Chapter 11:
Eggs, Ketchup, Marshmallow and Parsley
Disclaimer: Not mine! Nope, it's not! It's, um, well, it's that lady who wrote it first. You know... That, uh, author. Sorry, Summer Vacation wrecks havoc with my memory...
Beep, beep, beep-beep-beep. Six o'clock in the morning. My alarm was going off, with its usual shrill call.
I sat up, stretched, ready to face an exciting day. The first day of take over of week! I had jumped out of bed, and was half way across the floor towards the loo when I remembered last night.
Potter. I gnashed my teeth furiously. What a jerk! How could I forgive his rudeness, and his insults, and his overbearing, filthy, infuriating, horrendous attitude? Ooo, I was mad! Can you tell that I was a wee bit peeved?
I would not admit how much our argument the night before had hurt me, though. We had never been so mean to each other. I could take teases, and friendly spats, but not an argument like that.
I tried to force out the memory of the tense night I had after leaving the party. I tried not to remember how long I had sat, curled on my bed, crying, wishing that someone would come up to the dormitory, so that I would not be alone in my misery over Potter.
It was useless, though, for me to try and force my self to forget how hurt my pride had been. I was unable, too, to drive from my mind the hatred for Potter which was coursing through my brain.
And now we had to spend a week together in charge of the school! What had seemed, two days ago, to be a lovely, exciting seven days, now stretched ahead of me in my mind, as a black desolate, and never-ending road of torture.
My mind was as dark and bleak as the clouds outside my window, as I sunk to the floor, and curled myself into a ball, wishing I could just melt into the carpet, and never have to face Potter again.
He thought I ruined everything! I was a loser in his mind! He had told me was stupid! My heart throbbed with anger and sadness. How could he think that I had ruined everything? He was the one who was so despicable!
"YOU'RE THE STUPIDEST PERSON I EVER MET!" I let out a quiet gasp of emotion as Potter's words reverberated in my mind. He sounded like an upset toddler!
And---wait! That was it! He was an immature prat. I had to remember that, and store that knowledge away deep inside of me. I couldn't let his insults get to me. And I could never stoop to his level. I had to be above Potter. I had to be stronger than him. And I was.
I made up my mind to never again let myself be angered by Potter. After all, he was an immature, and unskillful little boy. He deserved no anger from me, only professional pity.
I got to my feet slowly, but with forced dignity. I strode into the shower and turned the water on.
Three seconds later I jumped back out of the shower. Maybe I should try taking off my clothes first.
Lily shnookums?
Call me that again, Sirius, and I swear I'll hex your eyebrows off.
Sheesh, sorry. But you should have seen your face. Ah, that was priceless! I was just wondering when you were going to get back the star of the story.
And that would be?
Me, duh. With my stunning good looks, witty charm, and breathtaking coolitude I automatically assumed, correctly of course, that you were really telling a story about how peachy I was at school.
Coolitude? Peachy? Oh, yeah Padfoot, you totally were the impressive guy at Hogwarts.
Hold on. Is that, no. Was that sarcasm? Whoo, you were so being sarcastic right there. James, you always had the cruelest sense of--- OH MY GOD, IT'S A FLYING SPACE MONKEY!
What? Where?
Huh?
Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha!
Ha, ha. Very funny, Black--- not!
Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha!
Sirius!
Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha!
Black, so help me Merlin, I swear I'm going to shave your toenails off with a rusty spoon if you don't stop that right now!
Fine. Hee, hee, hee! You two are so gullible! That was brilliant! Oh, man, am I good!
Lily, I suggest that we just ignore the cretin for now.
That sounds like an excellent plan James. Now, where were we? Oh, yes. It was, um, and yeah. Kind of lost my train of thought there. James why don't you take over for now. I think that Sirius' crazed antics have made my head hurt.
All right, Lily. So, it was the morning after, dun, dun, duh! THE PARTY! Oh, yeah, and it was also the first day of take over week...
It was with a pounding headache that I awoke on Monday morning. My head felt as though it was being repeatedly hit with a dull ax. The first thought in my head that morning was that Butterbeer and spicy sausages aren't a good mix.
