Marauder crack

Bewitched

It's a festive night at Hogsmeade. In the back of the bar, sitting in a circle in front of one of the wooden tables, a group of wizards celebrates the birthday of one of them and all sing "For the love of Merlin" and the greatest hits of the summer that he publishes "Witch's weekly" around this time. When they finish with "Circe, goddess of sad eyes" are plucked with "The magic of your eyes" and "Spells of the heart". If they get with the tone is solely and exclusively by statistical chance. You could say that they tune by sheer magic.

The rest of the customers ignore them and drink fire whiskey from bottles that serve alone, flying from table to table. The waitress is a woman with dangerous curves and necklines not suitable for the heart. She always keeps the best tables for the boys at Hogwarts, and she has a habit of calling them "handsome." She would be flattering if it weren't for her telling everyone the same, including elves and girls. 

Can't tell she sees bony, but she's nice. "The back table is free, handsomes!" They sit above four butterbeer jugs, James and Peter, Sirius and Remus to celebrate it's Friday, they're young, and sooner rather than later, it will be summer. It is a clear night but a cold breeze is blowing. It's may in Scotland and when he sits across from James, Remus drops the double buttoning of the coat, without actually taking it off.

- Come on Remus- James brings the beer nearer his mouth- you have to tell me how to get it. I have less than a month left until the holidays, man, and if I'm not dating her this course, possibly I'll have to commit suicide. And I'm serious about it-

"Lily Evans Ballade about Why Doesn't She Love Me episode five hundred one". Sirius thinks at a point it's not even funny to tease anymore of the poor kid. He knows that if he stays at the table, more and more deliveries of the volumes awaits, so ten minutes after arriving, he is already leaning on the bar, intimating with a couple of American witches who have come to visit. It's a shame that James retired from the game a long time ago because Sirius's canine nose sniffs out very clear possibilities of action tonight. The brunette for him, the redhead for James, just how he likes. They both look at him with that languor that alcohol gives and the brunette when she drinks, does it with her eyes open without stopping looking at him from behind the glass.

You miss it, Prongs. More for me.

They say they have come to visit the family. If they were twins, Sirius would howl. They are cousins. Blacks have always married cousins. The thing which explains, according to Sirius, a lot of things about the Blacks.

- Won't you introduce us to your friends? - asks the redhead.

Takes a look at the bottom. Peter has his hands over the table and is holding the mug of beer as if he was going to fly away, still looking at James with that attention that borders veneration. From a distance, Sirius seems to be able to hear James's whimpering and wailing and now he is even more convinced if possible that love, my goodness, must be terrible. Remus must have gotten up to take a wee.

- We have been told that you are a Quidditch star - says the brunette.

She goes back to doing that drinking and looking at him, and for Sirius's sake, she does it wonderfully well, because Sirius wants to stick his fingers in her mouth. - You and your friend. That's what they told us.

The girl points to James.

- They haven't bulshitted you. But sadly the star is in poor shape lately. - Sirius leans a little more on the bar, lets his hair fall in his face. - The poor man has fallen in love. It's tragic- he says. - Nevertheless, I could introduce little Peter but I don't think you're interested.

It's not that Peter is a bad guy. But when it comes to introducing him to some girls you want to impress is not that he is precisely the Great Britain pride. Although from afar there he resembles quite a little to the Mother Queen, now that Sirius is looking at him.