Summary: Professor McGonagall remembers the Gryffindor class of 1971 – 1978 quite well, but she remembers four better than the others. She reflects on those four, as well as the fate of the rest.

Well, I was originally going to make this a chapter thing with points of view from more teachers, but that idea kind of fell through, and this is the end result. I hope it isn't boring and I hope I receive reviews, no matter what's in them (hint hint).

The time frame is after the deaths of Lily and James, but before Harry arrives at Hogwarts…probably about five years after the Marauders' graduation. Also, remember that since this takes place so early, these people believe Peter Pettigrew is dead and Sirius Black is a traitor.

And one last thing – I've tried to stay as canon as possible, but to be thorough, I made up whatever I did not know and could not find. I hope it seems reasonable and I hope I got all my information right.

A Promising Generation

Being a professor at one of the most prestigious magic schools in Europe, I see my fair share of talent. Every few years there's that one student, that one that I know, I just know, is going to rise above the rest. He or she is usually dedicated, intelligent, and charismatic. Perfectly poised to go anywhere, do anything they wish with their life. It is rare that such an exceptional personality is found in not one, but four students in the same year, in the same house. It is a shame when such exceptional talent is wasted or destroyed.

I remember the class of 1978 quite well; after all, it was not that long ago. There was Anneliese O'Connell, Carly Abernathy, and Tabitha Waters. Alyssa McEntire and Peter Pettigrew. But the ones I remember most vividly are James Potter, Remus Lupin, Lily Evans, and Sirius Black.

If only we could have known the fate of this (for the most part) lovely group of people! We could never have known that a mere five years after they left school, four would be dead. One would abandon the side of the light to follow He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, while another would practically become a Death Eater by marrying into a family that knowingly supports him. Two more still would lose everything and everyone they held dear, turning them into shells of the people they once were. And the last would flee the country and never be heard from again.

I am the second staff member to greet the new students each year, after Hagrid. I meet them in the entrance room before the Great Hall and tell them how they are to be sorted. I remember, in 1971, looking at the faces before me and wondering which was Remus Lupin. The staff had been informed beforehand that a werewolf had been admitted to Hogwarts that year. I supported the admittance completely, and I felt such pity for the boy that he had to endure such a thing…but still I could not help but feel apprehensive. I could not help it, after being subjected to all the prejudice against werewolves my entire life.

But I am straying from the point. I walked into the high-ceilinged room and scanned the faces in front of me. There were thirty-eight children there, some looking awestruck, some looking casually nonchalant, most looking apprehensive. My eyes were immediately drawn to a small girl with red hair who was completely soaked. She was glaring at a short, black-haired boy with glasses a few feet away from her, and she was shivering.

I raised an eyebrow at her. "Hello, miss…?"

"Evans," she supplied. "Lily Evans." She kept her posture straight and looked me straight in the eye, and I was rather impressed at her refusal to be intimidated.

"Miss Evans. Would you care to explain your current state?" I asked.

"Well, someone pushed me in the lake, ma'am," she replied.

"I see." I assumed it was the black-haired boy, who was currently looking purposefully innocent. "Who was it? They should be punished accordingly." I expected her to automatically blame the boy, but she hesitated.

"I…It was dark," she said, "and I couldn't tell who it was."

I knew she was lying but did not bother to press further. If she did not want the culprit punished, so be it. Over the years I learned very well that Lily Evans, though she occasionally broke rules herself, did not ever tattle. When she became a Prefect and later, Head Girl, she sufficiently punished every rule breaker she herself caught, but she never tattled. I respected Lily Evans a great deal.

I glanced at the black-haired boy to find him gazing at the girl intently, his mouth slightly open. I should have known it was the beginning of something. From the very beginning, those two had something.

I nodded at Evans and went on to introduce myself and to describe the sorting and the houses. In the back of my mind I wondered if Evans, the black-haired boy, or Remus Lupin would end up in my house, Gryffindor. They all did.

Lily Evans was eventually one of my favorite students, though I was always careful never to show favoritism. She was always so eager to learn, so dedicated, and she would get so frustrated when she could not master something easily. She was also quick-witted; one could never get the last word in an argument or debate with Lily.

