"Fine." Regulus said, folding his arms. "I just wanted to let you know that mother and father asked me and Narcissa to watch you. And report back to them."
Sirius made a noise of disgust. Regulus continued, not dropping his gaze, "And we're not going to. We're both staying out of it, ok?"
"How noble of you." Sirius replied. James grinned. Regulus rolled his eyes again.
"I'm telling you I'm not your enemy, idiot. Nor is Narcissa. You can do whatever you like, that's between you and our parents."
"Good."
"Good."
The two brothers continued to stare each other down. If it had been James, he'd have broken into a smile, slapped Sirius on the shoulder and all would be forgotten. But Regulus was clearly just as pig-headed as Sirius, and couldn't tell when to end a fight.
"Ow!" Peter let out a yelp like a whipped puppy, crouching down suddenly. Barty Crouch had obviously grown bored of the family drama and had decided to dive bomb the smallest of the marauders with his sharp paper plane. Crouch was giggling meanly as the place backed up and prepared for it's second attack, when James pulled out his own wand,
"Incendio." He said, lazily, flicking his wrist in Crouch's direction. The plane, wings now alight, went soaring towards the first year boy with frightening speed. Crouch let out a cry of anguish, covering his face with his arms as the flaming projectile flew straight for him - only to fizzle out mid-air, crumbling in a pile of ash and cinders inches from Crouch's nose.
"Let's go." Regulus muttered to his friend, who had gone pale and was staring at James warily. They both set off back towards the dungeons. "Narcissa said to tell you good luck for Saturday, Potter." Regulus threw over his shoulder as they turned a corner.
James ignored him, following Sirius through the portrait hole. Once they were all in the common room Remus asked,
"What's Saturday?"
"Quidditch match. Gryffindor v Slytherin." James replied, promptly.
Ah. Remus was no good at keeping up with the quidditch schedule - he only went to Gryffindor matches, and the last one had fallen on the day after a full moon, so he'd missed it anyway. He tended to tune out when the others started talking about tactics and league tables, burying his nose deeper in his book.
"I hope you thrash 'em, mate." Sirius growled, throwing himself into the nearest armchair.
"Plan to." James said, jovially, sitting on the arm of the chair. "S'long as she doesn't get the snitch too early - and Marlene's the best beater we've had in years, so--"
James stopped short, realising what he'd said. He looked at Sirius. Sirius groaned and stood up.
"I'm going to bed." He said.
* * *
Saturday 13th January 1973
It had snowed overnight. If Hogwarts had been any normal school, Remus thought to himself grumpily, they would have called off the stupid match. But no; instead Gryffindor common room was buzzing with excitement, with talk of how these were 'perfect flying conditions'. Peter and Remus spent half the morning trying to cast long-lasting warming spells on James's kit. Sirius had done one of his early morning vanishing acts, and was nowhere to be seen.
Adil Deshmakh, the Gryffindor team captain, made the team eat together at breakfast, rather than with their friends. They all sat there looking pale and tired, eating uniform bowls of porridge and fruit (on Deshmakh's orders). James was the only one in a good mood - even though they hadn't got the warming spell to work.
Second Year: Gryffindor vs. Slytherin
Start from the beginning
