A/N: I am once again sorry for being a horrible updater, but I promise the next chapter will be on time. Seriously. Also, I apologize for any mistakes in this chapter, because unlike my friends, I unfortunately suck at baking and making any type of food besides a sandwich.

QOTD: "I think I have an eyelash in my pupillary sphincter." Thank you, Colin Singleton, for that inspiring quote (but mostly for teaching us that pupillary is not actually misspelled, despite what spell check says.).

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, scones, or biscuits/cookies. I only own the halfway-empty cardboard boxes of cookies in my kitchen.

o o o

How to Redecorate Your Dormitory!

The Slytherin, Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff, and Gryffindor dormitories may all have centuries worth of history, but that doesn't mean they can't be redecorated. Of course, painting over the walls in bright purple or pink would not be a good idea (especially if word gets out to your Head of House). Who says that you can't put up posters or banners, though?

House Spirit banners are perfect and go with practically anything (yes, even the black-and-yellow Hufflepuff ones), and are also easily made with some basic Transfiguration or scrounging at those cute little shops in Diagon Alley. Posters can be of anything—the enlarged covers of your favorite Teen Witch or Witch Weekly issues, Quidditch (don't lie; we all know that you drool over those boys in Quidditch Weekly.), or just something you think looks good in your dormitory.

With permission from your Head of House and perhaps your roommates, you may even find yourself being able to switch out the bedspread and curtains with new ones—ones that don't look like they're from hundreds of years ago! Make sure they match your new banners and posters, though; clashing colors are just about the worst thing that can happen when decorating.

—Retrieved from the Hufflepuff Common Room, Teen Witch Issue No. 225

o o o

Make her food! Show that you can cook; girls want the best of the best, and what's better than a man that shows skill in the kitchen? Even if it doesn't work out, you'll walk away with a newfound ability sure to impress any girl that comes your way. —Anne T., Portsmouth, England

"The last time you tried to cook, you blew up a pot," Sirius says flatly. "What makes you think you can somehow make ten-tier cakes by yourself or whatever?"

"I'm not making a ten-tier cake alone," James replies. "We, on the other hand, are making biscuits and scones."

"What makes you think you can make those either, Potter?" Marlene asks. "If we're actually doing this and baking things, all I can say is that I'm not eating—or touching, for that matter—anything the four of you are making. It'll taste worse than those vomit-flavored beans."

"I'd like to see you do better," Remus mutters underneath his breath.

"I can and I will," Marlene says. "How hard can it be to bake better than the four of you?"

"Peter has actually baked scones and biscuits before," Remus replies. "Haven't you, Pete?"

"Well, they aren't that good, and my mum makes ones that taste a lot better—"

"Pettigrew, have you baked before or not?" Marlene asks, exasperated.

"Yes," Peter replies, sighing. "I'm really not that good at it, though."

"You'll be better than Potter, Black, and Lupin at it at any rate. We're working together, Pettigrew."

"Oi!" James says. "I'm the one who's supposed to be doing this for Lily, not Peter and you!"

"Yes, and as Black pointed out, you can't cook, and you've also forced us into helping you. Unless you want her to die from either choking or food poisoning after taking one bite, I'm suggesting that we split up; me and Pettigrew together, you, Lupin, and Black, and we'll give Lily the ones that are actually edible."

"Fine," James relents. "Just you wait, though. I'm going to make the best biscuits and scones that have ever been biscuited and sconed."

"Those aren't words, James," Remus says.

o o o

Baking is actually a lot harder than it sounds. Thankfully, Teen Witch had apparently included a recipe for biscuits, and Peter had somehow managed to find his mother's instructions for making scones in his trunk.

Procuring the kitchens from the house-elves had been easy as well; with a combination of begging and promising to not blow anything up this time, the house-elves had reluctantly agreed to hand over part of the kitchens as long as they didn't disrupt their work.

