Disclaimer: It's JK Rowling's characters and world, I'm just playing with it. It's all hers, not mine.

Not Helping

"I just don't think this is the image I want to project on my first date," Remus frowned at the mirror.

It had been an epic mistake to ask the others for help. Thirteen year old boys were notoriously poor in the field of wooing thirteen year old girls. He knew, from his stiff pomaded hair down to his overly polished toes, that they were the absolute worst people to assist him in getting ready for his first date.

Sirius, who for some reason seemed to think he was the expert in all things hair related ("Just look at this mane!"), had molded Remus' hair into something reminiscent of one the horrible plastic styles of one of his mother's frightening doll collection. Peter had been in charge of gathering up ingredients for a cologne, a simple enough task one would think, but he'd come back with a variety of horrid smelling roots.

"Well, it says they smell better mixed together," he'd told them as he held his nose and dumped the contents of his little bag onto Sirius' bed.

"Don't put that there!" Sirius barked, immediately pushing the disgusting mess onto the floor.

"And you expect me to put that on to make myself more attractive, why exactly?" Remus pinched his nose.

"It'll be fine," James had assured him. Though putting on his dragon hide gloves to pick up the ingredients did little to add credence to his statement.

James had picked out the clothes, which, Remus admitted, weren't bad. In fact, each piece was, taken individually, actually not bad in his mind. It was the combination Remus was less than thrilled about.

The shoes were nice, just a touch too shiny, especially combined with the red plaid pants, and he was certain they were the same style he'd worn when his mother had taken him bowling when he was seven. He quite liked them. The jacket was a strange material, James called it 'crushed velvet', and was a little scratchy on the inside. James had bought it on summer holiday with his parents in muggle London, and he promised him it was quite popular among the non-magical community.

"And I've taken almost three months of Muggle Studies, Moony, I think I know what I'm talking about."

He and Sirius also claimed to have seen several muggle movies over the summer, including one they absolutely refused to even mention by name, and so claimed to know exactly what a muggle-born witch like Tracy Trevone would like.

Sirius clapped him on the back, "She'll be on you like bowtruckles on tree lice, mate."

Unless tree lice had started repelling bowtruckles, Remus felt the comparison was ill fitting.

Behind them there was a small explosion, James and Peter began coughing and gagging, then the curtain around Remus' bed burst into flames.

"Don't worry! We have it under control!" James shouted as he and Peter pulled the drape down and began stomping on it. A foul odor filled the room.

Remus pinched the bridge of his nose.

This was an epic mistake.

He was keeping the shoes though.