0750 Hours. Status on Prongs' Missing Shirts: Location Unknown. I suspect the Suit of Armour in the Great Hall filched 'em. Har, filched.

0753 Hours. Have not seen Prongs since he disappeared last night.

0754 Hours. …

0755 Hours. Prongs has still not made his presence known. Must check on—he could possibly be drowning in a toilet or prefect's bath or pool of blood.

0757 Hours. Just remembered Prongs did not eat breakfast this morning. Might be dead—he has not missed a meal since third year when Evans hexed him to upchuck all day.

0759 Hours. Evans is not here. Evans has always been early for lessons, never on time, NEVER late. She might be dead, too.

0759.3 Hours. Maybe Prongs and Evans are dead toge—

Moony removed the parchment upon which one Sirius Black was diligently recording the events of the day. "Class is starting," Moony hissed. "Please pretend to pay attention."

"But I was being diligent and recording our lives for future posterity!" Sirius whined.

"Mr. Black, why are you speaking when I am?" Professor McGonagall demanded from the front of the room.

Sirius sat up as straight as he could and replied, "Sorry, ma'am, I was just explaining to Moony—er, Remus—here how to transfigure what we learned last class period because it's abso-bloody-lutely fascinating and there is no way he could live without knowing it as it is vital to his everyday life."

"Black, I specifically remember Mr. Lupin helping you last class. Ten points from Gryffindor for lying. And stop trying to suck up. It hasn't worked for the past six and a half years and it isn't going to start working now."

Sirius stuck his tongue out at her as she turned her back. Stupid woman…If Transfiguration wasn't his favourite subject he would so let a niffler loose in her classroom. And then it would jump on Snivellus' greasy head because it's shiny, and McGonagall would have her hands full saving the greasy git and Sirius could revel in his awesome brainpower while Moony and Wormtail bowed at his brilliance, and Prongs, too, if the bloke ever showed up.

Great Merlin, Prongs was missing!

"Moony! Prongs is dead!"

Moony gave him a look and continued taking notes. Now that wasn't cool. He tapped Moony on the head. Moony ignored him. He tapped Moony harder. Moony ignored him. He walloped Moony on the head. The werewolf jerked forward and dug his quill into his paper so hard he must be scratching the desk, but ignored Sirius. Well, that was odd. Perhaps Moony's nerves weren't working and he couldn't feel anything. Maybe if he jammed his quill in Moony's ear he would feel it and recognize Sirius' desperate need to talk.

"You touch me with that and so help me I will eviscerate you on the next full moon so that should you happen to survive you will be forced into the same cruel fate I suffer every month."

Well, Moony's Mum Eyes in the Back of His Head were working properly. That was good to know.

"But Moony, Prongs is missing!"

"I noticed it, too," Wormtail piped up.

"See, Moony? Even Wormtail noticed. That means this is serious!"

Moony looked at them wearily. "If I give you back your parchment, will you stop talking to me?"

Ooh, that wasn't a bad tradeoff. Then he would look productive and McGonagall couldn't call on him for being a slacker because of his obviously diligent note taking. Then again, there was always the possibility that she would worry about his sudden work ethic that had been, oh, nonexistent his entire Hogwarts career…Ooh, then maybe she'd have a heart attack and class would be cancelled and he could search out the body of his dear, departed Prongs. Yes! I'll take my parchment back, Moony! He waited. And waited. And waited and waited and waited…and realized it would help if he said it out loud. Moony's Mum Eyes in the Back of His Head might be working, but the werewolf hadn't yet perfected his I Can Read Sirius' Mind talent. Verbal communication was still necessary. "Yes."

The parchment was slid back to him and Sirius gleefully picked up a quill.

0809 Hours. Prongs still missing. Presumed dead. Funeral arrangements in order. We can bury him in his four remaining shirts.

0810 Hours. IDEA! Prongs' missing shirts will show up as soon as Prongs is dead because then he won't need them anymore! BRILLIANT! Mum Potter will love me forever for finding them!

0811 Hours. Thought: Mum Potter might not be happy if she has shirts but no son in them. Must find Inflatable James Potter so she will not notice difference.

At that moment the classroom door opened and Prongs strolled in and over to his seat, whipping out his parchment and quills and taking notes like he hadn't just missed the first eleven minutes of class. Smooth. Sirius couldn't have done it better. Except for Prongs' happy grin. Too happy grin. No, wait…sappy grin. Gasp! Since when did Prongs grin like a sap! He was turning into a girl!

