The Marauders: Year Seven Part One

If You Like Pina Colada

"IF YOU LIKE PIIIIIINA COLAAAADAAAAAA....... AND GETTING CAAAAUGHT IN THE RAIN.....AND THE FEEL OF THE OOOOCEAAAN....... AAAAAAAND THE TAAAAASTE OF CHAMPAGNE! IF YOU LIKE MAKING LOVE AT MIDNIGHT... IN THE DUUUUUUUUNES OF THE CAPE! YOU'RE THE LOVE THAT I'VE LOOKED FORRR... COME WITH MEEEE AND ESCAPE!"

James looked around. "You're attracting so much attention, Sirius, bloody hell."

Sirius glanced about, and sure enough, there were several muggles glancing their way as they passed, dragging trolleys full of luggage and little kids with sticky faces along through the airport. Overhead, a tinny voice was announcing arrivals and departures of various flights, and some sort of lyricless jazz music was playing quietly in the background. Sirius was dragging the one duffel bag that Mrs. Potter had insisted upon - each of them needed at least one bag, she'd said, so the muggles didn't find them odd for going on holiday without one at all - and dancing along the corridor toward their gate.

"They're all just jealous they don't sound as fucking fabulous as I do," Sirius said, and he turned to wave to a middle aged man who was looking quite irritated as he tried to talk on a public telly-phone.

Charlus Potter came up behind James and Sirius at that moment, and, grinning, put his arm about Sirius's shoulders, "Precisely the sort of attitude you ought to have, my boy!" he said, and he looked at James, "Don't crack down on the fun, Jamesie!" And he started singing, trying to imitate Sirius's tune, "If you like Pina Coladas and getting caught in the rain.. if you like the feel of the ocean, and the taste of champagne... if you like --"

"Dad, please," James begged, interrupting before he could go any further, "Please, stop there. If you sing the next line, I'll bloody hex myself deaf."

Dora laughed and hugged James, patting his hair down. "Old people aren't allowed to enjoy making love at midnight?" she asked.

James groaned, "UGGHHH, no. Please. Stop." He covered his ears.

Sirius was grinning widely in amusement. "Oh dear, I do believe we've broken James's virgin ears. Poor Prongslet."

"Such a funny nickname, Prongs," Charlus remarked. "How'd you say he came upon it again?"

"Really don't recall," Sirius said, and he quickly diverted attention by pointing out the wide picture windows that lined the hallway they were walking along. "Muggles don't believe in magic, yet they believe in those fucking two-ton iron birds floating through the air of their own accord?"

"Shhh," hissed Dora, "Don't be needing a crack on from the Ministry for breaking the Statute, now do we?" She looked around, her hands instinctively covering James's ears, as though that did anything.

"Bloody hell, mum," James said, shaking her off him.

"They call what the planes do aerodynamics and it's a sort of science," Charlus explained, "Like in Doctor Who, right son?"

"Sort of," James replied.

Sirius laughed, "Stupid muggles." Then, with Mrs. Potter's glare, he changed the subject yet again, "I can't bloody wait to see Costa Rica!"

"It's ruddy fantastic there," Charlus offered, "You lot are in for the greatest summer you've ever had! And you'll get to meet the cousins!" He was speaking to them both and it struck Sirius once again just how incredible the Potters - all of them -  were, accepting him into the family as one of their own.

As though to emphasize the thought, Dora suddenly reached over and, having licked her thumb, wiped a smudge of dirt off Sirius's nose.

"Gross, mum," James complained, "Sirius doesn't want your rotter spit all over his face, bloody hell."