A/N: Although parts of this story have been altered for entertainment reasons, the following is based on a series of actual events. Scary, no?

Life Lessons I:

Timing is Everything

"This is too boring," Sirius yawned.

"This is too hard," complained Peter, trying and failing to turn his mirror into a marmot.

"It's too hot," James moaned, not paying any attention to his Transfigured mammal as it made a break for the edge of the table, fell off the side and scuttled toward the door and freedom.

"Well, at least it's a dry heat," Remus said cheerfully. The others stared at him in disgust.

"Your optimism is perfectly sickening."

"Sorry," Remus apologised.

"We should do something," Sirius proposed, leaning back in his chair and twirling his quill between his fingers. "Maybe a prank … have we given the Slytherins appropriate amounts of hell this week?"

"After the tar-and-feather scheme we pulled last month, I'd steer clear of them until the exams are over," James advised. Peter and Remus nodded fervently; they remembered the fury on Snape's face as he had chased the group through the halls with his wand out and a barrel of feathers stuck to his robes.

"How about the teachers?" suggested Sirius. "Couldn't we do something to them?"

"Too risky right now," Remus said, shaking his head. "They're in bad moods - they have to make up all sorts of tests, it's boiling in the classrooms, the Slytherins are getting on their nerves - and you have to admit, spending ten months in a castle with us has got to be awful.

Did you see how Gilla's eyes bulged on Monday during the - er - unfortunate incident?"

"That wasn't an 'unfortunate incident'!" James said indignantly. "That was a stroke of genius! I mean, who else would have noticed that

Shrinking Potion was both flammable and explosive?"

"We're all very proud of you for figuring that out, Prongs," Sirius assured him. "But really, if we aren't allowed to pick on the Slytherins, and we aren't allowed to terrorise Professor Gilla … what can we do?"

"Well, that's an easy question to answer," replied Remus, taking a book out of Sirius's backpack and plunking it down in front of him. "You can study. Or are mirrors supposed to have whiskers these days?"

"Sirius, what did you do to your textbook?" asked Peter, leaning over the table and looking at the book in puzzlement. Instead of the usual red leather cover with the words Intermediate Transfiguration stamped neatly on the front, there was a picture of a roomful of clocks. A faint ticking sound seemed to come from the book as they all bent closer to get a better look.

"'Care of Your Clock,'" Sirius said, reading the title.

"Hang on, I've heard of that book before," James said. "I heard a seventh-year say that it was mostly boring, but that there were some pretty good spells included in places … but it beats me how clocks relate to curses. How'd you get this, Padfoot?"

"I honestly don't know," frowned Sirius. "I was in the library today - maybe Madam Pince put it in the wrong place and I picked it up by accident." He opened the book and began to read aloud. "'Chapter One: Setting Watches, Clocks and Sundials.' Sounds boring enough. Want to return it at lunch?"

"Wait," James said. "Let me see that."

"Got a clock problem?" Remus asked, grinning.

"Yeah, Moony, that's just it," scoffed James. "I just want to see it. This might be exactly what I've been looking for …"

~

Sirius worked away with greasy hands in the depths of the motorbike's engine. "Crescent wrench," he ordered, holding out his hand. Remus picked a tool out of mid air and passed it to his friend. The wrench gibbered with excitement at being chosen and wriggled happily in Sirius's grip.

"Quiet, you," Sirius told it, smacking it. He turned away from the engine as the wrench got to work and said, "Finite Incantatem!" The other tools, which had been hovering about a meter off the ground, dropped to the concrete floor of the workshop with a deafening series of bangs

and clatters.

Remus winced at the noise. He had always been nervous about the location of the secret room. Hidden in an offshoot of the fourth-floor passage, Sirius had built a small workshop for his motorbike, which he tinkered with for several hours a day. Students often reported the small explosions, loud bangs and creative swearing that seemed to emanate from Professor Flitwick's blackboard, but to Remus's immense relief, the disturbances had been chalked up to a colony of particularly vociferous ghosts, leaving Sirius's hideout so far undiscovered.

A rat scampered across the floor, carefully hopped over a hammer and glanced critically at the motorbike. A moment later, Peter Pettigrew stood there, eyeing the project with an expression of deep scepticism on his chubby face. "It's a piece of junk," he said bluntly.

"Of course it is, I stole it from a Muggle trash heap," Sirius said, rolling his eyes. "You've got to see what's not there yet. I'm going to get the bike running normally again, then I'll enlarge it and then I'll install the flight program. It'll be a beauty when it's done."

"Yeah … but giving it a new coat of paint might make it seem a little more - er, presentable," Remus suggested. "I hate to say it, but the thing looks like it's about to fall apart. And the rust doesn’t help."

"Well, why didn’t you say so in the first place?" Sirius asked, grinning. He clapped his hands and shouted "Accio paint cans!" The doors of the cupboard on the opposite wall burst open and several large metal tins came shooting out; Peter and Remus threw themselves to the floor just in time.

"What colour?"

"Blue," said Remus.

"Yellow," said Peter.

"Silver," said the wrench.

