Practicing combat magic... is a dangerous occupation. Our company very, very quickly became convinced of the truth of this statement, regularly lingering in the hospital wing during the first few weeks of our training...
At some point, it got to the point where the rest of the Gryffindor guys began to sincerely believe that we were fighting a war with the Slytherins almost every day. That's how sometimes serious and unpleasant wounds the guys and I received during our training.
"And all because of the literature sent to Black... Most of which can now only be found in the Restricted Section... And I'm also now absolutely sure that all Blacks are quite the psychos. To send a teenager a collection of spells, most of which can only be called conditionally permitted with a big stretch, you really have to be an 'originally thinking person'. And yet, according to Sirius, Andromeda is the calmest and most balanced of his cousins..." I shook my head in displeasure, recalling the consequences of a couple of missed spells.
I had a really shitty time back then, fucking shitty... But in a way, I'm even glad that such an attack hit me specifically. The guys would have been treated for such magical wounds for a really long time, and even then it's not a fact that anyone else could have recovered so easily from all the consequences of the "Curse of Decay".
It's good for me, I'm a werewolf, and a mage on top of that. My resistance to all sorts of nasty things is decent, which is why, having flown into the hospital wing with a gradually smoldering and growing wound on my left arm, I still didn't lose this very arm. And even afterwards, although our mediwitch chewed me out like there was no tomorrow, at the same time summoning Horace Slughorn to brew some particularly specific potion for my healing... but in the end, I didn't even have a scar left, although Madam Pomfrey threatened that it would never fade.
"Looks like she's not used to working with werewolves and other dark creatures, on whom almost all curses work much worse," I noted mentally, not knowing how to react to such revelations.
However, it doesn't matter. The main thing is that training didn't end with really serious consequences for us, but after that we swore off using such lethal spells in training duels. At least until we master more advanced defensive charms, and simply gain proper experience in magic to minimize the risks of new injuries.
Which, by the way, James's father agreed to help with, first sending his son literature primarily on defensive spells and tactics for their use...
"Here is someone who definitely understands that first you need to learn how to defend yourself, and only then attack," I smiled, studying one of Potter's books with interest.
"It's all bullshit, you can't win a fight by spending all your strength on defense," Sirius grumbled in disagreement, but one look from me was enough for him to immediately change his mind. "However, we should work on the safety of our bodies first anyway."
"You, as always, are right, Sirius... Work hard on your own defense, because for now you are first on the list of those on whom I want to try out the spells we are currently practicing," I grinned maliciously, making the guy sour somewhat frightenedly and guiltily.
After all, it was him, the bastard, who cursed me that time so that I was prescribed to the hospital wing for almost three days, suffering from a constant, bone-chilling pain in my left arm. Which is why I had a fairly valid reason for resentment... But there was no resentment itself. And my words were nothing more than playing on the guy's emotions so that he wouldn't slack off in training.
"I noticed a long time ago, but it's somehow more comfortable to work in a company. And if someone does something better than me..." I smiled to myself, to some extent even amazed at my own ambition.
If someone masters this or that spell faster than me, even if I haven't heard of such a spell at all before this moment, being busy training completely different magic, I still want to master as soon as possible what the guys surpass me in...
It gets ridiculous—I spent the whole training session practicing Stickfast—a defensive spell that is a protective film around the body that saves from all sorts of shrapnel... It won't save from a bullet; there are other spells for that, but in the conditions of a battle it can still be very useful.
But that's beside the point, the main thing is that I finish my training with a defensive spell, pay attention to the guys, and there James has already mastered some kind of Depulso that works better precisely on inanimate objects... Which in combat conditions can be used to accelerate the flight of transfigured projectiles.
Did James learn a strong spell? Not really. Complex? No, I learned something more interesting and more complex. Useful? Only in some, quite rare situations... But even so, the very fact that someone knows something that I don't know infuriates me incredibly and gives off a strange discomfort deep in my chest.
"I don't know where this comes from in me, but I absolutely do not want to yield to those around me in anything... Perhaps subconsciously I'm afraid of being left out if I turn out to be a less skillful wizard than the rest?" I reasoned not very cheerfully, having noticed a long time ago that some of the complexes of the former Lupin had left their mark on me.
Well, at least I was also quite critical of my own future, knowing perfectly well that my nature would play a cruel joke on me more than once or twice... A werewolf shouldn't expect any other fate in a world ruled by racist mages.
"Which is most likely why I'm so worried about other people's successes... I don't even want to yield to my friends in anything," I smiled bitterly, realizing another kink in my own mind. "However, I even like this specific kink... I see nothing wrong with becoming the strongest and most educated mage of this generation."
"What are you thinking about, Moony? Found something interesting?" James pulled me up, realizing that I had once again drifted somewhere very far from our conversation. And we were making a training schedule for the next week.
"Nope, rather thinking how to become a second Dumbledore in the shortest possible time," I snorted mockingly, not really lying with my answer. "And what about you guys, have you decided how we'll combine James's Quidditch practices, Sirius's detentions with Filch, and Peter's magical chess club?" I changed the subject, not wanting to develop my own joke.
