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butterflyslinkyTITLE: The Essay that Took Over Hogwarts
FANDOM: Harry Potter
CHARACTERS: Sirius Black, Remus Lupin, James Potter, Peter Pettigrew, Professor McGonagall, Professor Flitwick, Professor Slughorn, OC
RATING: PG-13
WARNINGS: None
SUMMARY: The boys have way too much homework.
AUTHOR COMMENTARY: I don't even know where this chapter came from. It was mostly a bridge, I think.
“Man,” Sirius said that night in detention. “I can’t believe she’s making us scrub every bathroom in the entire school with only a toothbrush!”
“No kidding,” James agreed. “Plus we have all those stupid essays to write.”
“What were they again?” Sirius asked.
“Four feet for Flitwick,” James answered. “On the uses of locking and unlocking charms. Capital letters can only be a quarter inch, one inch margins.”
“Five feet for McGonagall,” Peter groaned. “On Switching Spells and their counter-charms. Capital letters an eighth of an inch, half-inch margins.”
“Five and a half feet for Slughorn,” Remus sighed. “On the uses of wolfsbane in healing potions. Capital letters one-sixteenth of an inch, margins one-eighth inch.”
“Isn’t it convenient that they set handwriting limits?” Sirius asked sarcastically.
“We haven’t even gotten into what we have to do for Fenris,” James snarled. “He wants six feet on every dark spell we’ve ever encountered, what they did, and how they were countered, and he wants the handwriting so small he’ll need an Engorgement Charm to read it.”
“Six feet?” Remus spat. “That’s longer than you and Peter put together!”
“Not quite,” Sirius said. “But pretty close. Actually,” he said, putting down his toothbrush. “That should be pretty simple.”
“And it’s due Monday,” Peter whined.
“That’s difficult,” Sirius said. “I’m going have to remember all of them.”
“Good for you,” James growled. “Are we almost done?”
“Let’s see,” Remus said, looking at his watch. “We’ve been here for four hours, and we’re only half way done. What do you think?”
“She can’t expect us to finish in one night, can she?” Peter moaned.
“Why do you think we have two weeks of detention?” Sirius asked. “She’ll let us know when we can leave.”
Sure enough, half-an-hour later, Professor McGonagall came in and told the boys they could leave. They picked up their bags and staggered back to the Common Room to begin attacking the huge stack of homework.
“If it’s this bad now, I’ll hate to see what it’s like when we’re seventh years,” James muttered darkly as he wrote his Transfiguration essay. The boys had agreed that each one of them should write one essay and let the others... refer to it.
“Probably about the same with different topics and smaller handwriting,” Remus answered, searching his Charms textbook for anything helpful.
“This is bad enough!” Peter whined, scribbling away at the Potions assignment. “I’ve never encountered any dark spells at all!”
“That’s why Sirius is writing the Defense essay,” James told him.
“Yeah,” Sirius said. “Except for the fact that you won’t be able to read it, or use every spell on here. By the way, do you think it should be chronological or alphabetical?”
“Alphabetical will be simpler to reference,” Remus said, beginning to fall back into Smart Person. “But chronological is more realistic in terms of memorial essays. I would advise you to first compose a draft in the sequence you recall these incidents and organize them at another point in the future.”
“Speak normal English, would you?” Sirius snarled. “I’m reliving all the headaches I’ve ever gotten and you don’t need to add to it.”
“Sorry,” Remus said. “Write them down as you remember them and then put them in whatever order you decide on.”
“That’ll take a while.”
“Keep in mind we’ve got tomorrow and Sunday to do this,” James said. “We could go to bed...”
“We need at least one day to... look over each other’s essays,” Peter pointed out.
“Yes, but we’ve got...” James checked his watch. “Forty-eight hours until they’re due. We can have them finished tomorrow and Sunday to... check them.”
Remus looked at his half-finished Charms essay and agreed. Peter was already gathering his books and James was halfway up the stairs before any of them noticed that Sirius didn’t seem to have noticed that they were calling it a night. He was still scribbling furiously at his DADA essay, obviously trying to finish it before morning.
“Sirius?” James said. “You coming, mate?”