The next thing in my mind, though, was Evans.
Damn her! She was so infuriating! I gnashed my teeth furiously, but stopped quickly when it only my head throb harder. I moaned (quietly) instead. "Uuurgh." Her whole darn attitude last night made me want to scream. And I would have done so, had my ear drums not already been buzzing loudly. It seemed as though an out of tune orchestra of bumblebees had lodged itself in my cranium.
I rolled onto my back and stared morosely at the canopy. When had I ever done something bad to her? What had I done to deserve the horrible treatment that she had given me?
"I hate her," I said vehemently, but very softly so as not to disturb my splitting headache.
"Sorry, Prongs, didn't catch that," said a voice, very loudly, and much to close to me.
Through bleary eyes I looked to my right and saw Remus looking cheerfully at me through the bed hangings. A piercing beam of bright lamplight which blinded my vision, and sent a sharp jab of pain to the back of my head, cut through my tired gaze, as Remus tied the red velvet drapes back to the post.
A large mallet was now playing a loud samba in my head, which was undoubtedly about to sever in two, thanks to my horrendous migraine.
"Feeling all right?" Moony asked, in what I thought was an unnecessarily loud and perky voice.
"I'm going to kill Evans," I replied. Or at least that's what I meant to say. What came out actually sounded distinctly less intelligent.
"Mm gog ill Kevans." Apparently my tongue hadn't caught up with my brain yet. A night of Firewhiskey and pickled eggs can do that to a guy.
"Pardon?" Asked Remus, a bemused expression on his face. "Did you say something in English, or are you speaking from the confusing land of Hangover?"
"You shut up," I replied tersely. Or, as it seemed to Remus, I muttered, "Uz sud ap."
With a large effort I sat up and climbed out of bed. I stood, swaying slightly, and took a step forward.
My left foot, however, was not cooperating. It had contrived to become stuck behind one of my new trainers. I stumbled, whirling my arms madly, striking the hangings with my right arm, and knocking them over my head. I clawed at the fabric, and walked blindly into my dresser. The top two drawers fell out, knocking me, my dress robes and all sixteen pairs of my socks onto the floor.
There was a loud creak, a pause, and the bottom drawer slid out, landing painfully on my stomach.
"It's all Evans' fault," I said bitterly as Remus and Peter untangled me from the mess on the floor. Sirius was unable to help them as he was doubled on his bed, rolling helplessly around in loud fits of laughter.
"Uh," said Wormtail, confusedly. "That doesn't make any sense, James. Lily isn't even in this room."
I glared at him, and picked a large orange sock off my ear.
"I'd, ha, ha, ha, give your, hee, hee, hee, your triple salchow twist a twelve out of, ho, ho, ho, ten!" Gasped Padfoot, now curled in the fetal position, apparently paralyzed with amusement.
Peter looked even more confused, but with an uncertain glance at Sirius, burst into a sycophantical smile and nodded with enthusiasm. "Oh, right. Yep, that, um, thing you did was very, very, um, pretty!"
I looked over in despair at Remus. "This day is going to be horrible! You know, I'm not getting all emotional or anything, but how can I face Evans? She's a prat! A bloody idiot! A freaking little---"
"Beats me," interrupted Moony. "Have you tried ignoring-- Oh, wait, that's what you were trying to do last night when everything went, er, wrong." He rolled his eyes heavenward, as though asking why such a horrible thing had happened to me. Or maybe he was silently mocking my recent escapade through the dorm. It really could have been either one.
"Yeah," I said with disgust. "Everything went wrong last night."
"What about--" began Moony. He shook his head. "Nah, wouldn't work."
"What?"
"You know. Doing what you were doing before, and what you were doing before that."
"Say what?"
"Obviously she's not as--"
"Right, so if--"
"And if you just--"
"You think?"
"Might work."
"WHAT THE BLOODY HELL ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT?" Sirius thundered.
"Dude, you--"
Um, James, small interruption here.
What, Lily? I'm in the middle of a quote right here.
I know, but I think you're remembering this wrong.
Huh? How would you know? You weren't there. Uh, were you?
No. But, see, when we were at Hogwarts no one would have said 'dude'.
We wouldn't have?
