DISCLAIMER: I own no part of Harry Potter, as if that weren't patently obvious.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: This is inspired by my Princess Padfoot headcanon; namely, when Sirius became overly dramatic, James and Remus would call him Princess Padfoot and secretly wrote Princess Padfoot stories. So that's all you need to know.

I wrote this for the James Potter birthday project on Tumblr. Enjoy!

Step 1: Acquire your target

It all starts with target acquisition. Any garden variety hack can drop a dung bomb on some poor sod's head. The true joker does not just acquire a random target and act rashly—the true joker researches their target thoroughly. What makes them tick? What are their strengths and weaknesses? What sort of prank will cause maximum amusement? These are the questions that separate the men from the boys.

-Sirius Black, quoted in Maraudering is what we do: the M.W.P.P. phenomenon

Sirius found the journal the first weekend of sixth year.

He was alone in the dormitory, about to go join the rest of the lads for breakfast in the Great Hall, when he saw the corner of it poking out from under James's mattress. Sirius could feel the smirk spreading across his face, but he checked himself. His inner good boy stumbled out of hibernation and began chiding him: "It isn't right to spy on your mates! James is like a brother to you; surely he deserves some privacy!" Sirius found himself nodding—good boy made some valid points. However, his inner troublemaker had always been much more convincing: "Lighten up! How will you be able to properly take the mickey out of him if you don't read all the sentimental waffle he's writing about Evans? A little peek can't hurt!" As usual, his inner troublemaker won the day. It was never much of a contest, to be honest.

Satisfied with the result of his internal "struggle," Sirius waltzed over to his best mate's bed and extracted the journal with one smooth tug. He settled back against James's headboard, flipped to the first page, and read: "Princess Padfoot vs. the big mean mud puddle, a Princess Padfoot adventure by James Potter." Sirius blinked a few times; this had taken an unexpected turn.

"Why that bubotuber pus crusted little wank stain…" Sirius muttered under his breath. He flipped to the next page. "Princess Padfoot and the too-far-away pumpkin juice, a Princess Padfoot adventure by Remus Lupin."

"Et tu, Remus?"

He quickly skimmed through the rest of the journal; it was chock full of rubbish about Princess Padfoot. "Princess Padfoot my arse," thought Sirius, sighing dramatically and chucking the journal away from him. All of his mates were right evil bastards who deserved inordinately painful boils to erupt on their…hang on a tick. He scrabbled across the bed and snatched the notebook up, skimming through the entries once more. It appeared that only James and Remus had contributed to this farce of a travesty of a journal. Peter, at least, had a modicum of sense. Sirius always knew he liked him best.

He rose from the bed, carefully replacing the notebook under the mattress. The beginnings of a plan were already forming in his brain. Such a provocation could not go unanswered. Sirius would have to rope in Peter to make it work, but he wasn't concerned: Sirius could be highly persuasive when need be.

With one last glance at the journal (yes, it had been placed precisely so), Sirius turned and sauntered out of the dorm, whistling tunelessly as he made his way down to breakfast.

W&P

As he suspected, it took next to no time to persuade Peter round to his way of things. Always happy to be of assistance Peter was, and the fact that it would be just he and Sirius putting one over on Remus and James—well, the opportunity was simply too good to pass up.

"Prancer will be easy," Sirius was saying. He and Peter were taking a post-breakfast constitutional around the black lake, well away from prying eyes and ears. "He's a right cocky little bugger. We just have to play on that somehow, make him look a prat. It's Moony who's going to pose the bigger problem."

"Well, you know Moony hates attention, especially from the birds. Perhaps we can set him up on a blind date or something?" Peter suggested eagerly.

"Hmmm…" Sirius looked thoughtful for a moment. "I like where your head's at Wormy, but I want to go bigger…and I'd hate to have one of our lovely ladies think that ol' Moony was messing her about. That wouldn't be very Gryffindor at all."

They strolled along in silence a few moments longer before Sirius heaved a resigned sigh. "Hogwarts wasn't built in a day. I say we both think it over and reconvene next week, same time same place?" An accord having been struck, they ambled back to the castle and rejoined their mates who were, for the time being, none the wiser.

