"I still say Sirius jr. "

"No— what if he went on to portray his namesake?"

"Perfection will strike again!"

"More like pretension, Padfoot..."

"Hey, what about naming him after me? Then he'll be... ermm... like me. Maybe?"

"Wormtail, no one wants him to be like you. Moony, what does pretension mean?"

"Pretension, noun. Ostentatious display..."

"What's an osernation?"

"OSTENTATIOUS things are like, when something is showy, or flashy. Man Womtail, even I know that!"

"Gotten to the O's, have we?"

"Moony, I swear to every deity I don't believe in and the one god I do, I don't read the dictionary! I read books! Really, just because you don't see me reading them..."

"Those 'books' you read aren't exactly literature. I highly doubt they're flowing with words that might enhance your lexicon. You've been reading the dictionary, Padfoot. Again."

"When did he read the dictionary before, Moony?"

"SHUT UP!" shouted James, who was wondering why he had even bothered telling his friends that he was going to have a boy— now they all wanted to "honour him by naming his firstborn". Mind you, he had no idea how it was an honour to listen to this banter, which stayed on topic as well as a niffler on a trapeze, and he was about to hex himself. Besides, Lily was going to chose the name with James. She did not want Sirius or Remus or Peter to name her child. It was their baby, who they had made without any help from his friends (if the baby had been made with assistance, then said helper would die, painfully). But they, and only they, the actual parents, damn well had the right to name their kid. Without this lousy din.

"If you lot want to name a kid, then why don't you go out and have one?" James said, on the verge of strangling his fellow Marauders. Perhaps he would have more patience if his most darling Lily wasn't crazy with oarmoans, or whatever the hell she said pregnancy did. It was probably a load of rubbish excuse that some clever female muggle healer came up with so her husband would become her slave and fetch her nauseating combinations of food. He prayed that the oarmones weren't contagious, though his friends were beginning to think they were. "I have to deal with Lily all on my own, so if you want to name a baby so badly get your own."

"Great idea!" Sirius said enthusiastically, "Worms, go out and get married and knock up some chick so I can name your kid Sirius jr.!"

"Don't call me Worms!"

"Yeah, at least call him Peter..."

"Besides, if I were to have a kid, I'd name it myself..."

"Myself? That's a horrible name."

"Huh?"

"Oh, Peter, you really need to sharpen up a bit."

"Sharpen what?"

"Don't listen to Moony, Worms! He's trying to invade your mind and ruin it with logic and intelligence! Don't let him fool you!"

"Are you all right Sirius? You're acting a little odder than usual..."

"I never act odd! I act plays! Like Shakespeare!"

All the Mauraders gave Sirius a look combining pity and vague alarm.

"Hey! I have an idea— why don't we all combine our names? Like Retius? Or Rerter?"

"What about me? Petmusius? Or Petimus? "

"But my name part should be first! Siretus, or Simer."

"That's stupid Padfoot!" recited Remus, for the seventeenth time that day. Not that Remus John Lupin actually counted the number of times he told Sirius he was stupid. Or sexy. No, nothing like that.

"No it's not!" Sirius said.

"Simmer? He'd be teased by every other kid. 'Put the pot-ter on simmer! Har har har'. Just because you enjoyed the bad puns made on your name doesn't mean he will!" Remus rolled his eyes.

"But 'Sirius-ly'"

"Oh come on! You're just a stupid, hairy, scoundrel of a mutt!"

"You shut-up you...you... erm... smelly werewolf! Besides, you're hairier than I am!"

"He has a point Moony... your nose hair is twice as long as Padfoot's."

"Nose hair? That's hardly an argument! Your back is the hairiest of all of ours Peter!"

James continued to watch the banter, his irritation growing at a rate that would rival the teeth of someone under densaugeo.

"Moony is right about that..." Padfoot added.

"A: It's fur. 2: Sirius is hairiest when we're transformed..."

"You realise that you just said 'a', then '2'— the alphabet goes 'a' then 'b'..."

James really, really, didn't understand why he invited his friends over in the first place.

"Stop being a sore loser Sirius, or should I say Hairius?" Even Remus had stooped down to the incredibly inferior intellectual level of his friends.

"But you're 'Nose Hairiest' . Ew. I don't want to be 'Back Hair-air-err...' " Peter grimaced.

"It's ok Peter, Hair-er. Despite that being awkward, you're still better than Prongs— he didn't start shaving until seventh year... and he still barely does..."

This was the last straw for James, whose yelling was accented with soaring spittle.

"I told you that I just wanted to grow it out! And why should it matter? I'm just as manly as you! So manly, I actually HAVE a wife, who, if you haven't forgotten by now, is pregnant with MY child, who will be named by MY WIFE and ME! Shut up Moony. So stop your ridiculous banter, honestly." James took a deep breath. "And my hair does grow quick enough anyway. You guys are just jealous I didn't have to shave!" James said defensively, annoyance forgotten and arrogance found.

