lives,’ Sirius says cheerfully.
‘We’d better make sure we get it right, then.’ James raises his glass, and they all drink a mock toast to the prank.
‘Oh, it’ll go fine,’ Sirius says. ‘Unless he looks in a mirror or gets pulled’ - Remus snorts - ‘he’ll never have a clue what hit him. We should call it Operation Cinderella, because the spell will wear off at midnight, when the ball finishes. Plus, he’ll wonder why everyone’s treating him like Prince Charming. Stop laughing, Remus. You’ve got to keep a straight face.’
‘Come to think of it,’ Remus says, ‘perhaps making Snape into a pretty stranger isn’t such a hot idea.’
‘You won’t say that when you see him! Bet you’ll want to dance with the lovely Snivellus,’ sniggers Sirius, who’s already started his second Butterbeer.
‘Bet I won’t,’ says Remus.
*
Sirius has sorted out his present-giving problems by buying Remus every single item on his list.
James says, ‘Must’ve cost you a fortune, mate.’
‘Why try to choose?’ Sirius asks. ‘I mean, what if I got him a quill and he wanted chocolates?’
‘I got Lily chocolates,’ says James, a bit defensively.
Remus is worried because he can’t afford much for Sirius this year. ‘D’you think it’s okay to make him vouchers?’ he asks James and Peter, nibbling at one of his nails. ‘You know, things like ‘I promise you a snog after Muggle Studies every Monday’?
‘Spare us, please,’ James interrupts.
Remus ignores him. ‘That one’s easy, because MS is before lunch and there’s an empty Runes classroom next door. But I’ve also done a few like ‘I promise to jinx all your enemies.’ With any luck, Snape’ll be so dead after Operation Cinderella that I can leave him out of it.’
Preparations for the prank are going well. The Marauders have decided the spell needs to include what Remus has christened ‘The Little Mermaid Formula.’ This ensures that Snape can’t open his mouth and start verbally assaulting everyone who finds him fanciable. Ideally, such a complex charm should be brewed as a potion, but the four boys have no way of getting their deadly enemy to ingest anything they’ve made.
Peter’s been given the job of adapting an ordinary Silencio into a rather more powerful Speechless Spell. His friends have helped where they can, but they’re a bit worried he may have underdone it. The original spell only affects the victim’s vocal chords, but James and Sirius want the new charm to have a mild tranquillising effect, so Snape won’t actually try to talk. ‘If he struggles against it, people will guess he’s been hexed,’ James says.
So far, Peter hasn’t quite managed to combine all the elements successfully; the task may have been rather too complex to leave to the youngest in the group. The others are keeping him at it, as an angry Snape opening and closing his (temporarily) beautiful mouth like a fish all evening won’t be very appealing.
‘He has to open his mouth to be kissed,’ Peter has said a bit dubiously. ‘If he gets kissed.’
Sirius grins. ‘I’m hoping there won’t be much kissing going on. Some of those Ravenclaw guys are bloody frustrated, you know.’
*
Remus is staying at school over the holidays. ‘I get totally pissed off with his bloody parents!’ Sirius complains to the other two. ‘They’re as bad as mine sometimes. They’ve been making all sorts of feeble excuses not to have him home. He’s just had an owl to say his mother’s been called away to visit a sick relative. She doesn’t even have any relatives!’
There’s a full moon on Christmas Day this year, which means that werewolf Remus will spend most of the evening away from the school, in the special confines prepared for him by the Headmaster. For that reason, the Yule Ball is scheduled to take place on New Year’s Eve, to ensure that everyone will be fit to attend. It’s a popular decision, as the students who normally go home for Christmas can do so and return in time for the big event, without having to miss out on their family celebrations.
The day before the end of term, Remus and Sirius walk down to the lake, where they skim stones across the water, trying to rouse the Giant Squid. Sirius, who lives alone in a London flat, has been invited to the Potters’ house for Christmas, but refuses to go. ‘I’m not going to desert you, Moony! That’s what mates are for, isn’t it? To look out for each other.’
‘I wish you’d go to Prongs’s, Padfoot. You’ll have a wonderful time.’
‘I’ll have a wonderful time here. D’you think he’s avoiding us?’ Sirius throws yet another stone, not bothering to skim it, and is rewarded by a brief glimpse of tentacle as the Squid bats it away.
Remus shivers. ‘Let’s go in, it’s getting dark.’
‘And cold.’ Sirius wraps his scarf round Remus’s neck.
*
The Gryffindor common room is sparkling with red and gold tinsel, and the Head of House has donated angel wings and Santa hats for the students to dress up in. Remus has put on a pair of the wings, at Sirius’ insistence, but seems to have forgotten about them. He’s standing in the middle of the room, deep in thought.
Sirius, sprawled on the squashy red sofa in front of the fire, watches him happily. ‘He really does look like an angel, doesn’t he?’ he asks, fondly and rhetorically. Peter, next to him, stares into the flames without answering.
Remus joins his friends on the sofa. ‘I keep thinking we should have a Personality Change in there somewhere. It wouldn’t spoil the prank if Snape was nice too.’
‘Yes, it would,’ says Sirius. ‘He might enjoy having the Ravenclaw boys all over him, which’d miss the whole point.’
‘I suppose. Anyway, I’m fed up with him leering at us and telling us to get a room.’
Sirius puts a hand gently over Remus’s mouth to stop him talking. ‘Why? Sounds a brilliant idea! Hey, Moony, tomorrow we’ll have the dorm all to ourselves…’ He looks a bit misty-eyed, though he’d probably hex anyone who mentioned it. For a minute, he and Remus gaze at each other dreamily, completely oblivious to the students around them messing about with Santa hats and fake wands.
