The Begining Before the Start

The Marauder's Tale

"Are you sure you have everything, dear?" Mrs. Potter asked, squeezing her husband's hand and glancing worriedly at her son. "Robes? Wand? Socks? It gets cold in the winter, you know, colder than we're used to, and-"

"Yes mum, I'm sure I've got it all," James said hastily. "Of course I know it gets cold in winter. I'm not five. Stop worrying, I'll be fine!" He flourished his wand proudly to emphasize his point. An unexpected spark flew out of the end, rocketing towards the cat carrier atop his trunk and pushing it over. His cat, Graceling, yoweled, his mother muffled a shriek from behind her hands, and his father merely stood there, a mischievous twinkle in his eye and amusement scribbled across his handsome face.

"Oh golly, sorry, Mum." James lunged to grab the carrier and replaced it atop his trunk.

"You can't just go waving that around all over the place!" Mrs. Potter scowled, grabbing the wand firmly from James's hand. "You'll poke someone's eye out! You'll poke your own eye out! You'll blast your own eye!"

"Oh, lighten up, dear," Mr. Potter said. "He's just a boy."

"Yes, well, a boy can easily get himself into quite a load of trouble."

"Believe me, you don't need to tell me that." Mr. Potter gave James a wink.

James carefully ignored him, and flashed his mother a brilliant grin. "I'll be more careful Mum."

"Please do," she said exasperatedly, though she handed James back his wand nonetheless.

They all stood awkwardly for a few moments, each looking at the others and knowing this was goodbye. Mrs. Potter was obviously a wreck, a few tears escaping as she fussed over her only child. James didn't hold it against her. Mr. Potter, however, appeared calmly normal. He kept sneaking James a wink when his mother slipped into one of her "you had better behave" or "don't get into any trouble" lectures, which she was doing quite often. She seemed to be trying to fit in as many as she could before James boarded the Hogwarts Express.

James was experiencing a storm of anxiety. He fidgeted anxiously as his mother patted his scarf. What if he wasn't Sorted into Gryffindor? Worse, what if he was put in Slytherin? His Gryffindor parents would accept it, but they'd be disappointed. Mrs. Potter often told him how great red looked on him, and how awful green did. What if his roommates turned out to be awful gits? What if he was terrible at his lessons? What if all the girls thought he was a swine? He pushed away his mother's hand. That would never happen. He had never had trouble making friends before, and was determined not to start now.

Mrs. Potter began fussing with his perpetually messy hair while James's brown eyes roamed the 9 3/4 Hogwarts Express platform. There were a few familiar faces, but whenever he spotted someone he knew, the ocean of strange witches and wizards quickly swallowed them again. A young, dark-haired wizard standing a few feet away caught his eye. The two boys made eye contact, and James was suddenly very self-conscious of his mother trying to flatten his hair with her spit.

"Ew, mum! Stop it!" he said, swatting her hand away. He glanced at the boy. The boy's dark hair was similar to James's, but longer and cut to suit his sharp angles. The boy smirked, nodded his head, and looked away.

"What is it with you Potter boys, and your unmanageable hair!" Mrs. Potter turned to her husband with an exasperated look on her face. "I swear, his is just like yours, dear. And I'm told your father's looked just like that, too, as a boy!"

Mr. Potter snuck James yet another wink. "It runs in the family, I guess."

While his mother was distracted, James quietly snuck away to the black-haired boy. If the two had already acknowledged each other's existence, they might as well introduce themselves. James held out his hand and gave the other wizard a mischievous smile. "How ya doin'? Name's James! James Potter."

The boy took his hand eagerly. "Sirius Black," he said. "Yeah, I know, it's an odd name."

"No, I think it's cool, actually," James said, dropping his fake accent. "I mean, as long as you're not actually a serious person." Sirius didn't say anything in response, but James liked the look in his eyes. "Say, where're your parents?"

The smile in Sirius's eyes immediately vanished. He jabbed his thumb over his shoulder, pointing to four rather tall adults standing not too far off. They were obviously two couples, and all shared a resemblance to Sirius, as well as to each other. A small boy who looked very like Sirius stood awkwardly by his mother's side. "The two on the right are my mum and dad," Sirius said. "The other two are my aunt and uncle. They have a kid in Hogwarts, too."

"You have any siblings?" James asked, not finding much interesting about Sirius's parents.

"Yeah. A little brother. He's the boy standing next to them. You?"

"Nah, only child."

Sirius smirked. "You look it, too."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Nah, nothing," Sirius said quickly. "Just that by the looks of your mom spitting on your hair, you seem quite pampered in her hands."

At this, James laughed. "Kind of reminds you of a monkey, huh?" He took a closer look at Sirius's appearance, and felt a little guilty. Sirius was nicely dressed, in a fine satin black shirt and matching blank pants, but his shock of straggly black hair was a mess and his shirt was untucked. For the past five minutes of their conversation, his parents had hardly glanced at him. He didn't seem like a pampered boy, or even one whose parents paid much attention to him at all. That didn't make sense- what parents wouldn't care for their eleven-year-old child?

"Hey, what year're you?"

"First. You?"

"I'm in third year," James lied, then puffed out his chest and stuck his nose in the air. "I know all about Hogwarts."

Sirius didn't look convinced. "Third year, huh? What's your house?" he asked, smirking.

"Oh, I'm so special, they made up an entire new house for me," James said. "It's called Dragendorf. My animal is a Horntail dragon, and the colors are white and black. It knocks all the other houses on their butts."

"Yeah, well, I'm a Mudblood," Sirius said. He was smiling now as he played along. He nodded in his parents' direction. "They're just pretending to be wizards. You should have seen them go through the wall."

"If you're a Mudblood, then I'm a Squib," James said. "I only got here by accident."

Both boys continued bantering, each coming up with lies more ridiculous than the ones before. It wasn't until Sirius was trying to convince James that he was a boggart who was tired of scaring people and looking for a job at Zonko's Joke shop that the train whistle blew, signaling five minutes before departure.

James turned back to say something to Sirius, but before he could, Mrs. Potter rammed into him and trapped him in an embrace.

"Oh! James! I'm going to miss you so much," she said, amid an attack of kisses on his head.

James felt heat rise to his cheeks as he tried to wriggle free. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Sirius suppress a howl of laughter.

"Hey, I'm going to board. Should I grab a compartment?" Sirius asked, looking unsure if James would want to sit with him or not. "I want to hear more about Dragendorf."

James beamed, half because he meant it, and half because he wanted Sirius to feel comfortable. "Yeah, go ahead. I'll catch up in a minute."

As Sirius smirked and bounded up the train, wheeling his cart with one hand and holding an owl cage in the other, James noticed that the closest he got to his parents was a quick wave from the door of the train. He was kept busy enough by his mother's farewells that by the time he escaped, Sirius's parents had already turned to leave and people were beginning to stare at his mother. "Ow! Mum! Let off!"