Author's Note: Hello, Maria speaking. I would like to apologize profuselyfor not creating the Potions scene, but I'm really not allowed to, so instead I humbly apologize for not being able to apologize profusely, something I really shouldn't be apologizing for, so if you're even remotely aware of what's going on (which I'm happy to say that I'm not), you may now proceed to the actual chapter.
Disclaimer: Beh.
Hey Prongs—what are these tubular contraptions?"
Madam Rosmerta had returned with their requested butterbeers and a cylindrical can of long, thin, and brightly colored tubes.
"Well, Padfoot. Er, these deceptively simple devices are used to—uh." James lowered his voice to a whisper, as Madame Rosmerta was only five feet away. "You know." He waggled his eyebrows.
Sirius's eyes widened. "Really?" He picked one up and frowned at it. "But they're so flimsy." He twirled it around. "And the hole's so… big," he said incredulously.
"Very inventive, James." Remus said, rolling his eyes.
"I don't get it," Peter said worriedly.
"You don't get it, Wormtail. But perhaps Moony here would like to demonstrate."
Remus huffed at them, grabbed a straw impatiently and plopped it into his butterbeer. He gave the other boys a Look and began to suck on it pointedly.
James and Sirius leaned forward and gaped in horror.
"Remus!" they exclaimed simultaneously. They had no idea Remus had swayed in that direction.
"Who's the lucky man?" asked Sirius, recovering first.
"And when do we get to meet him," added James conspiratorially.
Remus sighed. He had often found himself in situations as equally hopeless before.
A thoroughly horrified Peter had finally grasped the concept and toppled out of his chair. Exasperated, Remus harrumphed indignantly and proceeded to explain the precise mechanics of a Muggle drinking straw.
"Muggles," breathed the other three in awe.
A sudden stroke of genius ran a victory lap around Sirius's brain. He reached for the container and pulled out an orange straw triumphantly.
"Hey Prongs, it's you!" He ceremoniously dunked the orange straw into his butterbeer. James eyed him suspiciously but did not say a word. He was all too familiar with Sirius's brilliant epiphanies and had concluded not to further inspire him.
Sirius looked around and spotted a green straw. "Ooh! Evans!" he proclaimed excitedly. He grabbed it. "And this is what will never happen." He shot a sympathetic look at James and dropped the straw next to the orange one.
Peter gasped. "Are they in a bathtub?"
"You're catching on!" Sirius smirked.
James reached over and took a swipe at the head of his Best friend Turned Mortal Enemy (For Life). Sirius easily dodged the blow, but rammed his forehead into the table in the process.
"K.O.!" James victoriously awarded himself a high-five.
Sirius rubbed his head but grinned deviously. "You know, Prongs? I think I consider myself more of a realist." He carefully selected a crusty-yellow straw and replaced the Evans straw. "Ahh, that's better."
James elegantly raised an eyebrow, while reaching for his own butterbeer. "And who might that be..?"
Sirius flashed him a toothy grin. "Why, your bride-to-be, Snivellus, of course!"
James gagged on the butterbeer he had just ingested. The fluid came rushing out of his nose and tears blurred his bulging eyes. ("You look like a toad," Remus offered.)
"Why, what a gorgeous shade of puce you have turned," Sirius said, "it would clash nicely with your future fiancé's nails." Sirius's eyes brightened at a newly-occurred thought.
"And let's throw in Moony as a wedding present!" Sirius added in a lightly colored purple straw. "God knows, he needs to get some."
Remus frowned and asked curiously, "Why am I purple, pray tell?"
"Why, it symbolizes your deviant lifestyle, as you shamelessly flaunted before. Oh, and it's lilac, not purple."
"K.O.!" James cried once again, throwing his arms in the air.
"In case you haven't noticed, you prat, we're in this together," Remus stated, "Quite literally, in fact."
"Game over," James intoned sadly. Sirius sniggered.
"When have you found the time to play Muggle video games anyway, Prongs?" Remus asked pleasantly.
"I've taken a liking to a certain, er, pumbler—("Plumber," Remus corrected)—with a large moustache. His weapons are biodegradable; plenty of mushrooms and turnips to swing about."
"Turnips are most certainly more proficient as weapons of mass destruction than as food," Sirius said brightly.
"I like turnips!" Peter protested.
"Yeah, along with crackers slathered in Bull Patty Cream™," said Sirius seriously.
"That never happened!" Peter cried in a panic, remembering incident quite vividly.
"Ah, but Moony's Muggle camcorder begs to differ," said James.
"Speaking of camcorders, one would have definitely been handy this morning," said Sirius, smiling wistfully.
