Author's Notes: Written for our little "Sirius Black's Bonfire Night Birthday Bash" project. Title inspired by Tom Wolfe. Love and smooches to gryffindor_j for the speedy beta, and to the rest of my co-conspirators, mindabbles and red_squared!

This first bit following the limerick was our "introduction" ficlet for the four stories written by myself, gryffindor_j, mindabbles, and red_squared for Bonfire Night, 2010, which we dubbed Sirius' birthday just for the hell of it. My story follows after.

(Sadly, Min was the only one of us who actually managed any birthday smut. :-P)

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Padfoot is handsome and charming

And some find his brilliance disarming

But he doesn't care

'cause he never plays fair

Besides, the number of people who think he's hot and want to shag him is alarming

"Hey," Remus said, leaning over to where Sirius was sprawled on his bed and smacking him lightly on the back of his head. "You're not supposed to write your own limerick! Also, that last line has far too many syllables, and it's complete shite."

"It rhymes, doesn't it? It's my birthday so I can do whatever I want. Rule 35."

"There's no such thing as Rule 35," James said, taking his own opportunity to smack Sirius in the head much harder than Remus had.

"Oi," Sirius grumbled, trying to sit up and grab James, but James had already backed away out of his reach. "Wankers, the lot of you. And sure there is. Comes after Rule 34."

Remus snorted. "Your brilliance is disarming."

Peter cleared his throat. "I know I'm going to regret this, but what's Rule 34 then?"

Sirius rolled back over onto his stomach, propping himself up on his elbows, and grinned. "If it exists, then there's porn of it."

Remus stared at him. "You made that up."

"Did not. I made up Rule 35. The real Rule 35 says that if there's no porn yet, there will be eventually. I exist, therefore there is, or will be, porn about me. Cool, eh?"

"Yeah, he probably wrote it himself. And it's probably pants like that limerick," James said, dragging Remus and Peter to the other side of the dormitory, and ignoring Sirius' pout. "Right. It's our turn to write a limerick for Dogsbreath's birthday. What have you got, Moony? Wormy?"

Peter closed his eyes and pursed his lips. "Hmm. How about 'There once was a black dog named Padfoot.'"

"No, that won't work," Remus said thoughtfully. "Nothing rhymes with Padfoot except soot."

"And kaput," Peter added.

"Yes, and that's even more helpful," Remus said, rolling his eyes and sighing. "You can't write a decent limerick with those words."

"It's because I'm unique!" Sirius called out from behind his bed curtains.

"It's because you're a nuisance," Remus said, and ducked just in time as a pillow came whizzing past.

"Maybe we should forget the limerick and write him some porn instead," James said, scratching his chin. "I'm much better at porn than I am at limericks."

Peter grabbed his pillow and buried his face in it while Remus raised his eyebrows. There was a lot of loud snorting, and noises that sounded more like choking and barking than laughter coming from Sirius' bed.

"Ha ha, Prongs! That's a good one! What do you know about sex that doesn't involve your right hand and your own knob?"

"Shut up, ya wanker," James muttered, turning red. "I have a vivid imagin—."

"Actually," Remus interrupted, lowering his voice so that Sirius wouldn't overhear, "we know people who are much better at this than we are. We should send them an owl. I think they'd be glad to help."

Peter lowered the pillow, his eyes wide. "You think they'd do it?"

"Of course they will," Remus said. "They're gluttons for punishment. And really, better them than us."

"I suppose you have a point," James said, nodding. "The only time I want to write the words Sirius' cock in that order is if I'm talking about his pet rooster."

"He doesn't have a pet roos—Oh!" Peter said. "Um. Good point."

James grinned and jumped to his feet. "It's settled then. We'll leave his illustrious cock, feathered or otherwise, in their hands. I'll go get my quill!"

.

.

Bonfire of the Inanities

Bonfire Night was Sirius' favorite day of the year, Remus knew, even more than Christmas, and it wasn't only because it also happened to be his birthday. Remus, on the other hand, had come to view the day with impending dread, though he did his best to keep an optimistic and open mind. After all, there were good things to be had on Sirius' birthday, particularly this year.

Like cake, and Firewhisky, and lots and lots of birthday sex.

So far, the day had been very good. There had been cake and Firewhisky and sex for breakfast, and with luck, there would be more of all three later for dessert as well.

"Still," Sirius said as they walked across the withered grass of the great lawn, "it seems a bit odd for Muggles to celebrate a holiday where they burned some other Muggle at the stake. I thought the burning bit was just for witches."

