A/N: Hello, my puppies. Let's start a new story together. This one is about- well, I'm sure you've read the summary, so what am I telling you? This is actually planned to be quite a long story about the Marauders' first year of school. I'll try to be as accurate as possible but since this is an adventure story I hope you won't mind if I throw in some of my own ideas (like the oh so mysterious Swan-Children - who will have their appearance soon). Please let me know what you think of it. It sure helps the writing when you know it's appreciated XD

The first chapter is the Prologue (which could actually be considered as the sequel to The Adventures of Little Moony Mooncalf). I know it's hard but please be patient and give Abby a chance. Our heroes have their appearance soon enough. :-)

Disclaimer: I don't own a thing - apart from my beloved Swan-Children. You'll see *smirks*!


Prologue

Sunday morning, 6:25.

As always, Abby woke exactly five minutes before her alarm clock went off. Yawning hugely, she rolled over in her far-too-big-for-only-one-person bed and found herself staring into the infinite vastness of Hugo's enormous nostrils. She grimaced, grabbed him by the neck and threw him out of her bedroom.

"For the umpteenth time, Hugo, you wait until I'm ready!" she growled, throwing the door in his face. She hated it when he sat on her bed – her bed. A habit he'd picked up from him. He had always been the good guy, the one who was understanding, the one you could always turn to, the one who allowed Hugo on the bed, the one who kissed her like no other…the one who had broken her heart and shattered her life into tiny pieces.

She stretched a little while she drew back the curtains. A magnificent sunrise painted itself onto the storm-grey sky and she felt her bad mood evaporate. Apart from having to get up, morning was her favourite time of day. She threw on a clean T-shirt and a not-so-clean pair of jeans and went over to the old mirror that hung on the door of her wardrobe. The light coming from outside was just enough to see her reflexion. She pulled her long, blond hair up into a ponytail without bothering to comb it first. Her eyes looked a little red from what she could tell but she guessed people wouldn't even recognise her anymore without that little feature. She hated crying but what she hated even more was when it showed.

Rubbing her eyes she opened the door and almost fell over Hugo who was still sitting there. Hugo was her dog. Actually, he had been his dog but as she'd left his flat in a rush a few months ago she just couldn't have found it in her heart to leave Hugo behind in the empty apartment to face an unknown future. Apologetically she stroked his chocolate coloured head and received a slobbery kiss in exchange. "Feeling fit for a walk?" she asked him, like every morning.

Before Abby had gone into her self-chosen exile, her mother had told her – somewhat desperately – how important a daily routine was if you felt like losing control over your life. Sometimes routine was the only thing that linked you to reality – or sanity for that. So Abby had worked hard to get herself a nice little routine. It really did help between sulking and suffering and hating the world to actually have something to do.

First thing on her daily schedule was to walk Hugo. She even enjoyed that part. She'd always been an early-bird.

She put on a mismatched pair of socks she found under the kitchen table and slipped into her winter boots which she hadn't changed yet for her usual trainers even though it was already April. She grabbed a light jacket, Hugo's leash and her keys on the way out and locked the door behind the dog who got so excited that he started chasing his tail in the front garden. "Stop it, you idiot. What if someone sees you?" she laughed a little teasingly. One of the good things about getting up so early even on a Sunday was that you had the whole town to yourself. She didn't even bother to take Hugo on the leash even though he wasn't exactly trained or well-behaved.

Without watching the way she merely followed the dog. He could usually be trusted with directions. Swinging the leash in her right hand she soon found her thoughts wandering back to the forbidden subject. They had both been young and naïve and she'd known that they'd been rushing it but when he had proposed – on his right knee, holding up a single red rose (like in all the schmalzy romantic films she used to laugh about but secretly admired) – she'd given in. Given in to his charms and his kindness, to his big and loving eyes and to her own dreams of happiness. The engagement had been short and the awakening from her dreams brutal. Even the best of people couldn't be trusted.

Abby bit her lower lip as she felt her eyes prick. She tried to focus on the present to get her head out of the past which tore open her unhealed heart. It took her a moment to realise where she was. She'd followed Hugo blindly through the whole town and along the low stonewall that surrounded Mr Lakeshore's cornfield. Hugo was some distance away, sniffing the ground frantically. He looked up at her shortly, barked once and went back to sniffing. Abby frowned. That was not Hugo's usual sniffing behaviour. She quickened her pace and went to see what made her dog so anxious. She found a book that lay in the dirt right next to the stonewall. She picked it up curiously and Hugo growled at it.

"Stop it, will you? It won't bite me, you crazy dog" she said distractedly as she ran her fingers over four long gashes which ran across and through the whole book. Apparently it was only held together by its spine which seemed to be more or less unharmed. Under all the dirt it looked like an old children's book. It had a blue cover and she could see traces of drawn objects. The title was practically unreadable. The only thing she could make out was the author: Peculia Q. Dearwinks. Strange name. Didn't ring a bell. She looked closer at the gashes. They looked like they had been made by an enormous animal, a bear maybe. A cold chill ran down her spine as she tried to remember whether or not bears were known to live in the area. She suddenly felt very uneasy. Her hands trembled slightly as she fixed the leash to Hugo's collar and pulled him close. She wanted to get out of this damned, lonely field. For a split second she considered her position before jumping over the stonewall right into Mr Lakeshore's field. Crossing the field would be the quickest way back into town. She tried to fight the feeling of being watched as she suddenly tripped over a bump on the ground and landed with a painful yelp flat on her face, dragging Hugo down with her. Dazedly she sat back up, spitting out wet earth. Patting a frantic Hugo soothingly on the head she looked for the obstacle that had caused her fall, heart hammering frantically. She found it merely an arms length away from her left foot.

It was a small bundle, covered in filth. She was just reaching out to examine it as she realised that it was moving – breathing! Summoning up all her courage she flipped the thing over to have a better look.

It was a boy. A small boy with light brown hair plastered to his head. His eyes where closed and he wore an almost peaceful expression. Abby breathed a deep sigh of relief. For a moment she'd thought…

She knew the boy, she realised. She saw him almost every morning at the café where he went with his mother. But what was he doing here, all alone, that early? Had he been camping? Had he run away from home? She grabbed the boy's shoulder and gave him a small shake to wake him up. He didn't move. The uneasy feeling from before started to creep back on her. His skin was cold, so cold and so white. She bent down and carefully picked him up.

And that was when she noticed all the blood.


A/N: Don't you just love cliffhangers? But don't worry, I won't let you hang for long. In the meantime you could always read The Adventures of Little Moony Mooncalf since this chapter practically is a sequel to it (as mentioned above) - don't forget to leave a review! Love you for reading but love you even more for a quick review.