5

466Chapter 5: A Taste of the Past

Edited 12/26/17

A Taste of the Past

That evening, Harry was sitting in the common room with Tonks when Lily came up to Harry out of the blue.

"Hi. Harrison, right?"

Harry nodded, swallowing the sudden lump in his throat. His mouth was dry.

"I'm Lily Evans, prefect. Sorry it's taken me so long to introduce myself; it's been busy. If you have any questions, you can come to me."

"Thanks," Harry replied, hoping she didn't notice the slight hoarseness in his voice.

"I also wanted to say, I was impressed by what you did in Potions today," she continued.

Harry sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck. "It's nothing, really. I like to cook, and Potions is like coo—"

"I meant sitting beside Sev—Snape," she interrupted, as politely as one can interrupt. "He's not a pleasant person to be around, and almost nobody likes him."

"I saw an empty seat and I took it," Harry replied. "He seemed pleasant enough to me," he added with slight defensiveness. Sure, he was an absolute arse in the future, but he couldn't be that bad now, right? Why did everyone hate him?

"It's still a good thing to have done," she said with a note of finality. "By the way, these are my roommates," she said, motioning to the girls who had approached while they talked. "Marlene McKinnon, Mary MacDonald, and Alice Smith."

"It's nice to meet you," Harry said, nodding to each girl in turn.

It was nice to finally put names to faces. Marlene was tall with dark hair and a cheeky grin, and was the girl who'd sat by Tonks during Potions. Alice had been Lily's seat partner. She bore a remarkable resemblance to Neville, which told him she was to be the future Mrs. Longbottom. He tried not to think about her fate. Mary hadn't been in Potions, but he recognized her from Herbology. She had short, light brown hair and an infectious smile. She also blushed lightly when Harry nodded to her and smiled in greeting. He morphed away an answering flush and looked at Marlene, who had spoken.

"Same to you, Harrison," Marlene replied. The other two girls nodded in agreement.

"How do you like Hogwarts so far?" Alice asked casually.

"Er…" The girls' attention made him uncomfortable. Tonks was also grinning widely, he noticed out of the corner of his eye, and he couldn't help but wonder if she'd set this up. He glared at her. "It's all right," Harry said in answer to Alice. "Sorry to bail so quickly, but I'd like to get started on some homework before it gets too late,"

"That's fine," Mary said, her voice pitched higher than usual. Harry nodded awkwardly and slipped away, making for the dormitory. He neatly evaded James's attempts to drag him into conversation and hurried up the stairs.

Harry dressed in his pajamas and went through his nighty routine, then he settled cross-legged in the middle of his bed and drew the hangings shut. He then closed his eyes and slipped into a trance-like state as he began his nightly Occlumency exercises.

Carefully he catalogued his memories from that day, as well as the information he'd learned in his classes that day, then went further back as he worked toward his earliest memories. By this point he'd gotten through all but his first year at Hogwarts, having started at the beginning of the summer (before the time-travel accident). His hope was to be done sorting his memories by Halloween at the latest and then start work on the second step: constructing a protective layer in his mind.

He ended his exercises for the night by cataloguing the troll incident his first Halloween at Hogwarts and then let the images fade and opened his eyes on the familiar dormitory, with unfamiliar dormmates. A faint wave of nostalgia slid over him as he remembered the friends he'd left behind as he lay down on his bed.

It was strange, he thought, lying in his normal bed after the first day of his sixth year, but twenty years in the past and having just spent the day being introduced to dead people. While he was glad he got the chance to get to know the people who should have been in his life all along, he was beginning to realize it wasn't all he'd imagined it would be. Sirius was a git, James was a prat, Remus was shy, and Harry had no idea what to think about Peter. He missed his friends from the future—Ron, Hermione, the rest of the Weasleys, the Remus of his time who had become a sort of father figure to him.

