The Marauders: Year Four

Defender of the House Elves

Defender of the House Elves

"What do you reckon would happen if we filled a werewolf with helium?" Sirius's voice whispered in Remus's ear, the invisibility cloak clutched around him as he shuffled along after the other three into the Great Hall. 

"He'd sound funny when he talked," Remus answered under his breath.

"He'd also be able to get to his seat at the Gryffindor table," Sirius snickered.

Remus suppressed the laugh that threatened to bubble out of his throat at this.

James was doing an excellent job at pretending to be just as shocked as the other students were about the house tables hanging from the ceiling.

Frank looked up at the ceiling as he walked into the Great Hall, followed by Ali and Lily, and let out a guffaw. He looked at the boys, "How did you do it, then?" he asked without so much as a blink of hesitation.

"Do what? This? Us? Bloody hell, man, what do you think we are?" James asked, then... grin crawling about his mouth... "Geniuses?"

"Yes, actually, yes," Frank replied.

Lily looked about the floor, which was covered with an image of billowing clouds and bright sunshine. "How did you lot do this? Is it seriously the whole castle, then?"

Peter nodded eagerly, "The whole castle!"

Ali snickered, "Merlin's beard."

Lily stared up at the tables. "Okay, geniuses," she said, looking at James sideways, "How do we eat breakfast?"

Peter looked very panicked and turned to Remus, then James, then back to Remus, "GUYS... How DO we eat breakfast?!?"

It took the staff the better half of two days to get all the furniture down from the ceilings. So in the meantime, all the students had the fun adventure of picnic-style eating, sitting about the floor in the great hall while the house elves scurried about with little trays because when they tried to magically serve the food as they usually did it all went spilling to the floor in great gobs and splashes.

Alastor Moody stopped by where the Marauders were sitting on the floor on his way by during the dinner hour that night, his magical eye swiveling about as though analyzing the air around them. "I've heard you're quite the little pranksters," he grumbled, studying them with his stationary, real eye. "Heard Dumbledore himself has called you the key purveyors of magical mischief making."

Remus, Peter, and James all exchanged glances. "Well, yeah I s'pose he has," said James.

Moody's magical eye roved up to the ceiling, then back down to the boys. "Do you know anything about that?"

James looked up at the ceiling, then back down to Moody. "About that?"

"Yes. About that." Moody's magical eye was still swirling about around them, as though... searching...

James shook his head, "No sir. I don't know about that."

"Are you absolutely certain, Potter, that you don't know a single thing about... that?" Moody asked lowly.

James said, "Sir, are you suggesting that it was me who stuck the Gryffindor house table to the ceiling? Because you're quite mistaken. I wasn't the one who's stuck the tables to the ceiling. Sir."

Moody studied him.

"I solemnly swear it," James said. And he wasn't lying. After all, it'd been Sirius that had done the house tables.