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466Chapter 6: Heightened Emotions

Updated 2/19/18

Heightened Emotions

Sunday Harry was rarely seen out of the company of the Marauders, as they happily called themselves as they set up the brewing equipment in an abandoned classroom somewhere on the fifth floor. Actually, Harry was rarely seen at all—the four pranksters had all but monopolized him the moment he'd said he'd help with their prank. They only emerged at mealtimes, and that only to grab some snacks from the kitchen before going right back to their preparations.

Sunday evening they were up late putting the finishing touches on everything, and Remus and James went out past curfew to set up the Great Hall. Harry asked how they were going to avoid being caught; James replied with a grin,

"It's a Marauders' secret. Maybe one day we'll show it to you."

"I'll hold you to that," Harry said, grinning and knowing full well said "secret" involved a charmed parchment map and an invisibility cloak.

The next morning Harry was rudely awoken by two bodies landing heavily on top of him and a sharp elbow digging into his ribs. Blindly Harry shoved away the person whose elbow it was.

"Ow!"

"That's what you get for elbowing me in the ribs," Harry groused, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. "You're lucky I didn't curse you; I've done it before."

"You wound me, Harrison," Sirius said dramatically from the floor. "And I mean that literally—that bloody hurt," he muttered. James laughed next to him and Harry turned to eye the second perpetrator. James's laughter abruptly cut off and he swallowed.

"Why did you choose this morning to be idiots?" Remus grumbled, rolling out of bed and rubbing a hand over his face. "Thanks to you guys, I barely got four hours of sleep."

"Sorry," James said, not looking sorry at all. He was still perched on the edge of Harry's bed, and he was starting to look impatient.

"I'm surprised you're not still sleeping," Peter cut in, covering a yawn. "You were up late, too."

"It's the pranking spirit, mate," James countered. "How can I be tired when there's a spectacular prank to pull?"

"I could fix that for you," Harry said mildly, twirling his wand. James gulped. Harry nodded in approval then put away his wand; James's sigh of relief was almost audible. Then, smirking, Harry shoved the other boy off his bed. He landed with a surprised yelp and looked up to meet grey-green eyes that glinted in an all-too-familiar manner. James felt an inkling of fear as Harry smirked down at him. Then the moment was broken when Sirius loudly claimed first dibs on the shower and slammed the door.

Remus finally got out of bed, covering a yawn with one hand and straightening his rumpled pajamas with the other. Peter rolled off his bed directly onto the floor, where he then proceeded to search under the bed for his clothes. Harry pulled his hangings shut—after making sure James had gone—and then changed into his uniform. He heard the bathroom door open and shut again. When Harry emerged from behind his bed curtains it was to find Sirius in only a towel, rifling through his wardrobe for his clothes. Harry blanched, then pretended not to see the scars on Sirius's back. He wondered, not for the first time, just how bad he had it at home.

About thirty minutes later all five boys were ready to go. So, they quickly made their way down to the Great Hall. Even Harry was excited about the prank they were about to pull. Tonks had noticed the glint in his eyes when he passed her in the common room and wisely decided not to ask.

Before heading into the Great Hall, they stopped in the kitchens to make sure their potion made it into everyone's drinks at all five tables—the four house tables, and the teacher's table. Harry had been reluctant about that part of the prank, knowing that pranking the professors was just asking for trouble, but James had assured him the risk of detention made it all the more interesting. And there would be no evidence to incriminate them in the prank, either. So, still hesitant, Harry had agreed.

By the time they got to the Great Hall, it was as full as it was going to get. They exchanged a look and a grin, then—at a silent signal from Peter—Remus and Harry withdrew their wands just enough so the tip emerged from their uniform sleeves and silently cast the activation charm.

With a bang and a sudden keening sound, their rigged fireworks exploded into sparks—or at least, it looked like sparks. Potion-tainted, colored water droplets rained down on the student body. Immediately upon making contact, the color change began. It started as a dot the same color as the water droplet. Then it spread, swirling like wet ink across the skin of each victim. There was a general exclamation of surprise, then the Great Hall filled with chatter and even some laughter as a multitude of colors blossomed across the students' skin and no further harm was done.

