Disclaimer: Any characters that appear in the Harry Potter books are owned by J.K.Rowling. I may make up some characters later on, but I don't know yet.
A/N: Please tell me if you like this. Also tell me if you don't, but politely (key word *politely*). Just remember—if you like the series enough, there's no such thing as bad fanfiction, right? **Dodges rotten tomato, pulls out cane and starts to dance.** "There's no fiction like fanfiction, there's no fiction I know..." **Doesn't dodge fast enough this time and stands there dripping for a moment.** Anyway...just to give you an idea of what I'm doing here, this isn't really one story, it's more like one theme. Each chapter will be about a key component in the Marauders' lives, first at school and then later on as adults. I rated it PG as kind of a general thing because there'll probably be violence and maybe mild romance and language. But I promise, it will be clean! I also tried to give Peter the Evil an equal part, but I think I failed miserably. Oh well, what a tragedy. So...here goes. (Gulp.)
The Friendship
As the Hogwarts Express pulled out of Platform Nine and Three-Quarters, Remus Lupin leaned out of the window to wave goodbye once more to his mother. The platform disappeared into the distance and he settled into his seat for a long, boring ride.
Then a tall, dark-haired boy burst into the compartment and, though Remus didn't know it at the time, his life would never be the same again.
The boy hurtled in, stopped inside the door and looked around as if checking for spies. Then he grinned at Remus. "Okay if I sit here for a while?"
Remus nodded dumbly as the boy entered and closed the door behind him. Sitting down across from Remus, he said, "I'm Sirius Black, by the way. You?"
"Remus Lupin. Pleased to meet you, Sirius...I guess." He watched in astonishment as Sirius rooted through the stuff Remus had just deposited on the seat and pulled out his packet of peanut butter sandwiches.
"Do you mind?" Without waiting for an answer, Sirius took a bite. "Mmmf. Thith ith good." He chewed thoughtfully and swallowed.
Remus wasn't quite sure where to begin with his questions. "Why are you—"
"*There* you are, you git!" He had been interrupted by another sudden entrance by a complete stranger. The new boy's black hair stuck up in all directions and his brown eyes flashed angrily behind his glasses as he advanced on Sirius. "You give me back my brownies!"
"Brownies?" Sirius inquired innocently through a mouthful of Remus's sandwich. He spread his hands to indicate total lack of brownies or knowledge thereof. The other boy wasn't buying it, though. He continued to fume.
"You've been taking food from kids all over the train!" Sirius gave him a shocked, hurt look while hiding the remains of the peanut butter sandwiches. At this point, Remus felt it was best to take the situation into his own hands. Feeling like he was facing an angry dragon, he stepped between the two.
The owner of the alleged brownies seemed to notice him for the first time. He tried to push Remus aside, but he stood his ground. He sighed. "Hi, I'm James Potter and I'm glad to meet you, whoever you are, now will you *please* get out the way so I can teach this jerk a lesson?"
"Not until you tell me why you're going to kill him over brownies," Remus said firmly. [And why this is happening in *my* compartment,] he added silently, wondering why all the most insane things seemed to happen to him.
To his surprise, James looked slightly embarrassed. He struggled manfully to retain his dignity for a few seconds, then gave in. "Well, if you must know, they came from someone...er...special at my old school, if you catch my drift."
This new information deterred Sirius not at all. "Well, next time you see her you can tell her I said they were excellent. Mmm, I tell you, those brownies sure did hit the spot." Before Remus could stop him, James had launched himself at Sirius with a fresh roar of rage.
Remus had never tried to break up a fight before and wasn't sure what he ought to do. From the looks of it, Sirius was having great fun and seemed to need no help whatsoever. But, he decided, the noise would probably carry to nearby compartments and get them all in trouble. [All right, Remus. Just go on over and separate them. I mean, it can't be that hard, can it?]