After a short while, his roommates' voices penetrated the quiet and darkness of the dorm. When he heard Sirius's voice, though, so similar and yet so different from what he knew, Harry felt an ache in his chest that would become a constant companion in the next few weeks and months as he remembered just how much he had lost. It hurt to be so close, and yet so far away. To them, he was just an interesting dorm mate and transfer student. To him, they were meant to be his family. But they had no idea.

Eventually, Harry drifted into an uneasy sleep, filled with flashes of the future and the people he missed the most.

Harry quickly fell into a routine. Classes, socializing and attempting to tolerate his dorm mates, homework, sleep, and repeat. Said dorm mates were trying very hard to tell him all the secrets a budding troublemaker should know about Hogwarts. They gave him a grand tour of the castle and caught him up on all the gossip. Harry tried not to show how much he already knew about the castle, but it was difficult when James and Sirius enthusiastically showed him a secret passage they'd only just discovered that Harry had found in his second year, and introduced him to some noteworthy portraits that had saved Harry from Filch the caretaker many times in his own years of sneaking around after curfew.

Harry had his first taste of Arithmancy bright and early on Monday morning. Tonks, James, and Remus shared the class with him. The coursework was just what he'd anticipated from his study over the summer and the material came easily. He also had his first Charms class of the year that same Monday. Flitwick was the same as always, excitable and enthusiastic. There was, however, an unusual emphasis on the use of charms in combat. It seemed the professors were taking the brewing war seriously, unlike in Harry's time. In the future, it was swept under the rug and ignored in hopes it would go away.

The most eventful day of the week was Wednesday, which happened to be the full moon. Remus had been looking sickly all day, culminating in his admittance to the Hospital Wing shortly before dinner after he'd nearly collapsed in the corridor, his skin chalk-white and clammy. It wasn't hard to show genuine concern for the other boy, but Harry had a hard time not making any comments that would in any way relate Remus's sickness to him being a werewolf. It was far too early in the term for Harry to even have suspicions. If he dared suggest it, the others would hex him into oblivion—after vehemently denying it until they were blue in the face.

By evening, Harry could tell the other three boys were on edge. Several times in the last few days he'd spotted them with their heads together, murmuring to each other—probably planning how they were going to sneak out past Harry. As the time drew nearer—Harry kept glancing reflexively out the window every few minutes, watching for the moon to rise—Harry felt his stomach clenching in anxiety for Remus. He also felt an unexpected wave of concern for Peter, Sirius, and James.

Over the summer, with help from Tonks, Harry had become an Animagus (his form was a red wolf with russet fur). Such was his determination that he managed it in just over two months. He'd spent one full moon with future-Remus just days before the accident that sent him and Tonks into the past. Even though he had been on wolfsbane at the time, Harry knew how rough the werewolf could get. And it would only be worse without the mediating effect of the potion. And though Harry didn't yet consider James and Sirius friends, per say, he still worried about their well-being. He still wasn't sure what to think about Peter, but Harry worried about him by extension due to his connection to the others.

Right on time, someone (re: Sirius, James, and Peter) set off several dung bombs in the common room. In the ensuing commotion, no one noticed the three boys slip out under the invisibility cloak—except Harry, who was watching for them. Silently he wished them luck and half-wished he could go with them.

Taking advantage of the commotion, Harry headed upstairs. He took some time for his Occlumency, but even though he was tired, he couldn't bring himself to go to bed, not while he knew Remus was transformed without the aid of wolfsbane. It had only been three months since he'd become an Animagus, but he longed to be there for Remus—of all of them, young Remus was the only one Harry currently considered a good friend, and he hated the idea of him suffering through the transformation alone. Of course, Harry knew intellectually that he wasn't alone. But if he wasn't there himself, it felt like it.

With a knot in his stomach, Harry moved to the windowsill with a certain book he'd almost forgotten he had. The Remus from his time had given Harry his Hogwarts journals for his birthday over the summer, and he'd taken one of them with him to the Ministry the day he'd taken his last OWL, the day he and Tonks had accidentally been transported to the past. This particular one happened to be from Remus's fourth year, and aside from Remus's neat handwriting, there were pages written in his godfather's perfect calligraphy (courtesy of his pureblood upbringing), his father's messy scrawl, and even Peter's meticulous lettering.