Of course not. That term didn't come into vogue until fifteen years after we had graduated.
Oh. Oops. It's a cool word, though.
Be that as it may, it's a colloquial anachronism.
Okay, sorry. I won't use collugeel anach-- Um, akror-- Uh, anata-- Oh, never mind. I won't use words like that again.
Thank you. You many now continue with the story.
I am...
"Man, Sirius, you obviously missed the subtle details of that conversation," said Remus.
"There were subtle details?" I asked with surprise.
"Yes, Prongs, there were." He turned to Sirius. "Padfoot, Prongs here is going to not ignore Evans. He is also, not going to lavish the huge amount of attention on her as he did before Operation Annihilate Frankfurters, or whatever the hell O.A.F. stood for. By treating Lily as though she is of little importance, but without being mean, he will show himself to be the superior life form."
"I will? I thought that we were agreeing that I was going to punch Evans for being so stupid, then Obliviate her memory, and make her date me."
Remus rolled his eyes. He seemed to be doing that a lot lately. I wonder why.
Peter burped sagely, and said seriously. "You know, Remus, James' idea makes more sense. Why don't we do that?"
Sirius jumped onto the floor, still grinning broadly. "Because Prongs won't be able to make as big a fool of himself if he follows his plan."
I threw him a disgusted look. He threw a t-shirt at me.
"Get some clothes on. We're about to miss breakfast. Remember lads," he said, in an uncanny imitation of Slughorn, "We wouldn't want to miss the most important meal of the day, Wot, wot!"
I laughed and got dressed quickly. Even though I tried to force it out, in the back of my mind a dark cloud toward Evans still hovered. It was incredible to me how quickly my deep love for Evans had turned to hatred. The emotions of a teenage mind are a perplexing thing.
On the plus side though, my headache was gone. It must have been knocked out when I rammed into the dresser. I must remember to recommend that particular remedy to Poppy.
We were crossing the Great Hall to the Gryffindor table when I remembered the take over week. Today began the week in which I would have total control of the school! Excellent! Now, if I could just cause mayhem and mischief and prove myself to be a higher life form than Evans my life would be... would be... Oh man. I'm dead.
Evans had just walked into the hall, her red hair shining and a confident smile on her face. She walked with her shoulders back and head held high to the High Table and proceeded to sit in the chair usually occupied by Professor McGonagall.
As she piled her plate full of eggs, sausages and slices of grapefruit, she smiled serenely around that the chattering crowd of students, and her eyes flashed kindly at a first year gaping up at her.
A wave of nervousness and despair rushed over me as I looked up at Evans. The drops of sweat forming on my upper lip, and my fast-beating heart quickly realized what my slow-working brain had missed.
It was impossible for me to hate Evans. It wouldn't even be possible for me to continue to ignore her. She was my one true love, and there was nothing I could do about it.
"Um, Remus," said Peter's voice from behind me. "Is James okay?"
My stupefied brain barely registered Moony's reply. "You mean besides the fact that he's drooling copiously, and singing a song in front of three-quarters of the school about how beautiful red-haired girls are when they eat scrambled eggs with ketchup, and looks like he's been hit in the face with a shovel? Yeah, I think he's okay."
"Oh, good," I heard Peter say. "I thought he might have fallen in love with Evans again, but I guess he's just been put under a Brain-Scrambling Charm."
I was such an idiot.
Mm-hm.
I was so stupid.
Yep. You sure were.
Hey, Padfoot! That's not helping! I was doing just fine berating myself over past stupidities.
Hey, James?
What.
This is boring.
I'm not your personal nanny, Sirius. Go entertain yourself.
Well, I was actually wondering if I could tell the story for a while.
You?
Why not?
Because, um, because, er, because... Well, uh, actually I don't see why not. Lily, you got a problem with Sirius telling the story for a while? No? Good.
Uh, isn't Lily asleep?
Yeah, but we'll pretend that she said yes.
Right on. So, here goes the story of Lily and James' extremely pathetic life told through the eyes of the marvelous Sirius Black. That would be me, by the way...