Step 2: Brainstorm

Here is the biggest reason why you should never prank in a vacuum: The best schemes are always born out discussions with a group of like-minded individuals. Solo plots tend to lead to nasty consequences—trust me, I know firsthand. You always need that sounding board. Only then can the scheme be trimmed where superfluous and elaborated where necessary. Oh, long hours I have spent huddled in a corner of the common room, kicking around ideas, perfecting certain strategies and rejecting others…those were the days. Plus, causing trouble is always more fun when done with your mates. That's just a fact.

-Sirius Black, quoted in Maraudering is what we do: the M.W.P.P. phenomenon

By the following week, Sirius and Peter were nowhere closer to a potential solution. Quite the opposite-they had isolated yet another obstacle that needed to be surmounted.

"It really has to go off in tandem," Peter was saying. "You see, if we prank one before the other, it will arouse too much suspicion. You know—if we did Moony before Prongs, Prongsie will be wondering why we cut him out of the loop, and it will be that much harder to trick him later."

"I do believe you're correct, Wormtail," Sirius said with an edge of frustration. "Fucking hell, we're going to need a scenario where we can get both of them simultaneously, but in slightly different ways." He struck a pose of great arrogance, thrusting a pointed finger towards the sky. "This could either be our finest hour, or our greatest defeat. We need to redouble our efforts! Keep our eyes skinned for any potential opportunity! Agreed?"

"Agreed!" Wormtail grinned. "Don't worry Padfoot, we're going to figure this thing out if it takes us all term."

W&P

Luck is on their side, however, and it only takes a few more days for the jammy duo to happen upon the perfect course of action.

Remus was at a prefect meeting, and James was at quidditch practice, so it was just Sirius in the dorm when Peter burst in that evening. "I've found it!" he cried, practically jumping up and down with excitement. Sirius glanced up from his charms essay as Peter shoved a copy of Teen Witch in his face. "Didn't peg you as a regular subscriber, Wormy," Sirius cracked with a grin. Peter rolled his eyes. "I nicked it from Mary's bag, you tit. Just look at page three!" Sirius did as instructed, and in no time, a devilish smirk appeared on his face. "Wormtail, mate…this is brilliant! But how will we-"

"Your cousin Andy still works there, right?" Peter interrupted. "You reckon she'd be up for it?"

Sirius was on his feet in a flash, still gripping the magazine in his hand as he shook Peter by the shoulders. "Wormy, you're a bloody genius! Of course she'd be up for it! She's only working there to hack off Auntie Druella. This is going to be epic—no, legendary! I can't believe you came up with this!" Sirius finally released Peter and settled back down at his desk, preparing to write to his favorite cousin.

"Always the tone of surprise…" Peter muttered, massaging his neck with a grimace.

W&P

Four days had gone when a post owl finally dropped a letter into Sirius's hands at breakfast. "Who's writing you then, Padfoot? Not another howler from mummy dearest, I hope?" James gave him a sympathetic smirk-if anyone could pull off 'sympathetic smirking' it was James Potter-over his eggs on toast.

"Unlucky, Prongs, just a letter from cousin Andy," said Sirius in a would-be casual voice. "Sorry to spoil your dining entertainment." He purposely avoided Peter's eye and hoped to Merlin the git had the good sense to look uninterested. "I'll read it later."

Miracle of miracles, Sirius escaped the meal without further questions, and the letter was forgotten by his mates. All except Peter, of course. Sirius slyly slipped him a note during History of Magic and told him that they would meet in the library later that evening.

W&P

By the time Sirius strolled into the library, Peter was already sat at the table in the far corner looking fit to bursting with anticipation. Seeing that there were practically no other students about, Sirius allowed himself a happy little skip as he made his way over to Peter and plopped into the chair next to him. "Ready to see what cousin Andy has to say, Wormy?" He ripped open the wax seal and laid the letter flat on the table for them both to read:

Dear Sirius,

I must admit, I was somewhat surprised by the contents of your last letter; I had no idea that you read Teen Witch or had any interest in our idiotic contests. But the plan you describe sounds like a laugh, so why not? I was hoping to include some Hogwarts blokes anyway. Now, the spread is going to have an "end of 1976" round-up kind of angle, with each boy assigned a superlative, so I managed to snag "Best hair" and "Dreamiest eyes" for you. I'll let you decide who is who.

