Do I really need to do a disclaimer? Fine.

Mimi si wenyewe Harry Potter.

Yes, I just wrote a disclaimer in Swahilli. There. You happy?

"Sirius."

No response.

"Sirius."

No response.

"Sirius?"

No response.

"Yes, Ron, I'm ashamed of it, but I guess I will have to throw this bucket of really cold water into the Floo network."

"Ok, fine, I'm back Harry. What is it that you want this time?" Sirius asked out of the fire.

Sirius was rewarded with a bucket of cold water.

"What was that for? I spoke to you, just like you asked!"

Harry giggled. Yes, Harry giggled.

"I never said that I wouldn't throw the water into the fire. But if you want, I could throw a bucket of hot soup in your face."

Splash.

"Harry, I know that you're going through the 6093th phase of Wizard Insanity Disease Of Wackos, or WIDOW for short, but that is no excuse for throwing water at me!"

"How silly of me," said Harry. "Let me throw you a cow instead."

"How in the world are you going to fit a cow into a – OOMPH!"

"I have connections," Harry replied, grinning a grin that would put any Marauder or mischevous twin to shame.

"Ok, down to buisness. What do you want this time?" asked Sirius.

"Sirius, do you have a pickle?"

Sirius frowned. "As a matter of fact, I just had a pickle a few minutes ago. Why?"

"Sirius, can I have a pickle for Christmas?"

"Um, Harry, Christmas was yesterday."

"I said, could I have a pickle?" Harry raised his voice.

"I'm sorry, but if you want a pickle, then you'll have to wait for tomorrow morning at breakfast."

"GIVE ME THE PICKLE!"

"Harry, let me get this straight: I AIN'T GOT NO PICKLE!"

Harry started to cry.

"DAD, SIRIUS YELLED AT ME!"

"Harry, how many times do I have to tell you, your father is dead!" exclaimed Padfoot.

Potty was getting agitated.

"I'm angry. You won't like me when I'm angry."

Sirius froze.

"No – you wouldn't."

"I already have."

" !..."

Harry sat on the couch and watched contentedly as Sirius was bombarded by evil, insane ostriches. Ah, life was sweet.

"Ok. Fine. I'll give you the pickle."

"YAY! POTTY HAPPY!"

Sirius was forced to strangle himself enough to throw up.

"There. There is the pickle."

Harry looked at the puke. "That doesn't look like a pickle."

"That's because it was digested in the gross insides of you godfather."

"Fine. I'll eat the pickle."

Sirius gratefully pulled out of the fireplace.

Ten minutes later.

"Sirius? I wet myself."