Chapter Two – The Perfect Plan

But that had been a week ago and apparently Sirius had other plans for James.

Sneaking into the library after his fellow Marauders had drifted off to sleep, accompanied by James's invisibility cloak and Marauder's Map, he was determined to do something to yank James out of his depressed state.

Running his fingers along the spines of the books, he searched for hours for the right spell, debating in his mind what would work best, to whom it should be influenced with, how X, Y and Z would react and every other possible question under the sun. It wasn't until 3am that Sirius found the perfect spell – a potion, actually – that seemed to fit the requirements.

Smirking at the thought of Madam Pince's horrified look, Sirius ripped out the instructions carefully from the book, slipping them into his pocket as he crept slowly out of the library.

Smirking once again to himself, he was pleased with the idea. All it would take was less than a day to brew the potion and less than three seconds for it to take effect once consumed. This was perfect. Absa-bloody-lutely perfect.

Lily spent the majority of the night lying awake in bed, staring fixedly at the canopy over her bed. She was lost in thoughts – and much to her disgust – of Potter. She had seen a change in his behavior the last couple days. For instance he wasn't asking her out every day in Transfiguration, as she was used to. He even wasn't watching her dreamily, twirling his quill around and around his finger like he used to do. Lily hated to admit it to herself, but she kind of missed it.

Instead, James slunk low in his seat and didn't speak a word all through his classes. She occasionally saw him pass notes between his fellow Marauders but she didn't think that was reason to be suspicious. He didn't do anything to disrupt the learning environment or anything, really, that she could scorn him for.

Through all the racing thoughts of James Potter, Lily comforted herself with the thought that surely she wasn't the only one who'd seen the drop in Potter's behavior since last weeks debacle. Lily grinned sheepishly into her pillow as she remembered what happened.

No, she told herself and any intruders into her brain /A/N: cough cough/ she wasn't grinning because she liked Potter – she was grinning at the memory of his humiliation. James Potter had always gone to so many lengths to make sure he humiliated Lily on a daily basis that she couldn't give a flying pig's bum about Potter and his own suffering embarrassment. Besides, she told herself, James Potter loved the attention.

True, she had looked when the squeals of his fan club signaled the "mysterious" disappearance of his pants and, sure, she grinned a bit and watched him, much to her own revulsion. But this was not because she liked James Potter. It was, as she had told her friends, because she was a girl, and what girl would pass that opportunity up? It just so happened to be Potter that was cursed with such a staring party.

It caught Lily by surprise, though, when her cheeks flushed red when he lost his boxers. She was positive that she was sharing his embarrassment, but, by much ribbing, compliments of her friends, was now slightly convinced that she felt "caught in the act," so to speak. As if she had been watching James with his trousers off for some time now, almost begging the next layer to come off soon.

Which, after this thought occurred to her, sent her mind into hysterics. Being a witch or wizard had its disadvantages, sure: most commonly it was temper that led them to do something unintentionally. But for a few brief moments, Lily was wondering if her subconscious wanted those boxers off, therefore making them come off – with magic.

After a minute of blushing at the idea and many panicked thoughts of that, Lily "calmly" reassured herself that it had been Sirius who had caused James such a – misfortune.

Letting her mind wander a bit more… Lily finally settled on the idea that, being such a kind and caring person as she was, the only reason James Potter was on her mind was because he had been deeply embarrassed, and she felt some – if any – sympathy for him.

That was it, it just had to be.

Remus played his role rather nicely, when it came to being friends with the Marauders. He talked them out of irrational pranks and kept the cool when a fight or retaliation was coming good and near, he even stepped aside and let them beat each other to a pulp when he felt they truly needed it. Remus was always one to help his friends out of a slump and make sure they were feeling better. He was always there, right alongside the others, ready for anything.

But he absolutely, positively would not do this.

Remus stared at Sirius unblinkingly.

"You really think this'll cheer James up?" Remus asked Sirius quietly over breakfast the next morning.

"Shesh, I shoo," Sirius replied messily: his mouth was full of eggs. He swallowed. "Yes, I do," he repeated, a bit clearer this time.

"How then," Remus went on, "do you think he'll enjoy this?"

"Well," Sirius thought quietly for a moment. "I'm not sure if he'll exactly ENJOY it… but it'll get his mind off some other things – people."

"Well, yes," Remus said, poking at his toast with a fork, "but what if he just needs time to recover? Like usual?"

"'Time to recover'? Wow, Remus, what's up with you? James has never had to 'recover' he was always quick back on his feet, ready to try again," Sirius declared, taking a swig of his pumpkin juice.

"Exactly," Remus said a bit louder as Sirius began to eat his bacon noisily.

"'Exactly' what?" Sirius asked stupidly, his cheeks puffed out a bit, storing his bacon.

"James has never had a fall like this," Remus said, lowering his voice as Sirius swallowed. "This is one time and he needs time to recuperate. He needs some time to figure whatever it is out in his mind, Padfoot."

"We're his best mates, Moony," Sirius said, staring at Remus disbelievingly. "I will not have Prongs moping around all depressed for a month. I won't let him suffer like that. Now you can take part in this or not, but I'm going to do it anyway."

"Then I'd rather not take part in it," Remus sniffed, turning his attention back to his toast.

"Fine," Sirius snapped. He grabbed his bag and stalked quickly out of the Great Hall, many eyes of hopeful girls following him as he went.

"Quit doing that, Peter."

"Doing what?"

"That."

"What?"

"For Merlin's sake, just stop already."

"What am I doing?"

"That."

"What's 'that'?"

"Forget it."

"Okay."

A couple seconds passed in silence.

"QUIT SCRATCHING YOUR BLOODY NOSE! YOU'RE DRIVING ME UP THE WALL!"

"Oh," Peter squeaked in a small voice. "Sorry," he said in an even smaller tone.

Peter, who had been scratching the side of his nose nervously, was, apparently, annoying Sirius to the thought of contemplating murder.

Sirius stirred the potion they were brewing slowly clockwise, then counterclockwise.

"Don't," he said sharply.

"What? I wasn't doing anything!" Peter exclaimed.

"I saw you move your finger. No way are you scratching your frickin nose. Again."

"I did not," Peter said indignantly.

"You so did," Sirius declared, sounding rather girlish.

That shut Peter up in a right hurry.

The two continued brewing the potion until the final stir was stirred and the final cork was corked.

"Beautiful," whispered Sirius as he admired the potion. "Absolutely beautiful."

"Erm… why is it so beautiful?" Peter asked, stupidly, as was his nature.

"Because this little beauty will keep us laughing for a week," Sirius said, smiling moronically.

"How?" Peter asked as they cleaned up and headed back to Gryffindor tower.

Sirius patted the flask of aqua blue potion passionately. "Wait and see, Wormtail. Wait and see."