The teachers, on the other hand, were furious. McGonagall was sputtering in frustration, her skin staining red and orange. However, Slughorn seemed grudgingly impressed by the potion. Flitwick seemed intent on discovering if any charms were involved and was delighted by the prank. The headmaster affected a look of stern reprehension, but his eyes twinkled as he stood.

"Amusing and clever as this is, I do ask those responsible to step forward and accept responsibility, and request that they avoid any further activities of this nature in the future."

Nobody stepped forward, as expected, and though McGonagall tried to pin the blame on someone, there truly was no evidence. Remus and Harry had been sufficiently subtle in the activation charm, and there wasn't a single student unaffected by the potion.

"Blue is a good color on you," James said with a grin, glancing at Sirius. "Though the yellow and green ruin the effect."

"You're one to talk," Sirius shot back without venom. "You're all yellow."

Harry snickered. That wasn't entirely accurate. Portions of James's left hand, neck, and face were pink, and those patches darkened and expanded as Lily looked their way with an expression of grudging amusement on her purple and green face. Both colors were surprisingly complimentary to her auburn hair.

"You all look ridiculous," Remus said mildly. Happy yellow bloomed over his left ear, mixing with the blue and green already on his face. There was a somewhat sickly green bleeding into a swirl of black and red on the side of his neck, though, looking like an ugly bruise. With a faint stab of sympathy, Harry attributed it to the approaching full moon and the wolf lurking below the surface.

"Why, thank you," Harry replied. "Though I can't see how ridiculous I look." He did wonder, though, how much of his inner thoughts were revealed through the colors swirling across his skin that he couldn't see.

"You're mostly blue, but with some yellow and grey and black spots, too," Peter supplied helpfully.

"Why, thank you. I've always wanted to be blue with black, yellow, and grey polka dots," Harry said with a smile. "You happen to be the same, but more green than blue, and with some orange mixed in there. It clashes with your tie," he added.

"Harrison's right, mate," Sirius chimed in. "That orange…" he shook his head. "No good at all." Then he turned to Harry. "What do the colors mean, anyway?"

Harry smiled faintly. "I'll explain later. But the biggest ones are blue, which is relaxed; green, which is excited; pink, which is love or infatuation; yellow, which is happy; and red, which is anger. Different shades mean different things, but it will take too long to explain right now."

"Maybe we'll draw you up a table," Tonks chimed in from two seats down. Her colors were mostly green, with a mix of yellow and pink and a touch of grey. The pink increased as she looked Harry's way, but her eyes drifted to Remus, sitting beside him. Harry smirked and mouthed, "you fancy him." She glared playfully back, then she smiled in real pride and mouthed back, "well done."

A warm glow filled his stomach and Peter made a sound of surprise. Harry wondered what color he saw. Then the moment was gone when Tonks laughed, presumably at the ridiculous color combinations that stained his skin.

Classes that day were an interesting affair. Hardly anyone could concentrate, and those muggleborns who knew about mood rings explained the colors to their friends. By lunchtime, the colors Harry had explained to Sirius were common knowledge, in addition to black meaning pain and grey meaning depression. Harry wasn't sure how he felt about that and started to wonder if maybe this wasn't as fun an idea as he'd thought at first—especially once Potions came around.

They got a good luck at Snape, and with their new understanding of the colors Sirius and James made no attempt to lower their voices as they commented on all the petty reasons Snape's pallet was mostly dark, brooding greys and blues and blacks with a few streaks of fearful white when Avery was around.

Harry remained Snape's seat partner, despite one or two other students having dropped out of NEWT potions after the first few classes. And as class went on, he noticed Snape growing stiffer and more tense with each comment James or Sirius made. Remus and Peter mostly stayed out of it, but Peter did laugh at some of their jokes.

