Inspired by a tumblr post discussing whether names with an S at the end are plural. I just can't seem to resist wriitng about the Marauders being dorks.


"Hey guys?"

There was a chorus of sleepy groans; the peace of the Gryffindor fourth-year dormitory had been broken yet again as Sirius failed to go to sleep, despite previous negotiations that a majority vote that it was bedtime meant everyone shutting up.

"No, guys, really, I just thought of something."

"Can't it wait till tomorrow?" James scowled short-sightedly across the room in the direction of his best friend.

"I might have forgotten by then! Anyway, I just thought, why does your name have an s at the end?"

"…What?"

"Your name! It's got an s at the end. Does that make it plural? So there should really be more than one of you?"

"Please tell me you are not seriously trying to have this conversation now."

"We did sort of vote on going to bed," Peter put in, throwing support towards James hopefully.

"But this is really, really bugging me," Sirius complained.

"For the love of Merlin, go to sleep, Sirius," James groaned, but his word went unheeded over the whirring of his friend's brain.

"I wonder how many James there'd have to be…"

Giving up, Peter rolled over and covered his head with his pillow. From the depths of the last bed, however, came an extremely cranky voice, thick with the Welsh lilt that usually characterised it when its owner was distracted.

"Sirius, if you promise to shut up now, I promise I'll go down to the library tomorrow and spend my Saturday figuring out the answer. On the other hand, if you don't shut up and let me get some sleep, I'm going to hold your pillow over your face till you are really, really sorry."

"Not to mention," James pointed out, "Sirius and Remus are both spelled with an s at the end too. So think about that - quietly."

There was silence for a couple of minutes. Then Sirius rolled over and sat up again.

"But imagine if there was more than one of me, too -"

Three pillows, all hurled with pinpoint accuracy even in the pitch dark of the dorm, hit him squarely in the head.

Recognising the signs of three tempers strained to breaking point, he pulled the curtains on his bed shut with a huffy sort of dignity and lay down without bothering to give the pillows back.

There wasn't another sound for the rest of the night.