Then, somebody calls out, ‘It’s snowing!’ and everyone in the common room turns to watch the first flakes drifting down from the night sky. Remus and Sirius open the window and lean out to catch the snow on their tongues, standing very close together.
They probably aren’t thinking about the prank at this moment, but James is. Halfway through packing to leave on the school train in the morning, he bounds down to the common room to ask Sirius if he’ll cast the actual charm. Sirius is annoyed at being dragged away from Remus and the snow, especially as Remus is now sitting by the fire again and probably won’t move for the rest of the evening.
‘Potter doesn’t want to get in trouble, because he’s Head Boy,’ Sirius informs Peter bitterly, putting the words ‘Head Boy’ in almost visible quotation marks. ‘I’m glad he picked me to do it, anyway, because we don’t want to screw up.’
*
It’s the night of the Yule Ball. Remus is a bit wan, with shadows under his eyes, and Sirius hovers round him protectively. ‘You won’t forget to cast the bloody charm, will you, Padfoot?’ James asks.
‘I’m not even going to answer that,’ Sirius says, and when James has gone he mutters, ‘He and Evans really deserve each other! And I don’t deserve you, probably,’ he mumbles, giving Remus a quick hug. He’s smiling, but like any teenager in love he’s very intense all the same, concerned that Remus should be all right for the dance.
There’s an air of expectation this New Year’s Eve: during the afternoon, students have been arriving back at school after the break, many of them with brand new dress-robes.
Remus’s dress-robes are shabby and darned, like all his clothes. He’s agreed to borrow Sirius’s spare set, so they’re dressed identically in a shade of grey that echoes Sirius’s rain-coloured eyes and gives Remus a faintly religious look, like an altar-boy. He’s still very pale, in spite of all the excitement, and Sirius continues to monitor him anxiously.
Though a few of the teachers know about the boys, including Professor McGonagall, the Headmaster has no idea that Remus and Sirius are in love, or so they believe. The matching robes may not be the best way to throw him off the scent, Peter warns them.
‘Sirius and I aren’t going to the dance together,’ Remus points out. ‘We’ll pretend we just met by chance.’
‘Yeah, right. I’m going to find Naomi.’ Peter grabs his wand and clatters down to the common room.
Remus says, ‘I really hope Snape doesn’t have a date after all.’
‘So do I,’ Sirius says. ‘I’ve told Castor Rowntree to look out for the gorgeous new Slytherin. I laid it on really thick about how this bloke can’t speak and has to be treated with care. I thought we needed insurance, in case the Ravenclaws don’t come across. I heard they’re going to the ball in a big group.’
Castor is another Seventh Year, a third cousin of Sirius’s. ‘Of course, he’s not going to admit he fancies boys. His parents have arranged a marriage for him in summer. Snivellus can entertain him in the meantime.’
‘Or till midnight,’ Remus says. ‘Hey, Padfoot, we forgot the glass slipper.’
‘He’s going to drop a tube of eyeliner,’ Sirius says. ‘Talking of which, I really wish, Moony, that you’d wear just a tiny bit of eyeliner for me.’
‘Not if Prongs is going to see me. Some other time, okay?’
He may not want to discuss the eyeliner, but he seems happy enough to kiss Sirius, and they fall back on the fifth bed, fumbling with each other’s buttons and with an eye on the clock, because it’s nearly time to go downstairs. Of course, teenagers in love can’t control their urges indefinitely, and Sirius soon closes the curtains with a swish of his wand.
*
The Great Hall looks very different tonight. Though the High Table remains, the students’ tables have been magicked away, and there are four Christmas trees in their place, each decorated in different House colours. The Gryffindor tree, with its resplendent red and gold ornaments, is the very epitome of Christmas.
There are thousands of tiny, multi-coloured fairy lights criss-crossing the enchanted ceiling, twinkling like stars against a sky which is too overcast to show any real constellations. They give the room an exotic, if muted glow, but it’s not too dim: everyone will be able to admire Snape as he makes his entrance. A wizarding band, The Witching Hour, are playing traditional tunes on a stage at the far end of the room. The music might be a bit discordant to ears that aren’t attuned to it, but the four Gryffindor boys assert that it’s quite good really.
Remus and Sirius have positioned themselves near the door. Professor McGonagall occasionally glances at them nervously, but they’re behaving impeccably: obviously, they had a productive session on the bed before coming downstairs, because they both look a bit dazed and flushed. Remus appears a lot healthier than he did earlier.
James and Lily are patrolling the small tables and chairs dotted around the edges of what is now a dance-floor, lighting a candle on each one with their wands. A few couples are already sitting here waiting for the party to begin. Peter and his date, a Hufflepuff girl he doesn’t know very well, wander about aimlessly, but he pauses to talk to Remus and Sirius by the door, and laughs at something Sirius says.
Of course, the revellers without partners will steal in as late as possible, and half the couples are already on the dance-floor when Snape finally comes through the door; alone, as predicted. Remus is visibly relieved that his worries about Snape having a date are unfounded.
Sirius’s wand-arm moves so fast that you wouldn’t even notice if you weren’t looking out for it, and within an instant the sallow, greasy-haired, hook-nosed boy is transformed into what one can only call a thing of beauty.
He now has translucent, clear skin and a slightly pert nose. His lips curve upward in a smile, and have become noticeably fuller and pinker. James and Sirius, after some discussion, added a specific charm to make him look as if he were wearing just a touch of lipstick. Snape’s mouth is luscious, ripe and kissable, his enormous eyes a periwinkle blue: already, all the girls in the room, and many of the boys, are turning to stare at this person they perceive as a complete stranger.
‘You have to admit he’s got a good figure when he’s not ugly,’ Sirius says, admiring the Marauders’ handiwork with clinical detachment. Remus scowls at him, but perks up when he sees Castor Rowntree pointedly making his way toward the new-look Snape, an expression of mingled awe and hope on his face.