"Um, guys..." Remus got as close as he dared to the combatants. Sirius grinned at him, face flushed with excitement and exertion. James paused for a moment, letting go of Sirius's throat. Remus decided to press on while he had their attention. "You know, I hate to interrupt, but you could get in trouble for this."
"And your point is?" Sirius prompted.
Remus rolled his eyes. "I don't know about you two, but the last thing *I* want to do is get in trouble before I even get to school."
James reluctantly got up and roughly pulled Sirius to his feet. "I guess you're right. My mom would probably send me a Howler first thing tomorrow if she found out." He straightened his glasses and tried futilely to smooth down his hair.
Sirius looked confused. "A what?"
"You don't know about Howlers?" James raised an eyebrow at him. "Ohh, you must be Muggle-born then, right?" Sirius nodded assent and Remus told him, "Hopefully you'll never find out what a Howler is. My big brother got one once from his old girlfriend and it was terrible." He smiled, savoring the memory. Romulus had gotten in deep trouble when their parents found he had been sneaking out to meet Cordelia every other weekend.
"Oh, by the way, I don't think we've met," Sirius said pleasantly to James. "I'm Sirius Black." He extended his hand. James eyed it warily for a moment before reciprocating. Remus took the opportunity to introduce himself as well, and they shook hands all around.
Just as they were finished moving Remus's junk so they could all sit down, the door opened again. A small, rather chubby boy entered timidly. They looked at each other for a few seconds. At last he spoke up. "Hi, my name's Peter Pettigrew, can I sit in here for a while?"
"Only if you don't have any brownies," blurted Remus. James and Sirius fell over laughing. Peter looked at them like they were maniacs.
*****
That evening, the four boys were not in a remotely good mood. Having arrived at Hogwarts without any more brownie incidents and survived the rowboat trip across the lake (narrowly, in Sirius's case), their Chocolate Frog sugar rush had long since worn off and fear of the Sorting Ceremony was kicking in.
James shivered a little, looking around the enormous entrance hall. "Kinda big, isn't it?" he remarked, at a loss for any intelligent comment.
Sirius snorted. "Thank you, Captain Obvious," he muttered. He wasn't about to admit he was scared stiff of the Ceremony, but he certainly wasn't enjoying the wait. His eyes roved around, looking for something to distract him from the scenes playing out in his head, the ones in which he was sent packing because he wasn't good enough to be in any of the houses.
Remus waited for his fate silently. He, too, had doubts about his future. [What if something goes wrong? What if none of the houses will take me because I'm…because I'm different? Dumbledore said it would be all right...but what if I fail?] Wondering how he could possibly ever fit in here, Remus shifted position uncomfortably, clothes still soaking wet from Sirius's attempt to feed the giant squid.
Peter felt much the same apprehension as the others, but it was compounded by a remark from his dreaded Great-Aunt Sophie that kept ringing in his head. Sophie was somewhat deaf and often talked about people as if they weren't in the room. On one occasion she had remarked to his father, "That young Peter probably won't amount to much. Already has that cowed look about him. Bad posture, that one."
[Won't amount to much.]
[Won't amount to much.]
The words stung as if he had heard them only yesterday. Silently, Peter vowed that he would show her. He would do well at Hogwarts. He would show all the Sophies in the world that he mattered after all.
Everyone's reveries were interrupted by the entrance of Professor Dworkin, a dark, spindly beanpole of a man who had let them in several minutes before. "The Ceremony will now begin," he proclaimed importantly to the assembled first-years. "Please follow me quietly and—" He broke off to glare at Sirius, who was whispering something to James. Remus poked them and they lapsed into a guilty silence.
As they marched toward the Great Hall, Remus started to hum some sinister, death-march type music under his breath. James bit back a chuckle, but Sirius wasn't in a laughing mood. "Cut it out, Remus," he muttered. Remus raised an eyebrow, but at least he quit humming.