Sirius smacked it again. "I didn’t ask for your opinion!" he said, and turned back to his friends, looking exasperated. "I'm warning you two: if you're doing charms in here, watch where you're aiming. Practising magic around the wrong objects can have some interesting side effects."

The sandpaper scuttled up to Sirius and whined appealingly. He glanced down at it and said, "Yeah, go ahead. But when you get down to the metal, stop scraping. Someone completely ruined the back spokes last time." The sandpaper jumped gleefully onto the front tire, attached itself to a piece of metal and began to rub away at the rust.

"I think I'll use green," Sirius decided, and picked up a paintbrush.

Remus cried out in protest. "You can't! Green's a Slytherin colour! A Snape colour!"

Sirius dropped the can like a hot coal. "Oh, you're right. Red then," he said, and chose another one. The brush dipped itself into the tin, wiped off the extra drops on the side and attacked the motorbike with enthusiasm.

"Where's James?" Peter wondered. "I thought he'd be here."

"I thought he was with you two," Sirius said. "Remus, do you know where he is?"

"I am the ghost of Christmases yet to come!" said a spectral voice.

"My guess: he's right here," Remus laughed as James pulled off his Cloak, bowing low.

Sirius looked extremely miffed. "How long have you been here?" he demanded.

"Long enough," said James, and sat down against the stone wall. He was holding the copy of Care of Your Clock that Sirius had found in the library. His expression was unusually mischievous. "So," he said conversationally, "Anyone else think that classes are too long?"

"No, Prongs," Sirius said, awash with sarcasm. "They're just the right length. And by the way, if we all go up to the Astronomy tower tonight and look through our telescopes we'll see a thousand pigs with wings that skate on Saturn's rings before going to fly around the moon at midnight for the annual Winged Pigs' Rights Convention. Of course classes are too long, are you joking?"

"On the contrary, my good fellow," James said, "I have never been more serious."

"Hang on!" Remus said, suddenly suspecting devilment. "Wait a minute, James. I know that voice. What are you planning?"

"Planning? Me?"

"Yeah, what's up?" Sirius questioned. "And while we're at it, why are you still reading that stupid book?" he said, pointing to the volume in his friend's hand.

"I'm reading it because this 'stupid book,'" James said, lowering his voice to a conspiratorial whisper, "is what will make the Marauders go down in history."

Peter, Remus and Sirius exchanged confused glances.

James stood up and began to pace. "Picture this:" he said. "An incredibly clever, talented, devilishly good-looking fifth-year -" "Nobody we know, I assume," said Sirius

"- has discovered a hex in a certain book. Now, this fifth-year, who shall remain anonymous, had a flash of genius when he saw this particular hex. He said to himself, 'I could change everything with this spell. I could save students throughout Hogwarts from the tediousness of hour-long lessons. I'll be a hero. I'll be famous. Teenagers everywhere will look up to me and say, "There goes the most brilliant person ever to walk the halls of Hogwarts." I'll be signing autographs for the winners of the Order of Merlin.' And do you know what the hex discovered by this exceptional fifth-year was?"

"What?" Peter demanded, enthralled.

James flipped through the book with a flourish, landing on page three hundred and seventy-four. He waved it under their noses, grinning, and said, "The Hastius Hex, my friends. Wave your wand at any watch, clock or sundial, say the incantation it runs at five times its normal speed."

"You're kidding," breathed Sirius, snatching the book.

"No," Remus said. "No."

"Huh?" asked Peter.

~

James took a deep breath, tapped the alarm clock with his wand and said, "Hastius!" Instantly, the second hand began to move around the perimeter of the face so quickly that Peter felt dizzy watching it. James punched his fist in the air. "Yes! I've got it! You try, Remus."

Remus repeated the procedure with his own alarm. It sped up for a moment, then slowed back down again. Remus scowled, then tried again. To his right, Sirius was learning quickly (but making a lot of mistakes along the way), while Peter's clock turned into a large pumpkin and started to sing the American national anthem.

After some debate, they had decided to carry out the plan. Remus, being the only one in the group with common sense, could already tell that there would be more than a few complications, but decided to keep this to himself for the present. Despite the difficulties ahead, he thought that the Marauders might just pull this one off and didn't want to dampen any spirits.

"We'd better do it at night," Sirius said, the second hand on his clock muttering in protest as it twirled. "Otherwise we'll get caught for sure. The Cloak's not big enough to cover all four of us, so Peter should go as a rat."

"I'll start making a note of where the clocks are in the classrooms," James volunteered. "This is going to be great. Twelve-minute classes!

Just think of it: the lesson starts, and then it ends! Just like that!"

Remus sighed. He might as well tell them. "What about watches? And the clocks in offices and dormitories? What about the sundial near Hagrid's cottage? What about the sun itself? Isn’t anyone going to notice that while the clocks say it's eleven at night, it looks like the break of day outside the school? And how are we going to enchant the ceiling in the Great Hall?"

Three eager faces fell. Remus knew at once that he shouldn’t have said that. Then James forced a grin, his infamous confidence returning from its momentary slump. "It'll be hard work, but I'm sure we can manage," he said optimistically. "We know the password for every common room, so watches and dormitory clocks won’t be a problem. The sun … well … we'll figure something out."