Which leads me to my next point: I am more than willing to see that this makes it into the magazine, but I assume you'll want to write up the blurbs yourself? They don't have to be anything too long, just a paragraph or two. And don't get too dirty with them—I reserve the right to make edits or changes as I see fit!

We're planning on going to press at the end of November, and issues will be sent out via owl the first Saturday of December. Can you have the copy to me by November 21st at the latest? That will give me time to read it over and make any necessary changes. Oh, and make sure you send me some photos. We're doing full-page color shots.

I almost wish I was back at Hogwarts to see this, though I suppose you would never be able to pull this off without a man (or woman, as the case may be) on the inside. Happy to be of assistance!

Mummy is as miserable as ever, thanks for asking. Just last month she sent me a howler for my birthday; she's getting so sentimental in her old age. How is darling Auntie Walburga? I haven't heard from her since the family attorney informed me I'd been blasted off the tapestry. Such a dear, sweet soul, your mother.

Anyway, best of luck with your schemes. Come see me over the Christmas hols, won't you? I know Ted would like to meet you.

Love from your cousin,

Andy

Sirius looked up from the letter, a gleam of triumph in his eyes and wolfish smile on his face. "You know what this means, don't you? The game, my dear Wormtail, is on!"

Step 3: Planning and logistics

Any joker worth his powdered unicorn horn will tell you that planning and logistics are the foundation of all successful operations. The best schemes are those that are well-planned, those that have had every angle examined and re-examined. The dragon, as they say, is in the details. Have back-up plans upon back-up plans—I can't stress this enough. If you don't, things can go pear-shaped rather quickly, and before you know it, you're standing in the fifth floor corridor covered in stink sap wearing only ladies knickers. Trust me, nobody wants that.

-Sirius Black, quoted in Maraudering is what we do: the M.W.P.P. phenomenon

Safely ensconced in the library, Sirius and Peter set right down to planning their secret maneuver.

"Alright, Wormtail," Sirius said with a certain gravitas, "this operation is now officially a go. Do you have any parchment? We'll need to make some notes on strategy." Peter rummaged through his rucksack for parchment, ink and quill, and began to scribble as Sirius dictated.

"First things first. There can be absolutely no discussion of this with any outside parties."

"Agreed," Peter readily concurred.

"Second, you and I will need to begin having regular meetings in the library to write up the magazine blurbs, and we'll require a plausible cover story…How about I'm tutoring you in transfiguration? That works. Now we just need a reason to get Prongs and Moony to bugger off if they try to help." Sirius knew James and Remus would want to assist if they thought Peter was failing, noble do-gooders that they were. "When they ask, tell them that I'm helping you because Moony is too busy being a goody two-shoes prefect and Prongsie is too busy torturing the quidditch team. But we should always bring our transfiguration materials, just in case…and we're meeting in the library instead of the common room to avoid distractions. Easy peasy."

"Noted, and I'll do my best to fend them off, but the library is so exposed. Why not the Room of Requirement? "

"Too risky," Sirius replied shaking his head. "If they see us on the map, they'll know we're up to something. It's got to be the library for now…and that leads me to my next point. This bit is important Wormtail, so pay attention. We have to make sure Prongs and Moony don't get the wind up about anything we're doing. The element of surprise is absolutely essential. We live with our targets, so it's going to take considerable acting skills to pull this off—luckily, I'm a natural," Sirius continued with an easy smile. "Just follow my lead, and you should be fine."

"Next, I think you should be in charge of photographs, Wormy. You still have the camera you got for your birthday last year?" Peter quickly affirmed that he did.

"Brill…now, I think our decision as to the superlatives is pretty obvious, right? I mean, James clearly needs to win 'best hair' and Remus is 'dreamiest eyes'," Sirius said with a quiet chuckle.

"Oh, absolutely," Peter said in a sickeningly sincere tone. "They're both going to be shitting themselves over this." Chuckling, he continued, "What kinds of photos should I get?"

"Candids are best," Sirius said with a thoughtful look. "Try to catch them looking idiotic. If they start asking questions, tell them you spoke with McGonagall about a possible internship with the Prophet. That should keep them from getting on you about it. In fact…you may actually want to have that conversation with McGonagall, just to cover all the quidditch hoops."

