Pesky Little Words

It all started when he came out of the closet.

Quite literally, actually, although a certain Sirius Black liked to think otherwise.

But to understand why that happened and what it caused, you had to start a little further back. So to rephrase; it all started when he made a real cock up.

…This time, not so literally.



The full moon was bright in the blackness of the night, pieces of silvery light swirling through the darkness and eliciting a rare ethereal beauty. One could have thought it quite spectacular, and James supposed that he might have, if not for the man by his side.

"Prongs… I think-" A pause. "I think I migh' love you."

"Merlin's Beard Sirius, why do you always feel the need to get piss-drunk before we do this?" James clenched the invisibility cloak tighter around their figures, bare skin shivering in the frigid wind. "Lord knows we could use our brains right now… considering the circumstances."

Sirius snorted – rather loudly, actually, and wrapped his arm around his friend's shoulder. "Wha'… that our frien's a dog?" he laughed, a curl of black hair falling in front of his glowing eyes.

James stared at Padfoot pointedly, arching a single, sardonic brow. "Quite ironic, one might say."

The words of intelligence were lost on the sixth year, rather like the seven flasks of butterbeer had been.

"I'm quite friendly with the animals, you know. Go' a rat as a friend too. Some migh' call me-"

James stiffened, hand gripping at his friend's dark robes as the sound of soft chatter filled his ears. He became suddenly aware of everything; the sound of his friend's heavy breathing and chattering, the feeling of a rat sitting on his right shoulder and the kiss of the wind against his bare ankles. The sound of leaves rustling, the glare of the ominous moon and… was it…?

"Snivellus," he growled.

A snort. "God no! I was goin' more for Snow White, you know… with the anima-"

He clapped a hand over his rambling friend's mouth, dark eyes flickering fiercely with a glare that brought the boy to silence. "I meant I can hear Snivellus. He's around here." Hazel eyes flickered across the grassed area, catching sight of a small, barely visible light down towards Hagrid's hut. It was further away from the Whomping Willow, but James was nothing if not determined, and with a fleeting glance at his watch he began to walk swiftly towards the light, dragging his inebriated friend along with him.

One hand still clasped over Sirius' mouth and the other clenching the front of the invisibility cloak against them, his bare feet padded against the grass-laden field, toes curling in wisps of dirt and crunching against leaves. He tried to be as quiet as he could; Sirius, on the other hand, made about the same amount of noise as a baby giraffe learning how to walk.

Coming to a stop beside the large hut, James peered around the corner, frowning slightly at the sight of the Slytherin standing with his back to the boys. He could hear two voices – or was it three? – that seemed to be coming from where Severus stood, but with eyes strained against the growing darkness he couldn't see any faces.

"Did you tell him?"

Silence. "Huh? What did you say Pro-" Groaning, he smothered his friend's voice, the corners of his eyes scrunching up as he prayed not to be heard. Severus seemed to stiffen, his back becoming tense as he slowly turned around, black eyes glaring out into the darkness. James' breathing quickened as his fingers reached towards his back pocket, curling over the tip of his wand; waiting… cautiously waiting.

The gelid wind was fierce and it kept brushing against the bottom of his cloak, revealing bare ankles to the world around them. Under the moonlight he felt suddenly exposed in just a pair of boxers and the blanket of the invisibility cloak, which was so thin that he could barely feel it at all.

He saw a flicker of brown hair behind Severus, whose eyes had finished trailing across the field, his back facing towards him once more. Trying to step forward to see who it was that he was talking to, James groaned when his vision was cut off by the back of a greasy head of hair. "Of course," he muttered, dark eyes narrowing, "his head's too bloody big to see anything."

"Tomorrow. 6pm, Room of Requirement, while everyone else is at dinner. I'll be w-"

A sharp nip at his ear brought him out of his thoughts and he yelped slightly, hazel eyes blazing with aggravation as they glanced down at the rat on his shoulder. "Wormy? What the-" He became suddenly aware of how light the area was becoming, and glanced hesitantly towards the sky. The moon was nearly raised fully into the sky, a beautifully bright eclipse of luminosity that seemed almost wraithlike against the blackness of the night. Cursing, his eyes wandered back over to the Slytherin, who still seemed to be talking to someone, and in the newly vibrant light of the moon he could see the outline of two figures standing just left of Severus. One seemed to be… was it…? James narrowed his eyes, leaning forward slightly. Mulciber...? It was a stocky lad at the very least, adorned in Slytherin robes and holding the wand, its light smothered poorly under a stumpy hand and held close to the ground.