"Thank goodness," said Sirius, relieved. "Moony, you scared me. For a moment there, I thought we'd have to give up on it."

"You know, the sun might not be such a problem after all," James said, deep in thought. "I mean, can't we fix some sort of Illusion Spell over

the castle, so that it looks like the sun fits the clocks?"

"Or we could block it out," suggested Peter, eager to contribute something to the conversation. "You know, with a screen or something."

"Yeah, that would work," Sirius pretended to agree. "You know, if the ecosystem weren't completely dependant on the sun's rays and everything wouldn't die if it was covered up. And anyway, Peter, the teachers would kind of notice."

"They'll notice if we use the Illusion Spell and the sun starts going from west to east five times faster," Peter retorted.

"East to west," James corrected automatically. "And, you know, they might not. Well - sure they'll notice, but will they actually do anything?" The others were staring at him, so he continued. "Come on, everyone, put it together. People are dependant on clocks and the sun. If clocks and the sun speed up, people will just think that the day is passing quickly. I'll bet that even Dumbledore will fall for it - for awhile, anyway."

"I think you might be right," Remus said, considering. "If the sun and the clocks seem to run at the same rate, well, people will just think that it's the correct one, won’t they? But I don't know about how we're going to do so many enchantments in one night. Every watch, every clock, plus the Illusion Spell, and that one's tough …"

"We'll be fine," James assured him. "Quit worrying, Remus. What could go wrong?"

"Everything," Sirius laughed. "But that's no reason not to try it."

~

It was midnight, but the four remaining people in the Gryffindor common room weren't tired at all (Sirius kept conjuring mugs of very black coffee to keep them awake). Lily Sheridan and Margot Langstroth had only recently left, but since they had gone the boys had made remarkable progress. They were working on mastering the use of an Illusion Charm.

"Okay, Peter, into the box," Remus ordered.

Complaining, Peter got in. "I still don't see why I have to be the test subject," he whimpered. "And would you stop thinking up scary stuff for me to see? I mean, the roomful of harpies was just too much."

"You have to be the guinea pig because you didn’t want to learn the spell," Sirius said sternly. "You might as well make yourself useful if you won’t even try. Don't give me that sad, betrayed look - you're welcome to give the spell another shot, if you like. I'll be the one in the box."

"I'd never manage that Spell and you know it," Peter grumbled. Nobody said anything.

Putting a stop to the awkward silence, Remus pointed his wand at the cardboard crate and shouted, "Visiofalta!" concentrating on what he wanted Peter to see.

"Pink elephants!" Peter cried, putting his hands over his eyes. James and Sirius roared with laughter. Each of them had been amusing themselves with the illusions they came up with - Sirius had made Peter see several banshees wearing overalls, James had invoked an image of harpies swooping around the box and Remus had thought of the elephants.

"That was really good," Peter said when Remus removed the illusion. "They faded a bit, though, while they were dancing, and shimmered when they moved in front of the fire. But they were really pink, not black and white like the banshees."

"Which one was the clearest?" asked Remus.

"The harpies," Peter said, shuddering.

"Think you can do it, Prongs?" Sirius grinned, slapping his friend on the shoulder. They had agreed that whoever learned the Illusion Spell the best would perform it on the school. James nodded, accepting the challenge. He hoped fervently that size didn't matter - Hogwarts was a lot bigger than a box.

Next, they practised their Hastius Hex, working until even Peter could do it, and pored over the Marauder's Map to see if there was anyone in the halls who might bother them. No teacher was on patrol that night, so James went up to his dormitory to get the Invisibility Cloak while Peter transformed.

Remus pocketed the rat and sat down in an armchair, being careful not to crush Peter into a pulp as he did so. (A/N: Shame he didn't.) Sirius was almost bouncing off the walls with enthusiasm. "This is going to be big, Remus. I can feel it in my bones. Newcomers will be told about the

Great Clock Scheme for years after we're gone, in awed, hushed voices. They'll dedicate a corridor to us in honour of our brilliance."

"Or we'll just get detention," Remus commented. "And fifty points from Gryffindor."

"That too," Sirius said, waving a hand impatiently, "but genius disregards the petty consequences of their great deeds. I can't wait to see what the teachers are going to be like at this time tomorrow. They'll be frantic!"

Remus hoped that Professor Dumbledore had a decent sense of humour.

James re-entered, carrying the Cloak under one arm. He had his wand stuck through his belt and was looking nervous but excited. Together, the Marauders threw the Cloak over themselves and crept out of the common room.

They had decided that they would split up into groups of two. James and Sirius would charm the clocks on the lower floors and Peter and Remus would handle the top. Remus and Peter, being less skilful at dodging angry teachers, would wear the Cloak. The four boys would meet on the first floor when they were done, at which point James would sneak outside and perform the Illusion Charm on the castle, causing everyone inside the building and on the grounds to "see" the sun moving at ten times its normal speed.

