A/N: This fic is set in the Marauders' sixth year, and Sirius and Remus are having a bit of a dilemma. James and Peter are trying to get them together - for their happiness and for money, too.

JAMES' POV

"I'm telling you, Pete, it's absolute GENIUS."
Pettigrew scoffed at me. "It's the oldest trick in the book. Seriously."
"Yeah, which is why they won't be suspecting it. All their UST is killing me."
It was a foggy Saturday morning, and Peter and I were lounging in the common room. There was no better feeling than to relax by the fire on a day like that, all mysterious.
It was our sixth year at Hogwarts, and we were SUPPOSED to be studying for our practice Transfiguration N.E.W.T exam in the next couple of days. But, as usual, I was shirking my studies (along with Wormtail), whilst Pads was getting off - desperately - with some girl in the year below, and Moony was in the library.
"It's not just the UST, James. It's the bet, too. I'm not stupid. You know that when the two finally get together, it has to be of their own accord for it to be a valid win. Locking them in a broom cupboard together is hardly of their own accord."
At the time, the whole school had this massive, massive bettting pool on when Remy and Sirius would pair up. The whole school knew that Sirius Orion Black swung both ways. Well. More towards the masculine community, anyway. That was why he was dating so many chicks. As if it was a disease he could cure.
Peter and I had 20 Galleons each on November, and it was already the 16th. Just fourteen days to get the two to have a public, conscious, display of affection. Two weeks. We were getting desperate.
"Well, what else can we do? We've tried slipping Sirius some Amortentia. What a mess that was."
Peter scowled. "You don't say. You accidentally spiking MY drink and making me confess my 'love' to Larissa Clythe was a Grade 2 disaster."
I smirked at the memory. Oh, how stupid Peter had looked when he had made up an entire sonnet for that blue-eyed Hufflepuff. I guessed he wouldn't be trying anything like that in a hurry for a while.
I stroked my stubbled chin "What about staging some sort of accident? Like telling Sirius that Moony's fallen down the Grand Staircase or something? Try and get a lovey-dovey response from him?"
Peter shook his head. "No. It wouldn't be worth half of the prize pot each. What if Sirius never forgave us? About lying to him about something as dangerous as that?"
I was starting to get seriously narked.
"Look, Pete. What do you propose we do then? I'm getting seriously narked."
"You know what Sirius would say to that if he were here right now?" Peter grinned. I held up my hand to halt him.
"No. Don't. It's bad enough when he says it. Don't you start too."
The last thing I wanted to hear was Messr Padfoot saying 'I'M always Sirius', but, unfortunately for me, that's exactly what I heard a moment later.