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24 Hours Shichan Goddess Hour 5: Hour of Foot In Mouth Syndrome “It is better to keep your mouth shut and appear stupid than to open it and remove all doubt.” ~Mark Twain (1835-1910) “Oh get off it, Potter! I didn’t hurt you too badly, now did I?” James pouted to himself and rubbed his hand over his sore cheek once more. “Yes.” Lily gave an irritable sigh. “You’re an idiot.” “Why, thank you!” “And a prat, you know that?” “Yes, Evans, I’m well aware of your sentiments for me. I’ve only heard them every bloody thirty seconds!” Lily smirked at him. “As long as you know that I hate you, I’ll be happy.” James inwardly winced, and took several deep calming breaths. “After all, Potter, you’re an egoistical, annoying, stupid moron…” James’ eyes flashed with anger. “Evans, where do you come off—” “…Who got us into this mess.” James gaped. “What the bloody hell? Are you daft, woman?” Lily sniffed indignantly. “Well it had to have been you. Your blundering idiocies must have gotten us captured.” “Wha—Arrgh! Women!” ****************************************************************************** “Peter!” The short, plump man glanced wearily in the direction of the shout. The familiar walls of the Order’s meeting place were strangely foreboding tonight, and did not bring him the comfort, the luxury, of safety. For no one was ever safe from the Dark Lord. “You look awful, Peter,” There was Arabella, always worried and doting after everyone’s health. “You must have heard the news of James and Lily’s capture.” “Hm? Oh, yes, I heard. Terrible. Simply terrible.” “You poor boy,” Arabella tutted, looking compassionate. “I know that James was—is, a good friend of yours.” “Yes, yes, of course.” She led him through the lit hallways to the makeshift bunks, and throughout the way, sickeningly sweet concerns were tossed in his direction. The well wishes and sympathetic glances were nearly more than he could take. He wondered, absently, what they would say, what they would think, if they knew the truth. In all honesty, however, he was not eager to find out. A small part, a very small part, whispered that this was wrong, that this was the utmost betrayal. It was quickly silenced however, by the Dark Lord’s promises of power, admiration, and *respect.* ‘They’ll all get what they deserve, every last one of them!’ He thought with conviction. This was war, and there was no use in thinking about the well being of others. There was no time for friends or loyalties. There was only one thing that mattered in this whole damned war, and that was *himself.* ****************************************************************************** “You’re a big headed prat.” “You’re a know-it-all.” “You still run your hands through your hair to make you look cool!” “You snore!” “You’re a womanizer!” “You’re a feminist!” “You pig!” “You troll!” “You MAN!” “You WOMAN!” “You’re infuriating!” “Yes, well, so are you!” “Shut up!” The two cried at once, and fell back into a sulky silence, glaring at the walls. ****************************************************************************** “Moo~oony…” Sirius wheedled. “Come on, Moony.” Remus didn’t even glance up. “Shut up, Sirius. We have to follow procedure. You know that we can’t report anything until the person has been missing for twelve hours.” Sirius growled in frustration, and exploded, “Look, just because YOU don’t care, it doesn’t mean that I’m going to sit back here and do nothing!” Sirius immediately regretted his words as soon as they left, and wished he could snatch them from the air and stuff them back inside his mouth. Remus pulled back his hand as if burned and took a step back into the shadows. His eyes were covered by the shadows made by his bangs, and he stared at the ground. “Moony, look, I didn’t mean—” “Yes, I know. I’m a werewolf,” A bitter smile touched the corners of his lips briefly. “And I can’t…*care*.” “Moony—!” “No, Sirius, I know.” Remus’ quiet voice was soft and slightly weary. “I know you didn’t mean anything by it.” Sirius bit his lip as he stared at the other’s slumped shoulders. He cursed himself and his god-forsaken mouth, and wished that he could rip out his wretched tongue. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, Remus glanced up at him, a small smile on his features. “Well then? Shall we go?” Sirius stopped, bewildered, “What about procedure?” “*Damn* procedure.” Sirius’ mouth dropped open as he watched Remus’ retreating back, and quickly hurried to join him.

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