There was a collective gasp as the first-years entered the Great Hall. Open-mouthed, they stared from the twilight ceiling to the four packed tables before them. A few kids waved nervously to older siblings in the crowd, while others froze at the sight of so many people all watching them.
Dworkin appeared again, his thin form staggering under the weight of a stool and an ancient, disreputable wizard's hat. Remus frowned. He hadn't imagined any sort of trial involving a hat. [I'm gonna kill Romulus for not telling me about this,] Remus vowed, wondering what horrors could be in store for him and his new friends.
"The Sorting will commence," Dworkin announced in his reedy voice. "Please step forward when I call your name, sit on the stool, and put on the Sorting Hat." Astounded, Remus turned to Sirius. He looked just as surprised at the fearsome task set before them.
Just as Remus was starting to wonder when Dworkin would start reading names, the hat moved. He jumped in surprise as a large rip in the hat opened wide like a mouth, and the hat began to sing.
"The Sorting is a noble task, and trusted to but one;
You'll all be sorted in your houses by the time I'm done.
The houses were established by great wizards long ago;
They all have different standards, and your character they'll show.
The first of these is Gryffindor, a noble house and true,
If you possess great courage, this house was made for you.
The second house is Ravenclaw, where dwell those great in mind;
Though geniuses are very rare, they're easy here to find.
Hufflepuff's another house in which you might belong;
Persistence is its credo, and its loyalty is strong.
The final house is Slytherin, where great success may dwell;
Ambition is a requisite and often serves you well.
So have no fears of where you'll stand whene'er my task is through;
For I give you my solemn word, I'll do my best by you."
"Wow," Sirius muttered as the hat wound up its performance and the hall broke into applause. "That was impressive. Gryffindor sounds best, don't you think?" Remus shrugged noncommittally, inwardly thinking that he'd be happy to end up anywhere but Slytherin. Still, he hoped he'd be wherever his new friends were.
Then Dworkin stepped forward with a list of names and cleared his throat. "If this is in alphabetical order, I'm going to scream," Sirius grumbled to Remus, who smiled sympathetically, then turned his attention to the hat again.
"Ahem. Allen, Gregory." A short dark-haired boy advanced nervously and took a seat on the stool. The hat sat on his head for a few seconds before shouting, "RAVENCLAW!" to the assembly. One of the tables burst into applause as Gregory, beaming, leaped off the stool and hurried to join his new house.
"Oh, no," Sirius whispered, going ashen. "I think I'm next."
Sure enough—"Black, Sirius." [Come on, Sirius,] Remus thought encouragingly, clenching his fists as Sirius put on the hat. He closed his eyes as if concentrating, and after a pause the hat cried, "GRYFFINDOR!" Sirius grinned with relief and went to join the noisiest table in the Hall. [Should fit right in,] Remus thought with some amusement, watching Sirius trade high-fives with complete strangers.
[Now if I can do as well...] Remus tuned out most of the names, but he remembered most of the new Gryffindors because Sirius yelled so loudly. There was Lily Evans, a tall, skinny redhead. Then twins, Dara and Demi Hart, both brunettes.
"Jorkins, Bertha." A small girl with mousy-brown hair stepped forward and was sorted into Hufflepuff. Remus felt a knot form in his stomach. Any minute now...
"Longbottom, Frank." Remus gave a nervous good-luck smile to the gangly boy. "GRYFFINDOR!" the hat roared. [Please, please, please...] "Lupin, Remus." Remus felt his legs turn to jelly. Stumbling to the stool, he tremblingly put on the Sorting Hat.
Now let's see...Oh, we *are* nervous, aren't we? Hmm...veeerrry interesting.
[Please, anywhere but Slytherin,] Remus pleaded fervently. [Ravenclaw sounds nice. Or Gryffindor. Just not Slytherin.]
There's the intelligence...and the courage too. For you, I think the best choice is... "GRYFFINDOR!" Shaking slightly, Remus removed the hat. He tottered unsteadily to the empty seat beside Sirius, who was deafening everyone within twenty feet. "All right, Remus!" he yelled, slapping him on the back so hard Remus was sure his shoulders would be sore tomorrow.
