Oh. My. FUCKING. God! I knew who you were before I even finished the first sentence - you fail so hard at anon when you write these boys!! And I love you for it! I love you for every bloody word of this fic, and I read every bloody word of this fic, most of them twice or more because it was that perfect(!!), and because there was no way in hell I wasn't going to savour every teeny tiny bit of it!
This - THESE - are my boys. (And Lily! Oh Lily, how I love you so hard!) This is exactly how they speak, how they feel, how they act, and oh, how they fuck! Clever and brilliant and beautiful and naughty as all fuck and lying sacks of shit the lot of 'em! And it's bloody GLORIOUS!
Matchstick, hairpin, matchstick, matchstick! Can I tell you I nearly died? You are a brilliant marvelous gorgeous wonderful thing and I could happily spend the rest of my life reading everything you write over and over again, and even if I never get laid again, I would STILL die with a gigantic ecstatic shit-eating grin on my face!
Every single detail, from the detentions to the portraits and tapestries and statues, to the bits about Gudgeon and who's having it off with whom (especially Peter!) and Sirius' pyromania, and the state of their dormitory - James' pants! Oh god yes! - and the SONG! Pointy Pointy! And - holy shit! - the contents of Remus' & Sirius' pockets - linty chicken bones and half-sucked sherbet lemons, and McGonagall as Beater and the bowtruckle and the moustache and Remus exploding cauldrons and Sirius rogering pumpkins!