They parted ways at the main staircase and James and Sirius headed down to the dungeons. James carried the Marauder's Map and scanned it often, searching for any sign of danger. The night was strangely quiet, and he saw nothing.

The map was also helpful when the duo arrived at the Slytherin common room. James squinted at the tiny print and could just make out a small figure of himself, speaking to a large stretch of bare stone wall he had just passed. He and Sirius doubled back, consulted the map for the password and said together, "Funny bone!"

The walls split open and they marched inside.

When they arrived in Severus Snape's dormitory, Sirius could hardly contain himself. "Oh, please, let's curse him," he begged in an undertone.

"Just this once? It won’t take a moment, and I'll be really careful not to wake him …"

"No," James said firmly. "And what do you mean, 'just this once'? We've cursed him dozens of times. You haven't forgotten the

Tar-and-Feathering of Giant Proportions, have you? Anyway, if he yelled he'd wake the whole house."

"Yeah, I guess," sighed Sirius, tapping Snape's watch and muttering, "'Hastius.' I wouldn’t fancy being caught by a bunch of cranky,

sleep-deprived Slytherins who'd want to know why we were in their dungeon. We'd probably get the feather treatment ourselves."

"Or the Cruciatus curse," James said.

"Right. Let's be really, really quiet."

"Capital idea."

"Santa Claus?" said a faint, feeble voice.

James and Sirius whipped around to see Magnus Thatcher, a beady-eyed, hawkish sort of boy, staring at them through sleep-filled eyes. He gazed at them in puzzlement. "Hey, who are you?"

James froze for a moment, then whipped out his wand. "Have a care, Magnus Thatcher. All is known!" he said warningly, and then, "Stupefy!"

"There," said James, putting his wand away as Sirius finished the last clock. "When he wakes up, it'll be morning, and by then he'll think it was a very bizarre dream."

"What were you on about with the 'all is known' stuff?" asked Sirius, creeping down the hallway to the next dormitory.

"Oh, that," James said, looking evil. "I thought that he might get worried and give me back that ink bottle he snitched a few months ago. Of course, that was just after the Exploding Custard Tins of '73, so I kind of deserved to have it stolen."

~

Several floors up, Peter and Remus were having difficulties. Although they had finished their Hastius Hexes, they were perilously close to expulsion, and it was Wormtail's fault. In the space of an hour, Peter had managed to put both himself and his friend into danger of detection by: nearly falling out of an open window on the sixth floor; forgetting about the vanishing step on the stairs and going through it; leaning up against a suit of armor that turned out to be occupied by the school poltergeist; firmly convinced Sir Cadogan that he and Remus were off to join the Crusades; and, his latest blunder, stumbling into a portrait that had yelled for help, alerting Filch of their presence. Now, Remus and Peter were fleeing from the caretaker, under the Invisibility Cloak, and Filch was gaining.

"Next - time - you - stay - behind!" gasped Remus, skidding around a corner. He held Peter by the arm, and was dragging him on every step.

Peter was red in the face and panting for breath.

"Good - idea," he replied splutteringly, too scared to put up a defence.

"STOP RIGHT THERE!" Filch roared. "I can hear you! I know where you're going! You can't hide forever! Show yourself, you nasty little lawbreaker!"

"Not likely," Remus muttered, and then, "Get off, Wormtail!"

Peter was tugging at the sleeve of his robes, trying to get his attention. "Remus," he choked. "I think there's a - passageway - through there - through that wall, I'm certain it's not solid - like the vanishing step - we could go right through it - like the platform at King's Cross - a passageway - we should go -"

Remus could have kissed him. Thankfully, he didn't.

"Excellent," he rasped hoarsely, and pulled Peter toward the wall.

At top speed, Remus slammed into hard, pointy stone and fell back.

"A little to the left," Peter advised, with the Cloak half on: it had slid off of Remus and was hanging off Peter's shoulder, making him look like half a person. Remus put a hand to his face. His nose was bleeding and his chin was raw.

"Thanks, Peter," he growled, and tried again, very carefully this time. They made it through the wall just as Filch was about to round the corner, and found themselves in a narrow crawlspace with a low ceiling. There was no light, so Remus held up his wand and said "Lumos!" Peter tried to imitate his friend, but the short aspen wand just smoked faintly and groaned, exhausted from the spells it had performed that night.

They set off down the long, narrow, stone passage, their backs stooped. They did not speak, except for when Peter asked, tentatively, if Remus's nose was hurting him. Remus was in quite a bit of pain, but his momentary anger toward the foolish boy had subsided, and he said, in the most amiable voice he could manage with blood streaming down his face, that it was doing alright.

"Have you ever been down here before?" Remus asked presently.

"No," Peter said. "But I saw this place on the Marauder's Map once. I can see why we never bothered to go into it - it's not a very good passage, is it? Too small and cramped. My legs hurt. Can we get out soon?"

"Depends on where the next exit is," Remus replied.

"But I'm tired now," Peter whined.

It was ten minutes before they emerged from the passage, coming out beside the entrance to the Gryffindor common room. James and Sirius were inside, waiting for them and roasting marshmallows on long sticks. Remus saw, through the windows, that the sun was rising. His un-hastened watch, on the other hand, told him that it was two in the morning.