0813 Hours. Prongs is a pansy. He is grinning like a girl.

"How kind of you to join us, Mr. Potter," McGonagall said dryly. "Explanation for your tardiness?"

Prongs looked up at her. "I was helping a first year, Professor. His bag split and he dropped his books and needed help carrying everything to Potions. I'm sorry I disrupted your class."

McGonagall raised an eyebrow, but returned to instructing the class. Sirius looked at Prongs. "Liar."

Prongs grinned. "Who, me? Never."

"You know she's going to check your story with Slughorn," Moony said. Wait, why was Prongs special enough for Moony to talk to? There was some injustice going on here.

"Meh, who cares? I found my missing shirts." Prongs leaned back and widened his grin.

"Let me guess, they were folded up in your drawer right where you left them?" Moony asked, completely nonplussed.

"No. C'mon, Moony, give me more credit that that. I may be a bit thick, but I'm not that thick."

"In your bed where you left them because you secretly sleep with them at night?" Wormtail guessed.

"Not exactly, but you're close, Wormtail," Prongs said, his grin growing even more and his ego boosting. The Marauders liked to compare the size of Prongs' ego to the city of London, and it looked like another suburb or twenty had been added to it. Sirius frowned. That was not good. Prongs' ego was perilously close to exploding and covering everything in sight. If Sirius wasn't careful, Prongs' ego might beat his in size (although according to Evans, Prongs already had the biggest ego ever).

"Well, then, where are they?" Moony asked.

Prongs' grin got even bigger, if that was possible. "Evans nicked 'em. I caught her sleeping in one last night."

"YES! I KNEW IT!" Sirius shouted, leaping up. "I told you, I so told you! YEAH! YEAH! YEAH!" He did The Padfoot Dance of Victory, involving several pelvic thrusts and fist pumps. Too bad this was Transfiguration and not History of Magic. Binns never would have noticed his wee outburst.

"BLACK! STOP THAT OBSCENE MOVEMENT AT ONCE AND SIT DOWN. DETENTION!" McGonagall barked, face red and left eye twitching.

Sirius sat down and scowled. Stupid woman, ruining The Moment, because this was the The Moment, the one in which Prongs could finally stop obsessing over Evans and become a real person again. Ah, well, what did McGonagall know anyway, the old bat? Or should that phrase be changed to cat, since McGonagall was actually a cat? Meow. Sirius snickered.

"Black, I'm warning you," McGonagall snapped.

"Sorry, Professor," he said in his best apology voice. This time Prongs snickered. McGonagall didn't say a word. Crazy old cat.

McGonagall went back to teaching. The Marauders leaned close to Prongs. "What do you mean you caught Lily wearing one of your shirts?" Moony asked.

"Was she only wearing a shirt?" Wormtail asked, eyes wide.

"How'd you catch her? Burst into her room all manly like as she cried out for you?" Sirius demanded.

"Whoa, one question at a time, boys," Prongs said, full of self-confidence. "I mean I caught her wearing one of my shirts, Moony. How much more specific do you want me to be? My shirt was on Evans. Buttoned. Wrinkled. She—"

"Wrinkled?" Sirius asked. "Bloody hell, Prongs, she's probably worn it more than once."

Prongs smacked him. "Don't interrupt me, this is seri—important! Important! I did not almost say serious!" Sirius did his best Butt Strut, reserved for sitting when actual strutting was prevented. "Ew, Pads, do you have to do the Butt Strut? It makes you look gay."

"The better to make the girls convince me I'm not."

"Should it scare me that that sentence made sense?" Moony asked, rubbing his forehead.

"Probably."

"Oy, wankers! Back to me! This is Prongs time!" Prongs hissed. "Eyes on me, boys! I'm still answering your questions. Of course she was wearing more, Wormtail. She's got no meat on her bones—if she was only wearing my shirt she'd freeze to death."

"The better to warm her with your body heat," Sirius said suggestively. Aw, how cute, his little Prongsiepoo was growing up. Before he knew it there'd be mini-Prongsies running around with red hair and black hair and glasses and too many smarts for their own good—Great Galloping Merlin, Prongs was going to marry Evans, wasn't he! "Prongs, don't do it! Don't marry her! It's not worth it! Think of your bachelorhood! Think of me! If you don't live with me after school, imagine all the trouble I'll have no one to bail me out of because Moony would let me suffer on my own! Don't do it!"

The other three Marauders stared openly at him. "Nobody mentioned marriage, Padfoot," Moony said slowly. "Don't jump the broom."

"You're crazy," Wormtail said, sucking on his quill.

