A/N: Hey! How good is Nanowrimo? Yeah, I'm doing that. So… don't expect much from me for November. Why? Because this is the story for Nanowrimo! So, in October, there will be an influx of updates weekly! Yay ^^
A/N: There will definitely an update on my BIRTHDAYYYYYYY! (25th of November). Turning 13… man, being an 'official' teenager. Eck.
Chapter Three
"MUM! Where's my socks?"
"Have you checked the family owl cage?"
"What would they be doing – oh, yeah, they're here. I'm going into the kitchen now, so don't you dare be snogging Dad when I'm walking in!"
"Remus, get your owl off my owl!"
"No, you get your owl out from under my owl!"
"Don't be a smart arse, this is a Sirius cause! I don't know whether they're mating or whether your owl is trying to claw my owl's eyes out!"
"Did you just make that pun, Sirius! DID YOU JUST MAKE THAT PUN?"
"Yes, I did."
"Oh."
"What type of spread would you like on your toast, Garen?"
"How about your special spread?"
"DAD!"
"What? She makes the best jam and cheese mixture!"
"She's the cats mother!"
"Speaking of cats being mothers, I think Tiff's giving birth via mouth!"
"That's a fur ball, Padfoot. You, of all people should know what that is."
"Shut it, you, otherwise I'll Siriusly maim you!"
"DID YOU JUST MAKE THAT PUN AGAIN?"
"Calm down, brown cow!"
"I AM NOT A COW!"
"Fine then. Calm down, were-clown."
"That was better. BUT NOT GOOD ENOUGH!"
"Will all of you SHUT UP and EAT YOUR BREAKFAST!"
There was silence, finally, after Mrs Potter's surprisingly angry outburst. Remus hurried down the stairs, Sirius hurried in from the lounge room, and James immediately seated himself in a chair in the dining table.
"Now, then. Since we're all calm and composed, how about some pancakes?" asked Mrs Potter pleasantly. She was met with silence.
"Well? Do you want to have breakfast before you go to the Hogwarts Express?"
Immediately, Remus and Sirius sat down on either side of James, all of them nodding. Mrs Potter placed three pancakes on each plate and said, "If you want more, they're in the pan on the stove."
There was silence in the kitchen as the boys and Mr and Mrs Potter ate their breakfast at the dining table.
Mrs Potter welcomed the peace, for she knew that once breakfast was over, all hell will break loose until they all apparated to Kings Cross station.
The doorbell rang – once, twice, three times, four times, and then silence. The Potters, Remus and Sirius all glanced at each other. Then, a slam on the door indicated that someone needed to come in. Badly.
"Who's that?" asked James.
"I don't know," said Mr Potter, warily glancing at his wife. No matter how many good things there are, there's always bad things bringing them down. Especially in these times. He gripped his wand, hiding it behind his back, and then headed to the front door.
Mr Potter cautiously opened it to find a neighbour jumping up and down on the spot. Upon closer inspection, it was Mr Robinson from down the road. Renee Robinson was a friend of the Potters, and a past Hogwarts student. Mr Robinson was her Muggle husband that she had met during an Auror mission.
"Oh, I'm so sorry! I really need to use the bathroom! I lost the keys to my house and I saw that you were still here, so I knocked! Could I please use the bathroom?"
His tone was one of urgency, and he continued to jump up and down.
"Er-"
"Please sir!"
"Well… I suppose… It's in the third door to the right."
"Thank you!"
He bustled into the house, past the still open kitchen door, and burst into the bathroom. Odd looks were exchanged with one another in the dining hall. With a bewildered expression on his face, Mr Potter gently closed the door.
It was only nine in the morning, and they still had an hour to get everything packed and organized before they all apparated to the Kings Cross train station.
Mr Potter returned to the dining room, and signalled that it was ok.
"It was just a Muggle needing to use the bathroom," he said, seating himself at the dining table. Mrs Potter's look of worry didn't fade from her face.
"What if that was a Death Eater in disguise?"
"You worry too much, Mum," said James fondly.
"In these times, worry is something quite reasonable," said Mrs Potter. There was no laughter, no signs of joking in her face. A look of unease passed through the three Marauders.
"Honey, it was Renee's husband down the road," said Mr Potter reassuringly.
