Disclaimer: If I owned Harry Potter, my computer wouldn't be ten years old and falling apart. All characters and related situations are copyright their respective owners. This is purely a work of fanfiction, for the enjoyment of the writer and reader, no profit is being made from this story.
Author's Note: Okay! I'm replacing the old first chapter with an edited version - my old computer finally caved in and broke, and the entire first and second chapter went with it, meaning I had to retype this out. Sorry about that. In any case, please review! Constructive Criticism is always appreciated, but flames can toast marshmallows, so the choice is wonderful either way - what ever floats your goat. That said, enjoy!
The Hogwarts Marauders
Chapter I: Neighbors
Godric's Hollow was quite the popular summer hideaway for your average witch and wizard. It had been founded centuries before (although, no one was quite certain as to how many centuries ago, or by whom it was founded) and had always boasted of a group of what were, perhaps, the most dim- witted muggles of the time.
Of course, 'dim-witted' was very much a matter of opinion, for the wizards in residence were always rather fond of the way these muggles were unusually accepting of things out of the ordinary. This was, perhaps, of great fortune, for happenings at Godric's Hollow had always been far from ordinary.
To the Evans family, that which could not be explained was always welcomed and cherised. For, as Mr. Evans always liked to say, "What's the fun in life built around a schedule, Petunia darling?"
Petunia Evans, however, did not seem to care very much for the unending surprises at Godric's Hollow. In fact, she hardly cared for surprises at all. But Mr. And Mrs. Evans stood firm on their decision to move from Privet Drive, Little Whinging. In their opinion, life at Privet Drive was thoroughly unbearable. The neighbors were always intruding on their afternoon tea to gloat over a new job, a new car, the subjects of their pride seemed endless.
Petunia had even met her first boyfriend here at the age of fifteen. His name was Vernon Dursley, and he was a rather robust young man whom had just begun to grow a moustache. Oh yes, Petunia was quite contented at Privet Drive. Her life was just the way she liked it – normal.
For this reason, Petunia was mortified when she'd learned of her parent's decision to move to Godric's Hollow.
"Have you all gone mad?!" She had screeched, after receiving news of the plan to move over supper at Number Eleven Privet Drive.
But despite her best efforts, thirty days later, the Evans family had loaded up their things in a rented moving van and made their way to their new home at Number Four Godric's Hollow, where they were greeted by their beaming next-door neighbors: the Potters.
"How wonderful to meet you! Oh it's so nice to see new faces moving in! I was just saying to Leo the other day, says I, 'Dear, won't it be splendid to meet our new neighbors?' Isn't that right, Leo dear?"
"Quite right indeed, Maggie, quite right."
The Evans family was, to say the least, surprised. Maggie and Leo Potter were positively bubbling with excitement. This was nothing like the neighbors they had left behind at Privet Drive. The change, however, was more then welcome.
"Oh, er...thank you," Mr. Evans began, smiling uncertainly, "Er, allow me to introduce myself. Ourselves, that is to say." He straightened up his collar, fidgeting, and gestured to his wife with a smile that begged for help.
"This is my wife, Tulip, and our daughters: Petunia –" He motioned towards his scowling oldest daughter, "And Lily." And here towards a smaller child who looked quite as taken aback as her mother.
"And my name is Mark Evans. It's a pleasure to meet you." He finished weakly.
The Potters, however, did not seem to mind Mark's inexperience with introductions, for they were grinning all the more broadly.
"Oh and you have children! How wonderful. We've got a boy about your age, you know, he's quite the –" But Mrs. Potter was cut off by a loud voice and the sound of running footsteps on a hardwood floor.
"Mum! Oy, MUM! Have you seen my –" There was a loud crash, and a louder squall, along with a fluttering of wings.
"Ah, there you are, Quill. Never mind!" Came the voice again.
"James! James you come back here! We've got new neighbors and you'll mind your manners and say hello!" Mrs. Potter called back through the wooden door angrily, only to turn again to Mrs. Evans with a knowing chuckle.
"Eleven-year olds, you know how it is. Wild as can be."
Mrs. Evans was saved the duty of responding to this remark as the wooden door flew open, revealing a scrawny looking boy with untamed black hair which went in all directions – Lily Evans assumed this had something to do with the collision the lot of them had just heard, however would eventually come to realize how very wrong she was – and curious hazel eyes framed behind a handsome pair of glasses. And on his shoulder, looking thoroughly disgruntled and preening his wings, was –
"An owl! Well now, there's something you don't see every day! Is he a pet?" Mr. Evans had always been rather fond of animals, however was very much allergic to cats and dogs, so that the Evans family could own only birds as pets.
The owl hooted his disapproval of the term 'pet'.
"His name's Quill. D'you wanna pet him?" And with a devilish gleam in his eye, James thrust a furious Quill towards Lily, who squealed and shrank back behind her mother. By this time Quill had had quite enough. He took off, clucking reproaches at James, and nearly flew headlong into Petunia, who promptly screamed.
Mrs. Potter was all but amused.
"JAMES GODRIC POTTER, IN THE HOUSE THIS INSTANT!"
But James had already high-tailed it back into the house, snickering as though he felt the muggle teasing was well worth any of his mother's lectures.
And so began the Evans family life at Godric's Hollow. Lily always tended to avoid James after this particular incident, judging him to be an arrogant delinquent – a title which she would later discover to be quite accurate. Petunia spent most of her time brooding in her room, or telling her woes to Vernon Dursley over the telephone. Mrs. Evans often met with Mrs. Potter for tea, having overcome their initial hurdle towards becoming friends, while Mr. Evans and Mr. Potter met occasionally, mainly to discuss owls and comment on how intelligent a creature Mr. Potter's own snowy owl; Henry, was.
It was not the most normal of lives, perhaps, but it was fine enough for both families. Things were slowly settling to routine.
That is, of course, until Lily received an odd later, delivered by an owl.