Here We Come A-Whating??

by firechild (fc//Hufflepuff)

Rated K

Disclaimer: Not mine.

Warning: Um... Wrong on so many levels? ;) Slight allusion to corporal punishment.

A/N: Written for deadly_lemonade.

WC: 443

-----

"And just how do you propose we explain this?"

"Easy. We don't."

James shot Sirius a look that clearly said, "You're off your nut--in fact, your nut seems to have left the castle with no forwarding address," and continued to pace back and forth across the musty 'great' room of the shack, running his hand through his already-hopeless hair. "We don't. That's your solution. We don't try to explain why the potions lab is currently filled to the brim--and then some--with... biscuits... because *your*" he stopped and stabbed the air as he pointed at Sirius, "brilliant-beyond-brilliant prank went hooey and you can't figure out how to undo your own mess. You do realize that everyone will know it was us, if they don't already. If we don't have anything to say for ourselves, well... we might as well pull out our own teeth; you know that'd be kinder than what'll happen to us when Fodgen gets hold of us. Or my dad." He winced at the thought. While he was no stranger to trouble, it was a little odd that this time it wasn't his idea that was landing him there--while Sirius was a clever companion, James was generally the ringleader and, therefore, held more responsible. Not that he was looking forward to facing the music (the school's or his parents',) but while that was a little bit gut-clenching, his unease came from the idea of Sirius taking more severe consequences. His discomfiture came out as frustration. "Why couldn't you at least have come up with a counterspell before we did this? And really, Paddy--eggnog-soaked shortbread?!"

"It's shortbread, James! There's no such thing as too much shortbread! Or eggnog!"

And James reminded Sirius of that every day for the next week as they, along with a resigned Remus and a pouting Peter, served their official sentence--one hour a day of eating away at the ridiculously massive... mass of soggy shortbread (without their wands) followed by two hours a day of caroling all over the school (and they weren't even allowed to use the good lyrics--they had to stick with the traditional, boring stuff, under the close eye of Stodgy Fodgen.) James was just glad that at least this time his dad hadn't done what he usually did when his son got into trouble at school--he'd been too busy trying not to laugh. Still, James knew for a fact that he would never be able to look at shortbread again.

Too bad his mum had baked him a double-batch of shortbread biscuits. Shaped like tiny paddles. And she posted them to him the last day of winter exams.

Parents. They thought they were funny.

-----