A/N:  Here's my first idea for a Harry Potter fiction.  It's a history of the Marauders, particularly focusing on James and Sirius.  This is sort of a secondary focus.  I've got all the plot written out, but non of the filler, and it  differs quite a bit from what was revealed in OotP.  This will get worked on, but at a much slower pace than 'House of Black.'  Please bear with me, and I hope you enjoy.

Shuffle

Prologue

            You're born.  You die.  In between stuff happens.  That's life, always changing, always moving.            

            Like cards in a game of chance.  We fall wherever fate places us, move without control.  Like a gambler.  We play with whatever hand we're dealt and try to make the best of it.

Funny.  Never really thought of myself as a gambler in my younger days.  Don't get me wrong, I won my fair share of cash playing exploding snap until all hours of the night.  Course, usually that was because… well… I cheated.  Don't look so shocked.  What did you expect, that I'd let myself lose?  Sorry, I'm not… I wasn't… that kind of boy.

Things change, though.  Sometimes you think you know where all the cards are, but it turns out someone mixed them all up.  Someone shuffled the cards when you weren't looking and bam.  You're down five galleons.  Sometimes, when you're playing for bigger stakes, it's a hell of a lot worse.  Sometimes, winning is everything.

Turns out, that's usually when the deck is stacked against you.  Once, I wouldn't have believed it.  Now… I dunno.

Hah, here I am talking like an old man.  I guess I am, in experience if not in years (though I bet the kids at Hogwarts would say I've got the years, too).  Azkaban ages you in ways that even charmed wrinkle cream can't touch.  It's in the eyes.  I know Remus sees it, and Dumbledore.  Even Harry, though I try my hardest to hide it from him.  He's just a kid, really, despite everything he's done.  Too many people forget that too easily.

Not much to do here, so I've taken up playing solitaire.  Hermione sent me a deck of Muggle cards by owl once.  Said she was worried exploding snap would scare Buckbeak.  Harry's lucky to have her as a friend.  She's a smart girl, kind of reminds me of Remus in that quiet, studious way.  She also sent a little book on how to play different games, realizing I probably wouldn't know how use a Muggle deck.  Most of them needed two people, and somehow I doubt that Buckbeak's hooves would be up to holding cards.

Solitaire.  A game of chance.  However the cards fall, that decides your game.  I guess in a way, we're all gamblers.

Chapter 1

"Sirius Black, is that a book I see you reading?"

Sirius scowled at his long time friend.  "Some of us haven't got all seven years worth of material memorized yet, you know."

Remus just chuckled, dropping down onto the large couch beside the other boy.  "That's a bit of an exageration, isn't it.  I don't really remember all that much."

Sirius just rolled his eyes.  "Oh, sure.  Who else but you would know that nose wiggling charm of yours?  That's got to be the most obscure spell in existence."

"You mean occular velico?"  Remus snorted.  "Well, it was useful wasn't it?  I mean, if I hadn't made Professor McGonagall's nose twitch so much she didn't notice us, we would have had even more detentions under our belt."

"I just have to wonder what kind of wizard invents a spell for nose twitching.  At least I know now what kind of poor sod actually researches it."  He snatched Remus' half-heartedly thrown pillow out of mid air and tucked it against the couch's arm.  "And thanks for the pillow, mate.  These cushions were getting a bit hard on the old arse."

"Maybe if you put some meat on those sharp bones of yours, you wouldn't have that problem."  Remus lay down, 'accidently' putting his feet on top of Sirius' book.

Sirius swatted them away.  "You're one to talk, Moony old pal.  I'll have you know that I plan to earn my first million by the time I'm twenty-one, and I'll have seven course meals twice a day from then on.  I'll be as fat as dear old Fudge by the time I'm twenty five!"

"Ah," Remus agreed sagely.  "I'm sure that'll come about." 

"You don't have to be bitter, you know," Sirius scolded.  "I'll be glad to share my hard-earned wealth with the Marauders.  You can have seven course meals too."

Remus held up his hands.  "I was agreeing with you.  N.E.W.T.s making you a bit touchy are they?"

"Touchy my arse." Sirius growled.  "Sod off you wanker."

Remus backed off.  He knew Sirius wasn't really mad, but he knew his friend's short temper.  Hell, he was rather intimate with it, being on the receiving end more than a few times.  Instead of replying, he put his feet back up on the couch, out of Sirius' lap, of course, and closed his eyes.  The fire crackled, its warmth and sound friendly and comforting.

