A/N: Hi. I'm back peeps, with a venngence and a brand-new Marauders' fanfic! It's a beautiful thing ladies and gents. I will also be revamping my older fanfic. So without further ado, my dear peoples, here is chapter one of The Strangers (vol. 1 of 7)!
Chapter 1:
It was half past 5 o'clock in the afternoon. James Potter sat on the front porch of their summer home, chucking Dungbombs across the yard, aiming at nothing in particular. He hated the summer house. There was nothing to do. There was never anything to do.
Actually, there was plenty of stuff to do; he was just not allowed to do those things. Eleven-year-olds couldn't fish in the lake out back. Eleven-year-olds couldn't go out to the beach alone. Eleven-year-olds couldn't do anything. He couldn't wait to turn twelve. Then, he would be grown up, and his parents would have to let him do everything he wanted to.
A sharp bark echoed across the lawn. James looked up. His dog was scrapping with a nearby raccoon over what appeared to be a sliver of meat. The raccoon put the meat between its teeth and knocked the dog over the head with its paws. The puppy released the meat with a whimper and watched the raccoon scamper off. James's mother had bought him the Crup a few weeks ago to protect him. James laughed. Stupid thing couldn't even fight off a raccoon.
"Come here, Bogey!" he said, jumping off of the porch. "Come here, boy!"
Hearing James's voice, the dog scurried excitedly towards him, tripping over his tiny paws twice in the process. He launched himself at James and licked his face enthusiastically, his forked tail wagging behind him. They would have to cut it off soon; he was almost 6 weeks old. His parents had promised him it wouldn't hurt Bogey at all. He would never forgive them if it did. Dense as the dog was, it was his only friend at the moment, and James intended to keep him as happy as possible.
"Well, boy, what do you want to do?" he asked. Bogey barked and picked up where he had left off. James picked the dog up and held him away. "I meant besides licking my face. Are you hungry? Do you want food?" Bogey barked again. "Come on, let's go and get some food."
James slung Bogey over his shoulder and carried him inside. He strolled into the kitchen and pulled down a plate of leftover food from lunch. He placed it on the floor and set Bogey down in front of it. The dog immediately began chomping down as much food as it could at one time. James sat down at the table and sighed as he rested his chin in the crevice between his folded arms.
"James, darling, are you in?"
"Kitchen, Mum," he said.
His mother drifted into the kitchen, her long silk housedress flowing behind her. She was tall and thin, with pale eyes and silvery curls that fell over her shoulders. She spared him a smile and sat down beside him. "What's the matter, darling?"
"I'm bored!" James groaned. She ran her fingers through his unruly hair. "There's nothing I can do here. Can't we just go back home?"
"Are you really all that unhappy here, my little mucky pup?"
"Yes," he said. He shook his mother's hand off of his head and sat up. "And don't call me that. I'm not a baby anymore, Mum."
"Well, you will always be my baby, but all right," she said, "If you wish." She crouched down beside his chair and turned his face to hers. "James, I love you, and the last thing I want is for you to be unhappy, but—"
James made a frustrated noise and started to turn away; she pulled him back, holding on to his shoulders. "But the new neighbors are coming to have dinner with us tonight. They have a son your age, named Peter, I think. He seems like a delightful little boy. The two of you may get along." James made another frustrated noise and looked away. "Darling, if after tonight you still want to go home, we'll go. Straight away tomorrow morning. All right?"
James sighed deeply. "All right."
"That's my boy," she said, smiling widely at him, the wrinkles of her lined face deepening as she did. She took his hand and stood up. "Come, let me get you washed up and dressed for dinner. You're absolutely filthy. What have you been doing outside all day?"
He looked down at his hands and smiled guiltlessly at his mother. "Oh…nothing."