Hello all, PrincessOfTheMoon87 and I come bearing a Marauders Muggle Present day AU. She will be writing in James' POV and I will be writing in Sirius'. If you have a review for a specific author, please leave it on their chapter and address it to them as such. Thanks! Enjoy! Nothing belongs to us!

Sirius

"You'd think," James says from behind me, maneuvering his way through the throng (a great word, that) behind me and trying to balance his tray, "with the amount of money our parents pay for this damn school—oops, sorry about that," I didn't even have to look around to know that James had almost run into one of the Year Nines, considering how each batch seemed to get shorter every year, "the food would be half-way decent."

"It is." I tell him, a few paces ahead with a tray of my own balanced in one hand, James' nicked car keys in the other, "You're just spoilt on Dorea's cooking."

"That's weird." James says, finally catching up to me and matching my stride. He's running his gloved free hand through his hair and has a contemplative look on his face. His nose and cheeks are red and I know both of us will be happier when we reach his car, with heated seats. "What," I ask, not really paying attention. I've known James for so long that it's easy to pick up on patterns—he's going to make some comment about me calling his mum by her first name.

"You call my mum 'Dorea'. Why do you do that again?"

Called it. "What else would I call her?" He's looking at me and his glasses are fogged, eyes blinking owlishly at me as if that will help him. Serves him right for not getting contacts. "Um, maybe, you know, Mrs. Potter."

"Tch," I say, climbing up the steps to the student parking lot. My hands have gone numb and my nose is on the way there. Me and my bloody charity, giving my gloves (the nice leather ones) to Remus, "Rem calls his parents by their first names."

"Yes," James agrees, but I know there's going to be a but, "but Remus' parents are baby-boomer flower-children. Their house house smells like the fun kind of brownies you like to serve at your parties and incense."

"Is that a bad thing?" I ask, unlocking the car and throwing the keys to James who manages to catch them, then sliding into the shot gun seat. "Mary's brownies are excellent, where do you think I get them from?"

"Jesus," James mutters and turns over the engine of the Jaguar XK8, which is nice even for a prep school kid. (Then again, James could probably buy this prep school and still have money left over for tuition...then again, I could too.) Wonderful, glorious, heaven-sent heat blasts through the vents while I reach to the console and turn the seat warmer on. James tears his gloves off and grabs the blanket from the back seat that smells permanently of smoke, and settles it over us.

"It's even more fucking freezing than usual," James says, a sudden, conniving look overcoming his face. Before I can react, James has shouted, "HERE, FEEL," and presses his icicle fingers to my face.

"Oi!" I say, battling his hands away, "What are you, twelve?" I jab him in the ribs and he yelps, narrowly avoiding his hot coffee sitting in the cup holder in front of us. A tap on the window makes the both of us freeze.

Oh, it's only our friendly, neighborhood Remus who has seemed to just finish a fag, stomping it out on the slushy parking lot. I unlock the car and he slides in next to me. It's a tight fit, the two of us, him even taller than I am, but he's all bones and feels even colder than James' hands. "Horrible out there," he says casually. He's dressed about as good as anyone can for this weather; a deep green parka makes his otherwise lean frame bulky, the boots on his feet are surely causing watermarks on the floor that James will yell at Remus for later. His bony hands are wrapped in my gloves and I've never wanted to be a piece of leather so much in my life as he takes them off with his teeth.

James sends me a pointed look. I pointedly ignore James.

Remus unzips his coat a bit and I pull the blanket over him. "No Pete today?" James asks. Remus shakes his head, static frizzed hair that hasn't kept to its place in his pony tail waving about his face, "Had to make up a test for Flitwick."

"Poor bloke." I say. James has settled in and reaches to turn the radio on, mindlessly flipping to a station on his presets. I know Remus and I are fucked even before the chorus starts playing.

"I'm gonna pop some tags

Only got twenty dollars in my pocket—"

"God, James, please, turn it off, what have we done to spite you?"

"James, we'll do whatever you want, but turn it off!"

Unfortunately, Rem and I aren't so lucky as James starts to sing along. Dorea and Charlus wasted their money on music lessons for James as a child because damn, is he ever off-key. If one can even be off-key when rapping, that is.

"I-I'm a hunting, looking for a come-up.

This is fucking awesome."

Remus, obviously having enough, leans across my lap and I get a very nice view of his back as he tries to change the station, only to end up being conquered by James. I jab Jamie in the ribs again and turn off the music. "And that's final," I say.

James pouts, I ignore him.

Our food has gotten cold by the time we actual unwrap it from the greasy paper it was put in. I don't mind though, the taste doesn't really change much, even though James is pouting the whole time. "It's pizza, James," Remus says, "you like pizza."

James retorts but I don't hear it. Rem's shifted a bit, closer to me and our thighs are now touching. Then I realize, he's looking for a bit more heat. "You're freezing," I say quietly to him. Remus gives a half shrug, "I'll be fine." Shaking my head, I wiggle out of my coat as best I can and drape it over his shoulders. "You'll get sick," I say, "and we both know what happens when you get sick." He nods in defeat and settles back into my coat.

James is looking at me, at us, so I ignore it and change the subject. "We still setting off those fireworks in the girls' locker rooms on Friday?"

"Got the fireworks today," James says, and I can finally relax now that he's got his mind off the very gay happenings in the next seat over.

.

.

.

Lunch hour comes to an end with James suggesting we meet behind the pool house on Friday during lunch. Remus returns my coat, though I make him keep the gloves, "We're meeting up at your place after school to do that history project, aren't we? I'll get them then." He looks like he wants to protest but decides against it. "All right, I'll be by your bike after the bell, and don't bloody be late. It's too fucking cold out." He leaves, flipping up the hood of his parka and lighting another fag.

I go to follow him into the school where the faulty heating system from fifty years ago is better than no heating system at all when James catches my arm, "So it's him then, yeah?"

I pull out of his grip. "Maybe."

"Well." He says.

"Well." I agree.

"Do you realize that if you break up, the group is done for?" Bloody Potter, putting the group before me, but then again, that's what matters the most, that's what's solid.

"Do you realize that Remus Lupin is almost surely straight?" I counter.

He sighed through his nose and ruffles his hair again, "My best friend has a crush on another one of my friends. Sounds like one of those bad romcoms my mum likes."

"Forget it, James."

"I can't just forget this—look, after your study...whatever it is...with Remus, drop by."

"How do I explain this to Dorea?"

"Hell if I know, your problem, mate! See ya after Chem!" He jogs ahead of me, leaving me very stuck next to his XK8.

James' POV next by the lovely PrincessOfTheMoon87, reviews are love!