Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. J. K. Rowling is the sole (and always will be) owner of the series.
A/N: I know, I know, I probably should be ashamed that I had even started this. It's been done before, and my creativity span is miniscule compared to others'. But I'm trying out different styles of writing, and I probably won't be successful on this, but who knows? Enjoy now!
The Rise and Fall of a Marauder
Chapter One: Meeting the Marauders
Today was the day. He'd been waiting for this….ever since he could remember. It was going to be the most important and exciting day of his entire ten years. Hogwarts was the best wizarding school in all of England. Wait, he thought, there's no other school in Britain that's for Wizardry!
Between the rapid shaking that Kreacher was giving him, and the shrill screaming from downstairs that he was getting from his mother, he smiled to himself and suddenly….head butt! Kreacher was knocked to the ground.
Sirius chuckled to himself. He had mastered this technique over the last few months. It was all in the angle he did so. He had observed Kreacher from afar for a while, and found in various lashings inflicted to him by his father or himself, that the areas near his ears were rather vulnerable, as he would cry out more often when pain was administered there.
Sirius had despised Kreacher from the moment he was made Head House Elf until now, which had been…..all Sirius's life. He was destined to be enemies with him, it was premeditated for him. They were almost arch-rivals. Except Sirius was superior to him, and he was not about to waste his time picking on a house elf. Plus, he had other adversaries to worry about.
Like Marlene McKinnon. The next-door neighbors' only daughter and ultimate snob. She was out to get Sirius ever since he had put Wartcap powder in her bedroom when sneaking in there at her family's housewarming he had been invited to. It was just a silly joke; he still thought to himself, she can't even take silly jokes.
But the girl still insisted that it had done damage to her naturally beautiful hands, and that they would never be the same, with or without magic. Girls, he thought, they will never understand.
Anyway, she had always tattled on him whenever he went out on his adventures (various trips to the other next-door neighbor's backyard, terrorizing the nifflers they were experimenting with, many more) and would always be rewarded by his mother with a few Sickles. Sickles for telling on him! It was as if his mother lived to punish him. But he wasn't even going to begin to think about her.
And the worst thing about Marlene: each time she got a Sickle, she would stick her tongue out at him. The most immature, callow thing he had ever been forced to watch, and this was him saying that. Being lashed by Kreacher of all house elves was not fun; never mind having to see her get away with her nasty girly habits. All he wanted to do was ruin her dress she always went on about to her other girlfriends.
But anyway, today he would get away from all of that. Well, most of it anyway. He wouldn't let Marlene get in his way at Hogwarts. He would simply be in another house, that's all. And if worse came to worse, he could always play some pranks on her. He always did anyway. Like that time when he put half of his stash of dungbombs (which, we'll just say Sirius was one who was an avid collector of dungbombs and had enough to make the whole neighborhood reek of dung for many weeks) in her clothes closet. If he knew one thing that she loved more than money, it was clothes. And oh, he could smell the stench to this day. Revenge was sweet, especially in the shape and essence of dung.
Today was going to go okay for him. No more Regulus being the one to be kiss-up to his mother, no more Kreacher, and finally, just finally, he would be able to do magic.
Oh, the exhilaration he would have with his wand. He had just bought it yesterday—but when his mother caught him looking at it too much with the slightest hint of a smile on his face, she took it away. But he would show her. He would do well at Hogwarts, and still have time to prank his enemies.
He had been halfway through breakfast of scrambled eggs and toast with a nasty acid-like beverage of orange juice, his least favorite breakfast of all time. It had certainly been his mother and Kreacher both together on this, just for his enjoyment. But all of the various thoughts had been running through his head by the time he had choked down his toast.
"My young Sirius—why are you eating like a wildebeest?" His mother's sour-sweet voice had become stronger with each step she had taken toward him. He wanted to get over his breakfast and get upstairs to finish his packing—something that you would rarely catch him doing, but then again, if you had been waiting eleven years to get out of the capitol of Evil, then you would also be running around making the necessary preparations to escape.
"Oh, it's a new technique I found in your magazine, what is it called again? Oh, Witch Weekly. Speed eating helps your intelligence." Sirius quickly lied, but the anticipation and his extreme frustration with the woman had overcome him after being so long kept in.
"Well, I want to leave promptly in a half-an-hour, as I have a few things to take care of before going to that Muggle development." Sirius looked at the antique clock on the wall. It was nine-thirty. Ugh. Putting up with a whole half-hour with her before being seen onto the Hogwarts Express was too much to require of him. That was just like asking someone with both arms broken and a sprained ankle to break dance, or whatever those Muggles did.
"I really should talk to Dumbledore about having that train go there; it really is such a nuisance. Maybe a few Galleons and a talk from your father will convince him….." She walked slowly away, still muttering to herself, as if Sirius wasn't there. Sirius disregarded it. The woman was out-of-order as far as he was concerned. No use in trying to change her.
A half an hour later, he was being dragged around by his mother to the local Dark Arts shop, or as she referred to, "that nice little shop by the end of the avenue." She claimed to be picking up "a few repairs and a gift for Doris, that sweet woman you met the other day," but Sirius knew better. He didn't want to know what they were, so he just stood outside the shop, taking in his surroundings.
Just a half an hour, and I'm home-free, he told himself. A minute later, she was out the door with what looked like nothing. He knew that she had an Enlargement charm put on her purse for purposes of stashing her "goods."
And like that, they were at Platform Nine and Three Quarters standing quietly. She was telling him to uphold his honor and not to mess around at all. And he had better be in Slytherin, or Dumbledore would be hearing from her and the rest of The Family (the purebloods and all of their children). Fifteen minutes, fourteen minutes and thirty seconds, ten, seven…..
"Well, I guess….this is goodbye. Go on now, Sirius, and make us proud. Don't forget, Tonjours Pur." She said with a renewed look of what was that? A smile? No, that was not. That woman was incapable of smiling. He mused that it was probably a wince and a half-smile. He murmured his goodbye, and got on the train.
It didn't take him very long to find his compartment, and he had it all to himself. He'd expected to find someone soon enough, so he sat down and relaxed (something he could get used to without being accused by his mother of being totally useless). He was going to be fine. If he hadn't seen McKinnon at all this morning and was finally on the train, then the next seven years were going to be a breeze for him…
Barely three minutes later, after he had spent time looking at his girly-looking hands (they had hints of nails growing there, and they didn't have any scabs or dirt anywhere, his darned mother was way too high on the concept of hygiene), there was a knock and then a slide of the compartment door.
At the opening was a boy who had raven-black hair and glasses on his face. He looked confident, and was about the same size as him. And more importantly, he looked just as Sirius had felt three minutes ago: in the mood for some mischief. The grin on his face gave it away. It was obvious that he was as ambitious as any other eleven year old boy of his stature would be.
"Do you mind?" The boy queried with a confident and cool voice.
"Oh, not at all, help yourself," Sirius mirrored his tone. He knew that this boy and he would get along well, at least for the afternoon if not for a while.
"Splendid. Oh, by the way, my name's James….."
A/N: So? What do you think? Is it worth taking further? Please tell me! Hope you enjoyed it!