Peter rolled his eyes, but continued writing. "Anything for the joke, Padfoot. The sacrifices I make for you…"

"Oh, stop your whinging, Wormy. This is going to be fantastic, you'll see," Sirius drawled. "I'll write back to Andy and see if we can get an advance copy of the issue. It would be best if we could have one by Friday evening. That would give us time to really do it up by Saturday morning…"

"What exactly do you have in mind, Paddy?"

"All in good time, Wormy, all in good time." Sirius flashed a wicked grin. "We'll have to perform concealment charms on all our notes…what do you reckon as a code name?"

Peter looked up from the parchment and snorted. "How about 'Hogwarts Hotties'?"

"Brilliant," Sirius laughed. "Commence operation Hogwarts Hotties."

W&P

Over the following weeks, Sirius and Peter slowly accomplished all the items on their respective to-do lists.

Sirius wrote to Andy again and received assurances that she would send him an advance copy of the magazine by the first Friday in December.

One afternoon before transfiguration, Peter staged a loud conversation about possibly pursuing a career as a photojournalist for the Prophet with a somewhat shocked Professor McGonagall. This served its purpose, for both James and Remus made no comment when Peter took to carrying his camera everywhere, snapping shots of them in the common room and at meals.

"I got a great picture of Prongsie the other night," Peter whispered to Sirius one evening in the library. "He was staring at Lily, so he had that twat look on his face and was fussing with his hair like a madman."

As Sirius predicted, James and Remus frequently joined their "tutoring" sessions in the library, which forced them to waste valuable plotting time on actual schoolwork. This at least had the pleasant side benefit of pulling Peter's work up to a solid E level, but Sirius was inwardly cursing his overly benevolent mates.

"I tell you Wormy," Sirius said one night as he joined Peter at their usual study table in the back corner, "it's a good thing we had so much time to prep our materials. Between Pince, Prongs and Moony, it feels like we're constantly being surveilled."

"No kidding…" Peter muttered. "Pince has been watching me like hawk ever since I sat down. I'll bet she thinks we're meeting here to reconnoiter. We've never spent this much time in the library before."

"Hmm…maybe that should be the next bit of mayhem we develop after our current endeavour. For now, I really want to finish this magazine copy tonight so I can post it to Andy in the morning."

And with that, Sirius and Peter unlocked their parchments (Commence operation Hogwarts Hotties) and began reading over the blurbs one final time. They had worked hard on crafting them, and only minor changes were made in the final run through:

"Wormy, I really think we need to say something other than serene, yeah? Maybe…clear? Still? Limpid! That's the word I'm looking for, limpid!"

"Padfoot, I think we can do better than 'sugar quill'…what about 'treacle tart'? You know he loves his treacle tart! And didn't he call her that in his sleep once?"

Having made these alterations, they copied out the final versions and had them ready for the morning post .

Step 4: Implementation

Implementation is where people tend to get sloppy. It takes a vast amount of talent and nerve, as well as a damnable amount of sneakiness, to really get a scheme to go off the way you plan it. We should know—we've got all three qualities in spades. Of course, we also have certain tools that have contributed a great deal to our success, but I'm afraid I'm not at liberty to share trade secrets with outsiders.

-Sirius Black, quoted in Maraudering is what we do: the M.W.P.P. phenomenon

As frustrating as it had sometimes been, there was something rather satisfying about working the long con. Sirius almost couldn't believe he and Peter had managed to keep their activities hidden from Remus and James for practically an entire term. (His mates were clearly losing their maraudering touch. He would have to have a serious conversation with them when this was all over.)

Naturally, he and Peter were still having regular "tutoring" sessions in the library. They had to keep that little ruse in place until the magazine was published, which would be any day now. With the magazine copy and photo options set, they had turned their considerable talents toward deciding how best wreck maximum havoc on the school in general, and on Remus and James in particular.

"We're in the final stages now, Wormtail," Sirius muttered conspiratorially. "Friday night is going to be zero hour. "

"What's the move, Padfoot?"

