Muffins Are a Delight

Author's Note: Thanks to my amazing beta reader (Lady Lemon Drop), I now know "muffins" are what you call "cupcakes" in England. And "icing" is "frosting". Just in case you're thinking of blueberry muffins, I'm adding this note.

It's a very very bad thing when four fifteen year old Gryffindor boys are lying down silently on their beds, reading their textbooks. It's even a worse thing when the four are notorious for setting trouble all around the school, making cheeky statements at professors, and sneaking about the place, usually lurking behind statues to hex unsuspecting Slytherins walking down the corridor.

And they were reading a textbook? Something had to be wrong.

"I can't do this anymore!" screamed an exasperated Sirius Black, throwing down his History of Magic textbook in anguish. The three boys looked up, raising their glum eyebrows at him.

"What is it, Sirius?" James Potter, the main leader of the gang, inquired in a very dull voice. "We're still having that race on who can finish their textbook first, you know."

Sirius frowned, snorting slightly. "Yes, well, I quit. I can't do this."

"You're right," Remus, the more studious one of the group, sighed, putting aside his dull, dull Charms book.

"I third that," spoke up Peter, making a disgusted face. "This is enough to kill a poor, innocent rat."

The four lay back in their beds, staring up at the ceiling from their half-closed eyelids, an air of staleness around them.

"Just because it's snowing terribly outside doesn't mean we should be subjecting ourselves to torture," murmured James, staring at his fingers.

"I wish it would stop snowing," Peter sighed, glancing out the window. "Then we could actually do something."

"The saddest thing is that all the Slytherins went home for the holidays," grumbled Sirius, moving his arm over his eyes. "I wonder why they did."

Remus snorted and sarcastically replied, "Maybe it was because someone was popping out from every statue, trying to hex them at every chance."

"Nah, doubt it," James dismissed with a wide grin. "Probably because of old Binns boring the hell out of them. You know he still does patrol."

"So what are we going to do?" Peter inquired, rolling his eyes slightly. "But no more textbook reading contests. Please."

Sirius scowled, crossing his arms and sitting up on his bed. "Damn right. I'm tired of reading about the bloody trolls and however we tried to kill them all or whatever Naman the Norfolk did."

"I have no ideas," groaned Remus, slumping on his own bed. "I think my brain's oozed out of my ears, thanks to the boring contest we just made up. Whose idea was that anyway?"

"I think it was yours," James replied, grumbling to himself.

"My idea? It wasn't my idea!" Remus argued. Sirius, muttering to himself ("Stupid, immature gits," he thought), merely turned to his nightstand drawer and started digging around. At first it was a dull activity since he only found worthless pieces of parchment and broken quills, but suddenly he came upon something... mushy.

"What the–?" he stammered and looked into the drawer. He found that his hand was covered in white icing, thanks to a muffin that was sitting in his drawer.

Finding it entirely odd, but not displeased, Sirius pulled out the muffins (there were a case of twelve in there) in awe. James and Remus didn't notice, being too busy bickering, but Peter immediately saw what he had brought out of his drawer.

"Are those... muffins?" Peter whispered, raising his eyebrows. Sirius nodded, grinning widely.

"That they are, Pete." Sirius examined the icing on his hand and looked up at Peter. "So you want one?"

"Why do you have muffins in there?" Peter frowned, looking disgusted. "And no thanks. I don't want to eat anything that you offer me ever again."

"Oh, come on! Don't tell me you're still whining about the time I gave you some blood-flavored lollipops!" Sirius cried in exasperation, rolling his eyes.

"They were disgusting!"

"I did that once! Can't you trust your own mate?"

Peter gave Sirius a very serious look (no pun intended). "Sirius, that happened just yesterday. You think I'm going to start trusting you so quickly?"

"Oh, Merlin, don't give me a lecture about trustworthiness," grumbled Sirius, icing still on his fingers. "And come on! They're just innocent little muffins! How can you go wrong with muffins?"

"Muffins?" Remus repeated, raising his eyebrows and looking over from his quarrel with James. "You have muffins?"

"I do," answered Sirius with a very smug expression. "Jealous, Remus?"

Remus snorted, rolling his eyes. "Oh, yes, I've always wanted to eat muffins that came out of your nightstand drawer."

