Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, home to hundreds of students and to many great witches and wizards over the years. In this story though, we date back to Hogwarts in the year of 1976 and our story revolves around 6 students, known by their peers as James Potter, Sirius Black, Remus Lupin, Lily Evans, Marlene McKinnon and Dorcas Meadowes.
Here is where the story starts. Before the words became jumbled and just became names. From when they stood together, with each other till the very end of the line and the memories they made on the way. You may tell them to stop fighting, to forget about hope, to consider their paths, that this isn't their war, but they're not gonna take it. They don't know where they're going but whatever happens they'll carry the memories of each other with them forever. And replay them over and over.
This is their story.
Summer Holidays, 1976
The clapping of thunder rolled across the sky. The often picturesque landscape was instead replaced by dark leaden menacing clouds layered over the skies, accompanied by sharp bolts of lightning, heavy rain pouring down in sheets, the source of the raucous slaps across the windscreen. Sirius Black felt his stomach churn, not by the unsteady motions of the Knight Bus, though by the events which had led to him boarding it.
Sirius unlike most wizards hated the summer holidays as it meant having to go home, to 12 Grimmauld Place where there was not a moments of peace, and he was the cause.
"Blood traitor!" "Poor excuse for a son!" "Disgrace to the Black family name!" The screams produced by Orion and Walburga Black echoed the halls of the eerie house day after day accompanied by scarring curses and hits. On this particular day, it was worse than it had ever been before. Sirius shook his head in an attempt to be rid of the memories, of what had led to him being tortured by the Cruciatus curse, what had caused the final fissure, why Sirius had left Grimmauld Place, never to return.
Big black combat boots trudged through the mud, the sheets of rain soaking his clothes, making each step he took heavier. To any muggle onlooker, the sight ahead would appear as a small cottage, surrounded by large field, one would assume it belonged to farmers. To a wizard however, ahead of them would be a towering manor and although the rain was forceful and the skies were full of menacing dark clouds, it would hardly go unnoticed how well kept the property was. A field could be spotted afar accompanied by Quidditch hoops, a well-kept front garden welcomed any guests, sprouting daisies, magnolias and tulips, featuring fountains and flutterby bushes. Once the sight of the garden was absorbed a trail of pebbles, assembling into a path, led to the front of the manor.
Big black combat boots trudged carefully along the pebbled path, accompanied by a silent curse every time a muddy mark was left. Sirius stood at the front of the manor. The door of which he had been welcomed into time and time again. The door he and James had ran through countless times after a long day of adventure. The door that was a symbol to him of what it felt like to have a home. But he couldn't do it. He couldn't knock. What if they didn't want him? What if they would just see him as a burden? And James. What would James think? James was the only person who could make this better, he always was. James who had inherited these qualities from his parents. Who Sirius prayed as he drew his hand to knock on the door, could make this better.
It was Euphemia Potter who opened the door. Euphemia Potter was a short woman with shoulder length river-silver hair. It was clear in her youth she was beautiful though old age had not stolen all of her beauty. She still possessed the kindest marbling hazel eyes you could ever know and there was still an occupancy of strength and wisdom in her olive-skinned face despite her aged exterior.
As soon as she saw the sight in front of him she rushed forward and held the boy in a motherly embrace. "Oh my darling boy, inside, come inside," she took Sirius by the hand and had only taken one step when a large yell echoed through the halls.
"PADDY?!" James Potter ran like the speed of light, a blur of dark messy hair, long limbs, and a Gryffindor Quidditch jersey accompanied by heavy footsteps made their way down the marble staircase that led to the sitting room and down the hall which led to the hallway, never taking his eyes of his best friend, his path clear, only stopping once he had reached his best friend.
It was in that moment, Mrs Potter was brought back to a young eleven year old Sirius Black, sleeping on the couch in the sitting room after Flooing for James in the dead of the night as, "James from school said to just Floo him when things got really really bad at home," and woke up to a snoring James and Sirius tangled on the same couch, fast asleep, arms and legs all over the place, both black haired boys looking as if they were brothers and they proved to be just like brothers every day from the moment they met, especially this one. James held Sirius in an embrace so tight, it was if he was afraid of letting go, as if letting go would cause him further pain, causing pain to himself. Sirius held James in an embrace so tight, it was as if he was afraid of losing him, as if losing him would mean losing the best thing that had ever happened to him, losing a part of himself.
"You're home now," whispered James as he finally let him go only to sling an arm around Sirius' shoulder, "Let's take your stuff up to your room mate." The boys walked up the stairs together as Euphemia Potter watched and she could've sworn she could see both of her boys' eyes beginning to water, just as hers own.
After the two boys had gone up, and Fleamont Potter, who had earned a full account of the night's events from his worried wife, had arrived home, the now equally worried couple sat in their sitting room, the smell of wood encircled the room and the crackle sound of the fire was all that could be heard,brewing over the events of that night.
"The barriers," Fleamont said interrupting the silence and looking up to his wife, "Only a member of the Potter family is able to pass through them and others are only allowed within the assistance of one, it's very advanced and very old magic."
"It's about time isn't it?" asked Euphemia, watching her husband over the mug of tea she held in her hands.
"About time for what?" asked Fleamont bemusedly.
"The problem with all this old magic is- it's old, and slow. It's not as quick as it used to be and for the past five years I've been waiting for it to recognise we have a second son," replied Euphemia.
It was as though the events of that night had cast a spell upon the world that day. This is why our story begins here. Because this was when everything began to change. When a lot of what James, Sirius, Lily, Remus, Marlene and Dorcas knew, would never be the same again. There was a magic in it, but not the magic we're used to, not real magic, but an unspoken shift. This is when the clock began to tick, counting down to an unavoidable future of war they were beginning to prepare for.