"No wonder he hasn't got friends. He's all broody," James said in a pitched whisper—ensuring half the class could hear.

"You'd have thought he'd have more emotions than that. I guess he really is just a miserable, lonely bastard," Sirius replied. Then he shrugged. "Then again, he matches Avery. Maybe he likes it that way," he added suggestively.

There was a splintering sound. Harry looked up in surprise from his dicing to see that Snape's wooden knife handle had snapped and his knuckles were white—even beneath the prank potion stain. Then he heard a low curse. The splintered handle had cut into Snape's hand. Harry gritted his teeth, trying to control his anger. Then he handed his seat partner his handkerchief to wrap around his bleeding hand. It was no surprise Snape refused to go to the hospital wing. Instead, he determinedly set about finishing his potion. Harry suppressed a sigh and turned back to his own work—they were working independently today.

When time ended, Harry brought his finished potion up to Slughorn for grading and started tidying up his area. Snape had taken a little longer and was just returning when, from the corner of his eye, Harry saw James casting a tripping jinx at the Slytherin's feet. He tumbled forward and landed hard on his elbow. Sirius deliberately trod on his hand—twice—as he turned in his own potion.

"Slipped on your own grease, did you?" Sirius said, looking down at the other boy sprawled on the ground with a nasty smirk on his face.

"Shut up, Black," Snape sneered. He knocked Harry's proffered hand aside and got to his feet. Embarrassed red blotches swirled into being on the Slytherin's exposed skin. Several students tittered in amusement. "I see you still think you're better than the rest of us because you're a Gryffindor, rather than a Slytherin where your family belongs."

"No one asked you, Snivellus," Sirius retorted, drawing his wand. By now the classroom was emptying and Slughorn was already gathering his materials. Therefore, he and the rest of the class were oblivious to the escalating argument. Everyone, that is, except for Lily and Alice, and, of course Remus, Peter, and Harry.

"Stop it, Black." Lily crossed her arms over her chest and stared Sirius down.

"I don't need your help," Snape sneered, but in an undertone. He grabbed his bag and started for the door.

"Lily-flower!" James shouldered past Remus and Peter and reached for Lily's bag. "Let me carr—"

"Back off, Potter," Lily snapped. She pulled back and glared at him. "And don't call me that."

"—jealous because you can't get the girl," Sirius sneered, obviously the end of a list of insults. By now they were all out in the corridor.

"Leave me out of this!" Lily exclaimed.

"Lily, let's go," Alice begged. "We don't need to get involved—"

"—no wonder, really," Sirius continued as if neither girl had spoken. "She's too good for a death eater wannabe like you."

Snape narrowed his eyes. "Perhaps that's a good thing, since I have no interest in mudbloods," he said. His lips twisted into a sneer that Harry was far too familiar with from Snape's older counterpart. It was the kind that made your blood run cold and your hand reach for your wand.

Lily gasped, both her hands going to cover her mouth. Snape opened his mouth, but Lily fled before he could say anything.

Alice glared at Snape. "Heartless bastard." Then she ran after Lily.

"You take that back." James's voice was colder than Harry had ever heard it before. His wand was raised and leveled at Snape, his hand completely steady.

"Or what?" Snape mocked. "Are you going to curse me?"

To Harry's surprise, James showed the barest hint of hesitation. Sirius, however, seemed to have found renewed determination.

"If you don't take it back this instant, I swear to Merlin I will," he said fiercely.

Harry opened his mouth to intervene, but Snape beat him to it.

"What? You can't stand the language you were raised on?" Snape smirked nastily. "No wonder your parents prefer Regulus."

Sirius's fingers tightened visibly around his wand. Both boys now had dark, angry red mixing with black swirling across their skin from the prank potion. "You take that back or so help me…"

"That's enough, Sirius," Harry cut in firmly. This had gone on long enough.