They finally quieted down enough to hear "Malfoy, Lucius" sorted as a Slytherin. "Big surprise there," Remus remarked to Sirius.
"Why?" he asked curiously, staring at Malfoy.
"Sarcasm, Sirius," said Remus patiently. "His family's been bad for generations. All in Slytherin."
"Shh," Sirius commanded suddenly. "They'll be sorting Peter and James any second now." As they waited, "O'Rourke, Molly," a rather plump girl with a ponytail of flaming red hair, was made a Gryffindor as well.
Finally: "Pettigrew, Peter." Looking as nervous as Remus had felt a few minutes before, Peter almost fell off the stool. Remus gave him a friendly wave and crossed his fingers under the table for luck. A moment passed before the hat shouted, "GRYFFINDOR!"
Peter practically ran to the Gryffindor table and collapsed into a chair across from Remus. They watched avidly as Dworkin read, "Potter, James." James tried to look confident as he strode to the stool, but Remus looked closely and saw his hands shaking as he jammed the hat on his head. [Gryffindor, Gryffindor,] Remus begged, trying to influence the hat subliminally. Sure enough: "GRYFFINDOR!" the hat yelled, apparently to James's immense relief.
Remus uncrossed his fingers as James joined them. "That's all of us!" James said excitedly, taking the seat next to Peter. A minute later "Quirrell, Quentin," joined the Gryffindor ranks as well.
Remus didn't listen to the rest of the ceremony. Having been sorted, he wanted to get on with the feast. Apparently Sirius did as well, because he looked as if he was going to start banging his utensils on the table. Thankfully, Professor Dumbledore stood up at that moment and cleared his throat.
"So another wonderful year at Hogwarts begins," he commented. "I am looking forward to getting to know all our new students. Before we begin our feast, I have a few announcements. First, only third year students and up are allowed to visit Hogsmeade, a fact that a few second years should keep in mind."
The redheaded boy seated at Sirius's left blushed slightly. "Oh, did you try to get in?" Sirius asked interestedly. "Will you teach me how?"
"Sorry, I can't," said the second year apologetically. "My mum almost took me out of school for that one." He introduced himself as Arthur Weasley, and it looked like the start of an interesting conversation as he and Sirius swapped stories of pranks in an undertone. Oblivious, Dumbledore continued with his speech.
"Also, Mr. Filch, our caretaker, has requested strongly that whoever kept leaving Cat Nips around the castle last year would not do a repeat performance. As many of you may recall, his cat Mrs. Norris had one affixed to her tender nose for an entire week last February."
"Serves her right," muttered Remus to James. "Romulus says that cat was around when he came here. He swears it's satanic."
"And now," said Dumbledore cheerfully, "let the feast begin!" He clapped his hands.
Remus enjoyed Sirius's gasp of astonishment as the food suddenly appeared on the table. This, at least, he knew about from his brother. Eagerly, he reached for his silverware—
"Lupin! Wait!" He looked up to see the young Transfiguration teacher, McGonagall, rushing down the table toward him, holding another set of utensils. "The headmaster said to give these to you instead," she said, stopping somewhat breathlessly next to him. "They're stainless steel. You're responsible for remembering to bring them to every meal." She bent over and collected what he now realized were real silver utensils from his place. Giving the rest of them a quick smile, she swept back to the high table.
"That was close," Remus murmured, looking at his hands. He had gotten a silver burn once and been in bed for a week. Peter, James, and Sirius were staring at him curiously. "What was that?" asked Sirius finally.
"I'm allergic to silver," Remus explained with an embarrassed smile. James frowned.
"That's a bummer," he said sympathetically. [You don't know the half of it,] Remus thought regretfully. But he quickly forgot about his troubles in the presence of such a feast and dug in heartily.