She had quite a temper, I could tell. Most of the time, it was directed at the unfortunate James Potter. But he never seemed to mind. He was almost as sharp-tongued as she, and oftentimes I would observe the two of them as they bickered in my classroom. I remember their first Transfiguration lesson. They entered the classroom arguing about something mundane, and they did not stop until the tardy bell rang and I began class.

The assignment was, as usual, to turn a matchstick into a needle. I was walking amongst the students, checking their progress, when I heard, "Professor! Professor, I did it!"

I walked to the speaker, James Potter. He had indeed managed the task. I was rather impressed – very rarely did someone manage this in the first few minutes of class! I would come to learn that James Potter was very gifted in Transfiguration. He had a passion for it. Maybe that is what set him apart: his passion. Of course, there were others who had excellent marks in my class, but none had the gift quite like James Potter. Which is probably why I harbored such a soft spot for him, all those years, troublemaker though he was.

"Indeed, Mr. Potter," I said. "Very good. Five points to Gryffindor." I showed the needle to the class, and as I gave it back to him I gave him the smallest of smiles.

I pretended not to notice the smug look James gave Lily, and the glare she returned. She concentrated even harder on her work after that. She was always determined to prove herself. Maybe it was because she was a Muggleborn, or maybe it was just her pride. Either way she always succeeded.

Sirius Black is so hard to talk about now, knowing what he is, what he became. I never would have guessed it, not in a million years, and neither would anyone else. Because when he was in school, he had it. Just it, that quality everyone loves and hates because they can't have it, that ability to be so charming, so charismatic, so mysterious. It includes an aversion to awkwardness or nervousness. Oh yes, Sirius Black undoubtedly had it.

He, like his best friend James Potter, was naturally intelligent and talented. The two could have done anything they put their minds to. Unfortunately, most of the time they put their minds to practical jokes.

I always encouraged Black to apply himself more. His grades were fantastic even with his mediocre effort, simply because he was brilliant. He was second in the class, after James. However, unlike James and Lily, Black never seemed to care if anyone noticed his accomplishments. He seemed to live only to satisfy himself. It was part of that quality he had that everyone envied – he cared not a bit what anyone thought of him. He would manage a spell for the first time, and instead of informing anyone, he would lean back in his chair with a satisfactory smirk.

Anyone who knew the integral workings of the pureblooded wizarding world knew of Black's family. The Noble and Most Ancient House of Black. He was expected – it was just taken for granted – that he would become a Slytherin. That he would join the ranks of his cousins and his parents and any other assorted relatives.

When Sirius Black was beginning first year, Voldemort was on the rise. His supporters were few and they were not regarded with such contempt as they were toward the end of the war. It was not known that Voldemort had such a thirst for power and dominance; people merely thought he was obsessed with the purity of blood, that he wanted to rid our world of Muggles and Muggleborns. People, mainly the old, pureblooded families, did not hesitate to declare support for the Dark Lord's motives. As such, it was well-known that the Blacks supported He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named and that they were, predominantly, Slytherin. Sirius Black was the exception to his family rule.

The moment he was placed in Gryffindor, whispers broke out in the Great Hall. Many of the older students knew who he was. A few Slytherins narrowed their eyes at him as he blinked – once – twice. He showed a flicker of surprise and something else – relief, disgust, apprehension? It was impossible to tell – before carefully masking his face once again and taking a seat at the Gryffindor table, next to the black-haired boy I had almost become acquainted with earlier. I resolved to keep a close eye on Black.

And as it turned out, he definitely needed to be watched, but not because he was prone to cursing Muggleborns. Sirius Black turned out to be a troublemaker, a prankster, who, along with James Potter, Remus Lupin, and Peter Pettigrew, probably earned more detentions throughout school than any other student I had ever seen. True, Sirius Black did not seek to impress anyone, but he was not shy and he possessed a marvelous sense of humor.

However, this did not mean he could not be, well, serious. He was involved in several violent duels over the years. There was Bellatrix Black, in his third year. She was his cousin, a fifth year, but despite the age difference they both ended up in the hospital wing.

