This is my first fanfiction, so I'm sorry if it's absolutely awful. And that's if you're even reading this in the first place. Anyways, I'm not JKR and do not own anything recognizable, whether it be characters or scenes.

Chapter One

Just Another Letter

Really, it wasn't unusual. Every witch and wizard that was destined to attend Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry got one. No, the fact that these children got their letters wasn't unusual. The unusual part would come much later, just a little over ten years. Of course, that's not where the story begins.

When did it begin? That question remains unanswered, but if you think that their journey starts when they started the adventure that would determine their futures, then the story would begin the day they got their letters.

It was a crisp day on November 3, 1970, when an owl arrived at the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black. Orion Black had gone off to his job at the Ministry, leaving Walburga Black with her two sons, Sirius and Regulus.

When Walburga heard the insistent pecking at the window, she knew at once. Summoning her eldest, Sirius, downstairs, Walburga dramatically fetched the letter. The Hogwarts symbol stood out against the white paper.

"Sirius, you do know what today is?" she asked her son. Sirius nodded, his hands clasped behind his back. Walburga narrowed her eyes. "Do tell what day it is, son." The young boy stood up straighter and responded in a clear voice. "Today is my birthday, ma'am." Walburga smiled. It wasn't a nice and welcoming smile, like the type your grandma would give you. If anything, it was more of a sneer.

"Correct. Now, do you recognize what this is?" Walburga held up the letter. A ghost of a grin flitted across the boy's face before disappearing. "The Hogwarts symbol, Mother," Sirius said politely. Walburga nodded, her sharp eyes glancing over Sirius to make sure nothing was out of place. "If I open this letter to discover you're a Squib, I will be dreadfully disappointed."

Sirius knew he wasn't a Squib, but his mother's words bounced around in his head. His mother often liked to make the boys panic. It was like a game to her. No, he could not be a Squib. Squibs were almost as low as mudbloods. Almost.

Walburga opened the letter slowly. Her eyes scanned the page before making a disapproving noise. "I see that old fool McGonagall is still there," Walburga idly commented before handing the letter to Sirius. Sirius eagerly read the letter, his eyes drinking in every word. "Mother, when will we go to Diagon Alley?" Walburga thought about it for a moment. "Today, I suppose. The less mudbloods and blood traitors, the better. Now come, Sirius. You, my son, will be the greatest Black in Slytherin."

On the stairs, a boy, aged nine, watched the scene with a sour expression. How come Sirius got all the attention? If Regulus had the chance, he would trade places in a heartbeat. Being the heir meant riches and favoritism. Being the second child meant all he had to do was keep the Black family in good graces. Pouting, Regulus went to go find the newborn house-elf that he had taken a liking to.

January 30, 1971 meant it was nearly the end of the first month in 1960. It also meant that Lily Evans was turning eleven.

Nobody had come to her house by noon, and Lily was getting worried. She did trust Sev, but there was always that chance he was lying to her. On his birthday in early January he had come running to her house to show Lily his letter. What if he had forged it? What if she'd been believing a lie for the past two years? What if she wasn't a witch, but boring old Lily Evans? What if...

The doorbell interrupted Lily's thoughts. She ran to the door, hoping with all her might. "Lily, what on Earth?" she heard her mother yell when she flew by her. Lily ignored her mum and flung open the door. Sure enough, an old woman wearing black robes stood on her doorstep. "Sev told me all about you! You're Professor McGonagall, right?"

The old woman looked slightly amused. "Yes, I am Professor McGonagall. Would your Sev happen to be Severus Snape? I sent his letter out just a few weeks ago." Lily beamed. "Yes! Sev told me all about the magical world. I was doubting it when nobody came this afternoon, but then you appeared! Sev's told me about Hogwarts, but he's obviously never been there so he couldn't tell me very much. What's it like?"