"Hey Sirius, do you like liver?" he asked, noticing that Sirius hadn't touched the dish. Actually Remus never tasted the stuff either if he could help it, but he figured Sirius probably needed to be repaid for the potion Remus had seen him slip into Frank Longbottom's fortunately untouched pumpkin juice.
Sirius looked doubtfully at the stuff. "I've never tried it," he replied warily. "What's it like?"
"Wonderful stuff," Remus lied. "Isn't it, James?" James looked up, startled. "Huh?"
"Never mind, James. Here, Sirius, try some." Remus ladled a generous portion onto his plate and settled back to watch the fun.
*****
Stuffed to bursting after the feast, Remus, Sirius, James, and Peter joined the herd heading to the Gryffindor common room. The prefect at the head of the line called, "Now pay close attention and remember the password." Turning to a portrait of a very plump woman, she said loud enough for them all to hear, "Oculus Ranae." The portrait swung open, revealing a comfortable-looking room dotted with soft armchairs and tables. The prefect climbed through the portrait hole, beckoning them to follow.
Remus, looking around, had a strange feeling that he was coming home.
"Girls' dormitories to the left, boys' to the right," the prefect was saying in a businesslike manner. "Your trunks have already been taken up to your rooms."
The boys climbed a long spiral staircase until they reached their six-person dormitory. Exhausted, they undressed and fell into their four-poster beds at once.
Just before he drew the hangings around himself, Remus murmured, "G'night, everybody." Five equally sleepy voices answered. Comforted by the presence of new friends and the hope of a normal life at last, Remus Lupin slept.
=====
Sirius Black's motorcycle roared over the roof of Peter Pettigrew's house and landed, demolishing his rosebushes. Sirius dismounted and surveyed the damage.
"Oh well, they needed pruning anyway," he muttered, shrugging as he headed for the front door. No lights were on. Sirius felt a little nervous. He rang the doorbell and waited for a few minutes, then rang it again. When there was no answer, his heart started to pound.
[Calm down, Sirius. He's probably just in the shower or...] Sirius didn't want to finish that thought because of the dread that was filling him. [Or...Voldemort found out and tried to get him to spill the beans and he's dead...or worse.]
Sirius wished he hadn't just finished that thought.
[He should be here, though!] he argued as he made for the back door, breaking into a run. [Peter *knew* I was coming tonight to check on him. Why isn't he answering?] Sirius skidded to a stop by the door and tried it. Locked again. Feeling the beginnings of panic fluttering in his chest, he hurried to the kitchen window. It slid open smoothly, and he quickly squeezed inside, not bothering to close it behind him.
"Peter!" he shouted into the dim silence. There was no reply. Shivering suddenly, Sirius left the kitchen and cautiously entered the hallway, hoping against hope that this would turn out to be a sick joke. [But Peter wouldn't joke about this, would he?]
Sirius searched the house thoroughly, his spirits sinking more with each empty room he passed through. What puzzled him about the whole thing was that there was nothing to indicate a struggle. No blasted furniture, no broken windows, nothing. Even Peter's glass animal collection had miraculously remained intact.
[There's something rotten in the state of Denmark,] Sirius decided, returning to the disappointingly pristine living room. He sank into an overstuffed chair and tried to narrow down the possibilities. If Peter would have been there ordinarily and there was no sign of a fight, then...
Peter must have left voluntarily. Was that possible? He and James had been so sure that Remus was the one not to be trusted. Had they been too hasty in their judgment?
Either way, Sirius knew what to do next. He got up swiftly, unlocked the front door, and left. As his motorcycle roared up into the night sky, Sirius had but one thought: He had to get to the Potters' house before it was too late.
*****
Sirius's first thought was that he must have the wrong house. That burned-out shell couldn't possibly be the house he had visited so often...could it?
Then it hit him—Peter's disappearance, now this. [Oh no, no, no, please!] he begged. [Not this. Anything but this. Not James and Lily...]
