James volunteered to look around alone the next night. When everyone else protested, he pointed out that the easiest way to avoid anyone seeing him was to stay under the Cloak and silence himself. He'd be perfectly all right; no one could possibly catch him. Since it was a full moon, anyway, Remus was out, and Sirius had planned to join him, even if Peter and James were occupied.
"Are you certain?" Peter said. It was obvious he didn't relish the idea of wandering the castle half the night, but the thought of James doing it alone was downright foolish. "The teachers have been combing the halls hourly. What if they catch you?"
James was already stuffing the cloak into his satchel. "It's not," he said, low, "the teachers I'm most concerned about."
However, nearly an hour later and three close-calls with one or more of the professors almost running into him, James had to conclude that there couldn't be anything going on that night. There were far too many people about. He rounded another corner and dropped his satchel in surprise - McGonagall was moving rapidly down the hallway towards him, accompanied by the Madam.
He ducked behind a statue and whispered, "Accio!" desperately. His bookbag flew into his arms just as they neared the spot where it had been lying.
"How is he?" McGonagall asked Madam Pomfrey as the two of them passed near James's hiding spot.
"The poor boy can barely speak at all, Minerva, and he's already been in the hospital wing for nearly twenty-four hours," she answered, her footsteps echoing slightly. "And the second time in a week? It's a wonder Severus Snape's parents haven't been up to the school."
James nearly let them pass, hidden under the Cloak, but when he heard Madam Pomfrey say Snape's name, he raced to catch up as quickly as he dared. He managed to keep about five feet behind them and still hear their conversation.
James heard McGonagall snort. "I'm surprised he hasn't spent all his energy trying to accuse his attacker."
Madam Pomfrey shook her head. "Oh, he mentioned a few names--"
"Who?"
Madam Pomfrey answered, "James Potter and Sirius Black." McGonagall inhaled sharply. "Lying through his teeth, my wager," she added, "but quite insistent. I wonder who it really was."
"That's to be expected," McGonagall said wearily. "I'll have to question them, I suppose."
James stopped, allowing them to drift off down the halls in opposite directions - extremely unnerved by what he'd heard.
~
"Where were you boys the night before last?" McGonagall asked. It might have been James's imagination, but she looked incredibly weary, and none too annoyed.
James replied, "we were in the Prefects' study, in that meeting, until maybe ten - and then we ended up going back to the Common Room. Remus wanted to study, and rest before the moon."
"And you two weren't studying?" she asked sternly, though it looked quite like she was trying not to smile.
Sirius answered, "They say the best way to study is to aid others."
"You were not," she said, "out and about the castle?" After a moment, she added, "no penalty would be awarded for that," and then she sighed, and James decided she looked much more than weary. "I think the days of giving you two detentions for mischief has passed."
"We stayed in," James answered truthfully. "The," and he winced a little bit, "the second years were up until nearly midnight. We sat up with them. I think they were afraid to go to bed."
"I see," McGonagall said softly. "Well, then," she added, "you've got people who can verify where you were. That's good," she said. "That's good." She looked at the little fireplace in her office; a fire blazed merrily, though it was June. James wondered if she was expecting company. "I am going to give you two an instruction now," McGonagall said, "and I want you all to follow it. Do you understand?"
Sirius and James nodded. The fire spat, and a spark landed on the carpet by McGonagall's foot.
"Good." She stared at them through her glasses. "Do not, please, do anything during the day." She folded her hands. "No matter what you might consider, no matter what you might think you might accomplish, please. It is imperative that during the day, the school remain quiet. We cannot have duels in Hogwarts." She glanced at the fire again. "Not now."
James blinked, mind racing. While Sirius nodded, James said quietly, "We understand, Professor, and we won't." He turned to leave, and then added, "Professor, what would it have meant if we hadn't stayed in?"
"You're dismissed," she told them and turned to a stack of parchments. James couldn't see what they were; he had a pretty good feeling that they weren't anything to do with schoolwork.
