Chapter One

A/N—So, welcome, everyone, whoever you may be! This story is essentially going to be the marauders' lives at Hogwarts. It will remain in third person and I won't be adding any particularly major plot points that will affect the canon Harry Potter timeline, but I hope it doesn't get too boring! Don't be afraid to message me if it does—constructive criticism is welcome! Thanks so much for reading!

The world of Harry Potter belongs to JK Rowling

Sat in his office, Albus Dumbledore prepared himself for the upcoming year. September 1st had rolled around once again, and he was as ready as he would ever be. Which was, of course, even more prepared than necessary, given the fact that he was Albus Dumbledore. A wise man never denied his own ability where it was clear, he had once said. There were many things a man such as Albus Dumbledore had once said, and not all of them were as wise as that.

Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry was polished and at the ready, the suits of armour shone, the portraits were free of the dust they had gathered over the six weeks in which no one but himself had been there to care for them and the house elves were cooking up their best feast yet down in the kitchens several floors below. It was true, Professor Dumbledore was as ready as he would ever be, but he still had an air of wariness about him as he mulled over what might happen in the year ahead. There were some big names approaching in the new set of first years. Potter, Snape, Mulciber, Black and Longbottom to name a few. Yes, it was good to remain wary, as you never know who could be lurking around the corner.

Platform nine and three quarters was buzzing. First years were grinning nervously, bouncing up and down on the balls of their feet, fifth years were groaning about the exams they would face at the end of the year, and seventh years were laughing and reminiscing with their old friends, all too aware that they would not be boarding the train in one year's time. Every few seconds, another family would appear seemingly through a solid brick wall, owls hooting from cages and broomsticks tied to trunks for safe keeping.

One of these families, no different from any of the others, were laughing through bittersweet smiles as they said goodbye to each other for the first time. The Potters were a renowned family in the wizarding world due to Mr Potter's invention of Sleekeazy's Hair Potion, which had ultimately made the family fortune. Fleamont and Euphemia Potter had tried for several years to start a family together and had just about given up hope when Euphemia discovered she was pregnant. Their son, James, could do no wrong in their eyes. He was their pride and joy, even if the child had a tendency to cause trouble where it wasn't needed. He would do well at Hogwarts, they had decided, and so it was with bone-crushing hugs and promises of letters that the elderly couple waved their eleven-year-old off as he began the next stage of his life.

James Potter himself was a small, yet healthy-looking boy, with a mess of jet black hair and square glasses on his nose. His hazel eyes glittered with an intense curiosity that could rarely be matched in someone other than himself. Dragging his trunk behind him, James glanced carefully into each train compartment, hands shaking in excitement and, although he would not care to admit it, nervousness. Most people had already found their seats on the train, and it was a good five minutes before James found a compartment he wanted to sit in. There was one other boy in there—a first year like himself. Sliding the door open, he addressed his new classmate with a cheeky grin.

"Hello."

"Greetings, fellow first year," the boy said, causing James to snort at the mocking tone in his voice.

"Can I sit here?" James gestured to the seat opposite where the boy was slouched lazily.

"Well I don't know any magic yet, so I couldn't really hex you if you did so against my will. Yes, you may sit here."

"James Potter," he said, sitting down with a laugh.

"Sirius Black."

James froze. He knew of the Black family: blood purists and prejudiced to the extreme, and he was also all too knowing of how his family did not like the way the Blacks worked. They clashed, his father would say. Now unsure, James looked up again at the boy, Sirius, before him. He didn't seem bad, he thought desperately. There was a book lying abandoned next to him—a textbook. Okay, yeah, he seemed like an okay kid, and James wasn't going to dismiss him straight away. Ditching him would be easy enough if the time came and Black's true colours turned out to be…Black. Besides, his father always said to give new people a chance.

The conversation was full of the normal jokes an eleven-year-old boy would tell, and laughter filled the compartment within minutes. This Black boy was alright, and they were both in need of a friend. The train set off at a leisurely trundle, and the two boys spoke to each other undisturbed, no one else was in the compartment but them. Until, that was, a knock pulled the boys out of their conversation. It was opened by an old woman with a kindly smile, but that wasn't what James and Sirius were looking at. They were looking at her cart. Her cart full of sweets. Chocolate frogs, liquorice wands, cauldron cakes—everything.

"Anything from the trolley, dears?" she asked pleasantly.

Nodding eagerly, both boys spewed a long list of their favourite treats, pulling gold coin after gold coin out if their pockets. When they were finished, the trolley lad gave a tinkling laugh and pulled their chosen goods from the shelves, adding up prices quietly as she handed them their food.

