*~Mishap~*

Disclaimer: …*Presses a play button on a yak-back* (remember those?)

I do not own this. I do not own this. I do not own this. Ha! I'm having way too much fun for a disclaimer.

Authors Note: Hmm…this is a revision of the first story I ever put up; formerly known as 'Trouble in Paradise?' I actually came up with the idea with my seemingly whore-like friend, eye-changling. This story is actually going to be quite long, and like MWM it has no plot. Pure, inane, insanity.

For all of you who read Memories We Missed and liked it; I'm back!

For all of you who read Memories We Missed and hated it; run…

For all of you who have * not * read Memories We Missed, well then…you lucky, untainted, soul.

I should shut up, but…: Remember Cimorene? Yeah, she's back. This is like a prelude to MWM….wait, no. Is MWM an epilogue to this? I dunno…

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~~~ I don't suffer from insanity, I enjoy every minute of it~~~

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It started out as an innocent game of toss the dungbomb.

Of course, James and Sirius were always innocent; with women, with school, and life in general, one could say that they were entirely too innocent. Especially when no one can bag the miscreant who wrote obscenities all over the back of Severus Snape's robes.

Weaving in and out of the library shelves, zipping past students, jumping over tables just to catch the dungbomb.

That was due to go off in promptly 60 seconds.

"Catch!!" James, his glasses long forgotten on the floor somewhere due to his mad dash, blindly chucked the hazardous objectile in the general direction of his buddy Padfoot.

Having to stop completely to catch the little, brown, message from hell, Sirius finally also caught a scent of the thing.

"Eck…this is starting to really reek. Let's ditch it, now." By that time, James had joined him, waving a hand in front of his face to dislodge the putrid smell.

"Let me." Prongs held out his hand, his fingers eagerly twitching to throw it away. Who knew? It could hit Snape, or…

Maybe if I hit Evans, she'll go out with me.

Try maybe not, you mope.

At least she'll notice me.

She does notice you, directing all her bottled up anger towards you. Poor her.

Hey! You're my conscience! How about siding with me for a change!!

Ignoramus…

James shook his head, messing up his shock of black hair to an even more wild entanglement. Okay, so maybe randomly giving someone in the library a nasty dungbomb that will severely ruin their day (possibly life,) by covering them with it's own self-emanating sewage stench wasn't as good of a plan as he thought it was when Sirius filled him in on the details.

Feeling the bomb in his hand, he held it back out to Sirius, "Here mate, I…change my mind. Have a go."

Padfoot looked at the smelly time bomb that was being offered to him like a Christmas present with sudden awe. 'I don't want that to go off near me! The stench will stick in my hair!!!' (A/N: Er…) Wildly, he shoved it back to James.

"No way. Take it. Get rid of it."

"Uh-uh. You." James shoved it back.

"Take it! Consider it a gift!"

"Consider it a wedding dowry!"

"Hell no! Take it!" By now, both of the boys were frantically pushing each other, and the dungbomb was beginning to spew like mad.

Oh crap.

In final desperation, Sirius smacked James's palm, causing the toxic dungbomb to hurtle upwards over the shelf and beyond their sight. Though the first instinct should be to get the hell out of there, both seventh year boys stayed firmly rooted to the ground, straining to hear something in the distance.

Remus, who had witnessed this whole event partially, loudly enounced his presence behind the two with an 'Ahem', only to be muffled by the other two Mauraders through fists, hands, and in James's case, tackling poor Moony and sitting on him.

Seconds later, and as soon as they thought they could breath again, hope was shattered like an expensive china plate.

In the not so far off distance, there was a lingering scream. Scratch that; loud, terrified, not entirely sane-sounding; shrieks, like a wild animal. Laments term, those of a girl. Oh gods.

"Eh…goodbye cruel world. We're dead. Those are chick screams." Sirius said dramatically and bitterly, flicking his hand to show he was already dismissing any woes about it. Even so, the shrieks that grew higher by the second were loud enough to make the Giant Squid keel over and die.

"WE'RE DEAD?! You two did this! Get off me! Get off me I say!" The momentarily forgotten Moony flailed helplessly under James, who sheepishly got up.

Remus, brushing himself off and huffing, "No detention for me this weekend, Hogsmeade. You two dug your own grave." With that, he marched off. Remus acted rather studious and prude during the beginning of the year, but Padfoot and Prongs normally had him converted into a fellow mischievous minion by Halloween. By the end of the year, he was almost running the show.

James and Sirius locked eyes after Moony stormed off, grinning. They were used to this type of thing, now that the initial shock was over. (Though that girl was still freaking out somewhere…Is anyone helping her? Erm…)

"I'm booked on Monday----I was late for charms," James said begrudgingly, as if tardiness wasn't detention worthy, "Tuesday through Thursday as well, but you are too," The teens smirked, coinciding, "Which means that this is your turn. My schedule is full, and Professor Valens is due to find out that it was indeed I who levitated his toupe." Prongs pointed out.