‘Isn’t Castor going to kill you when he finds out it’s Snape?’ Remus asks.
Sirius shrugs. Like any teenager, in love or otherwise, he doesn’t normally think of consequences too much.
‘But Padfoot, suppose they go to the Slytherin dungeons before midnight, and wake up tomorrow morning…’ Remus gulps, and looks at Sirius rather suspiciously, as if Sirius too might, overnight, turn into an ugly, stroppy Slytherin.
‘Well, Castor will simply assume that Snape’s good at glamour charms,’ Sirius says. ‘Stop worrying, Moony.’
Sirius doesn’t repeat what he’s told James earlier, that Castor is wildly frustrated after a Christmas at his parents’ very, very grand house in Surrey and would probably welcome even Snape in his bed.
A couple of the Ravenclaw boys have also broken away from their group and are approaching Snape with predatory expressions. Surprisingly, though four or five of the girls are still looking at him hopefully, they’re generally keeping their distance.
‘You see, we told you the lipstick was a good idea,’ Sirius says to Remus. ‘Just a subtle way of ensuring he doesn’t get a girl, because he likes girls, doesn’t he? As far as he likes anything.’
‘I always think he fancies Evans,’ Remus says. ‘Hey, Padfoot, while McGonagall’s glowering at the new boy and his admirers, d’you think we could sneak a dance together?’
Sirius bows theatrically and sweeps Remus on to the dance-floor. The band launches into a slow song, and they soon have their arms round each other, forgetting that they need to be discreet this evening: but then, teenagers in love don’t really have any sense of decorum.
James and Peter are still watching Snape. The expression on his lovely face is one of utter confusion as the boys circle him purposefully. The Marauders should probably have factored in that the oblivious Snape, who doesn’t know he’s now the best-looking person in the room, may not realise the other boys are trying to get off with him. In fact, he’s more likely to assume they have a grudge and want to fight him: and sure enough, when he finds his voice won’t work, he’s fishing out his wand with hands that are currently slim and sensitive, with tapering fingers.
The Marauders’ pranks aren’t always successful, of course. ‘About 40%,’ James estimates. He’s quite philosophical about the high failure rate. ‘If a prank goes wrong, at least we can learn from it,’ he’s always assuring Peter. It seems he’s about to learn that the Personality Change might have been a good idea after all.
A cluster of fairy lights suddenly explodes with a bang as the mute Snape waves his wand wildly, apparently not caring who or what he curses. Castor ducks just in time, but one of the Ravenclaw boys is hit by a Jelly-Legs Jinx and collapses to the ground.
‘Not very original,’ James says, and Lily replies, ‘Well, it worked, didn’t it?’
Castor, floundering, can come up with nothing better than a Hair-Growing Hex. On the new-look Snape, the effect is spectacular, and the room falls silent as luxuriant, blue-black locks flow down his back in a graceful cascade. The Marauders should probably have devised a Rapunzel charm to add to the other fairy-tales Snape is living out this evening.
Remus and Sirius stop dancing to watch the fight, along with everyone else, though they seem slightly detached from the proceedings. Sirius is nuzzling Remus’s neck, possibly without realising he’s doing it, and Remus is leaning in to his touch. As nobody’s looking at them, it probably doesn’t matter.
Snape seizes a handful of his doubly hexed hair and stares at it uncomprehendingly. His lovely face contorts with rage; the Speechless Spell breaks abruptly, and he lets out a huge, inarticulate roar.
‘I’m going to kill Wormtail!’ James expostulates.
Snape aims his wand at directly at Castor’s head and yells ‘Sectum-’
At this point, the Headmaster himself intervenes with an even louder ‘Expelliarmus!’ More fairy lights explode as Snape and Castor’s wands fly into his hand, together with three unidentified Ravenclaw ones. Snape, obviously beside himself, leaps on Castor and starts pummelling him with his currently delicate knuckles. He truly does look beautiful when he’s angry, and Castor isn’t too distressed by the attack: he certainly isn’t fighting back. In fact, he’s running his fingers through Snape’s glorious, waist-length curls.
‘Finite Incantatem!’ Professor McGonagall is a formidable woman, and her voice rings out above the renewed hubbub. Though the Cinderella charm has been prepared by three of the brightest boys in the school, it can’t stand up against the Professor, who can turn into a cat at will, though she doesn’t do so on this occasion.
There’s a collective groan as Snape’s complexion grows sallow again, his big eyes shrink, and his mouth turns resolutely downward. The Hair-Growing Hex holds, but now Castor finds himself with a fistful of lank, greasy strands. ‘Ew!’ he cries and rubs his hand on his robes. All the same, he doesn’t push Snape off or make any move to get away from him.
Sirius interrupts his nuzzling to say to Remus, ‘I thought Castor might be desperate. Look, he’s enjoying it! Maybe we’ve brought true love to Snivellus.’
‘I hope not.’
There’s another bang as one of Castor’s friends, who still has a wand, leaps in to the rescue. The room is plunged into darkness, and the band, which has continued to play with Titanic-like stamina, falters and stops.
About thirty voices cry ‘Lumos!’ and in the combined light from many wands, it’s evident that a hex has hit the Slytherin Christmas tree, which sways to and fro for a moment before hitting the ground with a fourth explosion.
It takes a few minutes and a lot of magic for some sort of order to be restored. During those moments of chaos, Remus and Sirius seize the opportunity to kiss each other under a clump of mistletoe in one of the dark corners. They don’t register Professor McGonagall’s purposeful approach until she’s right behind them, clearing her throat loudly. Then, they spring apart, a bit shame-faced but apparently resigned to the ticking-off they’re about to receive.
