The Marauders: Year Four

The Meeting Room

The Meeting Room

The sun came up on the morning of the meeting to find James Potter and Sirius Black sitting on the floor in the fourth year dormitory pouring over all the parchments and notes that James had gathered together. Sirius looked over the list of names, his hair perfectly styled again now that he had access to shower, mirror, and James's entire pot of Sleekeazy potion. He ran his finger down the list of students that were going to attend, and looked up, "Alabastar Jackason? Isn't he a bloody Slytherin?"

"Yeah he's a Slytherin, but he says he wants to fight Voldemort, so I told him to come," James said with a shrug.

Sirius made a face, then turned back to the parchment.

"Says Voldy killed his whole family," James explained. "He has a good reason to want to fight."

"I didn't say he didn't."

"You made a face," James said with a shrug. "I'm just trying to be diplomatic about it, you know? I don't want to be like the Slytherins and be excluding anybody just because they aren't like us."

Sirius looked up, "That's very mature of you, Potter, and probably why you're going to be a damn fine leader of this movement." Sirius handed back the parchment.

James looked surprised, "Me the leader? Bloody hell, no. That's what you're here for!"

Sirius raised an eyebrow, "Mate, I don't trust even half these people with knowing I'm in the castle. I won't be attending the meeting at all now that it's being held in the castle. At least not visibly." He grinned and glanced over at the invisibility cloak, where it lay spilling out of James's trunk, all silvery-shimmery.

James looked bewildered. "Hang on, but you're the one that's got all the information! You're the one that's good at things like this! I've never been a leader before. How can you expect me to be a leader when I've never been a leader before?!"

"You'll figure it out," Sirius answered, then, seeing Remus was waking up, he leaped up and jumped over the sprawled out parchments on the floor, flinging himself onto the bed, right on top of Remus, producing a loud oomfph! "MORRRNING MOOONYYYY!" he sing-songed and he gathered Remus up in what was quite possibly the most obnoxious hug that had ever existed. He grinned. "How's my lovely Moony-kins today?"

Remus was positively squashed against Sirius's chest. "Better if I could breathe, mate," he grunted.

Sirius laughed. Then, "What do you reckon would happen if we took a werewolf to the very peak of Mount Everest?"

"He'd freeze," Remus answered. "Or else he'd fall and slide all the way back down on his arse."

"We'd give him a jumper, obviously," Sirius said.

James snorted, "And an ice pick, of course. So the sliding wouldn't happen. Although that sounds like a good time."

"Good one, James -- an ice pick! Excellent thinking!" Sirius turned to look at Remus, their faces so close together that Remus looked as though he only had one eye in Sirius's view, their noses touching. "And the jumper would keep him warm."

"A jumper! Against subzero temperatures, over eight-thousand-feet above sea level?!" Remus shook his head, "He'll need a lot more than a jumper, mate." He rolled away from Sirius and, speaking of jumpers, grabbed his from where he'd hung it over the headboard, and shrugged it on, kicking his feet into his slippers as Sirius lounged back across the duvet.

"We'll provide him one of those ickle doggies with the collars with a barrel of bourbon tied about his neck!" James suggested.

Remus looked at Sirius, "Think Snuffles could manage a collar like that?"