A/N: This is my first fanfiction novel, and I'm really excited to write it. It started off a little bland, and I probably shouldn't have made the mistake of publishing it right away, but now I'm re-editing it and it's coming back a lot better. I hope you enjoy it, and please review!

Forever Young

Chapter 1: The Beginning

In the many years that Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry had been alive, no pair like James Potter and Sirius Black had ever entered the castle. From before they even entered the castle, it seemed, the two were inseparable. In the years to come, their friendship would make history for being the most unique and extraordinary bond Hogwarts had ever seen. Like brothers, the two boys strode into the school, ready to take down any obstacles, to show the school and the world the kind of people they could be, to prove their strength and independence, and succeeded. They walked out, seven years later, almost the same way, and it's said that Professor McGonagall shed a tear or two. Without even taking into consideration how unique the boys themselves were, their family backgrounds made the relationship between the two even more incredible. Both pureblood, from known and respected families, the Potters, for their Gryffindor pride and great anti-Dark Arts work, not to mention jovial personalities and spectacular hospitality, stood at polar ends from the Blacks, who were strict Slytherins, extremely dismissive of and uninterested in the ordeals of others, and paying great respect to all things Dark. In those times, it seemed impossible to consider that two people from such divergent upbringings would be able to even regard each other, let alone become friends. James Potter and Sirius Black certainly proved those thoughts wrong.

The very first time the two boys, at eleven years of age, stepped onto the Hogwarts Express, the conductor swore that he heard sparks flying. Not literally, of course. Just before 11 o'clock that September 1st, two very interesting boys arrived at Kings Cross Station on Platform 9 ¾. James Potter, young, excited, and surrounded by family, was impatiently trying to get away from his mother on one side of the platform. She was hugging him, ignoring his vain attempts at escaping, and when he finally pulled away, she tousled his hair with a laugh. After straightening his glasses and running a hand absently through his hair, James proceeded to lecture his mother childishly on the reasons why mothers should not publicly hug their sons, while Mrs. Potter listening in amusement.

"Mum!" he cried. "Quit it, would you? None of the other mothers are slobbering all over their kids! It's embarrassing!"

"But James, what are we going to do without you? We don't have any other baby boys to turn to for our slobbering. We'll be so bored at home, with only magazines to read and the garden to tend, and no crazy pranks to liven up the day," she teased.

"Stop it, Mum. That doesn't fool me," James said as Mr. Potter approached them. "You still have Cam, and she'll keep you busy. That's for sure," he snickered, looking down at his nine-year-old sister. She was holding Mr. Potter's hand, bouncing up and down, looking absolutely thrilled to be there, as if nothing would give her more joy than to board the train. He knew, though, that his parents would always be busy. Lately, his father's Auror work had involved much more strenuous and demanding work than simply filling out trivial paperwork. While Mr. Potter never showed any of that strain, James could always see it in the new bags that had formed around his eyes and the gray hairs that were slowly showing in his father's dark brown. On the other hand, Mrs. Potter's cheery face never faded, but James knew her new promotion in the Ministry of Magic's Department of Magical Law Enforcement was giving her plenty of grief. And, even without the heavy burden of work, the Potter family was enormous, more than enough to fill up every spare moment Mr. and Mrs. Potter had.

On top of all that, the Potters spent a good amount of time with their neighbors, the Benedicts, who approached them now at King's Cross. The Benedict couple was slightly younger than Mr. and Mrs. Potter, which could be gathered from the complete lack of wrinkles on Alexandra Benedict's rosy face or, as Mrs. Potter liked to tease her, her "unknowing, naïve eyes." With her came her husband, who held the hand of a girl James's age, and two older boys. The Potters and the Benedicts had become very close friends living next to each other for so many years; the Benedicts had moved into the manor next door around the time the oldest Potter was born, James's brother Harley, almost seventeen years ago. "They come from a good family," Mrs. Potter always said, "especially Al. Her family, the Prewetts, have been promoting anti-Muggle discrimination for decades, you know," to which James would always respond dully, "I know, Mum."

His mother always made a big deal of collaboration between Muggles and wizards, because, James assumed, she dealt with many cruel pranks against Muggles in the Improper Use of Magic Office. She had even made the effort to send all her children to Muggle school for two years before going to Hogwarts, claiming that she "regretted her mother never did that for her." James never really understood her obsession, but he accepted it, for there seemed to be no reason not to.

"Hi there, Maddie," Mrs. Benedict said, nodding and smiling at Mrs. Potter. "Are you ready to let James go?"

Mrs. Potter laughed heartily. "Let him go? I think the appropriate question is, am I glad he's finally leaving?" she teased, ruffling James's hair again and ignoring his protests.

