Disclaimer: See Prologue

A/N: Christmassy snow has turned to ice. So this is for my Sirius. May you always be as loveably stupid, you absolute ass.

A/N 2: Peter's mountain is Egg-loy-sill-an.

"Er…what?"

Lupin's renowned poker face remained on top form. "Ask your godfather."

Sirius grinned. "Oh, stop bitching. It was funny."

"Excuse me, are we talking about the same event? I'm surprised I lived to tell the tale."

"Shouldn't have been drinking then, should you?"

"Shouldn't have let me then, should you?"

Harry raised an eyebrow and watched them bicker. He knew Sirius well enough by now, but he had always thought Lupin had far too much dignity to lower himself to this level.

1978

"Moony!"

Lupin groaned. "What time is it?"

Sirius grinned. "You need hair of the dog and a decent fry up."

More groaning followed.

"Get this down you."

Lupin knocked back the contents of the cup. It burned the back of his throat. "What was that?"

"Hair of the dog. I'm going to get you so plastered that you don't even know what a hangover is."

Lupin shook his head. "No, you're not. I have work to get to."

"Not in this weather, you don't." Sirius glanced down at his watch. "And it's four p.m. so it might be a bit late to show up now."

"WHAT?" Lupin threw off his blankets and leapt to his feet. "You let me sleep all day?"

Sirius shifted uncomfortably. "You looked so peaceful."

"Well, yeah. I will be after Mr. Perkins strangles me."

Sirius rolled his eyes. "Relax, babe."

Lupin glared. "If you keep calling me by disturbing pet-names, I will be forced to think you are coming onto me."

Sirius scoffed. "You wish. I checked on the radio. St. Brainwaves is closed."

"Braithwaite's."

"Whatever." He grinned. "So I suppose you'll need me to tire you out so you can sleep tonight?"

Lupin frowned. "After 'babe', I don't know what you've got planned, but count me out."

Sirius said nothing and turned to the coffee table which he proceeded to hold aloft as he snapped off all four wooden legs. He tucked the tabletop under one arm and headed toward the door, zipping himself into his leather jacket and turning to his flat-mate.

"Sirius, what the flying fuck?"

Sirius only threw his coat at him. "Come on. James is going to cuddle up on the sofa, but you, me, and Peter are going to have a boys' night out. Come on. Hurry up."

"You, me, Peter, and a broken table that belongs to my landlady, evidently."

Sirius clicked his tongue. "Live a little. I'll glue the damn things back on if I have to."

It was bitterly cold outside and Lupin wrapped his father's battered sheepskin coat around him, shoving his hands into his pockets.

"Let's all link arms," said Peter, "and then we can Apparate together."

Sirius smirked. "You're just frightened of splinching yourself again."

"Piss off, Padfoot. You said you'd stop bringing that up."

Sirius grinned. "Get over here then. Neither of you know where we're off to anyway. It's a surprise."

Lupin smiled wryly and raised an eyebrow. "You and the table have had this planned for some time, have you?"

"Yeah, Moony. We wait for you to leave and then we get our maps out."

They wound up atop a lonely and dangerously high hill covered in fractions of snow and lethal ice.

"Is this a joke?" asked Lupin, peering down at the treacherous path down into the valley.

"Ooh!" cried Peter. "I can see my house."

"It might be the last time you do," muttered Lupin under his breath. "Sirius, this is a bloody mountain."

"It's not," Sirius protested. "It's just a tall hill."

"No, it's a mountain" Peter corrected him. "We call it Eglwysilan."

Sirius rolled his eyes. "Leave it to the Welsh to spoil everything."

"We don't spoil things," said Peter. "What have we spoiled?"

"English," said Sirius. "You lot ruined our language. I'm bad in bed under the doctor? I'd be very worried if you all were."

"You lot forced it on us," snapped Peter.

"And bad," he said, continuing to rant as though Peter was not getting angrier by the second. "Why do you all do a sheep impression in the middle? It's bad, not baaaaaard."

Lupin sighed. "Drop it."

"Yeah, Paddy. Drop it like a good boy."

Sirius smirked. "If you don't shut up, Wormtail, I'll put you on this sled and push you down on your own."

"Sled?" shrieked Lupin, at a pitch two octaves above his usual voice. "You want to slide down a mountain on top of our coffee table?"

"Yes."

"Cool."

Sirius did a spectacular double-take. "What did you just say?"

"It's cool."

Peter paled. "It's awfully high, boys. I think it's not such a good idea."

Lupin tossed him his camera. "Stay here and take pictures then. Meet you at the bottom. Apparate down."

Peter dithered helplessly as his two friends settled themselves on the flimsy piece of wood. "Remus, you've gone mad. Stop it. You've let it go too far now."

"Coming, Pete?"

"Remus, stop it! It's not funny! You'll die!"

"Peter, ever heard of a little thing called magic?" asked Sirius. "Of course we're not going to die. No-one's going to die. Chill out. Now, are you coming or not?"

Peter recoiled. "Of course not."

"See you then."

The tabletop slid over the edge and was immediately caught on a frozen molehill, sending its occupants hurtling down the side of the mountain until they hit a fence.

CLICK!

"What did I tell you?"

"Bugger off, Know-it-all!"