Disclaimer: Harry Potter does not belong to me. Neither do the Marauders (no matter how much I beg and plead).
The Marauders had skived off Divination (bloody useless class, like they were ever going to need it) to hang out on the West Tower.
"We'll be friends forever, right?" Sirius asked in a rare moment of insecurity.
"Even longer," James promised.
Remus propped himself up on his elbows. "I don't think anything could keep us apart," he said softly.
"We'll always find each other," Peter chimed in. "And nothing will come between us for too long."
Sirius smiled and tilted his head back to watch the clouds. "Nothing."
James stood on top of the West Tower and watched the sunset. He was still tall and strong, with pure black hair and sparkling hazel eyes. The door to the stairs crashed open and Sirius stumbled through. "James?" Sirius blurted out in astonishment. He was almost too thin, with broken gray eyes and a few gray hairs mixed in with the black. "What the hell is going on?"
James smiled sadly. "We're waiting, Padfoot." Time seemed to stretch for an eternity before the door opened again. Peter walked through, cringing and hunched over as if to avoid a blow. He was fat and balding, with guilty brown eyes and one hand replaced by a silver replica. Sirius growled slightly but didn't move. Another eternity passed and Remus walked through the door, worn and defeated. His brown hair was graying and his blue eyes were dull. The four stood silently.
James was the first to break the silence. "I don't know where we went wrong," he said firmly, "but we're not leaving until we figure it out." Peter's betrayal was the primary issue, but the Whomping Willow incident was brought up, as was Sirius' brief and disastrous relationship with Lily. Every hurt and imagined slight were pulled into the open; every fight was refought. Sides were chosen and changed as fast as fouls in a Gryffindor-Slytherin match.
And with every shouted accusation and heated defense, years dropped away from the four until finally the Marauders lay on the top of the West Tower, sixteen and friends. "What now?" Peter asked hesitantly.
James smiled confidently, eyes sparkling with a spirit that not death could dim. "Now?" He stood and pulled the door open. "There are worlds to be conquered, gentlemen, and mischief to make. Now we live."
A/N: I hate Peter with a passion. However, I had this adorable idea which required redeeming the rat. This will be the only time that happens. So, if you like Peter, I'm sorry.