"Why is everyone having a bloody cow about that?" Sirius asked confusedly. "What's wrong with my drawer?"

Peter began, "Well, for one, it's filled with nasty things like when you were doing that weird thing with–"

"Alright, alright!" Sirius interjected hotly. "No need to talk about that incident."

"Give me a muffin," James ordered rudely, ignoring what Sirius was saying. "I'm starving."

Sirius, looking ticked off that James was being so demanding, shook his head and stuck out his tongue childishly. "No."

"Why?"

"Remember that time you wouldn't bring up the treacle tarts from dinner that one time?"

"Sirius Black, that happened in third year!"

"So?" sniffed Sirius, clutching his twelve muffins rather protectively. "It still hurt my feelings very much."

"Bull."

"Fine, it hurt my stomach very much. It was still a painful experience."

"Just give me a muffin!"

"James, these came from his drawer," Remus said, raising his eyebrows. "You do know what he stuffs in there, right?"

Peter spoke up with a grin. "Yeah, things like–"

"Alright!" Sirius interrupted again, looking very embarrassed. "Peter, would you just shut up about that?"

"Aw, Sirius is too shy to admit what happened that night," teased Remus, sharing all-knowing winks with Peter. "You know you really shouldn't've brought Snape to our dormitories–"

"Quiet," growled Sirius, looking painfully shamed at the incident. "I didn't ask for your opinion, Remus Lupin. I didn't ask you to speak either. Or exist. Or stare at me in that lustful way."

"What?" spat Remus, looking very shocked and revolted. "What did you say?"

"You secretly love me, Remus," sighed Sirius, flopping back on his bed as if he was exhausted with all this supposed adoration. "You want me."

"Yes, I want you," Remus answered sarcastically. "To die."

Sirius frowned. "That doesn't sound very loving."

"It's very loving."

"I think you're lying–"

"Oi, can I just have a bloody muffin?" James interrupted, looking annoyed. "I told you, I'm famished."

"No."

"C'mon, please?" James said with a tint of a begging tone in his voice. "I'm your best mate."

"Or you could just be an impostor with the Polyjuice Potion," murmured Sirius, tapping his chin. Remus gave him a startled look.

"How did you know about the Polyjuice Potion?"

"Slug Club," Sirius answered with a shrug. "Slughorn's tongue is quite loose when he's drunk, you know."

"Yes, he'll tell you anything," James said dryly. "Like about his supposed affair with one of the professors whose name I will not reveal just for the sake of your innocence."

"It must be someone dreadful if you're not telling us," Peter remarked, looking much too disappointed for someone whose innocence just had been saved. "Tell us anyway."

"I will if Sirius will give me a muffin."

Peter gave Sirius a pleading look. "No," Sirius said immediately.

"Bastard."

"Love you too, Pete."

"Merlin, just give–" James leaped across the room, reaching for the muffins. "Me–" Sirius squealed, trying to get the muffins out of James' hand. "The–" James swatted, reading for the delicious things. "Muffins!"

"Never!" yelled Sirius, instinctively reaching and shoving a muffin at James' face before he knew what he was doing. A sudden silence fell in the dormitory as the four boys examined with horror, their best mate, James Potter, standing by Sirius' bed, his face covered in white icing.

There would be hell.

"J- James mate," stammered Sirius, looking very nervous. "Let's just get you washed up–"

"No."

"No?"

A wide grin fell on James' face. "This is a muffin. And bloody hell, it takes good. Mmm, thanks."

With a relieved breath, the three settled down again, Sirius with his eleven muffins next to him. Remus grinned as Peter eyed the muffins himself, probably wondering if they were safe. Seeing James licking the icing that was on his face, Peter spoke up.

"Hey Sirius, can I have some too–"

End.

"Icing, made, of, genuine, thestral–" Sirius read the side of his muffin container. His face fell and turned sickly. "–piss?"

A sudden silence fell.

"I don't want one," Peter said quickly as Remus made a gagging sound. James froze, suddenly stopping on the act of licking the icing off the muffin. Sirius looked up with a disgusted expression at James.

"Sirius. Black."

"James, just sit back down on your bed–"

"You."

"No, no, it's fine, just sit back down–"

"Did this–"

"Down James, down! No, no, no. Sit–"

"On purpose!"

"Ahhhh!"