The Marauders and the Fetch of Hogwarts

The train at Platform 9 3/4 looked as it had the year before, red and slightly sooty, waiting impatiently for the students to finish boarding so it could begin puffing its way northward to Hogsmeadee. Phineas had admonished his two young charges regarding appropriate behavior during the school term, warning them from the sort of mischief they'd engaged in the prior year, but Remus knew his father wasn't convinced it was worth the effort. The ruffling of his and Sirius' hair in a typical fatherly gesture was a dead giveaway for that.

Sirius surprised Phineas by sticking his hand out manfully and saying clearly within earshot of his own father, "Thank you, Mr. Lupin, for allowing me time in your home. It was nice to know that some people know how to properly care and love their children. I don't despair now, should I have children. I have a proper role model."

There was a mute silence a moment and then Phineas shook Sirius' hand. "You are most welcome at our home anytime, Sirius," the elder Lupin chuckled, "but please," he whispered, drawing Sirius closer, "less spectacle before your own parents will help secure more visits, you know." With a polite nod to Sirius' parents and a few other witches and wizards around them, Phineas Lupin turned neatly on his heel and sauntered away.

Sirius turned to grin at Remus. "Your father," he stated emphatically, "is too cool for words."

Remus could only grin back in response. He couldn't argue with the comment, because he thought it true himself. Remus handed over his owl, Seneca, to the porter while Sirius scanned the crowd for their two friends.

The two boys settled in a compartment, keeping the door to the hall open to keep ears and eyes peeled for James and Peter. Remus heard Peter first and was lunging out the door into the hall before the trouble could escalate further. James was shoving his way down the corridor, his hazel eyes dark with anger. Sirius noted Remus' hurried movements and was hot on his friend's heels. The three met four compartments from where Remus and Sirius had camped and where Peter Pettigrew was currently cornered by Severus Snape and two Slytherin cronies.

Three wands were pointed directly at Snape's head before another sneer could pass the lips of the lanky, black-haired, Slytherin student. "See?" Snape drawled. "Always out to defend the weak, always ready to jump into the fray when they know they'll get their butts collectively kicked, that would be a Gryffindor."

"The better part of valor and all that," rasped James angrily, throwing a concerned look at Peter, expecting to find the other boy cowering. Instead Peter was shaking with suppressed rage.

Walden MacNair, standing right next to Snape, narrowed his watery blue eyes. "You'd better recheck your quote on that, Potter, because discretion is the better part of valor, not stupidity."

"And what's a pureblood Slytherin doing reading Muggle literature, MacNair?" snapped Remus, pointing his wand at MacNair instead.

"Know thy enemy and know thyself and you will win a hundred battles," answered MacNair with a smirk.

"Sun Tzu Wu," replied Remus. "I can do that too. 'Never interrupt the enemy when he's making a mistake.'"

MacNair gave an appreciative laugh. "Napoleon Bonaparte. How about this one then, Lupin? 'In war there is no substitute for victory.'"

The others, both Slytherin and Gryffindor, watched the exchange warily. Now they looked at Remus, whose eyes narrowed to almost a honey-brown color. "I'd answer General Douglas MacArthur with this quote: 'Real and lasting victories are those of peace, and not of war.'"

Snape gave a snort of something akin to laughter, elbowed MacNair and jerked him down the corridor. "Come on, let's leave the Gryffindorks to their Muggleness." The three Slytherins departed, turning their backs emphatically on the four Gryffindors as if they were only bothersome gnats.

"The nerve!" raged James.

"Last time I walk down the corridor," grumbled Peter.

Sirius was only staring at Remus in awe. Remus ignored his expression. "Papa bought us chocolate frogs. Wanna share? I'm looking for a Fulbert the Fearful still." Sirius' expression turned from awestruck to slightly abashed.

The four adjourned to their compartment and was already half way through the pile of chocolate frog wrappers by the time the train started moving. "Hey, Remus?" asked James casually. Remus looked up at him, mouth full of chocolate. "Who was the last quote from?"

"Ralph Waldo Emerson," Sirius answered for him.

James and Peter frowned in confusion. "Who's he?" asked Peter curiously.

"A nineteenth century American author and essayist. He was brilliant, for a Muggle minister anyway. How do you know Emerson, Remus?" Sirius had the awed look on his face again.

Remus swallowed his mouthful of chocolate and fidgeted. "Mum had some of his works, mostly the essays and a few copies of his speeches. When you're an only child, you get used to finding things to do on your own. Books are plentiful around my house, you saw, Sirius."

Sirius nodded thoughtfully. "True, but I don't remember seeing any Emerson in the library or the study."

Remus made a face. Caught in a lie. "Papa must have gotten rid of them while I was at school after she..." His voice trailed off. He couldn't finish the lie. Remus quickly deflected the attention from himself with a question of his own. "How do you know Emerson, Sirius?" Sirius began to squirm uncomfortably, a surprising reaction. Remus would have figured Sirius smuggled Muggle literature into his house just to irritate his parents. They were all uncomfortable for a few moments waiting on Sirius' answer until Peter looked down at his wizard card.

"Hey!" he exclaimed, handing Remus the card. "Fulbert the Fearful!"

Sirius' answer was forgotten.