But who was the last one? He let out a yelp when another sharp nip caught him unaware, and immediately black eyes snapped up the where he stood, slightly terse with fear, lingering for a second before trailing across the empty field. But then another pair of eyes met his… startlingly blue, the colour of the sky on the clearest of days, clouded by a shadow of fear and an almost undeniable aura of doubt. They seemed to linger – shakily, hesitantly, and he couldn't place them, though there was something prodding at the back of his mind… something important.

A distant shriek brought him out of his thoughts and he silently cursed, lowering his hand from his friend's mouth. Sirius seemed to have sobered up at the startling sound, and a large, black dog appeared at his side, nudging its head against his calf. The rat scurried down his shoulder and onto the ground, perched carefully in the grass, glancing back with a look too human for a rodent. Leaning down, he picked up the other Marauder's boxers and removed his own, clenching the cloak tighter around his body. And with a glance back at the mysterious trio, the dog, the rat and the boy disappeared into the night.



"I'm telling you; they were up to something."

They were on their way back from dropping Remus at the Hospital Wing, after being shooed away by an exasperated Madam Pomfrey, whose eyes had almost popped out of her head at the sight of their friend. Scratches had covered his body, large, illusive bite marks etched into his arms and legs, and though this was a regular occurrence for the sixth year – after a full moon, of course, his current predicament seemed to be somewhat worse than usual.

Madam Pomfrey always endeavoured to set up a separate room for the boy, heaven forbid someone see him in the condition he was in and tarnish the Prefect's flawless reputation – words that had, in fact, come from said Prefect in a moment of vexation. And though the Marauders had offered to put their reputations on line in order to protect their friend's secret, all were thankful that they had never been caught.

"What on earth could they be up to, Prongs? It's Snivellus. The most exciting thing he does in his day is blow his unnaturally greasy hair out of his eyes."

"Outside? After curfew? Be serious… erm… Sirius." Pushing his hair out of his eyes, James adjusted his glasses over his face. "It's got to be something to do with Voldemort, or something dark at the very least. Why else would they meet in the Room of Requirement? Where no one can hear them?"

Sirius stopped, his head whipping around to stare at his friend. "Wait… how do they know about the Room of Requirement?"

Peter, who had – until then, been silent, also seemed baffled by this. "I thought only we knew about that room?" he said, eyebrows furrowing up in confusion.

The Marauders had stumbled across the room one day in Fourth Year after Transfiguration, when James had desperately needed a cigarette, and in desperation had staggered in through the first door he saw. Ever since then the room had been used for a variety of reasons, some quite productive, and others… not productive in the slightest.

James sighed, looking at his friends with dark eyes. "I don't know. But I know they're up to something."

Peter frowned, digging his hands in the pockets of his robes. "I think we should just leave it. There's no point trying to fi-"

"Mr Potter. Mr Black. Mr Pettigrew. May I ask why you are out of your dormitory this early in the morning, and carrying a pair of boxers in your hand no less?"

Stiffening, the Marauders turned to look at Professor McGonagall, the smallest of the three with wide, frightened eyes, guilty because he was hardly one to commit a wrongdoing, especially when compared to the other two.

James' eyes trailed to his right, catching sight of a pair of maroon boxers scrunched up in his friend's hand, a piece of the silky material hanging down in the gap where his hand was clenched together. He must've forgotten to put them on when we found our robes, he figured, his lips tilting upwards in amusement. But then he realised that this would mean that Sirius was, in fact, not wearing any underwear at all, and his face screwed up in disgust.

“Never mind," she said sternly, the corners of her lips twitching upwards ever-so-slightly before returning to their usual frown. "I don't want to know. Just return to your dormitories before someone else finds you in your... shall we say… thwarting predicament," she finished, eyeing off the pair of boxers in the tallest boy's hand.

"Yes of course, Professor. You're looking wonderful today, by the way," James said smoothly, watching her eyes flicker upwards in sardonic exasperation before she walked away, sending them a final, sharp glance.

The three boys walked in silence all the way back to the Gryffindor Common Room, where Peter muttered the password and they entered, immediately heading up to their dormitory. "I don't care what you two do," James said finally, pulling on the grey socks he always wore when he was sleeping and climbing on top of his bed, "I'm finding out what he's up to."

The two sleeping boys did nothing but snore in response.



And that's how James Potter and Sirius Black found themselves huddled up inside an empty closet in the Room of Requirement at six pm that same day, their ears pressed against the wooden door as they tried desperately to stay silent. Sirius had come along for the mere excitement of exposing a secret and the possibility of turmoil, whilst James had been determined to find out what was going on. And when he heard the voice of Severus Snape floating out across the room, he pressed his ear so roughly against the wood that the door sprung open, and he fell – ungracefully – out of the closet and into the arms of a very shocked Lily Evans.