Summary: One hot summers day, all is unusually peaceful for the Marauders, as they laze about in the Grounds. Of course, they can’t possibly stand for that sort of thing, so James decides to begin a word game with his friends that ends up with Lily being kissed, Sirius running for his life, and Dumbledore remembering his youthful days ... it could only happen to the Marauders!
Now available as AudioFiction Episode #100!
Categories: Humor Fics Characters: None
Warnings: Book 7 Disregarded
Challenges: Series: None
Chapters: 1
Completed: Yes
Word count: 1641
Read: 3286
Published: 02/21/07
Updated: 02/28/07
1. Trees But Not Forests by Pussycat123
Trees But Not Forests by Pussycat123
AN: This is just a random idea I had, and I couldn't possibly not write it, so there we go. It's based on a word game my uncle did with me and my brothers one time. Please keep in mind that JKR owns all aspects of the Harry Potter world!
“Trees But Not Forests”
It was a long, hot day. The Marauders were lazing about on their backs by the lake, pretending they hadn’t got any homework. James wanted desperately for something to happen, something to keep him amused. He remembered something his Dad had done with him one long evening over the summer, and grinned slowly. “I like trees, but not forests. Why?” he asked, breaking the content silence.
“What’s that, mate?” asked Peter, looking up, and frowning against the glare of the sun.
“I like floors, but not ceilings. Why?”
“I think he’s cracked,” Sirius said, frowning. “What have you been smoking of late?”
Remus sighed, pityingly, “He’s playing a word game to pass the time. Do enjoy yourselves, chaps, but I have some intelligent pastimes to get along with.”
“I like grannies, but not grandpas. Why?”
“What intelligent pastime is this, Moony? I hope it is something respectably cool, like treasure hunting or fighting ninjas or something,” Sirius said, hopefully, ignoring James.
“No, Padfoot, for I was blessed with a mind that extends beyond the fantasies of a six year old,” Remus replied, smiling slightly.
“There’s a world BEYOND those fantasies?” cried Peter dramatically, one hand slapping his cheek in mock surprise.
“I like books, but not stories.”
“That’s right, Prongs, keep going as if we’re listening to you,” Sirius told him. “But we’re figuring out a more interesting mind game; what exactly is Moony doing?”
“For goodness sakes!” Remus cried, throwing his hands in the air. “I’m reading a book! Now engage your mind in James’s puzzle, before he dies with jealousy.” And it was true that James’s expression was growing more and more desperate for attention.
He said, in a slightly more forceful voice, “I like crooks, but not thieves. Why?”
“Because being a thief implies a more serious criminal mind than being a crook?” asked Peter.
“I dunno, being a crook sounds pretty shifty to me,” Sirius mused.
“I like bunnies, but not hares.”
“I guess that means we were wrong,” Sirius muttered. “Are we talking the kind of “hare”, as in like a rabbit but not, or “hair” as in the beautiful arrangement lying gracefully on top of my head?”
“Is that hair? I thought it was some particularly greasy centipedes,” Peter commented, and was subsequently wrestled to the ground.
“I like green, but not blue.”
“You like green? What happened to red, the true colour of our forefathers? You traitor!” Sirius protested, a little over dramatically.
“Uh, Padfoot, most of your forefathers probably were green, if you’re talking about House colours,” Remus pointed out, throwing his book to the side, and deciding to join his friends.
“Fair point. But at least he doesn’t like blue; those Ravenclaws are a suspicious lot, if I say so myself.”
“There are some perfectly reasonable Ravenclaws out there,” Remus argued. “I was nearly a Ravenclaw.”
James continued, aware that the comment could get Remus lynched by an appalled Sirius. “I like weeds, but not plants.”
“Not a flipping clue why, mate,” Sirius sighed, and Peter giggled.
James grinned, knowing the perfect thing to recapture his friend’s attention. “I like Padfoot, but not Wormtail. Why?”
“Because you have half a brain,” Sirius replied, laughing. “Unlike Ratty over there.”
James smiled. “I like Ratty, but not Sirius.”
Sirius frowned. “Wait a second, that’s completely contradictory. Do you like Moony?”
James thought for a second, then said, “Yes. I like glass, but not windows.”
“No, no, let US ask YOU the questions. Do you like ducks?” asked Sirius, slowly becoming fascinated.
“No.”
“Me neither,” Peter said. “You know they’ll bite your finger off if you offer them bread?”
“No they won’t, you prat! Just because it happened to you ONE time, doesn’t mean that “”
“I like brunettes, but not blondes!” James cried desperately over what could potentially become a Battle of Egos.
“Oh,” said Sirius, immediately distracted. “But Evans isn’t a brunette. Do you like redheads?”
“No,” James admitted, sadly. “Only for the purpose of this game,” he assured them quickly.
Sirius sighed, pityingly. He spread his arms wide, and said, grinning, “A ‘no’, is a ‘no’, is a ‘no’, mate. You’re trapped. Hey, do you like lakes?” he asked, changing the subject quickly, glancing over at the lake, glittering in the sun provocatively.
