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myficsTitle: The Extremely Private Communal Notebook 07
Rating: PG-13/R
Summary: Sirius, Remus, Peter, and James have a notebook that they all write notes to each other in. Find out what happens to them during their school years through its pages.
Disclaimer: Me = Poor. JKR = Richer than the Queen. Note the difference.
Author's Notes: Dedicated to the boys of Mr. Fairchild's first block Civics class, who let me eavesdrop on them more than they really should've. I listened to them to get the general idea of how boys interact with each other in this type of dynamic, and then went from there. The prologue and the first four chapters are dedicated to them.
Dear Moony, Wormtail, and Padfoot:
You'll scrounge? You'll SCROUNGE? Oh, God. You make it sound as though I'm completely hopeless...I haven't reached that stage yet have I? Okay...maybe I have. But still! Do you have any idea how embarrassing it is to have your mates SCROUNGE for you? Go away Padfoot! I don't want to meet whatever piece of she-slut you and Moony have SCROUNGED...oh. Hmm...yes. Definitely a good decision; big boobs, brown hair, and no brains. That's precisely how I like them. Evans who?
Yours in Drooling,
Prongs
Dear Moony, Padfoot, and Prongs:
Women suck. I hate them...quit snickering, Padfoot! Okay, okay! You were right. Girls don't like it when touch them in inappropriate places and ask, "Shall we shag now or shall we shag later?" (especially when said conversation is taking place in the middle of Madam Puddifoot's). How was I supposed to know they wouldn't like that! Moony's books didn't say anything about bad pick-up lines. She certainly didn't like that one... And I quote: "I never want to speak to you again, you wanker!" Apparently, I have "all the sex appeal of a two-legged, disfigured hippogriff in heat." Hmph!
Forget her. Doesn't matter. At least I don't have to finish sex ed with Moony...god, the illustrations.
Off to barf and pout,
Wormtail
Dear Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs:
Knew you'd like her James. And glad you had fun...probably should've shown you the books...don't know what I was thinking. You were in more need of them than Wormtail.
Oh God, Peter. Please tell me you are joking. You didn't say that to her? Next time you have a date, instead of reaching for the sex ed books I'll grab the ones on SUBLETY. She was right though...you do sort of remind me of a two-legged, disfigured hippogriff in heat...odd, that. Wonder why I never noticed that before?
Erm...anyway...I'm sure that the next time you get a date, it'll go quite smoothly...I hope, for all of our sakes, as we can't take both you and James lying on the Common Room floor singing. Padfoot and I, as much as we love you two, will be forced to Avada Kedavra you both. We'll miss you, but it shall be a necessary sacrifice.
Yours in death threats,
Moony
Dear Moony, Wormtail, and Prongs:
Can't...stop...laughing...Peter...oh god...HAHAHAHA!!! You actually said that to her...oh sweet Merlin. All hail the King of Subtlety! Got a Dance of Death prepared for your crowning ceremony, eh, Kingy?
James, glad to hear you had...er...fun with that girl. What was her name again? I never asked her. Just mentioned your name and she said (in this incredibly high-pitched annoying voice, by the way), "POTTER? THE SEEKER? Sure I'll blo--I mean...date him!" Guess she had a slip of the tongue (no pun intended, heh heh) there, huh? Who's got your back, Prongsy? Eh? Who's your bestest mate in the world?
Oh, and you owe me for this. I may have your back, but mine sure could use some scratching...I scratched yours first, see.
Moony, congratulations. We officially have a job well done. I'm proud of us. Perhaps a celebratory whiskey fest? I know the moon isn't for two more weeks, but still...we have something to celebrate, right?
Off to steal,
Padfoot
Rating: PG-13/R
Summary: Sirius, Remus, Peter, and James have a notebook that they all write notes to each other in. Find out what happens to them during their school years through its pages.
Disclaimer: Me = Poor. JKR = Richer than the Queen. Note the difference.
Author's Notes: Dedicated to the boys of Mr. Fairchild's first block Civics class, who let me eavesdrop on them more than they really should've. I listened to them to get the general idea of how boys interact with each other in this type of dynamic, and then went from there. The prologue and the first four chapters are dedicated to them.
Dear Moony, Wormtail, and Padfoot:
You'll scrounge? You'll SCROUNGE? Oh, God. You make it sound as though I'm completely hopeless...I haven't reached that stage yet have I? Okay...maybe I have. But still! Do you have any idea how embarrassing it is to have your mates SCROUNGE for you? Go away Padfoot! I don't want to meet whatever piece of she-slut you and Moony have SCROUNGED...oh. Hmm...yes. Definitely a good decision; big boobs, brown hair, and no brains. That's precisely how I like them. Evans who?
Yours in Drooling,
Prongs
Dear Moony, Padfoot, and Prongs:
Women suck. I hate them...quit snickering, Padfoot! Okay, okay! You were right. Girls don't like it when touch them in inappropriate places and ask, "Shall we shag now or shall we shag later?" (especially when said conversation is taking place in the middle of Madam Puddifoot's). How was I supposed to know they wouldn't like that! Moony's books didn't say anything about bad pick-up lines. She certainly didn't like that one... And I quote: "I never want to speak to you again, you wanker!" Apparently, I have "all the sex appeal of a two-legged, disfigured hippogriff in heat." Hmph!
Forget her. Doesn't matter. At least I don't have to finish sex ed with Moony...god, the illustrations.
Off to barf and pout,
Wormtail
Dear Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs:
Knew you'd like her James. And glad you had fun...probably should've shown you the books...don't know what I was thinking. You were in more need of them than Wormtail.
Oh God, Peter. Please tell me you are joking. You didn't say that to her? Next time you have a date, instead of reaching for the sex ed books I'll grab the ones on SUBLETY. She was right though...you do sort of remind me of a two-legged, disfigured hippogriff in heat...odd, that. Wonder why I never noticed that before?
Erm...anyway...I'm sure that the next time you get a date, it'll go quite smoothly...I hope, for all of our sakes, as we can't take both you and James lying on the Common Room floor singing. Padfoot and I, as much as we love you two, will be forced to Avada Kedavra you both. We'll miss you, but it shall be a necessary sacrifice.
Yours in death threats,
Moony
Dear Moony, Wormtail, and Prongs:
Can't...stop...laughing...Peter...oh god...HAHAHAHA!!! You actually said that to her...oh sweet Merlin. All hail the King of Subtlety! Got a Dance of Death prepared for your crowning ceremony, eh, Kingy?
James, glad to hear you had...er...fun with that girl. What was her name again? I never asked her. Just mentioned your name and she said (in this incredibly high-pitched annoying voice, by the way), "POTTER? THE SEEKER? Sure I'll blo--I mean...date him!" Guess she had a slip of the tongue (no pun intended, heh heh) there, huh? Who's got your back, Prongsy? Eh? Who's your bestest mate in the world?
Oh, and you owe me for this. I may have your back, but mine sure could use some scratching...I scratched yours first, see.
Moony, congratulations. We officially have a job well done. I'm proud of us. Perhaps a celebratory whiskey fest? I know the moon isn't for two more weeks, but still...we have something to celebrate, right?
Off to steal,
Padfoot
