A/N: I think I forgot to mention this, but this story takes place in 5th year, in the middle of the year. :) You might want to know that.

The next night, the moment the last person dropped onto their beds in the boy's dormitory, Sirius was downstairs, and when he came back in what felt like a half a second later, he was holding the heavy Drop Off Box in his arms. With flourish, he set it down in front of Remus, Peter, and James, who were already in their circle and waiting, and grinned.

"Tonight's was heavier than yesterday's; you must have said something right, Prongs," he remarked, shaking the box to prove his point. "Now, before we start tonight's batch, I'd like to request that you two-" he pointed at Remus and Peter. "-don't fall asleep this time, because James and I don't want to have to put everything away alone again. Get it?"

"I was tired," Peter protested. "I couldn't help it!"

"Of course you could help it, you useless bulge," Sirius said as he opened the box. "All you did yesterday was eat and sleep."

"I did not," Peter insisted. "I did my homework too."

"No you didn't," Sirius scoffed. "You copied off of mine."

"He did?" Remus looked rather miffed, though the rest of the boys could not imagine why. "Sirius, why did Peter copy your homework?"

"Because I didn't feel like giving him the answers orally," Sirius explained. "Normally I just tell him what to write, but yesterday I was feeling lazy, so I just gave him my work to copy."

"He copied my homework the day before," James added conversationally as he began to search through the letters. "Sirius and I switch off."

"It's very helpful," Peter said, beaming. "The teachers reckon I'm some kind of genius by now."

Remus let out an odd yelp and said, "That's horrible! Peter, from now on, you're going to have to do your own homework."

Peter began to chortle, and in turn, Sirius and James did too. "Silly Moony; why would I do that?" Peter asked through his laughter.

"Well, if you don't do your work, how will you learn?" Remus asked.

"Oh, lighten up, Moony," Sirius said idly as he began to open his first letter. "It's not that big of a deal."

"Yes, it is!" Remus insisted, scandalized. "This is completely immoral, unfair to those who actually do their work, and I cannot believe that you let him –"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," Sirius interrupted. "This is one from your would-be girlfriend, Prongs; take a look." He tossed the letter at James, who took it curiously. As he glanced over it, his expression became more definitively incredulously sickened. When he finished, he snorted and got out some parchment to answer it. Peter picked it up and read it aloud to the rest of them.

Dear Prongs,

I haven't told this to anyone before, but I really trust you, even if you won't go out with me. See, I have this disease that makes my toenails ooze fungus every three days. I know it sounds gross, and it is – my feet reek and it looks hideous when I take my socks off – but it's a medical condition. I want your advice, Prongs; what should I do about my icky feet?

Rachel Young

By the time Peter had read the unfortunate young lady's name, all four of them were in peals of laughter; Peter had the gift of reading things out and making them sound extremely entertaining, even if they weren't. Tears were pouring down Sirius's cheeks, and he was getting close to passing out because he couldn't even breathe for laughing. James's tears were getting splattered on the parchment; he had to spoil quite a lot before he could write out his response with no tear drops on it.

"No, leave them there," Sirius said hoarsely as he tried to regain his powers of speech. "She'd like a bit of her darling Prongsie with her while she mops up her toe fungus." He high-fived Peter and the two of them went into more hysterics together. Remus, however, had stopped laughing fairly quickly – admirably quickly, actually, considering how hard he'd been laughing only a few moments previously – and glared at them.

"Don't make fun of her," he objected. "It's a medical thing; she can't help the condition of her toes."

"Well, she shouldn't have told Prongs about it; like he cares!" Sirius said, cackling. "What's he supposed to say to that anyway?"

"Let's ask him," Peter suggested, looking over James's shoulder to see what he was writing.

James dotted an 'i' on his page with flourish and handed his friend the paper. "There you go, Pete."

"Thanks very much." Peter cleared his throat and announced in a pompous, Cockney accent:

Dear Rachel Young,

I'm terribly sorry to hear of your condition, and I am quite flattered that you confided in me. However, I can offer little advice besides keeping your socks on in public, and making sure to clean your feet out as thoroughly as is possible in the privacy of your own bathroom. If anyone asks what you are doing, tell them to mind their own business; keep this kind of stuff to yourself.

Prongs

Sirius was still giggling when Peter finished reading the response. "Geez Prongs; nice of you to tell her that you have nothing to say to her," he said. "'Tell them to mind their own business.' That was a bit of a blow-off if I ever saw one."

"Well, what would you have said?" Remus took over, raising an eyebrow. "Don't harp on James so much; on his defense, he's handling this very, very well."

