A Marauder's Thoughts

James Potter

In the dead of the night, amidst the strident rumble of snores that echo throughout the room, a scrabbling can be heard. James Potter is leaning over the end of his bed, feet entangled in the crisp sheets and glasses askew, rummaging through his trunk. He lets out a small gasp of triumph as his fingers wrap around something silky and smooth, reveling in the feeling of the soft material as it runs through his fingertips. He climbs out of bed and yawns, the breeze that filters in through the open window hitting his bare chest and causing him to shiver.

Stepping over a rotten apple core and two pairs of dirty underwear– if there is one thing the occupants of this dorm are not known for, it's cleanliness – James pulls the invisibility cloak over himself, dissolving into the darkness like sugar into a cup of tea.

As his feet, clad in a moth eaten pair of grey socks to which James is far too attached, pad along the corridors, he marvels at how different the castle under the cover of darkness. He's travelled the hallways after curfew many a time before, sneaking around with his fellow Marauders, but he's never had the time to appreciate its true beauty before. Everything seems so calm, so peaceful, without the resonance of footsteps created by students stampeding from class to class, chatting excitedly among themselves. People would be surprised to know that James prefers wandering the corridors when they're empty, because he can just be himself, without having to live up to any of the classifications given to him by fellow students – 'ineffable sex god', 'prankster and troublemaker extraordinaire' and 'class stud' among them. Despite contrary belief, James Potter isn't perfect; sometimes he just wants to be just like everyone else, ordinary and plain. He wants to be able to show that he, like everyone else, is scared of what the future will bring without being mocked for it.

James creeps through the doors that open out onto the grounds, wincing slightly as the door creaks. He pulls the invisibility cloak off, leaving it curled in a small pile underneath his favourite beach tree, which he begins to scale, delighting in the coarse feeling of the leaves against his skin as he nestles into a nook high up, overlooking over the lake.

This tree doesn't only hold happy memories, for under this very tree he and Sirius once tortured a fellow classmate, Snivel-Severus. James remembers the feeling of elation and power that he felt while watching the poor boy struggle with a mouthful of bubbles, and he smiles. But then he remembers the feeling of shame that had washed over him like a wave as he sat in Professor McGonagall's office, chewing on a Ginger Newt. As he'd realised how helpless his victim had been, he'd felt a pang of remorse, an emotion new and unfamiliar to him. Now, when he looks back on the incident, he's almost tempted to say that Lily Evans was right about him that day, that he was an 'arrogant, bullying toerag.' Not that he'll ever admit of course, for he has too much pride.

James plucks a thread from his fraying pajama shorts, and twists it around his finger, pondering his love for his fellow Head Girl and Gryffindor. Everyone asks James what it is about Lily Evans that he fell for. Sure, they say, she's pretty, what with her long, curly red tresses and sparkling green eyes that look like jewels, but she's also quite sardonic, and she has a very sharp tongue about her. Sirius has much to say about Lily, loathsome and anal retentive being two of the nicer descriptions.

Lily's face appears in James' thoughts, so clearly that he can see every dimple as he continues to wind the thread around his finger, ignoring the fact that it is cutting off his circulation. It's not how sexy she is (although, he must admit, something about those curves drives him wild), it's the little things; the idiosyncrasies that make her unique, such as the way she clicks her tongue loudly when she's studying, or the way she always smothers her macaroni and cheese in pepper. It's the fact that she's an oxymoron – she always snaps at him for mocking the Divination professor, yet, at times when he's been observing (not stalking, just observing) her, he's heard her criticise the crazy old bat. Everything about her, while it isn't perfection, intrigues James. He feels a throbbing pain in his finger, and realises that the end of his finger is now an unattractive shade of purple. Waving his wand at it, he vanishes the string, before promptly sticking the finger in his mouth to suck away some of the pain and climbing out of the tree, ignoring the fact that the bark is scraping skin from his back, peeling it away in strips.

Hitting the ground with a thud, he pulls off his socks, longing to feel the soft grass. The blades wedge themselves between his toes, tickling him and causing him to laugh. As he walks, he thinks about how much he's changed, and about how, finally, Lily is starting to notice. He's been a lot more responsible this year – not hexing innocent first years for the fun of it, not disrupting students attempting to study, not letting off Dungbombs in the corridors just because he's 'bored and in need of entertainment.'

Lily has noticed the changes in him, he's sure. She smiles at him – and it's not the leer that means she's dreaming of castrating him with a blunt knife. That smile warms his heart, because he knows that she's finally accepting him. She even calls him James, not 'Potter,' or 'arrogant prat.'

James continues to wander along, the moonlight illuminating his path past the edge of the Forbidden Forest. It's nearly a full moon, he notes with relish, and he will be able to transform for one night only. He never thought he would find anything more relaxing than flying but he has – becoming a stag. All the worries and fears he feels about everything just seem to fade away as he sprouts fur and antlers, and he's able just to enjoy being liberated for a few hours. Of course, it's dangerous, running around with a werewolf, but, over the years, James, Sirius and Peter have convinced themselves otherwise, and now just think that it's an integral part of Marauder life.

The Marauders … when James first started at Hogwarts, he doubted he would ever make such good friends, even though he came from a respectable family and knew many children with parents in the Ministry. It only took a burst bottle of shampoo, a rather frantic owl and a packet of Sugar Quills to change that.

Everyone thinks that the Marauders are perfect, that there are never any rifts between them. How deluded those people are, James thinks, the Marauders are just like any other seventh year guys, just a little more popular. James remembers the end of last year, how tense everyone was after the 'incident', as it was always referred to. The only reason the Marauders remained friends after that particular incident was because Moony, despite having every right to be mad, had patted Sirius on the back and said everything was fine. He knows he is lucky to have such great friends, and he knows that he can never describe how much they mean to him. Looking down at the watch he's stuffed in the pocket of his pyjama shorts, he notices that it is nearly sunrise and that he ought to be getting back to the castle.

James scurries past the Quidditch pitch, heading towards the castle and a few hours sleep before breakfast, when he hears that familiar voice, the one the Marauders all dread.

"What are you doing out of bed? If only the Headmaster would let me hang by your ankles in the dungeon."

James can only think of two words to describe his situation: "Oh shit."

a/n (01/04/08): Welcome to A Marauder's Thoughts, in which I plan to create a character sketch for all four Marauders as well as Lily. This fic was recently nominated for an Hourglass Award, in the category of Best Gen Fic, so lots of hugs and kisses and everything else for whoever was awesomecakey enough to nominate me, and for everyone who leaves a review, whether it be gushing or filled with concrit. ;) This story has also won Two Reviewers' Choice Awards at the Reviews Lounge (which you should all check out, btw), for Best Canon Story and Best Drama/Tragedy/Angst story. I hope you guys enjoy this as much as my previous readers have, and please, do leave a review, it really would make my day.

Cuba ...x