Disclaimer: I own nothing but the computer I typed this on. And the prank, and I suppose the wording.
"He's coming, he's coming!" a first year squealed. "Oh my gosh, he's coming!"
James looked at his best friend in disgust. "Please don't say she means him."
Sirius took a swig from his pumpkin juice, and replied gravely, "I'm afraid so. Did you see the way they were fawning over him on the train?"
James nearly gagged. "Merlin, that was disgusting. Don't they have ..." Anything else he might have said was lost in the collective sighs of every first and second year girls, and even some of the third years.
He had entered the great hall.
Eyes followed his fancy robes, his detestable smile, that abominable gleam in his shining eyes, and worst of all, that nauseatingly perfect slicked-back hair. He strutted towards the Gryffindor table, but halted in front of the Hufflepuffs, and flashed a first year what he obviously thought was a winning smile.
She fainted.
She bloody fainted.
And her friends simply giggled, making no move to pick her up.
He continued on, finally stopping at the other end of the table, in front of that cute redhead.
And he sat down.
"Why does he always sit with us?" Sirius wondered aloud. "Isn't he in Slytherin?"
"He's friends with that Muggleborn in your year, Lily," said a third year. "She's one lucky girl," she added wistfully.
As James struggled not to puke, Sirius answered, "But she's Muggleborn, and he's a Slytherin. Why isn't he shunned by the rest of his house?"
The third year spluttered. "Shun? Severus? He's gorgeous! No girl could bear it, and no guy would dare it!"
"So he's untouchable?" James asked.
"By a large group, yes," said Sirius, his mind whirring. "But, if a small group of guys decided to take matters into their own hands, they could, theoretically, find a week point, and prank it incessantly..."
James grinned. "I'm in."
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When James came to, he was so sore he could barely move. His neck and arms were bent at awkward angles, and his back and legs refused to move. What in Merlin's name happened? His thoughts were sluggish as he attempted to make sense of his foggy memories. Going over a list of qualities ... Deciding to turn someone's hair red ... Sneaking up behind the subject, who was complaining about potions ... The charm, cherry red hair, tons of guys laughing ... "Don't. Touch. The 'Do.'" "Exapelliarmous." Pain.
"James?" came Sirius' voice, muffled underneath him.
"Yeah?"
"I think we found his weak point." And in the darkness, James grinned.
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After James and Sirius finally escaped the broom closet (and explained, blushing furiously, to a passing sixth year exactly what they were doing in there in the first place), the pair ran to their dormitories to plan The Prank. The Prank led James and Sirius to the darkened Slytherin second year bathroom, where they quite easily found Snape's bucket of hair gel, and set to work. Sirius performed a permanent sticking charm into the gel, and James planted half-empty bottles of various kinds of glue in the trash.
"So," began Sirius, as they huddled under an invisibility cloak and hurried towards the Gryffindor common room, "how long do you think he'll devote his life potions, before he realizes that a simple 'finite incantatem' will get the grease out of his hair? My guess is a month."
"Sirius, as much as I hate to admit it, Snape isn't that stupid. My guess is a week, tops."