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chapter twenty-one,
a confession long overdue
Beatrice was sitting cross-legged next to Remus on his bed, reading a muggle book that Andromeda had lent her when Sirius and James barged in, Peter scuttling along behind them.
Beatrice took one look and the large grin spread across Sirius's face and shared a knowing look with Remus.
"We..." James panted, "just had the. Best. Idea. Ever."
"Why are you so sweaty?" Remus asked disdainfully.
"Just ran up four flights of stairs," Sirius said, running a hand through his hair, "but it's worth it. Peter, show'em."
Peter rummaged through his brown satchel and pulled out a creased drawing. Sketched in a style which was clearly inspired by the type of Japanese comic books Alice was always reading, was a gaunt boy with roughly sketched eyes and high-cheekbones. It seemed that Peter had began to colour the boy's skin a pale peach but had lost track part-way through, since most of the ink was concentrated in a bright red blob covering the top of the figure's head.
Remus snorted, and put his book down. "What is that supposed to be?"
"It's Snape!"
Beatrice turned away from her friends. She knew that if she made eye-contact with Remus she would start to laugh at Peter's hilarious attempt at a drawing — something she most certainly didn't want to do because:
a) That would be mean.
b) She was an equally terrible artist.
"Then why is he ginger?"
"That, my friend, is where we come in," Sirius said with a grin.
Remus raised an eye-brow, "Is it?"
"Yup!" James said happily, jumping up onto the bed, and swinging his arms over Remus and Beatrice's shoulders. Beatrice tried to exchange an alarmed look with her most sensible friend, but the young half-blood simply looked amused. "Think, fellas', think! What do we know about Snape?"
"He's in our year?" Beatrice offered.
"Yes, but basic. Dig deeper."
"He teases Mary Macdonald for being muggle-born?" she tried again.
James's eyes darkened, "Yes, him and every other Slytherin in our year. Still not quite what I'm looking for, though."
