A/N: So I thought about doing the "First Times," but I decided to just do a series of one-shots like I am with Soul Eater. This is from the Marauders' Era, and I'll have 'shots from James, Sirius, Remus, Peter, Lily, Marlene, pretty much anyone and everyone. I can take requests, if y'all want, just drop it in a review. Speaking of reviews, I don't really mind if you review or not, but it is appreciated. They let me know how I'm doing, so y'know c:

Also, this is rated T, because there will be language and sexual innuendos. Because Sirius. And James. But mostly Sirius. Yeah. Enjoy! :3

CHARACTER: James Potter

YEAR: 1973

PLACE: Transfiguration Class, Hogwarts

WORDS: 861

Anything You Can Do

Professor McGonagall is doing this to him on purpose. Normally, he'd be paired with Sirius. But, no, she is sticking him with greasy-haired Severus Snape—a.k.a. "Snivellus." He is still in his seat when Snivellus stands in front of him. Reluctantly, he gets up from his seat, gripping his wand tightly in his right hand.

"Your grades will greatly suffer if anyone misbehaves and doesn't take this task seriously. You will also receive a detention and have your Hogsmeade privileges revoked. This is a partner project. By the end of this lesson, I expect your box to look nothing at all like a box. Am I understood?"

James silently swears. Snape's face is blank of emotion. James wants to Scourgify his head. The class gives a unanimous, "Yes, professor."

"These are not difficult spells. I am well prepared to take care of anything that may go wrong, but please keep your focus on the box. If anyone ends up with a transformation of any kind on their person, the pair responsible will face the aforementioned punishments.

"Now, will one person from each pair come and get a box?"

After a few silent seconds in which James stubbornly stands next to his desk, eyes trained on Snape's, Snape goes to the front of the class for their box. When he comes back, he sets the box on the desk and says, "I don't like this any more than you do, but I'm not going to fail because of you. I can do the work and put your name on it, okay?"

"No way, I'm better than you!"

Snape's face takes on a tinge of pink. "I'm sure we're all aware how much better the great James Potter is than anyone else, but—"

"I meant at Transfiguration," James interrupts with a wave of his hand. "But, yeah, I am, thanks for finally noticing."

"I—"

"Let's make it red."

"What? No! It should be green, at least!"

"Why?"

Before James could get an answer, Snape had turned the box a dark emerald with a tap of his wand. James' mouth drops open. "Hey! We're supposed to agree on stuff!"

"We're not going to agree on anything," Snape says, crossing his arms with a smirk.

James shoots him an arrogant smirk of his own. "Oh, yes, we are," he says. He taps the box with his wand, and the color changes to a deep scarlet.

Snape frowns and taps the box again.

James' smirk remains as he taps the box in turn.

The two go on like this for a full two minutes. Finally, the box ends up half Slytherin green and half Gryffindor red.

"That is the dumbest looking box I have ever seen in my life."

"You mean besides your house?"

"You've never seen my house."

"I can imagine it quite clearly, considering your awful wardrobe."

"Potter—"

"Anyway, I love Christmas, so let's keep it this way. I can stand a hideous green if it's against a nice red."

"Christmas is a terrible holiday."

"I disagree."

"Of course, you do."

James taps the box again, and the edges of their box string themselves into a brightly glowing Christmas lights. "Fairy lights would look better, but I don't think I can do those."

"You mean there's something you can't do? I'm shocked," Snape deadpans, arms crossed tightly over his chest. "Take them off, that looks tacky."

"Not nearly as tacky as your clothes."

"You've already mentioned them."

"They're bad enough to mention more than once. If you repeat something often enough, it gets through thick skulls like yours." Snape scoffs. As an afterthought, James adds, "Then again, yours must be pretty thin. All that grease on top of your head must seep in and disfigure your brain."

"Merlin, Potter, you insufferable—"

"Mr. Potter, Mr. Snape. Your classmates no longer have boxes. You do. Get to work or I will dock points from your houses."

"Professor! Gryffindor! We're in the lead!"

"By ten points. I have no qualms about taking that away. Now, get to work."

"Yes, professor," the two chorus. They glare at each other. Professor McGonagall looks to the ceiling and walks away, no doubt regretting her decision.

Snape taps the box. "There, now it's a circle."

"A very bright circle," James observes, bringing his face right up close to it. It's his turn to tap it. It melts. His back snaps straight. "Oops."

Snape's head falls into his hands. "I'm doomed."

The two do their best to make their once-box take its original shape, but they are unsuccessful. By the end of the lesson, when Professor McGonagall is walking around and handing out grades pair-by-pair, Snape's face is void of all emotion. James is uncharacteristically distressed.

"Impressive," Professor McGonagall says when she reaches their table. The pair stares up at her with identical expressions of shock. "I told you to get rid of its box shape, and you did. Not in the way I meant, of course, but you did what I asked." She eyes them both. "You actually cooperated. Top grades today for both of you."

James' mouth goes slack. Across the room, Sirius roars with laughter.