Harry took that journal to the windowsill, opening the curtains just enough that he could read by the bright moonlight. He felt a little closer to them that way. Then he opened the journal to where he'd left off.

Harry soaked in each memory recorded in the journal, treasuring details he had yet to notice in their current selves. As he ran his fingers over his godfather's recounting of a particularly spectacular prank, he felt a lump rise in his throat. Then he realized his fingers were trembling. Merlin, he missed him, the godfather who'd tried so hard to be there for him even when he was living in his own personal hell. He missed the freedom of being himself, not having to worry about letting slip a huge secret that could ruin everything. He missed his friends—Hermione's cool logic and constant presence, Ron's unwavering loyalty, the Weasley twins' ability to make him laugh when it was the last thing he wanted to do. He missed his Remus, the one who had become a mentor and a surrogate father to him through their time together that summer before being thrust into the past.

Eventually the words began to swim on the page before him and Harry could no longer hold his eyes open. He fell asleep with his cheek pressed against the cool window glass, silver moonlight illuminating his face. He didn't stir the whole night.

Just after sunrise, the three Marauders stumbled into the dormitory, tired but mostly unhurt. They were surprised to find their new roommate leaning, fast asleep, against the window, bathed in the early dawn light and with a book lying open on his lap.

"Why do you suppose he's there instead of in bed?" Sirius wondered. "That looks frightfully uncomfortable."

"You don't think he noticed we were gone and was waiting up for us, do you?" James asked, concerned.

Sirius shrugged. "Maybe he wanted to get some extra studying in. He is a bit nerdy."

James elbowed him in the ribs. "Be nice," he hissed.

"Did he always have red in his hair?" Peter asked suddenly. Sure enough, upon closer inspection, James and Sirius noticed the red highlights in his hair that they hadn't ever noticed before.

"Maybe he was practicing some spells and fell asleep before he could undo it?" Sirius suggested.

"Whatever the reason, we should probably wake him soon; classes start in an hour and a half and we still need breakfast," James pointed out.

"He looks so peaceful, though," Peter said, trailing off. "But…sad, too."

James and Sirius looked again and sure enough, there was a trace of sadness on their roommate's face. Like he missed someone dear to him in a way that went far beyond simple homesickness. Brows furrowed, musing on what reason their roommate would have to be sad while at Hogwarts, the greatest place in the world, the three boys went on with their morning routine.

With a half-hour to go until classes, Harry still hadn't stirred. Sirius took it upon himself to wake him up. "Oy, Carter!" Sirius shouted right in his ear. "Wake up!"

Harry jerked awake, instinctively slinging his wand in the direction of the disturbance. Sirius yelped as a stinging hex got him right in the forehead. Then Harry's head collided with the window with an unpleasant crash. He nearly fell off the windowsill and the journal thudded to the floor.

Sirius barely jumped back in time to avoid banging heads with him, but he laughed loudly at his reaction. Harry, hearing the painfully familiar bark-like laugh, looked around wildly for his godfather. His heart twisted at seeing sixteen-year-old Sirius standing beside him, still chuckling.

"Prat," Harry grumbled, picking up the journal off the floor. Then he saw the welt on Sirius's forehead and smirked. "But at least I got my revenge."

"Hey!" Sirius protested, rubbing at his forehead. James and Peter laughed.

"You'd better hurry," James advised, still snickering a little. "Classes start in twenty minutes."

"Bugger," Harry muttered. He hurried into the bathroom, dodging Sirius's attempt at retaliation for the stinging hex, and took the shortest shower he'd ever taken. He dressed quickly and was just in time to follow the other boys down to the Great Hall for breakfast.

