Potions 101

Remus's POV

Unlike most nightmares, which end once you've woken up, our particular nightmare began as we woke up. To James's snoring no less. In fact, James was so bad, in first year our roommate decided that sleeping in the common room would be preferable to experiencing the sonorous breathing of our comrade. We were all appropriately apologetic for the exact length of time it took for him to move out, then promptly claimed his area to hide all of our slightly illicit belongings. I suspect that he had the right idea, because he moved in with the girls of our year, while we were stuck with James.

Sirius responded to James's nocturnal noises in the traditional manner, throwing a pillow. I have yet to see how this helps matters. James still snores and Sirius is now bereft of a pillow. However, try reasoning with him and all you receive is a blank stare.

Peter rolled over, burying his head under a pillow. Sirius eyed the pillow, avarice in his eyes. Raising one eyebrow, I flicked my wand at James. I've always found a silence charm to be the best method. Peter argues that the only reason that Sirius acts like a complete moron every morning is because he knows that I'll cast the charm, therefore saving him from expending the effort. Peter is remarkably cynical about that sort of thing. After all, I doubt that Sirius is that alert in the mornings as I have actually witnessed him walking into furniture. He argues that it was bewitched and that it was not his fault. We all smile and nod understandingly while trying to fight back grins.

The snoring silenced, I stole a glance at the clock beside my bed. The hand was pointing to 'Get up or you'll miss breakfast!' I took this as a hint that getting dressed in immediate haste could be a good idea. We all exchanged glances.

"I'm not doing it!" Peter said quickly. "I did it yesterday. Took Madam Pomfrey absolutely ages to remove the hex marks."

"Professor McGonagall banned me from waking anyone up ever again," Sirius pointed out mournfully. "I don't understand why really."

"The fireworks might have something to do with it," I pointed out. "Or maybe the use of a dragon's hand to shake him awake. And there is no way I'm going near a sleeping James. I'm not suicidal."

"Don't tell me, it's magic again," Peter said wearily. "Why can't James just invest in an alarm clock like everyone else?"

"Because that would just be practical. An admirable quality, but not one that James possesses," I answered reasonably. I rolled my eyes at the reluctance of my fellow housemates and waved my wand. "Enervate!" Oh, and before I forget, should cancel the silencing charm. "Finite Incantatem."

James jerked upright, blearily rubbing his eyes. Once he had finished with that particular ritual, he sent a patented death glare in my direction. I'm sure that I might have been afraid somewhat had James's hair been in slightly less disarray. While James naturally has disorganised hair, today it was worthy of a mention as I didn't know that hair could behave in such a manner. It was a remarkable feat of nature that Muggle scientists will spend decades trying to puzzle how it is possible according to their laws of science. We've given up trying to explain it.

"Come on James!" Sirius chivvied as he pulled his leg into a pair of trousers. "If you don't hurry up we'll be left with porridge again, and we all know how tragic that is!" To emphasise his point, he got his foot stuck in the material and had to sit down to disentangle it.

Peter merely threw a set of school robes over his pajamas. His reasoning is that if anyone wants to discuss his choice of attire, then he wants to know what they're doing looking at him that closely. While I appreciate the point that Peter is trying to make, personally I believe that maybe he should just follow school rules occasionally. Teachers tend to be lenient if your uniform appears to be immaculate, a trend that has saved me many a school detention. Glamours are wonderful things. One day I must remember to teach the others about them.

I threw on a set of robes, ran a comb through my hair and my morning ritual was completed. Turning back to the others, I repressed a smile. Peter was standing, arms folded, tapping his foot and staring pointedly at his watch. Sirius had successfully manipulated his pants and was working on the shirt. James had yet to get out of bed.

"You planning to get dressed this morning?" I asked archly. James considered his answer for a moment then shook his head solemnly.

"Can't be bothered," he said finally.

"I'm sure Lily would be impressed by someone who can't even dress themselves. After all, most small children can handle such a task," Peter pointed out. Sirius nodded.

"He has a point you know," Sirius commented. Now this was unusual. Normally, Sirius was all for James humiliating himself in front of his latest crush, Lily Evans. Actually, James refers to her as 'the veela with hair of flame,' or something equally insipid. It took us forever to find out the victim of his unrequited love. And, unrequited it was, although unknown might be a better choice of word. Although Lily is in Gryffindor, as are we all, I believe that she has no idea who James is. James thinks of it as a tragic love of Shakespearian proportions. I think that James is being overly dramatic, and have offered to introduce James to her numerous times. His response is always the same, a flaming blush and a stuttered 'no.'

This incentive resulted in James getting dressed at a prodigious rate. Sirius pulled out a stopwatch and started timing. Peter rolled his eyes.

"Shouldn't you put a shirt on? I'm reasonably confident that there are laws against you exposing your chest in public?" he asked dryly. Sirius glared at Peter, who refused to be cowed. "Not to mention that McGonagall said that if you step out of line at breakfast one more time..."

"That she'll assign detention for you with the Slytherins. Without a wand, no less," I chimed in, smiling sweetly as Sirius turned his glare upon me.

"Right, I'm done!" James broke in. "You lot mind hurrying up here? There's food on the line here!" Ah, the food incentive. For some reason, food has become an all-important priority for James at the moment. His enthusiasm however, pales in comparison to Sirius's. Sometimes I wonder where all the food they consume goes. Considering that both of them are lanky, maybe they have hollow legs or something.

"Oh, for the love of Merlin! Sirius put a shirt on! I want to be able to eat breakfast!" James added. Sirius grinned, a sly grin that always indicates trouble.