"Yeah, he's judgmental that way (judgmental---ha!). What do you think I'll get? Sunday, most likely." Sirius muttered, hoping it was McGonagall. All you had to do was compliment her * cough * new hair style * cough *, and she immediately softened on you.

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Slowly, Sirius followed the receding wails to the Divination section of the library. Very slowly, as If he were admiring the sites. Yeah right, the only sites Sirius Black liked admiring were considered…naughty and morally wrong in today's society. Any society.

'I've got a visual on the randomly victimized target…'

Stopping at a safe distance, in case if she decided to attack, Sirius watched from a distance for quite some time. The scene…wasn't too approachable.

Apparently, the dungbomb had decided upon a nice cozy nest in the girl's frizzy, wheat-colored hair. Moaning now, she groped at it, trying to get it out of her natural rat's nest. To Padfoot's surprise, no one had come to help her, (By gods----they must of heard her, least gone death!!!) So, cautiously he took a step foreword, and another, until he had caught her hand to stop her from ripping all of her hair out.

'Eck…she smells…it must of already gone off, and her hair is such a poof-ball it's locking all of the smoke inside. What a sorry, sorry, site.'

It was now that our cocky protagonist got a good look at the girl's face, no memories of her name, whatsoever. Well, that is…she wasn't exactly his type.

She had somewhat visible freckles, wing-tipped glasses---that was a no-no, and to top it off, she was glaring at him with utmost animosity with her black eyes. Like he had insulted her whole family, or worse, killed her cat by donating it to some animal-sacrificing weirdo church. Not the kind of look he was used to, being a stretch from the 'I consider the ground you walk on holy' adoring, look a majority of the female population sent in his direction.

Quite a far stretch indeed.

Smoothly covering up his frown, "Here let me help you with that…" He offered her his most charming of charming smiles, and without hesitation stuck his hand in her frizz to find the cause of chaos.

To be honest, he was quite shocked when she resisted. Wildly. As if he had poked the mother of all nerves in her hair.

Tweaked now, the tall boy put her in a 'gentle' headlock, trying to hold her still. Now it was the girl's turn to be surprised; she kicked her legs up and pushed against the library table, sending them hurtling back onto the floor and all of her books and notes into the air.

Rolling around on the floor, Sirius managed to pin her to the ground. Honestly, he didn't know why. But he was going to get that thing out of her hair, and if he would've stopped for a split second, he would realize how stupid both of them looked.

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With her generally stigmatic, apropos, timing, Minerva McGonagall was taking a casual stroll through the library, in dire need of assuage space and reading material. This week, her interest honed to divination; the indirect art. What she got instead, was more along the lines of a traumatizing, amnesiac, experience.

Black, (Ye gads! just his name brought shudders up her spinal chord!) was apparently romancing another student on the library floor! Holy, untainted, educational floor!! Sadly, she was used to the situation at hand when it came to Sirius and James. Yes, Hogwart's current headboy fit in this superseded category as well.

Though every time was more blinding to her pure eyes than the prior.

Retaining her stern placebo that she was well headed for, Minerva drew her wand, "Wingardium Leviosa!"

Soon, Mr. Black found himself dangling upside down ten feet in the air. Recognizing the girl that was being 'romanced' (yeah right) McGonagall almost dropped her wand in shock, though she didn't, her sudden festoon caused Sirius to falter down a three feet in the air, gibbering nonstop.

Sputtering, and setting Sirius down for good on top of the table, " Cimorene---Miss Brenner? I-I…" Reddening in the face now, " I would never have expected such---such folly from you!! Thirty points from Ravenclaw. And detention this weekend." Hazing her laser glare on poor Padfoot now, "and for you too, Mr. Black. Thirty from Gryffindor! I cannot bring myself to say I did not expect this from you," Straitening her posture, she continued warily, "I'd like both of you to report to my office tomorrow at seven a.m., which if you take careful notice is a Hogsmeade Visit." Giving them a final disapproving glance, the overwhelmed Professor turned on her chunky heels, only to freeze once more.

Staring strait ahead, with an exasperated voice now, "And next time, if you dare to make a next time, get a broom closet or something for Pete's sake!" With that, she marched off with ruffled dignity, leaving behind her a very red Cimorene Brenner and a extremely stoic Sirius Black.

Simultaneously, "Drat!" Then, still coinciding, both teens faced each other with death glares, stomping off with mixed emotions spewing in the air and intertwined paths carved with their toxic footprints.

'This is the beginning of the end of my life.'

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A/N: Whaddya think? Yep, I escaped from my shrink.

Cimorene: I'm just going to say this---I DON'T LIKE ANY OF YOU!!!

Sirius: The feeling's mutual. I'm starting to wish that dungbomb hit the slime covered git instead.

Snape: …I really need to send in that restraining order against you krugs!

Murr: Hey! Stop fighting! You're ruining my nonexistent plot!

Everyone: Who the hell are you?

Murr: I'M YOUR MESSIAH! * dead silence * Umm…nevermind, just nevermind.

Sirius: Okay…That was Sundance worthy. (Lol, ktb)