Remus sighed in exasperation. "They didn't burn a Muggle at the stake. Well, not that time. It's just an effigy."

Sirius shrugged. "Whatever. I don't care who they burn or why. They're all a bit nutty about it anyway."

"It was about religion and a botched assassination attempt. Now it's more about politics, though really it's just an excuse to celebrate."

"Yeah," Sirius said, grinning. "Muggles dancing drunk around bonfires in their pants, celebrating my birthday. We should start that tradition here."

"They dance drunk in their underpants?" Peter asked, suddenly interested in the conversation. "Birds too?"

"No," Remus said, rolling his eyes. "They do not."

"Do to! I used to watch my neighbors out the window in their back garden. Sometimes they did more than dance," he said, waggling his eyebrows. "Thought they were celebrating my birthday, too. I didn't know anything about that Fawkes bloke 'til I came here. You know my mum when it comes to Muggle things." He shrugged again. "They can all dance starkers around the village square for all I care. As long as there are bonfires. And fireworks. And food," he added, staring at the satchel swinging from Remus' hand.

Remus shook his head and grinned. "Yes, my mum sent you your favorite treacle toffee. It's tradition, isn't it? You're not getting any yet, though."

Sirius pouted, but Remus pointedly ignored him. "You're no fun."

"Fire first," Remus said, pointing ahead at James, who was standing on the near side of the lake next to a massive pile of branches, tree limbs and tree trunks, wand lit and shining blue-white in the gathering darkness. "It's bloody cold out here."

Sirius brightened at the mention of the fire. "I have it all planned out this year," he said, excitement evident in his voice. "It's going to be the best bonfire yet! Oi! Prongs!" he yelled, and took off at a light jog to join him.

Remus sighed. "Famous last words," he muttered. "I can't believe Dumbledore's letting them do this again."

"Can't be worse than last year," Peter said quietly.

"You said the same thing last year. We were all orange for a week. And that ointment smelled awful."

"Yeah, but our eyebrows grew back pretty quickly," Peter said. "Still," he added, glancing nervously ahead to where James and Sirius were conferring, "I think I'll sit a bit further back this time. Not that I don't trust them or anything."

"I don't trust them," Remus said, narrowing his eyes and suppressing the growing sense of dread as they approached their friends. James had set his wand in a jar of some sort on the ground and was brandishing an axe. "What is that?" Remus asked, pointing at what looked like lumpy blankets hidden in the shadows, just at the edge of the light from James' wand.

"Best not to ask," Peter said, unfolding his own blanket and setting it out on the ground a good twenty feet away from the goings-on.

Remus sighed and helped him straighten it out. He glanced over to his right, further around the curve of the lakeshore, where the four main house bonfires were set up. It was too dark to distinguish between anyone, wandlight casting shadows as people milled about, the cacophony of their conversations drifting in the light wind. A tiny orange ember flared, and was quickly extinguished, but he could smell the faintest hint of tobacco and longed for a fag to calm his nerves despite the fact that he didn't smoke.

A loud thunk brought his attention back to the proceedings on this side of the lake as James swung the axe into one of the tree trunks. There was a muffled exclamation, and James stepped back, rubbing his arm, the axe firmly embedded in the wood.

Remus shook his head and sat down, Peter beside him, and leant back on his elbows. "So what do you think?" he asked Peter.

"I think they should be committed to St. Mungo's before anyone loses a limb. Does Skel-o-Grow work on accidental amputations?"

"And here I was thinking we'd only have to worry whether or not our modified bubble head charms would be impervious to an explosion," Remus said. They sat companionably for a while, watching Sirius drag and sort the branches, many of which still bore stubbornly clinging leaves, into multiple piles while James continued his misadventures with the axe.

"Are you two just going to sit there, or are you going to help?" Sirius called.

Remus and Peter exchanged a look. "Well," Peter said, "They haven't ignited anything yet. Should be safe for now. Maybe," he added, eyeing the axe as James swung it over his shoulder yet again.

"Run at the first sign of trouble?" Remus asked offering Peter his hand. There was Gryffindor bravery, and then there was common sense. Cowardice had nothing to do with it.

Peter nodded and shook Remus' hand, sealing their bargain as they reluctantly joined Sirius and James, Peter drawing his wand and casting "Lumos" in an effort to be helpful, though Remus was sure it was more to have his wand at the ready, just in case.

Sirius was surveying his handiwork with a frown. "Think we have enough wood?"

