Author's Note (Or Whatever): Blah blah blah cats ate my soul blah blah. Zerlina here, by the way (and by force, because Maria is a slave master).

Disclaimer: If I did, I wouldn't share.

"Good morning, starshine!"

Sirius Black hurled a carefully aimed pillow at the head of one James Potter, who did not bother to duck anymore, after nearly six years of the very same morning ritual. Instead the pillow was deftly caught and successively employed in beating Sirius over the head.

"M'dear Padfoot." A sound smack. "When will you ever learn?"

A muffled "Bugger off" could be heard from the blanket-cocoon, which was surprisingly sedate after having just been assaulted quite viciously by a lump of feathers wielded by its best friend.

"No, really." James stood with hands on hips, though this terrifyingly austere pose was lost on Sirius, who was currently in his Not Looking At You, You Bastard mode. "Get up. You don't want to miss Double-Potions with Slytherins."

"Actually, James, it's quite the opposite. I do want to miss Double-Potions, which, if you'll bring yourself to believe, is more commonly referred to as Hell Too Early In The Morning by the majority of the student body."

"No! No, you don't! At least, not today." James grabbed the nearest lamp and began prodding the prostate form of his friend. "Remember? Tumbling Charm?" A particularly brutal poke, followed by a conspiratorial, "Undergarments?"

Silence reigned as James contemplated turning stag and ruthlessly crushing Sirius beneath his hooves. Then, suddenly—

"Ooooh!" The cocoon unraveled at whirlwind speed, and all James saw of his friend was a flash of black hair as Sirius made a mad dash to the bathroom. Seconds later, he emerged with a toothbrush in his mouth and began searching frantically for his school uniform.

James thought that this must be what a tornado looked like close-up. And on fast forward.

"If you're looking for your tie, Remus transfigured it into a pair of Peter's underwear. He thought it'd be funny. And to get back at you for running off and leaving him alone with Lily last night, though I don't see any reason to complain about that, the lucky bastard."

An unintelligible reply.

"For your information, my mum has never come within five feet of—"

Sirius threw a mock glare in his direction before removing his toothbrush and stating, with staggering finality, "You. Are an idiot. And why didn't Remus do anything to you?" He took a deep breath and readied himself for the Venture Into Peter's Dirty Laundry.

"He supposed Lily would take care of that."

"Ha," said Sirius from the midst of a haphazard pile of Peter's clothes. "Too true. You are so whipped, Prongs."

"Shut up."

"And you're scared to go down to the Great Hall yourself because Evans might ambush you and behead you on the spot."

"Sirius—"

"Or, better yet, she might turn into a ferocious man-eating tiger and devour you whole. You never know with girls. It might be a kink of hers."

"Listen to me, Black—"

"No, wait. I got it! She'll pull one of those Muggle monster trug things out of her back pocket and run you over with it!"

"Firstly, it's called a 'truck,' and secondly, that defies all the laws of logic."

"Bugger logic! It's never done me any good."

"Sirius, mate, much as I would love to continue this intellectually-stimulating conversation with you, my need for food overpowers everything else at the moment."

And in true-Black fashion, the other boy ignored him. "I don't see why it wouldn't work, anyway. I mean, she minimizes the trug-lug-bug-whatever with magic and when she sees her target—that'll be you here, Jamsie—BAM! Back to its original size. Then all she has to do is—"

"I'm just slightly concerned that you of all people are planning my imminent doom in such meticulous detail."

Sirius waved away the remark. "Then all she has to do is get in, start the, uh, you know, enger thinger and that," he smiled sweetly, "Will be the end of you, dear Prongs. But don't worry. I'll be sure to give you a decent funeral, complete with dung bombs going off in the middle of everyone giving their obligatory eulogies on what a great person you were (even though you were—I mean—are a right bastard, just so you know) and wet-start-fireworks shooting into the air while you're being lowered into the ground for all of eternity."

James took a moment to absorb the utter rubbish that his presumably best friend had just spewed with not so much as a blink while slinging discarded clothes over his shoulder. "No." He paused and started again. "No, because you would valiantly jump in front of the oncoming vehicle, flailing your arms wildly, and saving me from such a dishonorable death."

Sirius nodded sagely, but did not stop in his task.

"AND," said James, "To prove you wrong yet again, my friend, I will now journey down to the Great Hall, braving any dangers that may come my way. Alone."

Sirius snorted.

"That's illegal, you know. I'll have to tell McGonagall that you're ingesting illegal substances again."

"You used to be funny. Now you're just not."

James turned to exit the dormitory. "Padfoot, I was never funny. You just found ways to laugh at me."

"That's more of an insult to you than anything, Prongs."

An obscene gesture from the bespectacled boy concluded their conversation and Sirius was left to decide which one of Peter's undergarments he should tie around his neck.

Sirius entered the Great Hall with precisely seventeen minutes left for breakfast. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Lily stumble with the forkful of eggs that were en route to her mouth, as she stared disbelievingly at him. Sirius grinned his patented Black grin and made his way over to his usual seat, winking lecherously at the Slytherin table as he passed.

"Padfoot. Just when I thought your stupidity had finally resigned itself to randomly steering you into brick walls, you pull something like this, and any standards I have set for you fall dead at my feet."

"Moony, Moony, Moony. This is completely your fault, you realize?"

"Insufferable," was the only response.

"Excellent work, Padfoot. Beautiful workmanship."

"Why, thank you, Prongs. I thought so myself."

James laughed. "How long will the charm last?"

"About six hours, if I did it right."

"And how long did it take you to do?"

Sirius harrumphed. "Too bloody long." He turned to a shell-shocked Peter. "Pete, I do hope you don't mind. But you have Remus to blame for this, remember."

"I didn't intend for you to stitch his underwear together, charm them red and gold, and string them around your neck!"

"But it was quicker than trying to find my tie, which, if you'll recall, you transfigured!"

Remus shook his head but tried valiantly not to hurl the jug of pumpkin juice across the table at a too-smug Sirius.

"Ohmm, bwimey! Iffs eight forty!" James pushed away from the table, splattering Remus's shoulder with bacon rinds.

Sirius looked up in alarm, a familiar mischievous glint rising in his grey eyes as he ran his hand anxiously up and down his underwear-tie. A wicked smile crept onto his face.

"Hehe, lads, let's get a move on now, shall we?" he cackled. "Wouldn't want to miss Double-Potions."

Remus frowned slightly, dabbing his collarbone with a napkin.

Sirius's grin broadened. "Aw, now Moony-woony, don't act so ungrateful. Professor Slughorn is a wonderful teacher. Absolutely fantastic. Some would give their pants to be in his class." He caught James's eye and the two guffawed at his wit.

Across the table, Lily's eyes narrowed at the mention of the word "pants." Putting two and two together, she made a motion as to get up from the table and begin walking their direction. Sensing danger, James and Sirius bolted from the Great Hall. Lily Evans walking in the direction of James voluntarily was never a good omen.

Lily smirked as James turned his head back instinctively and watched as he fought an internal battle, his survival instincts telling him to run and his Gryffindor pride demanding that he stand his ground and die—no, wrong word—fight like a man.

But testosterone failed him as he shot a final defiant glare in Lily's direction and ran like a three-eyed newt from a Potions master, praying to whatever Powers That Be to preserve his existence at least until he reached twenty, please, because he enjoyed living, really he did, and he enjoyed not being disemboweled even more.

Remus sighed as he and Peter followed their two friends into what he could only see as Certain Doom.