‘I have told you before, I will not have you flaunting your relationship. In front of Fourth Years too! Really, Mr. Lupin, I am tempted to take away your prefect’s badge.’
She hardly needs to mention that all the Marauders will have many weeks of punishment for their part in ruining the Yule Ball; she does remind them that it has actually been put back specially so Remus can attend.
‘She didn’t mention Prongs’s badge,’ Sirius grumbles, when she’s finally left them alone.
‘That’s because Prongs hasn’t got a boyfriend,’ Remus says.
‘Neither does Castor,’ says Sirius gloomily, as his third cousin, sporting a black eye and cut lip, slinks away from the Great Hall. ‘Shit, he’ll jinx me to hell and back tomorrow when he’s figured out what happened.’
The ball resumes, miraculously. James and Peter are surrounded by a crowd of students clamouring to know what charms they used. James later reveals that the Ravenclaw boys have offered to pay them to put a permanent spell on Snape. ‘Looks like Castor Rowntree isn’t the only one who fell in love with him,’ he sniggers.
Now the prank and the telling-off are over, Remus and Sirius are dancing together again, in full view of the staff at the High Table. ‘We can’t be punished twice,’ Sirius has pointed out, reasonably enough. They’re swaying roughly in time to the music, which has also resumed. Remus’s eyes are nearly closed and his head is on Sirius’s shoulder; Sirius is holding him very tightly, and his eyes are closed completely. Quite a few girls have stopped dancing and are staring at them, including Peter’s date.
Like any teenagers in love, they’re in a world of their own, and don’t even notice.
End
by minnow_53
Pairing: Remus/Sirius
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: A bit quirky: it’s meant to have a fly-on-the-wall documentary feel.
Beta: astra_argentea
Summary: MWPP, Seventh Year: the Marauders play a prank on Snape at the Yule Ball.
Note:: This story was written for silver_sunn101, in a New Year fic challenge.
Now posted on my journal, remusxsirius and two_boys.
Teenagers In Love
They seem just like any two teenagers in love: a bit awkward, embarrassed, even, but bursting to talk about each other non-stop. ‘Well, Remus is interesting. And I don’t talk about him all the time. I’m not talking about him now.’
‘Oh, yes, you do,’ James says. ‘And you are.’
James has timed him. A couple of days ago, Sirius Black, who’s been his best friend since they started school, spoke for exactly ninety-three minutes about how Remus Lupin has invented a new charm to warm blankets. ‘You go on and on about Evans,’ Sirius protests, and James scowls and says, ‘That’s different, isn’t it?’
‘Anyway,’ Sirius says, ‘it’s a great charm. Even with two of us, those bloody beds are freezing in winter. What Remus does, he swishes his - ’
‘For Merlin’s sake, shut up!’ shouts James putting his hands over his ears. ‘I don’t want to hear about your perverted practices.’
In fact, Remus and Sirius aren’t exactly typical of other seventeen year-olds in love. They have wands, for a start, and can use them. They’ve probably been warming blankets since they could first toddle. Between them, they know at least five hundred spells, curses and jinxes, not to mention being able to Transfigure teapots into tortoises. Sirius can turn into a dog at will, and Remus turns into a wolf every month without fail.
Of course, James Potter and Lily Evans, Head Boy and Girl of the school, can perform similar tricks: Lily is even able to brew potions that will send her enemies to sleep for a hundred years, though sadly these are illegal. James and Lily are a more conventional couple, though. Lily is small and curvy, and glances up at James rather coyly, through long, dark lashes. James is tall, broad-shouldered and protective.
Remus and Sirius, on the other hand, are almost the same height, and can look each other straight in the eye. Remus is a bit shy, Sirius more forthcoming. They keep their distance at first with anyone who doesn’t know about them, very pointedly ignoring each other, but when they do eventually make contact, they exchange such broad smiles that their faces almost break in half.
They sometimes hold hands under the table at meals. ‘Well, that’s discreet enough, isn’t it?’ Sirius says indignantly. ‘Prongs, you wouldn’t even have noticed if it hadn’t been steak for dinner. You try cutting meat one-handed.’
‘I would so have noticed! You were fondling his knee! Gross.’
‘I don’t ‘fondle’ Moony!’ Sirius says coldly, and refuses to speak to James for an hour, though by bedtime they’re chatting together quite happily.
*
This week, it’s business as usual for Remus, Sirius, James and their friend Peter Pettigrew. The four boys call themselves the Marauders, and Peter is the only Marauder who isn’t a teenager in love. He makes a face when he mentions Remus and Sirius, but he’s a bit jealous of James, and admits he’d like a significant other of some sort. ‘A pretty female rat to keep Wormtail company,’ James teases, and Peter pushes him down on to the hearth where they wrestle for a few moments.
These boys attend a very exclusive boarding school, and though there are only four of them in the palatial Gryffindor Seventh Year Boys’ Dormitory, there are five beds, the empty one reserved for a student who never arrived.
The fifth bed has been a fixture since First Year. From time to time, the boys’ Head of House, Professor McGonagall, offers to Transfigure it into a useful wardrobe, but the boys always refuse, because an extra bed is so handy for games of hide and seek, for somersaults and bouncing on.
They occasionally speculate about what happened to the missing Gryffindor boy.
‘Maybe he went somewhere else. I’m pretty sure someone told me he was from Berlin, and decided to go to Durmstrang instead,’ Sirius says airily.
‘You don’t know, Padfoot!’ Peter protests. ‘You always say that so Remus won’t start going on about how he died and turned into a ghost. ’
‘Course he didn’t die, Moony.’ Sirius puts an affectionate arm round his boyfriend. ‘His name’s Ludwig, and he comes from Bavaria.’
