Loud retching sounds echoed from the boys bathroom, followed by a horrible splattering noise. James Potter opened his eyes and gazed blearily at the ceiling, wondering vaguely why the air smelt like fresh vomit. Deciding it wasn't worth bothering about, he let his eyelids flutter closed once more.

A long, heartfelt groan sent his eyes shooting open again. Annoyed, he croaked out: "Shut up, whoever you are!" Sensing the haze of tiredness starting to peel away and feeling thoroughly pissed off about it, James pulled the duvet over his throbbing head, willing himself to go back to sleep.

A loud thump from the bathroom made the floor vibrate slightly. Moaning with frustration, James threw the cover away from his head and shouted: "For God's sake, can't you chuck up somewhere else? I'm trying to SLEEP!"

"STOP SHOUTING, JAMES!" A pillow came sailing through the air, catching him on the stomach and bouncing on to the floor. As both hands were currently clutching his forehead, trying to crush the agony out of his skull, James was quite unable to throw anything back. Instead, he said, "Shut up yourself, Moony."

A growl resonated through the air, but apart from that, no response was heard.

Footsteps crashed across the floor, pounding in James's head. A tousle headed Peter shuffled into bleary view, and he was gazing nervously through the bathroom door.

"James." A dry throated whisper was all that remained of Peter's voice. He cleared his throat and tried again. "James!"

"What, for crap's sake!"

"I think Sirius has passed out in the bathroom."

"Good. Leave him there."

"But he's lying in a puddle of sick…"

James lay in silence for a moment, forcing this new piece of information around his aching head. Then, with a final disgruntled, "For crying out loud…" he wriggled around, dragging his feet to the floor, and eventually forced himself to stumble across the floor toward Peter. He slumped against the bathroom doorframe, and peered inside with scrunched up, bleary eyes.

The bitter smell of vomit made him turn his head away in disgust, but there was no mistaking the sharp, handsome profile of his best friend, surrounded by lank strings of dark hair. Hair which, at that moment, was soaked in bile…trying not to heave, James watched as more sick bubbled out of Sirius' mouth, and the muscular chest start choking repeatedly.

"Shit." Realising this wasn't good news; James ran headlong into the bathroom, collapsing next to a toilet and, disregarding the sick, heaved Sirius painfully onto his side in order to give his back a stinging slap.

Sirius stopped choking, which was good. On the other hand, he may well have stopped breathing, which wasn't so good.

Smeared up to his elbows in vomit, with a pounding headache and his best friend lying immobile before him, James tilted his head back and snarled out his frustration. "Peter, for God's sake man, get in here and vanish this stuff!"

Peter crept tentatively into the room, clutching his wand and wrinkling up his nose. "Yeuch! You're covered in it!"

"Oh really? How odd, I never noticed," snapped James. "Now just vanish it."

Looking slightly apprehensive, Peter pointed his wand at the revolting mess of the floor, and muttered something inaudible.

The vomit turned a pale and rather attractive shade of pink. James clenched his teeth together, wondering A) why Peter could never perform the simplest of spells, and B) why he had just thought pink sick looked attractive.

"Oh! Sorry!" Peter fumbled with his wand. "I – er – Evanesco!"

There was a blinding flash of light. Dreading the worst, James peeled open his eyes, and looked around. The sick was gone. It was even gone from his hands. Even the smell was gone. Smiling, surprised but pleased, he stood up and clapped Peter on the shoulder. "Good, Pete. Always knew you could do it."

At the same moment, Sirius stirred on the floor. A small grin stretched his features. "Hell of a night last night, wasn't it?"

At around the same time, a high pitched, decidedly feminine scream filtered through the bathroom doorway. "WHY THE HELL IS THERE PINK SICK ON MY DUVET?"

James looked at Peter, who shrugged slightly. "Ooops."

A snarling, pink-smeared Remus appeared in the doorway, baring his teeth at him. "Ooops indeed," he whispered, eyes flashing threateningly.

As Remus chased a hysterically screaming Peter around the room, James clutched his head once more and hauled Sirius to his feet. "Back to bed," he said firmly, and pushed him through the doorway.

"No Prongs," mumbled Sirius, as he staggered along before him. "For the last time, I will not go to bed with you."

"You know you wan' me really."

"Yes, but…" Sirius fell silent, his brow scrunched as he tried to think of an appropriately witty come back to shoot James down in flames with. "…you smell."

James groaned, then gave him a hefty shove in the direction of his bed. Sirius fell just short and collapsed in a crumpled heap of arms and legs on the floor.

"Oh. Bugger."

"You can stay there, then," mumbled James, making to climb into his own bed, but Sirius reached out and grabbed his ankle, causing him to sway, then thunder to the floor as well.

"Don't see why I should be down here an' not you," muttered Sirius, his eyes already closing.

"Arsehole."

"Damn proud."

Snores filled the air about ten seconds later, as two Marauders continued to sleep off their remarkably, horrendously, hideously painful hangover.

0o0

Well, I had an itching to write a funny Marauder one shot thing…and plus, I have my Maths Non Calculator GCSE today, and I need something to take my mind off it, because if I think about it then I will start screaming like Peter with Remus chasing him. Maths isn't my best subject…

"Did it hurt…?" is coming along nicely, for those of you who read that. At the moment, it is four and a bit pages long! Which I think is a miracle considering how much revision I've been cramming in.

Well, must dash. I'm still in my PJ's as I write this, so I should probably go get dressed…

Love you all, and even more that that if you review!

Bubbles xxx