He landed at an insane speed, all personal risk forgotten. As he jumped off the motorcycle and raced for the house, he could make out an enormous, hulking shape amid the ruins, tenderly cradling something small.
"Hagrid!" he panted, coming to a halt by the giant man. "Thank goodness you're here. Are they—are they—" Sirius couldn't finish his sentence, but Hagrid understood his question.
He swallowed hard, dabbing at his eyes with a gargantuan spotted handkerchief. "Yeh, they're gone," he said at last in a tear-choked voice. "I got here too late to save James an' Lily, but I found the little tyke here in the wreckage. Gonna bring him to Dumbledore so he can decide what to do with little Harry here." He indicated the bundle in his arms.
Sirius leaned closer, feeling his own eyes fill with tears as he gently took the infant from Hagrid. "Poor Harry," he murmured, holding his godson close and thinking of his mother and father. "You'll never know your parents. But at least you lived." He looked up at Hagrid, suddenly getting an idea. "Let me take him with me, Hagrid. I'm his godfather, I'll take care of him."
Hagrid looked sympathetic, but shook his shaggy head firmly. "Sorry, Sirius. Dumbledore wants him ter live with his relatives. I gotta take him there right away."
"His relatives!" Sirius exclaimed, aghast. "You can't mean the *Dursleys!* Oh no, you can't do that to him. Now I insist. Believe me, I can give him a better home. I'll be a very responsible father. In fact, I'll—"
Putting out a giant hand to stop Sirius's string of protests, Hagrid said gruffly, "'Fraid not, Sirius. I'm sure you can come ter visit him sometimes, but fer now he stays with Lily's sister." Sirius let him take Harry from his arms then, feeling it would be useless to argue any more. At least visits were better than nothing. He felt so numb at the moment that he didn't want to think about James and Lily, lying dead in the blasted remains of their home. He didn't want to think about Peter's house, untouched and empty.
Hagrid put a comforting arm around his shoulders, knocking the wind out of him. "It's a terrible thing ter happen ter such good people," he said solemnly, "but they died bravely. The wizardin' world will remember 'em forever."
"Yes, they died well," Sirius replied bleakly. [I never thought I'd use the words 'died' and 'well' together about my best friend.]
"Guess I'd best be goin' on my way," said Hagrid, looking as though he wanted to get away before Sirius had a nervous breakdown. Sirius watched him turn away, starting to stride through the wreckage of the Potters' house.
"Wait a minute, Hagrid," he called suddenly. "Surrey's a long way to go, especially with Harry to watch out for." He swallowed. "Tell you what. You can take my motorcycle, it'll get you there a lot quicker. Besides, I don't think I'll be needing it anymore." Absurdly, he felt a lump in his throat as he ran his hand over the chrome handlebars. But it was true that he would probably never ride it again. James had given him the motorcycle for his twentieth birthday, and he would never be able to look at it without thinking of him.
Giving him a penetrating look, Hagrid crossed to him and swung one leg over the seat. "Yeh sure about this?" Sirius nodded resolutely. "All right then, g'night—" Perhaps realizing how absurd it was to be wishing Sirius a good night, Hagrid broke off and rose into the air. Sirius watched the motorcycle as long as he could see it in the dark, waving goodbye and good luck to its precious burden, the boy who lived.
A/N: Well, that was long. And if you thought it was long, think how I felt writing it! That'll probably be the longest chapter, unless I am possessed by my Muse. Actually, it would have been much shorter, but I realized that if I was going to do their first night at Hogwarts, I'd have to do the Sorting, and that means...the Sorting Song. Unless I wanted to cheat and just write 'The Sorting Hat sang a song,' which would have looked really stupid. So even though it was almost midnight and lights-out was at eleven, I spent another half-hour writing. Such devotion deserves good reviews! Also, the name Dworkin isn't mine—I got it from a Roger Zelazny book. Sorry, Roger.
