A/N: Finally...Why is comedy always the hardest thing to write? I'm sorry this took so long, but I didn't want to just churn this story out for the sake of it, I wanted to keep it funny, and to do that requires a lot of concentration and a mood for humour which I sadly haven't had for months. Now I am in the mood I am giving you as long a length chapters as I can!

Note: The lyrics quoted in this chapter and following chapters belong to various classy 60's and 70's Muggle bands, and the usual disclaimer applies – I declare no profit is being made from my use of their lyrics in my fic, etc.

Chapter Fourteen.

Naff

Lupin watched Lily, a slight frown crossing his face.

"Would like to, you know, tell me about it, or what Nigel said?" he enquired softly.

Lily took in a calming breath and looked up, giving her best reassuring smile. "Thank you Remus, sweetheart, but no – I can handle this just fine."

"But he must have said something to upset-"

"Well, if he did, I just said I can handle it fine on my own, okay?!" returned Lily quickly, a flush of colour returning to her cheeks.

Remus abruptly closed his mouth. With Lily, secrets she wanted to stay secret, would, and with her temper, you just had to respect this.

The witch noticed the slightly hurt look on her friend's face, and gave an apologetic smile. "But I'll think I might just need a bit of help with sorting out the boys upstairs in a few minutes..."

Lupin began to smile, but quickly stopped when he noticed the smile slip from Lily's face.

The boys! Severus, James and Spencer!

Jaws falling open at the same time, they both went for the stairs at the same time, and it was only by a minor miracle that Lily missed putting a stiletto heel on one of Lupin's feet in the scramble.

Sirius Black was not amused.

He and Nigel had menaced the late night nibblers helping themselves to food in the dining room, glowered out into the conservatory, poked their noses into the living room, and barged past the sport enthusiasts in the study. Sirius had even stuck his head behind the magical false wall in the broom cupboard, but without luck. And now even Lupin and Lily had "mysteriously disappeared" after lying to him about the whereabouts of Snape...And this, he decided, was even more annoying than having over a dozen girls stare at you when you walk into a room. (And to make it worse, they'd gone red and started giggling amongst themselves when he had tried to question them.)

Sirius narrowed his eyes. Women. They were all the same – a few wines down their necks and skwark bloody skwark, they were about as graceful as flock of pissed parrots falling out a tree.

Beside him Nigel was simmering with pent up annoyance. "Where we off to next then, Black? Where do you reckon the Slimeball would be hiding?"

"Probably slithered down some crack somewhere. Moony's such a bloody bore sometimes – I told him to relax, have a few drinks, but I know he hardly ever does. Why did he have to lie!"

"I take it the Potters aren't used to having Slytherins as party guests then?" remarked Nigel coolly, looking at the Gryffindor's slightly reddened face.

Black faked an angelic smile. "Let's just say that if I were Snivellus I wouldn't wish to be around long enough for James to sober up and find him," he growled darkly. "Or this he might find a second flipping will result in more than just his clothes getting stripped off..."

Nigel let a wry smile curl his lip. "Well, he must be a rather dim wizard then, as I'm sure by the way he was acting toward Mrs Potter, he has some business with her. I believe he's still in this house, and I also believe he won't leave until he gets her alone."

"Fan – bloody – tastic," growled Black. "That's all I need to hear. From the day she got put with him in Potions she always stood up for him – turning a blind eye when he hexed our potions, even after she starting seeing James! He hated it – flipping hell - I hated it!"

The other man's expression hardened considerably as he turned to look at the Gryffindor, his eyes as cold as Verdite gem. "I know you did, Black."

Black looked back with a quizzical expression, but before he could question the man's odd comment a dull thud sounded immediately above them. They both looked up.

People. Upstairs...

Perks whistled to himself cheerfully as he flipped through the Potter's record collection. Picking several out he carried them over to the player and lay them in a pile by the side of the turntable. As if by magic (and funnily enough it was) the LPs slid themselves from their paper sleeves and began to automatically line themselves up in order of play. As the first LP hissed into action, the dulcet tones of The Sweet began to pound out...

As Perks walked back into the kitchen he noticed Andy grin, his eyes lighting up... Of course, he knew every word...