"Jealousy. I sense a distinct aura of jealousy," he replied, voice misty in a scarily accurate impersonation of Professor Trelawney. The effect was spoiled by the grin and the raised eyebrow, but it was a decent impersonation all the same. James glared at Sirius. This looked to be yet another fight that would degenerate into a wrestle on the floor. Those two have no idea how humiliating it would be if either Peter or I recorded them and sold it to the girls of our year. Would definitely put a damper on Sirius' love life and utterly destroy James' chance with Lily. Must never suggest that idea to Peter. Resulting fallout would be on par with Nagasaki and Hiroshima.

"Food, remember?" I said. James and Sirius broke off their staring game and raced to the door. Peter and I exchanged glances and followed, more sedately. After all, James and Sirius have given Peter and I a bad reputation by association. Why encourage it?

Once in the common room, I almost walked on Ruth Wood sleeping on the floor, her head on a textbook. That textbook seemed familiar, and I struggled to put my finger on where I had seen it before. Please remember, I had only been awake for a few minutes, and my cogitative abilities were not at their peak. When it finally came to me, I turned around, horror written all over my face.

"We've got a Potions exam today!" I hissed. Peter sighed in resignation, probably resigning himself to barely scraping through the test. James' eyes widened and Sirius grinned in anticipation. I always get concerned whenever Sirius grins like that. Especially when it comes to Potions. However, my fears may be unfounded, and it might be a theoretical exam. It takes immense levels of incompetence to blow up the Potions classroom in a theory exam.

Wood raised her head and looked at us sleepily. She blinked blearily then frowned in consternation when she realised where she was.

"Well I can forget passing the exam this time," she said on a sigh. "Especially when it's practical, and I haven't even looked at invisibility potions."

"It's practical?" I blurted, all of my hopes of actually passing this exam rapidly disappearing.

"Yeah. Weren't you listening last lesson?" she asked acidly. I cast my mind back to last lesson.

"Sirius don't add that!" I yelled urgently. Sirius flashed me a grin.

"Don't worry about it Remus. It'll be good," Sirius replied. He tossed the dragon's liver into the cauldron. I dived under the table. Peter joined me. James turned around from his cauldron, wondering what on earth was going on when the inevitable happened. The cauldron blew up. Again. This was the third time this week! Thankfully it was Sirius' cauldron this time, and not a loaner from myself. My parents are flat out refusing to replace my destroyed cauldrons unless it was my fault.

Of course, knowing our luck, the Potions master happened to be standing behind James. Always seems to happen that way, although I do suspect involvement by a certain quartet of Slytherins.

"Out! Out of my classroom Black! And take Lupin, Pettigrew and Potter with you! Honestly, how can you manage to blow up a cauldron every class?!" Taking our leave, we left as quickly as physically possible, chased by taunts by Malfoy and Snape.

"No," I said finally. It was easier then explaining the whole situation. Wood is extremely lucky that Advanced Potions is divided in two, and she's in the other class.

"Any hints?" Sirius asked. Wood shook her head. "Come on, please?" he wheedled. She shook her head again.

"Give up Black, I'm not telling you anything. You should have studied like everyone else," she retorted.

"Hey! James, Peter and Remus didn't study either. Therefore not everyone studied!" Sirius replied, pointing his finger into the air in a virtuous pose. Peter snickered.

"Beware, oh impudent one, or I shall turn you into a toad," Sirius said, still in the virtuous pose. Judging from the lack of response behind me, Peter seemed unimpressed.

"You did that last week, and it was kinda fun. Anyway, do that and you lose my notes for History of Magic," Peter replied calmly as he pulled the big guns. For some reason, Peter is the only person I know who doesn't fall asleep listening to Professor Binns. It's an amazing gift, and one we pay him extravagant amounts of money for. After all, while Professor Binns is exceptionally boring, the exams he sets are dreadful, and extensive notes are required to pass.

"I could always buy a copy from James," Sirius suggested. Peter shook his head.

"I bewitched the paper to turn into dust if someone other then the intended recipient uses it. If James copied the parchment, he'd copy the spell too," Peter replied. Sirius looked at him in amazement. "Do you really think I'd give you a complete set of notes without that sort of protection on them? What if the Slytherins got hold of them?" Sirius nodded sagely.

"Food?" James asked plaintively. I laughed. I had to. It was funny. James turned on me.

"I'm glad that you find my suffering amusing," he commented, trying to look down his nose in disapproval. I rolled my eyes.

"Come on, stop with the whole Prefect thing. We all know that you only got it by default. I mean who else was there to choose from? Sirius, with the all time record for detentions, Peter, who no-one has a clue who he is and I didn't want it," I replied, amused.

"And with those words of wisdom lingering in my mind, I'm going to breakfast," James replied sardonically. "Anyone who doesn't wish to pass out during the Potions test of doom, feel free to join me." Sirius responded by racing to the portrait door and letting himself out. Standing at the entrance to the common room, he started tapping his foot. It's no wonder that he's a dog animagus. Even when he's human, he acts like a big, slobbery dog. And I should know. About the big canine thing that is.

We headed over to the portrait, stepped outside and walked to the Great Hall as the portrait closed behind our backs.

"We could 'pretend' to miscast one of our charms and land ourselves in the hospital wing," Peter suggested. I raised an incredulous eyebrow, as Madam Pomfrey could probably have cured the Black Plague (the disease, not Sirius's multitude of cousins, although I know of a charm that could have prevented that one) and minor charms would hardly cause her any problems whatsoever.

