A/N: Good morning/afternoon/evening/whenever, dear readers! Once again, insanity strikes, in the form of me! Technically, I should go to bed, because I’m typo city here, and finding everything inordinately funny, but you get a story instead!
Of note: This chapter title refers not only to part of the “plot” (I use the term loosely) of the chapter, but to the number of rather inappropriate jokes I hope to get away with. That’s right, earning that raised rating! >:D
This chappie’s sponsors! My music! YouTube! Weird, weird, weird convos with friends. I thank you.
It was late late late one Tuesday, and some members of the Order of the Phoenix were milling about the basement kitchen in number twelve, Grimmauld Place. Two things were casting light on the gloomy room: one was a fire crackling in the grate, the other was a glowing box thing on the table.
Currently, Tonks was sitting in front of the box, looking curiously at it, while moving around a weird little lumpy thing attached to the box with a cord. Moody was looking suspiciously over her shoulder.
“I don’t like this thing,” he gruffed, pulling out his hip flask and taking a swig of its contents.
“You don’t like anything, Mad-Eye,” Tonks said, still watching the box.
“Sure I do.”
“Name one thing.”
“Liquor?
Tonks stopped for a minute. “I stand corrected.”
“What are you guys doing?” came a voice from the kitchen door. Tonks and Moody looked up; Lupin had just entered the room and was looking questioningly from them to the box.
“Hey, Remus,” said Tonks. “The Order just got a computer.”
“How’s that thing powered? This is a wizard house.”
“All the magical interference actually powers it. That and we’re stealing cable from the neighbors.”
“Ah. So, what are you doing with this computer?”
“Well, right now I’m trying to set up our website, but it’s kind of a pain. These chaps called the Warner Brothers already took a lot of the Order of the Phoenix domain names…”
“They’re onto us…” Moody muttered darkly.
Tonks just rolled her eyes. “Moody’s not to keen on the idea, of course, but everyone else seems interested enough. Of course, none of them can help. I think I might need some tech support…”
“Sorry to be late,” said the author, wandering in with a Dr Pepper and a plate of nachos. “I was getting a midnight snack, you see. I notice you got the idiot box set up; don’t expect me to be tons of help with a website, I don’t have one. Yet.”
“I’m not speaking to you,” said Tonks, frowning at the box.
“What? Let’s be technical, I haven’t killed you off yet.”
“You’re going to.”
“Eventually. But I haven’t yet!”
“I think I missed something…” Lupin said vaguely.
“The author has another fanfic,” Moody started to explain, “where you and Tonks snuff it in a couple chapters. I don’t know what your problem is, I died before the thing even started.”
“Oh,” said Lupin. “Well, that’s not terribly pleasant to hear.”
“Don’t worry about it,” the author assured. “It’s a total bit of nonsense. Which, come to think of it, I oughta finish before Deathly Hallows comes out.”
“Um, good luck with that then,” Lupin said, inching away from the author, who was now sitting at the table, prying nachos apart.
Tonks looked up from the computer screen, seeming about to say something to the approaching Lupin, but instead stopped and said, “Remus, why are you wearing a scarf? It’s July.”
“Uh, it’s part of my look?”
“……..No it isn’t.”
“Sure it is! I’m sickly and need warmth. And chocolate. I always have lots of chocolate on hand.”
There was a pause. “What the crap, Remus? That makes no sense. Now you owe me chocolate for making me listen to that.”
Lupin sighed, reached into his pocket, pulled out a bar of chocolate, and handed it over to Tonks, who pocketed it.
“Do I get chocolate?” asked Moody.
Lupin sighed again, pulled another bar out of his pocket, and gave it to Moody.
“What about me?” piped up the author.
“No. You’re mean.”
“Awww…” The author gave Lupin the puppy dog eyes.
“Oh, fine.” He tossed a bar down the table.
“Yay!”
Then quite suddenly, to keep the action rolling because the author hates down time in stories and heck knows we don’t need no stinking transitions in this story, Snape swept into the room. Of course. You didn’t think I’d leave him out, did you?