“I’ll sleep tomorrow,” Sirius answered, continuing to write. “I want to get all this down now. I’m remembering it best now... probably because I’m so miserable now...”
James looked concerned at this, and was about to ask more, when Remus muttered, “Leave it,” and hauled James upstairs.
Sirius bent over the paper, his life flashing in his mind, automatically slowing down when it came to his mother’s hexes and jinxes. The parchment was already so dark with minuscule writing that it appeared Sirius was merely putting random splotches on the page, but it was really just the account. He didn’t bother to measure it. He knew he’d have enough.
The next morning, James woke early after having an extremely disturbing dream. (It had something to do with chocolate ice cream, artichokes, dragon blood, maraschino cherries, and a woman who looked a lot like Lily Evans and shouted a lot.) He glanced around the room, and was startled to notice that Sirius’s bed was empty. Knowing that Sirius never got up before nine o’clock on Saturdays, he went downstairs to the Common Room to investigate.
Sirius had fallen asleep at the table where all the boys had been working last night, his head resting on his arms, his essay trailing on the ground, the handwriting so small and long that the paper appeared, at first glance, to be completely black (no pun intended.) James approached him cautiously, knowing that Sirius could be very irritable if woken suddenly. He glanced at the essay, and after a very close examination, was able to make out individual words and letters, describing spells and events so gruesome, it was hard to imagine all of them happening to one person in eleven years.
James gently prodded Sirius awake. “Wassamatter?” Sirius muttered sleepily.
“You fell asleep down here,” James said. “You must have been really intent on that essay.”
“Not intent, exactly,” Sirius yawned. “Just... remembering. And I’m not sure how far I’ve gotten.” He glanced at the bottom of the parchment. “Only up through when I was nine,” he said. “I’ve still got a lot of curses to write down.”
“How long is that?” James asked, nodding at the parchment, which extended the length of the table and was trailing on the ground.
Sirius pulled out a tape measure and checked. “About eight feet,” he answered. “It might be twelve by the time I’m finished.”
“Twelve feet on all the curses you’ve encountered?” James asked incredulously. “It can’t be that bad!”
“Can’t it?” Sirius murmured, taking up the quill and continuing to write.
“There can’t be that many curses in the world,” James declared.
“There are,” Sirius contradicted. “And more. And it’s not just a list. I’m having to describe the effects and countercharms as well.”
“Sirius, that’s a foot on every year you’ve been alive!” James exclaimed. “Surely you can’t have encountered a foot of curses every year! Especially with handwriting that size.”
“A foot for every year I’ve been alive with handwriting this size,” Sirius repeated. “If he hadn’t set handwriting limits, this essay would probably take over Hogwarts.”
James could only stare. He couldn’t believe that anyone, especially a mother, could be so evil as to subject her son to so many curses that it would take days to describe them on paper. “Maybe you should report these... incidents to McGonagall,” he suggested. “I mean, so they don’t continue.”
Sirius snorted. “I don’t need to report it to McGonagall. If Fenris doesn’t show this to every teacher in the staff room, I’ll be the Giant Squid’s brother-in-law.”
“He may not believe you,” James suggested. “He may think you just picked up a book of curses and copied them out.”
“Trust me,” Sirius said. “He’ll believe it.”
“Sirius, you have to tell someone...”
“I don’t need your help, James!” Sirius snapped. “I can handle it. And you’re right, he won’t believe it, but I don’t want him to! I need to deal with this on my own.”
James just shook his head, but he was inwardly coming up with ways to help his friend. Despite the fact that Sirius didn’t want help, it was obvious he needed it.
It was more essays that day, and another detention that night. It was the same as the night before, only it lasted longer.
Sunday came, and the boys were still intent on their essays, although now they were just... looking over each others. Remus hadn’t felt right about this plan, but he realized there was no other way for him to get all this work done.
No one had trouble getting their Charms, Transfiguration, or Potions homework done, but Sirius’s Defense essay was surely a force to be reckoned with. It took half-an-hour just for the other boys to figure out what it actually said, let alone get realistic spells they could have encountered out of it.
Finally, Peter threw down his quill. “I can’t take this anymore!” he screamed. “Why’d you have to include every spell in the entire freaking universe?”
