Vivicendium ➝ Sirius Black/OC

Petitio principii

Chapter Twenty | Petitio principii

[Begging the question; a logical fallacy]

"Playing with someone's feelings is a really bad idea," Moony reminds Padfoot the next morning during breakfast, after he'd admitted that he had thrown together another poem to keep the prank going strong. None of the Marauders know when, exactly, he'd found the time to write poetry in the middle of a crazy party to celebrate the Gryffindor win, but apparently Padfoot has his ways.

"Playing with your food is a bad idea too, but I'm not nagging you about it," Padfoot replies with a sniff, and casts a disparaging glance at the way Moony is pushing his food around on his plate.

Moony sends him a tired glower, deciding not to bother informing Padfoot of what he already knows: that the full moon is only two days away and that he's already feeling the effects of it. His lack of appetite isn't abnormal around this time, and all of his friends know it well enough by now.

"Where'd you even find the time to compose poetry last night, Pads?" Prongs wonders as he shovels a mouthful of his breakfast into his mouth and chews loudly. Moony elbows him in the side, looking somewhat disgusted, and Prongs noisily winces back with far more drama than is necessary, acting as though he's been mortally stabbed.

"Urg – Lilyflower – must get to...Lilyflower..."

Padfoot kicks his shin under the table to snap him out of it. It doesn't entirely work, until Lily herself turns her head to glower over at them, evidently having heard her name and noticed the scene that Prongs is making. One icy glare from her is enough to make Prongs pout and slouch back into some semblance of normalcy. He sighs, pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose, and looks across the table at where Padfoot and Wormtail are sitting.

Wormtail, of course, is entirely engrossed in his meal, but Prongs' recent antics have distracted him enough to realize what the rest of his friends are trying to figure out. He looks over at Padfoot, swallows a mouthful of pancakes, and informs him, "Yeah, I didn't see you leave the party, Padfoot. Did you have a poem written already?"

The question makes Padfoot bark out a laugh and lift his chin. His voice is smug when he responds, "Wormtail, I've practically got a whole notebook of poems by now. This prank is easier than I ever thought it'd be."

At this, the Marauders send him surprised, baffled, and weird looks. (Surprise from Prongs, bafflement from Wormtail, and weird from Moony, to be specific.)

"...A whole notebook?" Prongs repeats, shooting a look at Moony, who is still staring at Padfoot as if he's the strangest creature on the planet.

Padfoot smirks, entirely unconcerned with the other Marauder's reactions, and shrugs, "I'm a wordsmith, gentlemen, what can I say?"

Moony twists his mouth into an expression that could either be a grimace or a smirk (or, perhaps, both), and dryly mutters, "I guess you've been really inspired by your muse, Padfoot."

Padfoot begins to nod, realizes what Moony has just said, and quickly responds, "Untrue! I just like rhymes."

"That is such bullshit," Prongs drawls. His expression twists into a smirk. "Blair inspires you, doesn't she? You love writing about her long, luscious hair and her pretty brown eyes, don't you?"

Padfoot's mouth drops open in disgusted horror. He meets Prongs' eyes, which are practically glimmering with amusement, and scowls, "You love taking things one step too far, Prongs."

Wormtail seems to agree, not that this surprises any of them. He has the tendency of agreeing with Padfoot regardless of what is being discussed. With a sage nod that doesn't look very sage at all, considering how much food he's got stuffed into his mouth, he says, "IssapwinkPwongs."