"Why? You heard what he said!" Sirius protested, but his eyes and his wand never left Snape. The other boy, Harry now noticed, also had his wand held subtly at his side, ready to raise and cast at a moment's notice.

"I did. And I don't like it, either," he replied, giving Snape a meaningful look. "But that doesn't mean you get to threaten him."

"You don't get it, Harrison." Sirius's voice was hard. But his wand hand faltered ever so slightly, and Snape noticed.

"What? Can't curse me without your friend's permission?" He sneered. "You're more of a coward than I thought."

Sirius's arm whipped up and a jet of light flew from the tip. Snape immediately retaliated. Harry reacted on instinct—his hand flew up, casting a wandless protego between the two of them. Sirius's dark red spell and the sickly purple of Snape's ricocheted off the shield, making Harry stumble a little with the combined power. Snape's spell took a sizeable chunk out of the castle wall; Sirius's bounced off the stone and hit Harry in the ribs. He staggered sideways with a gasp, his shield flickering out of existence. Remus caught him before he fell, but it was a near thing.

Sirius cursed furiously and cast again. Harry cast another shield, gritting his teeth. James shook off his surprise and grabbed Sirius's wand arm, forcing it down. Peter helped. Snape met Harry's eye briefly with an unreadable expression, then he turned and walked off with his head high and his shoulders back.

The moment Snape was out of sight, Sirius broke out of James's grip and rounded on Harry. "Why didn't you let me curse him? He deserved it!"

There were a hundred things Harry wanted to say. But what came out wasn't one of them. "Red really isn't your color, mate."

Remus snorted, observing with Harry the mottled red and black that currently swirled around on Sirius's skin. James's jaw dropped in disbelief. Peter gave a short laugh before quickly falling silent under Sirius's glare.

"Didn't you hear what he said?"

"Of course I heard," Harry retorted. He was getting irritated. "Do you think I'm deaf?"

"No, but—"

"Then stop asking me that and consider this—are you willing to get cursed, too?"

Sirius tried to stare Harry down, but he raised a meaningful eyebrow—unintentionally imitating Remus's famous expression—and after a moment Sirius looked away, grumbling.

Harry sighed in relief as Sirius's anger faded—then he gasped sharply and pitched sideways. Black spots swam before his eyes as his ribs all but exploded in agony. Remus caught him again and now all of them looked very concerned.

"Are you okay?"

"Sirius's hex rebounded and hit me in the ribs," he said, voice breathless and faint with pain.

Sirius's expression turned to one of horror. "Oh, Merlin. It was a bone-breaker hex!"

"Yeah, I gathered that," Harry retorted sardonically.

"Hospital wing?" James asked, after glaring briefly at Sirius.

"Probably a good idea," Remus replied. Harry sighed in resignation—then gasped as the pain redoubled. James shouldered his way under Harry's left arm while Remus took his right, and then the group of five trudged up to the infirmary.

"My goodness!" Madame Pomphrey exclaimed as the group entered the infirmary. Harry now hung, barely conscious, between James and Remus. Sirius shuffled along behind them, shamefaced and worried. Peter chewed on his lower lip as the matron cast a diagnostic spell.

"A spell backfired," James supplied as he and Remus lowered Harry onto an empty bed.

"Hmph. There's a reason we have a rule against magic in the corridors," Madame Pomphrey said sternly. "You were very lucky, Mr. Carter," she continued, now turning to Harry, "that it was only two ribs. It could have been your sternum or pelvis."

Harry winced at the thought. "Can you fix it?" he asked weakly.

"I certainly can, but you'll have to stay here and rest for an hour or so for the spell to take maximum effect."

Harry groaned faintly. Barely a month into first term and already in the hospital wing. He'd hoped this year would be different.

"At least you have a good excuse to skip the rest of class today," Sirius offered. "We still have DADA." Clearly, he was trying to make up for his mistake with humor. Harry didn't answer. He winced, then barely stifled a gasp as his ribs snapped back into place and started to mend themselves. Merlin, but that hurt like the dickens. And he knew from experience that he'd be sore for a good couple of days afterward.

