James moaned in agony as he walked down the stairs for breakfast. He trudged slowly to the kitchen where he could smell breakfast being made. Waffles. With…blueberries? And chicken sausage. Gross. James hated chicken sausage. Ever since Uncle Ron's cholesterol levels were discovered to be higher than Big Ben, the whole family seemed to be on some sort of health kick. If he wanted chicken for breakfast, he would have it fried with an egg, sandwiched between a biscuit. Pork is the only way to go when it came to breakfast links.

"Mum! James isn't wearing any clothes!" Lily complained as James sat down at the table. "Miranda will be down any minute and she's going to see him wearing no clothes. That's embarrassing!"

"You try wearing clothes with this body!" James snapped back. He poked one of his pectorals and watched it as the skin flashed white and faded back into a deep crimson.

Ginny sighed, reached for the cabinet and pulled out a bottle of burn cream. She set the bottle down in front of her son along with a plate of breakfast. James was way off. Whole wheat blueberry muffins, a bowl of grapes and…pork sausage? James took a bite. No. Turkey. Almost as evil as chicken.

"Mum!" Lily whined.

"At least put a shirt on, James," Harry said from behind his paper.

"I'll just wait for it to tan out," James said, poking at the sausage.

Harry folded his paper and gave James that look. That "I'm about to make a serious point that will be hilarious for everyone but you" look. " James, look at your sister, what color is her hair?"

"Red. Like mum's, and practically everyone else in the family," James answered.

"And that will be the closest color to tan you will ever get. Attempts to tan are futile. Just stop trying, please. For all of us. There are only so many lobster, tomato, and other miscellaneous red objects jokes I can think of."