030. 3 october 1976. mad breakfast party.

October 3, 1976 — 08:35 hours.
Hogwarts, Scotland
Dining Hall


It's a Sunday at Hogwarts, and while there are a good deal of early risers, a greater part of the student body appears to still be asleep, completely oblivious to the shameless display of public affection going on right next to James Potter and the other Marauders.

James rolls his eyes for the hundredth time that morning alone and leans into his toast.

"This could use more jam," he says conversationally to Remus, who is staring at Sirius Black and Perdita Pennifold snogging with an expression of helpless disgust.

Prefect or not, Sirius is their best friend and it's terribly hard to tell someone off on a weekend morning as it is.

"Pass me the jam, Moony," James prompts, snapping his fingers in front of the other boy's face.

"Uh — oh. Right." Remus blinks, grabbing the jar of apricot jam and sliding it forward. He turns back to his eggs and pokes at them with his fork, very purposefully focusing on them.

Peter looks as though he wants to drown himself in his porridge. He's hunched over his bowl, both elbows on the table.

James gives him a sympathetic look when they meet eyes.

This is honestly a bit pathetic. Look at the three of them, he thinks, reduced to embarrassed husks of their former selves.

"Mm — that'sh a bhit too much bread, Perdi —" Sirius says, laughing as he struggles to chew the chunk of bread she had just hand-fed him.

Perdita giggles. "Oh, I'm sorry, Sirikins," she says, adopting a cloyingly apologetic tone.

Then she brings her thumb up to wipe at some invisible crumb from his mouth.

Ugh.

"They're just so loud about it," Remus mumbles.

James rues the day they ever woke up this morning to find Sirius and Perdita already in the Common Room, holding hands and snogging. When he checked the clock, he was utterly flummoxed to find that it wasn't even eight o'clock yet.

Before eight and the two of them were already at it.

James accidentally stabs his toast with his knife, all the way through to the ceramic plate at the bottom. It makes a distinct chinking sound. "Bugger."

"— wait," Sirius is saying. "You've got syrup from the pancakes on your face."

Perdita blinks, staring at him with an obvious doe-eyed expression of obliviousness.

James wants to hex them both.

"What?" she asks. "Where?"

Sirius laughs. "It's right there!"

"Here?"

"No — here, let me get it. On your chin. Right —"

Sirius leans forward and licks it — bloody licks it — from her chin.

Right.

James puts his knife down.

That's it.

Remus' eyes have widened to the size of saucers. Peter chokes on a spoonful of his porridge and starts to cough.

James gets to his feet.

"Yeah, we're going over there now," he says, gesturing towards the other end of the table where Lily, Cliona and the other girls are seated, having breakfast in peace.

Remus and Peter rise to follow without a word of complaint or otherwise.

Remus shakes his head. "I'm almost tempted to take 50 points from Gryffindor for that. But we're all in Gryffindor."

"Right." James approaches the girls. "Good morning, Evans. D'you mind if we take you up on sitting here?"