Unfortunately, the recipe in Teen Witch contained more comments on how cute animal-shaped biscuits were and how pretty frosted biscuits with purple sprinkles on them looked than actual instructions, and Marlene was hogging Peter's scone recipe, even as Peter tugged at her sleeve anxiously and wondered aloud if they really needed to read it ten thousand times when he had it memorized.

"Wait, how do you crack an egg?" James asks. "And what does it mean by beating it?"

"With a whisk, Potter," Marlene sighs, rolling her eyes. "Just tap the egg against the bowl—no, not the big one, the small one on the side—and boom. Broken egg, hurrah."

"Like this?" James brings down the egg hard, and pieces of the shell fall into the bowl, while parts of the actual egg land on Sirius's face, and he tries futilely to wipe it off.

"James!" Remus says. "No, not like that."

"James, you'll have to pick out the shell," Peter sighs. "Be careful, you don't want to break it more—oh, come on!"

Apparently, in the ten seconds that Peter had been warning James on what not to do, James had somehow managed not just to break the shell into even smaller pieces, but also knock over the bowl entirely.

Sirius looks over at Peter and Marlene's bowl (well, two bowls; somehow, they've managed to make both the biscuit and scone mix-things already, while Remus, James, and he are still attempting to crack one egg.), and wonders if it's too late to go over to them and leave James and Remus to figure things out by himself (he knows it sounds cruel, but come on, he has egg in his hair. His hair.).

In any other case, he would actually be happy to be Remus's partner, but it seems that his lack of ability in Potions has also carried over to baking. James, as known to everyone, just can't cook at all, and as for himself—considering the fact that he spent his childhood in a house where the house-elves did practically everything, he's lucky just to be able to pour his own juice in the morning.

"Look, James, this is what you do," Peter says, gently tapping the egg onto the bowl before using his hands to pull it apart. "There. I'm not even going to ask you to try it, because you've wasted enough food already."

"Fine," James grumbles. "Now, how do you "beat an egg"? And what's a whisk? It says that it's "like a wand, but more shiny and less useful for casting spells". I didn't think that baking the Muggle way required magic."

"This is a whisk, James," Peter says, holding up a metal thing with loops that looks absolutely nothing like Sirius's wand, not even the fake one he got for Christmas when he was three years old. "You—well, I—usually spin it between my palms quickly to beat it, but just use whatever method you think will work best for you."

"Okay," James says, and starts spinning around the whisk in the small bowl.

"No, James, not that bowl! The other one!" Peter cries.

This continues for a good half hour, with James managing to destroy more ingredients during every step, Remus laughing like an idiot at every mistake, and Sirius trying and failing to pick the drying egg out of his hair (seriously, isn't it supposed to be easier to get dry things out of hair than wet things?), until Peter finally gives up and simply takes over, doing the last few steps of the biscuits and the scones entirely for them.

"Done," Peter says, wiping his hands on his pants. "Now all you have to do is put the trays in the oven and actually bake the scones and biscuits. McKinnon, you already put ours in, right?"

"Sure," Marlene says, rolling her eyes. Seeing Peter's cold stare, though (Sirius will never question the caliber of his "looks" again), she relents. "Fine, fine, I did. It'll probably take a few more minutes before it's done."

Sure enough, less than three minutes later, Peter and Marlene are pulling out two pans of near-perfect biscuits and scones, just barely golden-brown and wafting a smell that reminds Sirius of everything he loves, like trees and chocolate and happiness.

Sirius reaches out to take a scone, but Marlene smacks his hand away.

"You're eating your own, Black. These are mine."

"Oi, I made them!" Peter protests, but Marlene shushes him.

"Besides, we're giving these to Lily. You can eat yours, since I doubt that she would survive if she tried them."

"Ours will be even better than yours, McKinnon—no offense, Pete. Lily will fall in love at the first bite." James crosses his arms, puffing out his chest triumphantly.

"Um, James, what's that smell?" Remus asks. Sirius sniffs the air, and sure enough, just underneath the trees and happiness, he can smell something burning.

"James, how long has it been since you put the trays into the oven?" Peter asks.

"About twenty-something minutes," James replies. "Why?"