Remus glanced over his shoulder where James was beckoning to Peter, a look of desperation on his face. As Peter drew beside him, he turned to look at Sirius who was standing with his back to them, and made a shushing gesture to Remus. Peter raised his wand, and the uncut tree trunks transformed into a pile of neatly cut logs.

He turned back to Sirius, hiding his grin. "I think there's an entire hoard of Bowtruckles, Clabberts and Wood Gnomes currently homeless and plotting your demise."

"They'd have to catch me first."

Remus shook his head. "So when did you two go on this deforestation expedition? And don't tell me you dragged all of this here the Muggle way."

Sirius looked sheepish for a brief moment. "We've been going off during our free classes all week, and again this morning after my very special birthday breakfast," he said with a wicked grin. "And no, James wouldn't let me."

"Smart boy," Remus murmured, glancing back at James and Peter, who were bent over, ostensibly building what looked to be a log cabin, or possibly a log tower to rival Gryffindor's.

Sirius had obviously seen as well. "What the hell are you doing?"

"Building the foundation," James said, balancing a new log on the rickety structure.

"That's the stupidest thing I've ever seen. If you breathe on it wrong, it'll collapse."

"Don't worry, we're using Sticking Charms," Peter said as he added a new log.

"No magic!" Sirius said. "Muggles don't use Sticking Charms to build things! And who builds a square bonfire?"

"We'll pile the branches and stuff around it in a cone shape," James said. "Trust me, it'll work. Just like a floo."

Sirius grumbled, digging the ball of his foot into the dirt and swiveling his ankle. "Fine. But no Sticking Charms."

"If we don't use them, then it will collapse."

"Then build it the right way," Sirius said, and turned back to Remus while James threw up his hands and gestured rudely behind Sirius' back.

"I saw that," Sirius said.

"Did not. Stubborn arse." James stuck out his tongue and turned back to Peter.

"Saw that, too! I'm not stubborn, I'm . . . tenacious. Yeah. Tenacious."

"Completely mad is more like it," Remus said, drawing his wand and pointing it at the nearest pile of branches. "But it's your birthday."

"If Muggles can do this, we can do it too. I don't see what's so difficult about it."

"Have you ever done it the Muggle way before?"

"'Course I have."

"When?" Remus asked, levitating a few branches.

"Put them down!" Sirius said. "No magic, remember?"

"You're not serious, are you? Those branches weigh a ton," Remus said, exasperated as he dropped them back onto the ground. "You don't expect me to drag them all the way over there, do you?"

"You could do with a little more muscle. You're getting a bit scrawny."

"Scrawny? You weren't complaining about my scrawny body this morning," Remus retorted. "In fact, I think you rather liked my scrawny arms and legs when they were wrapped around your—"

"Oi!" James interrupted. "Keep your scrawny-limbed sex lives to yourselves! You're traumatizing poor Wormy. And I don't want to know about it either," he added.

Remus crossed his arms. "I'm not dragging these, so either I use magic, or you do it yourself."

James chuckled. "That's not the only thing he'll be doing by himself."

Sirius threw a leafy twig at James, but it fell far short of his target. "Bastard. Don't give him any ideas. And I thought talking about my sex life was too traumatizing for your poor virgin ears."

"It is," James said. "But that was too good to pass up."

By the time Remus and Sirius managed to levitate all of the piles of long branches closer to the budding structure, James and Peter's log tower was about four feet square, and fifteen feet high.

"Right," James said, chewing at a splinter lodged in his palm, "now we just lean all of the branches again the tower and we're set."

"But—"

"Don't worry, Peter," James said, cutting off his protest. "I know what I'm doing."

Peter gestured helplessly and looked at Remus, who shrugged and shook his head. Remus couldn't help noticing that Peter was backing slowly away from the tower, and he sighed in resignation as James and Sirius each lifted a large branch.

...o.o...

"It was a stupid idea," Sirius said, waving his arms.

"You were the one who told us not to use Sticking Charms!" James replied, fists balled as he stepped closer to Sirius. "Building a fire the Muggle way is the stupid idea!"

Remus and Peter had retreated to the safety of Peter's blanket, and Remus offered Peter a piece of Sirius' birthday toffee.

"Thanks," Peter said, taking a bite and chewing. He glanced longingly across the lake where two of the bonfires were just starting to spark.

"I know," Remus said, and took a bite of his own piece. "Still, I'd feel bad if we just abandoned them completely."

"Why's he always so obsessed with Muggle things?" Peter asked. "He doesn't make you, you know, does he?"

