My first Marauder Era/Slash fic – so be kind. I wrote this on an impulse in reply to some of WinButler's fics. This first instalment was read at a Christmas party to fellow fans, I now hope to continue it. Let me know what you think.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

The lanterns flickered and hissed as James Potter strode purposefully down the empty passageway, wand held aloft in front of him. The soft light emitting from the tip was bright enough to light up the immediate area surrounding him, picking out portraits and stationary suits of armour as he passed by. He was too busy dwelling on plans for the Marauders' next outing whilst working on a good excuse for the lateness of his unwritten essay for McGonagall. Late night parties and trips under the invisibility cloak, combined with quidditch practice and pursuing Lily Evans, did not tend to leave much room for homework. James grinned to himself, remembering a rather excellent flying practice the previous evening that culminated in a shy smile from Evans.

Skitter-skatter

James gasped and spun around on his heel at a sudden noise to his left. His tensed shoulders slumped as he spotted the source of the sound: a mouse peering out of the nearby suit of armour belonging – according to the inscription – to the nineteenth century witch, Jodie the Jubilant. He sighed, annoyed at himself for getting scared, and relieved that no-one had been there to witness his cowardice. He ran one hand through his mussed-up hair, not bothering to try and flatten the constantly upright quiff at the front; he hated doing night-time prefect duty.

"It's not even like it's my duty anyway," James muttered to himself, irritated. "What could be so important that Remus has to be excused his duty every four weeks?" He kicked at the suit of armour to relieve some tension.

Jodie the Jubilant did not take too kindly to this treatment and fell on him.

SCRASHTER!

It took James a good couple of minutes to untangle himself from breast-plate and scabbard, eventually able to reach his wand. Muttering to himself about "back pockets" and "bloody statues", he flicked and swished the wand:

"Wingardium Leviosa"

The pieces of metal flew from off him, hovering a few metres above. Another flick and a muttered "Reparo" and Jodie the Jubilant was once more complete and leering over him in her customary position.

Getting up, James dusted his knees down and made to carry on with his patrolling. And it was at that precise moment that he heard the sound that would forever change his life.

ggrrrrraaaaoooowwww

A low humming growl was coming from a door hidden just behind the suit of armour. James stopped dead in his tracks as the first curious noise was replaced by a second: a keening whimper. Not being able to resist his curiosity, the young Gryffindor crept up to the door and put his ear flush to the wood.

From inside there came a slight panting occasionally accompanied by a strange, muffled scraping. James desperately wanted to investigate further; he could feel the regret already burning him up if he were to walk away now. Once again lifting his wand high, he whispered "Alohomora" and tapped the lock on the door.

Silently, the great wooden portal swung open, revealing a chink of strange light from within.

Peering around the gap, James took a deep breath and entered the room. The sight that struck him practically took his breath away.

The room was dimly lit apart from a bar of silvery moonlight coming from the dust, stained-glass window. It cast an eerie glow on everything it touched: the ripped curtains hanging from the window-rail; a worn, old armchair with ripped upholstery; strange gouge marks in the wooden floorboards. Everything about the room spoke of old age and decay, and yet James sensed that the rips and tears in the fabrics were somehow more recent additions to the dilapidated furniture. Taking in everything the light touched, James turned his head to scan the rest of the room.

He stopped still as he saw shivering, shuddering form that leant hunched over a broken table.

It was evidently human, and probably male, though it was difficult to tell. The trousers, if that was what they were, bore rips around the knees and a slit that ran all the way up the back of one leg, revealing pale skin beneath. The remnants of a shirt clung to its backed, ripped almost in two; it hung like the curtains at his sides. The body beneath rose and fell with heavy breathing, and James could make out almost every vertebrae beneath the sweaty skin.

The lighting and the vulnerability of that creature made the scene before him somehow indescribably and yet hauntingly, beautiful. Having forgotten to breathe, James suddenly needed air and gulped it down nosily. The creature spun around in fright and stared at James.

Tears were streaming from the stricken and scarred face. There was fresh blood around the mouth, and sweat-slicked hair was plastered to its forehead. The dark eyes gleamed out of hooded lids, and in them, James sensed a strange recognition.

He gasped.

"Remus?"

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

To Be Continued...

R & R please!