James groaned. "Remus, please don't help."

"Why not?" Remus sounded a bit hurt.

"Because when you think I'm doing well, then it must mean that I'm too mushy and understanding," James clarified. "I'd better sharpen up."

"That's the James Potter I know," Sirius said, beaming as he patted his friend on the back. "Welcome back."

"Is there anything else that I can read out loud?" Peter inquired, sifting through some more letters. "Ooh, here's Lily's response; do you want to see this, James?"

"Yeah!" James snatched the letter from Peter and ripped it open. He read through it eagerly, drinking it in, but when he was finished, he rolled his eyes and snorted as he tossed it aside and took utensils to reply. Peter took the abandoned parchment, cleared his throat once more (he appeared to like the rather important-sounding noise it made before he read), and changed his accent to a breathy, fairly nasally high-pitched one:

Dear Prongs,

I'm sorry I was so harsh with you in my first letter. My feelings remain the same, but I felt it was important to tell you that I shouldn't have been so outspoken. I did feel really bad about it; I hope you'll trust me when I say that. You're right though, because you can't change my mind about you. I'm quite sorry if you have finally found someone among your clan that has her priorities in the right place.

Lily Evans

Sirius's eyebrows were in danger of getting lost in his hairline when this had been read out. "Gosh, what a bitch. Why do you like her so much?"

"Shut up, Sirius," James said, throwing a pillow at him. "She's being a little unreasonable at the moment, yes, but she's not a bitch."

"Unreasonable?" Peter looked at the letter again and quoted, "'I'm quite sorry if you have finally found someone among your clan that has her priorities in the right place.' Prongs, mate, she's trying to tell you that everyone that admires you – which is most of the people in our house – have their priorities in the wrong place for that very reason."

"I know," James said. "But I'm going to be polite back to her. Give me a minute to think about what I want to say."

"Say something cutting," Sirius suggested. "She's being really rude; you owe her the favor back, don't you?"

"No," James said shortly as he began to write. "I will be assertive, like last time; she seems to respond well to that."

"That's the way to go," Remus approved with a nod and a smile. "James, this newfound maturity is so refreshing; where was this all these years?"

"If I knew, it would be back there again, because I hate being so 'mature,'" James retorted as he wrote something more fiercely than he had intended. "I want to shout at her, like I would to any other girl, but I can't make myself do that. I don't know why."

"You've liked her since you were eleven years old," Sirius reminded him. "That gives her a bit of a break in your book, whether or not you want to give it to her. She doesn't deserve it though."

"Still, I wrote something pretty gracious back, considering what I'm feeling towards her right now," James said, giving Peter the finished letter. "Read away."

Peter obliged, and used a deep, throaty voice now:

Dear Lily Evans,

I appreciate your honesty, and your apology, but quite honestly, I don't have too much to say to you. I have seen you, spoken to you, associated with you, and been around you before, and I had previously liked you; I still do think you're a fantastic person, but I see now that you're probably not my type. You don't have to waste your time sending me letters anymore; we're not kidding anyone here.

Prongs

"You still think she's fantastic?" Sirius howled, looking mournful. "James, don't tell her that! That's the dumbest thing you can say when you're trying to shut her up. I like your last sentence though; adequately cold."

"Thank you, but I think it's important for her to know that I care about her," James said as he put the finished reply into an envelope for delivery. "I don't want to sound too cold because then she'll never talk to me again."

Sirius's expression, even if it was being heavily restrained, suggested a statement something like, 'When did she talk to you very much in the first place?' However, it was Peter who spoke aloud, by inquiring, "Why would her not talking to you be a bad thing?"

"Even you, Wormtail, shouldn't be that thick," James snapped. "It's bad for very obvious reasons! I like her, so it's kind of a good thing if she can talk to me."

Sirius shook his head, disappointed. "Just when I think you can't get any dumber, you astound me again, Peter. But then again, James, we will never know why you are so stuck on Lily; she's not bloody interested, so why do you try?"

"I try because sometimes you just know that someone's meant for you," James clarified, picking up another letter. "Every part of me is screaming at me – it's Lily! She's the one! So it's mostly my sixth sense – my chick sense – that keeps me attracted to her."

"We're not adults yet, James," Remus pointed out. "We are not really fit to make decisions like that when we're so young."

"I know, but love doesn't believe in limits," James persisted. "I can't really explain it in words, but I just have a good feeling about Lily. I know we can work it out…somehow."

"You sound so deep and insightful," Sirius complained. "Shut up and say something suggestive so that I know it's still you."

