Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter 6

In Godric's Hollow, James briefly thought it a shame that he did not get around to sending flowers to Evans since he saw her a couple weeks ago. His mum and dad might think they didn't like her, but that's because they hadn't met her. He didn't know what the big deal was. So he was no longer head boy. Who cared? Gryffindor head boys had a history of being total losers. Look at Frank Longbottom. He didn't even play quidditch.

Maybe he could have Evans round for the Christmas or Easter holiday. By then, Evans … no, no, Lily, ah yes, Lily, like the flower … would probably suffer terribly if she could not see him for days at a time. Yup, yup. But now he had flowers for her, and could give them to her on the Hogwarts Express, in front of the other girls, so they'd get all jealous and Lily would be immensely pleased with him, and forget all about him not getting around to writing. He'd tell her this evening either during the feast while she sat next to him, or in the common room, yeah, in the common room, on a comfy chair by the fire with her cooing and squirming on his lap, that he was not angry with her. Then she'd be really happy with him, and they could snog, maybe go for a walk, maybe outside, and then get better reacquainted.

"Oi!" Sirius yelled, breaking James out of his steamy daydream, full of snogging and shagging. "You ready?"

"Yeah. Hey, what do you think about these?"

Seeing Prongs take out of his trunk and hold up a ridiculously large bouquet of red roses and white lilies, Sirius fluttered his eyes, fanned his face furiously with his hand, and sniffled, "Oh, you shouldn't have, Prongs. This is all happening so fast! You've made me the happiest girl in the whole world."

"Stop being an ass. These aren't for you."

"You cad. What about all the promises you made me? Don't I mean anything to you? No one will ever love you the way I do, James."

"I don't need to listen again to all the breakup lines you've gotten over the past week, Padfoot."

"I thought that last one was pretty swell," Sirius said with more than a trace of pride in his voice. "So who's the lucky lady that gets to be your quidditch slut for the month?"

"No! These are for Evans."

"Evans? Are you mad? Didn't you hear … oh that's right, you were probably deafened by the foul-mouthed salutation like the rest of Godric's Hollow … the howler from my dear mother? Evans didn't just send aurors here, but to my parents' … actually, I should be the one giving her flowers. Give me those."

"No, Evans is mine. What about MacDonald? That way we can double date."

Sirius rolled his eyes at the absurdity of that concept. "The real reason I came in here, was to get you to stop standing in front of the mirror, fixing your hair, so we could floo down to London. We have a train to catch, you brain numbed moron."

"I am not brain numbed."

"Don't think I didn't notice your lights lit late at night while you furiously scribbled out rolls of homework. You are going to try to impress her in class, aren't you? You're gonna go all Ravenclaw on us. What next? Pick up after yourself in the common room?"

"That'll be the day," James laughed while stowing away the bouquet.

At King's Cross, James still had ideas whirling about his head because he had every intention of being so charming and so forgiving to Evans, no Lily, he'd be back into Lily's knickers by that evening. First off, he got rid of his parents. They were still hot and bothered over their party at the vacation cottage. Evans did not have to react by making some wild claim that dark magic was used on her. It was only a bit of shagging. It was bound to happen sooner or later that James would dissolve the sticking charm keeping her legs together.

"Do you see her?"

"No."

Barely a minute later, James asked again, "Do you see her?"

"No … Oi," Sirius called out to get someone's attention on the platform.

"Padfoot. Prongs. Uh hi," Remus greeted them. He did not know where things stood between them since the fiasco with getting his house searched by an auror for dark arts. They had only written back that it had happened at their homes too.

"Have you seen Evans?"

"Uh, maybe you should not cause any further trouble, James."

"Yeah, James."

"What was that for, Sirius? That's really my name."

"I didn't mean that. Wasn't that what Evans was calling you?"

"Yeah," James agreed with a goofy grin.

"You didn't tell her about me, did you?" Remus asked.

"I hadn't gotten around to that yet, Moony. There's only so many hours in the day, and I'd rather take that time to talk about me, rather than you. Alright?"

"Sounds like there was a lot more shagging than there was talking then," Sirius quipped. "Hey, I got an idea. How about I mess with Wormtail on the train? I'm going to flip a coin and claim it's heads each time. You go along with it."

"Why would you do that?" Remus asked. Each time to him meant this flipping would occur more than once.

"For a laugh."

"Hey, there's Wormtail now."

James called, but Sirius' repeated "Oi" got Peter's attention.

Before anything else was said, James called, "Wormtail, have you seen Evans?"

"Evans?" Peter exclaimed. "She got me probity probed!"

"And I'm sure you loved every second of it," Sirius laughed.

"I did not. Oh, why you looking for her? What are we going to do to get even?"

"Even?" James repeated. "I don't get even with my girlfriend. You don't get even with my girlfriend either."

Peter's mouth had dropped open at the first mention of girlfriend, then he uttered, "Huh?"

Sirius snidely commented, "Prongs thinks Evans got a golden snitch in her pussy."

Peter laughed. Remus scowled since he thought Evans had been pretty decent to him over the years, prior to sending an auror to his house.

"Don't talk about her like that."