"I'm serious!" Peter insisted. Sirius opened his mouth, and Peter raised one hand. "That joke has been run into the ground," he continued, giving Sirius a pointed look. Sirius pouted.

"There goes yet another of my jokes," he said mournfully.

"Get a more original one next time," Peter suggested mercilessly. "Ask James for help."

"James is a walking joke," Sirius replied seriously. "I mean, look at him. How could anyone take him seriously? I mean, the hair, the glasses, the inability to carry a coherent conversation with Evans, the list goes on."

"I take offence to that insinuation," James said solemnly.

"Ah James," I said slowly. "Sirius didn't insinuate anything. He came out and actually said it."

"I know," James said complacently. "But that doesn't sound as good."

"But it's wrong!" I insisted. "And makes you sound like a moron."

"Too late," Peter inserted. "We all know that he's a moron. Learnt that one in first year."

"Guys, shut up. We're almost in the Great Hall. I don't want the Slytherins to hear us. Especially when we're calling each other names," I said quickly, in a transparent attempt to stop them fighting before breakfast. Afterwards, I didn't care, but if they were caught fighting beforehand, we could kiss breakfast goodbye. And I was hungry.

James' POV

Ah, yet another morning in the magnificent tower bequeathed to generations of precocious children by a man I both admire and envy. Godric Gryffindor...a man, whose loves would never admit to not knowing. Unlike my own... anyway. As I was saying, it was yet another morning in Gryffindor Tower. Apparently, I'd been snoring again. This much was obvious as soon as I'd opened my eyes- Peter was cowering under his pillow, Sirius' own pillow was somewhere in the vicinity of my face, and Remus was putting his wand away with a smug look on his face.

I don't see why they go to these measures- I'm hardly dangerous. All right, there were a few hexes, not to mention a couple of good, old-fashioned punches, but I didn't mean it. Of course, no one listens to me. Instead, I get the wonderful feeling of an Enervating Charm- rather like waking up to a concussion, and a Remus-induced muteness, which unfortunately rendered my tirade inaudible. Pity, really, I'd come up with some good insults too. I glared at him.

"Finite Incantatem," Remus added, somewhat belatedly. Much better. I sat up and started to rub my eyes. This accomplished nothing; it just smeared the gunk around even more. I shot another death glare around the room, but mainly at Remus. He barely noticed. Or ignored me. One of those.

"Come on, James," whined Sirius, as his leg struggled to navigate the treacherous waters of his trouser leg. "If you don't hurry up we'll be stuck with porridge, and we all know how tragic that is!"

Urgh.

Porridge.

The bane of my existence.

Its off-white blandness takes boring to new, and previously thought to be unreachable heights.

Suddenly getting dressed is looking like a great idea. Though not quite just yet.

I might add here that, seeing as I've only been awake for about half a minute that my brain is going like a twenty year old, students racing broom. Somewhat similar to the speed of a snail with a brick tied to it, but watched in slow motion. It seemed that I'd been sitting in my bed, musing with distaste of the lack of appeal of porridge for approximately 3 minutes.

"Are you planning on getting dressed, James?" Remus asked, breaking me out of my reverie. This is a tough question, and requires some deep thinking. I shook my head.

"Can't be bothered," I admitted.

"I'm sure Lily would be impressed by someone who can't even dress themselves. After all, most small children can handle such a task," Peter pointed out, in poor taste. You would think that he'd be a bit more sensitive. Sirius nodded in agreement, but I had been expecting that.

"He has a point you know," Sirius commented. I hadn't been expecting that though. I would have thought that Sirius would have been selling tickets to me making a prat of myself in front of Lily...

Lily Evans...

The veela with the hair of flame...

The apparition sent down from heaven just to torment me with her perfection... Getting dressed is looking like a very good idea. I set to it with the usual enthusiasm I have for everything I do. All right, that was a lie. But I did break my record for getting dressed. Thanks go to Sirius for timing me once again. Though perhaps he should have spent the time putting a shirt on. I didn't care to repeat the last occasion where Sirius entered the hall only half-dressed.

I believe that many of the girls were in danger of drowning in their cereal.

And McGonagall was in danger of having a stroke.

My fingers still ache from cleaning.

I believe it's time to remind Sirius of just what's at stake here.

"Right, I'm done! You lot mind hurrying up here? There's food on the line!" I declared. Food. The other love of my life. The one that doesn't care if I turn into a stuttering fool in front of it, as I'm just going to consume it anyway. If only Lily were like food.

Or maybe not.

Sirius still isn't dressed. This is getting serious. My stomach is growling like some monster of Hagrid's. My patience is wearing thin.

"Oh, for the love of Merlin! Sirius, put a shirt on! I want to be able to eat breakfast!" I snapped. Sirius grinned slyly. That's never good.

"Jealousy," he stated sagely. "I detect a distinct aura of jealousy." A rather good impression of Professor Trelawney, I must admit, despite the horrifically embarrassing memories it brought up. I noticed that I was staring at Sirius, at the same moment he did. It was on.

We stared.

And stared.

And stared.

"Food, remember?" interrupted Remus, sighing like a martyr. The staring competition was instantly replaced with a race for the door. Everything went by in a bit of a blur, and I'm sure Sirius elbowed me in the stomach, but the end result was the same. We spotted Ruth Wood acting as a doorstep, skidded to a halt and slammed into an unfortunate second year. After sending him on his way we waited for Remus and Peter.

