literature

Marauders: 'Spoons'

Deviation Actions

clouded-logic's avatar
Published:
506 Views

Literature Text

“Prongs, would you quit it already? You’re poking me – OW –in the eye.”

“Well, I can’t help it, can I? I’m just trying to get under the cloak, same as you,’ James complains, still groping the air uselessly.

“We’re here!” I whip the Cloak off my head and narrowly evade James’ palm in my face.

“It’s hopeless trying to hide us all under the Invisibility Cloak any more,” says Remus, appearing next to me. “We’re all fat, ugly lumps now, you can see our feet poking out from underneath.”

“Speak for yourself, Moony. ‘Fat’, ‘ugly’ and ‘lump’ are the last words that spring to one’s mind at the thought of me.” I run a hand through my hair. It falls flawlessly back into place. I give James’ resentful expression a toothy grin.

“How are we supposed to walk around without drawing attention to ourselves when we have this thing?” asks Peter, also popping out of thin air carrying a glowing green jar a good arm’s length away from himself.

“Careful with that!” I warn, snatching our precious jar off him and cradling it in my arms. “A little TLC is all our baby needs. I’m not having you abusing it like it’s a Blast-Ended Skrewt covered in Dungbombs.”

“It might smell better if it were covered in Dungbombs.”

I am horrified.

“Peter Pettigrew, you disgust me. Henrietta smells gorgeous.” I waft the jar of fluorescent green paste under Pete’s nose.

He gags and splutters. “Urgh! Sirius, that reeks!”

“Henrietta reeks,” corrects James (rightly so, might I add).

“Fine, whatever. Henrietta smells like the back end of a hippogriff. And there’s something floating in her.”

James grins sheepishly. “That may have been my fault. I was trying to stir her but Henrietta wasn’t in a very cooperative mood.”

“So I wouldn’t recommend dangling any stray fingers anywhere near her hole.” I look meaningfully at the wooden spoon suspended in the goo.

Peter looks faintly repulsed. “Sirius, that sounds so wrong.”

I grin at him. “You know you love her really, Pete. Besides, you’d better start getting used to her. She is a vital ingredient in our most excellent plan.”

“Not that this ‘most excellent’ plan is ever going to come to fruition at the rate we’re going,” mutters Remus. “I’m bored. Going to bed.”

I roll my eyes. “Some people are so unappreciative of witty banter,” I say, hauling him back and giving him a shove through the portrait hole. “Oh well, if you’re that impatient to wreak havoc, I suppose we can forgive you.”




“Just whistle while you work,” I whistle happily to myself, slapping a globule of goo on the wall.

“Padfoot. Shut up.”

“Doo do doo-do doo-do doo—”

“You’re going to wake Snape,” Peter hisses, glancing fearfully over at Snape’s earmuffed head.

“Heigh ho, heigh ho—”

“Sirius.” Remus looks at me seriously. “If you don’t shut up now, I’m going to shove Henrietta down your throat and make you shut up for good.”

Though I consider the prospect of Remus causing any degree of harm to anybody a physical impossibility, I think better of the singing. Save my angelic voice for people who appreciate it, and all that.

“Er… maybe I should’ve brought this up a bit sooner, but how do we plan on getting out of here if Snape and co are going to be stuck?” asks Peter.

“Ah, good question, my dear Peter,” says James. “Luckily, we too anticipated this problem, which is why we have… these!”

James pulls out four pairs of silver boots from a surprisingly small carrier bag and holds them up in triumph.

Remus raises an eyebrow. “They look a bit… camp.”

“Camp?” I ask incredulously. “CAMP? These are the most effective Anti-Teflon boots on the market. See those suction pads? Best in the business. You and your prejudices, Moony, shame on you.”

“Oy vey.” Remus shakes his head and returns to gooifying Snape’s bedside table.

“Might as well get these on now, lads,” says James, pulling on a boot. “Make as quick and dignified a getaway as possible, that’s my philosophy.”

“Which it won’t,” I add confidently. I check that the earmuffs are still securely fastened around the heads of our dear Slytherin counterparts though. Just in case.




“If I can just get this last bit out…”

We watch James shaking the jar in vain, trying to tip the last slivers of goo out. Henrietta doesn’t budge.

“Henrietta, come on!”

James is nearly crying with the effort, poor bloke. James and stubborn females. Sounds familiar.

“Come on, Jimmy.” I lay a comforting hand on his shoulder. “It’s over. You did your best. There’s nothing more we can do.”

“Bugger off,” James scowls, chucking the jar at me.

“Sounds like a plan,” I reply with a grin. “Buggering off it is!”

We heave our feet off now glistening floor, struggling against the suction pads.

“Maybe ‘best in the business suction pads’ aren’t such a great idea after all, Padfoot,” suggests Remus. Smug git.

After what feels like an aeon, we reach the door to freedom.

“Crap,” curses James. “Whose bright idea was it to grease the door handle?”

Peter looks away. I half expect him to start whistling.

James sighs and tugs off his left boot. Carefully attaching one of the suction pads to the handle, he pulls open the door.

“Genius, Prongster,” I commend as James hops through onto non-Henriettafied territory, the other two hopping behind.

“Nighty night, Snivellus,” I say softly, closing the door. “Have fun, Henrietta.”
I had fun writing this. :D Marauders, a suspicious glowing green unidentified substance called Henrietta, a spoon, and camp anti-gravity boots. Need I say more?

This is part of a fic written by my cousin and myself. The second half is here, and the full fic can be found over here at fanfiction.net. I hope you like it!
© 2008 - 2024 clouded-logic
Comments4
Join the community to add your comment. Already a deviant? Log In
jynx67's avatar
Brilliant, really.