Disclaimer: Not JKR. Bugger.
A/N: Ah, hello my little pamplemooses... Contrary to popular belief, I am not dead. Surprise! So, just to prove it, I've written a new fic. Haha. Enjoy!
It had seemed like a perfectly normal day, at first. Lily Evans had opened her eyes wearily when she woke up, as she always did. She brushed her teeth twice over, with two different kinds of toothpaste, as she always did. She had strolled casually down to the Great Hall in a good mood, smelling the appetite-whetting aromas of freshly cooked breakfasts, as she always did. But as soon as she stepped through the main doors, in search of her breakfast, she knew something was wrong.
James-effing-Potter.
Of course. What else would it be.
Today, he was sitting in a fluorescent pink shirt, with what looked like a dozen red roses in hand – and the flowers, too, were glowing the strange iridescent pink that was covering James' torso. This in itself, of course, was not particularly unusual - Potter was constantly involved in some sort of juvenile prank war, and was forever getting profanities burned into his forehead, or getting his wand replaced with a trick wand that sprouted daisies whenever he tried to cast a spell. What was unusual (as well as highly disturbing) was the fact that James was steadily packing what looked like cottage cheese into his right nostril. It had swelled to at least triple its original size with the force of the amount of cheese he had shoved in there, and he was grinning stupidly as he reached down into a container sitting in front of him and grabbed a fistful to add to the burgeoning lump in his nose. Potter's stupid posse – consisting of the similarly idiotic Sirius Black and the completely brain-dead Peter Pettigrew – were cheering him on unabashedly, while the fourth and final member of the group, Remus Lupin, was sitting on the opposite side of the table to the other three, an incredulous look across his face. Remus caught Lily's eye and smiled sourly before covering his face with his hands.
"I don't know these people," he said, and Lily patted his head sympathetically. She leaned down conspiratorially.
"Just out of curiosity… what in God's name is James doing?"
"He's packing his right nostril with cottage cheese."
"Yes, I had noticed that, funnily enough," she said, whacking Remus' arm playfully, "Why, though? Wait," Lily said, a memory of a conversation about a week ago coming back to her. "This isn't about that stupid bet, is it?"
"Bingo."
"Why am I not finding myself surprised?" Lily said dryly. Remus looked at her and grinned.
"Prongs and Padfoot bet each other that they could put more cottage cheese up their noses than the other. The loser had to put the same amount of cottage cheese into their nose wearing an outfit of the other's choosing."
"Why do I associate with these people?"
"Precisely what I've been asking myself for the past half-hour."
Suddenly, James looked up from his tub of cottage cheese and gave an animalistic roar, grinning stupidly and beckoning for Lily to walk around to the other side of the table and sit in his lap. She blushed, embarrassed at the attention she was now getting from the hundred-plus people in the Great Hall, and hid her face in her hands. Remus prodded her arm for her to look up again, and when she did James had gone back to getting fistfuls of cottage cheese, apparently having forgotten completely about Lily.
"There's something wrong with him," Lily told Remus, and, accepting her fate, she stood up and walked around to the other side of the table, where she sat next to James after pushing Peter out of his seat.
"LILY!" James yelled joyfully, spraying cottage cheese everywhere. Lily made an unsavory face as she felt globs of snotty cheese hit her cheek.
"James, you'll get brain damage from doing that."
"I know, isn't it cool?"
"That's not exactly the word I'd use for it," she told him, nervously looking around, "but seriously though, snort out the cheese."
"But Lily, I lost a bet, and I have to uphold the traditions of Marauder-betting."
"If you keep packing your nose with cottage cheese, the bet's not the only thing you will have lost." Lily said sternly, giving him a meaningful look. James gulped and, pressing one finger firmly down on his left nostril, blew out forcefully. The entire contents of his right nostril emptied out onto the table in front of him, leaving three second years, who had been eating breakfast opposite him, very green in the face. Lily apologized profusely to the three second years before turning back to James and giving a start. He was now eating the remaining cottage cheese in the cardboard tub.
"Padfoot obviously has a fantastic fashion sense." Lily said, smirking at James' glowing pink shirt.
"What? It's good!" James replied, grinning eagerly. "The electric pink really brings out the definition in my abs."
"Yeah, right," Lily muttered, and then gestured towards the container that James was still scooping handfuls of cottage cheese out of, though, admittedly, this time to eat. "James, that's disgusting."
"Well, there's no point in letting it go to waste. Here, want some?" James said, and pushed the container towards Lily's face. Acting reflexively, she grabbed the container in her right had and took a closer look at the label.
"What exactly is it that you're eating?" Lily asked James confusedly.
"Lils, I told you about a million times. Cottage cheese." James replied patronizingly.
"But this is a milk container." Lily said, showing him the label.
"Yeah. You're point being?"
"Cottage cheese doesn't come in a milk container."
"That makes sense," he conceded.
"So why are you eating cottage cheese from a milk container if you know that cottage cheese isn't native to a milk container."
"I don't know," James told her nonchalantly. "Didn't really think about it."
Lily sniffed the inside of the container and grimaced. Turning pale, she put the container as far in front of her as she could reach.
"James, I don't think that was cottage cheese you were eating."
"What else could it—" James paused. "No. That's not… I mean, it can't be…"
"James, I think that was milk! How on earth did you not notice the smell?"
"I've never had cottage cheese before!" James said loudly, his eyes wide.
"Well let me give you a clue!" Lily yelled at him. "Anything that smells like the most rancid thing on earth ISN'T EDIBLE!"
Lily looked around, and it was then that she noticed the absence of the other three Marauders.
"James, just out of curiosity," Lily continued quietly, "who gave you the carton?"
James thought for a moment, and his eyes widened once again.
"BLOODY PADFOOT!"
---
"We have to get him back for this," James said, lying in the hospital wing. He had been in there for the past two days, throwing up anything he ate (though Lily suspected that he was reveling in the attention – James stubbornly told anyone who listened that he no longer had any kidneys).
"Well, what do you suggest?" Lily asked him. She was actually starting to get interested in the idea of a little pay back – it was Sirius' fault that she had been stuck listening to James complain all day. It was starting to get to the point where she would willingly saw off her own ears.
"Embarrassment. We can't make him sick, it's too easy to trace back to us, but if we mess around with his mind a little bit…"
"Well, yeah," Lily agreed. "Sirius isn't really all that bright, it shouldn't be too tricky."
"Bah bah bah bah," James told her, wagging his finger at her. "Rule number one: never underestimate your opponent."
"What's rule number two?"
"Erm… well, actually there isn't a second rule."
"Oh."
"Hmm."
"Well, what do you suggest we start with, then?" Lily asked him pensively. A smirk spread across James' face and as he spoke it was obvious he was working to cover his elation.
"I get out of here tomorrow, I'll see you in Transfiguration. Just leave it to me,' he added, as way of explanation, and Lily was about to argue when she realized that she had no idea what she was doing, and shrugged.
"See you tomorrow." And with a quick kiss on the lips, Lily left the Hospital Wing.
James sat in his bed, grinning to himself. Madame Hartridge, the Infirmary nurse, came bustling out of her office, and catching sight of James' ridiculous grin, walked over to his bed.
"What're you so happy about?" she asked him. He looked up at her, still smiling wickedly.
"Tomorrow, the games begin."
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A/N: Please review, gorgeous pamplemooses, or I may be inclined to smash my computer into a million little bits with the butt of a .45 Colt. Thanks!