Casting Moonshadows

79. Operation Recreate Goblin Battles

"Was there ever a cause too lost,

Ever a cause that was lost too long..."

Robert Frost

Remus

Sirius's and James's plan for their 'tutoring' sessions with the younger students involved surprisingly little maliciousness – even for the little, petrified Slytherin students who had been placed under their care. Remus had to make a concerted effort to curb their more ambitious plans, but saw no reason to put a limit on a bit of general chaos and mayhem – as long as it was in the interests of learning.

Their plan had been inspired by a bloke called Hayes Noel whom Peter had read about in a Muggle newspaper that Christmas. He'd invented a game which involved filling a Muggle gun with harmless paint balls and shooting them at people in a pretend battle. Not surprisingly, the potential for harmless, messy, violent fun could not be passed up by the Marauders and 'Operation Recreate Goblin Battles to Spite Binns' was born.

Remus couldn't quite remember how he'd become swept up in helping to transfigure 'goblin armour' or researching spells to 'make wands shoot painty-stuff'. He definitely didn't know how he had ended up being the one who had to plough through all the tedious history texts to 'pick out the cool bits and leave out the boring stuff', or how he'd managed to land the job of once again raiding Slughorn's potion stores for bitterwort, knotgrass and black chokeberry.

"You're all sneaky," Sirius had told him brightly. "And if he catches you, you're less likely to be expelled than James and me."

"I thought you were supposed to be nice to me. That's one of the rules of being in a relationship, you know."

"Rubbish. The only time my father is ever nice to my Mum is by accident." Sirius grinned and ruffled Remus's hair in an incredibly annoying and patronising way. "Besides, we both know that you're itching to do something a wee bit mischievous. Your inner Marauder starts kicking up a right old fuss when you're forced to be prefect-ly for too long, and you've had to be very good to keep Prongs and me under control over the past week."

Remus really couldn't deny this and Sirius knew it. It was boring having to be the voice of reason all the time: "No, Sirius, transfiguring first years into real goblins is not an option"; "No, James, small bags of rocks are not as harmless as paint...yes, even when used on Slytherins"; "No, Peter, that potion is not meant to be edible. That is why your tongue is yellow and your ears have grown three feet. In a few minutes, when you find yourself farting green smoke, it'll hopefully teach you to ignore James Potter when he starts any sentence beginning with 'I bet you wouldn't...'."

Now, Remus found himself slipping as silently as he could into Slughorn's private office – a room that smelled eye-wateringly of ancient potions and potent herbs. He stopped outside the stock cupboard and raised his wand to whisper the lock-picking charm that was an essential part of any good Marauder's repertoire when there was a rustle of fabric behind him that would have been completely unnoticeable to anyone without werewolf hearing, and a wand pressed into his lower back.

Remus prepared himself to retaliate, knowing that even in this vulnerable position he could probably disarm the attacker before he had time to cast a spell.

"Well, well, Lupin. This is interesting. My brother has to have put you up to it."

Remus sighed quietly and relaxed again. "Regulus." He turned, the tip of Regulus's wand not wavering so it traced a steady line round his waist until it pointed at his navel. "Does Slughorn know you make a practice of lurking around in his office in the dark?"