Chuckling politely in response, Mr. Benedict said, "Not to worry, James. Your mother will miss you dearly. Don't lose any sleep over it." James nodded at him tersely, and turned to the Benedict's daughter. Mr. Benedict always made him feel slightly uneasy, perhaps because he always dressed like a posh shop mannequin, complete with choking tie. If those mannequins could talk, they would talk like Mr. Benedict, stiffly and politely. James always wondered how a woman as friendly and comfortable as Mrs. Benedict could possibly enjoy spending her life with someone so boring and formal.

"What's up, Charlie?" James muttered, still casting annoyed glances at his mother.

Wearing a broad smile, Charlotte "Charlie" Benedict nearly jumped in the air with the enthusiasm in her answer, her small brown ponytail bouncing vigorously. "What's UP?" she cried. "What's UP, James Potter? What's up is that we're going to Hogwarts!" She was squealing now, and James covered his ears.

"Stop being such a girl," he mumbled, receiving a solid punch in the arm. "OW!" he yelled, and then grinned sheepishly at Charlie.

"I'm sorry," she said mockingly, "I thought that, being a girl, that wouldn't hurt."

He scowled playfully, moving to punch her back, until his parents stopped their oncoming brawl with booming laughter. "Come, now, James, there's no way you can possibly hurt her," Mr. Potter chortled. "We all know what a baby you are." This brought a round of laughter, making the pink in Mrs. Benedict's young face rosier than ever, and even Mr. Benedict offered a smile.

James grumbled quietly under his breath for a moment, to the amusement of all the adults, before finally turning to Charlie and grabbing her arm. "All right, Mum, Dad, I'm leaving." He turned and walked a few paces; his walk had a bounce of anticipation in it. Charlie and her two older brothers followed. Before stepping on the train, he turned to call back. "And I'm NOT a baby!" His parents let out identical shouts of laughter and 'I love you's as they waved as he and Charlie ran up into the train.

Watching the exchange with mild interest from the other side of the platform stood a young Sirius Black, who didn't have to deal with the embarrassing display of affection from his mother. Rather, after a few, short words, Mrs. Black sent him up on the train.

"Be smart. Don't get cocky with your fellow Slytherins. And don't get too much into their business. We Slytherins prefer to remain private. Now go." It was not an affection dismissal, and it surely did not hold the words "I'll miss you" or "I'll write you" in it. It was an order, and in the Black house, orders were followed without question, and conversations were not to be held. At the moment, however, Sirius was no longer in the Black house.

"Bye, Mother. Bye, Father. I'll write to you often," he replied, earning him a shocked and reproachful stare from Mrs. Black. Sirius hurried to the train, and turned back just in time to see his parents Apparate from the station. He shook his head and muttered, "Typical" to himself, and without a second thought climbed onto the train. Of course, he hadn't expected his parents to wait and wave to him, but as he was leaving for almost the entire year, Sirius had at least hoped they would see him board the train. Always a quiet and caring boy, Sirius had tried on countless occasions to express his affection towards his parents, and failed every time. After he turned nine, Sirius had almost completely accepted that it wasn't in his parents' nature, or anybody's in his family, to be affectionate or emotionally expressive at all. Sometimes, and he kept this a hushed, dark secret, Sirius had sudden urges to yell out and whoop like nothing else. He had felt that way when he had received his Hogwarts letter, and instead of letting his euphoria escape him, he snuck out to the hilltop past the town with his brother Regulus and watched distant fireworks. Although he had no idea what the fireworks were for, they represented quite accurately his inside feelings, and were an excellent outlet.

Now, as he left the Black household, along with the anxiety in his stomach Sirius felt an odd sense of freedom. Perhaps he could remake himself here. Perhaps among the Slytherins and other students his age he would be able to be more like the person he wanted to be, the person he felt inside of him dying to get out. As he stared at the spot on the platform where his parents had been standing, the train began to chug away, and Sirius made a solemn vow that he would have friends at Hogwarts to whom he could reveal his actual self.

Almost every compartment in the train was crammed with enthusiastic first years; Sirius could tell which students were destined for Slytherin from their severe or haughty behavior. Some even wore robes adorned with green, and he recognized that they found themselves too pure for Muggle clothing. Sirius himself was wearing black robes, embroidered with the Black family crest, with trousers and a buttoned up shirt underneath. From day one his family had told him relentlessly of his purity, authority, and honor. Sometimes Sirius felt as though they itched to add the word 'royalty' to their list, but they only ever implied it. Mrs. Walburga Black never failed to remind him that he was better than their neighbors, the Muggle filth that they kept themselves concealed with. Someday, she said proudly, they would uncover themselves to these very neighbors and show them who was superior. The rest of his family believed in these same ideals, and it appeared so did the students in the compartments he was looking at. He knew his mother would want him to enter these compartments, but he still avoided them. Sirius spotted an almost empty one, and without a second thought hurried inside.

