Coffee

Warnings: No plot. No logic. Bad english. I am running on no sleep and little coffee (although I'm currently on my thirteenth cup of tea).

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any of his characters. I (sadly) do not make any profit from this.

Ok, It's four in the morning, I'm supposed to get up at seven -and at this point I'm thinking of not going to bed at all- and this idea clubbed me over the head. Keep in mind this is humour-intended; I only know english as my second language, have absolutely no idea of old english -I'm currently struggling with modern english!- and am in no state of mind to even think of researching a bit. This is a completely random, mad, no rhyme no reason fic.

'I verily yonder,' the wizard said, 'if this affliction of mine could be cured by a potion so sweet. Could it be? Could I find myself free of this sickness that consumes my every waking thought, my every dream and word?'
'Ah, my dear friend, it is my sacred duty to let you know of the happenstances that took place while you were away, sequestered in that dreary prison from wherein you could not leave; but fear not, for I have found a potion of which just a taste will render thy illness dead.'

Harry stared, gobsmacked, at his honorary godfather. He had expected that madness from Sirius, even at six in the bloody morning -and his dogfather quite clearly had no idea of Old English, despite his attempts at pretending differently- but Remus? Responsible, dependable, quiet Remus?

He sighed.

'Yes, Sirius. Coffee. Take a bloody cup and shut up! I haven't had my daily fix yet.'

For a few minutes silence reigned in the room. Harry fixed himself a third cup of coffee, letting the smell permeate his nose before he even attempted drinking it. Now, if Sirius could manage to stay quiet for just ten more minut-

' 'tis indeed a most powerful drink, the most powerful of them all! But my dear Remus, this must be the work of the fae! Who but them could prepare such an exquisite brew, if not the peop-'

Harry sent another "silentio" to his former teacher, then added a spellotape charm to their lips for good measure.

Where was he? Ah, yes, his fourth cup. He'd consider removing the charms by the fifth, once he was at least partially awake.

Maybe.

Sorry for the craziness!