Full Summary: From the first unfortunate meeting to the final prank, James Potter and Sirius Black have been causing magical mayhem at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Here we explore the unlikely bond between four young wizards as told by Padfoot and Prongs themselves. Weaving a tale of teenage love, angst, and most of all, friendship, Padfoot and Prongs tell the infamous tale of their seven years at Hogwarts.

Hello, fellow lovers of everything Marauders. This is a story written by myself (Jennie) and my friend Abby. While getting to know each other, Abby and I have realized that our behaviors match up nicely with those of Sirius and James' of Harry Potter. Her being Sirius and I being James. And since we already had a handle on the personalities and enjoyed writing, we decided to make a Fanfiction! This story highlights some moments from their first year at Hogwarts to their last and alternates the narrator every chapter. Everything that is in Sirius' POV, you can assume was written by Abby and everything in James' POV was written by me. With the exception of this chapter that was mainly written by me with little bits of Abby thrown in there. So it was a collaboration. I hope you enjoy and don't forget to review if you liked it . . . or not. It really doesn't make a difference.

DISCLAIMER: We're Abby and Jennie, NOT J.K. Rowling . . . despite how awesome that would be.

Mischief Managed: A Tale of Friendship

Chapter One

An Unfortunate Meeting: Year One

Sirius' Point of View

It was, at the moment, quite inopportune that I ran into Lily Evans on that first train ride to Hogwarts. Of course, it would later turn out that it was very fortunate for me to have met Evans, but not at this particular point in time. I was scared senseless as it was for various reasons of my own and this stubborn ginger and her greasy sidekick were just not on the schedule for me.

Apparently, James Potter felt the same way because he casted them aside as if they were nothing but pesky flies merely buzzing by his ear. Determination was on his face. He wanted to make these years at Hogwarts the best of his life. What I quickly picked up on from this scrawny, ruffle haired boy was that when he was determined to do something, he literally put every bit of his power into succeeding it. That's how James broke both of his legs, made the first map of Hogwarts meant for mischievous intentions, got said Lily Evans to fall for him, and defied the Dark Lord three times.

With my help, of course.

But I'm getting ahead of myself. We'll get there in due time, my dear friends. To start it all off, I want to tell you more of this unfortunate meeting.
Like I said, it was on my first train ride to Hogwarts. Standing on Platform 9 and 3/4, my mom handed me my trunk, gave me an awkward pat on the shoulder, and sent me off. I turned towards my dad, unsure of what to expect. My father wasn't the most touchy-feely person on the planet. Who am I kidding? He wouldn't hug Merlin himself if given the opportunity.

So, in short, it wasn't really a surprise to me when he simply said, "You better hope you're in Slytherin boy," and then went to leave.

No, I take that back. It was a surprise. I honestly didn't think he'd say anything. You can image the pressure I was feeling. For centuries, my family has always been in Slytherin House. I was terribly scared of the possibility of being disowned by my parents if I didn't carry on the tradition. I had no where else to go if it came down to that. I was the least favorite cousin, nephew, grandson, and son. And frankly, I didn't like any of my family members anymore then they seemed to like me. It was a mutual distaste. But still, and this is the truly sad part, it would appear that they're all I have.

Swallowing the lump in my throat, I boarded the train.

There were kids everywhere, all bustling about with a sense of urgency and excitement. Everyone seemed to know where they were supposed to go and who they were supposed to be with. Everyone had a place where they belonged, close friends were claimed, and groups were already formed. I just had to figure out where I fit in. Again with the pressure.

My anxiety was building. A delicate bubble that was stretching dangerously close to the popping point.
The first compartment I checked had three boys seated in it already, all appearing to be first years as well. I suppose this would be a good start to "making friends."
I sat awkwardly next to a tall, blond kid.

"Hello," he greeted me.

"Hi," I responded. So far so good, Sirius.

We carried on casual conversation, talking about how it was out first year and how nervous we were. The other boys would occasionally catch bits and pieces and interject a sentence or two. I decided that this group wouldn't be too bad.

The train had yet to leave the station and some kids were still saying goodbye to their families. It was some time then that a very small, red haired, freckly boy peaked his head in through the doorway.

He hesitantly asked, "M-may I join you?"

Before I could even consider a response, my new blond haired acquaintance sneered, "Ginger hair, tattered clothes, and an idiotic completion. No, Weasley, you can't sit here."

The boy looked defeated, but left none-the-less. The compartment erupted in laughter.

"Can you believe him? He's lucky that he's not a mudblood or else I would have to pound his face in for simply speaking to me," my no-longer
acquaintance snickered.

My blood started boiling. To be honest, I've never met someone that wasn't a pureblood, but seeing this boy who just wanted to belong - a feeling I know all to well - being treated so unfairly, made my fingers twitch into a fist. I stood up abruptly.

"Something wrong?" Blond haired kid asked me.

"Yes. Something's very wrong with you."

I left and didn't even look back, something I really regret. The look on his face was priceless, I'm sure.

The immense restraint I displayed at that moment astounds even myself. As I look back, I realize that if I had come across that situation now, I would assuredly hex his sorry ass.

I walked until I saw the next available compartment. There were no completely empty ones, but I eventually came across one that held a single first year boy in it. This kid had pitch-black hair that was so messy it made me wonder if it was ever tidy. He had glasses and outstandingly large hazel eyes. He was obviously occupied in deep thought as he stared out the window because I had been sitting across from him for a good five minutes before he noticed I was even there.

"Oh," he exclaimed. "Hi."

