A Literal Scrapbook

by Claire Whitmore

A scrapbook is messy, it's full of everything, an essence of what was. It has the smiles, the sadness and the moments when you laugh for no good reason and just want to be with someone loved. This is the Marauder's scrapbook, literally. It's a big bundle of warm fuzzy blankets, cheap wine and the comic section of the paper on a rainy day, just in the form of drabbles. R/S and J/L

20. Vengeance

"Please avenge my death Padfoot!" Squeaked James, who was puppeteering a piece of parchment. He was trying to make his best voice that one would assume a piece of card would make, if a piece of paper could talk. Sirius probably wouldn't doubt this.

"You read it!" Shouted Sirius.

"You have a diary!" Laughed James.

"THIS MEANS WAR, POTTER!" Declared Sirius as he leap and dove onto James, and they began tackling on the floor, as two mates should. Sirius throttled James' neck in between death threats.

Too bad a moment later Remus walked past the dormitory and walked away very quickly whilst muttering about how he was scared for life and how homo-erotic the scene was.