Short little oneshot about a marauder. Not telling which one it is though, that's for you to decide! Leave a review saying who you think it is. (Yes, I did have a marauder in mind when I wrote this.)

And, of course, I do not own Harry Potter or any characters mentioned. Well, none really are mentioned by name, but you know what I mean...

My Marauder

He had kissed her.

Sure, he had kissed lots of girls, but that was then. That was when I had been a foolish, immature Gryffindor who had counted him as a friend. Not just a friend, my best friend.

I had never been more to him than a girl whose mouth was good for conversation rather than kissing. I had been his only girl friend, his only confident, his only friend he could talk to about his problems and not be made fun of. I had been his 'human diary,' as he had called me.

Then she had come into his life: a smart, pretty Ravenclaw who had taken my place. She had become his emotional outlet, his confident, and his friend.

Then he had kissed her.

Then they had become a couple, and she was the only girl he had kissed that he had seen as more than a pretty face. She had a beautiful brain to go along with it. He liked her for her inside, not her outside.

He may have liked her inside, but he loved my inside. A friend-love way. That's all we had been: friends.

We go way back before Hogwarts. I was a muggle, he was a wizard. Every day, when I would put on my school uniform, I would see him out my bedroom window. He would appear out of nowhere and walk away down the street.

I saw him do this every day, and thought nothing of it. It wasn't that unusual for kids to walk around in the morning anyway.

Then the day of comprehension came. I had contracted the flu, and my mother ordered me to stay in bed and eat chicken broth. I watched him walk down the street and out of sight in the morning, and checked every ten minutes to see if he had returned.

The entire day had passed with no sign of him. My sister and brother had come home from school, greeted me, and gave me sloppy 'Get Well Soon' cards, but there was still no sign of him. My father had come home from work and everyone but me was tucking into a delicious dinner of roast ham, and he had still not come back.

My mother had bathed my brother, and by the time my sister had climbed into the tub, I saw him out my window, walking back towards the spot he appeared from each morning. He turned into that same space, and disappeared.

I watched for him the next day, as I was still sick, and saw that he left at the same time each morning and arrived home the same time each night. I found this odd, as no parents I knew ever let their children walk out of sight for more than a minute, and he was always unaccompanied.

I confronted him the next day.

Although I was still recovering, I walked outside to talk to him anyway. I wrapped myself up in my dressing gown, my winter jacket, and pulled a shawl on over this, so that if my mother saw me, she would know I was taking care of myself.

He was just starting to walk away when I said 'Hello' and introduced myself. Although he looked at me strangely, he did the same. I found out that we were the same age, eight.

I asked him why he did not go to school, and he closed my question with one of his own.

"Have you ever dreamt of being a witch?" He had asked. I answered yes, and mentioned flying on a broom. Right after I said this, a broom flew out of nowhere and smacked him in the head. Although I had just met him, and it was rude, I laughed. He was rubbing his head, but he chuckled about it with me.

That was my first sign of magic.

After that confrontation, it became a weekend tradition for him to come over to my house and for my mother to make us grilled cheese sandwiches. Then she would give us a board game to play or a book to read. Sometimes she would even take us out to the movies. This tradition continued all through my primary school years, and we still got together during our Hogwarts years during the summer.

The summer leading up to our seventh year, we went to a gruesome and scary R rated movie by ourselves. It wasn't a date, it was a friendly outing. I watched the screen, bored, as he snorted and frowned at the crude tricks the director had used to make a vampire. We laughed together as girls screamed and clutched their boyfriends in terror. Nothing scared us, we were completely fearless.

Well, he was completely fearless. I was not afraid of death, torture, or dark wizards, but I was afraid of my own emotions.

This fear became known when I had looked at him one day and subconsciously thought, 'If only he was my boyfriend.' I shook my head, disgusted with myself, and pushed this out of my mind. But my fear had started.

I had fallen in love with my best friend.

Then she had come along. She was a raven-haired goddess; she had the perfect body, grades, and physique. She had become his emotional outlet, and I had heard him call her his human diary.

She had replaced me as his best friend.

Then he had kissed her.

After that, he saw me as a shadow, not as his best friend. He began to ignore me completely, turning to her instead of me.

So I confronted him, just the way I had nine years ago. I asked him why he had deserted me. I asked him why he had turned to her for comfort when I had always been there in the past.

And he had answered.

"I feel like I can tell you anything. I sometimes find myself telling you things that I never intended to tell anyone. I spill so much, I feel so at ease, that I almost feel threatened. I feel that if I allow myself to come to you for comfort, I will tell you my secret.

"This secret has been tearing me in two for four years. It has clawed at my heart, taken hold of my brain. When I get close to the subject of my secret, I feel as if my senses are on fire. I can hardly think, I can hardly speak, I can hardly move.

"If I keep telling you everything as I have done, I will one day let slip my secret and will be forever mortified."

Without another bit of explanation, he exited the room, and I saw her waiting for him outside.

What would he tell her tonight? What would I be kept in the dark about, while he told her, his hand playing with her curls?

I sat up for him, praying that I had not lost my best friend.

He came back very late, and I was sitting in an armchair, waiting. He saw me, and then hastened to the boys' staircase that led up to their dormitories.

"Are we still friends?" I asked, watching him disappear. He paused, and came back down the stairs. I stood up, and began walking towards him.

When we met each other in the center of the room, he stared at me; his eyes seemed to bore into mine. I tore my eyes away from his, and saw a muscle in his cheek twitching, his hands trembling. He sat down in the nearest armchair.

"My secret," He whispered. He pulled me into his lap. I felt his nose touching my cheek, his breath on my neck.

"I'm in love," He said.

"As am I," I whispered back. I felt his arms snake around me, pulling me closer.

"I'm in love with my best friend," He had whispered, barely audible.

"As am I," I echoed, equally as quiet.

Then he kissed me.

I started writing another chapter for a different marauder, but I'm thinking of just leaving this with one chapter. Should I keep going and write one for all the marauders?