Remus rejoined the student body after lunch that day, looking pale and tired but otherwise fine. Harry joined the Marauders in welcoming him back, but he couldn't help but notice a certain distance between them that hadn't been there before. At first, it had been a loose "us" when referring to himself and the Marauders. Now it felt more like a "me" and "them." And Harry was forced to realize, yet again, that he was still an outsider—in more ways than one.

After the night of the full moon, Harry found himself acutely missing his own time. He felt a twinge of loss every time he looked at Sirius or James, and a twinge of regret when looking at Remus. Peter was still a wild card. He was also beginning to realize that, as much as he desperately wished to spend months, even years, getting to know them, they could never know who he really was. Harrison Carter might become the fifth Marauder, but Harry Potter would forever be in the background, longing for the family he never had and never finding it for fear of messing up the future.

Predictably, perhaps naturally, Harry found himself seeking out Tonks more and more—the only one who knew who he really was. He was infinitely glad his surrogate sister was there with him, otherwise he would have been totally lost.

The second Sunday of term found the two time-travelers in the library. They had given their friends the excuse of homework, but it was merely a cover for studying ways to return to their time and time to catch up without any pretenses. After a few subtle privacy spells, they could speak freely without worrying about someone overhearing something they shouldn't.

"So, how's sixth year going?" Tonks asked Harry.

Harry shrugged. "Better than I expected, but not quite what I'd hoped."

Tonks nodded understandingly. "Yeah, you're not getting on well with anyone but Remus. And Snape, apparently," she added, wrinkling her nose.

"He's not all bad yet," Harry replied. "And he hasn't done anything to me, so I have no reason to dislike him."

"True, I suppose. I'm glad you haven't caught the same bug the rest of Gryffindor has."

Harry shrugged. "I'm a new person—and not just in name. What about you? Life as a teenager everything you ever dreamed?"

Tonks shrugged. "Not bad, but they're just so shallow! It's all about who likes who, what hair style to wear each day to catch the eye of a certain someone, who has better grades or a better wardrobe. It's horrifying to think I was like that once, too." She shuddered in mock revulsion. "Though my roommates aren't all terrible. Mary's a gossip, sure, and Marlene is way too into fashion, but Alice is pretty down-to-earth. And Lily is a Ravenclaw in Gryffindor robes," Tonks said. "Reminds me of a certain someone this summer," she teased.

"Hey, the next time you're told you're destined to face a dark lord, see if you don't spend the whole summer trying to figure out how to just survive," Harry retorted without bitterness. "Besides, just because I like to read doesn't mean I breathe parchment. And at least I'm only three months ahead of the curriculum. You're seven years ahead!"

Tonks raised an eyebrow. "Did no one ever teach you not to call a woman old?" Her voice was light, but her fingers twirled her wand idly.

"Careful with that," Harry said, unfazed, "or Madame Pince will kick you out for casting spells on her precious books." To Harry's amusement, Tonks glanced quickly around as though expecting to see the stern librarian. Then she turned back and glared at Harry when she saw no one.

"If you want to hex me," Harry continued, "we can go to the Room of Requirement to practice. But remember that I can give as good as I get now."

Tonks grinned. "I think I'll take you up on that, kid. You haven't officially beaten me yet."

"Then lead the way, o trigger-happy one," Harry said, smirking—she had no idea where the Room of Requirement was. She'd only heard the stories about the room and the DA.

"Nice try," Tonks said, narrowing her eyes. "You know perfectly well I don't know where it is. You can lead, with my wand tip in your back."

Harry grinned. "Put away the wand, and you've got a deal."

Tonks continued to glare at him playfully, but she stowed her wand in its holster on her wrist and gestured for Harry to lead the way.

Harry got to his feet and did so, though he led her through a very roundabout route before they finally arrived on the seventh floor. Harry cast a blindfold hex at Tonks, ignoring her protests as her vision went dark, and led her the rest of the way to the portrait of Barnabus the Barmy and his dancing trolls. He paced three times in front of the blank stone wall opposite the tapestry until the door appeared. Then he led Tonks inside and cancelled the hex.

