Part Two: In The Other Stall

Peter whipped his thin, pink tail irritably. As the smallest Animagi of the group he had been selected to go on a foraging trip in the Potion professor's supply closet. Not that there had been really much to choose from- either a rat was going to go or a large black dog and the rat was obviously a lot less noticeable. Remus couldn't change into a wolf at will, not to mention the fact that never in his life would he have trotted down the halls of Hogwarts in his were-form. And James? Well aside from the fact that he turned into a stag which would have been even more noted than a dog, James was the whole reason behind this expedition and it was necessary that he not know anything about.

So it was Peter that had to slip into the dungeons late at night. Peter wasn't too pleased; it was cold, it was damp, and to top everything- he was positive that his tail had just fallen off. All this just to brew an illegal potion, Peter grumbled to himself. Although there was the time that the four Marauders had brewed an illegal potion so that they could take on animal forms… Peter decided to disregard that. Why not just lock them in a dorm room and be done with it? After five minutes alone, they'd be shagging each other senseless.

The "they" he was thinking about as he clutched packages of shredded herbs in his tiny paws were Lily Evans and James Potter. James and he were good friends so naturally, he didn't exactly like the idea of brewing a love potion to make him fall for his worst enemy. He liked Lily too. She was a polite, cheerful person who wasn't even afraid of him in his changed form. Of course, she hadn't realized that the rat she had been feeding at the time had been Peter but Peter certainly remembered it. He had thought her perfectly decent ever since and that was a pretty high compliment coming from Peter Pettigrew.

Finally, the job of collecting the ingredients was finished. Peter had possibly never been more happy in his life. One didn't realize how big a closet could be to a rat.

"Holy shiznit, Peter! Could you possibly have taken any longer?" Sirius demanded as he haphazardly ripped open the packages of nicked ingredients and dumped them into the cauldron. "It almost boiled over twice!"

"That's only because you got distracted by flirting with Myrtle," Remus said rolling his eyes sympathetically at Peter.

"Ew," Peter choked. "Sirius, you know she's a ghost right?"

"FOR THE LAST TIME," Sirius snapped with a pointed glare at Remus. "I wasn't flirting with Myrtle!"

The trio were hidden in the girls bathrooms for reasons best known only to Sirius, who had chosen the location. Peter thought this was rather suspicious for him to have chosen Myrtle's home. He barely kept in a snicker- did Sirius have a crush on the annoying little girl? She had been only twelve when she died! Sirius was sixteen! That just seemed wrong.

Remus was having similar thoughts.

"I know what you're thinking," Sirius groaned as he stirred the brew. "And it's not true. Arabella has been snooping around me again and this is the only place I know she won't go. She absolutely despises Moaning Myrtle." Remus and Peter were suddenly looking around the bathroom hastily, wondering why Myrtle hadn't begun to sob yet.

"Oh right, she's not here," Remus said. "She flushed herself down the toilet about half an hour ago after getting mad at Sirius' weird compliment. Said something about she was looking good for a ghost."

"I thought she'd like it," Sirius protested.

"Yes, what girl wouldn't want to hear that said to her?" Peter smiled sarcastically. He dove out of the way as Sirius hurled an empty box of Scilly's Screwt Tails at his head. He reappeared with disheveled blond hair and a grin from behind the toilet. "What? I was only commenting on your charismatic charms!"

Peter narrowly escaped an iron mallet directed towards his nose.

"I always knew Sirius should have taken those free anger management classes," Remus muttered to himself as he sprinkled a nasty smelling powder into the cauldron. Later, Peter and Sirius would remember that Remus had caused the explosion that made their eyebrows fall off and would attack him in the middle of the night.

"I don't understand it," James was complaining the next day. He and his not-so-trustworthy friends were seated around a table in Hogsmeade, downing butterbeers the way Snape threw away shampoo bottles. In other words, there were sixteen empty mugs on the table and Peter was drunkenly motioning Rosie to bring them more.

"What don't you understand, Prongs?" Sirius burped, swaying in his seat. If he had been a cartoon, there would be drunken bubbles popping over his head.

"Who would do something like that to Evans?" James snapped irritably. "I think it's pretty reasonable to wonder considering I got the blame for it!" He fingered his swollen and discolored cheek absentmindedly before grabbing his butterbeer, tipping back his head, and chugging it.