“No one speak to me for a moment,” he said to the room at large. “I’ve got to try and repress the last eight hours.” He sat heavily in the closest chair and banged his head on the table. “I was at the pub,” he told himself. “Yes, at the pub, being hit on by hordes of gorgeous women. Not a one of those women was Bellatrix, no sir, they were all perfectly sane, except that they were hitting on me, and none had eyeglasses, but they all had really nice-“
“Wait, you spent the last eight hours with Bellatrix?” asked Lupin. “No wonder you’re so late.”
Snape peeled his head off the table to look at Lupin. “You make everything sound so scandalous,” he said. “For your information, we were helping the Dark Lord pick out eye wear.”
“Voldemort needs glasses?”
“Apparently, his eyes, while stylish and frighteningly red, don’t see as well as they used to.” Snape rolled his own. “So we spent several hours picking out frames. And that was after I got roped into playing bass for a couple of bands, as well as being the head sound tech.” He banged his head back on the table. “So yes, a long day, and now I’m repressing it. Where was I? Oh yes, at the pub. With the gorgeous women. Really nice-“
“Hey Snape,” Tonks asked. “D’you know anything about computers?”
He looked up again. “A bit. Why do you ask?”
“I’m trying to set up the Order’s website, but it’s not going so well.”
“Ah, waging war on the Dark Lord with the Muggle medium of the Internet?”
“Whatever works.”
“It might interest you that the Dark Lord has an e-mail address now.”
“Really?” Moody said, raising an eyebrow. “Why didn’t you say so sooner?”
“Now he’s interested,” Tonks muttered. “Wait, that’s it! If we get our website set up, we can send a lot of annoying e-mails, so he can’t get any important letters from the Death Eaters!”
“Actually, that’s not a bad idea…” said Lupin.
“You’re just agreeing ‘cause it’s Tonks,” said the author with a sly grin.
“I’m not speaking to you now, either.”
“You don’t even need a website to send out spam letters, you just need a lot of fake e-mail addresses,” Snape said, getting up and moving over to look at the computer also. “Besides, wouldn’t a lot of letters from the Order of the Phoenix in the inbox of the Dark Lord arouse some suspicion?”
“OK then, where do we start?” Tonks asked Snape.
“Oh, I know of quite a few free e-mail sites…”
“You sound like you’ve done this before.”
“I might’ve.”
*Meawhile!*
“Petunia! It’s another batch of fake e-mails from this Half-blood Prince fellow! Find me the number for Interpol!”
*Back at Grimmauld place!*
“Alright, so what should we use for an address?” said Tonks.
“Something fairly innocuous. Make sure we don’t make anyone suspicious.”
“OotP?”
“Uh, no.”
“TeH oRdEr?”
“No teen girl spellings! Perhaps I should just make them…”
“Fine, you do it if you’re so clever.” Tonks got up from the chair she was in and stood to the side, arms folded; Snape sat down instead and started typing.
He worked for a couple of minutes in silence, while the other three watched.
“Crap, he is better than me,” said Tonks.
“I’d work even better if someone got me some coffee…” Snape suggested.
Everyone looked over at the author, who paused in mid-swig of Dr Pepper and stared back at them.
“What?” the author asked. “Just because I make coffee at work sometimes, doesn’t mean I’m gonna do it now.”
“Oh yes it does,” said Snape.
“Make Lupin do it. Everyone knows you hate him.”
“Good idea. Lupin, get me some coffee.”
“I don’t know where the stuff to make it is,” he answered quickly.
“Coffee grounds are in the panrty,” Moody said, his magical eye swiveling around. “The coffee pot….argh, that psycho house elf got a hold of it; it’s in the drawing room now.”
Lupin sighed. “I’ll go get it…”
“Careful, that mad snuff tin got out of the china cabinet again.”
“Don’t worry, Alastor, I think I can handle it.”
“Need any help finding the coffee pot?” Tonks chimed in.