"At some point on Friday, you need to grab the map. If they notice it's missing, just cop to taking it and claim you want to visit the kitchens later. For this last bit of the operation, we'll need to be stationed in the Room of Requirement, and I don't want them seeing us there."

"Got it—nick the map. Shouldn't be too difficult."

"Well in that case, I've another task for you Wormy—see if you can lift something with James's and Remus's signatures. A course essay, anything. I've got a nifty little piece of transfiguration and charms work in my back pocket that I want to try."

Peter cocked his eyebrow at this, but didn't say anything further.

"I'm responsible for swiping the cloak. I've got big plans for Friday night, and I don't want Filch getting in our way."

"With both the cloak and the map, there's little chance of that happening," Peter grinned.

Sirius smirked at him before continuing. "I've arranged with Andy to have the issue delivered to the owlery at 8pm-we should have the map and cloak in our possession by then. When I get back to the common room, just act natural. We'll wait until they're both asleep, and then we'll slip out and head for the Room of Requirement. Understood?"

"Understood, Paddy," Peter said with a mock salute.

W&P

Friday night came, and all was going to plan. Peter had hidden the map and under his mattress during his morning free period, and Sirius stole the cloak as soon as James headed down to the quidditch pitch for his evening practice. The magazine delivery had gone off without a hitch; Sirius laughed himself stupid in the owlery looking over their mates' photos. James and Remus really were going to shit themselves tomorrow morning. He shrank the issue to the size of a postage stamp and careful stowed it in his pocket before making his way back to the common room.

This was the part of the plan that had Sirius most concerned: The whole plot hinged on Remus and James going to sleep at a decent hour and not noticing that Sirius and Peter were sneaking about. Maybe he should've slipped a sleeping draught into their pumpkin juice—but he dismissed that thought with a shake of his head. That was hardly fair play.

As it transpired, Sirius needn't have been so worried. James returned from quidditch thoroughly knackered and chilled to the bone; he was into a hot shower and then out cold on his bed before you could recite Gamp's Law of Elemental Transfiguration. Remus wasn't naturally inclined to stay up until all hours, and after a few games of exploding snap, the three of them turned in as well. Or at least, one of them turned in, and two of them sat awake in their beds until Remus began snoring.

W&P

It had taken three hours, but Sirius and Peter were nearly done.

When they reached the Room of Requirement, the first thing Sirius did was enlarge his issue of Teen Witch and break the anti-Gemino charm the publishers had placed on it.

"Cheers, Padfoot," Peter said. "That was shockingly easy."

"Always knew that O in charms would come in handy. Help me replicate the pages with their photos, will you?"

And so the two of them replicated, and replicated, and replicated some more, until they had a healthy stack of pages in front of them.

"Brilliant…this will do for the corridors. Now, we need to replicate two full issues for our lucky winners," Sirius muttered, quickly duplicating the issues and setting them to the side.

"Wormtail, did you manage to nick something with their signatures?"

"Yeah…" Peter replied, digging through his pockets. "I have James's transfiguration homework and Remus's potions essay."

"Ta, Wormy. Let's just see if I can get this spell to work." Sirius twirled his wand over Remus's signature and managed to copy it from his essay and transplant it to his photograph in the magazine. Peter started to laugh as Sirius repeated the process with James's. "I figure if we're going to flog issues to students at breakfast tomorrow, we may as well have signed copies for them."

"Without question, Paddy," Peter agreed. "Who wouldn't want to own such a treasure?" The two of them set about replicating the now autographed issue, stopping when they had 200 set aside.

"Phenomenal work, Wormtail," Sirius said pompously, shaking Peter by the hand. "Let's take these duplicate pages and get them hung in the corridors, shall we?"

Step 5: Reveal

In my opinion, this is where the real skill comes in. Many jokes can be funny, even memorable, but it takes a certain level of showmanship to elevate a prank to an art form. I pride myself on that, I truly do. People have said I have a certain flair for these types of things. Who am I to disagree?

-Sirius Black, quoted in Maraudering is what we do: the M.W.P.P. phenomenon

Sirius and Peter had barely made it back to the dorm that morning when they were quietly slipping out again, though not before replacing the items they had "borrowed" and leaving a small surprise for their mates. They would have loved to stay and witness the reactions firsthand, but they had to prep themselves for the Great Hall portion of the show. That would be the icing on the cake, the cherry on the sundae, the catching of the snitch, if you will. They thought Princess Padfoot was dramatic? Sirius would give them dramatic.

