(James Potter – Marauders Era)

148. I am not the King of the Potato People and I do not have a flying carpet.

James was bored. Extremely bored. So bored, in fact, that he had taken to stabbing forks into his potato's and using them as legs, walking them around the table continuously, while ignoring the strange looks he was receiving from the other Gryffindors that were eating their dinner. To be honest, he was more than use to it.

A tapping on his shoulder made him turn to face Remus who was staring at him oddly. "James . . . what are you doing?"

James threw his chest out proudly, while exclaiming, "I, James Potter, am the King of the Potato People."

Sirius, who had been sipping at his Pumpkin juice idly, spluttered slightly, while Peter chocked on his carrots. The rest of the Gryffindor house had similar reaction, giggling through mouthfuls of chicken and pork. The fact that an entire house seemed to be half choking, half dying attracted the attention of the Professors, and the table was suddenly joined by a disapproving McGonagall and an amused Dumbledore.

"What seems to be the problem?" Dumbledore asked quietly, and the other three houses turned to see what on earth was happening. James, encouraged by the audience and attention, stood up and faced Dumbledore with the most serious face he could conjure.

"I am King of the Potato People," he announced loud and clear and received chocking from all of the four houses. Gosh, you'd think they'd learn not to put food anywhere near their mouth while I was talking, he thought to himself, before turning to face Dumbledore, whose lip was twitching slightly. McGonagall looked scandalised.

"Oh? And what does this position entitle?" Dumbledore asked his with raised eyebrows. James stopped to think.

"It entitles . . . eating a lot of potatoes, to stop our kingdom over populating. And me riding a flying carpet to all of my lessons, if you don't mind getting me one, Minnie," he added, winking at McGonagall. She glowered at him.

"I see," Dumbledore said, a twinkle lighting up his eyes as he observed the Gryffindor in front of him. "Why don't you take a plate of potatoes and sit outside to eat them then. I don't quite think that killing the school would help keep you potatoes population down, hmmm?"

James nodded his head in agreement, as if this was something truly important to him, and he marched out of the Hall with a plate piled with potatoes, leaving a very red faced school stuck to pat each other's back in an attempt to stop them chocking. Dumbledore shook his head with a chuckle.