"Well, it's getting late. Let's go clear a compartment," Sirius said, already heading for the train.

"Towards the front. Evans is head girl," James reminded them.

"Aren't you head boy?" Remus asked.

"Nah, I didn't want the job," James replied dismissively. "It would get in the way of quidditch. I have to concentrate on training if England's going to get the cup next year."

Unnecessarily, Peter added his agreement, "Yeah, Moony."

Annoyed at Peter acting like he was dumb, Remus had a passing thought that perhaps Wormtail could have been probity probed a bit more thoroughly.

Although they were chastised by two prefects separately, the Marauders cleared out a compartment of second year boys within sight of the prefect compartment. It did not take much since the second years knew first-hand what the Gryffindors were capable of.

As the last one pushed his trunk down the corridor, Peter landed a kick squarely on the seat of his pants and laughed, "Move it, tubby."

He then followed it with a couple stinging hexes while he chortled in glee over how much he loved going back to school, when Felicity Forehead, her real name forgotten since she was a cow of a Ravenclaw with an unfortunate hairstyle that accentuated her freakish head, yelled, "What the hell are you doing, Pettigrew?"

He turned to look, even struck an innocent pose with his hand to his chest to inquire if she had the right person, and asked, "Who me?"

"Why are you attacking another student?"

"What do you care?" Sirius yelled back at her. "Pipe down, or you'll get some of that too, Formidable Forehead."

"Maybe we should sit down," Remus reminded them which was unnecessary now that the train jerked into motion.

"My name is Fortesque, you mangy cur. I'm head girl, and I'm telling you to get in your seats and keep quiet for the entire trip."

"You're not head girl," James denied vehemently.

"Shut your haggis hole, Potter, and sit your bloody arse on a seat," yelled a male voice.

James' mouth dropped open as his eyes zeroed in on the head boy badge on Evan Rosier's chest. They made a Slytherin head boy? Where was the justice in that?

"We'll sit down when we're good and ready, Roserear," Sirius replied and then shot a jelly leg jinx under James' arm to catch Rosier off guard.

There were a couple prefects already in the prefect compartment, and another was coming up behind them to join the others, so the Marauders were being attacked from both sides. Remus put up a shield charm to allow the others to retreat to their chosen compartment to get some cover. James and Sirius were able to make it, but Peter did not move with the shield, as Remus also retreated, so he was hit with something from behind and fell face first onto the filthy floor.

The shouting of expletives awoke Prof. Slughorn in Compartment C from his nap. He opened the door to find a melee occurring just outside the door. Lazily, he cast finite incantatem.

"What is going on out here?"

"Sir," Rosier was quick to address his head of house.

"Ah yes, congratulations, Rosier. Perhaps you'll have a moment later to stop by my compartment for some tea?"

"I'd be delighted, sir."

"Oi!" Sirius interjected.

"Sir," Fortescue started to get Prof. Slughorn's attention back to the matter at hand, "these four Gryffindors attacked us after I verbally chastised them for repeatedly attacking a younger student."

"What student?" Sirius bluffed.

"Oh dear," Prof. Slughorn replied to Fortescue, not least bit interested in what Sirius Black had to say in his defense. "This is very sad. Four Gryffindors on probation while they have a criminal matter being investigated by aurors, and I stumble into them attacking more students."

"We're not criminals," James said.

"Probation? I'd like to see them try," Sirius challenged at the same time that Prongs was denying they anything but model wizarding citizens.

"I suggest the four of you get in that compartment, and I will seal it for the entire trip."

"What about the trolley?" three of them moaned aloud.

"My mind is firmly set, gentlemen," Horace replied. He already heard from Minerva about the brutish way they treated the young ladies whom they lured to their den of filth under the pretense of a summer holiday. And Miss Evans … if he had been given some notice or time, he could have found her someone better suited than Severus Snape. Whatever caused Minerva agree to that fiasco? The moody boy should be thanking the powers that be every waking moment for the hand Fate had dealt him. Evans was much too good for the likes of Snape.

The Marauders railed against the injustice of being incarcerated for the entire journey with nothing to eat or drink, and then this car of the train became blissfully quiet as Prof. Slughorn finished casting spells on their door, compartment window and the frames holding them.

Sirius flopped down on a seat and muttered, "Eh, we'll let them cool down then we'll make out escape."

"Escape? We're in trouble enough as it is," Remus recalled.

"If he did not want us getting out, he should have warded these walls," Sirius replied with a grin as he patted the bit of wall above his seat.

"That goes into the next compartment."

"So?"

"Prof. Slughorn said ..."

James wailed, "What about the flowers?"

"I think you're the one under a dark compulsion, mate," Sirius said with a sneer on his face. "Give it a rest already."

"I could give them to her at the feast, but she'll think I avoided her on the train ..."

"She'll walk by here," Peter pointed out. There was a prefect heading to the front, passing them at that moment.

"Genius!" Sirius exclaimed and got up. He positioned his bottom facing the door and unhitched his trousers.

"Let me get a bottle or something," Remus warned.

"No, you nit. See!"

Sirius dropped the back of his trousers so he was mooning whoever passed.