I think they're ashamed to be seen with us.

But I also don't care.

They arrived at a sedate pace, wearing identical looks of amused tolerance. I allowed my attention to wander freely, and pictured huge towers of pancakes dripping with syrup as Remus spoke with Ruth.

Then came the worst words possible to hear. Not Avada Kedavra. These words carry connotations of unmentionable pain, suffering and torment.

"We've got a potions exam today!" exclaimed Remus, his face contorted with horror.

Avada Kedavra would be merciful.

Just when I thought things couldn't get any worse, and the images of the inevitable howlers from my parents had dimmed in my mind, Remus uttered the words that sealed my fate.

"It's practical?"

That was it. I was going to die. The last practical exam I shared a table with Sirius. I'm told that, what with the subsequent explosions, I was lucky to survive with all my limbs intact. Not only that, but my grade point average was ruined beyond repair. Putting aside my rather turbulent emotions, I focused on a problem that I actually could solve.

"Food?" I asked plaintively, verbalizing the messages from my stomach that were currently bombarding my brain. Remus laughed. He doesn't wake up ravenous.

"I'm glad you find my suffering amusing," I stated, looking down my nose at him. It didn't have the desired effect- Remus just rolled his eyes.

"Come on, stop with the whole Prefect thing. We all know that you only got it by default. I mean who else was there to choose from? Sirius, with the all time record for detentions, Peter, who no-one has a clue who he is and I didn't want it," he replied, his eyes bright with amusement. Below the belt, however it was true.

"And with those words of wisdom lingering in my mind, I'm going to breakfast," I replied, heading for the portrait hole. "Anyone who doesn't wish to fail the potions test of doom, feel free to join me." I ignored the whisper from a nameless person (ie. Sirius) saying that joining me would lead to passing out in the potions test and climbed through the hole behind Sirius. Well, first I poked my head through the hole to make sure Lily wasn't around to hear my degradation, then I climbed through. As a troupe (a feared and renowned group of mischief makers...by Filch at least) we headed down to the Great Hall. It seemed the time had come for drastic measures.

"We could pretend to miscast one of our charms and end up in the hospital wing," Peter suggested. Remus raised an eyebrow. It said everything.

"I'm serious!" Peter complained, and then pre-emptively silenced Sirius. "That joke has been run into the ground." Sirius looked slightly put out. It didn't matter. That joke's so far into the ground that I'm expecting reports that it resurfaced in Australia any day now.

"There goes another of my jokes," said Sirius mournfully. His lower lip quivered slightly, and I snorted.

"Get a more original one next time," Peter suggested mercilessly. "Ask James for help."

A regular comic genius I am.

"James is a walking joke," Sirius replied seriously. "I mean, look at him. How could anyone take him seriously? I mean, the hair, the glasses, the inability to carry a coherent conversation with Evans, the list goes on."

What is it, pick-on-James day?

"I take offence to that insinuation," I stated for the record. Remus shot me a patronizing look.

"Ah, James? Sirius didn't insinuate anything, he came right out and said it," he pointed out. I do admit, he had some valid points.

"I know," I concede. "But it doesn't sound as good."

"But it's wrong!" Remus insisted, with the tenacity of a dog with a bone. I suppose, given what he is, it's a rather appropriate analogy. "And makes you sound like a moron."

"Too late," Peter inserted. "We all know that he's a moron. Learnt that one in first year."

Definitely pick-on-James day. Before I could respond Remus quieted me in the most blatantly obvious way imaginable. But I'm not going to complain. After all...food...

Peter's POV

The day began like any other, with James snoring so loudly that I'm expecting reports of a minor earthquake being detected at Hogwarts. I waited drowsily until I head the familiar muffled thump, then rolled over and buried my head under the pillow, arms wrapped protectively around the top. Even through the layers of feathers and fabric, I could feel the intensity of Sirius' greedy stare. Too bad. This pillow is mine, and no-one's touching it. Especially someone stupid enough to throw away a perfectly good pillow at someone who can't acknowledge the sacrifice....did I mention that I wasn't entirely awake yet? I sometimes get a bit possessive about my pillow in the mornings.

Remus muttered something, a silencing charm I suspect. He is so gullible, believing that Sirius is physically incapable of performing magic in the mornings. Maybe if Sirius didn't dismantle the charms that I cast around James every night then being woken up by the human alarm clock wouldn't be a problem. There was blissful silence for a moment, and I contemplated sleep. Then Remus squeaked in surprise and I poked my head out from under the pillow. Remus was staring at his clock. That meant one thing; we were almost late for breakfast.

Now, just to get one thing straight. Yes, I am not as scrawny as either James or Sirius. Yes, I'm not exactly the slightest person around, and I enjoy my food. And I don't give a damn what everyone else thinks about that. Got that? Good.

I caught Remus' eye.

"I'm not doing it!" I said, just to make sure that no one would volunteer me for it or anything. If you speak first, you can't be nominated. "I did it yesterday. Took Madam Pomfrey absolutely ages to remove the hex marks."

"Professor McGonagall banned me from waking anyone up ever again," Sirius pointed out mournfully. "I don't understand why really." Sure you don't Sirius. I'm sure that McGonagall really appreciated your wake up call. As did Snape, I'm sure. After all, not everyone gets woken up by their bed exploding. They should feel privileged.

