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Disclaimer: Oh, if it were mine...          

Written for faerieall's "The Talk" challenge.  Sorry it's so short!

            “Peter,” James Potter began seriously, “we need to have a little chat.”

            Peter Pettigrew’s watery blue eyes widened as he wondered what he could have possibly done.  “What’s wrong?”

            “Nothing’s wrong, mate, we just need to talk to you.  Padfoot?  Moony?  You ready?”  Sirius Black dropped his copy of Wizard Weekly (a new branch of the ever-popular Witch Weekly) with a certain amount of regret and moved closer, nodding all the while.

            Remus Lupin sighed.  “James, I really don’t think this is necessary.”

            “This is the rest of Peter’s life we’re talking about.  Of course it’s necessary.”

            Peter was starting to sweat now.  What could he possibly have done to merit all of this?

            “All right.  Peter, I understand that you’re dating a Deanne Wright?” Remus’s words were dull; clearly, this had been planned.  Peter nodded slowly.

            “I was afraid of this,” Sirius exclaimed melodramatically, falling backwards onto his bed and staring at the ceiling.  Slowly, he pulled himself upright again and whispered, “Wormtail, mate, you can’t date her.  She has…the herpes.”

            Remus’ eyebrows shot up.  “And you know this how?”

            “Remember that time in September, in the broom closet by old Minnie’s room?  Highly nasty experience there.  Worst mistake I nearly made, let me tell you.”

            “Padfoot,” James hissed, “this is not how we rehearsed it!”

            “He has a right to know, all right?  I don’t want one of my best mates having herpes!  You haven’t shagged her yet, have you?” Sirius demanded worriedly, staring at Peter.

            “Shagged…her?  What are you talking about?”

            James gaped.  “He really doesn’t know, does he?”

            “Apparently not.  This is serious.” Sirius’ expression was grave as he seized a quill.  “Look.  This is you.  Moony, pass me your ink.”

            “I’m not going to give you my ink so you can use it for some kind of gruesome demonstration.”

            “It’s an anatomy lesson, Moony, and it’s crucial to Peter’s development as a man.  You don’t want him growing up to be a short, fat, balding man who’s never had a girl and will die in a dark, musty cellar by his own hand due to his loneliness, do you?”

            Remus blinked, trying to make sense of this, before giving up and passing over the ink.  “All right, fine.”

            James seized it.  “This is…well, we’ll just say Deanne, for lack of someone better to use.”

            Sirius seized the ink, looked at it for a moment and sighed.  “We can’t use this.  We need to put it on its side and it’ll spill.  Then Moony’ll get mad at us for wasting his precious ink.”

            Peter was growing redder and redder by the minute.  “I…you guys…”

            Sirius seized his own bottle of ink and flipped it upside down, watching Remus’ face with great amusement as the ink spilled all over the rug.  “I’ll clean it later, Moony, but this is important.”

            Remus sighed for what seemed like the twentieth time that day and Vanished the ink.  “Honestly.”

            “And when you put your quill in her ink bottle…”

            “I get it!” Peter exclaimed suddenly, his face a violent red.  “You don’t need to go into any more detail!”

            “Are you sure, Peter?  Because if you really don’t know, Prongsie and I are the resident experts.”

            Remus snorted and went back to reading his book.

            “I need to go…” Peter ran out of the dorms as fast as his short legs could carry him.

            “Bugger,” Sirius muttered, stretching, “I didn’t even get to the good part.”

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