“Yeah, I might,” Lupin said.
“I can just tell you where it is,” Moody said, as the other two left. “Or not.”
“Bah, they’ll find it,” Snape said. “They just have to summon it. I’d do it from here, but knowing my luck, it’d hit the one support beam holding this place together and we’d all die horribly. That and I’m too lazy to.”
The kitchen fell into silence for a little while. Only the intermittent sound of Snape typing was heard.
“Geez, what’s taking them so long?” Moody asked after a few minutes.
“They’re probably going about it the hard way,” Snape said. “I expect they’ll be back shortly. Or else I’m tempting fate and summoning the thing.”
Luckily for Snape, Tonks and Lupin entered the room just then.
“Get the coffee pot?” asked Snape, glancing up from the computer screen.
Tonks and Lupin looked at each other. Then Lupin said, “Oops,” and ducked back out of the room.
“Tonks, any reason why you’re wearing Lupin’s scarf?” the author asked casually, peeling a pair of nachos apart.
“Lupin’s…?”
“Yes, Lupin’s scarf. The one he alleged he wore because he’s sickly and needs warmth.”
“Oh, well…Remus, he…well, he’s a bit of a biter”I mean!” she suddenly spoke very loudly, as if that would nullify the incredibly kinky statement she’d just made, “It’s very cold! And drafty! Yes, very cold, and drafty, in this basement. So Remus lent me his scarf.”
“I thought he was the one that was in need of warmth?”
“Well, yes, but my need is greater right now.”
“Is that why you’re wearing his sweater too?”
“Wha?” She looked down. “Um, yes.”
“Maybe you’d be warmer if you were wearing pants…”
“What?!” She looked down again. “Hey, I’m wearing pants!”
“I know. But the mere fact that I got you to look made it all worth it.” The author grinned, then got hit upside the head by a rolled up newspaper Tonks was wielding. “Ow! What is everyone’s utter fascination with causing me head trauma?!”
There was a rather inappropriate slurping noise from the other end of the table; the author and Tonks looked over to see Snape sipping from a Styrofoam cup, and Moody sniffing suspiciously at a similar cup.
“This is some gooood coffee,” Snape said, with a smirk. “What did you say it was called again?”
“I can’t pronounce it,” replied the author. “It had about four c’s in it, and a couple of z’s.”
“Wait, where’d you get coffee?” Tonks asked, looking between Snape and the author.
“There’s a Starbucks across the street. While you and Lupin were upstairs ‘finding the coffee pot,’” the author made finger quote marks. “I went and got some illicit brew for our desperate friends here. And I managed to come back wearing my own clothing!” Tonks hit the author with the rolled up paper again.
The door opened again, and Lupin walked in, silver pot in hand. “Hey, I found it!”
“Good for you! If only we still needed coffee…” Snape said, smiling nastily.
Lupin frowned. “Fine, I’ll go make some for myself then.” And he stalked off into the pantry.
Tonks rolled her eyes and said, “I’ll go talk to him…”
“Yeah, ‘talk,’” said the author, pulling out more quote fingers. “I’ve got a feeling it’s not coffee beans you’ll be grinding in there.”
There was a sputtering from the other end of the table. “OK, I just snorted a lot of my drink…” Snape said.
Tonks whacked the author with the paper once more, for good measure, and followed Lupin. Her hand was on the doorknob of he pantry when the author called, “Hey Tonks!”
“What?”
“Just turn your collar up,” the author mouthed, miming the same action.
“Shut up…” Tonks mouthed back.
A/N: Oh geez…You know that phrase, about “give them an inch, they’ll take a mile”? I think this would perfectly describe this chapter. Like, barely anything about Tonks/Lupin, and then they’re trading sweaters…I guess late late night to early early morning makes me kinda dirty. >:D
Anyway, if you think I’m an idiot, send me a review saying so! If you think I’m brilliant, seek professional help. After sending a review. (You think I’ll have to raise the rating again?)