Chapter 24- Herpes the Owl, and No I'm Not Joking...
"Rhiana! Rhiana, are you ready?"
"For the last time: bugger off!"
Remus Lupin was not a happy werewolf.
"But Miss Peenapul," Sirius sang, knocking a merry tune on the toilet door, "You have to make a grand entrance from the toilet cubicle sometime!"
"Oooo, she's hideous! Just look at that hair!"
"What do you mean 'she', you irritating ghost!"
"Oi, leave Myrtle alone, Moony," Sirius said, casting an apologetic look at the ghost who floated above in a rather infuriated mood at Remus' comment. "She could give you make-up tips or something," he suggested. "Though, she could use some blusher herself since she looks awfully pale. Get it? Pale, because she's a ghost! Har har, get it, Pete...? Myrtle...? Jeez, you people need to LIGHTEN UP. It's not like your bloody DEAD or something—oh, wait. Sorry Myrtle."
Remus folded his arms stubbornly and leaned against the cubicle wall, pushing up the James Potter glasses on the bridge of his nose that just didn't seem to hold in place. "I'm not coming out. And I am most certainly not leaving this bathroom with Snape on the prowl."
"Maybe Rhiana finds prowling sexy-"
"Rhiana most certainly does not!"
"Er…are we still talking about Rhiana here?"
"Quiet, Wormtail," Sirius hushed him. "You're supposed to be keeping an eye on Snape on the map," he reminded the boy, tapping the parchment in his hand.
Peter nodded in obedience, and then let his eyes glimpse across the many corridors of Hogwarts on the parchment. "Hey," he pointed to the map, "Is that Prongs going to the…Owlery?"
"Oh, I told him to go transfigure some owls into pigeons."
"You what?" Remus shrieked, flinging the cubicle door open in hysterics.
Sirius grinned. "Finally, mademoiselle has decided to make her appearance! I do say, Moony, that dress is much more dashing than that ghastly lace thing you wore before."
Remus reddened, flushing a thousand reds in his glittery turquoise dress. "I do not feel comfortable in this," he stated, thoroughly displeased by the bright revealing attire Sirius had hurled over the cubicle door for him to 'sport! Yes, Moony! You must SPORT! SPORT AWAY!'
"Fashion over comfort ability always, Moony! Honestly, have I taught you nothing?"
Remus grumbled. "I can't believe I fell for that James-transfiguring-owls-into-pigeons-thing," he said embarrassingly.
Sirius gave him a confused look. "What? I wasn't joking."
"You're honestly saying James is going around, pointing his wand at other people's owls, and trying to transfigure them into pigeons?" Remus asked, trying to make logic of the question.
"Yes," said Sirius, as if the answer was completely obvious. "We ran out of prank ideas for Derrick so Prongs had to 'resort' –honestly, resort is not the word I would've liked him to say but he used it- to my idea about pigeons raping Derrick from behind. All he needs is about," he counted a few odd fingers on his hand, "fifty pigeons, I'd say. But anyway, back to your situation."
Remus paled, drifting off his thoughts of James possibly being pecked to death by angry owls, and to the subject of how he could escape Sirius and his insanity. Meanwhile, Sirius was eyeing him up and down. Remus was very aware that his upper thighs were visible. He knew he shouldn't be bothered by this factor considering he was in James Potter's body, but he still self-conscious all the same.
