Chapter 16: Funny Valentine
Harry rubbed at the bruises on his arms, annoyed that he had not managed to escape Sirius's grip. That boy was a lot stronger than he looked, and he looked pretty damn strong. He hoped Hermione knew the spell to heal them. As he waited for dawn and an hour that might have his fake sister rising from her own bed, he had time to think. Actually, he had more than enough time to think during the night while he avoided sleeping, but it was somehow easier to think in the early morning. The time limit placed on him as the others shifted in half-sleep and grew more restless as their dreams ended somehow made his mind work quicker.
The others had been behaving oddly. Admittedly, Harry had not known these younger versions of his friends and family long enough to pinpoint precisely what had changed, but he did know when. Over the weekend they had started watching him eat dinner. More than just watching to make sure he actually ate, which they had done since day one, they seemed to be watching what specific things he ate. What they planned to do with his preference for roast chicken and potatoes was rather worrying. Harry feared a prank was coming his way.
James, thankfully, was not eyeing him with angry suspicion any more, not now that Harry was providing him with details of his conversations with Lily and since he had turned so violently green when accused of liking her.
Still, he worried. Especially with the way Sirius was watching him. The boy's eyes seemed to find Harry everywhere; even when he was clear across the raucous and crowded common room, Harry could feel the familiar grey eyes on him. He was quite adept at knowing when he was being watched after so many years of being on Voldemort's hit list, and he was not at all sure what his young Godfather's persistent stares might mean.
The Gryffindor in question grumbled and cursed. "What the hell time is it?"
"Time for you to quit your whinging!" James told him. "I'm trying to sleep."
"Sirius Black does not whinge," the boy insisted in a regal tone that had Harry burying his face in his pillow to keep from laughing. "Sirius Black makes plain his understandable vexation." Returning his voice to normal, he added, "Besides, I'm told Evans has started heading to breakfast early this year."
Harry peered out from behind his curtain, eager to watch the young man's reaction to such information. He could hear the enthusiastic rustle of bed sheets being kicked away before James jumped off his bed, his hazel eyes shining despite still being slightly crusty from sleep.
"Hurry it up, Marauders! I've got a girl to win!" he ordered and raced from the dormitory to the washroom, leaving the others to rise at a slightly more subdued pace.
"So, exactly what time is it?" Sirius asked again.
"Time to get up, apparently," Remus said and pushed himself from the warmth of his bed. "Damn, Harry, what happened to you?"
"Sirius," he replied flatly.
"What'd I do now?" Sirius asked and stumbled out of bed, stopping abruptly at the sight of Harry without his shirt on. He was skinnier than Sirius had thought he would be, every rib and vertebrae jutted sharply, blue veins showed clearly through his white skin. His eyes raked over the boy, taking in the scars; it looked like someone had ripped into the boy's arm and burned his side with a fiery torch. Harry was far from clumsy, so it was unlikely for him to have fallen into a sconce. He said he played Quidditch, but Sirius had never seen scars like that result from even the roughest game, unless South African rules were more lenient toward violence.
"Your fault," Harry said and pointed to the bruises Sirius hadn't even noticed. "I hope you're thoroughly ashamed of yourself."
Sirius nodded dumbly. If he had known what shape the boy was in, he would have handled him more gently.
James bustled back in. "What are we all standing around for? There's a delightfully stubborn lass waiting for me downstairs," he said and started throwing their robes at them. "Granger, put a shirt on before Padfoot wets himself."
The others chuckled, but Sirius flushed and turned away. Their laughter was the motivation he needed to finally tear his eyes from the strange burn scars on Harry's side. Magic should have healed those instantly. Very few things could scar like that in the magical world; Fiendfyre and dragon's fire were the only things that came to mind. Another curiosity added to the Operation Not-Prongs list.
Remus, oblivious to Sirius's growing list, looked at the scars and was more than willing to question the boy. "That's a nasty one," he pointed the scar on Harry's arm. "What did that, then?"
Harry looked at the scar as if he had only just remembered it. The jagged wound that Wormtail had left when he took Harry's blood to complete the ritual that resurrected Voldemort and made the evil wizard immune to the magic that had defended the boy for the thirteen years since his mother had died. The scar was neither large nor deep, but the man's shaking hand had left a rough mark despite how sharp the knife had been.
"Difficult to explain," he said slowly. "I kind of got cut."
"Mighty ugly," Remus commented, his eyebrow rising. "Looks rather like you had a pound of flesh removed. Make any deals with the devil lately?"
Harry chuckled darkly to himself. "No, but that's never stopped him from trying."
"This is fascinating, really," James cut in, "but we've got places to be."
"Don't get your knickers in a bunch," Sirius grumbled, still embarrassed at having James point out that he had been staring. He was usually so much more discreet when he was studying someone, unless he was being openly flirtatious and wanted the object of his scrutiny to know he was looking at them. Harry's scars had simply caught him by surprise.
He threw his clothes on with far less care than he normally would, his mind too preoccupied trying to figure out where on his list of Operation Not-Prongs the scars should be placed – before the intentionally vagueness and inexplicable knowledge of Peter's nickname or after the rabbit heartbeat and nightmares.
"You're looking rather dashing today," Remus commented when Sirius turned around. He glanced down at himself. He had forgotten his jumper, and his shirt was mostly unbuttoned, his Gryffindor tie hung loosely from either side of his collar and his hair was messy from sleep. Overall he had the look of a young man who had not slept in his own bed the previous night. Sirius shrugged and decided to go with it.
"They'll be all over you by lunch," Remus warned.
"I can take it," Sirius smirked. "I'm a big boy."
"Now you're just bragging."
