Picture a train station. It is old and slightly shabby, its floors scuffed by many feet, its pillars marked by many chips, its doorway without a hint of polish. It has no signs, no guards, no ticket stalls. It does have a clock, set high above, but there are no timetables.
In this place, which was both very far away and as close as one heartbeat to another, four people were waiting.
They had been waiting a while.
"Do you think they're coming?" asked one. He is small, slight, and mousy-haired, standing a little apart from the others as though unsure of himself. The man next to him gives him a friendly nudge.
"'Course they will. You worry too much." Though not the tallest of the three men, he is the obvious leader, standing arm-in-arm with the only woman present.
The mousy-haired man chews his bottom lip nervously, then blurts out "What if–"
The man on the other side of the pair gives him a sharp look, but not an unfriendly one. It contains a lifetimes worth of exasperation.
"Keep our knickers on," he says wearily. "It's not as if there are any other stops..."
The leader nods in agreement, but all the same glances up at the clock uneasily. It has no hands or any numerals; the time here cannot be measured with something as crass as clockwork. He stares at it a while, before nodding and smiling.
"They are coming," he announces to the group in general. A reassured feeling follows his words. "Almost here."
They go back to watching, fidgeting, and occasionally reassuring each other. The tallest man scuffs his feet and looks at the clock needlessly.
Finally the woman, whose green eyes reflect relief for them all, says softly "here they are."
A brightly-painted scarlet train pulls up, billowing steam. It grinds to a halt, then the doors slide back. Three figures step out.
One sees the assembled waiters and lets out a strangled cry, pulling free of his companion to run ahead. The company gives a joyful howl and swamps him in a group hug, along with the where have you beens and we've been waiting ages of those who have waited too long already. Then he pulls back, tears streaming over his cheeks unashamedly.
"It's... good to see you," he whispers before turning back. "'Dora..."
"Tonks, Remus," says his companion with a mock-scowl. "You know I hate being called that... makes me sound like a maiden aunt..."
"You got married?" asks the tallest man with a disbelieving lift of his eyebrows. "What happened, you jumped her after a serious head injury?"
"Fine one to talk, you are," says the leader with a playful shove. "Mister Casanova..."
"It's a muggle thing," the woman adds to the confused newcomers. "You won't believe what people talk about here. We had one man babbling about his cat; said he'd forgotten to feed her."
A silky sound, such as might be made by the cloak of someone starting to walk quietly away, makes them stop and turn. The leader coughs.
"Sneaking away?"
The third newcomer scowls magnificently, although not without a long look at the woman.
"Merely unwilling to break up the... happy reunion," he says smoothly. The tallest man makes an impatient sound. The one named Remus gives him a sharp nudge, before saying politely "it is a reunion, Severus. For everyone."
"That's why we invited you," Tonks adds.
"You did?" The leader looks mildly astonished.
"You sound surprised," says the third newcomer sourly.
"He has reason," comments Remus fairly. "But this is a reunion, and... well, it wouldn't be the same without you."
The tallest man looks as though he is about to say something sarcastic, but the green-eyed woman kicks him in the ankle.
The third newcomer raises an eyebrow, but says "I see since you have apparently forgiven Wormtail..."
The mousy-haired man blushes, but says nothing. The leader winks at him before saying smoothly "Well, we needed the complete set for the Marauders, you know."
"Complete with old prey?" the newcomer remarks sourly.
"Complete with new members," corrects Remus, much to the surprise of the tall man, who yelps and shouts "Lily!" as the green-eyed woman kicks him again.
"He'll need to learn to become an Animagus," points out Wormtail quietly.
"Probably be a bat," mutters the tallest man before yelping again.
"As a matter of fact," says the newcomer acidly, "my Patronus used to be a raven."
"Oh good." The leader now looks a little shell-shocked. "We can call you Quoth."
The newcomer looks supremely unimpressed by this, but Remus says quietly "Severus...?"
Reluctantly, as though his feet were moving forward of their own accord, the third newcomer walks forward to the group. He settles between Lily and Wormtail, with a quizzical look at the latter and a longer one at the former. She returns it with a smile.
"Right, now that's sorted out," says the leader briskly, rubbing his hands together, but Remus stops him.
"That setback..."
"Oh, now what?" says the tall man impatiently.
"We met someone who might like to join," Remus carries on with a sharp look to his friend. "Harry might have mentioned him– them."
With that a fourth figure emerges from the steam, looking around slowly but with a jaunty air that endears him to the assembled Marauders at once.
"Sirius?" it asks, brushing back rust-coloured hair. "That you, mate?"
The tall man smiles sadly and says "Fred Weasley?"
"I'm George."
"Sorry, sorry..."
"Only joking." He reaches the group, gives Severus a distrusting look, and addresses Remus. "This the gang, then?"
Remus nods, before turning to the leader. "I'm sure you have heard of the Weasley twins."
The leader roars with laughter and shakes the hands of Fred. "Sirius filled me in while we were waiting. Good to know there's a new generation of magical mischief makers to carry on our work..."
"Your help was invaluable, master Prongs," Fred says gravely. He looked up at Remus.
"Sorry, sir, I've changed my mind... I'd rather stay here."
"Severus scared you off already?" remarks Sirius dryly, earning himself a dirty look.
"Oh no, it'd take more than that..." the boy says with a grin. He appears younger than before, and happier. "But... I've got someone to wait for you see."
The Marauders share a look, even Severus. "We understand," says the leader. "Do you want us to...?"
"Nah, go on ahead and make things ready," Fred tells him firmly. "I'll have time to brighten the place up by myself."
Remus looks up at the clock, before smiling. "Yes, a lot of time."
The boy salutes the assembled Marauders, before turning away and taking out his wand. He hears the voices behind him squabble.
"We need to hurry, everyone's waiting..."
"Broomsticks, Prongs?"
"You read my mind, Padfoot."
Purple and gold balloons bearing the leitmotif Weasleys Wizarding Wheezes start to sprout from the tip, hanging in the air like rainbow bubbles. The boy grins.
"First stop the Forbidden Forest."
"Assuming it is there," comments Severus sardonically.
"Well, we'll find somewhere like it. Plenty of time."
Soon fireworks fill the station, a riot of green and blue wreathed in smoke and spouting sparks. The train starts to leave.
"All the time in the world."
And picture a train station, with no signs, no guards, no ticket stalls, no timetables, no time, and leaving it in an always arguing, always chaotic, but always friendly group, going out to explore...
In a world full of new adventures.
Beg pardon for wandering into your fandom, but I felt it needed writing...
Feedback, anyone?
