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Peter huffed as he and Sirius sprinted through the corridors to McGonagall’s office. The others would already be there by now, surely. Their plan had been very specific. And here they were, running through the corridors like mad men because someone had accidentally magnetized all the dormitory’s doorknobs and Peter’s hand got stuck. Of course, the only thing that could affect this badly the plans of someone with a metal prosthetic hand.
With the help of Sirius, and a considerable amount of failed spells, they finally succeeded in freeing Peter’s hand from the door. This left them, however, with less than no time to spare.
Their job was simple. They just had to keep guard of McGonagall’s office, with an eye on the Marauders’ Map, and be prepared to divert and/or stall anyone who approached. They couldn’t easily keep a surprise if they were interrupted by Mrs. Norris.
When they made it to outside the door, out of breath, Sirius and Peter leaned against the wall to rest. Sirius lifted up the map and barely muttered the password phrase and they watched it come to life.
Peter, now with a better control of his lungs, looked more intently at the map. Once he found McGonagall’s feet a floor below, he exhaled in relief.
“This could have been a disaster,” Sirius laughed, standing up straighter now. “Minnie won’t be expecting a thing.”
Peter grinned as he thought about their other friends, currently in McGonagall’s office, doing the finishing touches.
“Maybe now we’re leaving she’ll start letting you call her that,” Peter joked. Sirius gave his shoulder a playful shove. Their laughter ceased, though, when they heard a familiar noise from around the corner. They barely had enough time to whisper the ‘Mischief Managed’ before the map was snatched from their hands by Filch, who wore a nasty expression.
“What did this just say?” Filch questioned, shaking the now empty packet of parchment in their faces. “You made the words disappear!”
“I’ve no idea what you mean, Sir,” Sirius said, putting on his most false innocent expression. “It would be a pity, though, if the other teachers thought you were—seeing things that weren’t there.”
Peter hid his smirk as well as he could, watching Filch shove the map into a pocket in his robes. Just as they thought they were off the hook, around the corner walked Professor McGonagall.
“What is going on here?” she asked, raising an inquisitive eyebrow to Filch. He stumbled over his words for a minute before deciding what to say.
“These two were swearing up a storm out here!” he insisted. Peter rolled his eyes. He had to have known that Filch would find some other way to get them into trouble.
“I’ll take it from here, Argus. Thank you,” McGonagall assured him, turning then to Peter and Sirius. “You two will follow me to my office.”
Oh no, Peter thought. We haven’t heard James’ signal.
“Er—Professor! Wait!” Sirius shouted, earning wide eyes from their Transfiguration teacher. He looked around the corridor, panicking, until his face lit up with what Peter could only hope was a good idea. Proof that you should not build a castle of hope on a mountain of sand was when Sirius started tap dancing in the middle of the hall. Peter’s mouth fell open, unsure of what to even do, until Sirius nudged his shoulder.
“Right, yes Professor,” Peter mumbled, still in disbelief of what he was about to do. “We have been working on this a long time.”
The two boys looked to each other and tried to mimic each other’s dance moves, but Peter thought that had to make them look even more ridiculous. Alas, they had no choice but to fully commit to the farce. On a regular day, Peter assumed McGonagall would have urged them to stop and move along before they had even gotten started. On this day though, the last before they would board the train home for the last time, she just faintly smiled at the scene.
“Professor!” came James from around the corner. Peter and Sirius stopped their routine—if you could even call it that—at once. Here we go.
“I was just escorting Mister Black and Mister Pettigrew to my office, but I suppose you may come along,” she said. The three boys followed her the few meters to her office, buzzing with excitement.
“I had no idea you two were so gifted in dance,” James snickered under his breath. Peter then remembered that James had to have used the cloak to walk out of McGonagall’s office and past them so he could look like he had come from the other direction. He had definitely seen their poor excuse for a distraction. “You’ll have to recreate that at my school leavers’ party, you know.”
Peter turned red, but Sirius just held up his head and smirked at James like he had been challenged.
As they watched McGonagall twist open her doorknob, Peter’s stomach did flips.
“Surprise!”
McGonagall took a step back to get a good look at the scene before her. There were streamers and floating tea lights everywhere, and in the center of the office, around the desk, stood Marlene, Dorcas, Mary, Remus, and Lily.
“We wanted to thank you for being such a great Head of House,” Lily said, gesturing to the cake before her.
“You’ve been a major part of getting all of us through Hogwarts,” Dorcas said, her eyes glazing with tears.
“We really couldn’t have done it without you,” said Mary.
“You’ve advocated for all of us whenever we’ve needed it,” Remus added. Peter had never ever seen Remus cry—and he wasn’t sure he ever would—but this was the closest he’d ever seen him come to shedding a tear.
McGonagall looked on the group with pride before stepping fully into the room with the other three.
“It has been a pleasure and an honor being your teacher,” she said, voice cracking with emotion. “While it hasn’t been easy—“ A laugh from around the room. “I have learned a great deal from all of you. I am confident you will be the change our world needs.”