Professor McGonagall held up her hand. Lily, embarrassed, stopped talking. "Lily, who is this?" a voice suddenly demanded. Lily looked up at her mother. She was glaring at the professor. "This is Professor McGonagall. She teaches at Hogwarts." Lily's mum sighed. "Lily, magic isn't really. I love you, but you're getting too old for..." she trailed off. Lily looked in the direction her mum was staring at. The old lamp in the corner had turned into a cat. Professor McGonagall stepped into the house. "I believe I have some explaining to do."

Lily's mum was still staring at the cat with an open mouth. "Rose Evans, isn't it?" the old professor asked her mother. Rose stepped back and leaned against the wall. "Give me a moment," she said shakily. Lily smiled widely. Yes, magic was real. She would be going to Hogwarts! A literal magic school!

Amidst the distractions, nobody spotted the blonde girl on the stairs. The young girl wiped a tear from her eye before going upstairs. "It's not fair," she whispered to herself. In that moment, the girl decided that she needed to do something. Blocking out the resumed conversation from downstairs, she constructed a letter. She signed her name, Petunia, with a flourish. If Lily got to go to Hogwarts and learn magic, then Petunia was going too.

A few months later, a pale boy named Remus sat reading on an old couch. He could smell his mum's cake baking in the oven and his dad's attempts at wrapping presents. There weren't very many, of course. Remus suspected he'd get a couple more this year to make up for his disappointment.

You see, young Remus was far from normal. Remus was a werewolf. Werewolves, to society, should be killed. Even his own father had that mindset until that fateful day nearly seven years ago. Remus shook his head. No, he wouldn't think of the incident today. Not when it already plagued his nightmares nearly every night.

Without warning, the doorbell rang. Remus started. The doorbell never rang. The Lupin family had no visitors, unless you counted the postman. After that horrible night, they had moved into a Muggle neighborhood.

He heard his mum walking quickly to the door. "Should I hide?" His mum's eyebrow furrowed. "Remus, dear, it's probably just the postman. Besides, I'm sure they can't tell just from looking at you," Hope Lupin said kindly. "But mum, you don't understand," Remus protested. "You're right, I don't. I stopped listening to your speeches like this around the two hundredth time. Now," Hope continues, "I'm going to open the door."

Hope swung open the door to reveal a man in deep purple robes with a long white beard. She shrieked and shielded Remus from view. "Pat!" she hollered. "Pat, come quick!" Remus's father ran into the room and stopped dead in his tracks when he spotted the unusual man.

"Professor Dumbledore," he greeted, kindly enough. "What brings you here?" Dumbledore's eyes twinkled. "I believe it is your son's birthday today?" Remus, who had been frozen with shock in the sudden change of events, stood up and walked towards Dumbledore.

"Sir, if you've come for me, I promise I've never done anything! It's illegal to kill me if I haven't hurt anybody," Remus pleaded, his voice breaking at the end of his sentence. "Please," he added desperately. Hope looked near tears, but Pat was staring at Dumbledore as if he was a difficult math problem that Hope always tried to get Remus to do.

"Back when I was a student, you mentioned werewolves being deserving of respect. I hope your viewpoints haven't changed?" Dumbledore smiled kindly at his father. "You were always a bright student, Mr. Lupin. Now, would Remus be willing to play Gobstones with me?"

Later that night, when Remus drifted off to sleep, he didn't dream of the attack for the first time in a long time. Instead, he dreamed of Hogwarts and what it would bring.

Not even three weeks after Remus got his unexpected letter, another young boy was impatiently waiting for his. This boy was named James Potter.

James stared at his clock. The clock had just turned to five o'clock in the evening, and James was beginning to fear the worst. What if he wasn't a wizard? He'd miss out on so much. Would his parents disown him? No, he didn't think they would. Families such as the Blacks, Malfoys, and Notts would.

Maybe his parents weren't his real parents and he was a prince of a long lost land. The Ministry wouldn't have his name down, so James wouldn't get a letter. He'd travel to his kingdom, which he decided to name Quidditch Land, and...

