The Marauders - Order of the Phoenix - Part Two

Tu es prêt à faire des papouilles?

The lot of them ate dinner together and Remus perked up quite a bit once he had some good food in his body ("This is why I said it was you who craved it, Moony," James whispered to him during dinner with a wink), and the whole affair took on a bit of a festive feeling, which Lily hoped would come along with every after-full-moon night. They talked and laughed and Sirius sang random songs throughout the whole meal and James complimented Lily on her cooking profusely.

"Evans, it tastes just like mum's! Sirius, doesn't it taste like mum's roast?"

"As close as anything that doesn't come from mum's kitchen could taste, yeah," Sirius said. He looked at Lily, "No offense, it's just Mrs. P's roast was what kept me alive through some very terrible times at Number 12 Grimmauld Place in the past."

"None taken," Lily answered, "I know that woman's roast is the true definition of magic. I could never dream of competing really. No matter how much my husband wishes to appease me." She leaned over and kissed James's cheek.

James flushed. 

Peter said, "I think it's very good, too, Lily. And I like the potato jackets, too!"

"Thanks, Peter. My mum taught me the potato jackets recipe. The way they're cut is her secret to it - gets all the butter and sour cream into more of the potato." She smiled as James wrapped his arm around her shoulders and pulled her into him, kissing the side of her head.

When the dishes had all been cleared and magicked clean and into their cupboards, and everyone said goodnight, Peter, Remus, and Sirius said goodnight to the Potters and took the floo back to the flat in East London. Peter said goodnight and scurried off to bed almost immediately, but Sirius threw himself onto the couch laying and watching the telly while Remus took up some of his textbooks and worked at catching up on some of the assignments the full moon had kept him from working on.

Sirius was patient for quite some time. Remus managed to read through an entire chapter in one book, start a paper on a roll of parchment, and even got about halfway through another reading assignment before Sirius's voice floated over from the couch.

"Tu es prêt à faire des papouilles?"

Remus's head snapped 'round to look at Siris.

He'd turned off the telly and now lay on his side, head propped up with his bent arm, legs crossed, staring at Remus with one eyebrow raised.

Remus slowly closed his textbook and stood up, turning 'round to face Sirius with a serious look on his face, as though he were inspecting Sirius's form. "And what does that mean, -- sir?" he asked, pausing ever so slightly for emphasis before saying the last word.

Sirius's mouth slowly curled into a smile, his tongue caught very slightly between his front teeth, and he said, "It means - are you about ready to do some kissing?"

Remus nodded, pretending to be processing this question, contemplating it deeply, "I see," he murmured, "I see..."

"Tu me fais bander, Remus." 

Remus's eyes narrowed.

"Est-ce que je te fais bander?" Then Sirius laughed, his eyes twinkling. "Je vois que je le suis."

"I think you're trying to confuse me on purpose. You know that I don't know French, yet you insist on speaking it." Remus accused. He paused. "How do you say, 'you are a very bad boy' in French, Sirius?"

"Tu es un très mauvais garçon," Sirius replied, grinning. 

"Well, tu es un très mauvais garçon," Remus said, butchering the accent a bit.