The Marauders: Year Seven Part One

Can You Lot Keep a Secret?

James hesitated again, "Well...."

"You didn't tell her yet?" Remus looked surprised.

James bit his lip, "Well. I was thinking about... surprising her."

"Girls like surprises," chimed in Sirius.

Remus said, "I'd have thought you would've told her during your family dinner."

James said, "Yes, well, that was the plan, but you've met my parents. Amplify their usual curious mode by about a hundred, and add the first girl friend I've really brought home to meet them, plus her mum, and see what you come up with for an answer to solve why I didn't."

Sirius said, "Like the bloody inquisition, that must've been."

"Exactly. I couldn't get a word in even if I wanted to. So then after dinner, Lily and I went for a walk, and I was going to tell her then but -- well, first off we got, er, distracted."

"More like your mouth was full of her tongue, or vice versa," Sirius intoned.

Remus said, "We're quite versed in that form of distraction."

James laughed, "Yes, exactly. Well, after we kissed a good deal, I was going to tell her, and then she bloody pulls out her purse and -- she's made Headgirl."

"Well aren't you two just a fucking couple?" Sirius said, shaking his head. "Are you hearing this, Moony?"

"I am," Remus replied.

Sirius said, "Dumbledore, the match maker."

Remus smirked.

James said, "And anyway, I couldn't just... follow up her good news with my own and make hers seem in some way less important. She gets enough of that with blasted Petunia running about." He rolled his eyes, "That sister of hers..."

"Oh I remember," Sirius nodded solemnly. "Ruddy little --" he made a groaning sound.

Remus said, "Yeah, from what Lily's told me herself, she sounds like quite the charming individual."

"Her and her fat walrus of a boyfriend deserve one another," Sirius declared. "Now there's an arsehole of a bloke that makes you wonder if ol' You Know Who isn't onto something with his anti-muggle policy."

James laughed, "I'd be alright with it if he wanted to start an anti-Vernon Durlsey policy."

"Defense Against The Wide Arse," Sirius said, "A beginner's course in avoiding the fuck out of that beast."

Remus said, "I've been lucky and avoided him naturally."

James picked up the dragon hide gloves again. "I suppose the Quidditch Captain slash Headboy deserves some nice new gloves."

"YES HE DOES!" Sirius spoke up, grinning.

James hesitated, then picked up a second pair. "And I suppose the, um, star player and Captain's girlfriend might like some, too?" he grinned.

"YES I WOULD!" Sirius said, snapping up the second pair. "It is a Tuesday, after all." He winked at Remus, then smooched James wetly on the cheek.

Besides being the first day that Sirius was allowed to be out of St. Mungo's, it was also another day. August 7. Peter Pettigrew's seventeenth birthday.

His mum and dad had barely acknowledged it. 

He kept hoping that something would be different at dinner, that the skim-over this morning was leading up to something grand later on, but it didn't really seem as though that were the case.

Peter was wishing he hadn't told James that he'd be out of the country for his birthday. He wondered what Mrs. Potter's butterbeer cake tasted like (probably the most amazing thing ever), and if James and the other lads missed him (probably not). He pictured the dinner they'd have - in his mind it was roast with all the fixings - followed up by that bloody amazing cake and he pictured presents and hugs from his friends and sleeping under the stars in the backyard in a tent, listening to Sirius ask stupid questions until after midnight, when he would drift off to sleep, listening to the others sleeping noises.

But instead he'd spent the weekend sitting in the muggle library, reading books about the Empire State Building (James had gotten it all wrong and Peter was glad he'd looked it up) and what things like Broadway were so he had something to tell them when the Marauders asked how his trip had gone.

He hated himself or making up such a manky excuse. He would've done anything to be near to his friends right now - anything at all.

Well, anything except steal James Potter's watch, that is.

Peter now sat alone at the muggle library, outside and eating a sandwich he had pathetically made by himself that morning. He stared down into the sandwich.

Suddenly a shadow passed over him, and he looked up and his stomach twisted right into a knot.