The Marauders - Order of the Phoenix - Part Two

Professor Binns's Deathday

"In Sirius's chair, alright," Wally nodded and scrambled over to sit in the old wooden chair, grinning at an etching where Sirius Black had dragged his wand over the wood and left his initials carved into the desk. McGonagall had, indeed, spent at least an hour one day working to get that blasted etching off but whatever Sirius Black had done to put it there had been quite obstinant about coming up. Much like Sirius Black himself.

Despite having changed the subject with Wally - who was now thinking he was being quite original and clever for hiding a Quidditch magazine inside of his potions text book - Minerva McGonagall couldn't simply flip away from the memory of Professor Binns's very first Deathday...

It had started in the Trophy Room Passageway after breakfast. She and Fleamont Potter had skipped breakfast with what they were calling stomach aches but were honestly actually hangovers from liberal celebrations the night before over a won quidditch match.

"We've best be getting moving," Minerva muttered from the floor, "We're going to be late for class if we don't soon."

"I don't want to go to History of Magic," Fleamont moaned. "It's so bloody boring. Someday - mark my words - someday somebody's going to die in that class - die of boredom."

"Och, well, t'isnt as though we've a choice, Monty," she answered, and she dutifully pushed herself up from the floor, wincing as her head felt near to splitting. No more firewhiskey after a win, she told herself, it just wasn't worth it, but even as she thought it she knew she'd do it again.

"Sure we have a choice, we could just not go," Fleamont replied. He squinted at her from under the pillow he'd smooshed onto his face to block out the light, his eye barely peeping out.

"We've skivved nearly every class since New Year," Minerva laughed. "We cannae keep doin' it or else eventually Binns will have to notice and report it to Dumbledore. I reckon too if we're not there that Alastor will see to it Dumbles hears about it himself. Al said he wasn't going to keep his mouth shut through much more. You don't want to be kicked from the Quidditch team, now do you?"

Fleamont let out a long stream of a sigh. "Alright. Why do you always have to be right? I'm at least napping in the classroom."

"At least ye'll be there," she said.

Fleamont chucked the pillow down and grabbed his Gryffindor jumper from the arm of the couch and followed Minerva through the tunnel, down the twisting stone steps and over the wide trenches. The corridors were busy with students going to and from DADA courses and they had to wait for a few moments before they slipped out from behind the tapestry and started on their way to the History wing.

Hermes was waiting outside the door, leaning against the wall. "Bloody hell where have you two been?" he asked, standing up right as they came, "Been waiting ages, haven't I?"

"Sorry Hermy," Fleamont murmured, "You did us both in last night."

Hermes smirked.

Fleamont shoved into the classroom and Hermes reached over Minerva's head to hold the door open for her, "After you, m'lady," he said cordially.

"Thank you, Hermes," she said as she ducked under his arm.

Despite being quite late to start off to the class, not everyone was there - Binns hadn't even come out of his office yet. Fleamont looked at Minerva with a bit of surprise as the pair of them, plus Hermes, slid into three seats at the back of the classroom. Minerva opened her text books on the desk top as Fleamont and Hermes started flicking balls of parchment at one another, playing a sort of sport of trying to hit one another in the face.