"The fireworks might have something to do with it," Remus suggested, obviously thinking along similar lines. "Or maybe the use of a dragon's hand to shake him awake. And there is no way I'm going near a sleeping James. I'm not suicidal." Dragon's hand? That's a new one. I should feel grateful that I have absolutely no idea what Remus is going on about. After all, my current record for detentions this year is astonishing as it is. My parents despair of me ever completing a full week here without 'doing something stupid with those miscreant friends of yours.' Parents. They were quite happy with the gang in first year. I haven't even told them about when Sirius almost killed off Snape (and improved the average quality of hair worldwide). I suspect that I would be packed off to Beauxbatons before the day was out.

"Don't tell me, it's magic again," I said wearily, repressing the urge to roll my eyes. My mother tells me off for rolling my eyes, but with these three, it's the only way of expressing myself. "Why can't James just invest in an alarm clock like everyone else?" It's a reasonable question really. If James insists on waking us up at an ungodly hour every morning, then he should suffer with the rest of us.

"Because that would just be practical. An admirable quality, but not one that James possesses," Remus retorted. I nodded to myself, vaguely annoyed when I saw Remus roll his eyes. That's my habit, get your own, Lupin! "Enervate!" James' eyes flew open and he stared around the room in bewilderment. He opened his mouth to speak, but thanks to Remus' silencing charm, no sound escaped. "Finite Incantatem," Remus added. Pity really. Now we would be subjected to endless renditions about the latest love of James' life, Lily Evans. Not only is it not very interesting, it's very repetitive. For Merlin's sake, just ask the girl out and put us all out of our misery. Then again, he would then spend hours writing dreadful poetry or something equally trite, using her as his muse. Come to think of it, I'm not entirely sure which is worse. Probably the current state, as at least the James-as-Poet thing would be novel.

"Come on James!" Sirius encouraged as he pulled his leg into a pair of trousers. I was impressed, as it only took him a few minutes to work out which end to stick his leg into. Honestly, you have no idea how difficult it is to untangle him from the insidious folds of fabric that capture their prey and hold on tenaciously. "If you don't hurry up we'll be left with porridge again, and we all know how tragic that is!" To emphasise his point, he got his foot stuck in the material and had to sit down to disentangle it. Porridge, now that is a serious threat. Or Siriu....no, definitely not going there. But porridge is the devils work. I actually have a proof somewhere that proves that porridge is actually the devil, but I think I wrote my Transfigurations homework on it. That would explain some of the looks McGonagall keeps giving me.

Rather then attempt to navigate the treachery of clothing in the morning, I merely threw my robes over my pajamas. Remus has this misguided impression that I'm making a statement of peer pressure or something like that. Personally, I can't be bothered to get dressed before breakfast and I doubt that anyone would notice. After all, if anyone's looking that closely, I want at least one date at the Astronomy Tower. Two if I'm lucky. This task completed, resumed Waiting Pose. That is, I folded my arms, tapped my foot at stared at my watch. I doubt that anyone has noticed yet that my watch died about a year ago, and I can't be bothered to replace it. Anyway, don't need working watch for that particular gesture. Remus was done and Sirius....should really consider the whole shirt idea. Just a suggestion and all, but the ramifications from last time were really quite severe. I had no idea that McGonagall was such a sadist. Maybe she's really a Slytherin in disguise or something. Nah, I don't think so. After all, why would you disguise yourself to look like that? Voluntarily? You couldn't pay me enough for that.

"You planning to get dressed this morning?" Remus asked in all seriousness. Hang on a second, I am dressed! Then I followed his line of sight to our resident alarm clock, James, who frowned slightly, then shook his head.

"Can't be bothered," he said finally. Wow! A whole sentence! Okay, so it's only a fragment of a sentence, but it makes sense contextually. This is a momentous occasion.

"I'm sure Lily would be impressed by someone who can't even dress themselves. After all, most small children can handle such a task," I pointed out. I know, not the nicest thing to say, but what can I say? Had you been driven mad by continuous soliloquies about Lily's virtues, then I'm sure that you wouldn't have stopped there. I'm perfectly restrained in comparison.

"He has a point you know," Sirius commented. What? Sirius not giving James a hard time about Lily? Has the apocalypse begun already? Damn, I didn't want to die at sixteen. I want to die a cranky old man surrounded by numerous nubile women. I smiled to myself. Sometimes I like my daydreams. However, my fantasies were shattered as Sirius started timing James, stupid grin gracing his features. I rolled my eyes at him. I'll let him believe that I find his actions immature. Hang on a second, I do find his actions immature! I hate it when I don't make sense in the mornings. Come to think about it, shouldn't Sirius put a shirt on? Please, before my eyes are blinded?

"Shouldn't you put a shirt on? I'm reasonably confident that there are laws against you exposing your chest in public?" I asked acerbically. Sirius glared at me, but I was not impressed. It takes more then a death stare from Sirius to scare me, even in the mornings. "Not to mention that McGonagall said that if you step out of line at breakfast one more time..."

"That she'll assign detention for you with the Slytherins. Without a wand, no less," Remus completed my sentence, smiling sweetly at Sirius. I sighed. Sometimes the group dynamics around here are twisted to say the least. However, my future psychiatrist will make a killing on these sorts of details. I plan to sue if the damage is irreparable.

"Right, I'm done!" James broke in. "You lot mind hurrying up here? There's food on the line here!" James has an obsession with food. Really! He constantly thinks about it, dreams about it, writes about it...when he's not doing similar things about Lily. My imaginary shrink rubbed her hands with glee at the new swimming pool she could install with my money.

"Oh, for the love of Merlin! Sirius put a shirt on! I want to be able to eat breakfast!" James complained. I don't know what he's on about. I've been subjected to it much longer than he has, and I haven't died yet. Although, it might be slow acting or something.

