Hello, and welcome to…

Insight - 2

James woke up. Without even opening his eyes, he knew it was 20 minutes too early to get out of bed. So he yawned, stretched, and tried to roll over, but couldn’t. He tried again, and this time, someone giggled.

James opened his eyes to find Sirius sitting on his chest.

“WHAT THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU’RE DOING.”

“Good morning!” said Sirius, who bounced off the bed and landed not-so-gracefully on the floor. “Ready for breakfast?”

James scowled. “Does it look like I’m ready for breakfast?”

Sirius shrugged and walked off, heading towards Remus’s bed, probably to wake him up in a similar disturbing manner.

James rolled over and addressed Sirius through the corner of pillowcase he was chewing. “Why are you uph so earhly?”

The answer was apparently, “GOOD GOD, SIRIUS!” James accepted this and promptly fell back asleep.

“No more sleeping for you, little stag,” said Sirius from Remus’s bed.

Remus was recovering. “You pronounce the word ‘little’ really creepily.”

“I try. PRONGS. UP. NOW. Remember my amazing breakfast speech I’m going to give today? You wouldn’t want to miss it, would you?”

“As a point of interest,” said Remus, “breakfast isn’t for another hour.”

“I am fully aware of that, however, we’re going to seize the moment and get up now.” And with that, Sirius walked over to where the “little stag” was sleeping and began prodding him in the stomach.

“Stop it, you dumb dog,” James mumbled.

By this time, the entire dorm was half-awake and very angry.

“They’re going to start foaming soon,” noted Remus, pointing to the gang of half-dead zombies that were sitting up in their beds and glaring. “Also, why has no one woken Peter up?”

“Can we move on, please? Fine, I’m going down by myself, and you guys are going to miss a fantastic speech.”

-

Somehow, the disgruntled Marauders all made it down to breakfast and sat in the middle of the house table.

“Perfect spot for my speech,” explained Sirius. “Everyone will be able to see me.”

Remus was staring off into space, when suddenly, a rotten banana appeared on his plate. “What the—Sirius? Why is there a—”

“No time to talk. Must prepare.”

“But—James—what the hell—”

“Why did you bring a rotten banana to breakfast, Remus?” asked Peter curiously.

“I didn’t bring the damned thing, it just appeared there!”

“Strange,” said Peter, and then began stuffing his face.

Remus pointed accusingly at the offending banana, then turned and glared at Sirius. “If you are in any way behind this, I swear I’ll—”

“Remus, if I gave you a banana, you can be sure it wouldn’t be rotten and shriveled.” The suggestive statement and closely following creepy wink did nothing to ease the poor boy’s freak-out. So Remus did the next most sensible thing, which was to flail his arms helplessly.

James had fallen asleep in his pudding. His left eye twitched approximately every ten seconds, slowly and methodically being filled with pudding goo.

“Okay, I believe the time has come,” said Sirius. He stood up on his chair, put one foot on the table, and cleared his throat, which accumulated about six listeners. So he jumped up on the table and shook it a bit, which garnered him the ears of about 25 people. Pretty soon, the entire Gryffindor table was listening, or at least staring, and a few people in other houses were, too.

“Ahem,” said Sirius loudly. James woke up and immediately began clawing at his pudding-filled eye.

“Students of Hogwarts, and I’m mainly talking to creepy underclassman girls here, but anyway, I have an announcement, which I am about to announce…”

By this point, half the people listening had lost interest, and the teachers had begun to notice the commotion.

“I’d like to tell you that making shirts with my face on them doesn’t make me love you, and furthermore—”

Then someone threw an orange, and it all went downhill from there.

That evening, at 7:00, Sirius reported to Filch and began his half-hearted cleaning of trophies. Filch had deemed that the whole breakfast-food-fight-during-unfinished-speech catastrophe had been Sirius’s fault, for reasons that the poor puppy couldn’t understand, but that were very clear to everyone else.

-

“Damn pudding,” James scowled as he rubbed his now-red eye with a wet washcloth.

Sorry this was late. I’m no longer promising regular updates because I know I won’t make the deadline. XD

-Lu