As James walked stupidly up to sit by Evans I grabbed my wand and began blasting Snape with a few hexes. Nothing too bad, just some Jelly-Legs and a couple of minor illegal curses. But, it's all in a morning's work. Right when I was about to sink my teeth into the oh-so-yummy chocolate steak that the house-elves had sent up for my special breakfast, a small insect appeared on the corner of my plate. It pulled out a ray gun (that's a very special Muggle wand that shoots red flashy lights) and began to fire at the assembled students. Within a few seconds, everyone was unconscious, except for me. Then the bug drew out a large green jelly bean and handed it to me saying---
WHAT! Are you joking? That didn't happen!
Okay, okay, okay, okay! So it was a medium-sized pink jelly bean.
There's no way in H-E-double hockey sticks that this actually happened.
But it's way more interesting my way.
But do we want interesting? No. We want facts. The TRUTH!
You're so boring, James.
No, I'm just terribly in fear of the horrible wrath of the Lilykins.
DON'T CALL ME THAT!
See what I mean? I mean, um, oh--- good you're awake!
How was your nappy, Lily?
Just fine thank you, but I have heard quite enough of your unbelievable inaccurate version of my tale. I will now continue the story...
As I stepped out of the shower and went to pull on my school robes, I realized that I had just discovered one of the perks of being a teacher: you don't have to wear a uniform. Wrapping myself in a towel I rushed back into the dorm, where Bridget was unsuccessfully trying to wake Margaret up.
"Come on, Margaret!" Bridget said, as she pulled Margaret's blankets off her.
"Guess what? Guess what!" I shouted cheerfully. On the other beds I could see our dorm mates Hestia Jones and Marlene McKinnon awaking groggily. Perhaps I had shouted a little too early for six-thirty in the morning.
"What, Lily?" Asked Bridget, sitting resolutely on Margaret's feet. Margaret let out a sleepy moan of frustration, but remained firmly buried under her covers.
"Since we're teaching, we don't have to wear our uniforms! We can wear whatever we want!" I yelled gleefully. I dashed over to my trunk, and began to rummage in it for something to wear.
Margaret sat straight up, knocking Bridget off her bed. "No uniforms? I'm up!"
"Oh, good," I said, rummaging casually through my trunk.
Hmm. Not much to choose from. I gazed morosely into my trunk. I had half a dozen sets of dress robes, twelve dresses, five sets of dress robes, thirteen pairs of pants, twenty blouses, and fifteen pairs of shoes to wear. Let's see. Uh, that gave me 1,404,000 possible outfit combinations to wear. Crap.
Decisions frustrate me. It's so much easier when I came be told what to wear. Choosing outfits takes way too much brain power!
Twenty minutes later I decided on a pair of black dress pants, a vibrant blue blouse, and a pair of black high-heeled boots. With a casual wave of my wand I pulled my thick hair into a tight bun.
I appraised myself in the mirror. Very nice. McGonagall would look so much cooler if she dressed like this.
On my way to the door I pulled on a glossy black satin robe, and threw my bag over my shoulder.
I was ready to face the world. Or school. Or classmates. Or--- something.
Okay, now that was just a lame----
Excuse me Sirius, but are you supposed to be talking?
Oh, a thousand pardons dear lady, I knewst not that the merest movement of mine lips would insult thee so grievously.
Whatever. James, honey, do you want to take up the story from here?
Um--- No.
Yay! That's good! 'Cause I wanted to keep talking! Okay, so I grabbed my-- blah, blah, blah-- ready to face-- blah, blah, blah... Here we are----
As I walked quickly through the halls my mind was so full of excitement and nervousness for my classes, that I scarcely noticed the falling snow outside the windows. I paid little attention to the large drifts which had accumulated next to the panes, nor to the blustery wind which roared outside.
There was only one thing on my mind at that point: Bacon! Oh, man, was I hungry!
Um, sort of.
Okay, so there were two things on my mind. The first was how incredibly hungry I was.
But the second and most important thing on my mind was trying to get down to the Great Hall without killing myself from nerves and anxiety. That took the form of a constant stream of encouragement and advice to myself.