"Hmmmm…how was it Alyssa last night, Sirius?" James inquired, grinning. "Is that suggestive enough for you?"

"I'll take it," Sirius said. "But still; don't be like this! Be the fun-loving, girl-obsessed guy that I chose for my best friend back in first year."

"James is finally showing signs of maturity, Sirius; you should be following his example," Remus said. "James, you might be on the verge of a break through; maybe you'll be Head Boy by seventh year if you keep going like this!"

"Lets not get too hasty here," James said, looking appalled. "You're the good boy; you'll get the Head Boy spot. Me? I might turn out kind of mature, but that's only a possibility; you will be boring and goody-good all your life."

"No, I won't," Remus objected. "I'm not boring or goody-good!"

Peter laughed. "That was a good one, Remus; not boring or goody-good…what a lie."

Remus threw Peter a filthy look and said, "I'm not that boring."

"Without us, Remus, a block of porridge would be more interesting than you," Sirius informed him. "You'd be pretty much invisible because all you do is work; we bring out the human…and the not-so-human sides of you."

Remus rolled his eyes. "Well, I need to be smart to survive; being interesting isn't as pertinent."

"How do you suppose you're going to get married then?" Sirius demanded. "James is an athlete, I'm gorgeous, and Peter has amazing friends; what about you? Should we do a blind marriage for you too? If you want us to, say so; there's no shame in a blind marriage. You know we pick good girls."

"I don't want to get married," Remus said steadily. "I am a werewolf; no one will want to marry a werewolf. I would be too dangerous."

"I bet you anything that in the future, they'll make a potion that will help you transform," James assured him. "You'll be tamer. Besides, if you find that perfect girl, she won't care about what you are."

"If she's that perfect, James, then she deserves someone young and whole; someone who won't devour her because of a bloody wolf that had nothing to do with her," Remus said steadily. "Besides, it'll all come in its right time. For now, we are fifteen, and we shouldn't be worrying about marriage anyway."

"Well, the rest of us who have their romantic timelines intact know that you need to start girlfriend hunting now if they ever want a wife later," Sirius said. "You really should put yourself out there, Moony; girls like furry creatures. You don't have to tell her which one you are."

"Can we stop making fun of me and finish these letters?" Remus asked irately. "Blimey, it's already midnight and we've only answered two letters."

"Fine, fine," Sirius grumbled as he took out another letter. Peter grabbed at a letter as well, as did James and Remus. For the next few hours, the boys read letters, gave some ideas for advice as James tried to hastily write it all down, and went on to the next piece of parchment in sight. By three AM, all the letters had finally been answered, and Remus was still awake, which was an improvement. To make up for falling asleep the other night, he also helped Sirius take all the letters down to the Pick Up Box while James watched Peter sleep, and thought about what he could do to annoy his friend.

So, when Sirius and Remus came upstairs, panting, James was already in bed, and Peter was completely soaked through, yet somehow still asleep. Sirius took in Peter's wet form, James's too-angelic slumber, and the slightly wet bucket nearby, and grinned. A sudden monkey-grin on his face, he filled up the bucket himself and threw the bucket over Peter, delighted, but Peter was, by some miracle, sound asleep despite that. Sirius offered Remus a go (which he refused) before doing it one more time for him and going to bed.

"Nice idea, Prongs," Sirius whispered to James in the darkness. "Pretty ruthless. Maybe tomorrow, when he asks what happened, we can tell him that he wet himself."

"Really, you two," Remus said. "You are both being utterly juvenile right now. Sirius, I wouldn't have expected any different from you, but James; you had been so good today, and now you throw buckets on poor, innocent Peter!"

Sirius snorted for the third time that night. "Poor, innocent Peter? Yeah right. 'Poor innocent Peter' likes to put ketchup and maple syrup on your eggs in the mornings."

"I thought that was you," James said, looking confused.

"Well, yes, but Peter helps," Sirius clarified.

Remus looked quite aggravated, but he said, "Lights out, both of you. And don't throw more water on Peter."

"Fine," Sirius mumbled. He put out his light and said, "Good-night Moony, Prongs."

"Good night, both of you," James said back, putting out his own light and settling under the covers. It had been quite a night; Rachel's feet had definitely added a few eyebrow raises a few hours back. But, of course, it wasn't only Rachel that was on James's mind; it was Lily. He hadn't forgotten about her so-called apology; would she reply back to him like he expected, or would she actually keep her quill to herself and not write back? He had learned, by this point, that either one was a distinct possibility, but, of course, nothing besides twenty-four hours would give him any kind of answer.

The real question, though, was whether or not he truly wanted that answer.