Lord Of The Guys: The First Installment

Sirius woke up one morning with the mother of all hangovers. That is, if the mother of all hangovers had gone to a boot camp and trained for a year and a day to become the most hung-over hangover in existence, and during its time there cultivated a deep dislike for several things, including sunlight, noise, and the absence of pain. For some inexplicable reason wherever it was Sirius was waking up was extremely bright and noisy. That, and there was a determined squawking from somewhere above his head. Sirius moaned something unintelligible by way of a threat: if he had the energy, he'd give whatever it was something to squawk about.

Sirius gagged, trying to rid his mouth of the awful taste it contained. His tongue felt swollen, dry as a bone, and very much like something covered in sand had died on it during the night. He cracked an eye open, wincing at the harsh glare of the sun, and squinted down at his tongue. It was, indeed, covered with sand. Sirius looked down at himself in consternation. He too, was covered in sand. In fact, he was surrounded by sand. This was because he was lying on a sandy white beach, with turquoise waves crashing onto the shore, and parrots with feathers too gaudy to look at for more than a few seconds soaring in the sky above him.

"Fuck!" Sirius exclaimed, and then wished he hadn't. The noise didn't just jar horribly in his aching brain, it also startled a flock of bloody evil feathered buggers parrots in the palm tree a few metres away that immediately started shrieking in unbridled delight.

"Fuck," Sirius whimpered quietly, cradling his head in his hands.

James found Remus standing in the shade of a tall palm tree, smoking a cigarette and studying his bitten fingernails with vague interest. When Remus heard James approaching, he looked up, pleasant surprise written all over his face. James's face was ashen, his hair was a chaotic mess of twigs, gel and sand (although admittedly if the sand wasn't there, it would look quite normal for James), and he was only wearing his Hogwarts blazer, red boxer shorts, and glasses (which were making a bid for escape by sliding down the side of his face and trying to jump off his right ear).

"Hello," Remus said calmly, stubbing out his cigarette on the tree bark. "Can we go home now?"

James stared at Remus. Remus gazed back at him thoughtfully. James took a wobbly step forward, then fell to his knees and was violently sick on a wrinkled green turtle basking in the hot sun nearby. Remus sighed.

Peter had been having the time of his life, splashing around in the rock pool with the complete and utter ecstasy of the Englishman who suddenly finds himself in a more tolerable climate (the climate of any other country in the world). He had been having the time of his life, that is, until the family of crabs that resided there had decided that they didn't particularly want grubby naked feet disturbing their tranquil habitat. They attacked his big toe in a fury, causing him to howl with pain and hop up and down comically, which enraged the crustaceans even more. He'd tried to stamp on them and smash their shells then, but they'd been too quick, and the daddy crab had scuttled round and sliced his ankles, whilst the babies nipped at his toes. Peter had been forced to retreat to the side of the pool, where he nursed his cut feet and glared with hate at the crabs scuttling about self-righteously in the shallow water. They'd started it, he hadn't done anything wrong. Peter racked his brains and tried to think of a revenge that would be suitably fitting for animals that were not only clearly evil, but walked sideways.

Remus found Peter, pyjama bottoms round his ankles, urinating into a rock pool. He was very red in the face, and seemed to be mouthing the words 'Serves you little fuckers right'. Remus glanced at James to see what he made of this, but the dark-haired boy only made a face which suggested he was about to throw up again, and shielded his eyes. Remus cleared his throat, and Peter spun round, startled.

"It's all their fault!" He insisted vehemently, seeing Remus's wide eyes and James's nauseated expression. "That big one, he bit me! Prongs, Moony, he bit me out of spite and I didn't do anything!" Peter indicated a shallow cut on his heel, eyes bugging slightly in rage. "You guys… you have to believe me!"

"I believe you," Remus said wearily, feeling in his pocket for another cigarette. "Pete, for Christ's sake, pull your trousers up."

By the time they found Sirius, curled up on a beach in the foetal position, James had vomited two more times, (the last time it had been on Remus's shoes), and Peter was still talking to anyone who wouldn't listen about the crabs.