W&P

James Potter awoke that morning to an outraged squawk from across the room.

"Oh no, oh no, no, no, no, no!" Remus was murmuring. "Oh Merlin…this is…but I can't…WHY would—"

"Wake up Moony, it's just a nightmare," James called across the room in a drowsy voice. Remus was out of bed and had ripped open the curtains of James's four poster in a trice. "I beg to differ, Prongs," he said, a definite edge to his voice and a somewhat demented gleam in his eyes. "Read this!"

James fumbled about the covers for his glasses. "What am I meant to be reading, Moony?"

"The latest issue of Teen Witch. I have apparently been named the teen wizard with the 'dreamiest eyes' of 1976."

James let out a hoot of laughter. "What? Let me see that!" He grabbed the proffered magazine; it was open to a full-page photo of Remus sitting at a table in Gryffindor common room, alternately squinting at something happening off in the distance and staring straight ahead at the camera in confusion.

"Bloody fuck Remus, that's you! Why are you in…what is this again?"

"Teen Witch," Remus managed through gritted teeth.

"Teen Witch," James repeated, seemingly mesmerized by Remus's photo. "Merlin, they must have been running low on material…" James laughed again, but seeing his mate's thunderous expression, he stopped immediately and adopted a remorseful attitude.

"It's not just the picture. Read!" Remus commanded. And so James read:

Remus Lupin – "Dreamiest eyes"

Noted heart breaker Remus Lupin is a sixth year N.E.W.T. student at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry and has eyes that pierce deep into the soul of any man. Or woman. Really any living creature. "It's been said that the eyes are windows to the soul," prefect extraordinaire Remus reveals, a mournful expression on his charming face. "With eyes like mine, I can only assume my soul is a marvelous vista of mystery and enchantment. Wouldn't you agree?" We certainly would, Remus!

The soft-spoken Remus has a number of looks that he has perfected over the years: the "side-eye stare"; the "wide-eyed innocent"; and the "glare-so-intense-it-curls-your-toes" are just several that can be found in his impressive arsenal. "You only get good at these things through practice," Remus says, with a gaze so limpid it makes you want to dive in and go skinny dipping. "I've been known to devote whole days to looking in the mirror, simply to perfect the latest look in my repertoire. Sometimes, I stare so deeply into my own eyes I hypnotize myself!" You lucky thing! Congratulations on "Dreamiest Eyes," Remus! You're welcome to practice legilimency on us any time. Wink!

James reminded himself that he was a true and loyal friend and that it would be very, very bad form to roll around the floor in hysterics. He chewed hard on his cheek to keep from laughing again. "Damn Moony, I had no idea you had such an impressive…uh…repertoire of stares."

Remus snatched the magazine away from James and smacked him over the head with it. "Ow! Look, sorry mate, I'm sorry…do you have no idea how this happened?"

"You mean, did I forget I gave an incredibly poncy interview to a magazine thereby making myself sound like a complete twat? Of course I don't know how this happened! But someone does. The magazine was on my nightstand with the bloody page marked!"

"Alright, alright, just…calm down. We'll suss it out."

"Calm down, he says," Remus was now pacing alongside James's bed. "Calm down indeed." That's when his eye fell on the Teen Witch issue that graced James's nightstand. "Fucking hell, have these gone out to everyone?" he yelled, ripping the magazine open at the marked page.

But instead of growing more perturbed, he suddenly exploded in laughter. "Oh Merlin…" he chortled, reading the article. "Celestina Warbeck…is this why you're always warbling like a lark in the shower?"

"What are you on about, Moony?" James asked suspiciously.

Remus handed over the issue with a smirk on his face. James felt his stomach drop as he stared at a photo of himself. He was looking stupidly at something just out of frame while his hand vigorously rustled his hair. "Fuck all," James muttered, and started to read:

James Potter – "Best hair"

James Potter is a single and extremely available sixth year N.E.W.T. student at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. When he's not scoring Os in transfiguration or scoring points on the quidditch pitch, this super stud is in the shower, doing what he does best: washing and maintaining his luxurious head of hair. "My parents always told me that hair makes the man," James explains with his frankly edible smirk. "All the ladies go mental for my raven tresses."