Outside, Sirius glanced at his watch. "Charms class in ten minutes," and then made an annoyed face. "I'm not going, there's no point."
"Feel like practising the Patronus charm for a little while?" James headed upstairs, instead of towards their class. "I can't believe we still can't get it."
"It just takes concentration," Sirius answered, absently sending a volley of sparks into the air. Two third year Hufflepuff students in front of them let out twin-screams and jumped around, faces terrified. "Sorry," he said to the two girls softly.
"We can try in the dorm room," James said.
Remus was already in the Tower, reading his revision for the thousandth time. No one else was about; all the other upper levels were guiding the lower school. "Come on, lad," James said. "Spot us for the Patronus charm."
"I can't believe you two aren't studying," he told them, strained. James patted him on the head. Remus was looking quite sick; the full moon was always a strain, and he really should still have been in hospital. James bet that he'd managed to convince the Madam to let him go in order to go over class notes.
Sirius went over to where he was sitting and gently pried the parchment from his fingers. "Come on, now," he said, "you're going to go for a bit of a rest, and then we'll get some lunch."
Remus didn't even resist as Sirius pulled him up, keeping an arm around his shoulders. James suspected very much that Sirius was holding him upright. "You know more class work than the two of us will ever forget," James told him.
They practised in the room, even though it was really too cramped for it. Sirius could already produce a wispy silvery mist, vaguely shaped like an animal - though which was still unclear - and James the same, but for some reason Remus couldn't get more than a faint silvery mist, like fog off the river. "I don't think you're concentrating hard enough," James told Remus, after his fifth try and nothing.
Remus dropped his arm, sagging. "Yes, well," he said matter-of-factly, "the thought of what I am keeps interfering with the spell."
Sirius reached over to put a hand on his shoulder and squeezed. James fiddled with his shoe.
~
Dumbledore was talking to a shorter man with a suspicious look and a wooden leg, when James spied him after his Transfiguration class. It must have been the famous Auror, Moody.
James leaned over to where Remus was already pulling out notes for another class; one of Sirius's lectures, not his own, with squiggles and cramped writing all over the parchment. Remus was holding the pieces upside down. "Do you know who that is?" James asked Remus quietly.
Remus held the pages up to his mouth, hid his lips from view of the world. "Of course I do," he murmured back. "Moody's famous just for his ability to walk away from threats that would kill other wizards ten times over."
"Have a bit of that ourselves," James dropped, unthinking. He bit his lip, glanced at Remus, glanced away. Since last year, such a statement was thoughtless in front of Remus, was thoughtless still. It was also, he considered a little bitterly, tempting fate.
Remus didn't seem angry; he was leaning against the banister casually, attempting to look nonchalant while trying to stay perfectly still, blend into the scenery. It appeared he wasn't going to answer James, but then after a long pause, he asked quietly, "Wonder what he's doing here."
"Maybe he's overseeing our defensive exams next week," James said weakly. The excuse would never fly; neither of them believed it. His words hung in the air, strangely loud even after he'd said them, a bald-faced lie that neither he nor Remus would own up to seeing through.
Moody turned to face them, training his face on first James, then Remus, and back again, to stare, not blinking, at James. "I think he wants something from you, old chap," Remus murmured.
Usually when one or both of them uttered something like that, it was in a manner to suggest vague threat, dire consequences, possibly a detention involving silver polish. This time, despite the dire threat, silver polish was the furthest thing from James's mind; he stared back at the Auror, not flinching no matter how much he wanted to.
~
"You," and James felt a hand gripping his forearm. "Knew your father, y'know."
James felt a pang in his belly and the man's painful grip. Moody. "You did?"
"Good man," he said, and then, "Dumbledore's told me a bit about
you." He let go, suddenly, and spun on his heel. James watched him stomp
away, sank down onto a bench, and didn't feel the stone underneath him. A half
hour later, Lily had to remind him they actually had an exam.