Peter's: marauders gen
Peter was sitting on the floor, a small frown creasing his forehead as he concentrated on what he was doing, completely oblivious to his surroundings.
Sirius, who was perched on the end of Remus's bed, was watching in fascination. He poked Remus's foot.
"Remus," he hissed. There was no response so he poked harder. "*Remus!*"
"Mmm?"
He nodded his head towards Peter. "Why is he labelling that pie?"
Remus sat up slightly, glancing over the top of his book at his friend, who was sitting back on his heels in satisfaction, the foil pie dish now labelled "Peter's" in a round green hand.
"Don't know," said Remus, and went back to his book.
"No, seriously, Moony. I mean... does he really think that would stop anyone who *wanted* the pie? Why doesn't he just *eat* it?"
"Maybe he's not hungry," Remus answered absently, and turned the page.
"I'm offended by his lack of trust. I can't believe he'd think we would steal it! Where's the friendship, the solidarity, the *loyalty*? I'm tempted to nick it, now."
"Thus proving his point," Remus answered mildly, but Sirius ignored him. Far too reasonable, that was Moony's problem.
"He shows an apalling lack of trust. I'm wounded."
"Oh leave him be, Sirius. It makes him happy."
Sirius watched as Peter placed the pie carefully in the trunk at the end of his bed, then walked out of the dormitory, humming cheerfully.
Sirius waited until the noise died away, then darted over to the trunk. Remus put down his book, a frown on his face.
"Sirius, I really wouldn't do that if I were you..."
A quick spell, and the trunk's lid was thrown back, Sirius grinning in triumph as he took the first bite out of a- frankly tasteless- pie. He turned to offer Remus a bite, and the other boy yelped and covered his face with his hands, snorting quietly.
"What?"
"Your... your face...!"
He scrubbed anxiously at his face, which only made Remus laugh harder.
"What?!"
He rolled across Peter's bed and grabbed the mirror that James had been keeping in the drawer in his bedside table ever since Evans had grown breasts.
Across his forehead, carefully written in a round, green hand, was the word "Peter's".
Sirius, who was perched on the end of Remus's bed, was watching in fascination. He poked Remus's foot.
"Remus," he hissed. There was no response so he poked harder. "*Remus!*"
"Mmm?"
He nodded his head towards Peter. "Why is he labelling that pie?"
Remus sat up slightly, glancing over the top of his book at his friend, who was sitting back on his heels in satisfaction, the foil pie dish now labelled "Peter's" in a round green hand.
"Don't know," said Remus, and went back to his book.
"No, seriously, Moony. I mean... does he really think that would stop anyone who *wanted* the pie? Why doesn't he just *eat* it?"
"Maybe he's not hungry," Remus answered absently, and turned the page.
"I'm offended by his lack of trust. I can't believe he'd think we would steal it! Where's the friendship, the solidarity, the *loyalty*? I'm tempted to nick it, now."
"Thus proving his point," Remus answered mildly, but Sirius ignored him. Far too reasonable, that was Moony's problem.
"He shows an apalling lack of trust. I'm wounded."
"Oh leave him be, Sirius. It makes him happy."
Sirius watched as Peter placed the pie carefully in the trunk at the end of his bed, then walked out of the dormitory, humming cheerfully.
Sirius waited until the noise died away, then darted over to the trunk. Remus put down his book, a frown on his face.
"Sirius, I really wouldn't do that if I were you..."
A quick spell, and the trunk's lid was thrown back, Sirius grinning in triumph as he took the first bite out of a- frankly tasteless- pie. He turned to offer Remus a bite, and the other boy yelped and covered his face with his hands, snorting quietly.
"What?"
"Your... your face...!"
He scrubbed anxiously at his face, which only made Remus laugh harder.
"What?!"
He rolled across Peter's bed and grabbed the mirror that James had been keeping in the drawer in his bedside table ever since Evans had grown breasts.
Across his forehead, carefully written in a round, green hand, was the word "Peter's".