As well you should, ladies. This sixteen-year old heartthrob has an enviable hair care routine. "Every morning, I gently scrub it with Mrs. Slingall's Softening Shampoo. Sometimes, if I feel it needs the attention, I sing it a Celestina Warbeck tune, just to help the follicles relax. After the shampoo, it's time for McCarthey's Moisturizing Conditioner. That's how it gets its signature unruly bounce." When asked if he would ever consider dying his hair, say, red, James responds in the negative. "Why mess with perfection? Anyway, I only like ginger on the ladies. One lady in particular. You know who you are, my scrummy little treacle tart." Yowza! I can feel the steam heat from here! Congratulations on "Best Hair," James. Yours is truly the mop that won't stop!

For a moment, James felt like he was having an out-of-body experience, the phrase "mop that won't stop" echoing around his head as he stared dumbly at the magazine. Then he crashed back into reality with all the grace of a rampaging manticore.

"Oh fuck. FUCK! Those slimy little tosspots! Transfiguration tutoring my fit quidditch arse!"

And now the knut dropped. Remus did a quick survey of the room and seemed to realise for the first time that he and James were alone. "Why those venomous, prattish pricks," he spluttered, cottoning on. "Photojournalism? I ask you, how the fuck did we fall for that one, Prongs?"

"Those smarmy, jumped-up bastards…"

"Those conniving, poisonous little corpuscles…"

"I'm going to feed them to the giant squid…"

"I'm going to skin them like shrivelfigs…"

(Comments in this vein continued on for some time.)

"Bloody wankers…oh Merlin, Lily's going to think I call her my 'treacle tart.' And that I sing to my hair in the shower! Can you just shove me out the window Moony? Make it look like an accident, yeah?"

Ironically, this seemed to have a calming effect on Remus. "Come on Prongs, pull yourself together. We'll survive. And to be perfectly fair, you have referred to her as your 'treacle tart' before—"

"THAT WAS ONE TIME!" James roared. "And I was talking in my sleep! That obviously doesn't count," he continued, mussing his hair so violently it looked almost painful.

By now, Remus had snapped himself back into prefect mode. "Come along, Prongs," he said briskly. "We're Gryffindors. Daring and nerve and all that, remember? Time to face the music. The longer we avoid it, the worse it will get."

"Shit…I suppose you're right, Moony." James began to move about the dorm, pulling on jeans and a jumper. "I bet Godric Gryffindor never had to put up with this kind of bollocks. Where's that flipping sword when you need it…"

When they finally slipped down to the common room, it was eerily quiet. James took a deep breath and made to open the portrait hole. "Just…just…we'll try to swagger our way out of it. Act like it's an honour. We're not fussed about it at all."

"Exactly," agreed Remus, "nothing special to see here. We get mentions like these all the time."

"Right. All the time," James echoed, with a rather unconvincing nod.

The swagger plan, while good in theory, was utter shite in practice. As soon as the portrait hole was properly opened, they could see that the corridor walls were plastered with copies of the article. "Blimey, Prongs, they really did the thing properly, didn't they?" James begrudgingly agreed. He made a mental note to congratulate Sirius on his skill—just as soon as he was finished beating him to a bloody pulp.

Things quickly went from bad to worse as they started passing some of their fellow students. At first, there was just a lot of quiet snickering, even from the younger years. Then the inevitable taunts came flying in their direction:

"Hey Lupin, can we take a rain check on the skinny dipping? I want to practice my 'you're a naked prat' look first!"

"Oi Potter, your hair looks a little down this morning. Maybe you should try singing it some Hobgoblins!"

Remus and James valiantly tried to laugh it off, but Remus was looking more and more murderous and James could feel a hot blush creeping up the back of his neck. The situation did not improve when they arrived at the entrance to the Great Hall: The photos from the magazine had been enlarged to enormous size and now flanked either side of the double doors.

It didn't take them long to locate Sirius, as he was standing atop the Gryffindor house table with an air of great amusement. "As suspected," groaned James, "Sirius is the ringleader of this little shit show. What in sodding hell is he doing up there?"