James decided the train ride was his favourite part of Hogwarts so far, and Sirius let out a barking laugh at this statement.

"It's the only part of Hogwarts you've seen so far," he pointed out, unable to keep the amused smirk off of his face.

They weren't interrupted again for another hour. The door to their compartment was opened by a tall boy with sandy hair and a scarred face. Strange. Scars? At eleven? It is needless to say that both boys were intrigued by their visitor, and that curiosity only grew when he quietly requested a seat.

"Where were you before?" Sirius asked suspiciously, not bothering to hide the fact that he was staring intensely at the scars on the boy's face.

"I was with some other first years," he explained, not meeting the eyes of James or Sirius, "But I didn't like what they were talking about. It was…mean."

"Oh…okay then," James cut in before Sirius could turn the boy away, as he was clearly considering doing, "My name's James. James Potter."

A small smile brightened the boy's features, and he introduced himself with more confidence than anything he had said previously.

"Remus Lupin."

James looked at Sirius giving his new ally (friend?) a silent request to be nice to Remus. A soft nod came from Sirius and he looked back over at Lupin, looking the boy in the eyes—rather than his scars—for the first time.

"Black. Sirius."

He seemed to brace himself for the reaction Lupin would have once he had told him his name, and sure enough, Remus's mouth made a small 'o' shape and he was suddenly nervous again. James cleared the seat next to him of sweet wrappers, Lupin sat down awkwardly. When you are particularly tall, as Remus was, but have a particularly small persona, as Remus did, everything you do seems a little awkward, and indeed all of Remus's actions made him appear as if he was trying desperately to shrink a few inches. It was almost as if his limbs weren't his own, as if there was another body somewhere that belonged to him.

Conversation in the compartment on the Hogwarts Express that was occupied by James Potter, Sirius Black and Remus Lupin had a variety of stages. One minute they were going through formalities ("I've heard of the Potters" and "Oh yes, my father knows of a Lyall Lupin") and then they were fantasising enthusiastically about what was ahead of them ("I want to fight a dragon" and "I want to watch you get killed by a dragon"), but it wasn't until all signs of modern civilisation seemed but a distant memory, in the eyes of three eleven-year-olds that is, that the one topic every first year knows is coming came up.

"I'm going to be in Gryffindor," James said after a few minutes silence. "The Potters are famous for it."

And they were. The house that favoured the brave had always been the house that called those of the Potter name. His father had told James countless stories about what happened in the Gryffindor common room and the fun he had in the dormitories. Fleamont wouldn't know what to so if his son wasn't accepted into the lion house. Mind you, it was pretty obvious that James was going to be in Gryffindor, as both of his parents often joked that some of his 'brave' (otherwise known as stupid) acts would make even Godric Gryffindor himself shake in fear.

"My dad was a Gryffindor, but my mum's a muggle, so I haven't really got a clue," Remus said, with an almost unnoticeable shrug.

They both looked over at Sirius, who suddenly couldn't seem to sit still, and waited for him to speak.

"Well, I think you both know where my lot usually go," he began, and both James and Remus nodded in affirmation, "But I don't know."

This shocked James to the core. All Blacks were in Slytherin. It was a known fact. He didn't think he had heard any stories of one going somewhere else. The surprise must have been evident on his face, as Sirius grinned.

"I know. Terrible, isn't it? I've always felt…different from them. My mother can see it, my father can see it, I can see it. I worry I'll give my parents heart attacks and end up somewhere other than Slytherin, and they'll never forgive me for that."

He shrugged and looked out the window, and for a moment James saw nothing but a little boy, but it was just a moment, and he would never tell Sirius that.

After a very awkward silence, Remus brought up a (much needed) change of subject, and with the houses temporarily forgotten, the boys looked happy once again.

Eventually, after what seemed like both forever and no time at all, a prefect with pristine uniform and an important look on her face knocked loudly on the compartment door.

"We're arriving in about five minutes, so you should start getting everything you want for the feast, otherwise known as not a lot, so you can get off the train quickly."

She excited the compartment as soon as she's finished speaking, not bothering to look nice or be polite.

"I guess we leave our stuff here then," Remus said, and both the other boys nodded calmly—they had both had step by step walkthroughs of what to do on their first day.

When the train pulled in, James was eager to be first off. So, he and Sirius (Remus decided to just stick as closely behind them as possible) elbowed their way through the hoards of teenagers until they jumped onto the platform. Crisp, fresh air inflated their lungs and the grins on the boys' faces were almost identical as they followed the voice calling first years over to the riverbank.

The adventure had begun.