This little fic popped into my head a while ago, whilst I had no internet acces. I have no idea where it came from. I hope it turns out better than I think it did...

Disclaimer: Slash, pretty mild, actually...see what you can catch. Umm...I think that's it...oh yes.

None ofthe Harry Potter charactersare mine. I just liberatethem on occasion and force them to do what we all know they secretly were doing but never got mentioned in the books.

"So, lads," said James. "How d'you want to die?"

Remus lifted his head from Sirius' chest and gave James an odd look. "Why? Tad morbid for the day after exams, don't you think?"

James just shrugged. "Curiosity."

Sirius' head shot up, eyes bright. "Haven't you heard that--"

"Yes, Pads, we have ALL heard that curiosity killed the cat!" the other three said in an exasperated monotone.

"Besides, we have no cats. We have a wolf, a dog, a rat, and a deer. So we shall be perfectly fine!" added Sirius, slightly miffed that they stopped another of his overused jokes. He ruffled Remus' hair and snickered when Remus responded by sticking his tongue out.

Sirius was jut about to take advantage of this when James spoke again.

"Seriously. How d'you want to die?"

"Of old age with you lot," said Remus promptly.

"In bed, with--" added Sirius, earning him a sharp elbow in the ribs from Remus and approving laughter from James and Peter. "Well, I concede that dying in some cool duel or something would be awesome. Only, whoever I was fighting couldn't kill me, it'd have to be something else."

"What, like the ground'll swallow you up?" asked James sarcastically.

"Yeah, that'd be cool."

James shook his head, grinning. "You're hopeless."

"Thank you. I try."

"Modest too, isn't he?" added Remus.

"What about you, Pete?" James asked.

"I dunno. I guess old age, like Rem." Peter shrugged. "What about you, Jimmy?"

James put on his Serious Thinking Face and, after a while, gave his answer. "I dunno either. Some cool explosion, I guess. I'd want it to be quick, though!" he added.

"I don't want to die when I'm old," said Sirius.

"Why not?" asked Peter. "You could pretend you were deaf and hit people with your walking stick and terrify small children--"

"We do that now," put in James.

"That's not the point. When you're old, you're supposed to."

"Well, you know what they say: die young, leave a good-looking corpse." Sirius snickered.

"You are so hopeless," sighed Remus.

"I know, dear." Sirius gave Remus a kiss on the cheek.

Remus shoved him off. James and Peter clapped. Sirius sulked good-naturedly.

"Not now. Remember what happened last time?"

"All too well," Sirius flashed a malicious grin in James and Peter's direction.

"I will be scarred for LIFE!" James agreed emphatically.

Peter snickered. "You seemed to be enjoying it then…"

"But what counts as 'old'?" wondered Remus.

"What?" the other three turned to him.

"What counts as 'old'? When do you go from being young to being old?" He repeated.

"Thirty is old," stated James.

"Thirty? If you had a kid born the day you graduated, they'd be in third year when you got 'old'." Remus grinned. "Plus you'd be really old by the time I was. I think old is sixty."

Sirius gasped in mock horror and shot to his feet. "You count age fifty as young! Or forty?" He put a hand to his forehead and sighed dramatically, falling back on top of Remus.

"You are damn heavy. Get off."

"What will you give me if I do?"

"You're heavy. I'm serious. OFF."

"No, I'm--"

"OFF."

"Fine."

"Pads, what do you think is old?" asked Peter.

"Forty." Remus gave Sirius an approving look.

"That's much more sensible than Jimmy's."

"Yes, our niece would have kids of her own by then!"

James spluttered. "Wha? No daughter of mine's gonna--wait, who says I'll have a girl?"

Sirius grinned impishly. "I was referring to Peter. I doubt you'll be getting any that soon, Jimmy. Although who Peter would get some from is--"

A wrestling match between Sirius and James ensued despite the heat, Peter and Remus watching idly.

"What d'you think is old, Pete?" asked Remus, playing with a long strand of ivy.

Peter leaned back against the cold of the castle wall. His eyes unfocused a little. "Old is…old is when you can't help anymore. Old is when you're not…useful anymore. When you can't do things for yourself. When you can't give anymore, and you can only take, and hope what you've already given is enough to balance out the taking…"

Please review. Any feedback is appreciated.