“Because that was the assignment,” Sirius answered idly. He’d already finished all his homework and was now just helping the other boys read his essay.
“I’m giving up on this,” Remus said. “I can probably come up with enough on my own to finish the essay.”
“Fine,” Sirius said. “But you can refer back if you need another couple of feet.”
Remus rolled his eyes and continued writing.
Finally, they were done. “I hope he likes this,” James muttered. “Because it killed my hand to write that small.”
“Oh, poor baby,” Peter snarled. “Maybe you should just go...”
“Let’s get dinner,” Sirius interrupted. “I’m starving.”
Monday morning found the boys tired and sore from their detention, and scared to death about handing in their essays. They were sure that they were horrible enough for them to be held back another year without having to take exams.
Professors McGonagall, Flitwick, and Slughorn merely took the homework without comment. The boys would have to wait until they got the marks back to know if it had worked. Professor Fenris accepted James, Remus, and Peters’ essays at the end of DADA class without comment. When Sirius handed in his, however, Fenris looked at him in obvious disbelief.
“How many curses have you encountered, Black?” he asked.
“Hard to say,” Sirius said. “You can count them any time you like.”
“How long is this roll of parchment?”
“Let’s see...” Sirius looked at it. “About fourteen and a half feet.”
Fenris unrolled the parchment, which immediately rolled the length of the classroom, and examined the miniscule handwriting.
“You know what I think, Black?” he asked.
“I get full marks on this essay?” Sirius guessed sarcastically.
“I think you cheated and just copied spells out of a book.”
“I swear on my mother’s Stinging Jinx I did not.”
“We’ll see,” Fenris said. “Detention, my office, tonight...”
“That won’t work, Professor,” Sirius said. “I have detention with McGonagall every night for the next week and a half.”
“Then detention the night after those are over,” Fenris growled.
“If you say so,” Sirius said. “I promise you, every word of that essay is true.”
“You heard me,” Fenris said. “Don’t argue or it’ll be ten points from Gryffindor.”
Sirius shrugged and left. He didn’t care. He’d told his story, and that was all he needed to do, even if it was too fantastic for anyone to believe. He caught up with his friends and they walked down to dinner together.
“How long do you think it will take him to read those essays?” Remus asked.
“Probably around three months,” James answered. “Three more if he tries to read Sirius’s.”
“He won’t,” Sirius said. “You were right. He didn’t believe I’d encountered all those curses. He gave me detention for cheating as soon as my detention from McGonagall’s over. He’ll probably just chuck it in the fire without even enlarging the writing. And I’ll get a zero on that assignment.”
“Hopefully he believes ours,” Peter squeaked. “I really can’t afford a zero in his class.”
“Who can?” James asked. “He’s not exactly generous with his marks, is he?”
“No,” Remus agreed. “I don’t think anyone’s passing, and if they are, it’s not with a high grade.”
Sirius was still musing over the essay. He didn’t care too much about the grade, but to have it ignored completely...
“There’s one good thing at least,” James said.
“What’s that?” Sirius asked.
“Ravenclaw’s Quidditch team really sucks.”
“That’s right, we’re playing them soon,” Sirius exclaimed. “How’s the new program working out, Remus?”
“Pretty well,” Remus answered. “Wilkins can at least block one goal hoop now.” He had been attending all team practice as he’d been required to do.
“I noticed Anny has been happier,” James said.
“Yeah,” Remus said. “She’s thrilled with these notes.” He pulled a number of papers out of his bag and showed them to James.
James examined them closely, muttering to himself. After a few minutes of this, he looked up. “You’ve made a tactical error,” he said to Remus.
“Where?” Remus asked, looking at the parchment.
“Here.” James pointed. “If a Bludger uses thirty percent of its force in a collision, it would still cause the player in question to topple from the air, and if the player is more than thirty feet high, the force of gravity couple with the wind resistance of the falling player would cause less of an injury than if the Bludger had used twenty percent of its force in the same situation.”
“How would that work?” Remus asked. “The more force that is applied, the harder the fall.”
“Yes, but...”
Sirius and Peter looked at each other and decided to get back to the common room where people spoke normal English.
FANDOM: Harry Potter
CHARACTERS: Sirius Black, Remus Lupin, James Potter, Peter Pettigrew, Professor McGonagall, Professor Flitwick, Professor Slughorn, OC
RATING: PG-13
WARNINGS: None
SUMMARY: The boys have way too much homework.
AUTHOR COMMENTARY: I don't even know where this chapter came from. It was mostly a bridge, I think.
“Man,” Sirius said that night in detention. “I can’t believe she’s making us scrub every bathroom in the entire school with only a toothbrush!”
“No kidding,” James agreed. “Plus we have all those stupid essays to write.”
“What were they again?” Sirius asked.
“Four feet for Flitwick,” James answered. “On the uses of locking and unlocking charms. Capital letters can only be a quarter inch, one inch margins.”
“Five feet for McGonagall,” Peter groaned. “On Switching Spells and their counter-charms. Capital letters an eighth of an inch, half-inch margins.”
“Five and a half feet for Slughorn,” Remus sighed. “On the uses of wolfsbane in healing potions. Capital letters one-sixteenth of an inch, margins one-eighth inch.”
“Isn’t it convenient that they set handwriting limits?” Sirius asked sarcastically.
“We haven’t even gotten into what we have to do for Fenris,” James snarled. “He wants six feet on every dark spell we’ve ever encountered, what they did, and how they were countered, and he wants the handwriting so small he’ll need an Engorgement Charm to read it.”
“Six feet?” Remus spat. “That’s longer than you and Peter put together!”
“Not quite,” Sirius said. “But pretty close. Actually,” he said, putting down his toothbrush. “That should be pretty simple.”
“And it’s due Monday,” Peter whined.
“That’s difficult,” Sirius said. “I’m going have to remember all of them.”
“Good for you,” James growled. “Are we almost done?”
“Let’s see,” Remus said, looking at his watch. “We’ve been here for four hours, and we’re only half way done. What do you think?”
“She can’t expect us to finish in one night, can she?” Peter moaned.
“Why do you think we have two weeks of detention?” Sirius asked. “She’ll let us know when we can leave.”
Sure enough, half-an-hour later, Professor McGonagall came in and told the boys they could leave. They picked up their bags and staggered back to the Common Room to begin attacking the huge stack of homework.
“If it’s this bad now, I’ll hate to see what it’s like when we’re seventh years,” James muttered darkly as he wrote his Transfiguration essay. The boys had agreed that each one of them should write one essay and let the others... refer to it.
“Probably about the same with different topics and smaller handwriting,” Remus answered, searching his Charms textbook for anything helpful.
“This is bad enough!” Peter whined, scribbling away at the Potions assignment. “I’ve never encountered any dark spells at all!”
“That’s why Sirius is writing the Defense essay,” James told him.
“Yeah,” Sirius said. “Except for the fact that you won’t be able to read it, or use every spell on here. By the way, do you think it should be chronological or alphabetical?”
“Alphabetical will be simpler to reference,” Remus said, beginning to fall back into Smart Person. “But chronological is more realistic in terms of memorial essays. I would advise you to first compose a draft in the sequence you recall these incidents and organize them at another point in the future.”
“Speak normal English, would you?” Sirius snarled. “I’m reliving all the headaches I’ve ever gotten and you don’t need to add to it.”
“Sorry,” Remus said. “Write them down as you remember them and then put them in whatever order you decide on.”
“That’ll take a while.”
“Keep in mind we’ve got tomorrow and Sunday to do this,” James said. “We could go to bed...”
“We need at least one day to... look over each other’s essays,” Peter pointed out.
“Yes, but we’ve got...” James checked his watch. “Forty-eight hours until they’re due. We can have them finished tomorrow and Sunday to... check them.”
Remus looked at his half-finished Charms essay and agreed. Peter was already gathering his books and James was halfway up the stairs before any of them noticed that Sirius didn’t seem to have noticed that they were calling it a night. He was still scribbling furiously at his DADA essay, obviously trying to finish it before morning.
“Sirius?” James said. “You coming, mate?”
