A/N: The characters of Lily Evans, Remus Lupin, Peter Pettigrew, Sirius Black, James Potter, Frank Longbottom, Alice Prewett, Albus Dumbledore, Severus Snape, Minerva McGonnagal, V.Dawg, Andromeda Black/Tonks, Ted Tonks, Nymphadora Tonks, Arthur Weasley, Molly Weasley, yada yada yada, Don't belong to me and This story is in no way affiliated with warner bros. BLAH BLAH BLAH. I don't make money off this, so it's legal. Onwards now. I thought it would be REALLY important for me to let you know that this is my FIRST attempt at fanfiction.
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CHAPTER ONE: EARLY BEGINNINGS
November 1966-An increasing number of mysterious disappearances have been ocurring across Europe, and now rumors of dark activity are beginning to surface. Could the wizarding community be facing a threat as seriousas that of Grindelwald? Turn to page B3 for details.
Aren't they done yet?" Anabelle Lupin threw the newspaper down onto a clean, varnished wooden table, wringing her hands in anxiety. She paced the small room, soft leather shoes silent on the carpeted floor. Looking at a reception desk, she read the small sign hanging above it; "St. Mungos hospital, creature-induced injuries ward". The desk was currently empty, as was the rest of the room save for one person-her husband. "Roger, what do you think's taking them so long?" She peered out the small square window at the full moon, which was partially obscured by clouds.
"I don't know, I really don't." Roger Lupin ran a hand through his greying hair, staring determinedly at the sterile white-tiled ceiling. The Lupins had a young son whome they loved a great deal, named Remus. Remus had been born and raised on the Lupins' country farm, and was now six years old. However, tonight, he had gone out to play, and come back with a sizeable chunk taken out of his leg. Quite the shock for his elderly parents. Now all they had left to do was wait, wait in the hospital for results from the healers...
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Hundreds of miles away, in a rather dingy sector of Liverpool...yelling and anguished shrieks rang through the halls of a small, unfurnished house, as a pale boy sat in his nearly-empty bedroom, knees drawn up to his chest, crying silently. Hearing his parents rowinglike this was a common event in the Snape household, but when you were only six, this was a bit much to deal with. Choking down a sob, Severus pulled his limp, greasy black hair out of his face, hooked nose running unchecked.
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As we move along to Kent, the atmosphere changes dramatically. A little girl sat at a picnic spread in a park, admiring her birthday presents, beaming at her family. She gestured at a large cake, looking to her elder sister imploringly. "Can you cut it, Patty?". 'Petunia' had been a rather difficult word for the young Lily Evans to pronounce, so she had been 'Patty' ever since. Petunia, however, was currently feeling jealous at the amount of attention Lily was getting, and wasn't in the mood for being nice.
"No I will not cut the cake for you, I'm not your servant." -At which point the cake promptly exploded in her face.
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Only two miles away, another family was outside. A pair of grandparents gazed adoringly at a somewhat chubby little boy with mousy-brown hair and small watery eyes. After staring intently at the ground for a moment, he picked up a piece of chalk and scrawled his own name on the ground;Peter. Standing up to admire his handiwork, he tripped on a piece of chalk and plopped back down on the ground. Fhwup.
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Fhwup. Fhwup. Fhwup. A pillow hit the ceiling of a dark and dingy room, thrown by a boy lying on his bed. A shaft of light filtered into the room through the torn curtains, throwing his face into sharp relief. Black hair fanned around his face as he lay there, fathomless grey eyes trained on the ceiling as he launched his pillow. If there was one thing that made this boy a black, it was that once he decided he didn't like something, it was final, and he did NOT like being a Black. There was simply no talking to the kid when he got like this.
