Note: I may have been on crack with this one. Plus, my brain refuses to let me study for the exam I have in about 10 hours.
All Hail James Potter, or Why You Should Both Take A Minute From Your Incessant Shagging To Thank Me, You Ungrateful Gits: A Letter to Mssrs. Sirius O. Black and Remus J. Lupin, from M. James D. Potter.
I, James D. Potter, do hereby declare – oh, sod it. Only Moony ever bothers with this formal shit. So. Listen up, you poofters (and before you get your balls in a knot, Padfoot, I mean that in the way that you are both actually poofters and thus I have nothing to apologize for. NOTHING.)! I have Things to say!
Firstly, I know you both know how to cast Silencing Charms. USE THEM. I am not homophobic, as you once feared, Moony, however I am also not voyeuristic, as you once suggested, Pads. Well, not when it comes to the both of you. Lily Evans is another matter, because one day she will say yes to me and we will get married and shag and shag and shag and have a household full of little blighters who will be ace Quidditch players and sweet little girls with red hair and green eyes who will never know a man's touch and STOP GAGGING PADS just you wait and see.
Just use the damn charm. Even though I have already seen you both naked, I have no need to hear how your various bits are interlocking or whatnot. And I am also aware Moony is quite the beast, though I would like to keep thinking there is only one manner in which to perceive that sentence.
Secondly! I understand this is all very new to you both, this whole being-in-love, you're-my-schnoopums-no-you're-my-schnoopums deal. But spare a thought for your best friend (ie ME) who was not only so absolutely stunningly brilliant that he realised you were both in love, but who also took the great pains and effort to get you two ungrateful sods to realise it. As such, I expect your anniversary date to be thusly named All Hail James Potter Day, during which you will bestow upon me general flattery and generous presents in the form of Lily Evans/The latest Nimbus/Ogden's Best (one or all are acceptable, and kindly note, dear Monsieur Moony, that there are NO BOOKS on that list.) in order to thank me for my selfless and ever so wonderful ways.
I am sure at this point, Pads, you are squawking and doing that thing with your elbow, about how I had absolutely nothing to do with you and Moony getting together, but that is because you are a veritable (ask your boyfriend what this means) idiot. Of course I had almost everything to do with you getting together, seeing as how I knew you were both flaming for each other ever since third year, and also seeing as how I DID HAVE ALMOST EVERYTHING TO DO WITH IT, SO DON'T ARGUE.
Oh, you want proof? Very well then, you disbelieving son of a bitch.
You, Paddykins, fell in love with our Moony sometime around Christmas of Third Year. I know this because the only time you didn't dismiss mistletoe as "disgusting fungi that makes girls grow enough balls to assault a man and outrage his modesty" was when you happened to be caught underneath some with Remus, and although you tried to put up a fuss about not kissing other boys, you took about 30 seconds to cave and then about 3 minutes to attempt to divulge Mr Lupin of his kissing virginity. I would have marked it down as typical Sirius weirdness, but you were GLOWING for about four days after (right up until Remus got mistletoed by Alice Prewett who then developed a sudden case of baldness) and blushing everytime you so much as said his name. Not to mention when you found yourself having to kiss Chin Chang you more or less spat right after and looked like you wanted to cry about being assaulted by the small pretty Ravenclaw.
And its true, so don't deny it. I might even have photographic evidence somewhere, don't make me drag it out. (But isn't your heart so warmed by this tale, Moony? Especially since it took you another year and that whole deal with the Veela Vodka and the coconut bra that I have promised never to mention again to realize you felt the same.)
Anyway, at the end of fourth year, after I figured out my two bestest friends were both utter nancies who, as luck would have it, were in love but both too stupid to figure it out (I don't mean to say you're stupid, Moony, but you have to admit you were pretty damn oblivious.) I realised it was my best-friendly duty to ensure you both lived happily ever after with little canine puppies rolling around in the Forbidden Forest and so on.
Thus began my Great Plan. (D'you approve of my uppercase usage, Moony?)
Well, alright, admittedly the Plan went something like this: Get Sirius and Remus together. The End. But the work involved! The hours planning and plotting! The House-Elves required!
Oh, the work of a martyr is always unappreciated.
But do either of you dare say that if it weren't for my selfless sacrifice to land myself and Peter in detention with McGonagall the time we blew up Greenhouse Six, you wouldn't ever had the conversation where you both admitted you were queer? (Which, by the way, I also arranged to have happen by sneakily planting such thoughts in your heads, like "Yes, I do think Pads would understand about being gay if you told him. Tonight. When you're alone with him." And "I'm sure Moony will be perfecting accepting as always about you fancying yourself some arse, you can find out tonight. When you're alone with him." Do you SEE what I did there? Brilliant, brilliant I am.
Getting you both to admit you were poofters was just the beginning, though. I had to sneakily find ways to get you both alone, without you realizing what I was doing, and without Peter wondering why we had suddenly started to avoid you (not like he minded, bless him, he was still jumpy around you, Pads from the time you charmed his underwear to shrink everytime he spoke to a girl).
Come on, did you really think I offered to tutor Peter in Transfiguration out of the goodness of my heart? Well, in a way it was, since I did it for the both of you and you should both be extremely grateful, do you have any idea how difficult it is to get him to grasp the concept of a firm grip, but not choking the wand? I had to tell him to hold it like he'd hold his cock, and for that ALONE you must bow at my feet.
And honestly, you'd have thought that would be enough, but NO. You are both extremely stubborn buggers who made me lose sleep over HOW INCREDIBLY THICK you were being, and thus forced me to take more decisive action.
Here I will admit something that might possibly be construed as being a bad thing and that you both did not entirely appreciate at the time, but seeing as it eventually led to your current state of bliss and constant shagging, I will not apologize. But should you feel the need to harangue me, might I remind you of the bliss and shagging.
Remus, I was the one who sent Snivellus the love-note from you, knowing that this would lead to Sirius' attempt to stake his claim (and I was right, wasn't I?).
How was I supposed to know the slimy git really did have a crush on you and would act on the suggestions made therein?
Remember now, bliss and shagging!
But now you see, the both of you, all that I have done and sacrificed for my best friends' happiness? I will expect the appropriate exaltation and gratitude to commence at once!
Thirdly and lastly, I mean it. USE THE DAMN SILENCING CHARM, because I now have the entirely useless knowledge that Moony likes it when "you do that thing with your tongue, oh god yes" and that you, Pads, are a total and utter bottom, and I cant even have a wank in peace without you noisy sods completely destroying the image of the lovely Miss Lily Evans, who would never say "that's right, you like my cock, don't you?" and I swear to god I will HURT somebody if I don't get to relieve myself. I know you might find it distasteful to be talking about tossing off, Moony, but not all of us are lucky to have werewolf stamina and a bitch to unleash it upon. (Haha, see what I did there? Because Pads is a dog?)
The wonderful matchmaking best friend of yours to whom you owe your incessant shaggage,