"Marriage is not a bad idea," Prongs said, staring off into Evansland. "She'd be pretty in white…"

"Prongs, you're drooling," Moony said. Prongs snapped back to attention and wiped his chin.

"Am not, you mork! Don't lie to me about me!"

Moony shook his head. "You're right about one thing, Padfoot. I would not get you out of trouble. It's better to let you learn from your mistakes."

Sirius shot Moony a raspberry. Moony rolled his eyes. Stupid intelligent werewolf Prefect.

"Back to me," Prongs said. "I still have to answer Padfoot's question! Unfortunately I didn't get to burst into her room or anything even remotely macho."

Sirius quirked an eyebrow, an art the Blacks had long since mastered. Besides being intimidating, it just made Sirius look cool. "If it wasn't macho, then what was it?"

Prongs shrugged. "I knocked on her door and she answered it in my shirt. When I pointed it out she turned as red as her hair and slammed the door in my face." Prongs' expression went dreamy again. "She's cute when she blushes. And when she's angry. And she looks hot in my shirt. I think I could die happy right now."

"Please don't," Sirius said. "If you die you won't be able to rib her endlessly for entering a boy's dorm uninvited, stealing clothes, sleeping in said clothes, and blushing endlessly at you, the toerag she claims to hate."

"Good point, Padfoot," Prongs said. "I'll rib her first, then die happy." He paused. "Do you think it's too much to hope for a kiss or two in between?"

"If she lets you kiss her and then you die, you'd better be willing to deal with her wrath forever in Hell because she'll make sure you end up there," Moony said as he detached himself from the group and went back to taking notes. Oh, right, they were in class. Meh, he could copy Moony's notes later. Moony pretended to be high and mighty, but when it came down to it, he had a heart begging to be walked on. Wait, that sounded Slytherin...Meh, he'd just buy Moony a bar of Honeyduke's chocolate later and call it all even.

Without Moony to glue them together, their group disbanded for the remainder of class. Sirius tapped his fingers together. Time to get back to recording…

0833 Hours. Prongs is not dead!

0834 Hours. Prongs is diligently taking notes. He has been living too long in Evansland. Must recorrupt him.

0835 Hours. Wormtail is picking his nose. Must do something about that…

0838 Hours. Hexed the little blighter. Unfortunately Moony un-hexed him before he even noticed. I swear being Prefect has not bee good for his health. He ought to take a page out of Prongs' book—being Head Boy hasn't affected HIM. Hmph.

0843 Hours. Evans still not here. Wonder if Prongs catching sight of her in his clothes (THAT SHE STOLE! PROOF THAT SHE'S NOT PERFECT! AND it was wrinkly) made her die. Wonder what we would say at her funeral? Here lies nonPerfect Prefect-gone-Head-Girl Evans. Wore Prongs' shirts and went to the Heavens.

Sirius snickered. It was quite a clever phrase, if he did say so himself. Good job, Padfoot. He patted himself on the back.

Prongs gave him an odd look. "You just patted yourself. On the back."

"Yes, yes I did."

Prongs gave him another odd look before returning to his notes. Sirius tore a bit off his parchment and stuck it in his mouth. He made sure it was good and slobbery before chucking it at Prongs. The Head Boy snapped his head around and gave Sirius a nasty glare. Well, it might have been nasty were it not for the patch of slobber now adorning Prongs cheek. Sirius grinned and had himself a private chuckle.

"What was that for?" Prongs hissed.

"You're acting like a nancy boy and taking notes," Sirius said, pointing at Prongs' dutifully-written-upon parchment.

"You are, too," Prongs returned, pointing out Sirius' own dutifully-written-upon parchment.

"Ah, my dear Prongsie, it's true, but I am not writing just any notes. I am writing the History of the Marauders according to Padfoot the Pretty Prevalent nonPrefect Perfect Pouf."

Prongs snickered.

"Oy, what's so funny?" Sirius asked, annoyed.

"Do you actually know what 'pouf' means, Padfoot?"

"Yes. It means dashingly debonair and studly, according to Moony."

Prongs just grinned. Sirius twitched an eyebrow, before the explanation hit him. Prongs was jealous. He was jealous that he had not been described as a pouf. Well, that was perfectly understandable, the poor boy. Sirius would be jealous, too, were he in Prongs' position.

But back to the matter at hand. "And yet you still are taking nancy boy notes."

