Sirius shrugged, accepting the 'muggle magic' bit. It was some ridiculously future year.. Two-million-nine or something. James probably had tiny robots living in his eyes or something. It probably said something that Sirius didn't find eyeball-robots terribly interesting.
"What's a Bree? Cheese or something, yeah? Are you taking cooking classes?" That seemed weird. He couldn't imagine Prongs cooking.
Sirius shouldered James, pushing him further into the room.