This situation started to seem very familiar.

"Hi," I mumbled, staring out the window. Then, it was quiet. Neither of us spoke. You could almost feel the awkwardness in the air. James now always speaks of this exchange as the quietest we've ever been. Our rambunctious reputation has led people to believe that this moment never happened. They believe that we simply became best friends, bonded to the point of brotherhood, the second we laid eyes on eachother. To those people, this moment never happened. But I - being actually there - can honestly tell you that it did. Though I admit, the friendship followed soon after.

"Aaaaanything from the trolley? Anything from the trolley, dears?"

Just then, an elderly woman came past pushing a cart full of candy. She stopped right in front of our compartment and offered the goodies to us. James got up and bought two chocolate frogs, which I naturally assumed meant that he was going to give one of them to me. I watched and waited as he devoured the first, and reached out my hand for the second.

"Oh... uh, did you want it?" James stammered.

"Oh ha, no, I was just... messing...," I say as I look the other way and re-adjust my position. I suddenly became very twitchy and uncomfortable. And so the awkward silence consumed our little compartment once again, only broken by the sound of James savoring the second frog.

"Salazar Slytherin," James muttered.

"What?"

"Oh, its the wizard on-" James never finished the sentence, for at that same moment, a young red headed girl our age came into the compartment and plopped down in the seat next to the window. This was, as you can imagine, quite strange seeing as we had never met before, and what was more strange (and uncomfortable), is that she started quietly crying. James and I didn't know what to say to this girl in our compartment, let alone what to say to this crying girl. She rolled over in her seat and pressed her cheek against the window, obviously not keen on making conversation at the moment. James shrugged and carried on small, insignificant conversations with me. We continued this for a while, becoming more friendly with each other and occasionally even laughing a little. By then we had all but forgotten the girl, until another mysterious guest arrived at our compartment. This time, a boy.

Mystery Man seemed to know immediately who the crying girl was because he stalked right past us to sit next to her. James and I had just started an in-depth conversation about quidditch, so I didn't pay much attention to the visitor. I did, however, catch a glimpse of long, black, incredibly greasy hair, but I shook the crying girl and Mystery Man aside. James must have felt the same way because he barely glanced in their direction.

We carried on this way for a while, both ends of the compartment acting as if the other end wasn't there. It was ignorance bliss and I loved it. Why couldn't the whole world be like this?

My happiness was soon destroyed when a word was said by the other side that could not simply be ignored by myself nor, as it turns out, James.

". . . you're in Slytherin."

Slytherin; the heart of my anxiety.

James' head instantly turned toward the source of the comment; Mystery Man. Needless to say, they didn't get along very well. But through their pointless bickering, I learned that James was hoping to be in Gryffindor, an admirable House choice. He even encouraged me to break the chain of Slytherins amongst my family. And for the first time, I felt like I could, and I felt like I wanted to. I was beginning to realize that James could be a great friend.

This is the moment in a film where the camera would zoom uncomfortably close to my face and fireworks would be exploding all around me. This is the moment when James and I became friends. A story worthy of the history books. Though, later, my going to Azkaban and being remarked as a cold hearted murderer sort of ruined that reputation. Nobody wanted to talk well of me after that. And nobody - nobody - wanted to speak of James and I in the same sentence. Because James earned his spot as a hero in many people's minds. He was only spoken of with admiration and awe. The notorious Sirius Black didn't belong in the same sentence as the great and sacrificial James Potter. So they disregarded our friendship.

But more on that later . . . much later. For now, this is about Hogwarts and our unfortunate meeting with a certain Lily Evans, who actually just walked out of our compartment with her greasy sidekick.

"Can you believe him?" James asked incredulously. "Says he wants to be in Slytherin. Don't worry, mate, you're nothing like him. You're definitely a Gryffindor if I've ever seen one."

I smiled. I smiled because I've now only met one (sort of) Gryffindor in my life (James), and I liked him a lot better than my entire family combined.

And he ended up being an amazing guesser as well. After the train had finally arrived at Hogwarts and the first years had all been sorted into their Houses, I went to take my seat at the Gryffindor table for the first time. Ironically (not really, I did it on purpose), I happened to sit next to the crying red headed girl that we had met on the train. After James and Snivelly argued, she had glared at us before stalking off with the Slytherin following her closely behind like a sad puppy. Upon my plopping down next to her sporting a cheeky smile, she promptly wrinkled her nose in disgust and turned a whole one hundred and eighty degrees away from me.

"Told ya you'd be in Gryffindor," James flaunted as he sat down next to me after also being sorted into the House of the brave. I opened my mouth to respond but was distracted by giggling first year girls staring at James and I. They swiftly looked away blushing when I caught them in the act.

"James," I whispered, "those girls are staring at us."

The black haired boy merely grabbed a piece of toast from the center of the table and started buttering it, not bothering to even glance in my direction as he answered, "And why wouldn't they? I'm extremely handsome."

I burst out into a fit of laughs. But Lily didn't seem to think it was so funny. The eavesdropper spun around to face us and bits of her hair flew into my face, causing me to see red for an entire minute. So I more heard rather than saw her scoff. "Oh, please. The only reason they'd be staring at you is because they're probably shocked that such small glasses could fit onto someone with such a big head."

After her mini tantrum ended, Lily turned around to once again give me a view of her back. I gave James a what-the-heck-is-her-problem look, but he didn't seem to notice. He was too busy gazing at the back of Lily's head as if he was star struck. The determined look crossed his face again. And so the chase began.