Four of them.
James, Sirius, Lupin and Peter.
That was the way it was.
That was the way it always had been.
The cheeky one, the devilishly charming one, the shy, reserved one, and the one that was an under-estimated genius when it came to sneaking around undetected.
The Marauders, as they were called, were well known for their pranks, antics, and 'fun' that other people would call idiotic and dangerous. Everywhere they went, they attracted stares; from the moment they first set foot in Hogwarts; right until the 'graduation party' that saw the most dazzling firework display and the most creative weeks' worth of pranks in history.
At least, that's what the witnesses would tell people.
One frosty February morning, the four fifth year boys, after having scrambled down the stairs from a very long lye in (they were half an hour late – again) tumbled through the doors into the great hall, and sat down in their usual spot to grab whatever breakfast was left. Sirius, who was still supressing a yawn, had his collar up round his ears, and his tie hung around his neck, waiting patiently to be wound into the correct spot. James found after gazing lazily at his goblet, that, on closer inspection (him holding up the goblet to check out his reflection), his messy unkempt hair was even worse than usual. How was that even possible? Remus smirked ever so slightly and retained his calm composure; he had been awake for a good two hours and spent the last one trying to get the boys out of bed. Peter still was half asleep, quite literally it seemed, for twice Remus had to abruptly halt his head from falling into his cereal.
Ah, the joys of late night marauder scheming.
As James devoured his toast, he glanced over to his left slightly and saw who he was looking for. There she sat, calmly reading the daily prophet, luscious red hair tumbling down in waves, a dreamy expression on her face. For once in her life, she was not scrutinizing the paper as she normally did, picking up on the latest news in the wizarding world, but relaxing, and not seeming to pay any attention to what she was reading at all.
Thinking this would be the moment; James cleared his throat and spoke in the most confident, charming voice he could muster.
"Hey Evans".
"No" was the simple reply.
"Hey but…."
"Still No Potter" she said defiantly.
"How did you know what I was going to ask?" he said smugly.
"Potter please, you've asked me the same question about ten times a day for the past year and a half, the answer is still no." And with a devilish smirk that could actually match Sirius', Lily turned back to her newspaper.
"When will you go out with me Evans?"
"When hell freezes over" was the reply that came from behind the large sheets of paper.
It's funny how two people who argue so much can end up falling so deeply in love with one another.