‘Berlin,’ corrects Peter.
‘Wherever. Or maybe he was put in Slytherin by mistake. There are hundreds of Slytherin boys in our year.’
Today’s meeting is precisely to discuss Slytherin, their rival House. Christmas is coming, and the four boys want to play their annual prank on their enemies. They’re rejected the idea of giving them reindeer antlers, or rather, James vetoed it. They’ve discussed a number of permutations on hair-colouring, poisoned pumpkin juice and even love potions, but so far haven’t come up with anything worthy of note.
They always huddle together on the unoccupied bed to discuss their plans, closing the rich red and gold draperies around themselves to keep in the heat. It’s neutral territory: and James especially is pleased about that. He frequently expresses his distaste for going anywhere near a bed that Remus and Sirius might have defiled.
Actually, Remus and Sirius often sleep in the fifth bed, but don’t want James to know. ‘He’d have a fit thinking he’s actually been under the covers where we’ve, you know, shagged,’ Sirius says, rolling his eyes, and Remus giggles.
After some discussion, it’s agreed that this year they’ll focus on an individual Slytherin, their nemesis, Severus Snape, the boy they call Snivellus or ‘slimy git’. They decide it would be fun to reverse the usual jinxes and do something unexpected, like making him into what James calls ‘a pretty boy.’ Sirius looks slightly offended, but not for long.
‘He won’t be as pretty as you,’ he mutters in Remus’s ear, and Remus makes a face. ‘I’m not pretty, Padfoot,’ he protests, but Sirius tickles him until he shrieks with laughter.
‘Guys,’ says Peter, a bit feebly, and James goes scarlet. ‘Merlin, Padfoot! Keep it down, will you?’
Remus and Sirius nearly fall on the floor laughing at the unintentional pun, and James goes even redder, if that’s possible, and stamps off in a temper, pausing only to collect his broomstick from the trunk at the foot of his bed. He’s off to practise Quidditch, a wizarding game played in mid-air.
Peter rushes after him, calling ‘Wait for me!’
‘Let him fly it off,’ Sirius says airily. ‘We can have it off, perhaps,’ he tells Remus, who blushes in his turn and looks down at the bedspread.
*
The local village, Hogsmeade, boasts a warm, welcoming pub called the Three Broomsticks. As it’s now mid-December, there’s a big Christmas tree in one corner, decorated entirely in white, with sparkling baubles and a real fairy on top. The effect is enchanting, like a glittering snow scene on a Christmas card.
Remus goes to buy a round of hot Butterbeers, a drink roughly equivalent to shandy, and Sirius starts talking about him again.
‘Hey, Prongs, I need some some help with Christmas presents.’ He takes a crumpled sheet of parchment out of his pocket. ‘I know you said to make a list, but it’s getting a bit long. D’you think Moony’d prefer a book or a chess set? He really could do with new robes, but I like him in his old ones. Or out of them, of course.’ Remus is now standing at the bar, and Sirius shoots him a look of such lust that staff members at a nearby table frown at him pointedly.
Like all teenagers in love, Remus and Sirius attract a certain amount of censure from their teachers, more so because they’re both boys. Peter kicks Sirius under the table and hisses, ‘Stop ogling him! McGonagall’s watching you.’
Sirius glares, but before he can retaliate, Remus comes back with the drinks and it’s time to discuss the latest developments in the Christmas prank.
The original plan was to beautify Snape just before the holidays, but the Headmaster has announced that the school is holding a Yule Ball this year. They all agree this will be the perfect time to use the glamour charm.
‘D’you think one of the Ravenclaw boys will fancy him?’ Remus asks.
‘They just better not fancy you,’ Sirius mumbles, ruffling Remus’s hair in a way that could be construed as friendly, if they weren’t sitting practically on top of each other.
‘They’ll be too busy drooling over Snape,’ Remus assures him. ‘Everyone’ll be asking who the gorgeous new boy is.’
Ideally, the Marauders agree, the transformation will be so fast that Snape will turn handsome before anyone knows he’s in the room. He won’t even realise he looks different from usual.
‘If we blow it, we’ll have detention for the rest of our lives,’ Sirius says cheerfully.
‘We’d better make sure we get it right, then.’ James raises his glass, and they all drink a mock toast to the prank.
‘Oh, it’ll go fine,’ Sirius says. ‘Unless he looks in a mirror or gets pulled’ - Remus snorts - ‘he’ll never have a clue what hit him. We should call it Operation Cinderella, because the spell will wear off at midnight, when the ball finishes. Plus, he’ll wonder why everyone’s treating him like Prince Charming. Stop laughing, Remus. You’ve got to keep a straight face.’
‘Come to think of it,’ Remus says, ‘perhaps making Snape into a pretty stranger isn’t such a hot idea.’
‘You won’t say that when you see him! Bet you’ll want to dance with the lovely Snivellus,’ sniggers Sirius, who’s already started his second Butterbeer.
‘Bet I won’t,’ says Remus.
*
Sirius has sorted out his present-giving problems by buying Remus every single item on his list.
James says, ‘Must’ve cost you a fortune, mate.’
‘Why try to choose?’ Sirius asks. ‘I mean, what if I got him a quill and he wanted chocolates?’
‘I got Lily chocolates,’ says James, a bit defensively.
Remus is worried because he can’t afford much for Sirius this year. ‘D’you think it’s okay to make him vouchers?’ he asks James and Peter, nibbling at one of his nails. ‘You know, things like ‘I promise you a snog after Muggle Studies every Monday’?
‘Spare us, please,’ James interrupts.
Remus ignores him. ‘That one’s easy, because MS is before lunch and there’s an empty Runes classroom next door. But I’ve also done a few like ‘I promise to jinx all your enemies.’ With any luck, Snape’ll be so dead after Operation Cinderella that I can leave him out of it.’