“No, but I like pools,” James replied.
There was silence for a minute or two.
“I’m stumped,” Peter admitted.
“I know exactly what’s going on, but it’s funnier to watch you two struggle,” Remus said, laughing. “By the way, James likes to struggle, don’t you James?” he asked, smiling knowingly.
“Yes,” James said, winking at Remus the way you wink at someone who is in on a joke that no one else gets.
“No way, Moony, that’s not fair!” Sirius cried. He turned to James. “Do you like beatings?” he asked.
“No,” James said, firmly.
“Bribes?”
“Nope.”
“Beater’s bats? I could give you a good roughing up with Emmeline, and then you’d have to tell me!”
“Keep your Beater’s bat away from me, you nutcase!” James cried, eyeing Sirius’s trusty bat, “Emmeline”, with mistrust. “You have to use your extensive knowledge of English grammar. I like grammar, by the way.”
“Do you like Emmeline?” asked Sirius, threateningly.
James grimaced, and said, “Technically, yes. But I don’t like thrashings, bashings, or thumpings of any kind. All right?”
“No one says you have to like it,” Sirius said, darkly, stroking Emmeline like a favourite pet.
“Sirius, stop fondling your bat and use your mind to crack the code,” Remus ordered, exasperatedly. “It will be more intellectually satisfying to work it out based on the facts, rather than by pounding James into a bloody pulp. No matter how much James likes blood. Am I right?”
“Yes,” James admitted, begrudgingly. “But I certainly don’t like pulps.”
“No, I don’t suppose you do,” Remus agreed, solemnly.
“Moony, for Merlin’s sake!” Peter cried, desperately. When Remus met his pleas with a smug silence, Peter turned to James. “Give us some more clues!”
James rolled his eyes. “All right, but only since you asked so politely. Good, but not evil “”
““At least we know you’ve got your morals straight“” Sirius cut in.
““Walls, but not buildings“”
““That’s just demented“”
““Cookies, but not biscuits“”
““Cookies are the superior type of“”
““Quaffles, but not Snitches“”
““You're a Chaser, mate, any idiot could've“”
““Titters, but not chuckles“”
““You’re never without titters OR chuckles when Sirius Black is around“”
““Food, but not drink“”
““Well, we don’t mind if you die of thirst“”
““Butter, but not margarine“”
““Well, no one likes margarine“”
““Sleeping, but not dreaming“”
““Not even if it’s about Evans?“”
““SIRIUS BLACK!” screeched an angry sounding voice, and Sirius jumped, as the clues and comments had been firing at top speed.
“Speak of the devil,” he muttered.
“James thinks she’s an angel,” Peter stage-whispered, and Sirius snickered, but controlled himself just in time, as Lily stood in front of them.
“For the sake of the whole school’s sanity, can I be the one to tell you that he only likes words with double letters in?” As the Marauders glanced around, they saw that, indeed, everyone who happened to be outside in the Grounds, was watching the whole escapade intensely.
Sirius blinked. “Quaffles, sleeping, titters, cookies ... it’s all true! Well done, Evans!” Sirius stood and hugged her gratefully, and then, much to her surprise, kissed her right on the lips “ a little over enthusiastically for James’s sake.
“You know what that means, don’t you, Sirius?” he began, tapping his friend on the shoulder, to get him to stop consorting with the baffled woman he was so infatuated with. She brushed herself off with as much dignity as she could muster.
“What?” asked Sirius, frowning.
“I have no problem whatsoever with aggression. In fact, I like it two times over.”
Sirius gulped. “And I guess you don’t mind killing either, huh?”
“As a matter of fact, I don’t. Or shooting, or attacking, or mauling or mugging.”
“Wait a minute ... mauling doesn’t have double letter in it!”
James grinned evilly, leaned right up to his friends ear, and whispered, “This homicide can’t spell.”
Sirius’s eyes widened. “Nice to see you again, Evans,” he squeaked, and fled away across the grounds.
“I like battering and assaulting, too!” cried James, careering after his friend, whose shrieking could be heard right through to Dumbledore’s office, where he and McGonagall were going through paperwork.
“What on Earth is going on?” asked McGonagall, glancing out of the window.
“Oh, I think Sirius and James are just giving the school another melodrama to keep them entertained.”
“It sounds like Mr Black is being slowly tortured to death by Mr Potter!”
“Oh, Minerva,” Dumbledore chuckled, “You just don’t understand teenage boys, do you?”
McGonagall smiled, and went back to reading through Ministry education reports, as Dumbledore leaned back in his chair, and reminisced about his own days as a daring and ruthless teenage miscreant, smiling jovially, and chortling to himself.
*~*~*
AN: Ha ha, just a little random plot bunny that popped into my head, and I just couldn’t let it slip away ... never mind all that homework I should really be doing! :D Please leave a review.
Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters and settings are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. No money is being made from this work. No copyright infringement is intended.