Author's Note: This is a short oneshot that I wrote for cgner in celebration of the fact that she finally posted her multi-chaptered (and brilliant, and completed, so everyone should read it immediately) fic, The White Album. I also wrote it in celebration of cgner herself. Lifted from the Haggis from Algernon universe, I don't even mind if nobody else really gets it. It's a present for her.

Once Upon a Goat

"Potter!" Lily Evans cried, and barged into James Potter's dorm room. In her left hand she held what once had been a book, but was now a misshapen lump of masticated paper. "I need to talk to you immediately!"

"It's happening!" James Potter cried in response, and jumped up from his bed, where he had been lazing. He started to pull his t-shirt off. "Moony, Sirius, Peter, get out. Evans and I are going to need some privacy."

Lily reeled back in horror, and Peter Pettigrew, Remus Lupin and Sirius Black, Potter's assembled friends, stayed right where they were. Potter didn't notice this, as the shirt had gotten stuck over his head.

"If that shirt leaves your body I will hex you," Lily threatened, pulling her wand from her robe pocket. Potter stopped struggling to undress and blinked at her confusedly, peeping over the edge of his shirt, which was still half-stuck over his face.

"So… to what do I owe the pleasure?"

"Are you serious?" she squeaked, eyes wide. "You turned Terry Heaney into a goat again!"

Sirius Black guffawed at this, but Peter Pettigrew and Remus Lupin, who were sat on the same bed, examining a piece of parchment, stayed silent. Potter went a little pink, but appeared otherwise nonplussed. He righted his t-shirt and crossed his arms.

"What makes you think that, Evans?"

"Well, for one, there's a goat in the common room."

"That could be there for any number of reasons."

"Oh really?"

"Could be someone's pet," Sirius Black provided.

"It says owl, cat or toad on the school letters, not owl, cat or goat."

"Could be some crazy student who thinks they're above the law," said Potter.

"Yeah," piped up Peter. "Like how James brought a broomstick with him in first year."

"They say I was the greatest shot this house had at Quidditch glory." Potter's eyes misted over. "Sometimes the rules have to be bent in order to attain eternal glory. I didn't get a say in my decision. My talent demanded to be given its rights. I was drawn to the pitch, like a moth to the candle."

"You got a detention for turning up at try-outs with your own broomstick, if I recall correctly," said Remus, smirking, while Lily shook her head and attempted to make sense of this twaddle.

"The men upstairs don't realise that sometimes sacrifices need to be made in order to-"

"The goat, Potter?" interrupted Lily. "Maybe before you spend the next hour bragging about yourself and your Quidditch accomplishments, you'd like to explain why you transfigured the poor boy into a farm animal?"

"What makes you so sure that it's Terry Heaney?"

"His name is written on a sign hung around his neck," Lily replied coldly. "A sign that also implores people to laugh at him."

"How'd you know that's not a copycat artist, or Heaney himself, trying to frame me?" Potter countered, and his expression darkened. "Heaney has it in for me, for some reason."

"Yeah," said Lily. "He does, because you keep turning him into a sodding goat!" She held up the book and shook it in the air. "And now he's trotting around the common room, chewing up books!"

"You don't give a shit that James turned Heaney into a goat again, Evans," said Sirius Black, who was posing on his bed, propped up by a tower of pillows. "You're pissed off because the goat chewed up your book and you've got some poxy essay to get done."

"It's not mine, actually," Lily retorted, and glared at Sirius. "It's not even a textbook. It's some pretentious idiot's copy of The House of the Dead. What kind of teenager would even read -"

"My Dostoevsky!" Sirius snarled, leaping from the bed. "That wanker!" He snatched the book from Lily's hands and stormed out of the room without a backwards glance. The door was slammed shut with such force that everyone left in the room winced, and Lily could hear his thundering footsteps echoing all the way down the stairs.

"Wow," said Peter.

"Indeed," Remus agreed. Lily noticed that he was trying not to laugh.

"I'm sorry that you had to see that, Evans," said Potter, with a sombre expression. "You've grown up believing that Sirius is really cool -"

"I have literally never thought he was cool."

"And now your perceptions have been shattered," he continued, so caught up in his own dramatic monologue that he'd completely neglected to listen to her. "You may soon find yourself doubting everything you know. I must ask you not to let this one incident cloud your opinion of him. He's still a cool bloke, I can assure you. He's going through a tough time right now."

"Oh, I can see that," said Lily. "A goat just gobbled his Dostoevsky. He's going to have to find another prop to use when he wants to sit around looking tragic."

"Mean, Evans," said Potter, narrowing his eyes. "You're as mean as Helen Keller."

"Helen Ke- what?" Lily's pulled a face. "How on earth was Helen Keller ever mean to you?"

"For your information," he retorted. "Sirius and I accidentally hit her with a trip jinx the other day – whilst aiming at Bertram Aubrey, you should know - and she told us that we were both pricks."

"Honestly isn't cruelty."

"And that she hopes we die together!"

"Well, as much as I'm sure that Black is also hoping that you die in one another's arms," Lily replied, nonplussed. "I know who you're talking about, and her name's not Helen Keller. You're getting her mixed up with a famous Muggle."

"Maybe that's why she hates you," said Peter, snorting.

"It's not Helen Keller?" Potter looked puzzled. "Oh. Oh, right. Of course! I remember now." He gave an affected laugh and waved the matter away as if trying to indicate that he'd forgotten Helen Porter's name on purpose. "Helen Keller is the one who launched all of those ships."

