Anyone who's read the epilogue of Deathly Hallows has noticed James Potter II's resemblance to the two Marauders after whom he is named. I figured that Harry would have had to tell him their story at some point, and that he would pass on the Marauder's Map at the same time. This is my version of that story, but I can't take credit for any of it - JKR owns it all.
James Potter was quiet. You had to be, if you wanted to be a master prankster. You had to be quiet, you had to be stealthy, and you had to have a sense for avoiding trouble.
Unfortunately for James, there was one person he could never avoid.
He tiptoed into his brother's room, the "special" candy his Uncle George had given him clenched tightly in his fist. This was going to be his last prank on Al before he went off to Hogwarts, which meant he had to make it a good one.
"James."
The quiet voice cut through the silence, and James jumped, almost dropping the candy and turning to stuff it into his pocket as he turned to face the figure in the doorway. Again. "Yes, Dad?" he squeaked.
Harry Potter said nothing; just held out his hand. James knew trickery wouldn't work, but he never failed to give it a shot. "What?"
"James," Harry repeated, and that was it. James reached sulkily into his pocket, pulled out the candy, and handed it to his father.
Harry examined it, with a look of disbelief on his face. "A Canary Cream?" he said, after a moment of silence. "Do I even want to know what you were planning to do with that?"
"Probably not," replied James honestly.
Harry looked like he wanted to laugh but was working hard to restrain himself. "James," he said, for the third time. "You're starting Hogwarts tomorrow, which means we need to have a talk."
He didn't sound angry, but his voice had grown serious, more serious than James had ever heard it. He was almost scared. It was just a harmless prank!
Mutely he followed his father downstairs, where they entered his office. Harry closed the door behind him.
James could count on his fingers the number of times he'd been in this office. Dad was an Auror, and his work was so serious that the kids weren't allowed in this office alone. And even if they wanted to come in, being an Auror allowed you to have tricks up your sleeve to best an eleven-year-old prankster. James had managed to sneak everywhere else in the house, but never here.
"Okay," said Harry, tapping the door with his wand and sitting down at his desk, motioning for James to sit down beside him. He reached into the drawer and pulled something out, hiding it in his pocket right away before James could get a good look at it. But he was distracted from trying to figure out what it was by his father talking again.
"James, I want to tell you a story now, and afterwards I want you to make me a promise. And if you never again listen to anything I say – not to say that you shouldn't – but if you decide only to listen to one thing I ever say to you, let it be this. All right?"
His seriousness was making James nervous, but he nodded.
Harry settled back into his chair, hands in his lap, and closed his eyes. "Many years ago, at Hogwarts, there was a group of friends. Four boys."
"How long ago?" interrupted James.
"Before I was born," said Harry, a slight smile on his face. "Anyway, these four boys were best friends. Two of them were sort of the leaders of the group. They had everything – good-looking, funny, excellent pranksters" – here he shot a look at James, who had brightened up – "and smart without trying. All the girls adored them – well, most of the girls, anyway" – and here he chuckled, at some private joke – "and they ruled the school."
He paused for a moment, then continued. "The other two weren't quite as lucky. One of them had a very serious problem, and he had never had friends before because of it."
"What kind of problem could be serious enough to cause you to have no friends?" interrupted James, shocked. He couldn't imagine having a problem that would make his cousins hate him.
"You'll see later," answered Harry. "Anyway, he had never had friends before he met these three other boys, but they all accepted him right away, and he was happier than he'd ever been in his life."
"What about the fourth boy?" asked James.
"He was . . . well, he wanted power. He was drawn to power, like a magnet, and these four boys had all the power in the school. He was smaller and weaker than the other boys, and being with them ensured that he'd never be picked on again."
Harry sighed. "But those first two boys – they seem perfect, right?"
They were everything James wanted to be. He nodded, but sensed that a 'but' was coming.
"They weren't." Harry said it flatly, as though out of some old resentment, but his voice calmed soon. "They had it all, yes, or seemed to. But one of them – his home life was horrible, and he hated his parents" –
James shivered, and reached out for his father's hand. "I don't hate you, Dad," he said earnestly.
"I know you don't, James," said Harry with a smile, squeezing his son's hand. "We wanted to raise you better than this boy's parents did."
"I think you did," answered James.
"Thank you so much." Harry's voice was a bit choked up now, but he got it under control quickly. "Anyway, he hated his parents, and that made him lash out. It made him want to pick on other people. And he and the other leader – they were both so popular, and smart, that they thought that everything that they did was right. They grew proud and entitled, and started picking on people who were smaller and weaker than they were, because they thought that being powerful gave them the right to do that.