"They're a fucking menace to society," Peter was scowling. "I'm bleeding all over now – well, not bleeding exactly, but you can see the blood, kind of inside the cut, can't you? And it hurts like anything…"

"I thought I was dreaming, when I woke up, y'know?" James moaned. Remus was trying to drag him along, keep him upright, and point his head in Peter's vague direction so his shoes wouldn't suffer if James puked again. "The only reason I knew I wasn't was that I felt like shit, and Evans wasn't lying next to me in a coconut bra."

Remus did not comment on this.

"Isn't that Sirius?" James mumbled suddenly. He wrenched himself free of Remus's grip and started to blunder towards him, lurching dangerously from side to side. "Mate! Oi! Padfoot!"

Sirius looked up and saw James hurrying towards him. He put a finger to his lips, and shook his head from side to side slowly (if he shook any faster, he thought his brain might explode).

"Quiet," he croaked softly. "Please."

"SIRIUS!" James yelled, and flung his arms around his best friend. Sirius cringed at the noise, but allowed himself to be hugged, sitting there limply. He grinned weakly at Remus over James's shoulder, flashing his white teeth.

"Hi," Sirius nodded. Remus glared.

"This is your fault."

"Why is it always my fault?"

"Prongs is paralytic, Wormtail was found doing unspeakable things to crabs, and we're stuck on what seems to be a desert island. This must be your fault."

"It probably is my fault," Sirius agreed. He tried to think back to the previous night, but it hurt too much, so he stopped and beamed up at Remus charmingly. "I can't really remember doing anything, though."

"You can't remember?" Remus asked in disbelief. He cast a look at Peter, who was sitting in the sand, muttering darkly. James was slumped over Sirius's shoulder, looking faintly green. Sirius pouted.

"What about you, what do you remember?"

"Look, I remember…" Remus thought. He couldn't remember that much, actually. The heat was going to his head. "I remember going to the library after dinner yesterday, to study for the Arithmancy test."

"And then?" Sirius asked, eyebrows raised. Remus made a 'Shove-off-you-wanker-this-is-all-your-f ault' face and played with a loose thread at the sleeve of his jumper.

"And then I don't remember anything else," he scowled. "I must've dozed off, I woke up under a palm tree, and I naturally assumed this was one of your stupid pranks."

"It'd have to be a pretty elaborate prank," Sirius murmured, patting a groaning James sympathetically on the back. "You know what, I'm starving. Accio breakfast, eh?"

James complied. Having already emptied his stomach of the previous day's dinner, lunch and mid-morning snack, he vomited down Sirius's back what he'd had for brekkie the day before. Eggs. Scrambled ones, although that little distinction hardly mattered now. Sirius shuddered in disgust, and the corners of Remus's mouth twitched slightly. James slid onto the sand, muttering half-hearted apologies.

"And that's another thing," Remus went on briskly, as Sirius removed his damp and sick-stained black shirt. "None of us have our wands. Peter's in his pyjamas, and James is – well. I don't have mine, I left it in the dorm, so unless you…"

"Unless I what?" Remus had trailed off, and was staring at Sirius's bare chest with an odd expression.

"Unless you have a wand," Peter supplied helpfully, from where he was sucking his sore toes with gusto. He really was amazingly flexible for someone so pale and podgy.

"No, I don't," Sirius answered, scratching the skin beneath his navel lazily and distracting Remus even more. "But I've just thought – do you think we're alone here? We should search the island. Maybe there's someone else here too, with a wand. Maybe they brought us here, so we could, erm, be here. Get tans. Eat coconuts. And then go home."

"I suppose that's not wholly improbable," Remus mused. Sirius scrambled to his feet.

"I am, naturally, the greatest genius that ever lived." He noticed Remus's scathing expression, and decided not to exaggerate just yet. "Well, apart from the fellow who thought up the Dungbomb."

"And the inventor of the racing broom," James contributed weakly.

"You want to leave these two alone together?" Remus asked in disbelief. "One of them seems hell-bent on regurgitating every thing he's eaten since third year, and the other's mouth is full of toenail." A crunching sound from Peter confirmed this.

"I'll look after him. We'll be all righ'," he mumbled, from behind his left foot. Sirius rubbed his forehead with the back of his hand and grinned triumphantly.

"See? They'll be fine," he assured Remus, starting to stride confidently towards the trees, across the hot sand. "Trust me."

Who should be on the island with the Marauders? (Poll Closed)

Snape.
Lily.
Snape and Lily.
Regulus or Bellatrix.
Other people/combinations. (Please specify.)