"Jealousy. I sense a distinct aura of jealousy," Sirius said mistily. I shivered. That was too much like Trelawney. I don't like her. Not at all. She reminds me of a grasshopper, all big eyes and shrivelled up arms. And grasshoppers are just icky. Not very Gryffindor of me, I know, but grasshoppers are gross. Oh no, they're at it again. Staring competition. Next will come the fighting. I tried to tear my eyes away from the impending disaster, but couldn't do it. It's like when Muggles have a car accident and everyone has to stop and look.

"Food, remember?" Remus interjected and the two broke off the potentially dangerous staring game. Of course, now they were racing each other to the common room. Why run, I ask you? The common room has been there since Godric put it there, it's hardly going to grow legs and move now. I looked at Remus, who was shaking his head unconsciously as he started to walk toward the door. I followed him, trying to pretend that the galloping madmen that had preceded us had nothing to do with me.

Remus stopped suddenly, and I ran into the back of him. It hurt. I rubbed my nose surreptitiously and craned my head over Remus' shoulder, trying to see what was going on. Nope, still couldn't see a thing. Hey, growth hormones, how about actually doing something? I'd like to be tall enough to see over someone's shoulder some day.

"We've got a Potions exam today!" Remus hissed in horror. What? Potions. Oh well, I should get started on my will. I leave all of my worldly possessions to...well anyone who'll have them. With the exception of my pillow. I'm being buried with that.

"It's practical?" Remus said in dismay. Okay, I want the best matchbox money can buy. And the ashes of my beloved pillow intermingled with the small remnants of me left after the explosion. I vividly remember the last practical. I spent most of it under the desk with Remus as Sirius and James got blown to kingdom come. Then the Potions master sent us out, so we initiated Plan Cassandra. I wonder whether Trelawney foresaw the exploding muck bomb that we planted in her office. Considering her appearance at dinner that day, I don't think so.

Sirius started to turn on the patented Black charm. At least that's what he calls it. Unfortunately for us, his victim wasn't susceptible to it. I wonder who it is.

"Hey! James, Peter and Remus didn't study either. Therefore not everyone studied!" Sirius argued, voice innocent and virtuous... I snickered. Not a bright move I know, but since when does Sirius do the innocent look. Everyone knows that he's easily the most corrupted one around.

"Beware, oh impudent one, or I shall turn you into a toad," Sirius retorted. Sorry, Sirius. I have to put up with Snape. You're in the little league in comparison. And, I have a hold on you. Should probably remind you of it.

"You did that last week, and it was kinda fun. Anyway, do that and you lose my notes for History of Magic," I replied calmly. There, take that. I can out-threaten Sirius any day.

"I could always buy a copy from James," Sirius suggested. I rolled my eyes yet again. I was going to use up my eye-rolling quota before breakfast? Tragic. Oh well, I'll start using my holiday allowance.

"I bewitched the paper to turn into dust if someone other then the intended recipient uses it. If James copied the parchment, he'd copy the spell too," I replied. Stunned silence. Come on, how stupid do you think I am? "Do you really think I'd give you a complete set of notes without that sort of protection on them? What if the Slytherins got hold of them?" I wish I could see what Sirius was doing now. I hate being short.

Finally accepting that Remus wasn't about to move in the near future, I started to shift forward, but was forestalled by Remus' elbow. Bony thing it was too. I gave up after receiving massive internal bruising to my rib cage. Okay, that's a bit excessive, but certainly comes close to expressing the agony I was in. Thanks to me wincing, I missed the next part of the conversation. Probably a good thing really.

"And with those words of wisdom lingering in my mind, I'm going to breakfast," James replied sardonically. "Anyone who doesn't wish to pass out during the Potions test of doom, feel free to join me." Words of wisdom? Evidently Sirius didn't speak then. I know, I'm not my best before breakfast. Just because I don't go on and on like these three doesn't mean that I'm not hungry enough to eat a hippogriff. Remus finally moved forward and I stepped into the common room. I nodded politely at Ruth, who smiled in reply. I got a smile! Go me! And Sirius didn't! My day has been made. In a state of bliss, I barely noticed walking through the portrait and into the corridor. When my footsteps changed, I returned to the real world, with our conundrum.

"We could 'pretend' to miscast one of our charms and land ourselves in the hospital wing," I suggested in the vain hope that maybe someone knows an extremely exotic one that Madam Pomfrey hasn't seen yet. Remus raised one eyebrow, conveying exactly what he though of that idea.

"I'm serious!" I added, hurt. It's not like anyone else was thinking of anything. Realising what I had just said, I added, "That joke has been run into the ground," and looked at Sirius pointedly, who pouted.

"There goes yet another of my jokes," he said mournfully. What? You actually counted that as a joke? And people say that I can't be funny. Obviously they haven't met Sirius yet.

"Get a more original one next time," I retorted absently. "Ask James for help." Yep, let's make James suffer today. After all, we all had to suffer because of him this morning.

"James is a walking joke," Sirius replied seriously. "I mean, look at him. How could anyone take him seriously? I mean, the hair, the glasses, the inability to carry a coherent conversation with Evans, the list goes on."

Growing bored of the conversation; I started to reminisce about that smile. I got a smile! Me, Peter Pettigrew!

"But it's wrong!" Remus insisted. "And makes you sound like a moron." Who's the moron? Oh, right. James is for the moment.

"Too late," I inserted. "We all know that he's a moron. Learnt that one in first year."