"Are you sure?"
"Positive," said Mr Potter confidently, "Besides, you have a tendency to overreact," he pointed out. Mrs Potter crossed her arms, a look of disapproval on her face, and said nothing.
"Well, these pancakes aren't going to eat themselves," said Mr Potter.
Immediately, Sirius, Remus and James started to shovel pancakes in their mouths, almost like a vacuum.
There was no more chatter until Mr Robinson flushed the toilet. Mr Robinson shuffled down the hall. He had kicked his shoes off vigorously before entering the Potter home, and he called out, "Thanks mate!" before the sounds of shoes being squeezed onto feet were heard near the front door.
"See," said Mr Potter, "He seemed like a nice guy."
"Yes, seemed," murmured Mrs Potter, picking up Mr Potter's empty plate and placing it in the sink full of hot, soapy water, where the scrubbing brush immediately attacked it on its own accord.
"Are you going to be picking apart my sentences until we get to Kings Cross?" grumbled Mr Potter, getting up and folding the Daily Prophet. In unison, the three Marauders got up and placed their plates in the sink, the scrubbing brush scrubbing away furiously.
Mrs Potter didn't answer, but she went upstairs to change her clothes for the umpteenth time. Mr Potter shook his head, muttering something under his breath, pocketing his wand and heading into the lounge room.
This left the three Marauders to glance at each other and say in unison,
"Does marriage do that to you?"
Then, they all glanced at each other and burst out laughing.
"Well, maybe… anyway, we'd better get packing. You still have your clothes everywhere, James. And Sirius, your owl seriously needs to be sedated – it's panicking and pecking his cage apart. I can hear it, even though you chucked him and his cage in the attic," said Remus, getting up and stretching.
"My owl? What about yours? That thing is crazy as!" complained Sirius, also getting up.
"As I said earlier, your owl is pecking his cage apart. Mine, however, is as quiet as he can be."
"Yeah, plotting his next move against my owl!"
"Very assuming, aren't you?"
"No I'm not! You can see it in his beady little eyes… he's waiting to attack! I'm telling you, he's waiting to attack!"
"My owl is not waiting to attack, you're just biased as hell!"
"You're just in denial!"
"No I'm… I see what you did there."
At this point, James got up and led them out of the kitchen, and said casually,
"Ladies, ladies, you're both pretty… ugly."
Remus rolled his eyes and Sirius snorted indignantly and with an attitude and a click of his fingers he said (much like a teenage girl),
"Don't be hatin' 'cause you're jealling."
"What is jealling?" asked James, interested.
"It's slang for jealous," Remus said, poking Sirius in the side.
"How did you pick that up?" asked James incredulously. Sirius flashed him a smile and a suggestive wink.
"When you hang around girls as much as I do, you pick up a few terms."
"James! Sirius!"
"Yes, mum?" yelled James over the noise and chatter plaguing Platform 9 and ¾. He tugged Sirius up to the window as they watched Mrs Potter struggling to keep her hat on her head, for a strong gust of wind blew up around her.
"I love you two! Don't forget to write! Owl me if you need anything!"
James leaned his head out of the window to allow Mrs Potter to kiss his head and give him a quick hug, Sirius doing the same thing. The Hogwarts Express gave a shrill whistle and started to move.
"Bye mum!" yelled James. Remus also popped his head out of the window.
"Bye Jane!" Sirius and Remus chorused. Mrs Potter beamed and fell back, waving as Mr Potter snaked an arm around her waist, him beaming and waving too. Soon, the train turned the corner and Mr and Mrs Potter disappeared from view.
With a collective sigh, the three Marauders turned away from the window and rolled their trunks behind them as they searched for Peter.
When they eventually found Peter, he was in an empty compartment whistling quietly under his breath, faithfully waiting for them.
"Thanks, Wormtail," said Remus gratefully.
"Got your owl," said Peter, nodding to James, "Dunno how you got the Head Boy badge, either."
"Speaking of Head Boy-ness-ness-ness, we better get to the Prefect's compartment, Moony!" said James, linking his arms with Remus. They both chucked their trunks and owl cages into the compartment and skipped to the correct compartment, receiving odd looks and whispers.