Preparations for the prank are going well. The Marauders have decided the spell needs to include what Remus has christened ‘The Little Mermaid Formula.’ This ensures that Snape can’t open his mouth and start verbally assaulting everyone who finds him fanciable. Ideally, such a complex charm should be brewed as a potion, but the four boys have no way of getting their deadly enemy to ingest anything they’ve made.
Peter’s been given the job of adapting an ordinary Silencio into a rather more powerful Speechless Spell. His friends have helped where they can, but they’re a bit worried he may have underdone it. The original spell only affects the victim’s vocal chords, but James and Sirius want the new charm to have a mild tranquillising effect, so Snape won’t actually try to talk. ‘If he struggles against it, people will guess he’s been hexed,’ James says.
So far, Peter hasn’t quite managed to combine all the elements successfully; the task may have been rather too complex to leave to the youngest in the group. The others are keeping him at it, as an angry Snape opening and closing his (temporarily) beautiful mouth like a fish all evening won’t be very appealing.
‘He has to open his mouth to be kissed,’ Peter has said a bit dubiously. ‘If he gets kissed.’
Sirius grins. ‘I’m hoping there won’t be much kissing going on. Some of those Ravenclaw guys are bloody frustrated, you know.’
*
Remus is staying at school over the holidays. ‘I get totally pissed off with his bloody parents!’ Sirius complains to the other two. ‘They’re as bad as mine sometimes. They’ve been making all sorts of feeble excuses not to have him home. He’s just had an owl to say his mother’s been called away to visit a sick relative. She doesn’t even have any relatives!’
There’s a full moon on Christmas Day this year, which means that werewolf Remus will spend most of the evening away from the school, in the special confines prepared for him by the Headmaster. For that reason, the Yule Ball is scheduled to take place on New Year’s Eve, to ensure that everyone will be fit to attend. It’s a popular decision, as the students who normally go home for Christmas can do so and return in time for the big event, without having to miss out on their family celebrations.
The day before the end of term, Remus and Sirius walk down to the lake, where they skim stones across the water, trying to rouse the Giant Squid. Sirius, who lives alone in a London flat, has been invited to the Potters’ house for Christmas, but refuses to go. ‘I’m not going to desert you, Moony! That’s what mates are for, isn’t it? To look out for each other.’
‘I wish you’d go to Prongs’s, Padfoot. You’ll have a wonderful time.’
‘I’ll have a wonderful time here. D’you think he’s avoiding us?’ Sirius throws yet another stone, not bothering to skim it, and is rewarded by a brief glimpse of tentacle as the Squid bats it away.
Remus shivers. ‘Let’s go in, it’s getting dark.’
‘And cold.’ Sirius wraps his scarf round Remus’s neck.
*
The Gryffindor common room is sparkling with red and gold tinsel, and the Head of House has donated angel wings and Santa hats for the students to dress up in. Remus has put on a pair of the wings, at Sirius’ insistence, but seems to have forgotten about them. He’s standing in the middle of the room, deep in thought.
Sirius, sprawled on the squashy red sofa in front of the fire, watches him happily. ‘He really does look like an angel, doesn’t he?’ he asks, fondly and rhetorically. Peter, next to him, stares into the flames without answering.
Remus joins his friends on the sofa. ‘I keep thinking we should have a Personality Change in there somewhere. It wouldn’t spoil the prank if Snape was nice too.’
‘Yes, it would,’ says Sirius. ‘He might enjoy having the Ravenclaw boys all over him, which’d miss the whole point.’
‘I suppose. Anyway, I’m fed up with him leering at us and telling us to get a room.’
Sirius puts a hand gently over Remus’s mouth to stop him talking. ‘Why? Sounds a brilliant idea! Hey, Moony, tomorrow we’ll have the dorm all to ourselves…’ He looks a bit misty-eyed, though he’d probably hex anyone who mentioned it. For a minute, he and Remus gaze at each other dreamily, completely oblivious to the students around them messing about with Santa hats and fake wands.
Then, somebody calls out, ‘It’s snowing!’ and everyone in the common room turns to watch the first flakes drifting down from the night sky. Remus and Sirius open the window and lean out to catch the snow on their tongues, standing very close together.
They probably aren’t thinking about the prank at this moment, but James is. Halfway through packing to leave on the school train in the morning, he bounds down to the common room to ask Sirius if he’ll cast the actual charm. Sirius is annoyed at being dragged away from Remus and the snow, especially as Remus is now sitting by the fire again and probably won’t move for the rest of the evening.
‘Potter doesn’t want to get in trouble, because he’s Head Boy,’ Sirius informs Peter bitterly, putting the words ‘Head Boy’ in almost visible quotation marks. ‘I’m glad he picked me to do it, anyway, because we don’t want to screw up.’
*
It’s the night of the Yule Ball. Remus is a bit wan, with shadows under his eyes, and Sirius hovers round him protectively. ‘You won’t forget to cast the bloody charm, will you, Padfoot?’ James asks.
‘I’m not even going to answer that,’ Sirius says, and when James has gone he mutters, ‘He and Evans really deserve each other! And I don’t deserve you, probably,’ he mumbles, giving Remus a quick hug. He’s smiling, but like any teenager in love he’s very intense all the same, concerned that Remus should be all right for the dance.
There’s an air of expectation this New Year’s Eve: during the afternoon, students have been arriving back at school after the break, many of them with brand new dress-robes.
Remus’s dress-robes are shabby and darned, like all his clothes. He’s agreed to borrow Sirius’s spare set, so they’re dressed identically in a shade of grey that echoes Sirius’s rain-coloured eyes and gives Remus a faintly religious look, like an altar-boy. He’s still very pale, in spite of all the excitement, and Sirius continues to monitor him anxiously.
