Play Crack The Sky [James/Sirius/Open]

A small, throaty chuckle escaped the lounging Gryffindor's lips at the antics of his dearest mate as the lad rolled out of bed and straight onto the rough carpet. “Careful there, Pads, wouldn't want any bruises marring that face of yours. Or...perhaps you would? A scar or two can be an effective tactic for capturing the attention of a few tipsy woman.” James offered, a genuine grin plastered to his face. The humor of the situation continued to augment, as Sirius shuffled through his chest for a pair of trousers, typically essential to a night out on the town. Potter stayed in his current position as his friend headed to the bathroom, contemplating his question on what tonight's adventure could possibly entail. Snatching the map from beneath his pillow, he plotted out the perfect course of action.

Filch appeared to be in the company of several younger students, apparently caught lurking about the astronomy tower after hours. Ms. Norris faithfully stood near his location, presumably keeping card of the lengthy stairwell. That ought to keep the duo occupied at least long enough to sneak out of the Hogwarts grounds unnoticed. “Filch has snagged a plethora of young Hufflepuffs, he'll be divvying up detention slips for the next half an hour. We can take the passage directly into the cellar of Hogsmeade. We can stock up there, then head to The Three Broomsticks? Rosie will surely stash our property behind the bar for the evening, given a fair enough tip.” James concocted a brief plan out loud, his eyes still scanning the map for prefects. Luck was obviously on their side, as the prefects were all congregated in private quarters. It must be their weekly briefing, as it was highly unlikely that such an array of students would be having a rendezvous without school-deemed necessity. That is, of course, unless Lucius Malfoy had recently become fast friends with Lillian Evans and the like.

Potter's mind wondered, as it so often did during his brief interludes of silence. His schedule was ridiculously busy this year, between several NEWT level classes and Quidditch. He hardly had anytime at all for a bit of mischievous fun. He yearned for the burn of whiskey in the pit of his stomach, and the evergreen bite of gin on the back of his tongue. Above all else, he needed to forget that he by some sick twist of fate, Professor Riddle had paired him with the vulgar, and more often than not malicious, Bellatrix Proserpina Black. He groaned inwardly, massaging his temple as he recalled the details of the impromptu duel in the middle of Defense Against The Dark Arts Class. Had it been any other teacher, the pair would have faced a months detention, or possibly suspension from their respective Quidditch teams. As it happens, Bellatrix was Riddle's pet, or something, and he dared not bestow punish upon them. Rather the opposite, he seemed quite pleased with the spectacle. The rumors surrounding the man were morbid and ominous, to say the very least.

“Honestly, the intricate details of tonight's escapades matter little to me, as long as I'm wasted for the vast majority of the evening.” James began, rising from his comfortable position. He headed towards his chest, trifling though his belongings as he continued. “I would appreciate forgetting the existence of Hogwarts for a night, and perhaps even whisking my own name into oblivion. Did you have any prospective suggestions for our adventure?” he questioned, still digging through his trunk. At last, his hands fell upon the silken fabric of his most prized possession, the Invisibility Cloak passed down to him from his father. It had been a gift for his 15th birthday, and the Marauders had used it their fair share of times in the past year or so. He savored the ethereal feel of the splendid cloth within his hands, folding it over his arm as an extra precaution for the evening. Wouldn't want any Professor's or Administrative Staff to see them out in the village, now would they?