Chapter 1

Forward: Twenty Years

At one point in the craziness that became my life during its seventeenth year, a boy named James Potter told me something I will never forget. "When you feel like everything is falling apart, just turn your attention to something else. Before you know it, everything will be okay." This is a wonderful philosophy... for a teenage boy going through a hard time. It doesn't exactly work when the entire world really is falling down around you; your friends and family trapped, screaming, in the wreckage. Since then, I've had to learn different strategies of coping with the terror that I have come to live with every day.

On one of these days, I was finally cleaning out a few old boxes. I found the old wooden box I received for my fifth birthday from my grandpa – who died the next year – in which I keep all of my old journals. It was late January 1980, come to think of it. I had been ordered to remain at home for the durations of my pregnancy, and had begun to run out of things to do while everyone I knew was off fighting for their lives as well as mine and my baby's. I set aside a day to read them all. As I was reading, my own life unfolded before me like a forgotten dream. All of the hopes and dreams of childhood became the wonder of discovery during my early teenage years, and then, in turn, slowly began to fall apart. I cried a lot that day.

While I read over my life, a single night kept floating to the forefront of my mind. It had been at Hogwarts, when everything was still so bloody possible, before the cracks turned into fissures and the walls began to crumble. We were in the common room, firelight dancing across our faces in the late night darkness, talking of things we barely understood. We talked about the war. We talked about the lost, and the stories they could have told. We talked about how, twenty years from now, no one would remember our names. We would be just another group of people that lived and died, useless, forgettable. Another group of tragic youths, our promise stolen away from under our own feet.

I remember distinctly the way Remus spoke of what he regretted. I wish now I had paid more attention to the others, and their reactions. He said, "I wish we had known that our innocence was running out. But then, I guess we wouldn't have been innocent any longer." Those words stuck with me. I have them recorded in the last pages of that year's journal, which I reserve for the type of quotes you can't get out of your head until you know that they're safely tucked away.

That night, we had all discussed our own mortality beyond the harsh facts we had all already come to accept. We had all accepted our part in the fighting. We knew we could die. But this mortality meant that we would be forgotten. We had discussed the wish to tell those people in the future we probably wouldn't have about our lives, and warn them of the dangers we had, so far, lived through. I dreamt of it that night. I saw people, just like us, sitting around the common room fire. They were talking about us, knew our names and our lives, knew our mistakes and our triumphs. I knew they were generations removed from us, yet they knew us, and had learned from us. After reading about these lives in my journals, I had the dream again.

The next morning, I woke up with an odd feeling of necessity. I stood staring at those tattered books spread across my coffee table, still wrapped in my robe and clutching my morning coffee, for what seemed like hours. I remember thinking of how my own life was recorded in those books. All of the struggles, heartaches and tears, all of the joy I felt, all of the love I shared, was there written on the pages bound by a dozen or so tattered bindings, well-worn from use. Have you ever had one of those moments when you just know? I have them a lot. And in that moment, I knew what I had to do with those books.

I have compiled some of those books into this; a warning, a life – a story. Maybe one day, if I should die in this war, someone else will carry it on, so that everyone can know our lives. I guess if you're reading this, someone already has. Or, perhaps, you will be the one to do so. I have done this for you, whoever you may be, so that you can know. Knowledge is the greatest gift mankind can have. It is all that I can give you.

I am an emotional person. I am irrational and passionate. I loved more than some could ever imagine. I lived more dangerously that most would dare to dream. I lived, and I regret very little. May you live as well.

Author's Note:

(Warning! This note will be quite length and arduous. I promise, this will not be a regular occurance.)

If any of this sounds familiar to you, it's because this story has had a couple of previous incarnations. I published a few chapters of it under the name Noahdia. But then I left it to rot, and finding I couldn't get it out of my head, have decided to give it a fresh start. I was never completely happy with the previous stuff anyway. So this is better for everyone.

I'm not saying it's a definite, but here is a basic summary of the plan if it turns out you like it (Because, let's be honest, there's no reason for me to take the time to publish things I can just as easily write for myself if no one is reading it. I don't do it for my ego, I do it to grow as a writer. So, please, all (and I do mean all) feedback is highly appreciated.): This story will be at least 25 or so chapters long. The real chapters will much longer than this one, of course. There might be a sequel, or I might add that information onto this, or I might just not do it at all. But the dream is to do a story from each of the marauder's points of view in the same universe. They will overlap and intersect and it will be bucketfuls of fun.

As to the tone of the story, it won't all be like this. I am of the very firm opinion that the world leading up to and during the first war was five hundred times darker than we in the fanfiction community like to think sometimes. I had a reviewer when this story was first published say that it was like the air raids in London during the world wars, and I agree to an extent. But I think it was probably even worse. Not that I would have experienced any of that to even be able to say. However, rest assured, this will not be merely an indulgent angst-ridden mess. Angst stories have their place, but that's not all this one is. The darkness is necessary, and what makes the world so facinating, but, even more so, is the humor, the ways they would have found to cope with it. Even with all that mess going on, from the way they describe what life was like then, from what Remus and Sirius and others tell Harry, and from what you can gather, they were really funny people. I try my very best to show all aspect of what their lives would have been like.

And now, finally, we come to the last point. I believe the point in writing fanfiction is to have fun and steal other people's material for you own entertainment. That being said, this is now my own official disclaimer and the only one I will write: If you recognize it, that's because you've probably seen it before, and it's not my own work. I like to insert references and lines into things, and it takes all the fun out if I go back and tell you exactly what it is. If I ever steal an exact quite, I will of course cite it in a little note at the end. There very often will be references to music especially. If you want to sue me, try. I consider my own fun to be more important than a bunch of non-existant legal issues. References are not a violation of any copywrite laws. And, as an added bonus, if you are the first to leave a review and tell me where a reference came from, I will send you a sneak peak of upcoming material. So keep a lookout. And if you wonder about it, I'll always be happy to answer in the affirmative or negative individual questions.

Oh, and one last bit. I am publishing this before finding a beta. If you're interested, let me know, or if you might be able to direct me to a good match - someone that would appreciate the story while pushing to get the best out of me. As aweful as my spelling is, I'm trying to find someone that will do more than correct typos.

So, I look forward to your reviews, and I hope you're looking forward to the next chapter. Until then, go find something else to do.