Prongs slid his parchment under Sirius' nose. It read:

Lily. Lily Evans. Lily Marie Evans. Lily Marie Evans Potter. Lily Marie Evans, undisputed soul mate of one James Harold Potter, destined to be mother of the next generation of Potters and matriarch of all the Potter generations after that. Six or seven should do. Boys, that is. Strapping young boys, just like their father (me). Boy one to be named after me. Boy two named after Padfoot. Boy three named after Moony. Boy four—

Sirius looked back up at Prongs. "And you say you aren't taking nancy boy notes? You're an effing girl, Prongs. Evans doesn't even doodle like this! How did you pass your O.W.L.s?"

"Same way you did," Prongs retorted, taking his parchment back. "Pure and utter genius. And a lot of copying of Moony's notes."

"And why do I get the impression N.E.W.T.s will be no different?" Moony muttered.

"Aw, Moony, you are listening to us! I always knew you cared," Sirius gushed.

"Now who's a nancy boy?" Prongs groused.

Sirius did not have the chance to make a dignified and highly intelligent response, for at that exactly moment class ended and his would-be astounding words were cut off by the shuffling of books and students. It was a shame, too, because his retort would have surely made women weep, men shake, and brought nations to their knees.

Too bad.

McGonagall raised her voice over the din the students were making. "I have Miss Evans' work here, Miss—"

"—ter Potter, Mr. Potter," Prongs said smoothly, running up to McGonagall before Evans' best mate Alice could make a move. "I, the Head Boy, will take the Head Girl her work, as it is my rightful duty."

McGonagall frowned, but gave in. "Very well, Mr. Potter. Make sure she gets it."

"Yes, ma'am!" Prongs said with a salute.

Prongs sauntered over to the rest of the Marauders, his grin back in place. "I, boys, now have a perfectly good reason to run into our favourite Head Girl and make her confess her undying love for me."

Sirius returned the grin. "Go Prongs, you sly dog. I'm rubbing off on you."

"Which may or may not be a good thing," Alice said, sidling up to them. Sirius pulled his best smile at her. It was always good to get in with the best mate of your best mate's girl. Made you seem caring, compassionate, and like your best mate was a good catch for the best mate's best mate. "Don't pull that look at me, Black. You can't seduce me and your state of mind isn't going to affect how I feel about James and Lily." Sodding mind reader. Ooh, maybe Moony could take lessons from Alice and perfect his I Can Read Sirius' Mind talent. Score! Prongs had better snag Evans so Moony could mooch off of Evans' best mate. But back to the situation at hand, Alice frowned at Prongs. Frowning not good. "James, Lily never misses class. Considering what I sent you off to do last night, might I assume her absence is in direct relation to you?"

Prongs shrugged. "How should I know? I haven't seen her all day. I even waited outside her door and made myself late, but she never peeped. I figured she left early so as to avoid me, but I don't see her."

"If she's dead I will eviscerate you with a rusty spoon," Alice threatened. "And Lily's ghost will help me."

Prongs threw his hands up, not the brightest idea as he held many papers and books in his hands that Sirius was now reduced to picking up. "If she's dead, Alice, I will help you myself. At least then she and I can be united in death. Think she'd still fancy me in the afterlife?"

Alice just gave Prongs a hard look. "Don't muck this up, Potter. You make her cry, I'll make you cry. And I know how hard it is to make you cry." The girl turned and flounced off, leaving a paler Prongs in her wake.

"And to think, I always thought Alice was the nice one," Sirius commented, handing Prongs back his books and papers. "Think she's been spending too much time with Evans?"

Prongs shook his head. "I kind of forgot about friends being in the bargain when it came to dating. Think Evans likes me in spite of my friends?"

"Most definitely," Moony said at the same time Sirius said, "What? She loves us!"

Wormtail just squeaked.

Prongs shook his head again. "Whatever. I'm off, boys, to make the catch of the year. Next time you see me, the future Mrs. Potter will be hanging off my arm."

"If you propose to her before you go out with her, you won't need Alice to eviscerate you with a rusty spoon," Moony pointed out.

"Good point," Prongs said. "Wish me luck!"

And he was gone.

"I think we may have ourselves an honorary Marauder next time we see Prongs," Moony commented. "Hope you two are okay with it, because I think it's going be permanent."

"I have this feeling of impending doom," Sirius commented. "Think it's normal?"

XxxxxxxxX

Disclaimer: Don't own it.

A/N: Sorry it took so long, but it's up. One more sequel, and then this story arc will be over! Review if you want. If you don't want, think happy thoughts of me and then die so my theory will be proven true. (…er, if that sounded morbid…read my profile…explains everything… … …. runs)