The other three men looked at James with raised eyebrows, slightly afraid. Apparently, the explosive temper his wife possessed truly was contagious.

"I'm just as hairy as any of you! Why— I could name my kid Harry because he'd have so much hair like ME!" James proclaimed, entirely too loudly, waving his arms like a toddler demanding an ice cream, for emphasis— and possibly for an ice cream.

"That's a great idea Prongs!" Sirius said, happily looking at his friends.

"Yes, I'm so glad we provided inspiration— I knew we would come through!" Peter smiled.

"I can't wait to hear what Lily thinks of this wonderful news! Baby Harry— hairier than Prongs, Moony, Padfoot and Wormtail combined!" Sirius exclaimed jovially. He muttered with equal joy but more mischief, "Unless he gets his dad's genes."

"Are you implying my wife is hairy, Sirius?"

"Yeah, how would you know anyway?" said Remus, slightly hurt.

"I think my beans are imploding because I left the stove on at the castle! Bye!" Sirius fled rather swiftly out the door and a loud crack was heard.

"Erm... doesn't he live at a flat? Umm... next door?"

"Yes, he does Wormtail, I'm most surprised that his beans are imploding, rather than exploding. In fact, I'm quite shocked that Sirius knows what imploding is... he probably doesn't just heard me... oh well. I believe I should go— it's getting late and Sirius is... well." Remus looked oddly flustered for a second, before he recovered. "Congrats Prongs!"

"Yeah— I'm sure baby Harry won't be hairy like Lily is..."

"My wife isn't hairy! She's... erm... fuzzy?" James watched Remus and Wormtail walk out of his home. "Bye guys." He said weakly.

"Harry Potter... Harry Potter... or... Harry James Potter— yes, I like that! Very catchy! Has a bit of a ring to it that does! " James said, as Lily walked in, shaking off her raincoat and hanging it on a bronze hook by the door.

The woman sighed in annoyance. "No James dear, you already gave me the ring. See?" she held up her hand, "We're married." Lily spoke slowly, as though to a toddler, "Now I'm pregnant— that means I'm going to have a bay-bee." She muttered something about getting stuck with the thick one; of course, she didn't specify what was thick, so James mentally forgave her.

"I know that love, I was just talking about what we're going to name him. The lads were just over, and I told them... "

"It's not Sirius jr.- or some stupid name combination like Retius it is?"

"No..." James swore Lily was secretly a Legilimens sometimes. He hoped it didn't have anything to do with the way she'd defend Snivellus, but Lily assured him she never had romantic feelings for the Slytherin. She must just be spying on her husband randomly to confuse him. Yes, so he thinks he won't get away with the occational practical joke. The quiche incident last year had made her rather suspicious whenever he cooked now. How was he to know her sister and parents couldn't take a joke? It's not like pigs were that dangerous, after all...

"Oh god! It's not Simer is it? I wouldn't put it past them... Simer Potter... sadistic but funny..."

"No, no, no! They aren't that mean! Well, maybe almost, but it's Harry. It's Harry! Very Harry! You know? Harry James Potter! Yeah?"

"Are they still on about me being hairy? Is that it? That ONE TIME the walked in on me" Lily growled, her hand itching for the wand in her robe pocket.

"No, it was after themselves, sort of." He faltered as his wife became more cross. "I swear. But the name! Do you like it? I think it's quite catchy myself: Star Catcher Harry Potter? Minister Harry Potter! Auror Harry Potter!"

Lily smirked dreamily, "Oh yes! Prefect Harry Potter— or Head Boy Harry Potter! Professor Harry Potter! Headmaster Harry Potter!"

"Don't be silly Lily," James chuckled, "No son of mine would bother being a prefect or something silly like Head Boy— he'd be Quidditch Captain! Or start an underground ninja club and head that..."

"He's my son too... and not a ninja. How do you even know what a ninja is? Don't answer that. Oh dear, Is trouble-making a dominant gene? Or is it recessive?" Lily suddenly looked a bit worried.

"We'll find out in five months." James's countenance gained gaiety. "I can't believe we're going to have a baby, " he whispered.

"Yes, it's wonderful— as long as he isn't too much like you, there's already enough Prongs I have to deal with."

"You do deal with 'a lot' of Prongs, don't you?"

"Yes, it could be more, though that might kill me."

"Oh, it would." James waggled his eyebrows.

"Sure James, but I really hope he's a little... differently mannered than you."

"Why do you hope perfection is— oh what's that word... recessive?"

"No, I hope its dominant; I want him to be like me."

James looked at her in mock indignation, "Me? Not perfect?"

Lily scrunched her nose, "Well... perfect for me..." she smiled, putting her arms around her husband's neck, "I love you James."

"I love you too."

James kissed his wife on the nose, mumbling, "Even though I have less hair."