"That was Helen of Troy, James," put in Remus. "And as far as I recall, Helen of Troy didn't launch any ships."

"It was her abduction from Sparta by Paris, the prince of Troy, who had seduced her away from her husband, Menelaus," said Peter simply, with a knowing look on his face. "It launched a thousand ships into battle and started the Trojan war."

"How do you know – no hang on. Now is not the time to talk about why you've been keeping secrets from us, Peter. We'll deal with this later." Potter shook his head, and looked at Lily again. "Who was I talking about, then?"

"Helen Keller?" she said, exasperated, and furthermore surprised, both by the fact that Peter was clued in on Greek mythology and that Potter knew Helen Keller's name at all. "She was a deafblind woman, and she -"

"Wait, she was blind?" Potter interrupted, looking incredulous. "A woman gets to be famous just by being blind? Even I can do that." He removed his glasses and waved them around his head. "Look! Blind! Can I be famous too?"

"Always a model of sensitivity," said Remus, scratching out something on his parchment.

"So who called Sirius a prick, then?"

"Her name's in my head," said Potter to Peter. "There's just so much knowledge in there that I'm having trouble extracting it. I'll remember in a second."

He screwed up his face in intense concentration, which was horrifyingly fascinating, but Lily felt the need to intervene when it started to look as if he was in physical pain.

"Do you need a hint, Potter?" He didn't respond, but started to mumble under his breath. Lily rolled her eyes at his theatrics. "For Merlin's sake, Potter. Her name is Helen Por-"

"- kinpine!" he finished triumphantly, with a victorious fist pump. His glasses fell out of his hand and he fumbled to catch them before they hit the ground, which made him look stupid. "Helen Porkinpine!" He pushed the glasses back onto his face. "Told you I'd get it!"

"It's not Helen Porkinpine. You just made that up on the spot."

"Yeah, well, who cares? It's probably more interesting than her real name, anyway."

"Also," said Lily and pointed at a stack of books that sat next to Peter's bed, that she had just caught sight of. "Why are you acting like Peter's knowledge of Greek mythology is some big secret when has a massive collection of books on the subject right there?"

"He must have been reading them secretly."

"No I wasn't," said Peter, scowling. "I read every night before bed."

"We literally just had a conversation the Iliad at dinner, James," put in Remus. "You even asked Peter if the Spartans and Trojans couldn't just set their differences aside and try to get along."

"We were talking about a book?" said Potter in surprise. "I thought a bunch of Ravenclaws had formed rival revision groups and given them stupid names."

"You thought a bunch of Ravenclaws were going to go to war over the upcoming exams?"

"Well, not full on war," Potter admitted, looking ashamed. "I thought they might start dance fighting or something. I wasn't really listening, alright?"

"Because that's how people settle their differences in your life, is it? Dance fighting?" said Lily coldly. "When they're not turning people into goats, that is."

"That's just stupid, Evans. Why would you turn someone into a goat if you both had differences to settle? Transfiguration is for revenge. And Terry Heaney."

"And why does Terry Heaney get his own special category?"

"Because he's usually up to something, might as well punish him for it."

"Really?" She wanted to kick him. "And how'd you figure that?"

"He looks shifty."

"Right, that's it," Lily said, having had enough. She shook her hair back and drew herself up to her full height. She'd never done this to Potter before and had tried to avoid it at all costs, but this was evidently what it had come to. "Two detentions, Potter."

"What?" Potter yelped. "Why am I getting two detentions?"

"Well, we can safely assume that one of them is because you turned Terry Heaney into a goat."

"So why am I getting a second?"

"Because," she said, and spun on her heel to leave the room. "You look shifty."

"You're out of luck, Evans!" Lily turned back. Potter was standing with his arms crossed over his chest and an infuriatingly smug look upon his face. "Remus, counter her!"

"What?" said Lily and Remus at the same time.

"You can't just give detentions without consulting Remus about it first, Evans," Potter explained, grinning. "When two prefects from the same house are in disagreement about the allocation of a detention, said detention is immediately cancelled. And Remus doesn't agree."

"I do agree," said Remus. "And even if I didn't, it wouldn't make any difference. You're speaking nonsense."

Potter's grin fell. "That's not a rule?"

"I'm delighted to inform you that that's the second thing you've made up today," said Lily happily. "Two detentions it is, then."

"Wait, I'm confused. What else did I make up today?"

"Helen Porkinpine?" suggested Peter helpfully.

"Yeah, the mean Ravenclaw," said Potter, frowning. "What about her?"

"THAT'S NOT HER NAME!" Lily bellowed, and stomped her foot in frustration. "Her name is Helen Porter, you arrogant twit!"

"You don't have to resort to name calling, Evans," said Potter, looking hurt. "Remus, give her detention!"

"A detention for what?"

"For calling me names!"

"You just turned Terry Heaney into a farm animal," Remus reminded him. "You don't have a leg to stand on."

"I have two, actually."

"You child," said Lily.

"You know, I'm really tired of you calling me a child just because you're two months older than I am."

"That's not why I – no." Lily took several deep breaths, clenching and unclenching her fists. "No. No. I am a prefect, not a little girl. I'm not getting into this. Go downstairs and turn him back, Potter," she instructed. "I'm leaving. I've had it. Remus can deal with your nonsense from now on, I'm done. Done with all of you."

She turned and left the dormitory, muttering to herself about premature aging and losing her mind.

"So, okay, hang on," said Potter to Remus and Peter. "Who on earth is Helen Porkinpine?"