"Hah! Did you see the look on Slughorn's face? He was livid!"
"Same could have been said for you, dearest Prongs, had Snivellus knocked a Shrinking Potion into your lap, arse-first." The friends all broke into laughter at this very memory. This particular memory was definitely worth the five weeks of detentions they had received as punishment.
Sirius choked, tears spilling into his lap. "I believe a toast is in order!"
The other three nodded in gleeful unison, and shouted, "Bottoms up!", clinked their cups, but could not even bring them to their mouths, for the image of the Slytherins tumbling around the dungeons, suspended by their posteriors had popped into each perpetrator's mind and they could no longer control their mirth.
"Oh! That reminds me!" James cried all of a sudden, startling the gay atmosphere. He rummaged around in his cloak pockets. Sirius leaned closer to his friend curiously.
"Aha!" James whipped out a tiny bottle, catching Sirius in the eye with his elbow.
"Ah!" cried a doubly injured Sirius, but no one was paying attention to him anymore. They were gaping at the little bottle in James's hand.
A wave of awe had settled itself over their booth.
Peter's eyes shivered. "That's…"
"…Not good," finished Remus weakly.
Sirius looked turned his undamaged eye to the bottle and squinted up at it. The eye widened twofold.
"This is definitely not good, James!" James looked slightly put off.
"This is fantastic!"
James offered a relieved grin. "You scared me for a second there, Padfoot."
"Are you mental, Prongs? Wow…" Sirius breathed, "Voldy's Vaporous Vodka… I've been trying to get my hands on that stuff for ages! No one sells it!"
"Because it's forbidden, you arse-mittens! Put it away!" Remus hissed. James retracted his hand back into his cloak with a poorly concealed grin.
"Wow, James," Peter squeaked, obviously impressed, "where did you get it?"
"Well, my pa had thi—"
"It doesn't matter where or how he got it!" Remus interrupted, "Because James wasn't really thinking of sharing it, or drinking it himself, for that matter!"
James and Sirius provided him with exceptionally dubious looks. "Pardon?" Sirius asked with mock politeness.
"If we get caught with that, our only hopes of remaining here at Hogwarts would be to apply as House Elves." He breathed the last two words angrily.
Sirius looked scandalized. "Surely you jest!"
Remus felt somewhat relieved. Perhaps Sirius had some morals after all. "No, it's true," Remus said with feigned regret.
"I don't care if it's true or not!" Sirius cried indignantly. His tears lost their cheerfulness. "Remus John Lupin, you have no idea how brutal a blow you just issued a dear friend of yours, whom, might I add, you have just lost!" With that, he pushed his chair back and ran out of the pub wailing. The Three Broomsticks fell awkwardly silent.
Remus's jaw dropped and he turned to an equally shocked Peter and James.
"Was it something I said?"
"Must've been the bit about getting caught," James offered, "Sirius believes that he could get away with anything if he truly wants to."
"But this is serious…"
"So is he." James guffawed at his timely pun.
"Will he be okay, do you think?" Peter asked worriedly.
James brushed him off impatiently. "Of course. Give him fifteen more seconds."
Quite punctually, Sirius burst back into the tavern fifteen seconds later and proclaimed gleefully, "Snivelly!"
James was up and at the door in a blur of black hair. Peter and an alarmed Remus followed.
The weather outside could not have been more perfect for a typical October afternoon. The warm winds were blowing in the particularly appetizing scent of Dinner all the way from Hogwarts. The villagers of Hogsmeade had kindly offered an amazing variety of decorations for the upcoming holiday of Halloween; houses had been transfigured into pumpkins, cats were given a temporarily traumatized appearance by their owners, and the yellow "lawn" of the Shrieking Shack was covered in eerie, chuckling tombstones. Remus could make out a cloaked figure with extremely bad posture making its way across through the tombstones. The figure's oily, black hair did not shift in the wind, but its cloak was making up for that, whipping awkwardly around the figure's legs.
Remus sighed, and wandered vaguely whether he would ever witness a day in which Sirius and James would stop tormenting Severus Snape.
"Oy! Snivelly!" James shouted over the wind. He was catching up with Sirius, and they were only a few yards from the Shrieking Shack.
The figure paused, and turned in the direction of the exclamation. Its eyes widened, and it stood there, as though unable to decide which way to run first. Too late.
Author's SecondNote: It has recently come to our attention (okay, maybe not recently, it's actually been this way for a while) that while we get a lot of page views, no one is actually reviewing. This makes us sad. Very, very sad. Please understand that reviews are very appreciated, yes even the very frightening ones that threaten our lives to take down such blasphemy, because they're all reviews after all. :shameful begging ensues: