Disclaimer: Still lazy.


Epic-logue (get it? get it?)

I picked up the box and stepped over to the hearth. "Number twelve Grimmauld Place," I said, throwing a fistful of floo powder into the fireplace. I stepped into the flames – now green – and stepped out in the Order's headquarters a moment later. I irritatedly cast a cleaning charm – someone ought to clean the sodding fireplace– on myself.

"Severus!" Potter shouted. "You came!" Of course I did.

"Grudgingly," I said, though it was obvious that not even the brat was fooled. I scowled at him, and attempted to distract him by shoving the box at him. Naturally, it worked. The teenage mind was, after all, a fickle thing.

He hurriedly removed the lid. "Cake!" he exclaimed, his face lighting up with childish delight. He ran to the kitchen, I followed in a slightly more dignified pace. The cake was resting on a large platter on the table when I entered the room. As I watched, Potter set the table with two plates and two teaspoons.

"Where is the mutt?" I asked him.

"Oh, you mean Sirius?" he asked, though he knew very well that I was, indeed, referring to him. "He's not here." I looked at me and winked. "I told him you were coming." Good. I had not been looking forward to seeing Black again, now it seemed I would not have to. Potter took a seat, and motioned for me to do the same. He cut two large slices of the cake, serving one to me and one to himself. He smiled at me, before taking a bite of the cake. Immediately, his face twisted in a disgusted grimace. I smirked. "You do know that I hate banana, don't you?" he asked.

"Yes," I answered simply, taking a bite of the cake myself.

The boy laughed lightly, before taking another bite. "God, this tastes like crap!" he exclaimed. I quickly hid my smile by taking another bite of the cake.

"So," he said, "did you get me a present?"

"Present?" I asked, feigning ignorance.

"You promised to get me a present," he stated.

"I got you a cake," I said, shrugging.

The boy nodded gravely, then raised an eyebrow; clearly seeing through my bluff. I snorted, before extricating a box from my pocket and enlarging it.

"Happy birthday, Harry," I said, handing him the present.


The End. Frickin' finally.


AN: This was the last chapter. Since I am lazy, I thought it was best to make a shorter story - rather than abandon it halfway through. I hope this story has provided you with at least a modicum of amusement. What did you think of the end? Reviews are greatly appreciated and rewarded with invisible, utterly useless, potatoes that do not truly exist.