"Who indeed?" Remus said, nudging Sirius who had fallen over and was giggling hysterically. James frowned, wondering what joke he was missing.

"Rosie!" Sirius exclaimed, grabbing the girl and pulling her onto his lap.

"I'm not Rosie, you buffoon," she snapped, pushing her wire-rimmed glasses up her nose. Arabella Figg glared at Sirius through her tangle of brown curls, her iron cast grip on her book turning her knuckles white. "You have to try pretty damn hard to get drunk on non-alcoholic beverages, don't you?"

"Aw Bella, don't be like that," Sirius mumbled, trying to get close enough to Arabella's face for a kiss. She pushed away in disgust. "I'll have you know that there's about a point 00001 percent of alcohol."

"Ugh, I don't even want to think how much you've had," she groaned, climbing off of his lap. "And if you ever try to kiss me again, I'll have your balls for my breakfast."

"Yuck!" Peter and James gaped simultaneously in horrified gross-ness. Remus looked green as he tipped a small vial of bubbling pink goop into James's drink.

Sirius sighed dreamily. "I like her." There really was no accounting for taste.

James had felt funny ever since returning to Hogwarts. He was lying alone in the abandoned Gryffindor common room. Sweat beaded his forehead and he felt a dizzy sensation just behind his eyeballs. Pressing a hand to his stomach, he bolted to the bathroom. He got there just in time to spew the contents of his guts into the toilet, including the remains of the ham he'd had for breakfast. Ew.

"Hey, are you okay Potter?" James wiped his mouth off on his sleeve and looked to the door through which Lily was sticking her head.

"If you're here to give me a matching welt, he might as well leave," he muttered weakly. "I feel bad enough as is." He froze and hunched over the toilet again. Lily winced at some particularly sloppy noises. Some inner conflict appeared on her face and then she slid onto the tiled floor next to James with a look of determination.

"Um, here," Lily said jerkily. She stretched her hand out with a square of white linen embroidered with the initials 'LE'.

"Er… thanks," James answered just as awkwardly. His arm was flung around the back of the toilet bowl and he looked with gratitude towards the redhead. "I think I may have had one too many butterbeers."

"Yes, well, Bella did mention Sirius getting drunk and making a move at her," Lily cleared her throat.

"That's just cause Sirius has a crush on her," James answered, not at all concerned about the revelation of his best friend's greatest secret. He patted his mouth with Lily's hankie. He wrinkled his nose at it- he wouldn't want it back in this condition! "I'll, uh, wash this," he mumbled. Lily nodded silently. The two sixteen-year-olds remained in a companionable sort of quiet, interrupted by James occasional retching. The fact that their peers would eventually return to find the two enemies getting along in a bathroom, of all places, was completely forgotten.

"So…," James said finally. He was still leaning, half asleep, against the toilet. He looked past his glasses, which were askew on his face, at Lily. "Did you really need anything?"

"I-" Lily looked ironically like a deer caught in the headlights. But this time it was by another stag. "Um, that is to say…."

"Yeah?"

"I wanted to apologize," Lily's slight brushing of freckles disappeared in the wave of pink that crossed her face. She carefully avoided looking at his puffy cheek. "I shouldn't have slapped you like that and, uh, I'm sorry."

"Why?" James asked, moving away from his long-time companion Mr. Toilet.

"Huh?"

"I mean, why are you sorry? I don't remember you being sorry about locking me out of the tower in my boxers or turning me into a green parrot or-"

"Okay, I get the point," Lily snapped. Her green eyes glared at him. "Because I did some thinking, you great boobie, and I decided that I wasn't really mad about the kiss and I wouldn't mind it if you kissed me again! Alright? Are you satisfied?" She huffed in embarrassment. James's jaw was dragging on the floor.

"Oh really," he finally drawled once he had recovered himself. A twinkle appeared in his eyes and he rubbed his hands together mischievously. "You wouldn't mind me kissing me again, would you?"

"Oh shut up," Lily grumped, folding her arms defensively. "Don't even think it ,vomit-breath. I certainly don't want you kissing me now."

"Not even if I had a breath mint?" James asked hopefully. He gave her a roguish wink.

"Not even if you had a Wrigley's Breathalizer String Mint," Lily said.

"Worth a try," James shrugged and then he leaned over the toilet and hurled some more.

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