He smiled broadly and looked at James. "You did the Illusion Charm?"

"After waiting for you two for ages," James rebuked, but not unkindly. "And we finished our clocks. Did you remember to do Dumbledore's office?"

"With difficulties," Remus said ruefully, remembering the duel with the gargoyle. His head was still throbbing.

"Why didn't you meet us?" Sirius questioned.

"We got lost," Peter said, and yawned widely. "I'm going to bed."

"You probably shouldn't," Sirius said. He looked wide awake, nearly vibrating with energy. Remus caught sight of a large mug of coffee in Padfoot's hand and rolled his eyes. He was beginning to suspect that his friend was a caffeine addict. "Remember, Peter? The clock thing?

Classes are going to start in about forty minutes - forty real minutes, that is - and breakfast's in twenty."

Remus sighed. He wouldn't be getting any sleep tonight. "Sirius, give me some coffee," he said.

~

Fifteen minutes later, the school was down in the Great Hall. Nobody was really hungry, as it was actually two-thirteen in the morning, but perhaps this was best; they wouldn't have had time to eat much anyway.

Sirius was shaking with silent laughter at the sight of the teachers, who were all rubbing their eyes and looking extremely disgruntled at the early start to the day; James was keeping a perfectly straight face as he ate, and even managed not to look tired; Remus was equally sober, but felt that he might fall asleep any moment; Peter, with his head in his cereal, had already done so. He made the milk bubble when he snored.

The school had come down to breakfast in exceptionally bad moods. Passing their classmates on their way to get seats, the Marauders had heard phrases like: "It feels like I just went to bed," "I can't believe how fast that night went," and "When do we have History of Magic? I want to know when I can get some more sleep." Even Lily Sheridan, usually bright and bubbly, was snappy and irritable as she yawned over a bowl of corn flakes.

James glanced at his altered watch and nearly leapt out of his seat in surprise.

"That spell really works!" he exclaimed. "We're late for Charms, let's go!"

Sirius shook Peter awake and glanced around mischievously at his classmates, who had just begun to look at their own watches. "What? Nine already?" "Was I that slow?" "I haven't even finished my pumpkin juice yet!"

They hurried upstairs to Charms, where Professor Flitwick berated them for being late (although his heart didn't seem to be in it; he had large purple hollows under his eyes and was drooping over his desk) and began to lecture them on the proper use of a new charm. Behind him, the Marauders could see the second hand of the classroom clock ticking madly, and Remus gazed at the sun outside. If he stared really hard, he could almost see it moving.

Professor Flitwick was quite bewildered when James raised his hand and said, "Please, sir, it's time to go."

"Don't be silly, Mr. Potter, it can't be - blast and avast, it is time!" said Professor Flitwick, staring at the clock far above his head. "In fact, you're late! Hurry up, no homework - you wouldn't know how to do it, I didn’t give you the notes yet - we'll continue our work on Chattering Charms tomorrow!" he cried after the class, which was already halfway down the hall, talking excitedly about the brevity of the lesson.

"Does today seem to be going - faster than normal?" asked Lily, catching up with the Marauders.

James turned bright red and started stammering out an answer that didn't make sense, but Sirius said, quite solemnly, "No, it doesn't. In fact, I've been thinking that things are going very slowly today."

Lily was staring at Sirius with a peculiar expression.

"What?" he asked.

"You're not blinking," she said uncertainly. "Is that coffee you're holding?"

~

"This is paradise, this is bliss," sang James, dancing down the corridor in front of his friends. His exhaustion had been pushed aside by excitement, and he was enjoying the joke immensely. "I told you guys that this would be great! The teachers are going nuts! The Slytherins are going nuts! Did you see Snape's face when he passed us today? He looked like he'd sat on a porcupine, he was so mad!"

"I've died and gone to heaven," Sirius said decidedly. "A History of Magic lesson that only lasted ten minutes! Binns started to drone - and then he stopped! It was great! You know what? We should do this every year! Not all year, of course, that would get a little chaotic - but just around exam time - we make a midnight excursion, speed things up a bit, have fun for the rest of the term!"

"I wonder if there's an Un-Hastius Hex," Remus said thoughtfully, waking up a bit now that he'd eaten some food. "To slow things down, you know? We could use that one during the Christmas holidays, make them last for months."

"You're brilliant," James said joyously. "This is so cool, messing around with time. I feel kind of sorry for all the poor tired people wandering around, half-asleep - but hey, they'd be grateful if they knew what was going on. I already heard somebody say how quickly their Herbology lesson went, and they sounded pretty happy about it."

"This is the best prank we've ever pulled," said Sirius.

~

By the end of the day, Hogwarts was in a state of near panic. The students were studying for the exams, which would start in two days, and every time they checked their watches, over an hour had passed. No one went to bed at eleven, as they normally would have, but instead stayed up, trying to cram more information into their heads. People left for the bathroom to return "two hours" later, astonished to find that so much time had passed, and hurried frantically to their books, determined to study.