The door had barely closed before Tonks sent the first jinx Harry's way. He dodged, having expected it, and retaliated. Immediately a duel began in earnest. The room shifted and reformed for the first few minutes before settling on an empty field resembling the one outside Harry's cottage in their time.

The spells became increasingly creative and humiliating as time wore on, until they were both out of breath and covered in a very creative variety of hair and skin colors, a few animal parts, and various other appendages and attire. It took them nearly a half-hour to cancel them all, and they returned to the common room laughing. Harry still sported a few feathers in his hair and Tonks's skin was more gold than tan.

After that, Harry and Tonks made it a point to spend most of either Saturday or Sunday in the library or the Room of Requirement. If they were in the library, they were more often than not researching ways to return to their own time. Occasionally they did homework or recreational research. If they were in the Room of Requirement, Tonks and Harry would practice dueling or practical spell application of other types. Harry also occasionally took advantage of that time to grow more acquainted with his Animagus form.

The third Saturday of term, Harry and Tonks were in the library, scanning the stacks in the very back for any hint of how to get back to their own time. Both were acutely aware that they didn't belong, though by this time they were also fairly well accustomed to their personas of "Harrison and Joselyn" and were settling in well with roommates and housemates.

They'd barely made it to their usual table, however, when their plans were foiled by the student seated in Harry's usual spot. The boy looked up in surprise at their approach, then he recognized them and his lips turned down in a distasteful grimace before pointedly ignoring them.

"Hi, Regulus," Tonks greeted cheerfully.

"Congratulations. You remember my name. Now get out of my sight, Gryffindor," Regulus sneered.

"You make that sound like an insult," Harry said casually, sitting across from him. He was taken aback by the hostility, but he realized he hadn't even acknowledged the boy since they'd met on the platform, nearly three weeks ago. Regulus probably had assumed that they'd been indoctrinated by the anti-Slytherin sentiment that was rife in Gryffindor house and hated him.

"It was supposed to be," Regulus retorted. "Now go away. I'm not in the mood for your hateful comments."

"Do you get a lot of those?" Tonks asked, sitting on Regulus's other side and virtually trapping him between them. Regulus visibly tensed.

"What do you want?" he demanded.

"World peace," Tonks declared with a perfectly straight face.

"Honeydukes Specialty Dark Chocolate Treacle Toffee bar," Harry replied with a matching expression.

"Sorry; I can't help you there," Regulus retorted dryly, but he was relaxing, ever so slightly.

"Just because we're wearing red ties doesn't mean we automatically hate green. Surprisingly, it isn't a requirement for belonging to Gryffindor house. Green actually happens to be my favorite color," Harry said, jumping right to the heart of the issue with a bit of humor.

Tonks snorted. "What my dear brother means to say is, we're sorry we haven't talked to you since the train. We're still the same people we were when Harry knocked you down on the platform. Being Sorted into Gryffindor didn't change that—he's still a buffoon."

Harry snorted, then he smiled at Regulus. "Like she said. I'm still willing to be friends if you are." He offered his hand to shake.

Regulus eyed his outstretched hand with suspicion for a long moment. Harry, feeling awkward with his hand stretched out, was about to withdraw it when Regulus finally accepted it and shook once, firmly.

"Very well. Friends. But," Regulus warned, "if either of you betray me, you had better be prepared to suffer the consequences."

"We will strive to live worthy of your trust," Tonks said solemnly, though the effect was ruined by the corners of her mouth twitching ever so slightly. The side of Regulus's mouth twitched in response, though he didn't smile. Harry had the distinct impression that smiles were few and far between for the younger Black heir.

"We study here every weekend if you'd like to join us," Harry offered on a whim. He gave Tonks a slightly apologetic look, but she smiled and shrugged.