"Make me what?"

"You know," Peter said, lowering his voice to a whisper, "have sex the Muggle way, too."

Remus laughed, not quite sure what the difference would be. Then again, he thought, there was that time with the creative use of levitation charms, and the various binding charms, and of course cleaning charms. "You don't really want me to answer that, do you?"

...o.o...

"Fine," Sirius said twenty minutes later, four bonfires burning brightly in house colours to loud cheers on the other side of the lake. "We can build your stupid tower with magic, but that's it!" He glared at the three of them, but they hid their grins. Remus offered his wand to James, and the two of them set to rebuilding their collapsed tower.

This time James listened to Peter as well, and they made sure to stuff plenty of kindling inside and around it.

"Don't sulk," Remus said, coming up behind Sirius and putting his arms around his waist.

"M'not sulking," Sirius said, his body stiff, arms crossed.

Remus kissed the tip of his ear. "You are definitely sulking, and boys who sulk on their birthday don't get any presents."

"Already got my presents this morning," Sirius said, his voice catching on the last syllable as Remus bit down gently on his earlobe.

"Not all of them," Remus said, pressing his hips against Sirius' arse. "Now be a good boy and help your friends build your bonfire."

"What about you," Sirius asked, turning his head and stealing a kiss. "You just going to stand there and—Hey!" He bypassed a second kiss and stuck his tongue directly into Remus' mouth. "You taste like treacle! My treacle toffee!"

"Peter and I got bored while you and James were beating the piss out of each other."

"Wormy ate some too? Moony!"

Remus stuck his hand in his pocket and pulled out a slightly linty piece of toffee, shoving it in Sirius' mouth. He leant in and kissed him, licking Sirius' lips, but before he could get any further, Sirius pulled himself free.

"You're not getting any more of my toffee," Sirius said, though it sounded more like gibberish, since his teeth were stuck together.

Remus laughed and pushed him towards James. "Greedy bastard."

...o.o...

Remus, Peter, and James stood huddled under a conjured umbrella, shivering in the light rain that had started to fall a few minutes earlier. Sirius was on his knees in front of the huge, misshapen cone that used to be a small forest, fumbling with a box of Muggle kitchen matches.

"You can't just light the wood like that, you idiot," James said, heedless of the fact that not two minutes ago, he'd been kneeling beside Sirius, and had run through his own box of matches, the burnt remains of which lay scattered on the ground.

Sirius turned around and gave them a look of disgust. "You're not helping," he said, and yelped, dropping the burning match he'd been holding between his fingers, and sucking them into his mouth.

"Oh, I think he's being very helpful," Remus said, brandishing his wand.

"Put that away!" Sirius said, lighting another match and sticking his arm into the small crevice they'd left in the outer husk of the cone, in yet another attempt to light the kindling inside. "It's almost caught now," he said. "Look! It's smoking!"

It was indeed smoking, white-gray clouds billowing through the small hole and enveloping Sirius like fog on the moors, but there was no sign of flames. A faint wisp escaped from the crown of the structure twenty or more feet above, and dissipated quickly in the wind which had picked up in the last hour.

Their fellow classmates were whooping it up across the way, their fires burning a fierce red, blue, yellow and green. At least someone was having fun. Remus sighed and glanced at his watch; the fireworks should start any minute now.

"Just give it up already," Remus said, leaving the confines of the umbrella and walking over to Sirius. "Come on. Just a quick Incendio and nobody has to know you're a complete and utter failure. Well, nobody except us."

"Right," James agreed. "And the fact that we'll never let you live it down shouldn't have any bearing on—Ouch!" James yelped, as gray smoke wafted from between the fastenings of his cloak right in his crotch region. He ripped open his cloak, stuck his wand down his pants and fairly shrieked "Aguamenti!"

Peter doubled over and fell to his knees, clutching his stomach, while Remus tried very hard not to laugh and took several steps back, digging his fingernails into his palms as a distraction.

"You bastard! You nearly burnt my knob off!" James had tugged his trousers down around his knees and was hopping around, peeking inside the waistband of his pants to check for damage.

"Pffft," Sirius said, tossing his head back. "I just singed your pubic hair a bit. Don't be so dramatic."

"A bit? A bit? Does this look like a bit to you?" James yelled, pulling his pants down around his thighs. Remus gaped, and Peter was rolling around, making noises that sounded like he was breathing through a balloon.

Singed was putting it mildly. James' knob was swinging in the breeze, looking forlorn and lonely without any shrubbery in which to hide. His public hair had completely vanished.