The Marauders were trying very hard to act like nothing was wrong, but it was difficult. They were tired (except for Peter, who had slept all day, only waking up when they had to move on to the next lesson), hungry (it was hard to eat anything when their meals only lasted for twelve minutes) and cranky.

In spite of the minor difficulties, James and Sirius didn't think of giving up for a minute: lessons had gone by so quickly that they were thrilled with their success, and as James said, "It's only a matter of time before we adjust. In a few more days we'll be used to it." Remus and Sirius managed a quick chess game before they went to bed, and they agreed that, all things considered, the day had gone excellently.

After a one and a half-hour nap, the sun had risen again. Gryffindor Tower was in an uproar when their alarm clocks started ringing: absolutely no one could believe that the night had gone so quickly. The influence of the Marauders was large, however, and when they declared that no matter how slow everyone else was at this time of the morning they felt wide awake, everyone followed (if somewhat reluctantly).

Remus's watch was the only one in the castle that hadn't been tampered with. He glanced at it as they nearly ran to Transfiguration, and wasn't surprised to see that the actual time was seven-thirty on the morning of the previous day. Inwardly, he marveled at how well the Marauders had pulled this one off, and, slightly rested from his short sleep, he hurried into the classroom.

Inside, he saw that the prank was having a bad effect on Professor McGonagall. No sleep and short classes didn't seem to agree with her. The teacher's mouth was so thin he could hardly see it; she was clenching and unclenching her hands, leaving deep fingernail marks in her palms; a muscle in her cheek was going rapidly; and she was taking deep, trying-to-control-yourself-but-not-quite-managing-it breaths.

"Sit down," she said in a strangely high voice, and the class did so, very meekly. She was eyeing them like they were prey to be pounced on and attacked at any given moment. James, the bravest in the group, felt rather intimidated when he saw his teacher's eyes flash, and thought that he shouldn’t tell her that the lesson was already half over.

Six actual minutes later, the Professor glanced at her watch threateningly, as though she was daring it to show that the class was finished. Watches, however, do not feel fear, and McGonagall's told her, quite clearly, that it was ten-o-clock. She ground her teeth against each other, barked, "No homework!" and the Gryffindors fled.

There was a strong smell of coffee when they entered the greenhouses. Professor Sprout held a large, steaming mug of it in her hands, and many of the students looked enviously at it when they came through the door. Sprout took a long sip from the mug and Sirius grinned in approval. "Finally, someone else who knows how to stay awake," he said appreciatively. "Oh, come on, Prongs, have some caffeine. It'll make you feel better," because even energetic James was starting to slow down.

"That's alright," James said firmly. "I can do without the ability to jump start a car without cables."

"I wonder if that would work on my motorbike … " Sirius said thoughtfully.

All four boys, working together, had barely managed to extract the sap from a twig of Mumble Maple by the time they were dismissed. This was partly the work of the Hastius Hex and partly the work of Peter Pettigrew, who had fallen asleep on top of the twig. Sirius, though he was at least seven inches taller than Peter and much stronger, had barely been able to heave him off of it.

Lunch was short, but by then everyone was accustomed to the act of stuffing sandwiches in their pockets for later and racing straight off to their next class. People still didn't know what to make of their new schedule, but no one seemed to suspect the Hex, and the Marauders felt safe from accusation. They were so confident that they wouldn’t be discovered, in fact, that they made the fatal mistake of discussing the plan in a hallway.

Not a crowded hallway, of course. Sirius, Remus and James were too bright for that (the author will refrain from speaking of the rodent's intelligence, as the statement would turn into a long screaming rant). The only people there, other than themselves, were two Hufflepuff first-years, and they were bickering too loudly to hear the conversation behind them.

"So this is the Hastius Hex in action," Remus said admiringly. "I have to say, Prongs, I never thought we'd be able to pull it off."

"Neither did I," squeaked Peter. "I didn’t even think we were going to do it until we were heading out of the common room yesterday - I mean, two days ago - I mean, three - no - it hasn’t been four, has - no, the exams would have -"

"Don't even try to figure it out," James advised. "I've tried."

"So did I, but I got it! The actual time is nine-thirty in the morning, yesterday!" Sirius said triumphantly, waving a pad of parchment on which he'd been scribbling frantically for the past ten minutes. He'd only paused in his frantic calculations to drink from the ever-present cup of coffee.

"Is it really? Let me see," said James, and he seized the pad, glanced over the math work and handed it back to his friend, satisfied. "So it is," he said, and laughed. "Poor teachers. They've got no idea what's going on, and they're all in a panic."

"It'll be good for them," Sirius said philosophically.

"Did you see the sun shimmer for a moment there?" asked James anxiously, doubling back to see if his illusion was fading.

"It's fine, James," he said. "Don't worry about it. You do a better Illusion Spell than Professor Flitwick himself."

"I hope so. I'd hate to get caught just because of a stupid blunder like that …"

The Marauders continued on, talking. Behind them, a tabby cat sat in the hallway, so still it looked like it had been Petrified. The cat's face twitched convulsively, and immediately, it spun around and slunk in the direction of the Headmaster's office.

