To the student population of Hogwarts, the Mauraders represented what everyone wanted to be. They were smart, funny, popular. Their pranks, though not always appreciated, were legendary. Not everyone liked them, but everyone respected them. Even the teachers couldn't bring themselves to truly dislike the quick-witted and charming boys. They had fanclubs of girls following them around, hanging on their every word. James Potter, one of the ringleaders, had the added pull of being Quidditch Captain, and was Gryffindor's hero. In the eyes of many, they could do no harm, and everything they touched was golden.
But no one ever seemed to see beyond this shiny exterior, to the deeper foundations of the little group. No one ever seemed to see them for what they truly were-friends, loyal to eachother beyond measure. No one else knew the lengths they would go to for eachother. They only saw the pranks, the laughs, the endless stream of good-natured gibes. The boys' public image.
The students never saw the months of work James, Sirius and Peter put into discovering how to become animagus, risking their lives with extremely dangerous magic, just to support Remus in his monthly transformations.
They didn't see Sirius, the day he finally gave up and left his childhood home, unable to live with his family's prejudices anymore. They didn't see him turn up at James door, begging a bed for the night, only to find himself welcomed into a new family.
They never saw the nights James would sit and express his wish that Lily would say just one civil thing to him, that she could, for just one moment, see past the arrogant git she thought he was, while his fellow Mauraders listened dutifully, knowing their friend was truly falling in love.
They didn't see these, seemingly immature boys, support eachother through all the pains their young lives were faced with. The horrible night in seventh year when James was informed that his Auror parents had both been killed in a raid. And all Remus and Peter could do was sit with a distraught Sirius and inconsolable James, and offer comfort by their presence. The mornings when all the newspapers brought were tales of more disappearances, the rise of the Dark Lord, and the boys would exchange worried glances, wondering what the future held for them, if they would even all see it.
Nobody saw them pick eachother up, carry eachother, deal with the others problems. They would gladly take a hit for eachother, to insult one was to insult them all. None of them ever stood alone.
Yes, they had their glamorous outer image, full of confidence and fun. But nobody saw the bonds of brotherhood beneath-unbreakable bonds-or so they thought.