A/N - Wow. @_@ I don't think I've ever had so many reviews for just one chapter in so short a time! Thank you so much! You're all the best! ^_^ Lifetime supply of Spellotape and Veritaserum for everyone! Oh - wait - that may not be a good idea...

So I guess I lied, though I didn't know it at the time. This story is back by popular demand, it seems. Note: the song in this chapter is from 'Meet Me in St. Louis', which our high-school drama class will have performed by the time I finally post this. It works quite well in this chapter. |-] And just for the sake of fanfiction, the Marauders DO know what Froot Loops are.

A phantom troublemaker is on the loose at Hogwarts. Sirius was the first victim. Who will be next? What form will the embarrassment take THIS time?...

Disclaimer - I own nothing. Yelled at JK for attempting to foist Peter off on me. Note to self: Avoid pissing JK off, she's got a nasty temper. I'm lucky I can still type!

*~*~*

All four of the boys were extremely sleepy this morning. Sirius had chased poor Remus around Gryffindor tower several times, ranting and raving about Spellotape before James and Peter had managed to stop him by stepping directly in front of the chase. In a flailing pile of limbs and swears, they'd gone down with a thump. Eventually the others had managed to subdue Sirius and pull Remus out from under the armchair, where he'd taken refuge. By then it had been quite late. Which was why they were practically falling asleep on their toast. (No cereal for any of them this morning, you'll notice)

In fact, Peter was actually asleep, but none of his friends noticed because they were so dreadfully dozy as well.

James reached for the pitcher of orange juice that always stood directly beside his plate. He'd bribed the house-elves a little while ago when they'd first discovered the kitchens, so that he'd always have some of his favourite juice. Most of the other Gryffindors looked at this askance, but James didn't care. He'd grown up with a Squib nanny, and she'd always made him orange juice. He was constantly trying to persuade his friends to try it as well, but they always politely refused and stuck with pumpkin.

He filled his glass and drained it in one gulp. James proceeded to fill and drain his glass several more times, each time with a sillier and sillier grin on his face. James might have been obsessed with orange juice and terrified of clowns, but this was not normal behaviour for him.

Remus yawned and rubbed his eyes, unaware that he'd got jelly on the tip of his nose when he'd almost nodded off in his plate. Vaguely he became aware that James had started singing something in an extremely off-key voice. What was more, his words were quite slurred - almost as though he was drunk. Remus snapped immediately to attention.

"I wash drunk lasht night dear mothe-e-er *hic*, I wash drunk the night *hic* before -" sang James, a rather goofy look on his face.

"Hunh?" Sirius said, looking blankly at his best friend.

"He sounds like he's drunk!" exclaimed Remus.

"How?" wondered Sirius, frowning.

"- And if yo' forgive me dear mothe-e-er *hic!*, I'll never get drunk any mo-o-o-o-o-o-ore!" James finished with a flourish, then filled his glass with orange juice. He downed it rapidly, then hiccupped again. "'Shcushe me..."

"The orange juice," the two boys chorused in dismay.

Sirius took the jug out of James' reach - not that he noticed yet - and sniffed at the remaining contents. His nose wrinkled. "Yeah, I definitely smell alcohol. Probably Firewhiskey."

"It's him again," predicted Remus mournfully. "The same one who got you yesterday."

Both friends had to move quickly, as James suddenly took it into his head to stand up on the table and opened his mouth to sing again. Knowing James, the song was probably 'Bohemian Rhapsody.' (It was, as they would find out later. But not now)

"Hello, Shiriush," James said cheerfully, sounding extremely plastered even as his friends forced him to sit down. "*hic* Di' you know tha' Remush ish *hic* terririrified*hic* - shcared - *hichic* of Froot Loopsh? But don' tell him I shaid it. *hic*"

"James," Remus said in disgust, "I'm right here."

James jumped. "AUGH! Where'sh you comin' from all shudden-like? *hic* Shcared me! Where'sh the resht of the *hic* juishe? Ish good today!"

"Are you really?" Sirius asked Remus. "Terrified of Froot Loops?"

Remus glared. "No, I'm not."

James hiccupped again, then slurred, "Oh yesh yo' are! I knowsh it!" James grabbed for a bowl of cereal half-way down the table and with a clumsy tap of his wand, managed to Tranfigure the bowl into a giant Froot Loop.

"Oopsh*hic* -"

Remus screamed and dove under the table before he could stop himself. Peter jolted awake and looked around wildly.

"Who - what - huh - who screamed?"

"Remus," Sirius informed him.

Peter caught sight of James trying to bite the giant Froot Loop. "What's wrong with James?"

"He's...well...I think he's drunk."

"Is it gone yet?" Remus' quavering voice came from beneath the table.