Remus quickly shushed us with threatening our food supply. No! Not the food! Food....

Sirius' POV

How is it possible for one person to snore that loudly and not wake everyone else up? I couldn't help but stare. He drew a breath, and then let it out in one, long go- somewhat reminiscent of a death rattle. Unfortunately for us, it isn't a death rattle, and half a second later he repeated the process. Allow me to introduce you to my best friend, James Potter, the only person in the world capable of imitating a volcanic eruption. I couldn't believe that no one else had noticed James yet.

I glanced over at Remus alarm clock. It was currently pointing at "you should get up if you want to be presentable at breakfast". As I watched it shifted over to "get up or you'll miss breakfast". The time had come for action. Peter's moved his bed away so I can't reach his pillow, but it doesn't really matter. I swapped pillows with him while he was in the bathroom last night anyway. I pummelled it a few time, getting it nice and ready, then took aim.

Score!

Remus has tried to reason with me about my morning ritual. I find that the easiest way to skip the lecture is just to stare blankly at a point somewhere over the person's left shoulder. Not only is it exceedingly simple, but it starts to creep the person out as well. However, just over Remus' left shoulder is Peter. Who is currently cuddling up to my pillow, like a mother bear with her cubs. An act that is punishable by death. Perhaps later.

I would steal it off him, but that would mean going near James, and I've still got the bruises from last time that happened.

Looking rather resigned; Remus just cast a silencing charm on James and looked at his alarm clock. The look on his face was worth the wait- I've been up since "you could still go back to sleep and get another 8 hours" to see this. After he recovered, there was a brief exchange of looks.

"I'm not doing it!" Peter said quickly, breaking under the pressure first. "I did it yesterday. Took Madam Pomfrey absolutely ages to remove the hex marks."

"Professor McGonagall banned me from waking anyone up ever again," I said mournfully. "I don't understand why really." I modified my face to a look of hurt confusion.

"The fireworks might have had something to do with it," Remus pointed out. I couldn't help myself. I had to laugh as images of the previous week filled my head.

McGonagall, the remains of her feather-filled pillow all over her dressing gown and on her clothes.

Snape, his perpetually arrogant expression replaced with a gormless look as he surveyed the remains of his bed, speechless.

My ankle, red raw, after being suspended by them for hours in Filch's office. I think it may have been the whistling that annoyed him the most.

"Enervate!" chanted Remus, waving his wand dismissively. James awoke with a start, and started to yell at Remus. I snickered at James' silent diatribe before digging through my drawers for some trousers. After finding a suitable pair, I began the daunting task of getting them on. This required my full attention, which is probably why I didn't do such a great job of it.

"Come on James!" I called, shoving one leg haphazardly into the pants. It became caught in the hem, which I promptly tried to rip.

"If you don't hurry up we'll be left with porridge again, and we all know how tragic that is!" The hem refused to compromise, and I was forced to sit down and begin negotiations. Several minutes, a pair of scissors and a bit of tailoring, and the negotiations were finished. Peter had assumed his Waiting pose, after throwing his robes over his pyjamas. One day I am going to charm the robes to be transparent, and watch him parade around in his sheep pyjamas.

Having successfully mastered the trousers, I reached for my shirt and laid it out on my lap, pondering how I was going to manage this. I was still debating whether I should pull it over my head, or put my arms through first when Remus spoke up.

"You planning on getting dressed this morning?" he asked archly. He'd already applied his Glamour for the day. One day I must point out to him that everyone knows about glamours; how else did he think the gentler sex managed to keep those perfect complexions? However I cannot comment on anyone's complexion around James lately. It's likely to lead to an entire sonnet on Lily's skin.

On second thoughts, maybe I will mention it. I could use a laugh.

"Can't be bothered," James answered finally. I'm surprised, normally we can only manage noncommittal grunts this early in the morning.

"I'm sure Lily would be impressed by someone who can't even dress themselves. After all, most small children can handle such a task," Peter pointed out. I nodded in agreement.

"He has a point, you know," I said, still contemplating my shirt. Maybe I should just skip it entirely. Before I could come to any kind of conclusion, James started to dress at light speed. I had a feeling that this may be a new record, and immediately start timing. Peter just rolled his eyes.

"Shouldn't you put a shirt on? I'm reasonably confident that there are laws against you exposing your chest in public?" he asked dryly. My musings were put on hold so I could glare at Peter, who refused to be cowed. "Not to mention that McGonagall said that if you step out of line at breakfast one more time..."

"That she'll assign detention for you with the Slytherins. Without a wand, no less," Remus chimed in, smiling sweetly. The glare shifted targets.

"Right, I'm done!" James broke in. "You lot mind hurrying up here? There's food on the line here! Oh, for the love of Merlin! Sirius put a shirt on! I want to be able to eat breakfast!" An idea pops full-blown into my head.

"I can't see any bowler hat in there," James stated in stentorian tones. "It looks more like an acorn."

Professor Trelawney turned on him, her glasses catching the light in an evil manner, blinding anyone who dares looks at her. Her voice lost its misty overtones, and she eyed James sharply.

"I detect a distinct aura of jealousy around you, child," she stated. James spluttered, and looked like he wanted to smash his teacup right in Snape's sneering face.

"Jealousy. I sense a distinct aura of jealousy," I quoted, in one of my better impersonations of Prof Trelawney. I think the overall effect may have been better had I not grinned, but it was still worthy of a high mention.

Wait a minute.

James is staring at me.

That's it.