Though a few of the teachers know about the boys, including Professor McGonagall, the Headmaster has no idea that Remus and Sirius are in love, or so they believe. The matching robes may not be the best way to throw him off the scent, Peter warns them.
‘Sirius and I aren’t going to the dance together,’ Remus points out. ‘We’ll pretend we just met by chance.’
‘Yeah, right. I’m going to find Naomi.’ Peter grabs his wand and clatters down to the common room.
Remus says, ‘I really hope Snape doesn’t have a date after all.’
‘So do I,’ Sirius says. ‘I’ve told Castor Rowntree to look out for the gorgeous new Slytherin. I laid it on really thick about how this bloke can’t speak and has to be treated with care. I thought we needed insurance, in case the Ravenclaws don’t come across. I heard they’re going to the ball in a big group.’
Castor is another Seventh Year, a third cousin of Sirius’s. ‘Of course, he’s not going to admit he fancies boys. His parents have arranged a marriage for him in summer. Snivellus can entertain him in the meantime.’
‘Or till midnight,’ Remus says. ‘Hey, Padfoot, we forgot the glass slipper.’
‘He’s going to drop a tube of eyeliner,’ Sirius says. ‘Talking of which, I really wish, Moony, that you’d wear just a tiny bit of eyeliner for me.’
‘Not if Prongs is going to see me. Some other time, okay?’
He may not want to discuss the eyeliner, but he seems happy enough to kiss Sirius, and they fall back on the fifth bed, fumbling with each other’s buttons and with an eye on the clock, because it’s nearly time to go downstairs. Of course, teenagers in love can’t control their urges indefinitely, and Sirius soon closes the curtains with a swish of his wand.
*
The Great Hall looks very different tonight. Though the High Table remains, the students’ tables have been magicked away, and there are four Christmas trees in their place, each decorated in different House colours. The Gryffindor tree, with its resplendent red and gold ornaments, is the very epitome of Christmas.
There are thousands of tiny, multi-coloured fairy lights criss-crossing the enchanted ceiling, twinkling like stars against a sky which is too overcast to show any real constellations. They give the room an exotic, if muted glow, but it’s not too dim: everyone will be able to admire Snape as he makes his entrance. A wizarding band, The Witching Hour, are playing traditional tunes on a stage at the far end of the room. The music might be a bit discordant to ears that aren’t attuned to it, but the four Gryffindor boys assert that it’s quite good really.
Remus and Sirius have positioned themselves near the door. Professor McGonagall occasionally glances at them nervously, but they’re behaving impeccably: obviously, they had a productive session on the bed before coming downstairs, because they both look a bit dazed and flushed. Remus appears a lot healthier than he did earlier.
James and Lily are patrolling the small tables and chairs dotted around the edges of what is now a dance-floor, lighting a candle on each one with their wands. A few couples are already sitting here waiting for the party to begin. Peter and his date, a Hufflepuff girl he doesn’t know very well, wander about aimlessly, but he pauses to talk to Remus and Sirius by the door, and laughs at something Sirius says.
Of course, the revellers without partners will steal in as late as possible, and half the couples are already on the dance-floor when Snape finally comes through the door; alone, as predicted. Remus is visibly relieved that his worries about Snape having a date are unfounded.
Sirius’s wand-arm moves so fast that you wouldn’t even notice if you weren’t looking out for it, and within an instant the sallow, greasy-haired, hook-nosed boy is transformed into what one can only call a thing of beauty.
He now has translucent, clear skin and a slightly pert nose. His lips curve upward in a smile, and have become noticeably fuller and pinker. James and Sirius, after some discussion, added a specific charm to make him look as if he were wearing just a touch of lipstick. Snape’s mouth is luscious, ripe and kissable, his enormous eyes a periwinkle blue: already, all the girls in the room, and many of the boys, are turning to stare at this person they perceive as a complete stranger.
‘You have to admit he’s got a good figure when he’s not ugly,’ Sirius says, admiring the Marauders’ handiwork with clinical detachment. Remus scowls at him, but perks up when he sees Castor Rowntree pointedly making his way toward the new-look Snape, an expression of mingled awe and hope on his face.
‘Isn’t Castor going to kill you when he finds out it’s Snape?’ Remus asks.
Sirius shrugs. Like any teenager, in love or otherwise, he doesn’t normally think of consequences too much.
‘But Padfoot, suppose they go to the Slytherin dungeons before midnight, and wake up tomorrow morning…’ Remus gulps, and looks at Sirius rather suspiciously, as if Sirius too might, overnight, turn into an ugly, stroppy Slytherin.
‘Well, Castor will simply assume that Snape’s good at glamour charms,’ Sirius says. ‘Stop worrying, Moony.’
Sirius doesn’t repeat what he’s told James earlier, that Castor is wildly frustrated after a Christmas at his parents’ very, very grand house in Surrey and would probably welcome even Snape in his bed.
A couple of the Ravenclaw boys have also broken away from their group and are approaching Snape with predatory expressions. Surprisingly, though four or five of the girls are still looking at him hopefully, they’re generally keeping their distance.
‘You see, we told you the lipstick was a good idea,’ Sirius says to Remus. ‘Just a subtle way of ensuring he doesn’t get a girl, because he likes girls, doesn’t he? As far as he likes anything.’
‘I always think he fancies Evans,’ Remus says. ‘Hey, Padfoot, while McGonagall’s glowering at the new boy and his admirers, d’you think we could sneak a dance together?’
Sirius bows theatrically and sweeps Remus on to the dance-floor. The band launches into a slow song, and they soon have their arms round each other, forgetting that they need to be discreet this evening: but then, teenagers in love don’t really have any sense of decorum.
