James was perched on his windowsill, one leg curled up onto it with the other still resting on the floor. In one hand were his glasses, and in the other the hem of his shirt that was being used to clean the lenses. He was aware of the other person in his room, currently sprawled out on his bed with his head hanging off the edge of it as he flipped through a magazine. The room was silent aside from the periodic flip of a page, but James wasn't really paying attention to his friend, much more concerned with his own thoughts that revolved around the small package that rest over on his desk. "I think it's a sign."

Sirius sighed and turned another page in the newest Quidditch Quarterly. He wasn't actually reading the articles, his vision swimming the slightest bit due to all of the blood rushing to his head on account of being upside down for so long. Even if he had tried to pay attention to the words written there, he knew it would be for naught as sooner than later James would try to strike up a conversation about the only thing he appeared to care about since they had gotten their school lists for Seventh Year two days before. ...and there he went. "James," Sirius said softly. "Shut the hell up about it." If this was going to go on until they went back to Hogwarts, he was going to have to find somewhere else to stay. Maybe Mr Potter would let him camp out in the shed, he could clear out some space, string up a hammock and-

"No, I'm serious. Why else would this happen?" Sliding his glasses back onto his face, James hadn't noticed whatsoever that his best friend was becoming exasperated with his talk of finding out he was to be Head Boy the next school year. If that hadn't been a surprise enough, he had nearly keeled over when his owl sent to Lily Evans gloating about this fact had quickly been returned, she telling him this must be a mistake because she had been named Head Girl. He hadn't even been as Prefect! This was a thought that had also occurred to him, but by now he had assured that badge hadn't ended up in the hands of the wrong person.

Of all of the people he could have chosen to befriend that first day on the Hogwarts Express so many years ago, Sirius of course had to pick bloody James Potter: the boy who had his head so far up Lily Evan's arse for the past three years he had no idea how much of a twat he was. Sure, sure, whatever, that friendship had led to him having a place to stay and surrogate family when he had given his biological one a big 'fuck you' earlier in the summer, but still. This was cruel and unusual punishment. "Obviously Dumbledore has taken it upon himself to play matchmaker. I can't wait to see who he's going to set me up with; I do hope it is not that Hufflepuff beater who has a lazy eye. She will be talking to me, but I always end up paranoid that there is someone behind me waiting to attack on accord of her wonky eye always looking off to the side." Was he actually paying attention to the words coming out of his mouth? No, but that was mainly because he knew he could say anything and James would selectively pick and choose what he wanted to hear.

Which was exactly what James did, tuning out everything the other had said past the first sentence. His brows furrowed slightly as she shifted his eyes left to Sirius, and then right over to his desk. Was he onto something? "No, why would- You don't really think he would- But that wouldn't make any sense?" There was a pause in which he appeared deep in thought, which was a stretch for him. "What do you think?" He looked over at his friend, starting slightly at the sight of the other's head being beet red. It couldn't be healthy to have so much blood pool in your head, but there was more important things to discuss right now than Sirius's well-being. Okay, that hadn't come out right, but this was important, damnit. If his best friend wanted to make himself pass out, that was not James' prerogative.

Another page was turned, much more sluggishly than before; Sirius was really starting to get a head rush. This should potentially be remedied, but maybe if he blacked out he wouldn't have to hear James go on and on and on and on. "I think..." Slamming that magazine down on the bed next to him, he quickly rolled over onto his stomach, his head still hanging off the bed, though, he didn't feel so lightheaded now. Just kind of queasy. Eh. Letting his arms come to fall off the foot of the bed, his knuckles brushed against the floor as he tilted his head to rest his cheek against his shoulder. "That you are a prat," Sirius took a deep breath before continuing on, now using a sing-song voice as he spoke, "Because James Potter is a prat. He's a stupid prat. He iss the prattiest prat that ever did prat. James Potter Prat, blah blah blah. Pratty pratty prat, p-p-p-prat. Uhh, I think I am going to be sick... so, how about that?" He closed his eyes and willed that nauseous feeling away.

James was not impressed by this little melody. He was in dire need of trying to figure things out right now, and Sirius was singing. Singing. Perhaps in some alternate world in which random musicals were in the status quo that would be helpful, but not in this time and place. "Some friend you are. Peter agrees that it might be a sign, and he didn't have to sing off key to tell me that."

As long as he didn't move too much, Sirius was pretty sure he wasn't going to throw up his lunch. Godric, why had he just thought about food? That didn't help at all. Nor did his feeling of malaise particularly endear him to his friend's plight. Why couldn't James just shush about that damned badge and what it meant in the grand scheme of things? Oh yeah, he was a prat. "Did he really? Well, that was nice of him," he very nearly sounded genuinely intrigued, but the fact that he was slumped over on a bed spoke otherwise. "Prat."

For all that the two were thick as thieves, it was only understandable that they would eventually get on the nerves of the other. It took a special sort of dedication to tick off a friend who was just as skilled at infuriating people as you were. Being so close to someone for so long meant that you got insight into pressing their buttons, exactly as Sirius was doing now. If James was any sort of rational person, he would realise that it was unfair of him to think the slightly old Gryffindor honestly wanted to hear about Lily Evans more after he had already heard about nothing else non-stop for the past couple... of... years two days straight. The problem with that was simple: James Potter wasn't exactly what you would call a rational person, more along the type of person who could take something and blow it way, way out of proportion. He also had mastered the act of scowling; it sort of came along with the entire territory of being raised a spoiled brat. "Fine. Then what do you want to talk about? We could talk about the Hufflepuff with the lopsided eye. Or the Fourth Year that drew your name and hers in lots of little hearts? There was proof, Remus saw the notes."