Regulus nodded in acknowledgement, then he went back to his homework. Harry and Tonks took that as permission to remain and do the same. Harry pulled out his Ancient Runes textbook and began the reading assignment for the following week. After a moment, the scratching of a quill on parchment came from Tonks's direction as she found something to occupy herself as well.

After an hour or so, Regulus packed up his things and left with a hesitant farewell. They smiled and waved him on, saying they'd keep an eye out for him and see him next weekend.

After Regulus left, Harry and Tonks spent another hour or so searching for anything that could help them get back to their own time, or even just better understand time travel. But all they found was a tiny book—a pamphlet really—advertising the "newest" magic gadget, the time turner! Harry's heart sank upon reading that. If time turners were brand-new, it was highly unlikely they'd be able to access one, even assuming it could go forward as well as backward in time. After another forty minutes passed and they found nothing more, Tonks and Harry were forced to admit defeat for the time being. They stopped in the Great Hall for dinner then headed back to the common room.

Upon returning, Harry was immediately hailed by his roommates. He gave Tonks a longsuffering look, to which she smirked and gave him a look that said, you asked for it. Harry rolled his eyes and went to join the four boys by the fire.

"Is there something I can do for you gentlemen?" Harry asked cautiously—being hailed by the Marauders was just asking for trouble.

The last time it had happened, they handed him a strange package and ran. The package then exploded in a huge cloud of harmless smoke that filled the common room and left him coughing. But it had successfully distracted the rest of the common room's occupants from noticing a big black dog darting up the girls' staircase—only for it to turn into a slide and deposit said dog at the base of the stairs.

The time before that, they'd tried to recruit him into their big back-to-school prank and gotten him into detention on the principle of "guilty by association." They hadn't managed to pull off the prank, either; they'd been caught setting it up. Harry had a sinking feeling they were going to try again.

"We need your help!" Sirius declared.

"With what?" Harry asked warily.

"Pulling off our prank. Obviously we had it wrong last time, or we wouldn't have gotten caught. So, we need some fresh new ideas."

"And what makes you think I have anything to offer?"

"Well, the fact that you and Joselyn are always teasing each other can't possibly have anything to do with it."

"Nor the fact that you came back to the common room with feathers in your hair and she was spelled gold that one time," James added.

"There's a snowball's chance in hell—" Sirius continued.

"That you have any pranking potential whatsoever," James finished with a grin.

"Problem solved, then. I'll catch you gentlemen later," Harry said, inwardly smirking, as he made to get up and walk away.

"Hold up!"

"We were joking!"

"Don't you understand sarcasm?"

"I understand it perfectly. Sometimes I just choose not to acknowledge it. Usually, it works," Harry added dryly. Peter snickered and Remus nodded solemnly. Sirius looked highly offended and James shrugged sheepishly.

"Well, it was worth a try."

"You could always try just asking normally," Harry stated with a shrug. "Being straightforward usually gets you better results than sarcasm—even if the latter is far more entertaining."

"He's right, you know," Peter said quietly.

James and Sirius exchanged a look, then Sirius nodded.

"All right. Take two, then. Harrison, would you help us plan a prank?"

Harry opened his mouth, about to refuse just out of spite, but then he saw their expressions. Sirius's was openly pleading, James was hopeful, but that wasn't what got him. No, what got Harry to finally say yes was the spark of mischief and interest in Remus's eyes as he looked up from his book and the hopeful look in Peter's face.

"…Fine," he sighed, bracing himself for mass chaos.

"YES!" Sirius and James exclaimed in unison.

"So what have you got so far?" Harry asked in resignation.

"Well, it goes like this…" Sirius began, and then he went off on a complex, implausible idea involving color-change potions or charms, treacle tart (to which Harry protested vehemently), and Hagrid's pumpkins.

Harry stared at him in disbelief, then he burst into laughter. "That…that is most ridiculous scheme I've ever heard!"

"Thank you," Remus said fervently. "I've tried to tell him that at least half a dozen times already, but he won't believe me."

