Meeting the Marauders

Or how Mr Evans was forced to spend Christmas with four raving lunatics, had his life turned upside down and was forced to make his precious daughter go on a date.

Prologue

Every fathers pride and joy is their children and for Mr Evans of 64 Mills Crescent it was no different. He loved his daughters more than anything in the world. Even (miraculously) more than football or treacle tart. Before he became a father life had been simple, very simple. He lived a happy life with his wife. He woke up every day at the crack of dawn, ate his breakfast (preferably bacon on toast), walked past the old mills, down Spinners End (the bad side of town), and then finally after a turn by the old church he would reach his garage. He was a mechanic and he loved it- cars were his passion. Every day he would come home and enjoy the evening with his wife; whether gardening or merely watching T.V- anytime spent together was heaven.

Mr Evans had minimum worries.

Then she got pregnant. And suddenly life changed; he needed to pay for baby clothes, and baby food, and baby nappies and then just when he thought Whew! Petunia's starting school, she was pregnant again and so he had to go and buy baby food and baby nappies and baby everything again. Not that he was complaining- he loved his daughters, loved coming home to them, picking them up from school… twirling them in the air.

He loved watching them grow up.

The one thing he dreaded however, more than anything, was the day his daughters would go from girls to women. The day when boys were not things to run away from. The thought had made him shudder. He had been sitting at his nieces wedding when he first realised that he would one day have to take his daughters down the aisle; as his niece opened her mouth to say I do he suddenly thought I remember her as a baby, then my Gosh time's gone fast, then looking at his daughters he thought one day that'll be them. And since that day he had feared, above all else, the day he would have to admit his little girls were not his little girls anymore…

Unfortunately for Mr Evans that time had now come; his daughters though not getting married, were now closer to womanhood than childhood and the thought sent a chill down his spine -which was why on one cold winter's afternoon he stood pacing his living room floor. He could not for the life of him seem to stand still. Not that he blamed himself; any father would be pacing just as he was; up down, up down. If his wife had still been alive she would give him "the look" and he would sit. She wasn't here however and so he had to carry the burden himself, hence the pacing; up down, up down.

His elder daughter, you see, was dating a certain Vernon Dursley. Vernon was rich, obnoxious and very boring. And yet after the previous days meeting with the boy and his daughter it seemed that one of these days he would indeed, be destined to get a walrus for a son-in-law.

And there was nothing he could do about it.

He shook his head at the memory of Dursley stretching across the table for a fifth piece of chicken, whilst telling him about his company; Grunnings. He shuddered then when he remembered the "loving" look his daughter had given her boyfriend.

He wished there was something he could do to make her see that Vernon Dursley was not someone she should be considering to spend the rest of her life with. But… he couldn't, because as much as he might have hated to admit it the Whale made her happy, and ask any father and he'd tell you that was the only thing he wanted for his daughters; happiness.

So if it meant he had to smile at bad jokes about Brazilian golfers and show interest in drills, he would. He would also however dread the day when Vernon bloody Dursley decided to ask for his daughters hand in marriage. Until then however, he would hold the belief that Petunia would grow to see sense. After all, one could hope.

Glancing at the time Mr Evans resumed his pacing, only this time thinking about his younger daughter. Thank god, she didn't have a boyfriend yet, well…at least he hoped she didn't. She had been mentioning that James Potter a lot in her letters home but…that was not altogether surprising. After all, James Potter had featured in nearly every one of his daughters letters home from her first year, no what was surprising was, instead of "he's an arrogant, obnoxious, big headed..." or "I can't believe Potter would dare…" her letters were now filled with sentences beginning James and I this and James and I that.

It was driving him mad.

When he had asked his daughter if there was something between her and this James Potter fellow she had said he was mad and assured him James Potter was merely her fellow head and a close friend.

That hadn't stopped him wondering just how "close" they were.

Nevertheless, Lily had yet to bring home a boyfriend for him to wring out which could only mean she wasn't serious about any one as yet. A thought that made him want to jump in joy- like any father he would prefer it if his daughters were locked firmly away from those "animals" called boys. He knew what they were like (he had been one after all) and he thought he would get much more sleep if they were kept far away from his precious daughters. Perhaps he should consider sending Lily to Christian convent? The thought of Lily's reaction to being sent to a convent however, quickly dispelled this thought. Lily could breathe fire if she was angry. Oh well, he thought, hopefully that fire is enough to keep boys away.

Regrettably for Mr Evans, Lily may not have been bringing a boyfriend home for Christmas but she was bringing a boy, in fact four boy-friends or perhaps it would be better for his nerves to say four friends who happened to be of the male species. Yes, that was better, much better. In fact he thought pausing his pacing, perhaps he should see this as a positive thing- at least he would get to meet these friends, assess who was dangerous to his precious daughter, make it clear to them how close to his daughter they could get and then let them leave happy in the knowledge that they really were just friends.

Yes, that was the plan. Give the boys a friendly heart attack; let them help him keep his baby girl boyfriend-less for as long as possible.

He rubbed his hands together excitedly, a smile on his face for the first time in hours. In the back of his mind he could see his late wife shaking her head at him; ignoring the image he went to the kitchen; he thought he deserved a beer after that brain wave.

Unknown to the gleeful Mr Evans the boys coming were known as the Marauders, four boys known to give people heart attacks not have them themselves. Nor did he know that in a few short hours it would be them giving him the orders and he would be forced to partake in a plan to make his single daughter go on a date…

A/N-I hope you enjoyed this as much as I enjoyed writing it. If you did please review and if you didn't still review- let me know how to improve it! Next chapter should be up tomorrow (hopefully).