Quick note: if you got the memo that I updated, and you're looking at this thinking "I read this yesterday", go back one chapter to Meeting Miss Evans. Little mix up on the order of the moments. Thanks! Happy reading!

Bang!

"James!"

"Sorry!"

Remus sighed gustily. "If you were sorry, this wouldn't be the third time in an hour."

James straightened his glasses and grinned up at Remus. "You like rearranging your books, don't you?" he said cheekily, before leaping to his feet again. Remus flicked his wand and repaired his bookshelf — again — and glared at Peter.

"I blame you," he muttered darkly.

"What'd I do?" the blond boy squeaked.

Remus shook his head in disgust. "I have a new dorm rule to propose," he announced to anyone who would listen. "James Potter is not allowed coffee."

"Aw, that's not fair," James whined. "I liked it."

"Not on weekends," Remus insisted. "You're way too hyper to be stuck in the dorm. Why don't we go outside?"

"How about down to the Quidditch pitch?" Sirius suggested.

"Quidditch!"

Remus sighed as he picked up his scattered books. "Now you've done it…"

"What do you say, Sirius?" James bounced around their dormitory. "Gonna try out for the team?"

"I think I will," Sirius yawned. Opposite of James, he lay bonelessly on his bed, looking as if he'd never move again. He grinned lazily. "Be fun to play a friendly match against the family again."

"You've played before?" Peter asked enviously. "Mum would never let me fly."

Remus smiled to himself, thinking that Mrs. Pettigrew was a very intelligent woman.

"Yeah, we'd always play when the cousins got together," Sirius yawned again. "Fly around and try to knock each other off the brooms, mostly, I seem to recall good old Bella trying to teach us that we got points for hitting each other in the head with the Quaffle, not putting it through the hoops…"

"Sounds like, er, fun. You're a good flyer, anyway." James bounced a little too exuberantly up onto Sirius' bed, and promptly hurtled off the other side. Remus rolled his eyes at his two friends; James seemed to have stolen all of Sirius' energy, leaving the grey-eyed boy too slothful to do anything but snicker at their over-enthusiastic — or overly caffeinated — friend.

"What'll you try out for?" Remus asked them curiously.

James' untidy head reappeared, glasses askew. "Not coming with us, Remmy?"

"Not if you insist on calling me that," Remus threatened idly, now putting his books back in order on his shelves. "I'll come to watch, I suppose. But I don't think I'll play." He smiled wanly. "Mum doesn't want me to, says I'm 'delicate'." That, and I think I'd miss too many practices per month…

"I might try for Beater," Sirius drawled. "I'm usually good at that… just pretend the Bludgers are my dear mum's head, you know…"

"I want to be Chaser," James mused, placing his hands on the floor and kicking his legs into the air. "I wouldn't mind — rmph — Seeker, they get all the real glory…" on his third try, James managed to get up on his hands, balancing precariously and grinning upside-down at Remus. "Or Keeper," he went on, now walking unsteadily on his hands around the dormitory. "But those two are kind of boring sometimes, you have to wait for the Snitch or the other Chasers to get — bugger!" His glasses had slipped off his face and cracked against the stone floor. Sirius and Peter roared with laughter — even Remus was laughing helplessly as James put his feet back on the floor and stood up. The scowl he aimed at his friends was ruined not only by his having to squint to see them, but also that he, too, was trying to smother his laughter. Finally he gave up and jumped back on Sirius' bed, snickering uncontrollably. Sirius, reluctant to move, was landed on, and his protests made the other three laugh even harder.

"Didn't see you there!" James said gleefully, capitalizing on his lack of glasses.

Remus finally composed himself, repaired James' glasses with a tap of his wand, and handed them to his hyperactive friend. "Here," he grinned. "You'll need these if you want to see the Quaffle before it hits you in the face."

Author's note: if anyone thinks that James' hyperactivity is over the top, I actually based this on a real-life friend who does this pretty regularly. If it makes it more rational, assume that James had his first experience with coffee that morning.

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