He's on.

He should know better than to try and best me in a staring competition. I've beaten him every time, ever since we were first years, waiting to be sorted.

"Food, remember?" Remus pointed out. Just when we were getting started...doesn't really matter though. I bet I can beat James to the door...

All right, so I cheated. His stomach didn't 'walk into' my elbow. Does it matter? I still won. I didn't get much time to gloat though, what with making the sure the second year we ran into could make it to an upright and ambulatory position, and Remus stopping to stare at Ruth Woods (who, for some unfathomable reason, had decided to sleep on the floor outside our dormitory).

"We have a Potions exam today!" exclaimed Remus in horror. I didn't see what was so bad. Nothing could be as bad as the last potions lesson...though I have invested in some new, unstable ingredients... I grinned evilly as pictures of destruction filled my head.

"Well I can forget passing the exam this time," Ruth said on a sigh, her elbows having left red imprints on her face. "Especially when it's practical, and I haven't even looked at invisibility potions."

"It's practical?" Remus blurted, his face paling dramatically. All the better, it would have been much harder to blow up the room in a theoretical exam. But not impossible, especially where I'm concerned.

"Yeah. Weren't you listening last lesson?" she asked acidly. Remus looked abstracted, and I could tell that he was remembering the last potions lesson. I was particularly proud of the devastation I'd wrought- how was I supposed to know that you weren't supposed to add the dragon liver until the mugwort had finished stewing? Reading textbooks is a waste of time.

"No," said Remus finally.

"Any hints?" I asked, shooting her a winning grin. She shook her head. I grinned wider, showing a wide expanse of perfect teeth. "Come on, please?"

She shook her head again. I guess she's just immune to my charms.

"Give up Black, I'm not telling you anything. You should have studied like everyone else," she retorted, flicking through the book some more.

"Hey! James, Peter and Remus didn't study either. Therefore not everyone studied!" I pointed out, holding up one finger for emphasis. Peter snickered.

"Beware, oh impudent one, or I shall turn you into a toad," I warned without even changing posture. Peter just blinked at me from around Remus.

"You did that last week, and it was kinda fun. Anyway, do that and you lose my notes for History of Magic," Peter replied calmly as he pulled the big guns. That was just harsh. Threatening me with the loss of those History notes...wait a minute!

"I could always buy a copy from James," I declared. Peter shook his head, annoyingly superior.

"I bewitched the paper to turn into dust if someone other then the intended recipient uses it. If James copied the parchment, he'd copy the spell too," Peter replied. I stared at him in amazement. That showed foresight that I wouldn't have granted Peter. He shrugged.

"Do you really think I'd give you a complete set of notes without that sort of protection on them? What if the Slytherins got hold of them?" I nodded sagely- there was some sense in the world after all.

"Food?" James asked plaintively, tapping his foot. Remus laughed, and James wheeled on him with his "chosen one" look on his face.

"I'm glad that you find my suffering amusing," he commented, trying to look down his nose in disapproval. Remus rolled his eyes in a perfect imitation of Peter. Peter didn't miss it, he looked frustrated and I sniggered.

"Come on, stop with the whole Prefect thing. We all know that you only got it by default. I mean who else was there to choose from? Sirius, with the all time record for detentions, Peter, who no-one has a clue who he is and I didn't want it," Remus replied, amused. All-time record for detentions, hey? Sounds good to me- I wouldn't want to leave Hogwarts without breaking any records.

"And with those words of wisdom lingering in my mind, I'm going to breakfast," James replied sardonically. "Anyone who doesn't wish to pass out during the Potions test of doom, feel free to join me."

"Wouldn't following you lead to passing out in the Potions test of doom?" I asked rhetorically. James ignored me, and I doubt Remus even heard me. Damn. I bounded over to the portrait hole and let myself out, then rocked on my heels impatiently. Remus, James and Peter followed at a more sedate pace.

How droll.

"We could 'pretend' to miscast one of our charms and land ourselves in the hospital wing," Peter suggested pathetically on the way down to the Great Hall. Remus raised an eyebrow, and Peter looked put out.

"I'm serious!" Peter insisted. Aha! The perfect opening. I opened my mouth...

But Peter shushed me before I could get it out. "That joke has been run into the ground," he continued, giving me a pointed look. I stuck out my lower lip.

"There goes yet another of my jokes," I said in a funereal tone.

"Get a more original one next time," Peter suggested mercilessly. "Ask James for help." Oh well, may as well have a go at James. After all, whose fault is it that I can never sleep?

"James is a walking joke," I replied in all seriousness. "I mean, look at him. How could anyone take him seriously? I mean, the hair, the glasses, the inability to carry a coherent conversation with Evans, the list goes on."

"I take offence to that insinuation," James said solemnly. I sniggered.

"Ah James," Remus said slowly. "Sirius didn't insinuate anything. He came out and actually said it."

"I know," James said complacently. "But that doesn't sound as good." It's truly rare that James can actually verbalize something intelligent. It's no wonder everyone thinks he's a bit of a moron.

"But it's wrong!" Remus insisted. "And makes you sound like a moron." I'm not alone in my assessment I see.

"Too late," Peter inserted. "We all know that he's a moron. Learnt that one in first year." That's about all we learnt in first year, mind you. My main memories of first year involve the Forbidden Forest and the hospital wing. Whose stupid idea was it to call the forest the Forbidden Forest anyway? That's just inviting mischievous younguns like us to go looking for adventure.

Remus quieted us with all the subtleness of an oncoming train. It was time for...food...