The same boy he had been watching earlier, James, was sitting in a lazy fashion across from another boy and a girl who were talking quietly. Sirius plopped himself down next to James.

"Hi," he began.

"Hey," James said. He was fiddling with his shirt, and Sirius smirked.

"Bored?" he asked.

James laughed. "I guess so." He paused for a moment, then looked Sirius directly in the eye and said, "I'm James Potter."

"Sirius Black."

It was the beginning of a beautiful brotherhood.

Two other first years, a boy and a girl, sat across from James Potter and Sirius Black in their Hogwarts Express compartment. They spoke in hushed tones, sharply contrasting James's and Sirius's raucous laughter and chatting. Although the boys did tease the two, once the boy and girl left the compartment, James started a rant about how breathtakingly amazing she was.

"Wow! Sirius, did you see that? She's…wow. Her hair and her eyes and…wow. Just…wow."

"Better think up some real adjectives if you plan to ask her out, mate."

"What? Ask her out? You mean like a date?"

Sirius shrugged.

"Ew," James continued, "No way, mate. Dating is weird."

Offering a smile, Sirius said, "She's a Muggleborn."

James gave him an odd look. "Yeah, so?"

"Just saying, she is."

"Are you telling me not to date her because she's a Muggleborn?" James sounded almost threatening.

Putting his hands up, Sirius responded, "I didn't say that, Potter. I-I only made a comment." He wasn't looking James in the eye.

"It seemed like more than a comment, Black," James hissed. Before Sirius could think up a retort, the compartment door opened, revealing a small girl with a brown ponytail and oversized robes. "Charlie," James said, sounding surprised. Taking in the sight of her, he grinned. "Whose robes are those? Bigfoot's?"

"Bigfoot?" Sirius asked curiously.

"Muggle story," James replied off-handedly. He paused, then said, "Not that you would know anything about those."

The comment stung like a slap in the face. Sirius turned pink, feeling ashamed that he had said anything at all. In his home, the sight of a Muggle-born person would have caused Mrs. Black's upper lip to curl in disgust, and incited whispered insults from his other family. Here, James Potter was acting like simply noting the existence of a Muggleborn was unacceptable, even immoral. Come to think of it, his mother had mentioned the Potters once or twice in the household, along the same line as the Prewetts, as respectable purebloods with straying views. Anytime the Potter name or the Prewett name appeared in the Daily Prophet, Mrs. Black would shake her head and murmur, "Such a shame, losing such noble families."

"James," Charlie chastised. "Why are you being so mean to him? He's obviously upset."

"He was insulting Muggles," James snapped.

"I wasn't!" protested Sirius. "I just—all I did was—was say that that girl was a Muggleborn! I'm sorry if that's rude."

"It wasn't just rude," argued James, shaking his head. "It was horrible! How can you say it like that, that just because she's a Muggleborn means she should be pointed out as different. Nobody points to you or me or…or Charlie," he cried out desperately, "just because we're pureblooded. Who knows, she could end up becoming more successful than any of us. It's not blood that makes a wizard—no, a person great, it's their own intelligence, skills, and goodness." He was quoting his mother, with a firm tone, and he crossed his arms to reiterate his determination.

Silently, Sirius pondered the boy's outburst. As he reflected, he remembered vaguely some family members of his who had flunked out of Hogwarts. An aunt had tried to mend the Wizarding law to allow Muggle hunting as a sport. Plenty of people in his family were jobless, though they never had to suffer for it due to the Black family's immense wealth. James's words were true, he realized, blood had little to no importance in every sense.

"I-I'm sorry," Sirius said in a small voice. For a moment he felt more miserable than ever. There was no way he would be able to open up at Hogwarts now. Maybe he had been better off choosing a Slytherin compartment, where at least he would have been accepted.

"It's all right," James replied softly. Sirius looked up immediately, surprised. "Just-just remember that, all right?"

The dark-haired boy nodded, completely shocked that James had accepted him again. Now looking at him laughing with the girl, Charlie, Sirius felt a smile growing inside him. Perhaps the Slytherins would have taken him in gladly, but in his gut he knew these two in this compartment were the people he wanted to accept him.

"What's your name?" Charlie asked him, grinning broadly.

"Sirius Black," he responded, smiling back with almost as much enthusiasm.

After the delicious feast which many of the students were still buzzing about, James and Sirius were up in the Gryffindor boys' dormitory getting ready for bed. Sirius, nervous about being placed in Gryffindor but delighted to be with his new friend, chattered in a hyper frenzy about his family life. Never before had he spoken so much at a time. Of course, there were many times when he had wanted to, but the chance was never given. His family's mantra was, 'Speak less, listen more,' as they droned on about the differences between Muggles and wizards, Muggleborns and Half-bloods, and the children listened. They never spoke a word of affection; life was all business, no pleasure.