"They went beyond harmless pranks. They were cruel, to people who had never done anything to them. And they were even mean to the other boy in the group, the one who was smaller and wanted their protection."
James was getting a bit chilled. He had a feeling he knew where his father was going in this conversation.
"And the last boy," Harry said heavily, "he had never had friends before. And he didn't want to give up the ones that he had by making them hate him. So whenever they would bully someone weaker than them, this other boy would just sit and watch."
"But if they were his friends," interrupted James, "wouldn't they still care about him no matter what?" Then he remembered what they had done to their fourth friend.
"I think they would have," said Harry, "but he didn't. So he stayed quiet, and he let them bully.
"It all came to a head one day at the end of their fifth year. One of the boys – the leader with the good home life – he had always gotten everything he wanted. Except for one thing. A girl.
"He'd had a crush on her for years, but she hated it when he would pick on other kids, and he couldn't seem to grasp this. So he'd do it even more when she was around, trying to impress her, and she ended up hating him even more. One day, he went too far, and ended up ruining her oldest friendship."
James was getting worried. He didn't like this story anymore, or its implications.
"But after that," continued Harry, "he started to change. He grew up. He stopped picking on kids who were smaller and weaker than he was. He stopped being a bully. And eventually, once she saw that he had changed, the girl fell in love with them, and they got married."
"Did they live happily ever after?" asked James. He usually made fun of his siblings' insistence on hearing stories with happy endings, but in this one he was really hoping for one.
"Not exactly," said Harry. "Do you want to hear their names?"
"Yes!" said James.
"Peter Pettigrew was the smallest one, the weakest one. The boy who had never had any friends was Remus Lupin. Yes," he added, at James's questioning look, "Teddy's father. And the last two," he paused dramatically, "were Sirius Black and James Potter."
James froze. His grandfather and his best friends, who they'd always heard talk about as heroes – except for Peter Pettigrew; he'd never heard that name before – had been horrible bullies in school? Why had he been named after them?
"I don't want you to lose respect for them," said Harry, noting James's look of dismay. His voice softened, and he took James's shoulders, making him look into his eyes. "James, Sirius, and Remus grew up to be great, brave, loving men, and I'm proud to have known – and been descended from – them. I just want you to understand that what they did at that time was wrong."
James nodded, noticing that he hadn't mentioned Peter Pettigrew. But that seemed to be a story for another day.
"I know you like a laugh," said Harry. "You like to prank people, and you like to make jokes. And that's fine," he insisted, as James's eyes began to well up. "But I want you to promise me that you won't make the same mistakes that these boys did. You'll make mistakes in your life – I know it, we all have and we all will – but I want you to promise me now that you'll never be a bully. I don't want you to stop laughing, or joking, because that's who you are and I don't want you to change. I just want you to know where the line is between joking with someone and truly hurting them. Can you promise me that?"
His piercing green eyes stared straight into James's hazel ones, and James nodded.
"I promise," he whispered.
"Thank you." Harry's voice was intense, deep, and James suddenly felt a lot more grown up.
But then Harry smiled, and reached into his pocket for the thing he'd pulled out earlier. "I also wanted to give you something," he said, "on the condition that you share it with Al and Lily when it's their turn to go to Hogwarts. Can you do that?" James nodded again, getting excited to see what he had.
"This," said Harry solemnly, handing James an old piece of parchment, "is the most useful tool for pranking you'll ever find. Teddy had it, but now that he's no longer at Hogwarts, it passes on to you. Just don't tell your mother I gave it to you, all right?"
"All right," said James warily, taking the parchment and examining it. It just looked like a piece of old parchment to him. Disappointment flooded through him, and he looked up at his father. "Useful?" he accused. "How is this useful?"
Harry pulled out his wand, tapped the parchment, and said, "I solemnly swear that I am up to no good."
And James watched in amazement as the letters spiraled over the page, forming the intricate map of Hogwarts.
"Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs," he murmured. "The Marauders."
When he looked up at his father, he saw that Harry was grinning. "You know those four boys I was telling you about earlier?"
"REALLY?" James gasped.
Harry tapped each name with a finger as he said their real names. "Remus Lupin, Peter Pettigrew, Sirius Black, and James Potter, your namesake."
"Prongs," whispered James reverently.
"Mischief managed," said Harry, tapping the map with his wand again. "Here," he said, handing it to James as it wiped itself blank. "Examine it later. And don't forget everything I told you today, all right?"
The green eyes pierced him again, and James could only say, "I promise."
"Thank you." Without warning, Harry had pulled him out of the chair and was hugging him hard. "I love you."
"I love you, too, Dad."