"Good job, Lily. You're doing great. Keep walking. Right foot, left foot. Oops, ignore Filch. Shoulders back, head up. First Year! Smile. Smile. Smile. She's gone. Keep walking. I wonder where-- Nope! We don't think about Him. No reason to worry about little Potter. Right foot, left foot. Here's the Great Hall. Grab the handle, open the door. Breath, breath. Okay. Walk up through the students. Careful, don't trip on the flagstone. Good job. And-- sit."
I quickly piled my plate full of eggs, ketchup, sausage, and grapefruit. Tapping a few last drops of ketchup onto my sausages, I looked up to see a tiny little first year staring up in awe at me.
I smiled kindly down at him. After all, you could never know who would grow up to be your groupie someday. Best to begin cultivating fans early.
Returning to my food I moved quickly through my eggs and sausages, but stiffened when I realized just exactly what fruit I had absent-mindedly put on my plate: Grapefruit.
"Oh, yuck." A vision of Potter wearing a bra with grapefruit tucked in the cups flashed into my mind. I gagged.
No more grapefruit for me.
Ever.
I carefully put the grapefruit back into the bowl and withdrew a plum. Much better. As far as I was aware, Potter had never worn a plum in a girl's undergarment. I hoped.
As I was about to bite into my juicy plum I looked up to see none other than the dislikable Mr. James Potter.
He had a rather hungry look in his eye, and jaw was oddly slack. I couldn't help noticing a small string of drool creeping down the corner of his mouth. Oh man, can that boy ruin an appetite.
Remembering my pledge to prove my superior maturity, however, I quickly straightened up and smiled brightly at Potter.
"Good morning, James. How are you on this pleasant morning?"
"Pretty."
I did a double take. "Excuse me?"
Potter was staring vacantly at me. "You hottie." He drooled. Oh. My. God. James Potter has been transformed into a blabbering lunatic. And he's still in love with me?
Breathe Lily, breathe. Margaret and Bridget will get here soon. Just. Stay. Calm.
"Why thank you James," I said through gritted teeth. "Here." I handed him a napkin. "Use that to wipe your mouth with please."
"Cut eggs for cutie lady?" He wasn't speaking English. There was no possible way that the sounds coming out of his mouth could actually be considered words. Because I don't not want to believe I heard him say what I thought he had spoken.
At that moment though, I was saved from attempting to make conversation by the arrival of Sirius Black.
With a roguish grin he bounced over to Potter, slapping him heartily on the back.
"How's it goin' mate?" Black asked jovially.
Black's appearance seemed to jar Potter back into reality. With a horrified look on his face, he wiped the droll off his mouth, and hurriedly sat straighter in his chair, not looking me in the eye.
"I'm okay, Padfoot," Potter muttered.
I shook my head condescendingly. Boys. They are so stupid! They can be so infuriatingly dense! And then other times you want to kiss him hard! Not that, of course, the latter part applied in anyway whatsoever to Potter. How revolting! No, Potter was purely the former: the I-N-C-R-E-D-I-B-L-Y stupid boy who always made you wonder how he'd actually made it this far in the morning with out his security blanket. I was pulled out of my musings, though, when I heard a loud yell of "Oi, Snivelly!" coming from beside me.
Turning quickly to my right I saw Snape walking past the Head Table. Potter stuck his arm under the table so that Black and myself were the only ones who could see, and with a flip of his wand, tripped Snape.
Snape fall down hard onto the cold flagstones, and the Great Hall erupted with laughter.
"Hey, Sirius," said Potter. "Ask me how my day is now! Because my mood has just severely improved."
I pulled myself to my feet. Snape was already standing too, and had his wand pointed angrily at Potter.
"That's enough, Mr. Snape," I said quickly. I didn't want Potter dead before I could admonish him.
"You can't tell me what to do you filthy Mudblood," Snape growled.
I blinked. "Fine, don't thank me then." I turned back to Potter. "Detention, Mr. Potter!"
He stared open-mouthedly at me. "Wha- wha-!"
"You heard me! Mr. Filch's office! Tonight!"
"Sorry Lilykins," Potter said smoothly, winking at Black, "But you can't give the headmaster detention." He smirked at me, and tried to rumple my hair.
Ducking his hand I quickly regained composure and continued to stare, stony-faced at him.