James and Peter are still watching Snape. The expression on his lovely face is one of utter confusion as the boys circle him purposefully. The Marauders should probably have factored in that the oblivious Snape, who doesn’t know he’s now the best-looking person in the room, may not realise the other boys are trying to get off with him. In fact, he’s more likely to assume they have a grudge and want to fight him: and sure enough, when he finds his voice won’t work, he’s fishing out his wand with hands that are currently slim and sensitive, with tapering fingers.
The Marauders’ pranks aren’t always successful, of course. ‘About 40%,’ James estimates. He’s quite philosophical about the high failure rate. ‘If a prank goes wrong, at least we can learn from it,’ he’s always assuring Peter. It seems he’s about to learn that the Personality Change might have been a good idea after all.
A cluster of fairy lights suddenly explodes with a bang as the mute Snape waves his wand wildly, apparently not caring who or what he curses. Castor ducks just in time, but one of the Ravenclaw boys is hit by a Jelly-Legs Jinx and collapses to the ground.
‘Not very original,’ James says, and Lily replies, ‘Well, it worked, didn’t it?’
Castor, floundering, can come up with nothing better than a Hair-Growing Hex. On the new-look Snape, the effect is spectacular, and the room falls silent as luxuriant, blue-black locks flow down his back in a graceful cascade. The Marauders should probably have devised a Rapunzel charm to add to the other fairy-tales Snape is living out this evening.
Remus and Sirius stop dancing to watch the fight, along with everyone else, though they seem slightly detached from the proceedings. Sirius is nuzzling Remus’s neck, possibly without realising he’s doing it, and Remus is leaning in to his touch. As nobody’s looking at them, it probably doesn’t matter.
Snape seizes a handful of his doubly hexed hair and stares at it uncomprehendingly. His lovely face contorts with rage; the Speechless Spell breaks abruptly, and he lets out a huge, inarticulate roar.
‘I’m going to kill Wormtail!’ James expostulates.
Snape aims his wand at directly at Castor’s head and yells ‘Sectum-’
At this point, the Headmaster himself intervenes with an even louder ‘Expelliarmus!’ More fairy lights explode as Snape and Castor’s wands fly into his hand, together with three unidentified Ravenclaw ones. Snape, obviously beside himself, leaps on Castor and starts pummelling him with his currently delicate knuckles. He truly does look beautiful when he’s angry, and Castor isn’t too distressed by the attack: he certainly isn’t fighting back. In fact, he’s running his fingers through Snape’s glorious, waist-length curls.
‘Finite Incantatem!’ Professor McGonagall is a formidable woman, and her voice rings out above the renewed hubbub. Though the Cinderella charm has been prepared by three of the brightest boys in the school, it can’t stand up against the Professor, who can turn into a cat at will, though she doesn’t do so on this occasion.
There’s a collective groan as Snape’s complexion grows sallow again, his big eyes shrink, and his mouth turns resolutely downward. The Hair-Growing Hex holds, but now Castor finds himself with a fistful of lank, greasy strands. ‘Ew!’ he cries and rubs his hand on his robes. All the same, he doesn’t push Snape off or make any move to get away from him.
Sirius interrupts his nuzzling to say to Remus, ‘I thought Castor might be desperate. Look, he’s enjoying it! Maybe we’ve brought true love to Snivellus.’
‘I hope not.’
There’s another bang as one of Castor’s friends, who still has a wand, leaps in to the rescue. The room is plunged into darkness, and the band, which has continued to play with Titanic-like stamina, falters and stops.
About thirty voices cry ‘Lumos!’ and in the combined light from many wands, it’s evident that a hex has hit the Slytherin Christmas tree, which sways to and fro for a moment before hitting the ground with a fourth explosion.
It takes a few minutes and a lot of magic for some sort of order to be restored. During those moments of chaos, Remus and Sirius seize the opportunity to kiss each other under a clump of mistletoe in one of the dark corners. They don’t register Professor McGonagall’s purposeful approach until she’s right behind them, clearing her throat loudly. Then, they spring apart, a bit shame-faced but apparently resigned to the ticking-off they’re about to receive.
‘I have told you before, I will not have you flaunting your relationship. In front of Fourth Years too! Really, Mr. Lupin, I am tempted to take away your prefect’s badge.’
She hardly needs to mention that all the Marauders will have many weeks of punishment for their part in ruining the Yule Ball; she does remind them that it has actually been put back specially so Remus can attend.
‘She didn’t mention Prongs’s badge,’ Sirius grumbles, when she’s finally left them alone.
‘That’s because Prongs hasn’t got a boyfriend,’ Remus says.
‘Neither does Castor,’ says Sirius gloomily, as his third cousin, sporting a black eye and cut lip, slinks away from the Great Hall. ‘Shit, he’ll jinx me to hell and back tomorrow when he’s figured out what happened.’
The ball resumes, miraculously. James and Peter are surrounded by a crowd of students clamouring to know what charms they used. James later reveals that the Ravenclaw boys have offered to pay them to put a permanent spell on Snape. ‘Looks like Castor Rowntree isn’t the only one who fell in love with him,’ he sniggers.
Now the prank and the telling-off are over, Remus and Sirius are dancing together again, in full view of the staff at the High Table. ‘We can’t be punished twice,’ Sirius has pointed out, reasonably enough. They’re swaying roughly in time to the music, which has also resumed. Remus’s eyes are nearly closed and his head is on Sirius’s shoulder; Sirius is holding him very tightly, and his eyes are closed completely. Quite a few girls have stopped dancing and are staring at them, including Peter’s date.
Like any teenagers in love, they’re in a world of their own, and don’t even notice.
End