Title: The Last Resort

Summary: Sirius Black, following the disaffiliation from his parents, needs gold – fast. Under pressure from his best friend and roommate, Remus Lupin, Padfoot must prove himself a responsible adult.

Note: More pre-JamesandLilycide, the home of Mister Remus-Sirius-Peter and the problems thereof, fiction. Mostly caused when Prongs suggested a continuation of Charlotte's escapades while baby-sitting Percy. Adverse as I am to creating more Charlotte fiction (confusing and not always welcome, to those who haven't role played or have been given sufficient background), I made a slight change to Sirius. Hence...

Dedication: Prongs. Without you, I wouldn't be getting headaches from trying to go see a film with you that I don't even believe worthy of our seven dollars. I also wouldn't be getting brilliant fan fiction ideas.
Ah, autumn. It really was a brilliant time of year – the maple tree in front of a particular flat (inhabited by Messrs. Black, Lupin, and Pettigrew) had long since made it's transformation, and the days of September seemed to last a willing eternity. Not that anyone complained – Mister Pettigrew, presently unemployed, but living quite comfortably off of a recently inherited fortune, certainly liked to ruin the neat piles that the local obsessive compulsive (or, as he preferred, 'tidier') so meticulously raked on the front lawn.

Well, perhaps Mister Lupin complained, on account of his having to take out the leaf blower once AGAIN, but he never really raised his voice above a low murmur. Hence, no one complained AUDIBLY, and that was all that mattered.

Yes, the leaves sashayed in miraculous proportions, and their colours were of a brilliance inexplicable. The wind bore them, much as they did the pair of boxer shorts tossed out the window...

"HEY!"

Sirius Black, the first, the last, and the devilishly handsome, screeched and leaned out of the window, hands reaching in vain for the regrettably lost underpants. Just as quickly, he turned about, feet as a pivot, and scowled viciously at the culprit. "What the HELL was that for?" Sirius snarled, not unlike a dog, of sorts.

Remus Lupin shrugged. "I was under the impression that you were not able to procure the correct amount to be submitted as your portion of the monthly RENT. The rest of your belongings will follow, if you fail to hand it over.

"Of course, if you HAVE, then I will gladly go retrieve your UNDERWEAR, accompanied by an apology." Sirius's mouth twitched. Remus scoffed. "Oh, I apologise – I forgot. You do not comprehend the word 'rent', do you? How about, the fee we are required to provide in order to continue residence in this – HOVEL."

Peter blinked and looked up from Lupin's record collection. "I don't think it's a hovel," he said flatly, having selected 'Road to Ruin'. Sirius snorted. Peter's cat awoke, clearly displeased by this sudden argument, and rose from it's napping place beneath the refrigerator. Slowly, it stalked towards Peter, liberally covering Remus's records with stark grey cat hair.

Remus rolled his eyes. "Be so kind as to tell me, please, exactly when you WILL be able to secure said RENT," he said, clearly ignoring Peter. "And get that bloody cat away from there."

Sirius shrugged. "I don't know – I think my uncle will probably be sending more gold in the post, soon –" Remus scowled, and Sirius grimaced in reply. "What? What's the problem with THAT? You'll get your bloody rent!"

"The problem," replied Remus, rather dangerously, "is that you rely completely – entirely! – on the generosity of OTHERS! Peter, MOVE THAT CAT." Remus sniffed. "You have no responsibility for yourself, or for the people you are supposed to be supporting, as an equal unit."

"WHAT?" Sirius cried. "What's THAT supposed to mean?" He crossed his arms over his chest and sneered. What did Lupin know, anyways?

"It means," said Remus, voice finally rising, "GET A JOB!" With that, he stormed from the room.

Peter blinked owlishly. "What was that about?" He pet the cat absently. A cloud of hair wafted and spread itself across the vinyl that Peter was setting up on the record player.

Sirius seethed silently. Remus had been acting oddly for ages... He silently contemplated his dilemma – no, not dilemma. That was too much to ALLOW the little lycanthrope – that would have meant actual perturbation. Sirius scowled. He wasn't just about to allow THAT – would deny Lupin THAT much, at least.

Remus popped his head back inside. "MOVE THAT DAMN CAT!"
Note: Remus may/may not seem out of character – if it is the former, then I must say, it is partially intentional (to be explained later; possibly through my other piece, 'Keeping Faith'. Yes, this is a PLUG. BWAHAHAHAHAHAH!). The appearance of Peter's cat, Remus's diagnosis of OCD, and 'Road to Ruin' are also intentional. As one might have guessed, I'm a huge fan of irony. Next chapter will more or less be the Percy introduction – possibly the one after that. =shrug= The beginning's short, but I'll try to lengthen it up next chapter.