"Very well, Mr. Potter. Apologize to Mr. Snape. Immediately!"
Potter looked like I'd just slapped him in the face. His lips twitched, and the blood drained from his face.
"Fine," He turned to look down at Snape, who was still glaring at him with loathing. "I apologize for upsetting the delicate internal balance of the love of my life."
I just couldn't take it. I picked up my book-bag, and as gracefully as I could, stormed out of the Great Hall, making sure that I tripped Potter on my way out.
I can only take so much. And somedays, being hearing that you're the love of a slobbering delinquent's life, is too much.
Ha! That was funny!
Well, it wasn't intended to be, Mr. Black.
Oh, well I laughed anyways. Hey, hey, can James tell a bit now? Because if I remember right, his part coming up is even funnier!
I don't mind. Do you want to tell a bit, dear?
Sure, whatever. You know, I'm still sore from when you tripped me...
"Mr., Mr. Potter?" The snot-nosed boy asked me, tremulously, a few minutes after Evans had stormed out of the Great Hall and I had picked myself, and my remaining dignity, off the floor.
"Uh, yeah?" It could never do to be to nice to the shrimpy ones. I mean, the idea was for them to cower in your awesome might, and bow down in respect. Definitely NOT the other way around.
"Professor Dumbledore sent you this. He said you were to, um, attend to it immediately," the kid gulped.
"Thanks. Okay, you're dismissed." I opened the scroll that the first-year had handed to me. In scrolling, looped handwriting it read:
Mr. Potter,
As you are going to be Headmaster this week, you are entitled, and welcome, to use my office. I would strongly advise you to change the password, however. To do so, merely tap the smallest flagstone in front of the door and speak whatever you wish the new password to be.
You're welcome, and good luck.
With all due respect,
Albus Dumbledore
"All right!" I dashed out of the Hall and sprinted toward Dumbledore's office. This was going to be excellent! My own office! The perfect place to plan top-secret pranks! Right on!
Twenty minutes later I was sitting head in hands in front of the entrance to Dumbledore's office, unable to think of a password.
As I watched a storm of snow flying through the air outside, I struggled to make my brain think. Suddenly, a flash of long, vibrant red hair appeared in my mind. Nothing like a little romantic motivation.
I walked up to Dumbledore's door and tapped the smallest flagstone. It was tiny. I mean really, it was more of flag-pebble.
Straightening up I said in a loud voice, "Lily-Evans-is-the-goddess-for-whom-the-stars-shine-and-the-earth-trembles-for-she-is-as-radiant-as-a-setting-sun-over-a-glassy-ocean-and-the-ground-upon-which-gloriously-sexy-body-treads-is-sacred-above-anything-else," I paused. "P.S.-Snivelly-sucks!"
Now that was a truly world-class, kick-a password! I cleared my throat to recite it, so that I could enter my office.
"Lily Evans is a goddess and the stars shine for her, and she's hot, and I hate Snape?" Oh, shit! I'd forgotten it.
Yeah, that sucked. Oh, well. Reseting the password to the much shorter, but still effective, "I love Lily Evans," I bounded up the revolving staircase. It was time to plan some Marauding!
----------
Moonlight shone through the windows, illuminating the cold, snow-covered grounds outside as my fellow Marauders and I snuck down to the kitchens later that night, halfheartedly covered in the Invisibility Cloak.
"James," whispered Peter, pulling his elbow out of my ear, while trying to avoid being stepped on by Remus. It was after all, just a little crammed under the cloak. "I think we've kind of outgrown this thing, don't you?"
I rolled my eyes sarcastically, and tugged the cloak down a little lower so that it would at least hide our shins. "Oh, no, Peter. I think it still covers all four of us splendidly."
"Huh?"
"Forget it," I said, as we tip-toed through the next hallway though, I had a sudden, brilliant realization. Of course for me, I get those every other thought, but you know, it would have been an unexpected flash of genius for anyone else.
I came to a halt and threw the cloak off. Remus turned and looked at me, as though I had gone mad.
"Have you gone mad?" He whispered harshly. Wow. He's pretty predictable.
