The Marauders: Year One | #Wattys2016

The Myth and The Truth

The Myth and the Truth

"Here yeh are," Hagrid said, pushing open the compartment door for Sirius. He could barely fit shoulders across on the Hogwarts Express and a long line of students were bottlenecked behind him, unable to get by the half-giant's width. He certainly wasn't about to squeeze into the compartment himself. He was barely able to get one of his dust-bin lid sized hands through to plop down Sirius's bag. "Ev'ry thin' looks a'right then for yeh?" he asked.

Sirius squeezed into the compartment. "Yes, thank you Hagrid," he said. "You really didn't have to come onto the train," he added, seeing a Hufflepuff girl try to squeeze past Hagrid from behind, glaring around the wide moleskin-jacket-encased gamekeeper at Sirius, as though this were his fault, as though he'd asked for the escort.

"Dumbledore tol' me ter see yeh off, and help yeh with yer luggage an' all. I had ter be sure you was off proper-like so as ter tell the headmaster I done my duty," Hagrid said. He reached in his pocket and took out a little bag, "Here yeh are, some rock cakes for the ride. Hold yeh over 'til the sweets trolley, at least. Made 'em myself," he added, grinning, as Sirius unrolled the top of the little sack and took a sniff of the cakes. They smelled of molasses and dates.

"Thanks Hagrid,' Sirius said.

"Happy Christmas, Sirius," said Hagrid, and he waved and shuffled off down the train, a flood of students pouring into the compartments behind him.

Sirius waved, and pulled his compartment door shut with his good hand, trying to block out some of the glares he was getting. He sat down on one of the benches in the compartment, pulling one of the rock cakes out of the bag. Despite having smelled quite delicious, they were harder than real rocks, he realized, and he tapped it against the wooden wall and half expected it to leave a dent. "Blimey," he muttered, "Those would shatter my teeth, they would!" He dropped the hard little cake back into the sack and rolled the top up tight. It was nice of Hagrid to bring them, anyway, even if he didn't get to eat them, he thought.

James and Peter arrived some time later, when the train was nearly full. Sirius had had to turn away several hopeful first years to keep the compartment to themselves. He felt awful telling Frank Longbottom that all the seats were taken - especially when Frank sighed and said he'd have to sit in a compartment with a bunch of first year girls all the way back to London - but he really needed to be able to talk to James and Peter alone about what had happened to his hand. And it was a good thing, too, because James burst into the compartment already firing questions. "Alright," he said before he'd even put down his bag, "What happened to your hand?"

"The truth, or the myth?" he asked, grinning.

"The myth?" Peter asked, confused.

"Well the myth is that I was practicing transfiguration in the corridor because you lot were snoring too loud and turned a tea cup into a rat and my tea cup ran off and I had to fight Mrs. Norris for it. I've got detention for being out of the common room after dark," Sirius said, then added, rather proudly, "And Filch got reprimanded, told to control his cat and teach it better manners. It was brilliant."

James smirked, "Poor Mrs. Norris."

"Serves her right for being bloody awful," Sirius said, not feeling a bit of remorse for the cat.

"So what really happened that you had to make up a story about it?" James asked, "Did you go down the wrong pit in the Trophy Room?" he sat forward, eager to hear the tale.

Peter looked surprised, "What were you doing going down the pits in the trophy room?" he asked, eyes wide, "There could be anything down there!"

Sirius shook his head, "I went down the right one. Ended up in the laundry room, just like we'd planned, and I got the blankets --"