Author's Note: You know the saying, "If wishes were horses, then beggars would ride"? Well, if that was true, I'd have a lot of horses as far as the Marauders are concerned…
A wicked grin spread across James Potter's eager features. His large mahogany eyes glittered with unconcealed laughter. His unruly dark hair was even untidier than usual. He rumpled it again in his excitement. The Master of Revenge was about to unleash, as Professor McGonagall normally put it, "preposterous tomfoolery", as only the four Marauders of Hogwarts could.
The four Gryffindors in question were the best of friends. As good friends often do, (especially these) the Marauders loved to pull pranks on each other and carefully selected victims. Each joke was a work of art-not a trifle to be wasted on just anyone. Together, the masters of mischief could make the impossible possible with magical ease.
Oh, Remus and Sirius were going to pay.
The reasons behind James' thirst for vengeance were justified for World War III-in his opinion at least.
You see, it all started earlier that morning…