“I’ll sleep tomorrow,” Sirius answered, continuing to write. “I want to get all this down now. I’m remembering it best now... probably because I’m so miserable now...”
James looked concerned at this, and was about to ask more, when Remus muttered, “Leave it,” and hauled James upstairs.
Sirius bent over the paper, his life flashing in his mind, automatically slowing down when it came to his mother’s hexes and jinxes. The parchment was already so dark with minuscule writing that it appeared Sirius was merely putting random splotches on the page, but it was really just the account. He didn’t bother to measure it. He knew he’d have enough.
The next morning, James woke early after having an extremely disturbing dream. (It had something to do with chocolate ice cream, artichokes, dragon blood, maraschino cherries, and a woman who looked a lot like Lily Evans and shouted a lot.) He glanced around the room, and was startled to notice that Sirius’s bed was empty. Knowing that Sirius never got up before nine o’clock on Saturdays, he went downstairs to the Common Room to investigate.
Sirius had fallen asleep at the table where all the boys had been working last night, his head resting on his arms, his essay trailing on the ground, the handwriting so small and long that the paper appeared, at first glance, to be completely black (no pun intended.) James approached him cautiously, knowing that Sirius could be very irritable if woken suddenly. He glanced at the essay, and after a very close examination, was able to make out individual words and letters, describing spells and events so gruesome, it was hard to imagine all of them happening to one person in eleven years.
James gently prodded Sirius awake. “Wassamatter?” Sirius muttered sleepily.
“You fell asleep down here,” James said. “You must have been really intent on that essay.”
“Not intent, exactly,” Sirius yawned. “Just... remembering. And I’m not sure how far I’ve gotten.” He glanced at the bottom of the parchment. “Only up through when I was nine,” he said. “I’ve still got a lot of curses to write down.”
“How long is that?” James asked, nodding at the parchment, which extended the length of the table and was trailing on the ground.
Sirius pulled out a tape measure and checked. “About eight feet,” he answered. “It might be twelve by the time I’m finished.”
“Twelve feet on all the curses you’ve encountered?” James asked incredulously. “It can’t be that bad!”
“Can’t it?” Sirius murmured, taking up the quill and continuing to write.
“There can’t be that many curses in the world,” James declared.
“There are,” Sirius contradicted. “And more. And it’s not just a list. I’m having to describe the effects and countercharms as well.”
“Sirius, that’s a foot on every year you’ve been alive!” James exclaimed. “Surely you can’t have encountered a foot of curses every year! Especially with handwriting that size.”
“A foot for every year I’ve been alive with handwriting this size,” Sirius repeated. “If he hadn’t set handwriting limits, this essay would probably take over Hogwarts.”
James could only stare. He couldn’t believe that anyone, especially a mother, could be so evil as to subject her son to so many curses that it would take days to describe them on paper. “Maybe you should report these... incidents to McGonagall,” he suggested. “I mean, so they don’t continue.”
Sirius snorted. “I don’t need to report it to McGonagall. If Fenris doesn’t show this to every teacher in the staff room, I’ll be the Giant Squid’s brother-in-law.”
“He may not believe you,” James suggested. “He may think you just picked up a book of curses and copied them out.”
“Trust me,” Sirius said. “He’ll believe it.”
“Sirius, you have to tell someone...”
“I don’t need your help, James!” Sirius snapped. “I can handle it. And you’re right, he won’t believe it, but I don’t want him to! I need to deal with this on my own.”
James just shook his head, but he was inwardly coming up with ways to help his friend. Despite the fact that Sirius didn’t want help, it was obvious he needed it.
It was more essays that day, and another detention that night. It was the same as the night before, only it lasted longer.
Sunday came, and the boys were still intent on their essays, although now they were just... looking over each others. Remus hadn’t felt right about this plan, but he realized there was no other way for him to get all this work done.
No one had trouble getting their Charms, Transfiguration, or Potions homework done, but Sirius’s Defense essay was surely a force to be reckoned with. It took half-an-hour just for the other boys to figure out what it actually said, let alone get realistic spells they could have encountered out of it.
Finally, Peter threw down his quill. “I can’t take this anymore!” he screamed. “Why’d you have to include every spell in the entire freaking universe?”
