There was a loud squeak from the direction of the fireplace. The short, blonde, and slightly rotund figure of Peter Pettigrew stumbled out of the emerald flames, looking a trifle dazed. It took a moment for his brain to confirm that he had in fact arrived at his intended destination, the Potters' house in Godric's Hollow, and not somewhere inconvenient and unfortunately without a supply of Floo powder.

His face lit up like the candles on a birthday cake as he recognised his three best friends waiting on his arrival. He looked from Remus to Sirius, beaming brightly, but slowly realised that neither of them had even looked in his direction, let alone greeted him. It had been a whole three weeks since the end of the school year, and they didn't even greet him? He felt his good mood evaporating.

Yet, it didn't seem to be personal: their eyes were locked on something else, their expressions stunned. With gradually increasing suspicion, Peter looked finally to James. And then, at once, he understood. His jaw dropped.

James Potter, Quidditch Captain, prankster extraordinaire, Mr Popularity and object of Hogwarts female fantasy, looked like a complete idiot. He was dressed in a loose white shirt with the top few buttons undone, a pair of high-waisted black trousers and a long black belted coat, and had greased back his messy hair. He wore a solemn, serious expression that, ironically, was one of the funniest things Peter had ever seen.

As he stifled a laugh, it occurred to Peter that something about James' getup really reminded him of someone else, but he couldn't quite grasp who it was.

"So, have you been Imperiused, or did you just go completely crackers?" Sirius asked, bluntly, obviously shocked by the fashion choices of his best friend.

"You do realise you look like a rake from some Regency romantic drama, right?" Remus queried cautiously, worried about James' sanity.

"A who from a what?" Peter asked, blankly.

"And you have enough oil in your hair to open a fish and chip shop, Viscount Greasy," Sirius pointed out, completely ignoring Peter, as per usual.

James sighed, dramatically. Remus and Sirius shared a startled look.

"See, even my best friends, my brothers in all but blood, don't understand me," he cried, raising one hand to his forehead in an affected manner.

"Ok, Duke of Depressing," Sirius said brusquely, turning to Remus, "I'll grab his arms, you grab his legs, and we'll go dump him in the ornamental fish pond."

"Oh, sod off," James broke character to grump at his friend.

Peter grinned brightly at his bespectacled chum.

"Oh, you're pretending," he stage-whispered, nodding encouragingly. Sirius muttered something unintelligible and probably profane under his breath, and Remus shook his head despairingly.

"I am trying to become a mature, sensitive and considerate person, here, and you bunch of imbeciles are making it rather difficult," James huffed, crossing his arms and then quickly uncrossing them again to slide his glasses back up his nose.

"Imbeciles?" Remus asked, flatly, "Coming from the boy who thinks being mature means looking like a pillock?"

James let out an irritated and much more genuine sigh before flopping down on the couch, defeatedly.

"Well, what else am I supposed to do?" he asked, plaintively.

Sirius, Remus and Peter all shrugged rather unhelpfully, and joined James in slouching around on the sofa.

It finally occurred to Peter whom it was that James' new look reminded him of. He practically squeaked in excitement, and danced impatiently from one foot to the other.

"Oh! Oh!" he exclaimed, and the other three boys all turned to look at him in a startled fashion, "I've worked it out!"

"Worked what out?" Remus asked, tentatively, "What a rake from a Regency romantic drama is?"

"No, don't be silly," Peter waved him off smugly. Sirius and James shared a disbelieving look. There was no way Peter had a clue what a rake from a Regency romantic drama was, after all.

"No," he continued blithely, "I've worked out who Prongs looks like in his silly costume."

"It's not -" James started, crossly, but Sirius slammed a hand over's James' mouth, silencing him.

"Enough, Lord Lunatic," he said with a smirk, before looking to Peter curiously, "Ok, Wormy. Out with it then. Who does the Earl of Prat look like?"

"Severus Snape," Peter revealed in triumph.

There was silence in the Potter house for a long moment. The sound of a dog barking several streets down drifted in through the window, and the ticking of the clock seemed deafening.

Then, Sirius and Remus burst into laughter. James looked caught somewhere between mortified and murderous, and rendered completely incapable of speech.

"I can't believe even you would be stupid enough to try and impress Lily Evans by rebranding yourself like Snivellus," Sirius chuckled, rather tickled by the whole idea.

"Especially since they are not only no longer friends, but, despite his very obvious interest in her, she has never once deigned to actually date him," Remus reminded them.

"Wait a minute," James objected, "I never said this had anything to do with bloody Evans."

"Oh, right, of course," Sirius said, totally deadpan, "Because it never has anything to do with Evans. Ever."

"Exactly," James agreed, not quite picking up on Sirius' sarcasm. Sirius raised one eyebrow pointedly, and after a moment's blank look, James rolled his eyes and punched Sirius on the arm.

"Ouch, mate, watch it," Sirius grumbled, before his face lit up in a devious smile, "I'm sensitive, you know."

At that point, James went really rather red. Remus quickly intervened, in the hope he'd save Sirius from an untimely curse. Not that Sirius didn't deserve it, but Remus would probably end up having to clean up the mess.

"Ok, alright, why don't you go and get yourself de-Snaped, Prongs, and after that we can brainstorm how exactly one goes about becoming a sensitive, mature and considerate person without resorting to leaving our hair unwashed for extended periods of time, eh?"

"You mean, like a plan?" James asked, slowly.

"Yes, like a plan," Remus agreed quickly, bundling James off the couch and towards the door to the hall, 'Off you go."

James complied, shuffling out of the room in a way rather reminiscent of a deflated balloon.

"Dear lord," Sirius said, as soon as he was sure James was out of hearing, "That boy really is an absolute muttonhead."

"And to think Dumbledore thought I'd have any kind of influence over either of you," Remus lamented.

Peter, however, was deep in thought.

"A plan?" he asked slowly. Sirius and Remus turned to look at him, warily, unsure what crackpot query might come out of Peter's mouth next.

"A plan," he repeated, carefully, "Like for a prank?"

"Yes, sort of," Remus said cautiously, with a look of concern to Sirius. Peter considered this for a moment, then sighed.

"What's that for?" Sirius asked suspiciously.

"Just, poor Evans."

Sirius barked with laughter.

"Poor Evans? Why not poor Prongs? He's the one who's been mooning after her for five years."

"Yeah," Peter admitted, "But Evans is the one who'll be stuck with him."

The other two boys considered this for a moment, before matching smiles of amusement lit their faces.

"Yeah," Sirius echoed in agreement, "And not just him, either: we're a package deal, us four."

Remus stifled a laugh.

"Poor Evans indeed. But at least she didn't have to deal with the sight of James Snape."

Sirius shuddered.

"I think that image might be burned into my brain forever. I'll never see Snivellus the same way again."

They sat in disgusted silence for a moment.

"You know what," Peter said brightly, breaking the silence, "I'm really hungry. Do you fancy fish and chips for tea? I've got a sudden craving."