ϟ part three - notes passed by marauders
[Transfiguration classroom, May 8, 1977]
PRONGS DO YOU SEE THIS
DO YOU UNDERSTAND WHAT THIS MEANS
THE CAT IS MCGONAGALL
YOU MUST BELIEVE ME NOW
I HAVE INCONTROVERTIBLE PROOF
padfoot come off it
mcgonagall could be anywhere
she could be sick
she could be on some errand for the school
the fact that dumbledore is teaching transfiguration means nothing
it is certainly not ‘incontrovertible proof’
The writing published on this blog is new, but I’ve been writing different Marauders fan fictions since I was 12.
ϟ part two - the notes of peter pettigrew
Muggle Studies II
May 7, 1977
- Electricity: the science, engineering, and technology of the presence and flow of electric charges
- (what are electric charges?)
- Muggles first realized the existence of electricity through interactions with electric fish
- Muggle Studies is dull. I’m still not positive why I took this class, though I suppose it’s because James, Sirius, and Remus aren’t in it. Remus has a free period now since he had Arithmancy this morning and Sirius and James have Care of Magical Creatures, but I’m here. They’re all so brilliant that it’s hard being in the same classes and I guess I just wanted a class where I didn’t have to deal with all that. James and Sirius are always passing notes and Remus is always taking notes and I can hardly choose whether to pass or take notes because on the one hand, I don’t want to miss anything and on the other hand, I don’t want to miss anything.
ϟ part one - the journal of remus lupin
May 6, 1977
It is a beautiful afternoon and a light breeze tumbles across the grounds, gusting now and then as if, like me, it is refusing to admit the onset of spring. A fair amount of students are congregating around the edges of the lake to enjoy the sun. Most still wear their cloaks; although longer, sunnier days have arrived, the warmth of spring has yet to make its grand appearance at Hogwarts. Some students have defiantly shed their cloaks and are running amok with arms spread out into the air like planes. Unsurprisingly, Sirius is one of these students. He insists on interrupting the otherwise peaceful grounds with shrill cries as he pretends to be a bird. I have tried explaining that I would like a quiet moment to write in my journal, but he rudely replied, “Moony, why do you slave over that little book when it’s such a brilliant day and you could be hawking like me?” Hawking, apparently, is the rather juvenile act of screeching, flapping one’s arms, and occasionally pecking violently at nearby unsuspecting journal writers. Suffice it to say, Sirius’ dog impression is much more accurate.