"Oh, Merlin," Peter says. "James, it's supposed to be fifteen minutes, tops. Wait, did you use the same oven for both trays?"

"Yes," James replies slowly. "Why? Does it matter?"

"Of course it matters!" Peter says. "They're supposed to be baked at two different temperatures! James, did you even read the recipe?"

"I read it once," Remus replies.

"Oh, Merlin," Peter says again.

Sirius sniffs the air again, but this time, the burning smell is almost overpowering.

"Pete, should we take out the trays right now?" he asks. "Because I think that if we don't, the oven might blow up like it did last time at James's house."

"You didn't take it out yet?" Peter slips his huge oven gloves on quickly, and rushes over to the oven, pulling out the two trays of scones and cookies, blowing fiercely on them.

Peter sets them down on the counter quickly, and with one glance, Sirius can see that it would be a miracle if they were actually edible. Instead of being golden-brown, the scones and biscuits are burned almost black, and most—if not all—of them are misshapen, either large to the point of seeping into the next biscuit or scone (Sirius can barely tell which tray is which) or tiny.

"They probably aren't as bad as they look, right? I mean, you shouldn't judge a book by its cover," James says, picking one up, then instantly dropping it back onto the tray, hissing in pain from the heat.

"Sure, try one, if you don't mind dying," Marlene says.

"They really aren't that bad," James says, but Sirius thinks that he's trying to convince himself more than anyone else. "Lily will love them."

o o o

"Free scones and biscuits!" Sirius calls, and is reminded of the last time they did this; it had been right after the unfortunate kissing booth incident, but instead of giving away baked goods, they had been selling them in an attempt to buy tickets to the Quidditch World Cup (which they still didn't have, since apparently they still needed ten more Galleons to buy four tickets).

"Would you like a scone or a biscuit?" Remus asks a fourth-year, who first looks in disgust at the two trays of burnt biscuits and scones, before her eyes light up and she takes a scone from the tray of perfect baked goods made by Peter and Marlene.

"Evans!" Sirius shouts, catching sight of her long red hair. "Oi, Evans!"

"What, Black?" she asks, turning around.

"Lily!" James cries. "I mean, we have free scones and biscuits. Would you like some?"

"From you?" She cocks an eyebrow, looking down at the trays. "As tempting as it is, I think I'm going to say no. By the way, Potter, if you didn't want to let me keep the puppy, why would you give it to me?"

"A puppy?" James looks confused, and Sirius kicks him under the table. "Oh. The puppy."

"Yes, Potter. Why would you give one to me if you just wanted to take it back afterwards?"

"I didn't take it back!" James protests.

"Really," Evans says flatly. "It just disappeared."

"Well, um, it ran away, so yeah, I guess it did," James replies.

"And it told you that it just decided to run away?"

"Bad move," Marlene whispers to Sirius, a small smile he's come to recognize as the I am enjoying other people's pain very much right now smile over the past year. "Potter's going down."

"Shh," Remus whispers back, apparently having overheard Marlene. "I want to see this. Maybe it will be a repeat of last Valentine's Day."

"I don't think it liked MacDonald's ribbons very much," James says.

"Right," Evans says, her tone still disbelieving. "The puppy ran away because it didn't like the ribbons, and then it went to you and told you all of that."

"Yes," James replies slowly.

"Wonderful," Evans says. "You know, I wouldn't have minded that much that you wanted to take back the puppy if you had just told the truth."

"Um, Evans, do you still want a scone?" Peter asks, holding one way-too-perfect scone out to her.

"Oh. Thank you, Pettigrew. These look delicious," she says, taking it from him, then walking away, leaving behind a gaping James.

"She didn't even try my scones and biscuits," James says glumly.

"Mate, I'm sorry, but I don't think I would do that either," Peter says, looking over at the burnt pastries.

o o o

(And then when they get married Lily finds out about Padfoot and laughs her head off while apologizing repeatedly because everything that James said was actually true and she didn't believe him.)

So, how was it? Once again, I'm really sorry for generally sucking at updating. Feedback, review, favorite, follow?