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

70. Potter

"Oi, Potter!"

"Yes, Potter?"

"I met a potter the other day."

"Did you really, ginger Potter?"

"Yes, yes I did, four eyes Potter."

"And what did this potter say?"

"The potter said that he knew a Potter."

"You don't say, Potter."

"JUST BECAUSE YOU'RE MARRIED NOW AND HAVE THE SAME SURNAME IN WHICH YOU CAN MAKE MANY PUNS DOESN'T GIVE YOU AN EXCUSE TO CONFUSE ME."

"Did you hear that Potter?"

"I did indeed, Potter."

"It sounded as if Sirius was getting agitated at our brilliance."

"That's remarkable, considering all the Sirius jokes that aren't very light at all and are rather Black that he's made over these years."

"I thought so too, Potter."