Are you ready, Steve? Uh-huh.

Andy? Yeah!

Mick? Okay.

Alright, fellas, let's GOOOOOOO!

Rookley looked disbelievingly across at the Muggleborns and half-bloods, half of whom had begun to dance erratically, or sway drunkenly. And then, horror upon horrors, they began to sing along with Bell...

OOOH YEAH, it was like lightning, everybody was frightening!

And the music was soothing, and they all started grooving!

OOOHH YEAH! YEAH! YEAH! YEAH! YEAH!!!

After about the eightieth time "IT'S, IT'S A BALLROOM BLITZ! IT'S IT'S A BALLROOM BLITZ!" had been enthusiastically shrieked across the kitchen and the next track was underway, Rookley turned to the person next to him, frowning. "I just can't believe people like that stuff. What sort of song sings about the red-eyed man at the back ordering everyone to attack, and a girl killing you with "a wink of her eye." Sounds like a sick Death Eater's song to me!"

Bell overheard and turned, laughing. "Rubbish – that's really upbeat stuff, Rookley. You'd change your classification of naff music if you heard us singing, Ra-Ra-rasputin, lover of the Russian Queen!" Noting the few blank stares around him, he sighed, going on to explain, "Boney-M. They're a brill Muggle band!"

Bones frowned. "Boney M? That's a wizard band, isn't it?"

Bell's eyebrows creased. "No. Muggle. Pretty sure they're Muggle."

"Well, I never...!"

"Ain't no sunshine when he's gone," murmured Sharpe, correcting his aim over the toilet bowl. Belching quietly under his breath he leaned over more, putting one hand on the wall to steady himself.

"It's not warm when he's away...no-oo, ay-y..."

After flushing the chain, and checking the mirror again he glanced around the bathroom. His throat and mouth were burning and his stomach was beginning to growl rather painfully. As was typical of Sod's law, he was carrying a vial of pepper-up potion, one restorative, one cleansing potion, one invisibility, one sleeping potion, and one dish-washing draught of his own invention, (don't ask) but no indigestion potion! He could put up with a headache, but not indigestion. He'd always suffered from it – especially after having a short nap after food. But tonight he'd forgotten to bring one with him...

He groaned as he imagined a revolting mush of soggy crisps floating around in a stomach full of Firewhiskey and blackcurrant... Merlin - no wonder his stomach was complaining!

He looked toward the Potters' medicine cabinet. Maybe Lily had something he could borrow?

He clicked open the door, and set his eyes scanning across the line of potion bottles randomly jumbled with Muggle packets, tubes and tubs, several rows deep. He saw they had a few of the same potions he had on him already plus more; Zit-ease, Ulcer salve, Sir Aye Azziz's Magical Rash Remover, Scurf's balsam, eye-drops, cough potion, several hair treatments, a rather dusty Muggle tub of hair gel stacked on top of a dusty magical pot of rainbow hair gel, a few cotton buds and a hair grip. Sharpe sighed – it was obvious the Potters didn't have any indigestion potion either. They probably didn't suffer from it.

He moved back and went to shut the cupboard door, but paused as his stomach growled horribly again. Maybe they had the Muggle counterpart?

He began to search more thoroughly, this time taking the packets and tubs off the shelf to read them. Muggles were truly fascinating; instead of potions, they seemed to use a lot of dry pill type things that looked and smelt like chalk. Most of the instructions told them to take one or two with water, and not to exceed the stated dose.

Fascinating.

Ah – there! His eye caught sight of the word "indigestion" – but typically it was right at the back! Sharpe took care to pull the packet out without knocking any others over, but it was a near impossible task. He grumbled as several pots and potions tumbled to the floor, to his chagrin a couple of pots burst open, sending the little pills pinging everywhere.

"Oh...naff it all..." he muttered. (If only the house didn't have that dratted anti-hex on it, he would have been able to sort the cabinet and avoid making such a mess!)

Finally he had the prized tub of "Rennies" in his hand. First scanning the instructions he wasted little time after in crunching up a tablet, which unsurprisingly tasted like chalk.

He frowned. Maybe it was chalk?

A/N: Next Chapter should also be up – I've uploaded them at the same time!