"Yeah, looks like you weren't listening to us at all..." James shook his head somewhat offendedly, not intending to swear because of my absent-mindedness, however. Yesterday was a full moon, and I'm still somewhat broken after another transformation into a werewolf. "We were rather arguing about the usefulness of defensive spells here, rather than planning a schedule."
"Is that so... Then think. I'll adapt to the schedule you choose anyway... Just keep in mind that if we have less than five training sessions a week, I'll start waking you up early in the morning for a morning run!" I looked at the guys with a cheerful threat.
"Thanks a lot! I definitely won't be running around the morning castle. I don't have a hide like yours, Moony, I'm afraid of drafts..." Peter immediately grumbled indignantly, somewhat theatrically fearing such a prospect.
Which, however, was a good joke that allowed us all to be distracted by laughter... Well, and then I returned to reading the book again, while the guys were diligently arguing about the time of the next class. James has a game with the snakes coming up soon, which is why our Quidditch team's practices have been held on a regular basis lately.
And Peter was saying something about the Hogwarts inter-house magical chess tournament, because of which the guy will be busy all evening on Monday and Thursday... By Thursday, Sirius will just be done with his detentions, which is why they are arguing. Peter doesn't want to miss the tournament, and Sirius doesn't want to lose one of the most unloaded and simple days for him.
"It's good for me alone, seclusion in the library does not interfere with joint training in any way," I smiled to myself, ultimately forcing the Marauders to come to some unified decision. With grief in half, using both weekends, the guys managed to collect five classes a week.
True, we didn't manage to realize our own plans... And it wasn't even about another trip to the hospital wing, although it too almost cost Peter his presence at training on Tuesday once. But no, the main problem was Saturday...
The first day off of the week. The most suitable time for schoolchildren to settle old scores with their offenders... There are no classes, half of the teachers have scattered from the castle to their homes, McGonagall went to the Ministry to deal with some bureaucracy, and the senior years have a legal opportunity to briefly leave the castle to unwind in Hogsmeade—a magical village near the walls of the ancient castle.
"Truly an ideal time for revenge and a good magical brawl," I thought detachedly, having gotten into this very brawl... While the Marauders and I were busy with our own education, the Slytherins "set up a meeting" for the lions, to which we were all dragged...
More precisely, no one threw us into the fight by force, but a banal "Well, what are you hesitating like witches from Hufflepuff?!" from the house prefect was enough for Sirius and James to agree without hesitation to participate in the battle near the edge of the Forbidden Forest... Well, and I trudged after them to this nice little place, where almost the whole of Hogwarts had gathered closer to noon.
A crowd of snakes, under the cover of rare ravens, came out against a crowd of lions, who united with a bunch of badgers sticking together... The remnants of the ravens and Hufflepuffs remained at some distance, covering a bunch of girls, most of whom considered it their duty to evaluate the future battle from the outside.
Although some of the fair sex themselves were not at all averse to waving their wands on a par with the guys. In the ranks of the Slytherins, I easily noticed Narcissa Black, from whose gaze Sirius carefully hid. Among the Gryffindors, the two Attwood twins stood out clearly—seventh-years and beaters of our Quidditch team...
"Holy shit, there are a lot of them gathered here," Sirius bit his lip nervously, casting an apprehensive glance over the company of our opponents, some of whom—mainly the leaders of their houses—were now squabbling with our prefect, the captain of our Quidditch team, the prefect of the badgers, and several other guys from the fifth, sixth, and seventh years.
"What did you think... This isn't waving a wand in a random skirmish," I tsked more irritably than nervously, assessing the Slytherins' formation... Although what kind of formation is this—the students just try not to stand close to each other, which is why a couple of hundred people look like a real army.
Although, for the magical world, two hundred wizards is exactly what an army is. It is unlikely that even one and a half thousand all sorts of scum will gather on the Dark Lord's side right now, of which, Merlin willing, two hundred wizards are real Death Eaters... So the crowd gathered near the Forbidden Forest is a real force by the standards of the magical world.
"And where, one wonders, are the Headmaster and the teachers remaining in the school looking," I thought irritably, at the same time realizing that such a "meeting" simply could not pass by the Headmaster. Ordinary professors and Heads of Houses could still be distracted in one way or another, but Dumbledore... "Did the old goat just decide to have some fun at someone else's expense?!"
"Remus... In case anything happens, defense is on us," James addressed me quietly, frankly turning pale at the sight of the crowd of Slytherins. "And you know, if anything, drag me to the hospital wing."
"Stop these defeatist thoughts. Better look at our opponents—the third and fourth years of the snakes are also pale as chalk. And among their senior students there are many panic-mongers who cannot keep their faces," I grinned, somehow imperceptibly raising the mood not only of James, but also of the rest of the Marauders...
And just in time! As soon as the guys pulled themselves together, the exchange of barbs between our "leaders" came to an end, and all sorts of spells flew in both directions... Watching some of which I was finally convinced of the reason why wizards tried not to stand close to each other.
For those who do not know how to work properly in a team, being in any large crowd is like death. It is painfully difficult to dodge someone else's curse beam while in an unorganized crowd of exactly the same losers... Fortunately, the guys and I more or less knew how to work in a team. And in general, we were located, like all the junior years, on the edges of the students' "combat formation."
Thus, our main opponents were exactly the same third and fourth-year snakes and ravens. Which made things much easier...