Disclaimer: Harry Potter isn't mine. PanAm isn't mine. Hollywood isn't mine.
A/N: This was incredibly fun to write; I just adore doing the half-affectionate, sniping dialogue between these two. This is a chapter or part of a chapter from the prequel to 'Shades of the Past' that I'm planning, probably from late in the story.
Peter rubbed a smudge off the blade of his dagger, and tucked it in his truck. He smiled nostalgically; it had been the first thing he'd bought with his first ever paycheck, and it had saved his life more than once. The handle was worn to the shape of his hand, from frequent use, and had a few dark stains near the hilt, whose origins were better left unquestioned. No, he certainly was not going to leave this behind.
He turned back to the pile of things still unsorted on his bed, and picked up his ceremonial Auror's robes. Heavy black velvet, there was no way he would ever be able to fit them in his trunk; they were magic proof, so he couldn't shrink them, and he wouldn't them where he was going anyway. He set them on the pile of things he wasn't going to take with him, and turned to the next item, his self-refilling flask.
"Peter, what do you think you're doing?"
He looked up briefly, and then returned to examining the flask. "I'm packing, Severus. Surely a brilliant mind like yours can decipher the meaning of an open trunk half-filled with my possessions." He paused, as if a thought had just struck him. "Or have the blows to your head finally scrambled your brains like so many eggs?"
Severus leant against the door post. "Actually, Ratboy, what I meant was 'why are you only packing half your things?' You could get another trunk, you know. Or are all ex-Gryffindors required to do the things the hard way?"
"I bow down before your infinite wisdom, O fearless leader." Peter said, his words drenched in acid. "There is, in fact, a reason I am only packing one trunk."
"And that would be..."
"Coach Class passengers on PanAm flights are only allowed one piece of luggage." Peter held up his ceremonial robes. "Do you want these? They won't fit."
Severus looked at them in disdain. "You're right, they won't fit. In fact, they're at least five inches too short."
Peter turned and glared at him. "That's not what I meant, and you know it. You tall bastards are all so smug."
"Well, it's not my fault you wouldn't eat your greens when you were younger. Now what's this you said about a PanAm flight? Where are you going, and why haven't you mentioned it before?"
Peter flashed him a quick grin. "I'm going to America to seek my fortune. They say the streets are paved with gold, you know." He looked at Severus very seriously for all of five seconds, and then cracked up.
"No, really. Where are you going?"
"Hollywood, where the sidewalks are paved with stars. One of them is going to have my name on it someday." He smiled, and his gaze was fixed on something Severus couldn't see.
Severus raised an eyebrow skeptically. "I'll believe it when I see it."
"O ye of little faith. When I win my first Oscar, you'll be right there in the front row of seats, bragging about how you knew me before I was famous. I'll make sure you're there."
"And where is our esteemed lupine colleague going to be during all this?"
"In the seat next to you, denying that anything you say is true, and generally giving you hell on my behalf." Peter smiled at him. "Unless, of course, you admit here and now that you're wrong, and that I will be famous."
Severus smirked. "Yeah, you'll be famous. As the rat from the Wind in the Willows."
"Why you-" Peter looked wildly around, snatched up a boot and hurled it at Severus' head.
Severus caught it easily, and tossed it onto the foot of the bed. "Close, Ratty, but no cigar."
Peter laughed. "You're impossible, you know that? Absolutely impossible. You know, I might actually miss you, and isn't that a scary thought?"
Severus gave him a very evil smirk. "Oh, but you won't have time to miss me. I'm going with you."
"What? WHY?"
"Because whether you make it as a star or not, it's going to be a hell of a thing to watch. Besides, do you have any idea how much money I could make selling glamour potions to aspiring film stars?"
Peter gave him a lopsided smile. "There's always a little part of your mind thinking about money, isn't there, Severus?"
"Everybody's got a part of their mind like that. My mind's always on money, Black's is always on getting laid, and yours is always on cheese. It's just the way we're wired." Severus smiled at him, the very picture of innocence.
"Yeah, I guess- Wait, cheese? Oh you-" And they were off again.