Then there was his own brother, Regulus, who was a Slytherin two years younger than Sirius. Sirius was sixteen when that duel took place, and he soundly defeated his younger sibling. I took eighty points from Gryffindor when I discovered them. To me, it was such a serious offense, to seek to harm one's own family member like that. But later records indicated Regulus' spells were much more harmful than Sirius'.

Later that day as I was making my way to my office, I saw Sirius Black just sitting against a wall in a corridor, his forehead on his knees, looking more defeated than I had ever seen him look or would ever see him look again.

He looked troubled, and I felt compelled to speak to him. He was, after all, a member of my house. I walked toward him and said quietly, "There are only ten minutes until curfew, Mr. Black. Do try not to stay here too long."

He lifted his head and looked at me. "Yes, Professor," he said.

I nodded at him, almost sympathetically. I knew his housemates would not be happy with him for losing all the points he had lost, but he didn't even seem to care about that. As I turned and began to walk away his voice stopped me.

"I moved out of my house, you know," he said. I had not known that, actually. "They were wrong. About-" he swallowed. "About everything. And I thought maybe I could – maybe Regulus wouldn't – maybe he'd realize-"

He broke off for a few seconds.

"But I was wrong and it's…it's too late. I get that now. I do."

I got angry in that moment. Angry at the war, angry at – at Voldemort. This boy was still young and he was being forced to grow up quickly, forced to face problems no boy his age should have to face.

"Sometime, Sirius," I told him softly (he looked up again, startled, at the use of his first name), "we all must realize that people make their own decisions. Sometimes they are the wrong ones. And there's often nothing we can do other than watch those decisions…run their course."

He nodded slowly at me and I gave him a slight nod in return before continuing to my office.

Of course there were also a few nasty encounters with Severus Snape. During these, James Potter was usually at Black's side. Those two hated Snape more than I thought possible – it seemed to go beyond normal schoolboy animosity.

I suppose the only clue I ever had of Black's true colors was in his sixth year. Being good friends with Remus Lupin, Black and Potter knew his secret – that is, his lycanthropy. Snape, although he was an outcast, was not stupid. He knew something was amiss about Lupin. I did not witness any of this incident and I was absolutely shocked when it was brought to my attention afterward – I am, after all, in charge of disciplining the Gryffindors – but Black told Snape to go to the passageway hidden under the Whomping Willow during a full moon, fully knowing what awaited him there.

Snape is only alive today because of James Potter.

And it made everyone realize that as smart as Black was, he was also incredibly rash. He did not think about his actions before he performed them. He did not think about the consequences, the repercussions of whatever he did on him – his friends – his enemies. I remember hoping it was just a phase he was going through. After all, rashness is not a desirable quality in the middle of a war. If he was to survive, he needed to change.

James Potter's talent was evident and encouraged by all his teachers. Lily Evans' talent was also apparent. Sirius Black's talent was understated and underestimated. And Remus Lupin's talent was, in all likelihood, going to be wasted, all because of his condition.

Not many jobs were open to him. Not many people would have been open to him, if they had known what he was. Except Black, Potter, and Pettigrew, of course. They were his closest friends and, as far as I could see, the only people he opened up to. As I have said, they knew he was a werewolf. I doubt he could have hidden it from Potter and Black if he tried.

Lupin was intelligent, to be sure. I do not think his grades came as easily to him as they did to Potter and Black, but he would not have gotten the grades at all if he were not intelligent. And he also had to work harder than anyone to catch up because he missed class so often.

But what really set Remus Lupin apart was not his grades, which were, to be honest, on the high side but still fairly average. We see plenty of smart young people at Hogwarts. It was the combination of his charming yet introverted personality and his interest in learning new things.

Notice that when I say interest, I do not mean his interest in what I was teaching. Oftentimes he would walk into class with his nose in a book about something totally unrelated, such as former ministers of magic, and he would be so engrossed in whatever he was reading that I would have to clear my throat and look at him pointedly before he would close the book. And I never found that he was interested in any one subject more than the others, because one lesson he would be reading something related to history, the next, Quidditch; the next, Herbology; the next, Australia…

Also, as I said, he was charming. Not as openly charming as Potter, but one could not help but like Remus Lupin. I was never apprehensive in his presence once I began to teach him and discovered his mannerisms. Even knowing what he was, it was so hard to connect the timid, friendly young man with a bloodthirsty animal. There was nothing to fear about him.