Sirius burst out laughing, and Remus choked, nearly biting his tongue. Before he lost it completely, he turned and bolted, not wanting to witness James' retaliation, and already mourning the potentially permanent loss of his once happy and thriving sex life. His foot kicked something hard in the dark, resounding with a loud, metallic clank. He tripped, flying arse over tit, and crashed hard into the ground face first.

"Moony?" Sirius and James both called barely a second apart. "You okay?" Sirius added.

He opened his eyes and tried to breathe, which was difficult considering his face was pressed flat into the mud of the lakeshore, and it hurt like hell. He shut his eyes, clenched his fingers into the ground, steeled himself, and managed to roll himself over, gasping and groaning in turns, tasting both dirt and the blood he could feel trickling over his cheek and chin. Shit!

He sensed light above him and cracked open his eyes to find Peter peering down at him.

"Wow! Not to alarm you or anything, but your nose is pretty much on the side of your face right now."

Remus groaned again and closed his eyes, his fingers twitching with both the desire to cover his face, and the fear of what he would find if he did so.

"Whoa, Moony!" James said. "Nice look on you."

Remus cracked his eyes open again and glared at James. "Says de bad whose cock looks like a plucked goose," he said, unable to enunciate his words properly due to his temporarily rearranged anatomy. "Cold, Progs?"

James blushed and pulled up his pants and trousers. "Keep on like that and I'll let your nose stay that way," he said. He shook his head and pointed his wand at Remus' face. Remus closed his eyes and held his breath as James said, "Episkey."

Remus wrinkled his nose. It was still sore, but not too painful, and it seemed to be back in its proper location. "Where's Padfoot? Am I doomed to a life of celibacy?"

"I could only wish," James said as a big black dog pounced on Remus and licked his face.

"Are you mad?" Remus exclaimed, trying to push twelve stone of damp dog off his chest. "Someone could see, you daft bastard. And quit licking me. Your breath is terrible. I'm not kissing you again until you clean your teeth and gargle with an entire bottle of mouthwash."

There was a sound akin to a whoosh of air, and suddenly Sirius was back, sitting on Remus' chest. "You are absolutely brilliant. I could kiss you right now!"

"I'm fine, thanks. And don't even think about it. I meant what I said about the mouthwash. Er, why am I brilliant?"

"I'd completely forgotten about my backup plan!" Ignoring Remus' attempts to dislodge him, as well as his ultimatum, he leant down and gave him a loud, wet smooch on the lips. "Come on!" he said, scrambling to his feet and reaching out to pull Remus up to his. "Operation Muggle Bonfire is back on!" He ruffled Remus' hair and turned, grabbing James with one hand and picking something up off the ground with the other, and bounded back towards the botched bonfire, his gait more dog-like than human.

Remus looked at Peter, who shrugged.

"Don't look at me. Nobody tells me anything. What did you trip over?" he asked.

"No idea," Remus replied, feeling his nose for the first time and glad it was where it was supposed to be. "Ah well, it could have been worse. I could have had my pubic hair burnt off." He shrugged and brushed at the front of his robes, which were covered in caked dirt, blood, and grass, but thankfully not torn. "Come on. We'd better see what those two idiots are up to. I don't like the way they're practically howling with glee over there."

They hurried back toward the tower of doom where James and Sirius were dancing around like a couple of first years. He wrinkled his nose again, though this time not because of his recent injury, his steps slowing. Sirius had the box of matches in one hand, and a single unlit match in the other.

"Hey, Wormtail, do you smell—"

"I am the God of All Bonfires!" Sirius cried, and lit the match, just as the boom and crackle of fireworks rent the air, and a light brighter than the sun flared with a loud whoosh a few yards from Remus' face.

...o.o...

"Petrol?" Remus exclaimed from his hospital bed, his body stiff and wrapped in thick white bandages. "Petrol? What kind of idiotic jackass are you? Did you completely lose your mind? No, wait, don't answer that. It was rhetorical."

"But did you see it, Moony? It was the biggest, best bonfire ever, wasn't it?" Sirius said from the bed next to him, and his voice sounded dreamy. Madam Pomfrey had probably dosed him too much potion. "I don't even care that all my toffee melted before I got to eat it."

"I was so wrong," Peter croaked from the bed on the other side of Remus. "This is definitely worse than last year."

"Yeah," James said triumphantly from the bed on the far side of Sirius. "But now none of you have any pubic hair either."