~

Minerva McGonagall barged up the spiral staircase, seething with fury. In all her years of teaching, she'd never encountered something like this. It was mind-boggling to think of the trouble this could have caused if she hadn't detected it early on. As it was, she didn’t dare face the pranksters herself. No, she was too angry, and if they tried to talk their way out of it she might have turned them all into protozoa. She needed Albus. They wouldn't dare to mess around with him.

She took a moment to collect herself before she knocked on the polished oak door. If she listened carefully, the voice that answered might have held an undertone of strain and worry, but Minerva McGonagall was too angry to notice. At the almost-pleasant "Come in!" from inside the office, she flung open the doors and barged inside. The portraits of the headmasters and headmistresses of Hogwarts edged nervously out of their frames.

Albus Dumbledore was sitting at his desk, writing very quickly. His usually spotless table had some crumpled parchment on it and a quill was on the floor. He hadn't even had time to clean his office, much less finish his work for the day, and it was taking its toll on him. Albus seemed older, more tired, and the benign smile was slowly fading from his face. "Hello, Minerva," he said, without looking up to see who it was, but knowing. "What's troubling you?"

"Sir, I know why the days have been going so quickly."

This got Dumbledore's attention. He stopped writing, put the parchment away and fixed his assistant with utter focus. "Do you?" he asked.

"And how did you come across this information?"

"I was a cat at the time," Minerva said, beginning to vent. "They don’t tire as easily as people, and I needed rest. I was going down a hallway to my classroom and soon saw that they were up ahead. Potter, Black, Lupin and Pettigrew, all talking cheerfully about the Hastius Hexes that they'd managed to put on every watch and clock in the school!"

Dumbledore was, for a moment, lost for words. Then he spoke. His tone was slightly strangled, as though he was trying very hard to keep something back. Minerva guessed that he was as angry as she, but she didn’t see the twinkling blue eyes. "And the sun?"

"And Illusion Spell," she spat, as though disgusted. "We only see that the sun's moving faster. It's not - that's why it was so hot last night.

It's not nine o' clock, Albus, it's nine forty-five in the morning, yesterday!"

A most peculiar expression was spreading across Dumbledore's face. For a moment, Minerva thought he was going to cry. Then she thought that he was going to scream with fury. And then he laughed.

Dumbledore laughed and laughed, guffawing until the circular walls rang with the sound and the portraits crept cautiously back to see what was the matter. The small silver instruments on small tables throughout the room stopped their puffing and whirring and turned to look at their inventor with amazement. Minerva stood stock-still. She didn’t know what to think, and had no idea of what to do. Dumbledore must have kept it up for a full five minutes before he was able to control himself and spoke against till chuckling softly..

"Minerva, think of it! For these past two days - which has actually been only a few hours! - the entire castle has been hoodwinked into thinking that time was moving five times as quickly! Don't tell me you don't see the funny side of it?"

"I'm afraid I don't," Professor McGonagall said sharply. "Albus, these boys need to be punished!"

"Oh, don't worry about that, they will be," Albus said, nodding in agreement. "But don't rush off to expel them, Minerva-" he said, and the warning was not unnecessary; she was already halfway out the door. "I believe there may be a way to use their own joke against them."

~

"Exams start today," said Sirius, yawning as the boys woke from their short sleep. "You guys nervous?"

"Terrified," whimpered Peter. "I wish there was some way for all of you to help me, besides studying with me. I don't know how to do a Chattering Charm yet, and I'm so scared that I'll fail and be thrown out. What'll I do if I am?"

"You won't fail, Peter, we've gone over this before," James said, pulling on his robes. "Let's go, the History of Magic exam starts in about five real minutes and I want to sneak some toast for energy. Wish I could've got some more sleep."

As they clattered down the stairs, Remus felt a nagging, a something, in the back of his mind. It was a feeling of apprehension, a premonition that something was going to go wrong. It was like the feeling he got when he's forgotten an important book and was already halfway to class.

Remus couldn't shake it off, and in the Great Hall it grew larger. He tried to work out the source of the feeling, but it lay just beyond his grasp, taunting him.

Showing unusual patience, Sirius was quizzing Peter on the properties of peryton fur, while James did some quick revision of his notes from class. Remus pulled out his History of Magic book, and then it hit him.

"You three!" he said in a terrified whisper. "Out of the Hall, quick! We need to talk!"

Puzzled, James, Sirius and Peter followed Remus out and stood in the Entrance Hall, watching him. Remus had gone pale, more so than usual; he was wringing his hands, shaking his head and appeared to have gone suddenly mad.

"What?" asked James.

"Exams - exams!" groaned Remus.

"You're scared?" Sirius said in disbelief. "Are you out of your mind? You're top of the year in three subjects, you got a hundred and twelve percent on your Defense Against the Dark Arts test last month and you've been pegging away at your books for the past three weeks! What've you got to worry about?"

"Not just me, everyone, the whole school," moaned Remus. "We usually have an hour to write an exam, right? Well, with the changes we made we'll have twelve minutes! Twelve! And we don't always finish when we have a whole hour!"