I never felt more sympathy for him than I did on the day in his fifth year, when he came to me for his scheduled career counseling. He came in right on time and I started off by saying to him, "Well, you know why you are here, Mr. Lupin. Do you know what career choices you might like to pursue after leaving Hogwarts?"

"Look, Professor," he said with a sad smile, "I appreciate what you're trying to do here, I really do. But we both know it's just – it's not-"

"Nonsense, Mr. Lupin," I replied. "You are a talented young man. Your options are-"

"-are incredibly limited," he finished. "Don't worry about it, Professor, I've…I've accepted it. I would just like for us to be realistic. What are my options?"

I was a bit surprised by his attitude but managed to hide it, for the most part. The maturity he was showing should not have astonished me as much as it did…even being a 'marauder', as they called themselves, he had never proven himself to be childish.

"Well, I would urge you to open your own business or somehow go about changing the laws of the ministry. You could make great progress there if you tried, I'm sure," I told him.

"Yes," he said, "while I'm sure the laws were made with…good intentions, they are a little behind the times, aren't they? I'm just not sure I'm the right person to go about…well…fixing that." Confidence was never one of Remus Lupin's strong attributes.

"I suppose we'll see," I said cryptically. "Mr. Lupin, if you do not mind me asking, let us disregard your condition for a moment. I am a bit curious as to what you would be looking into, were you not prohibited from certain…activities."

He looked surprised. "I've never really let myself consider it," he said. "I enjoy Ancient Runes, I suppose…maybe a Curse Breaker? But honestly, more than that I like the feeling of tutoring. Helping people understand things, you know? I tutor some of the second years on Wednesdays…"

I raised an eyebrow at him. "You wish to be a tutor?"

"Not really," he said, seeming a tad embarrassed. "I was thinking more along the lines of…teaching. Yeah. I think I'd like that."

"I see." I surveyed him over my glasses. "You would make an excellent teacher, I'm sure, Remus."

"Thank you, Professor. Means a lot, coming from you."

As I said, one could not help but like Remus Lupin.

But after they left Hogwarts, things went wrong, terribly wrong.

Lily and James were married soon after graduation. They actively joined the fight against He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. They were killed protecting their son, Harry – but of course, everyone knows their story now. Everyone knows the story of Harry Potter.

Sirius Black became a traitor, giving away the location of the Potters and killing Peter Pettigrew, along with twelve others.

Remus Lupin first lost his mother to the war and his father to grief and sickness before losing all of his best friends in one night. I last saw him at the funeral of the Potters almost two years ago, and the look on his face was heartbreaking. I have not heard from him, nor have I heard of his whereabouts, since.

And what of the other Gryffindors of the same age?

Tabitha Waters fled the country with her family to escape the war. I believe they went to America.

Alyssa McEntire married into the Nott family, which practically ensured she would not be targeted by Death Eaters, and was one step from openly declaring allegiance to He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named; the Notts were a pureblooded family as notorious as the Blacks in support of him.

Anneliese O'Connell went shopping one day and came home to find the Dark Mark over her house. Her two brothers and her parents had been killed. I have not heard from her since and suspect she left the country as well.

Carly Abernathy was a Muggleborn witch. She was training to be a Healer until she was murdered, along with her roommate.

So be the horrors of war.

But I, for one, will never forget those exceptional people. I am positive that, had they been given the chance…they would have gone on to do great things. After all, it was such a promising generation. And now that this war is over (for how long, I do not know, it won't be forever) I believe one of the most important things is that people be given the chance to reach their potential. Now, without the threat of He-Who…of…of Voldemort, it is more likely. Unfortunately, some will never be given that chance again.

Sorry if the ending was a little abrupt or…whatever. I'm not too happy with it, but it'll have to do. I tried my best to get the characters as right as I could. I'd really appreciate your thoughts and comments!