A/N: First fic. if you have a problem with drugs, dont read this. if you have a problem with other adult themes, don't read this. that's why it's rated M.

Chapter 1

He was looking down a dark road. A suburb of some sort, it would seem, but it was so much more than that. He could feel ancient magic around him. Children, apparently muggles, ran to and fro, from house to house across the street. Carved pumpkins grinned menacingly, their flickering candlelight filled him with dread.

Suddenly, black cloaked figures push past him on either side, headed for a house on the left side of the street. The street lights began to flicker and dim, the moon was obscured with clouds. Young children screamed. The dark figures did not slow down. He drifted along behind them, unnoticed. The world around him began to speed up.

A menacing cackle… A flash of green… a woman screaming…

James hit the floor with a grunt. He had awoken in a cold sweat, a dark series of emotions swept through him, and his episode was over just as quickly. He pulled on a plain white tee shirt and headed out of his bedroom door, scratching his head.

What had happened in the dream? He remembered it being dark, there had been a girl… had there? It was like trying to hold smoke in his hand. James shrugged off any ill feelings and began the descent to his kitchen.

Sirius was already at the table. He was dressed in a black bathrobe. Beneath it he wore an undershirt and gym shorts, and on his feet were a pair of worn slippers.

"Oy, decided to join me?" he grinned.

"Yeah, give me a cigarette," James responded. He accepted the fag Sirius offered him. After pouring a cup of coffee, he grabbed a section of newspaper that had been discarded on the table. "You read this article about the Jameson muders?"

"Yeah. He was an auror, you know. A damn good one, too, from what my uncle Alphard's told me. He put up a good fight though, eh? Not much more you can ask from a bloke, he did his best. Took as many as he could with him."

"Dark times, these," James quirked back. They looked at each other and grinned. No amount of bad news could keep James Potter and Sirius Black down for long. They spent the remainder of breakfast discussing Quidditch, and whether or not Sirius was going to try out for the recently vacated position of beater.

"Come on, mate, you know I'll be captain this year. 'Snot hard to make the team when your best mates in charge, now, is it? Just kidding, you're good enough to make the spot without my help."

"I'll never measure up to Babbins, though. Picked by the Harpies, right out of his 7th year and all. He's making bank, you can bet, and you could be too, mate, if you keep at it.

After eating they played Quidditch in the garden for a while. Anyone who did not know otherwise would assume that the two boys were brothers. They were very similar on the surface, very compatible, but they were two very different boys.

James Potter came from a long line of generous and noble witches and wizards. His father had been an advisor to the Minister, in addition to being one of Dumbledore's strongest supporters in the fight against Grindewald. Harold Potter was getting on in his years, though; he and his wife preferred to spend time at the property they owned Italy during the summer. James himself was a skilled wizard, one of the best in his year. He was tall and wiry, he had a terrible temper, but it could not be denied by even those who disliked his arrogance that James was a good person.

He had messy black hair that couldn't sit flat, not that he would want it to. He wore it short, shorter than Sirius did, so that it did not draw attention away from his shining hazel eyes. He had a rigid jaw-line and a defined form. James liked to be noticed, it was obvious by the way that he walked and carried himself.

Sirius Black had a demeanor similar to that of many who have been betrayed, abandoned, or mistreated at the hands of their own flesh and blood. He was emotionally reserved with everyone except for James. Sirius constantly acted out against any authority around him, he did not need a reason. He was quick to pick a fight, he never backed down from anything or anyone, he never snitched, and he always ended up getting what he wanted.

His hair was jet black and smooth. His gray eyes showed the only emotion of any part of his body. Over-drinking and smoking and added a harshness to his voice beyond his young years.

James and Sirius were alike in many ways. They were both charming, and they both knew it. This created a slight personality problem in that they became overly arrogant and cocky to the point of rudeness. In the end, though, the fact was, they got more tail then any other boys in Hogwarts.

When they had finished flying, they put their brooms away and hurried inside.

"When do you think he'll be here?" Sirius asked James, much like an eager son would ask his father.

"He said he'd floo over as soon as he could. He might've had a rough transformation last night, you know. I'm sure we can find something to do to kill time." James grinned. He went to his room, grabbed an old cigar box, and carried it down. He pulled out a cigar and his wand. He dragged the tip of his wand along the crease in the tobacco leaf, and it unwound itself carefully. Sirius began grinding up the nuggets out of his bag on the table. In no time, the two had rolled a mean blunt to share while they waited for the company of the third leg in their tripod, Remus Lupin.

By the time they had roached the blunt, green flames had burst into the fireplace, and Remus had stepped out of it.

"Moony! How was it without last night, mate? Sorry we couldn't make it," Sirius apologized sincerely.

"It was nothing, don't worry about it," Remus answered. "Everyone has to deal with their problems sometimes. You lot look toasted enough, then, have you got any more weed?"

"Come on, Remus, don't insult me like that," said James as he pulled a box out from under the table.

Remus smiled. Hanging out with James and Sirius sure had its perks.