The others gaped at him. With only twelve minutes to write a ten-page exam, they would all fail.

"What are we going to do?" squealed Peter, his voice rising.

"We're doomed," Sirius realised. "We're going to be thrown out!"

"Okay," said James. "We're going to be fine." The others turned to him hopefully.

"That's all I've got," said James.

Sirius made a noise of despair.

"Alright," said James, trying to think. "All we’ve got to do is - is answer the most important questions first, give the shortest answers possible, write really fast and - and hope for the best."

"That won't be enough," Sirius said, voicing what they all knew.

"It'll have to be," said Remus. He glanced up at a hall clock. "We're late, let's go!"

~

It was as bad as they had predicted. Throughout the entire, awful day, the Marauders scribbled frantically, determined to pass and failing.

Peter was in tears over lunch; out of pity, James put a Cheering Charm on him, but that didn’t stop the panic in the castle as the Marauders saw what the Hastius Hex could do.

Everyone was extremely stressed during, after and before the exams - many people couldn’t even finish the first two pages before their hour was up. James in particular felt very guilty when he saw how upset some of his classmates had become. Lily's friend Margot was in hysterics by the end of the second exam and had to go to the hospital wing for the third, where Madam Pomfrey was overrun with people who'd got sick from nerves.

"We're in over our heads here," muttered James at the Transfiguration exam. Although everyone normally had six minutes in which to transform their cupboard into a cuckoo, the Hex had reduced that to seventy-two seconds. Only James and Sirius had been able to do it; even Remus had needed more time.

"You could almost see how happy McGonagall was when I flunked," Remus said gloomily. He was numb with shock. "There was this glint in her eye. I honestly thought she was going to laugh at me - and even she's not usually like that …"

"No sleep makes teachers turn nasty," Peter said bouncily, the Cheering Charm still taking effect. "It's one of the facts of life, so perk up, I say! Hey, you want to sneak out tonight and go to Hogsmeade? I'm in the mood for Chocolate Frogs!"

Sirius hit Peter in the arm. Peter punched back affectionately, completely missing the point.

"We need to tell Professor Dumbledore about the Hex," sighed James at last, after dinner was finished. "There's nothing else for it. At least he'll let the rest of the school take the exams over again. We'll get in trouble, but you know - we're going to be expelled anyway, so we might as well 'fess up."

Remus and Sirius nodded. Peter was having an animated conversation with two portraits; the pictures were the only ones in the school who shared his high spirits. James wanted to pretend that he had acted alone, without the knowledge of the Marauders, but they wouldn't hear of it and insisted on going along.

That evening, three very sober Gryffindors (after the Cheering Charm had worn off, Peter had had a emotional fit and had to be left behind) stood in Dumbledore's office, the blue-eyes, silver-haired Headmaster sitting before them. The tips of Dumbledore's fingers were together, his voice was low and the Marauders were certain that, if they had dared to look him in the face, his expression would be unusually grave.

James told the story of what had happened, starting with Sirius's book and ending with the night the Marauders had cursed the clocks.

"- we didn't know what we were doing or what was going to happen, but when the exams started we realised that the school would fail, so we came to you. I'm really sorry, sir - and it was my idea and I did the Illusion Spell, so it wasn't Sirius's fault or Remus's, and Peter never wanted any part of it at all."

Dumbledore said nothing. James went on.

"So you see, sir, the days haven't been going by quickly, not at all. It was all the Hastius Hex," he concluded. "And the Illusion Spell," he added as an afterthought.

There was a few seconds of silence. "I know," said Dumbledore.

Three pairs of jaws fell open.

"You knew?" spluttered Sirius as though the world had gone upside down.

"How?" demanded Remus.

"Why didn’t you stop us?" James asked, astonished.

Dumbledore held up a hand. The three boys grew silent. "I have been aware of your prank since last night - what I was led to believe was last night. Professor McGonagall is, as you know, an Animagus, and hears a great many things."

"But why wait until we came to you?"

"For two reasons, Mr. Potter," said Dumbledore, and he held up one finger. "One. To see if you would confess, and I must say I'm very pleased that you've done so. Two," he held up another finger. "I wanted you to see what so-called innocent pranks can do. After witnessing what your classmates went through during the exams, and experiencing it yourself, I believe that you have learned your lesson. Am I right?"

"Yes, thank you."

"You got it."

"Definitely."

"And - er - what about our punishment?" Remus said awkwardly, dreading the answer.

Dumbledore smiled reassuringly at them. "You, along with the rest of the school, will be allowed to take your exams again, and I will not expel you. However, I insist that each clock and watch you enchanted will be re-set by the four of you, and I expect Mr. Potter to remove the

Illusion Spell at once."

The Marauders grinned in relief.

~

"That's all of them," said James, re-setting the last clock and tossing it into the pile.

"It feels good to get back to normal time." Remus said.

"I'm glad we got to take the exams over again." Peter contributed.

"I want some coffee," grumbled Sirius.

A/N: Hope you like my latest! There will be four more Life Lessons, each one about a separate prank.

Luv 2 all,

Meagan