Sirius patted his arm and winked. "I've seen you naked, Moony. You've nothing to be ashamed of."
"Whenever you're done," James sighed. He turned to Harry, who was trying not to laugh yet was also slightly disturbed at how flirtatious the exchange between his Godfather and favourite teacher had seemed. "Ignore them; they just like to freak people out."
"You used to like to as well before you fell in love with Evans," Sirius commented. He wrapped his arm around Harry's shoulder and started walking him out of the dorm to the Great Hall. "Back in third year, before Evans caught his eye, Prongs there used to love playing with people. He sent charmed Valentines to every single fourth year Ravenclaw telling them that he was madly in love with them. He actually got a few dates out of that one."
"What was the point of that?" Harry wondered.
Sirius looked at him sideways. "You're seriously asking the point of a prank? It's a prank! There is no point aside from fun and fucking with people."
"So…"
"So," his grey eyes flashed with delight, "we waited to see which Ravenclaw blokes started freaking out when James came into the Great Hall, and those were the ones we went after. Wormy, Moony and I would steer each bloke one at a time to where Prongs was hiding, and he would try to make out with them. How many Ravenclaws did you make throw up?"
"Three," James said with poorly disguised pride. "And one shat himself."
"One actually kissed him back," Remus added.
Harry stared in confusion and no small amount of shock that his father had done that. He knew his father was more than a little mean-spirited in his youth, but he had never imagined that any of his pranks might play on the sexuality of the other students. It would be hard enough to know you're different at such a young age, but to have someone prank you because of it…
"I don't think Mr Granger approves," Peter said in a very good imitation of a prefect.
"Have we offended your delicate sensibilities, Mr Granger?" Sirius asked, an edge of worry tarnishing his humorous tone.
"I don't know," Harry admitted. "I don't see the harm in turning someone blue or sneaking a hair-growth potion into their breakfast, but playing with someone like that… that's not funny. That's just mean."
There was a short minute of uncomfortable silence as the Marauders looked everywhere but at Harry while they pulled at their collars and became fascinated with the texture of the stones on the floor.
James cleared his throat. "You know, in my defence, I did let that one bloke down easy."
"By telling him it was a joke?" Harry replied, his voice steely.
"No!" James said and glared at him. "I told him the Valentine hadn't been from me; that I had sent it to see if he'd go out with a friend." Harry held his eye, waiting for more information. "Then Sirius stepped in and saved me."
"Huh?" Harry looked to Sirius, who still had an arm wrapped around his shoulder.
"I said the Valentine was from me," he grinned. "We went out for about a month."
"Oh… I hadn't realised you were… you know," Harry tried to force his voice flat and to keep his eyes from growing too wide.
'It isn't weird; it's only strange that he didn't tell you before he died,' he thought.
"I'm not," Sirius said quickly. He dropped his arm and shoved his hands into his pockets, not looking at Harry again until they were in the Great Hall and the topic had moved on to something that didn't have the new bloke making them feel like heartless and infantile jackasses.
Realising how awkward things had become between the five of them, Harry thought up a topic that would have all of them talking normally again. "When are Quidditch trials?"
"Saturday," James said, eyes bright and relief evident in his posture. "Pretty decent number of people trying out. Though, Falligant is having another go," he shook his head in dismay. He dared to look at Harry's face when he got no response from the boy. Seeing the boy's lack of understanding, he explained, "Tyler Falligant tries out every year. He's never managed to catch or block the Quaffle, not once. He's afraid of Bludgers and has lost more Snitches than he's found. I wish he'd just give up."
"Even Wormtail gave up," Sirius commented. "No offense, Wormy, but your attempt at playing Keeper did not go well."
Peter shrugged indifferently but Harry noted the mild blush of embarrassment on his round cheeks. If the boy had not betrayed his parents to their deaths, he might have felt sorry for him.
"At least Moony has the sense to stay on the side-lines," James said and slapped his friend on the back. Remus winced and shot his friend a flinty glare. "Uh… sorry… So, Harry," he hurried to change the subject. "You trying out?"
Harry shook his head. "I'd rather not."
"Ah-ah," Sirius leaned in and grinned. "I recall you agreeing to try out as Seeker if no one decent could be found. You'll be there, Harry James Granger, if I have to carry you to the pitch myself." He purposely poked at the bruise he had left on Harry's arm. "And we both know I'm strong enough to do it."
"He's right," James said with a winning smile. "You did agree to that. And a gentleman always keeps to his agreements."
Harry snorted. "I don't know if that rule applies to you lot."
"Oi! Cheeky bugger!" James threw half a slice of bacon across the table at him. "You wait till I'm your Captain, then you'll have to show me some respect."
"Respect is earned," Remus muttered darkly. His hard eyes fixed onto his plate, still heaped with eggs and toast. The other three Marauders looked to one another sharply before their eyes turned worryingly to Harry.
"Remus, is it your stomach sickness?" Harry asked, remembering the rubbish lie he had been told. "Are you feeling alright?"
"Leave me alone!" Remus spat and pushed away from the table.
Sirius leapt up quickly. "I'll take him to see Madam Pomfrey. You know that stomach sickness can be bad sometimes." He climbed across the table and gripped Remus tightly by the arm, forcing him through the halls to the infirmary. James turned his enormous eyes to Harry, terrified the boy could see straight through the obvious lie.
"I had stomach sickness once," Harry said quietly. "It was awful."
Peter let out a hysterical giggle and James couldn't hold back the relieved laugh. "Yeah, it's pretty bad for Moony. He seems to catch it every month."
Harry nodded sympathetically. All three ducked their heads to hide their knowing smiles and fought to keep from laughing.