Playful

At Sirius's "AHA!", he figured that he should've run when he'd had the chance.

It was all too good to be true. Prongs and Padfoot had been relatively quiet over the last few days (getting only ten detentions each; a massive improvement), and Remus had pleaded with almost every mighty wizard in the universe that it would stay that way. Apparently, the mighty wizards had been too busy playing Turn The Wand to listen to him.

'It's brilliant!' said James, grinning broadly.

Remus was slowly inching towards the door, almost betraying himself when he fell over Peter's open trunk (why it was lying in the middle of the dorm, no one could really tell; Pete was in the Hospital Wing). However, he managed to keep himself up right, and passed James's bed, which meant the door wasn't far off. He drew in a breath as he neared the door, and allowed himself a smile when his hand grabbed hold of the doorknob.

'Moony, mate! Old pal, you simply must join us!' said Sirius.

Remus let out a frustrated sound, muttered something that sounded like "nearly" (or "knickers", Sirius contemplated), and turned around to face them, crossing his arms over his chest.

'No.'

James looked put out. 'But we haven't even –'

'- No.'

'Moooooony,' Sirius whined.

'No.'

'Oh, come on, don't be such a spoilsport –' said James.

'- I'll light your Potions essay on fire,' Sirius interrupted.

Remus looked appalled at the mere idea of someone wanting to light an essay on fire. More importantly, his essay. More importantly, his Potions essay. You see, Remus was rather hopeless with Potions, and said essay had taken him two days, one whole box of Honeydukes chocolate, and fourteen trips to the Hogwarts library to complete. Needless to say, he'd rather keep it in one piece.

Sirius knew of his weakness in the subject, of course; Remus could expect a prank of epic proportions mocking his failing at least once a year. Third year had included a potion which resulted in something Remus and Sirius both still avoided talking about, and James always claimed he'd rather not know, thanks very much.

'Moony, either you're in, or the essay you've hidden in Pete's sock drawer - ('Bugger,' Remus muttered under his breath) - will suffer a most painful death.'

And to prove he did, in fact, mean it, Sirius summoned the essay and held it up for Remus to see.

'Padfoot,' Remus said, 'put the Moony essay down.'

Sirius's smirk only widened.

'Bugger,' Remus whispered, again, a bit more vehemently.

'Well?' Sirius prompted.

'Fine. But I want to make it quite clear that I hate you. Very much.'

Somehow, Remus had the feeling that this was even a worse idea than he had first thought it to be as Sirius bounced off the bed and pocketed Remus's essay.

'Noted, Moony,' said James, and sat aside so he could join them.

Minerva McGonagall let go of the books she'd brought with her to dinner. They fell onto the floor with a loud "thump". No one seemed to notice. She glanced sideways, her mouth hanging open in slight shock.

'But –' she started, her eyes wide.

'Indeed,' came the calm reply from the man in a most extraordinarily yellow cloak standing next to her.

'It's –'

There was a small pause, in which Professor McGonagall seemed to notice her open mouth. She closed it abruptly, the slightest hint of red staining her cheeks.

'– pink,' she then finished, gesturing at the large house banners, sparkling in shades of pink (the Gryffindor lion had unsuccessfully tried to hide behind the equally pink "G"); the students; the floating candles. Even the Staff Table had been affected. The man in the yellow cloak only smiled serenely at the sight. She looked at him incredulously.

'I think it's a perfect way to celebrate my 100th birthday, Minerva,' said Albus Dumbledore, his blue eyes twinkling behind his glasses.

Sirius Black and James Potter spent the following three weeks scrubbing bedpans.

Remus Lupin joined them after a week or so.