"You just need to broaden your mind!" Sirius exclaimed.

"No, I think you need to bring yours back down to earth," Harry stated frankly. "It's no wonder you were caught the first time."

"But—"

"But nothing. Why not try something simple? Like a mood-based color changing charm."

"Simple?" James asked.

"We don't do simple," Sirius declared.

"You mean like a muggle mood ring?" Remus asked, completely ignoring his friends' comments.

"Exactly," Harry said with a nod.

"Um…what exactly is a 'mood ring'?" James asked.

"It's a ring you wear on your finger that changes color based on your body temperature. Supposedly, your body temperature reflects your mood. Hence the name 'mood ring,'" Harry explained. "They make necklaces for girls, too."

"And you'd cast the charm on what, our skin?" Peter asked.

"Or hair," Harry added. "Think temporary metamorphmagus, if that helps."

"Meta-what now?" James's brow furrowed in confusion.

"Metamorphmagus. It's what we call a witch or wizard with innate self-transfiguration abilities. Until they can control it, their abilities often betray their emotions," Harry said. He felt proud that he knew something his (teenaged) father didn't know.

"Oh! My little cousin is one of those. Cutest little bugger I've ever seen," Sirius said with a surprising note of pride. Harry smirked and mentally reminded himself to relay Sirius's words to Tonks when he got a chance.

"Really? Isn't that supposed to be really rare?" Remus asked with interest.

"Yeah. She's the first in the family for centuries at least. And to think, she's a half-blood!" Sirius smirked. "Oh, the look on Auntie Druella's face when she found out Drommie had given birth to the first metamorphmagus in the Black family for generations!"

"'Drommie'? 'Druella'?" Harry asked, confused. Those were names he'd never heard before.

"Drommie is my cousin Andromeda. Aunt Druella is her mum. And a right bitch, too," Sirius supplied. "Though not as bad as Mum," he muttered, and Harry was fairly sure he wasn't supposed to have heard. So he pretended not to.

"So, how are we going to pull off this prank?" James interjected.

"Good question," Sirius said, latching onto the new subject like a lifeline. Harry had the sense things had been about to descend into dangerous waters, so he was glad James had intervened.

"Well, there's the basic color-changing charm we could try to alter…or a potion might work, too," Remus mused, beginning to flip through his charms book. Harry did the same, and Peter, who had been listening intently, began furiously searching through his Potions text.

For a short while they tossed ideas around, some more ridiculous than others and some almost plausible. Suddenly Peter, who had been relatively quiet, suddenly exclaimed:

"I found it!"

"Where?"

"Lemme see!"

"Hang on!"

"Give him some space, guys," Harry said, rolling his eyes.

"Let's see it, Pete," Remus said.

"Here," Peter said, pointing to the recipe under the heading "Elixir of Emotion." "It's supposed to only detect emotion, but if we add a little hellebore juice…and some of those leaves—what were they called again? Right, tentacula leaves. And then combine it with the basic color-changing potion…I think it will work!"

"Can I see?" Harry asked.

"Sure," Peter replied. He passed over his Potions book and Harry skimmed the recipe, already making alterations in his mind.

"Pete's right," he mused. "Maybe up the potency a little…and double-check the proportions…then administer topically, and voila—everyone's mood revealed for all to see." Harry nodded in approval, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. He was getting excited, despite everything. He'd never pulled a real prank before. This was going to be fun.

"It won't even take that long," Remus said, pulling Harry out of his musings. "This one brews in a few hours, and the color-changing potion only takes twenty minutes. We can have it ready by Monday, easy."

"Perfect," Sirius said, a slightly dangerous glint in his eyes.

"We'll start tomorrow, then, yeah?" Harry asked, covering a sudden yawn. "I'm knackered."

"Me…me, too," Peter agreed, stifling a yawn of his own.

"All right. Tomorrow, then," James agreed. The others nodded and Harry immediately gathered his bag and headed to bed.