Killer Queen (A Marauders FanFiction)

Chapter 6 - It's Late

"If Remus doesn't hurry the fuck up then I'm leaving."

On any other Friday night, what I would need would be to blow off some steam after a long week. What I would need would be to have a party. What I would need would be to make out with my latest victim/boyfriend. What I would need would be to get absolutely shitfaced. But no. Not on this Friday night. Oh no. On this Friday night, while I wanted to be doing something worth my energy, I was waiting for one of my dickhead friends to come to the Gryffindor common room as he apparently had some amazing news.

Amazing news, my arse.

I swear on my record player, that boy is walking a fine line of either being my friend or getting fucking smacked. A very fine line. About as fine as a grain of salt. Speaking of salt, Remus was getting a shitload in his tea tomorrow morning if he didn't get here within the next minute.

I'm such a great friend, aren't I?

"I'm serious, this better not be a joke," I huffed, slouching against the boy whose lap I was currently sitting on. Rick or Dick or something like that. All I could remember was that his face was vaguely reminiscent of a young David Bowie and honestly, I like that in a guy. He softly caressed my thigh with his thumb and pressing a rather wet kiss to the back of my neck. The thought was there at least, even if the hand on my leg was getting a bit too far up for my liking.

Peter gave me a pointed look, "You need to calm down, he's only a couple minutes late."

"What about the time we were, what, 5 minutes late to lunch? You looked as if you were going to have a mental breakdown right there and then," James smirked, no real malice behind the statement. It still made Peter blush furiously to which James only ruffled his hair.

"You just want him to hurry up so you can shag your friend in a broom cupboard," Sirius said, sounding like a disappointed father.

"Darling, you're a fine one to talk, or are we going to let go of the incident where Filch locked you in a cupboard while you were fucking some girl last year?" I retorted, only resulting in a staring contest between us. OK, so maybe we were both, let's say, experienced in that department. Was it a good thing? Probably not. Was it legal? Oh, fuck no. The law was just something that happened to other people really. This only started in the first place because of a extremely impractical bet that was made in our third year.

"Sirius Black, you whore."

"I am no whore! I am as pure as Jesus Christ himself!"

"If you're as pure as Jesus then Ruth is bloody God."

"Fuck off Peter."

"I'm good thanks."

"Sirius, I have not let you go just yet, young man. I know the walk of shame when I see it."

"Yeah from all the guys that you've made traipse out of our room after an interesting date."

"Fuck off Peter."

"Whatever. I could still get more shags than you."

"You wanna bet?"

"Alright then."

Whoever got more shags by the time we left Hogwarts got 100 galleons from the loser. Which is bad because I don't have 100 galleons. And I reckon Sirius doesn't either. Hence why we were both so keen to win. Although if I'm honest, if I managed to keep whatever would be left of my dignity in tact by the end of our seventh year, that would be enough for me. Not that I would ever admit that to Sirius.