When the sharp pain receded, he sighed and nodded toward the matron. "Thanks, Madame Pomphrey."

"You're welcome, dear," she replied kindly. Harry only just noticed how young the matron looked. She was young in his own time, but she looked barely old enough to be out of Hogwarts. She couldn't be older than twenty. And yet she was exactly the same, Harry realized with a grimace at the next words out of her mouth. "Here's a pain-reliever, and I expect you to take it if you need it—no 'toughing it out.' Your body needs to heal. And you won't be leaving that bed until dinnertime at least," she finished firmly.

"Yes, Madame," Harry replied meekly—he knew better than to argue with her.

"Very good," she said, nodding primly. "Now, shouldn't you boys be in class?"

"But it's already halfway over!" James protested. "There's no point in going now!"

The mediwitch looked about to say that didn't matter and they'd better get going, but one look at the Marauders' pleading faces and she gave in. "Very well. You may stay here—quietly—until your next class begins, then I want you out of my hospital!"

"Thanks, Madame Pomphrey!" James said brightly. She harrumphed, then disappeared into her office amid stifled chuckles from the other boys.

The moment she was gone, though, James, Remus, and Peter all turned an expectant look at Sirius. He'd been standing quietly, shuffling his feet, until now. Now, he looked up, only to look down again at the pointed looks his friends were all giving him.

"'M sorry," he mumbled.

"Sorry, what was that?" Harry asked mildly. "I didn't quite catch that."

Sirius cleared his throat uncomfortably. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean for my spell to hit you, Harrison."

"But you did mean for it to hit Severus," Harry said pointedly.

"Oh, it's Severus, now, is it?" Sirius snarled, all contriteness gone from his bearing.

Harry narrowed his eyes. "That's his name, isn't it?" Then he continued. "You're lucky the damage was reversible. What if you'd used something more damaging?"

"Then Snivellus would have gotten what he deserved," Sirius retorted. His fists clenched and his skin started swirling with red again—the prank was still in effect.

"Really? He deserves to be hurt so bad he nearly passes out in the corridor, and would have if not for his friends' support?" Harry felt his own anger rising, but he did his best to tamp it down. Instead, he forced himself to raise an eyebrow pointedly—unintentionally mirroring the look Remus often gave his friends.

Sirius opened his mouth, closed it, then looked away in frustration. "Maybe," he grumbled petulantly after a moment.

"Do you deserve the same?" Harry countered.

"Of course not!" Sirius protested instantly. "I'm innocent!"

Harry narrowed his eyes slightly. "That's what he thinks, too."

Sirius opened his mouth, then closed it again. Out of the corner of his eye, Harry saw James and Peter exchange an uncomfortable look.

Suddenly Remus cleared his throat. "It's nearly time for class," he stated when the others turned to look at him. Sirius grumbled and James and Peter sighed in resignation.

"Well, see you later, Harry," James said.

"See you," Peter echoed.

"Later, Harry," Remus said with a nod. Then the three of them started toward the exit.

"Later," Sirius grumbled, then he joined his friends.

"See ya," Harry replied with a wave and a wide smile. "Give me your notes later, Remus!" he called after them. Remus waved a hand in acknowledgement, then they were gone. The smile fell from Harry's face. He might have fought to leave with them, but he felt the need to set himself apart from them. Remind himself, maybe, that he didn't belong. No matter how much he longed to.

With a sigh, he lay down on the bed, figuring he might as well catch a nap or something since he was stuck in the hospital wing anyway. He winced at the soreness in his side. But it wasn't bad enough to warrant the pain potion Madame Pomphrey had prescribed. So, he ignored it, and ignored the sense of loneliness that gnawed at him.

Around dinnertime, Madame Pomphrey roused Harry from his nap and told him he was free to go. Harry nodded and thanked her, then gladly left the hospital wing. The soreness in his side was nearly gone and he was eager to rejoin the student body.

