Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.

A/N: I'm a horrible person for leaving you hanging after the way the last chapter ended, but the new chapter is being an absolute bitch to write, and won't ready for another few days. Bits of this interlude came from a conversation I had with my sister, who pointed out that Lily, Severus et al. would have at least known about punk. I couldn't get the image of Severus as a punk out my head, and I had to write it. This will be the last look inside James' head for a while, because it's gotten to be a rather scary place, at least in the main story. I would also like to thank my wonderful new beta, Dylan S. Thompson.

Mad-Eye Moody paced up and down the line of new recruits, glaring. James' eyes flicked over his fellow trainee Aurors as well and nearly sniggered out loud. What was Snape wearing? He looked again and could barely restrain a gasp; was that a safety pin through his eyebrow? His eyes snapped to a random point on the ceiling as Moody began to speak.

"I am disgusted!You were asked, not unreasonably, to dress as Muggles," he glanced contemptuously at them. "I have looked, considering every possible permutation of fashion, and there is no excuse!" He pointed accusingly at Frank Longbottom, a rather inoffensive Gryffindor a year above James in school. "You! Tell me just what the hell you think you're wearing!"

Frank, who was wearing a long yellow raincoat and dark green boots, flinched. "M-M-Muggle clothing?" he asked hopefully, his eyes wide.

Moody shook his head despairingly. "That, Mr. Longbottom, is a Muggle rain slicker. It is meant, unsurprisingly, to be worn in the rain. Is it raining, Mr. Longbottom?"

Red-faced, Frank murmured, "No."

"Speak up," Moody snapped.

"No!" Frank repeated, staring at the floor in shame.

Moody nodded approvingly. "At least you realize you've done something wrong, unlike a certain smirking individual." He turned to James, who had indeed been indulging in a smirk, and asked, "Tell me, Mr. Potter; why are you wearing a business suit?"

James had no idea what was wrong with it. "Because my father says it's what he wears when he has to look Muggle." He looked Moody in the eye, "May I ask what's wrong with it?"

Moody began to smile slightly. "You've got nerve; that's good in an Auror." The grin vanished. "It is not, however, good in a trainee. You will call me 'Sir' from now on."

James nodded. "Yes, Sir."

"As for what's wrong with that suit: more than I care to tell you. Let it be sufficient to say that you are far too young to wear a suit, and leave it at that."

Moody stepped back, and swept his gaze over the recruits again. "There are only two of you who would pass for a Muggle and not raise suspicion. Ms. Evans and Mr. Snape, would you step forward?"

They did, and James, face still burning from being so casually humiliated, glowered. Snape was better dressed than him? In that get-up? It was palpably unjust. He looked over at Lily; she was wearing a skirt that showed far too much leg. He'd have to tell her not to wear it again; he didn't like the way Snivellus was looking at her. Moody coughed pointedly, and James returned his attention to him.

Moody waved his hand vaguely at the four on display. "These are real Muggle clothes. They are age-appropriate, they are weather-appropriate, and they are popular; they will not raise any eyebrows. Look at Ms. Evans." They did, and Snape wasn't the only one whose eyes were glazed with lust. "This is what a well-dressed young woman wears these days."

Alice Device raised her hand tentatively. "But isn't it terribly immodest?"

Moody gave her a brief smile. "A well-raised young witch might think so, but, actually, that is a surprisingly long skirt for a muggle. I'm afraid that you will have to learn to wear such things, or even trousers." Lily smiled nervously, tugging at the hem of her skirt, but Moody had moved on. "This, ladies and gentlemen, is an absolutely perfect Muggle outfit." He indicated Snape, who was grinning slightly. "Look at the leather trousers, look at the boots, and above all, look at the safety-pins." James looked, and grimaced slightly. Moody continued. "Mr. Snape, are you a Muggle-born?"

Snape stood up straighter. "No, sir. I'm a half-blood."

"He's a disgrace to Slytherin!"

Moody turned. "And why do you say that, Mr. Malfoy?" he asked quietly.

"Because he's a filthy mudblood! Scum like him shouldn't be allowed at Hogwarts," Malfoy declared, eyes shooting daggers at Snape.

"That will be enough, Mr. Malfoy. You are dismissed from service, and may leave. As I was about to say, Mr. Snape: congratulations. You could easily pass as part of the punk 'scene'."

Snape blushed slightly, and looked sheepish. "Actually sir, I am part of it."

Lily turned and looked at him with far too admiring a look on her face for James' taste.

Moody, sighed. "Kids," he grumbled, rolling his eyes.

"Slytherins," James shrugged. He'd never understand them.