"Step right up, step right up folks, and purchase your limited edition autographed copy of Teen Witch. Bound to be a collector's item soon! Just two sickles for signatures from our two handsome lads—a bargain at twice the price! All proceeds go towards food and drink for next weekend's end of term party in the Gryffindor common room, tell your mates—" Sirius then spotted Remus and James slinking into the Great Hall and turned the full wattage of his charm in their direction. "Heavens to hippogriffs, here they are now! Let's everyone give a great round of applause for Mr. Dreamy Eyes and Mr. Perfect Hair! Soak it up fellas, you've earned it!"

The crowd of students parted to make way for Remus and James, giving them a raucous ovation. As the boys drew closer to the table, they saw Peter sitting with a collecting tin, a small mountain of Teen Witch issues piled next to him. James's blush reached dangerous new levels as he watched Lily pay for her copy.

"Just the one copy then, Evans?" Peter was asking.

"Oh yes, Pettigrew. I'm not sure I can handle this much raw masculinity as it is." Then she burst out laughing. "I'm sorry, Potter, Lupin…I couldn't even say that with a straight face." She moved off to join her friends, wiping tears from her eyes. James glared at Peter and mentally added yet another name to his "to pulverize" list.

"Wormtail, mate," Remus hissed. "What the fuck is going on?"

"I'm afraid I'm not authorized to say. You'll have to direct all inquiries to Princess Padfoot."

"Oooohhhh shiiiiiit…" Remus whispered. "Prongs, we must've been rumbled. You don't think…"

"I do think boys," Sirius said smoothly, interrupting their conversation. "I hope you've learned a valuable lesson: Don't mess with the Princess." With a flourish, he extracted the treacherous Princess Padfoot journal from his back pocket and handed it over to James. "I'd read the latest entry if I were you." Then he returned to the crowd of students jostling to purchase copies of the magazine.

The revenge of Princess Padfoot

Princess Padfoot was the most handsome and intelligent wizard in all the land. Let's be honest, no one else even came close. How can you compete with that level of smoulder? With that sharp intellect? With that rapier wit? You can't gents. Best just give up before you look a right arse.

But getting back to the story. One day, Princess Padfoot realised that he had two very jealous mates. Let's call them Moony the Miscreant and Prancer the Prat. Princess Padfoot didn't know what he had done to upset them so, but he reckoned it was on account of the smoulder and all that (see the above paragraph). Now, Moony the Miscreant and Prancer the Prat stupidly kept a journal full of unflattering (and frankly rubbish) stories about Princess Padfoot, and they also stupidly left it laying about where Princess Padfoot could easily find it. Tossers.

But did Princess Padfoot get mad? No, not at all. Instead, he took pity on his poor mates. "They are quite obviously jealous of my roguish good looks and abundant charisma. Oh, how I wish I could do something to make them feel handsome as well. But it's hopeless! Even though I am the most powerful wizard in the year, I still am not powerful enough to make those two cock-ups palatable to the opposite sex!"

Princess Padfoot's one remaining loyal companion, Wormtail the Wise, helped him devise a plan. "We'll get a stupid witch magazine to give them some sort of scurrilous honour," he cried. "Then they'll be just as popular as you, Princess! That will be sure to boost their pitiable self-esteem!"

So Princess Padfoot and Wormtail the Wise arranged everything, right down to the very last detail. And if they were properly grateful, Moony the Miscreant and Prancer the Prat would be kissing the ground the Princess walks on—those gits were surely never getting into a magazine ever again. Finally, they had something to be proud of, even if they still couldn't compete with Princess Padfoot in the long run. (Oh, and their parents were very proud as well, because Princess Padfoot was thoughtful enough to post them copies. You're welcome.)

The end.

"That mad bastard. I can't believe he posted copies to our parents."

"My dad is never going to let me live this down," James sighed. He turned his gaze back to Sirius, who was continuing to schmooze the crowd. "Don't mess with the princess? Not bloody likely," he said with a small snort. "More like don't get caught messing with the Princess."

"Right you are, Prongs," Remus grinned, giving James a surreptitious low five. "Right you are. So…what's the plan?"