As he headed toward the Great Hall, he noticed that the prank was starting to wear off. Like an old muggle mood ring, the colors swirled lazily but didn't change. It reminded Harry of a magical photograph where the scene repeated in an endless loop. In some cases, the colors were fading, and as planned, the potion would completely wear off by breakfast tomorrow.

What Harry wasn't expecting (but should have been) was that, the moment he sat down at the Gryffindor table, he was bombarded by questions. Apparently word of the confrontation between Sirius and Snape had spread quickly, as well as how he'd intervened and spent the afternoon in the hospital wing. A lot of the younger years—who had taken a liking to Harry because he occasionally helped them with homework or told them shortcuts to get to their classes—wanted to know all the details. Even some of the older students wanted to know Harry's side of the story, because the story had been muddled already by the gossip mill.

Harry cleared up the confusion as much as possible, trying to deflect the awe and praise that inevitably followed; it made him uncomfortable, especially since it had been a lose-lose situation. Either he let them battle it out and have one or both of his friends (because he was beginning to see Snape—Severus—as a friend, after spending so many potions classes collaborating with him without any animosity on either part) get hurt, or step between them and take the hit himself—literally, this time.

When Harry got back to the common room, he was confronted unexpectedly by Lily. She seemed no worse off from the slur Severus had dropped, but she also seemed intent on figuring out exactly what had happened. Harry explained as simply as possible, growing more and more uncomfortable as Lily's eyes widened with each sentence.

"You—you what? You got between them? While spells were flying?"

"Well, actually, I cast a shield charm—"

"But you got hit!" Lily insisted.

"Well, yeah, by a bone-breaker hex, but—"

"That—that's—" Suddenly Lily threw her arms around him in a tight hug. "That's stupid and noble and so brave of you to stand up to your friends like that," she exclaimed.

"Er…"

"Oh!" Lily pulled away suddenly, flushing crimson. "I just…thanks, I guess, for…defending me and…standing up to them for me."

Harry rubbed his neck awkwardly. "It's nothing, really."

"Are you sure? Bone-breakers are nasty hexes, after all," Lily said, already recovered from her embarrassment. "Are you okay? Do you need anything? You're not sore, are you? I can get you a pain reliever potion—"

"I…I'm fine," Harry stammered, feeling more and more uncomfortable by the moment.

Suddenly someone chuckled. "Don't mind her," one of Lily's roommates—Marlene, if Harry remembered right—had appeared at his shoulder. "She fusses like a mum when someone gets hurt or sick or something. Even after they've proven they're fine."

"Er…" That just made Harry more uncomfortable. And he was acutely aware that, despite her only being sixteen, Lily Evans was his mum, fussing over him like that. And, having never truly had that experience before, he hadn't the slightest clue how to react.

"Harry! Thank goodness you're all right!" Tonks had appeared and she threw her arms around Harry like Lily had just moments before.

"Mmph!" Harry's protest was drowned in a curtain of blue-black hair.

Marlene and Lily laughed. "It's like he's never had someone to fuss over him before," Marlene said with a grin.

"Don't do anything stupid like that again, you hear me?" Tonks demanded, releasing Harry from the hug but leaving her hands on his shoulders. Harry blinked. The potion had mostly worn off by now, but his surrogate sister's hair was a clashing mix of orange and lime green—she was worried.

"I'm fine," Harry insisted. "Is this what all girls do?" he demanded, finally recovering from the surprise and awkwardness from before. "If so, I never want a girlfriend and I'm swearing off sisters as well."

All three girls laughed. "Can you really blame them, though?" Marlene asked. "I mean, I'm not really a worrier, but that was a right stupid thing to do."

"It was also the right thing to do," Harry retorted without venom. "Now if my dear sister would let go of me, I've got homework to catch up on," he said meaningfully.

"You're stuck with me, kid," Tonks replied, grinning. But she let go of his shoulders and allowed him to head up to his dorm.