Summary: In this year of 1977, Messers. Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot and Prongs have decided that they must decide on the matters of Godparents of their glorious sprog, as well as Best Men.

"This reaches a girly-girl-sleepover level of girlishness, Prongs."

The bespectacled boy turned around to glare at Sirius. "Shut up, you wanker. It's your fault we're doing this anyway."

Peter Pettigrew grinned from where he was nursing a hot cup of tea on the squishy red sofa. "He does have a point, mate."

"It's not my fault! I just said that the Ministry had better allow more than one godparent, especially when, gods forbid, James and Evans are the poor nipper's parents!" Sirius protested, throwing his arms in the air with vehemence and trying to grab at the parchment on which James was frantically scribbling something. "Oi! Let. Me. See!"

Remus sighed. "Sirius, stop acting like a puppy and calm down. James, Sirius is right. This sort of... making lists and stuff is usually done only by the other half of the human race, to which we do not belong. You know, the half that has breasts?"

"Oh, sure, take his side, Moony!" James shot Remus and affronted glare while swatting Sirius' hand away from his face. "I'm just trying to prevent any future quarrels. Ten years later, when I'm married to Lily and we have hundreds of beautiful babies and Peter finds someone who will shag him and you to finally get your acts together and settle down with someone, and the Marauders don't fall apart because of infighting and a dwindling fan base, you will thank me."

There was a brief silence in which they all stared at James Potter, who, oblivious to the sudden scrutiny and the large splotch of ink on his nose, was writing with flourish.

"Done!" He exclaimed, and at the same time, Peter started, "James-", and Sirius stuck is finger up his friend's nose.

During the brief scuffle that followed, Remus first counted to ten. Then, he pondered on the essay he had to write, a new chess move he had learnt from a sixth year Ravenclaw, and why he was friends with such utter imbeciles. He caught the eye of Lily Evans, who was working on said essay on the sofa placed very strategically, out of sight of James Potter, and she gave him a prefects in this together smile.

When Sirius had extracted his left index finger from James' right nostril and suitably screamed and scrugifyed it a dozen times, and Peter had finished coughing up tea, and James had finished prodding his nose gingerly, Remus stood up and picked the paper up from where it lay desolately on the floor.

Peter sat down carefully on the floor with the rest, closing the circle, and placing his steaming cup of tea delicately on the ground.

Remus cleared his throat. "In this year of 1977, Messers. Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot and Prongs have decided that they must decide on the matters of Godparents of their glorious sprog, as well as Best Men.

No. 1. Mr. Prongs has decided that the best man shall be the Godparent of the first child.-"

"Well, Mr. Padfoot thinks that that is a stupid idea."

"Mr. Prongs thinks that Mr. Padfoot can bugger off."

"Mr. Wormtail thinks that he would like to hear the rest, thank you very much."

"Thank you, Pete. Now, if you two don't mind.

No. 2. Mr. Padfoot shall be Mr. Prongs' best man. Mr. Moony shall be Mr. Prongs' second son's Godfather, and Mr. Wormtail shall be Mr. Prong's daughter's godfather."

"Prongs, please tell me you didn't decide their names as well."

"Um..."

"Blimey, you are such a girl!"

"Am not!"

"Are too!"

"Am not!"

"Are too!"

"Am no-"

Peter watched the two boys, amused, while Remus ran a weary hand over his face, a gesture that was all too familiar. "Will you two idiots shut up?"

The boys winced.

"Yes, Remus."

"Sorry, Remus."

"Right. No. 3. Mr. Wormtail shall be Mr. Padfoot's best man and Mr. Prongs shall be Mr. Moony's best man. Neither of them will have any children, Padfoot because of the incident that took place with the giant squid and the nettles and the pumpkin juice and -"

There was a collective shudder from all and sundry, and Sirius winced. "We decided to call it either Prank-Gone-Wrong-Seven or The-Incident-That-Shall-Not-Be-Mentioned, thank you very much."

"- because of The-Incident-That-Shall-Not-Be-Mentioned, and Moony because-"

"-Because for someone so smart, he can be a stubborn, stupid little bastard."

"Exactly what I was going to say, James."

"Thank you Wormy. Padfoot?"

"I agree, Prongs. Moony is a stubborn little bastard when he wants to be, especially when he's making us pack."

Peter and James nodded empathetically as Remus rolled his eyes at Lily, who was watching the proceedings with mild interest.

"Remember the time he made us roll our socks," Peter said, shaking his head, and looking deeply horrified.

James nodded solemnly. "It was terrible. It was terrifying. It was-"

"Horrific," Sirius agreed. "Frightful. Years hence, the sweet, innocent fruit of my loins will ask me why, oh why! is their father so scarred and broken? And I will say, my words deep with despair-" There was a pause as Sirius clutched dramatically at his chest. "- it was the socks that did it."

Remus' lips twitched and he bit the inside of his cheek to stop himself from chuckling. "I thought we decided that you weren't having any children, Pads."

Sirius sorted from where he was lying in James' lap. "I'd like to see a little thing like the Incident stop me from copulating."

"Amen to that, mate."

"Will you continue, Moony?"

"Okay, Pete, you're coming up anyway. No. 4. Mr. Moony shall be Mr. Wormtail's best man and Mr. Prongs shall be his second child's Godfather."

"What about me?" Sirius snatched the paper away from Remus and frowned at it.

"That's it, Pads."

"Hey! That's not fair! Oi, Prongs, you wanker, I'm not Wormtail's spawn's anything!"

"S'not my fault," James muttered, lazily, leaning back against the couch and fiddling with his hair. "S' Pete's. Get him to have another kid."

Sirius sat up and clambered across Remus- kneeing him in the stomach in the process (oof! Padfoot!)- to sit down next to Peter. "Wooooorrrmmyyyyyyyy," he moaned, piteously, poking the shorter, pudgy boy. "Wormy pleaaaseeeeeee. Wormy !"

"What! No! I don't want three children! I want only two!"

Sirius sighed, leaning back and preparing to shoot Peter down with his infamous and highly dangerous puppy-dog eyes.

Remus should have expected it when Sirius leant back, paper still in his hand. There was a sudden clink! And then a slosh! As all the tea, the steaming hot, aromatic, velvety tea, flew determinedly over Sirius' hand and onto the parchment.

There was brief, tense silence.

Then there was a wail of "My list! My list!" and "Ah! Bugger bugger bugger my hand!" and "Sirius, you bastard, my tea!".

Remus took the moment to, once again, contemplate finding new friends.

A/N: See, I CAN write non-angst.