"No, doofus," I said happily. "I'm the headmaster, remember? And last time I checked, the headmaster was allowed to do whatever he wants! Even--"
Sirius finished the sentence for me. "Even strolling illegally through the corridors at midnight with a bunch of his chums!"
I grinned satisfactorily. "Padfoot, evil minds think alike!" I set off down the hallway again. As I walked I said loudly, "OH, WELL, IT SURE IS A NICE EVENING TO WALK THROUGH THE HALLWAYS! BUT THAT'S OKAY, BECAUSE I CAN DO WHATEVER I WANT, AND NO ONE CAN STOP ME! RIGHT GUYS!" I turned and smiled at my pals.
"RIGHT JAMES," shouted Peter. "WE CAN DO WHATEVER WE WANT, SINCE YOU'RE THE HEADMASTER! I CAN EVEN PICK MY NOSE WITH REMUS' PENCIL AND NO ONE WILL CARE!"
There was a long pause. Some where, a cricket chirped.
"Ookay," Said Moony with a nervous laugh, after several seconds of strained silence in which we all stared, gaping at Wormtail. "Almost to the kitchens?"
"Uh, yeah," Sirius said. "Hey, I have a question: Why does everyone call it the kitchens? I mean there's only one kitchen. What's the deal with that? I mean, we don't call it the Greats Halls!"
Fortunately we were saved from any more of Wormtail's disgusting hygienic habits or Padfoot's idiotic musings, by our arrival at the picture of the fruit bowl. Tickling the pear, I pulled hard on the handle, and led the way into the kitchen. Or kitchens. Which ever you prefer.
I headed over to the head house-elf, Koodle. She was always happy and willing to give us whatever food we wanted, so long as we remembered never, ever, never, ever, ever, never, never, ever, ever, ever, to pay her. House elves don't like money, or salaries or anything. I've never really understood that. Maybe they have a fear of accountants.
Anyway, Koodle immediately began to fill a large basket with the many items on the list I had handed her.
"Planning a new prank, Master Potter, sir?" Asked one of the elves adoringly.
"Um, yes. Actually, I have a feeling that it's going to be one of our greatest pranks ever!" I nodded thoughtfully. That was what I liked about house-elves. You could tell them anything and, if they liked or respected you, they would never tell a soul.
"I think your items is all ready now, Master Potter, sir," squeaked Koodle. "Would you like anything to eat?"
"Sure, thanks. I'll have a cream puff and some fried chicken."
"Bacon platter," called Remus.
"Chocolate cake," answered Peter.
"Two guavas, a handful of fresh parsley, and a jar of marshmallow whip."
Remus, Peter, all of the house elves and myself stopped what we were doing to stare at Sirius. "Padfoot, that is the most disgusting midnight snack I've ever heard of!" Remus said.
Picking up the items that Koodle had just handed him, a look of horror on her tiny face, Sirius smiled. "Well, duh. It would taste terrible if you were going to eat that! But I'm not going to eat that."
I breathed a sigh of relief. "Okay, that's cool. I mean 'cuz that stuff would probably give you wicked indigestion. And man, I do not want you farting up our dormitory. But what are you going to use it--"
Sirius cut me short. "We're out of shampoo, James." I gave him a blank look. "Well, I don't know what you do when you're out of shampoo, but frankly nothing puts shine in my hair like a nice Marshmallow-Parsley lotion!" He gathered his things and headed towards the door.
As we followed him out into the dim corridor, I thought about asking him what the guavas were for. With Padfoot, though, somethings are better left unasked.
A/N: Woohoo! Longest chapter yet! Oh yeah, oh yeah! Don't think that I just sat down and wrote it all today, though. This has been in the works for a long time, and I just put the finishing touches on it today.
For all of you have been asking for romance, I'm sorry for delaying it so long. However... Drum Roll Please... I can tell you that next chapter, FOR SURE, things will definitely start to heat up between Lily and James. I mean, really, what else could you expect from a Headmaster and Headmistress. You think they wouldn't get the hots for each other? Not that I think Dumbledore and McGonagall are getting it on somewhere, though. Just had to make that clear.
Anyway, be patient for chapter eleven. And enjoy the beginnings of summer!