The Last Marauder

Maris Caitiff wandered down the great lawns of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry to find a spot to sit one fine, sunny afternoon. She found a gorgeous oak tree with branches reaching high overhead and spread her cloak underneath it as a blanket to sit on. She opened a book and didn't bother to greet her companions as they joined her. They were used to this type of behavior, as Maris was the quiet genius who spent most of her time reading.

Acacia joined her shortly, sitting down half in the shade of the tree and half in the sunshine, enjoying the interplay of cool and warm on the different parts of her body. "How was practice?" She asked as Jacqueline slumped towards them, her broom slung over her shoulder.

Jackie rolled her eyes as she lay on the grass, gazing up at the pallid blue sky. Her long black hair was set in perfect French braids only a little windswept from flying about the Quidditch pitch; her perfect skin gleamed in the weak sunlight. She swished her wand lazily, swirling loose flowers in the air above her.

"That bad?" Acacia laughed as she picked absent-mindedly at the vibrant green grass.

"Our chasers act as if they've never seen a quaffle before. The keeper is a buffoon and our beaters…" She shook her head dejectedly. "We're in trouble this year."

"Did you hear Harry Potter signed another book deal?" Piped Regan Dent nervously, as she found the other girls and plunked over to them. It was Regan's habit to be three topics behind everyone else and to interrupt conversations with pointless factoids just to prove it.

"Oh Harry Potter Harry Shmotter." Jackie intoned. "He's not so great."

Maris rolled her eyes. In her opinion Harry Potter was really great, one of the greatest wizards of the time, but she wasn't about to say so in front of Acacia or Jackie who would likely turn on her like a pack of hungry jackals.

"I'm so incredibly bored. Let's do something vile." Acacia grinned wickedly, flicking a stray wave of dark brown hair over her shoulder.

Maris shot them both a dirty look. "Do you think of nothing but causing mischief?"

"Yes." Acacia replied. "We need to earn our title."

"And what title would that be?"

"The New Marauders." Jacqueline replied lazily.

"Who were the Old Marauders?" Regan asked.

"You can be so un-cool sometimes that it's painful Reg." Acacia said, without regard for Regan's feelings.

Maris shook her head. "The Old Marauders were a bunch of guys who went around the school and caused mischief and mayhem."

"What I wouldn't give for their old map." Acacia said.

"We could make our own." Maris said pointedly. "We're smart enough to manage a piece of magic like that."

"What map?" Regan asked clueless.

"The Marauders Map." Acacia said, throwing a handful of grass clippings at the other girl.

Jacqueline smiled triumphantly. "It will be brilliant. We'll make our own map, find all of the secret passages and rule the school."

"What's so great about a map?" Regan asked to no one in particular. She was very used to her questions going unanswered unless Maris was around, so she didn't expect a reply.

Maris turned to her, as she always did, full of patience and exactly like a teacher. "This map will tell us where people are in the castle in relation to where we are, so we can avoid getting caught out of bed or making mischief. We can wipe it clean quickly so that it just looks like a blank piece of parchment and only the four of us will know how to operate it."

"It will be choice." Acacia said.

"How did you even find out about the Marauders?" Regan asked, still painfully curious.

"They're legendary." Jackie answered. "They were the most mischievous, most advanced, most popular students at Hogwarts."

"Rumor has it they were unregistered animagi too."

"Too bad none of them are still alive to confirm or deny that fact." Maris said coolly. It was cold, hard fact that the last Marauder had died a few years ago, having been stalked by a faction of werewolf hunters. Moony, the one Maris had always identified with, had died at the hands of those he had fought against tirelessly, twenty years to the day since his graduation from Hogwarts.

She looked at her friends: Jackie so cool and confident, Acacia so beautiful and dark, Regan always so full of questions and a longing to fit in. She wondered where they would be in twenty years. Would they all be dead like Moony's friends? Would they be happy, somewhere with family and friends nearby?

She shook her head softly. Only time could tell her the answers to those questions.

Only years later would she be able to look back on that afternoon sitting on her cloak under the tree, talking about how great the future would be. Only then would she be able to see that time would change all of them.

They would make their great map. They would be the most famous pranksters since the Weasley twins, even though they would pay daily homage to the bit of swamp still in the Charm's corridor. They would spend the next three years at Hogwarts wreaking havoc and barely escaping the floggings of their fellow Ravenclaws when they lost house points for getting caught.

After graduation things changed dramatically. Acacia wandered away from the group first. Maris was always surprised about that; she had always thought Regan would be the first to lose touch considering she was the most alienated. No, it was Acacia and it was because she was just so conflicted inside. She was a good person, this Maris knew, but Acacia didn't believe it and she let the evil eat her from the inside out.

Regan left next, only to turn around and kill Acacia years later. It wasn't because Acacia had turned so dark. It was more because Regan had always hated Acacia and she was only waiting for her opportunity to strike. How very like her namesake from King Lear. Regan met her own sticky end by swindling money from a bunch of goblins. Goblins, like scorned women will always seek revenge.

Jackie kept in touch with Maris for a little while but after Maris' accident they lost contact. Jackie wasn't certain she could maintain a relationship with a vampire. She wasn't sure she wanted to. It was with heavy tears that Maris buried Jacqueline Miller one moonless night not long after their parting. She was just not meant for this world and her death was marked with her last friend's naked sobs pouring over her open grave.

Maris was the last Marauder standing.

She now faced the same problem Moony did.

How could one negotiate in a world that despised you? She understood very well why vampires were feared and hated and hunted. She knew the consequence of living with fangs. It was an eternal endless night and some days she was just ready to jump out of her casket and walk into the sun.

But there was one distant memory of a sunny afternoon, sitting on her cloak under a tree.

There was a girl at the height of her youth laughing with her friends. She was pretty, fair skin, blond hair. She smiled with her lips closed, secretive like a famous painted lady. She was happy and there was still mirth and joy in her veins. There was still life in her body.

It was when she remembered that one sunny afternoon that she would simply snuggle into herself and hope that there was a way to get some of that back.