"Prof. Slughorn is not going to like that."

"Pity our door's not lined up opposite his," Sirius agreed, even though that is not what Remus meant. "I could flash all the pinheads he invites to tea."

Peter said, "Oooh, I'll be your lookout, Padfoot."

Eagerly, Peter waited with his face against the interior glass. He got his chance in a couple minutes and announced, "The door's opening … it's opening … it's open … it's … it's … MacDonald. Get her."

Sirius was delighted to drop his trousers. MacDonald was as big a nag as Evans. She never shut up.

MacDonald had accepted the prefect badge from Prof. McGonagall with reluctance since she was friends with Lily Evans. She had gotten a letter from Lily that she would not be on the train, so would have to wait till the feast in order to find out what was going on … a naked bottom, swaying from side to side. If Potter and Pettigrew were sitting in their seats, grinning like a couple of chimps, then it was Black's bum. Lupin was looking out the other window, pretending not to be there. Typical. Oh now what? Potter was going to make faces at her? She stomped towards the front compartment thinking about how those four had not grown up in the slightest.

James exclaimed, "Did you see that?"

"Yeah, I think she liked what she saw, Padfoot," Peter suggested.

"They all do," Sirius boasted as he pulled his trousers back up. "Let me know when someone else is coming."

"No, she had on a prefect badge."

"So?"

"Isn't Evans our prefect?" Remus asked.

"Yeah, so why's MacDonald taking her place?"

Sarcastically Sirius suggested, "Maybe you inspired Evans to give up school so she can start training to play for England next summer."

"I'm trying to make intelligent conversation here," James chided.

"If it's about Evans, it's not," Sirius replied snottily. "I'm sick of hearing about her. She's vindictive, in case you've forgotten. We may have outwitted her little trick of sending aurors to our houses with false reports of dark ..."

"Sirius, that was a dark potion," Remus reminded him.

"Hardly. She's just got her knickers in a bunch because you got one over on her, Prongs."

"Yeah," Peter agreed. Evans ruined it for all of them because they couldn't chance using that potion again.

"We are still in trouble," Remus stated, trying to bring this conversation around to what they were doing about that.

"It's only a bunch of sour witches."

"Yeah, because they can't have us full-time," Peter agreed.

"From what my parents found out, they have some sort of proof from St. Mungo's that they all drank this potion."

"They can't prove we gave it to them."

James nodded. He hadn't even known there was a potion. His parents were of the opinion that one of the girls brought it, so he did not bother telling them that his mates had brewed it. It was dark, and if there was one thing all the Potter family hated was the dark arts. As long as Sirius never used it again, than it was alright. He seemed to have learned something from all this, and there was no real harm done.

"I think we should behave ourselves and try to find out what's going to happen next," Remus argued.

With a dismissive shrug, Sirius asked, "What can they do? They've searched. They've probed. And they've found nothing."

"Yeah, we're right and Evans is wrong. So wrong, Prongs," Peter insisted.

"But ..." That was not what James wanted to talk about. His parents said they were handling everything so he wasn't worried about the legal aspect of their small prank. His parents knew a lot of people at the Ministry, and Dumbledore was on the Wizengamot. Dumbledore loved their jokes.

"No buts, Prongs," Sirius interrupted. "She's no good for you. Would she support your dream to be an international quidditch star?"

"Of course. Who wouldn't? That's a lot of money. Nice house. Nice clothes. A new broomstick whenever she wanted one."

The other three laughed. A new broomstick whenever Evans wanted one. Prongs was barking mad.

Sirius finished wiping a tear from his eye, and dug out the snacks the Potter house elves had made.

"Make 'em last. Remember, no trolley."

James set up the portable, folding picnic table in the middle so Sirius could guide the platter of sandwiches, containers of pumpkin juice, and the ham on top of it.

Spying what else was in the basket, Peter asked, "Is that a chocolate cake?"

"Yeah, and there's pudding, trifle, fruit and whatever else," Sirius replied. Since James was busy in his bedroom prancing around in front of his mirror playing with his flowers, he had dealt with making sure they had something to nibble on.

"There's fruit here, Padfoot," Remus pointed out. There was a platter of cubed cheeses, crackers and thinly sliced grapes and pitted cherries, along with wedges of apple, pear, nectarine, honeydew, cantaloupe, and plum.

"No, no, there's blueberries, raspberries, blackberries, strawberries and cream."

James frowned. He had a lot of fun with Lily, strawberries and cream. Why was everything going so wrong for him today? True, he could have written. True, he could have sent flowers. But that just wasn't who he was. Why were his mates and parents so against her? She was slipped a potion. True, she overreacted by contacting the aurors, but once James got a chance to explain everything to her, they'd have a big laugh and everything would be fine.

Unlike the werewolf within him, Remus cut his sandwich up. The thing was almost six inches high with only elven magic keeping all the filling between the halves of the crusty roll. The others did not bother with utensils and did their individual best to open their mouths wide enough to cram bits in.

Rosier had stepped out of the front compartment to see if the Marauders were still mooning people, and decided their pigout was just as grotesque so darkened their windows so no one else would have to be subjected to the sight of their arses or their faces.