"James!" he heard his mum calling. James ignored her and decided to add some more details to his kingdom. "James!" his dad yelled. When James still didn't respond, his mum stormed up the stairs and flung open his door.

"James Fleamont Potter, what in Merlin's name are you doing?" James spared his mum a glanced. "I'm constructing my kingdom," he told her in a deadpan voice. His mother looked baffled. "What kingdom?" she asked. James shrugged. "You know, the one you kidnapped me from." James's mum gave him a strange look but decided not to elaborate. This behavior wasn't unusual in the Potter household.

"A letter came for you," his mum said. James's face lit up with delight. "Where? Is it for Hogwarts? Is it hidden? I'll go find it, Mum!" With those departing words, James sprinted out of the room. His mother sighed and leaned against the wall.

"He sure grew up fast, didn't he Euphemia?" Euphemia looked up at her husband's face and smiled sadly. "He sure did. Fleamont, you don't think he'll get in too much trouble, do you? He's always off daydreaming and says the most random sentences." Fleamont looked worried for a second before saying anything. "He'll be fine. He'll get some friend that'll bring James down to Earth."

From the floor below, a yell was heard. "I found it! You need better hiding places, Mum and Dad! I can't wait to be in Gryffindor!" the elated eleven-year-old shouted. Euphemia hastily spoke up. "On the other hand, he'll be just fine at Hogwarts, won't he?"

Peter Pettigrew turned eleven on a warm day on May 8. His mum had shooed him out of the kitchen, no doubt so she could make his birthday cake. Peter still pretended to be surprised, mostly because his mum always looked so sad since his father had passed away the year before

Peter laid down on his bed, bored. He could read a book, but that was too boring. He could play a game, but his mum was preoccupied. He could sleep. Yes, that sounded nice.

However, Peter couldn't fall asleep. He wondered if he'd get his Hogwarts letter. He knew he was at least a bit magical- Peter had once levitated the telly that his dad liked when their football teams had lost. Peter and his dad had griped about their team until Peter had gotten upset enough to levitate the telly. Peter's dad had yelled out, which made his mum come running in. She had been delighted and promptly made a cake.

Now that he thought about it, his mum made a lot of cakes.

Would he get accepted into Hogwarts? Peter's mum had said that his accidental magic usually involved charm work, so he'd probably be pretty good in Professor Flitwick's class. His mum had been a Ravenclaw, which made Peter unsure if she was just saying that or not. Peter closed his eyes. Maybe he could force himself to sleep.

"Peter! Come here, quickly!" That was strange. He didn't know Inferi could talk, especially in his mother's voice. Peter pulled his cloak tighter around him as the ground started shaking. He quickly looked back and saw the Inferi's hands were on him. Peter let out a strangled yell as he fell through the ground. He was falling and falling until...

"Peter! You're up! There's a letter for you on the kitchen table!" Peter squinted against the harsh sunlight. "Huh?" he mumbled. "Peter, I said you got a letter!" Peter jumped up at once. His mum's excitement was no match for his.

"Where? Mum, where's my letter?" he demanded. "Merlin, Peter, do you listen? It's on the kitchen table, dear!" Peter ran out of the room as if his life depended on it. Sure enough, a letter with the Hogwarts seal laid on the table. Peter eagerly ripped it open and read the supplies list, not even stopping to consider seeing if he was a Squib or not.

"Mum, we need so many textbooks. How will we afford them all?" Peter asked, his happiness fading away. What if his mum couldn't afford to send him to Hogwarts? "Oh, don't worry, dear. We'll manage," she assured him. After all, they always scraped by.

In the year 1971, many children got their Hogwarts letter- returning students, new students, Head Students, Prefects, and Quidditch Captains alike. In this year, or the year prior in one case, Sirius Black, Lily Evans, Remus Lupin, James Potter, and Peter Pettigrew all received their letters. Little did they know, the five of them would be the ones who made history, whether the world remembered their name or not. But the year was 1971, and they were just excited eleven-year-olds.