Sirius groaned into his arms, wondering how the suggestion of James talking about shutting up would go over. "Silence," he croaked, moving slowly to pull himself back onto the bed entirely, crossing his arms before burying his face into them. He made a mental note (that would be forgotten about in a few minutes) to never hang upside down off the side of a bed, again. "Or we could talk about how you are a praaaa-aaa-tah." His words were muffled by his arms and the comforter underneath him, but not enough so that one couldn't hear the soft chuckle that came about before he muttered, "James Potter. Head Prat."

James let his other leg drop to the floor, his foot hitting it with a 'thud'. Crossing his arms over his chest, he leaned back against the window and sent an irritated look over at the one on his bed as he let out a long-suffering sigh. "You do realise - I know you must - that this year, I will not only be Captain of the House team, but also Head Boy, right? I could have your arse benched all season and in detention every other moment, though honestly, you're pretty good at getting yourself in detention already, but still." A pissy James was never a fun James, and right now he was more than a little exasperated. He possibly deserved this after going on about Lily for days, but that didn't matter.

These were idle threats and Sirius knew it. One, James wasn't dumb enough to sack the Beater that had been on the team longer than anyone else, and two, if he spent all of his time in detention then that would mean his friend would be down one person always ready to go along with the stupidest stunts the Marauders could come up with. Well, Peter was usually willing, or could be reassured that whatever horrible plan was a brilliant idea, and Remus could be convinced they weren't doing anything too disastrously wrong on any sort of moral code... It was a matter of principle. With this knowledge in mind, Sirius felt no remorse about what he whipped out next, "Exercising your authority over me is not going to make Evans fall in love with you, Pratter. Sorry, Potter." Why yes, there was a stupid smirk hidden by his arms.

Hazel eyes narrowed dangerously before James dropped his arms from his chest. Reaching over to the side table within his reach, he picked up his glasses case and chucked it as Sirius's head. All of those years of training pulled through as it hit the other square in the back of his head, Sirius letting out a howl before bolting up some to see what the hell had just happened. Great, now he felt gross and his head hurt. James had a chesire grin on his face that he smugly directed towards that side of his room, it only growing when the other looked from him down to the glasses case. "Fifty points from Sirius Black for being a prat." Hey, what do you know, he could really get used to this Head Boy thing.

Picking up that glasses case, Sirius threw it as hard as he could towards James. He didn't aim for his prat head, but lower in his center of gravity. James saw that coming a mile away, and jumped to the side. Not fast enough, however, as it hit him in his shin and causing him him to hiss through his teeth. Fuck, that thing was practically a lethal weapon! During this all, he managed to miscalculate his steps and his shoulder slammed into his book case that really didn't hold many books, but quite a few of the random trinkets that did line the shelves were knocked or rolled off, falling to the floor with a loud clatter. That was the least of James' worry, he knew, quickly recovering from that blow to go on the defence. And not a moment too soon.

Having forgotten about his upset stomach, Sirius had practically vaulted off of the bed, making his way straight for his friend. Reeling his fist back, he swung at James' jaw, but the other boy was able to block the majority of that punch as he felt it only graze his chin. What he hadn't been expecting was that Sirius would follow that up by swinging that same arm around his neck, forcing him down into a headlock with a triumphant cackle. But, there was no way he was going to let himself be bested by the true prat in this equation, which was why as he struggled to stand up straight again, he cocked his elbow forward and jammed it back with as much force as he could muster towards Sirius's stomach. Likewise with the headlock, the headlocker had not expected the headlockee to throw in a dirty move like that; who cared if it did only hit him right above his hip? In all actuality, Sirius was a little glad he hadn't just puked.

The force of Sirius doubling over some caused James to land down hard on one knee, ready to try and knock the other off of his feet when his mum's voice rang out from downstairs telling them to stop "Whatever in Merlin's name you two are doing!" Both boys froze for a second, then hurriedly broke up what had the promise to be a rather nice fight. James and Sirius alike tried to appear still peeved, but it wasn't too hard to see the smirks hiding right below the surface.

Sirius took a step back and pressed one hand over his hip, then brought the other to rub at that tender spot at the back of his head. While this was going on, James pulled himself up off the floor and kneaded his knuckles into the side of his neck. It could have been over, some unspoken truce easily could have come about, but the bespectacled boy had another idea. That smirk picking up a notch or two, that hand at his neck swung out - palm open - and slapped Sirius across the face with a smack so loud it almost echoed. "And that's twenty more points for roughhousing!" The stunned look on his best friend's face made him break out into an obnoxious laughter, James turning and running out of his room and towards the staircase as swiftly as he could. If he could actually make it outside, he might be able to actually outrun Sirius and not find himself cornered.

Smack Sirius Black once? Shame on him. Smack Sirius Black twice? And you must die. That full-handed slap registered so fast that Sirius didn't really even have time to react other than dropping his jaw to gape. Had that fucking bastard really just done that! It took him a second to shake off that daze, watching James's receding back making him realise that yes, he had just more or less gotten bitchslapped. With a grunt, he raced off after the other, hot on his trail as they both came closer to the stairs. "Praaaaat!" he shouted, just before Elaine's voice rang out once more telling them to stop acting like heathens.