A.N. I am not J. K. Rowling. But I try, I try.
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Remus looked up in shock. He had seen Sirius in some pretty ridiculous get-ups, but he would not stand for this. Remus was going to put his foot down.
Sirius held up his new purchase and showed it off. "You like?" he asked coyly.
Remus glared. "Sirius," he growled, "get rid of it."
"But angel cake, it's so useful."
"Useful for what?"
"It holds all my things so nicely."
Remus placed his head in his hands, Sirius could be very ridiculous about some things. "Sirius, I will not allow myself to be seen in public with someone carrying a man-bag."
"Well then," Sirius huffed, "I'll bring it with me when I'm alone."
Remus sighed, "Let me rephrase that, I will not let you embarrass your self by carrying a man-bag."
"But Remmie-poo, it's not a man-bag, it's a murse."
Remus could have screamed, "That's even worse!"
Sirius giggled into his hands, "You made a rhyme."
Remus could have killed him right then.
"Anyway, I don't care what you say, I'm keeping it."
"But Sirius," Remus pleaded, "You may be gay, but your not a poufter."
Now it was Sirius' turn to be confused. "But Remmie, aren't they the same thing?"
Remus had to think. In his mind, there was indeed a difference between just being gay and being a bloody murse-sporting poufter. It was explaining this to Sirius which would be difficult.
So instead, he tried a different tact.
"You owe me," he claimed.
"For what?"
"I let you keep that ridiculous mustache."
"And I thank you for it."
"Now burn that thing."
"No," Sirius whined, "I paid 30 Galleons for this bag. I will not use it as Floo fuel."
"Then return it."
"But it's all the way in London. Maybe I'll do it later."
"Next week."
"I promise."
"OK."
v v v v v v v v v
It is now twelve years later, and Remus still sees that bag in his closet every morning when he gets dressed.
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