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"James!", came an exasperated cry from the quiet community of Godric's Hollow. "James, dear, come down off the coffee table." Six-year-old James Potter had clearly had more than enough sugar that morning. Having nicked his father's wand, James was currently standing on the oak coffee table, wand in the air, glasses sliding down his nose. "I'm a lizard", he sang out into the house, causing his mother to laugh, plucking the ecstatic James down off the table. Picking up a copy of the Daily Prophet, she read the headline and flopped down on an easy chair, eyes suddenly tight with worry. This was not a good time to raise a child in. Gazing at the now-giggling James, she wondered what the boy would go through, simply for living when he did.
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Sunlight poured into a rustic ground-level bedroom, highlighting a calendar opened to August 1971. Perched on the edge of a squashy bed was eleven-year-old Remus Lupin, who was picking at a scab on his arm with apparent interest. "That'll scar nicely", he muttered to himself. Truth be told, Remus was feeling less than optimistic about school. His parents were in the kitchen, talking to the new Hogwarts headmaster, Albus Dumbledore. Due to , his parents were worried about whether or not he would be able to go to school. He absently tugged at a lock of sandy hair, contemplating the only bit of conversation he had overheard, something about 'violent shrubbery'. Whatever. he rolled over, noticing red stains on the sheets. So, he had picked his scabs too much again.
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A pair of weathered canvas shoes hit the pavement in the streets of Liverpool, carrying a silent Severus Snape as far away from his family as he dared go. They had been rowing again, and his mother was looking rather ill lately. Severus had been carrying the burden of someone twice his age, and it was showing. He had become quite antisocial, preferring to take long walks alone. He was jerked out of his reverie, however, by a large feather something hitting him in the back of the head. A large feathery owl, to be precise. Having relieved the owl of its letter, he looked it over, and smirked. So he would be leaving. Perfect. A glint of ambition sparked in the elven-year-old's eyes, convinced that he may be able to make something of his life after all.
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"Can you pass the Cheerios, Patty?" Eleven-year-old Lily Evans sat at the kitchen table of her Kent home, watching her decidedly normal family. Her mother was washing the dishes, her father, picking at a plate of scrambled eggs, and Petunia...well. Petunia.
A clanking sound signalled the arrival of the daily post. "I'll get it!" Lily called, springing to her feet. As she returned to kitchen, a letter adressed in emerald-green ink caught her eye. "Hey mum, I got a letter, look at this, 'Ms. L. Evans, the kitchen...'"
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"Oh, Earl, our Peter's got his letter!" The full (and extended) family of Peter Pettigrew surrounded him, patting his head, ruffling his hair, pinching his cheeks-pretty much babying the boy, who, in all honesty, looked terrified. Nervous enough, at least, that he had tripped and fallen into the immense girth of his father. Fhwup.
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Fhwup. Fhwup. Fhwup. A pillow hit the ceiling of a dark and dingy room, thrown by a boy lying on his bed. Sound familiar? It should. Sirius Black had changed very little. He still looked the same, still resented his family, and still-SMACK. An owl had flown through the open window and hit the tossed pllow. Oops. Checking over the owl, he untied the letter it had been carrying from its leg. He gave it the briefest of glances and a smile lit his face. "Excellent, a ticket out of this dump," he thouight to himself, throwing the letter, face-up, onto his bed. If one cared to read the adress, they would find this. "Mr. S. Black, the attic bedroom, number twelve Grimmauld Place, London."
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A pair of urgent whispers wafted up from the living room of a small house in Godric's Hollow. It appeared that the son of this pair had gotten the letter accepting him into Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, but due to recent events...did they want him to go? Their choice was made for them, however, when eleven-year-old James tore down the stairs gleefully. "It came, didn't it? It finally came! Tell me it came!" James had calmed down a bit over the years, but in the last weeks before school, he had been rocketing about the house, anticipating his acceptance into Hogwarts.
"Yes, dear, it came."
James, ecstatic, punched the year. "YEAH, I'm a liz-er.. a wizard!"
His parents exchanged worried glances, and looked down at that day's Daily Prophet. An eerie symbol, a skull with a snake protruding from its mouth, leered at them from the front page.