"James is trying to eat it," Sirius said. "Look, the Froot Loop is not going to hurt you. You can come out now."

"What is going on?" Peter complained. "Why do I always miss all the excitement?"

Sheepishly Remus crawled out from underneath the table, though he still refused to look at the giant Froot Loop. "Don't worry, Pete," he said nervously, avoiding all eye contact with the giant sugary piece of cereal, "I get the feeling you'll still see lots today."

*~*~*

"Nin'y nine boddlesh of beer on da wall *hic*, nin'y nine boddlesh of beeeer -" sang James.

McGonagall swivelled around so fast it was like she was expecting trouble. Though, after the events of yesterday, she probably was. "What was that, Mr. Potter?" she barked.

Sirius groaned under his breath. "Busted."

The boys had managed to keep James quiet for a good ten minutes before James had gotten impatient and bored and had decided to sing. None of their efforts had worked to shut him up.

"Yo' take one down, passh it aroun' *hic*, nin'y eight boddlesh of beer on da wall -"

To a class that had barely recovered from Sirius spurting the truth yesterday, this was high entertainment. Already several people were giggling.

"Mr. Potter, are you feeling all right?" McGonagall said, but her beady eyes were furious.

"He's fine, Professor," blurted Peter. "He's just -"

Sirius stomped on Peter's foot. Peter let out a yelp and subsided.

"He's just what, Mr. Pettigrew?"

Peter remained silent, though extremely fidgety. He rubbed his foot, grimacing with pain.

"Mr. Pettigrew? Mr. Lupin? Mr. Black? Do you have anything to offer?"

All three boys remained silent.

"Professhor, can I *hic* pleashe go find mo' orange juishe?"

"No." McGonagall fixed her gaze on the other three next. "Mr. Potter sounds to me as though he is drunk, which, of course, he cannot be, because there is no possible way second-years could get their hands on alcohol in the school; also, I cannot believe any of his friends would embarrass him like that. However, if they did -" her glare intensified - "You can be sure that the moment I found any proof that Mr. Potter truly is drunk, and that you had somehow managed to obtain alcohol, you would be expelled." Silence. "Is that understood?"

"Yes Professor," the three said quickly and rather meekly.

"Then take him back to the dormitories. He's excused from classes today, he's in no fit state to learn. I don't trust him to find his own way back. Please tell him when he's sobe - errr - feeling better - that he will be serving another detention on top of the ones he has already accumulated this week." Professor McGonagall turned back to the lesson.

James screamed. "AUGH! I shaw a clown!*hichichic* McGonagalall'sh a CLOWN!*hic* In dishguishe!" He pointed at the back of Professor McGonagall's head, hand trembling, before he dove under the desk.

McGonagall whirled around, furious. "Get him out of here! NOW!"

"Yesh, shir, ma'am, shir," James slurred as he stumbled out of the classroom with his friends' hands on either shoulder.

*~*~*

Once James was safely (they hoped) in the dormitories, the other three returned to class, sheepishly reassuming their seats under McGonagall's suspicious eye. For once, they all worked studiously for the rest of the class, hoping against hope that they would not get in any more trouble today.

Which, of course, didn't work out at all. Because, as we all know, the Marauders are just a target for trouble, whether they caused it or not.

*~*~*

James weaved down the hallway, having managed to escape even though his friends had specifically told the Fat Lady not to let him out. James sang rather drunkenly to himself, an off-key song that no Hogwarts student would have recognized. "Ohhh, Caaanaaadaaaa *hic*-" He fell into a wall and slid to the floor. "Our home and na-ative laaaaaaaaaaaaand - *hic* Ooo, look at de shpinny walls..."

Eventually he managed to stagger to his feet again and was off down the hallway. "Truuuue pat-ri-ot loooooove *hic* - wha'sh dat shiny door doin' dere? *hichic*" James wrenched open the door and peeked inside. Unbeknownst to him, it was a vanishing cupboard that sent its victims to random places around the castle. James stepped inside...

*~*~*

THUD.

"Ooo, I'sh wen' thud!" exclaimed James, still sounding extremely drunk. "I'sh shpeshial. Shpeshialalalalalalalal....

"*hic* Where am I?"

He would not have recognized the place, not even if he'd been a seventh-year Gryffindor, wise in all the secrets of the school.

James had landed in a girls' dormitory.

The Slytherin girls' dormitory.

*~*~*

A/N - Ooo, I'm so evil. Cliffhanger! I was running out of ideas to continue this chapter and I really really wanted to post it...so I'll write the rest of it some other time, since I have decided to turn this into a longer fic about the mysterious prankster whose target is the Marauders. More random madness is on the way. And if anyone can guess who the mystery prankster is, they get cookies, made special by me!