“Because that was the assignment,” Sirius answered idly. He’d already finished all his homework and was now just helping the other boys read his essay.
“I’m giving up on this,” Remus said. “I can probably come up with enough on my own to finish the essay.”
“Fine,” Sirius said. “But you can refer back if you need another couple of feet.”
Remus rolled his eyes and continued writing.
Finally, they were done. “I hope he likes this,” James muttered. “Because it killed my hand to write that small.”
“Oh, poor baby,” Peter snarled. “Maybe you should just go...”
“Let’s get dinner,” Sirius interrupted. “I’m starving.”
Monday morning found the boys tired and sore from their detention, and scared to death about handing in their essays. They were sure that they were horrible enough for them to be held back another year without having to take exams.
Professors McGonagall, Flitwick, and Slughorn merely took the homework without comment. The boys would have to wait until they got the marks back to know if it had worked. Professor Fenris accepted James, Remus, and Peters’ essays at the end of DADA class without comment. When Sirius handed in his, however, Fenris looked at him in obvious disbelief.
“How many curses have you encountered, Black?” he asked.
“Hard to say,” Sirius said. “You can count them any time you like.”
“How long is this roll of parchment?”
“Let’s see...” Sirius looked at it. “About fourteen and a half feet.”
Fenris unrolled the parchment, which immediately rolled the length of the classroom, and examined the miniscule handwriting.
“You know what I think, Black?” he asked.
“I get full marks on this essay?” Sirius guessed sarcastically.
“I think you cheated and just copied spells out of a book.”
“I swear on my mother’s Stinging Jinx I did not.”
“We’ll see,” Fenris said. “Detention, my office, tonight...”
“That won’t work, Professor,” Sirius said. “I have detention with McGonagall every night for the next week and a half.”
“Then detention the night after those are over,” Fenris growled.
“If you say so,” Sirius said. “I promise you, every word of that essay is true.”
“You heard me,” Fenris said. “Don’t argue or it’ll be ten points from Gryffindor.”
Sirius shrugged and left. He didn’t care. He’d told his story, and that was all he needed to do, even if it was too fantastic for anyone to believe. He caught up with his friends and they walked down to dinner together.
“How long do you think it will take him to read those essays?” Remus asked.
“Probably around three months,” James answered. “Three more if he tries to read Sirius’s.”
“He won’t,” Sirius said. “You were right. He didn’t believe I’d encountered all those curses. He gave me detention for cheating as soon as my detention from McGonagall’s over. He’ll probably just chuck it in the fire without even enlarging the writing. And I’ll get a zero on that assignment.”
“Hopefully he believes ours,” Peter squeaked. “I really can’t afford a zero in his class.”
“Who can?” James asked. “He’s not exactly generous with his marks, is he?”
“No,” Remus agreed. “I don’t think anyone’s passing, and if they are, it’s not with a high grade.”
Sirius was still musing over the essay. He didn’t care too much about the grade, but to have it ignored completely...
“There’s one good thing at least,” James said.
“What’s that?” Sirius asked.
“Ravenclaw’s Quidditch team really sucks.”
“That’s right, we’re playing them soon,” Sirius exclaimed. “How’s the new program working out, Remus?”
“Pretty well,” Remus answered. “Wilkins can at least block one goal hoop now.” He had been attending all team practice as he’d been required to do.
“I noticed Anny has been happier,” James said.
“Yeah,” Remus said. “She’s thrilled with these notes.” He pulled a number of papers out of his bag and showed them to James.
James examined them closely, muttering to himself. After a few minutes of this, he looked up. “You’ve made a tactical error,” he said to Remus.
“Where?” Remus asked, looking at the parchment.
“Here.” James pointed. “If a Bludger uses thirty percent of its force in a collision, it would still cause the player in question to topple from the air, and if the player is more than thirty feet high, the force of gravity couple with the wind resistance of the falling player would cause less of an injury than if the Bludger had used twenty percent of its force in the same situation.”
“How would that work?” Remus asked. “The more force that is applied, the harder the fall.”
“Yes, but...”
Sirius and Peter looked at each other and decided to get back to the common room where people spoke normal English.