Having only seen the friendly and amicable lifestyle in his home, and partly the same life in the Benedicts' home, James was shocked that any family could be like the one Sirius described. Mrs. Potter had only mentioned the Black family a few times, and every time it had been with a hint of anger and disgust. James knew they were pureblood supremacists, the encounter with Sirius in the compartment had shown that, but he also knew that everybody deserved an even chance, with no biases or prejudices. He had given that to Sirius, and the nervous, wide-eyed boy had ended up the first in his family to be Sorted into Gryffindor.

"No one ever tells jokes? Never?" James asked incredulously.

Sirius shook his head, relieved that James didn't agree with their lifestyle. He didn't know how he would have dealt with a roommate who lived like his family. Once again, he thanked Merlin that he had been placed in Gryffindor.

"And no pranks? No practical jokes?"

"No, mate. Never. It's like living in a giant prison or something. Actually no, Azkaban would be better," Sirius guffawed mirthlessly. He fell silent for a moment, thoughtful. "Well, I suppose they're not all that bad," he said, almost to himself.

It took a while for Sirius to slowly drift off to sleep, his mind was muddled with thoughts of his mother and how disappointed she would be. Rebel though he was, it did give Sirius a slight pang of guilt in his gut to disappoint his family by straying from the path they so strongly emphasized. He tossed and turned for about an hour, until a loud grunt from James startled him, and he pushed his thoughts forcefully aside and let sleep take him.

The next morning, to the great dismay and anguish of James and Sirius, lessons began. Moping into the Transfiguration hall, they cast their eyes lazily around the room. Sirius's thundery gray fell upon Professor McGonagall, registering her as a stiff, proper old woman. One of his urges overcame him, and he suddenly felt the need to laugh uncontrollably. Whenever Sirius saw an old, stiff-looking man or woman in his family, he had always wanted deeply to play a practical joke on him or her, just to see them squirm. Secretly, he hoped it would make someone, anyone in his family laugh. James's warm hazel, on the other hand, fell upon the girl from the train, in the front row almost bouncing in her seat, her dark red ponytail bouncing along with her. His eyes glazed over, until he started in reaction to Professor McGonagall's piercing voice.

"Are you two planning on joining the lesson anytime soon? We'd prefer this year, you know," she said, pursing her lips.

Sirius grinned. He was at Hogwarts now, away from home. Now was the perfect time to change the person he had been with his family into the person he really was. He was right; McGonagall would make an excellent target. "Of course, Professor," he said in the most sugary voice he could manage, and winked exaggeratedly at her, earning a reproving glare. James looked over at him, slightly surprised. They traipsed to the front of the hall, taking their time and tapping their feet loudly as they walked, and settled into seats in the front row, to James's delight, next to the girl from the train.

In the middle of Professor McGonagall's lecture, James leaned over and whispered, "Hello, I'm James Potter. Do you remember me from the train?"

The girl turned her head, looked at James, and sighed. "Lily Evans," she replied curtly, and turned back to look at Professor McGonagall. James stared at her, fascinated by her rapt attention.

"Aren't you bored?" he asked in awe.

She didn't turn her head this time. "No, and you should pay attention, too. It's an important subject." At this, James looked away, but couldn't focus on the lecture. Amazed by Lily Evans, he stared into space, filling his mind with daydreams. Unfortunately, they were broken sharply.

"…James Potter?" Professor McGonagall asked.

James was caught off guard for a moment, but responded back within a second. "I'm sorry, Professor, could you repeat the question?"

"Were you listening, Mr. Potter?" McGonagall's lips began to thin.

James grinned. "Well, you see, I was trying, but it's very…difficult to pay attention when you're dressed so flawlessly."

The glass snickered, Sirius offered him a high-five under the table, and James turned to smirk at Lily Evans. She didn't meet his eye.

When the class was dismissed, James droned away in Sirius's ear about how amazing Lily was. "Her name is Lily, mate, Lily! She's just so…so…" his voice faded.

"Again, mate, adjectives."

Suddenly, James spotted Lily Evans walking some few feet ahead of them. "Oi! Lily! Liked my wit in class?"

She stopped in her tracks, and turned to walk up to the laughing pair. "Transfiguration may lack any significance at all to the both of you imbeciles, but I personally find it intriguing and a very important subject to learn. There is no need to disrespect a professor the way you did, and you disrupted the class in which I could've been learning. In short, no, I did not like your wit in class. See you, Potter," she hissed, and stalked away, leaving James open-mouthed and shocked.

Sirius gave a low whistle. "Well, mate, I guess it's good you didn't waste adjectives on that."