Sirius went back to his book, trying hard to keep his eyes open.  Remus was right, he was a bit touchy from the quickly approaching N.E.W.T.s.  Where had all the time gone?  It seemed like a week ago that he had slipped a few exploding snap cards into Snape's cauldron during their first potions class.  Seven years had just flown by, and now, here he was.  And he hadn't studied.  Ever, it seemed.  He held his head in his hands and groaned at his own stupidity.

Remus opened his eyes at his friend's sound of despair.  "You're not wishing you had studied more, are you?" he asked.

Mutely, Sirius nodded.

Remus gazed in wonderment.  "You really are worried about these tests."

"What was your first bloody clue?" Sirius snapped.

"Well, this way its only…" he checked his watch.  "Two weeks, three days, fourteen hours and some odd minutes of cramming hell.  If you'd started studying before this, it would have been seven years of misery."

"At least I would have passed after those seven years."

Remus shrugged.  "Don't worry about it.  You're a lot better of a wizard than Peter.  If he passes you're sure to.  And I don't think he's even worried about it."

Sirius sighed.  "I suppose you're right."  He closed his book and stood up, stretching.  "Well, come on then.  Let's go get some dinner.  I think James and Peter should be getting to the dining hall soon."

· * *

Peter, it turned out, was worried about his N.E.W.T.s.  He was pestering James so much over dinner about what he was doing wrong with his weasel-to-slinky transfiguration spell that James finally threatened to dump a bowl of mashed potatoes and gravy over the smaller boy's head if he didn't give him an hour of peace.

"Really, Wormtail," he was saying when Remus and Sirius came to sit with them, "you'd think they were asking you to go up against Voldemort himself instead of picking up a quill and writing down a few answers and doing a few charms."

Peter's face blanched at the mention of You-Know-Who's-You-Know-What, but Remus interrupted him before he could stutter out a reply.

"You too?" he asked, pulling out a chair across from James.  "I swear these boys think that N.E.W.T.s are the end of the world."

"Oh no," James groaned.  "Don't tell me Sirius…"

Remus just nodded gravely.

"Now wait just a minute," Sirius broke in, "I'm not worried.  Who said I was worried."

"You did, actually." Remus reminded him.  "Just a few minutes ago.  In the common room, remember?  Or did someone put a memory charm on you as we walked down the stairs?"

"I really don't know what you're talking about." Sirius winked at Rosemary Anadine as he reached for the shepherds pie.  "I think all that time in the hospital wing has completely fried your brain."

Rosemary, true to form, giggled happily at Sirius' flirting, turning to her friends and whispering excitedly.

"Good god," Peter mock-whispered in James' ear, "he's at it again."

"Maybe you'd better try your repugnase charm on him," James suggested with a wicked grin.  "Bloody hell, Sirius, you don't have to kick so hard."

"If you try anything, anything on me at all, I'll turn you into cremed custard and eat you for dinner."  Sirius waved said cremed custard around for emphasis, the cup's contents coming dangerously close to sloshing over the sides of the bowl onto Remus' head.

Remus grabbed a hold of the threatening arm.  "Spill that on me and I'll turn you into Severus Snape," he warned.

"You wouldn't dare!" Sirius exclaimed.  "I'd grease you to death with my hair if you did.  That reminds me, did I ever tell you about the time I saw Snivellus cook french fries with his hair grease… it was disgusting, I tell you, absolutely disgusting…"

Remus rolled his eyes.  "Here we go again," he mouthed at the two sitting across from him.

Luckily, they were saved from a long-winded rant on the evils of Severus Snape by Dumbledore himself.  Rising from his seat, gray beard still spotted with the remnants of the shepherd's pie he'd eaten, Dumbledore moved in front of the table and cleared his throat, waiting patiently for silence before he spoke.  Very soon, all eyes were turned to him and all conversation had drawn to a close.

A great big grin broke out on Dumbledore's face.  "Thank you, thank you all for your attention," he said enthusiastically.  "I have very exciting news.  As you all know, finals are rapidly approaching, and all you seventh years will soon begin your NEWTS."  He had to pause as groans broke out all around the dining hall.

"Thanks for ruining a perfectly good dinner," Peter grumbled under his breath.

Sirius nodded sagely.  "If that's good news than I'm a yellow-nosed paddy-sniffer.  Don't say it, James."

James just grinned and kept his mouth shut.

"Now, we have a wonderful treat for you.  Tomorrow after classes, in this very dining hall, we have many representatives from different wizarding companies coming to give you all a chance to see what kind of lives there are after Hogwarts.  I know that now, at the end of the year, it seems like there is nothing else besides your classes, but there is in fact a life after Hogwarts and this is a great time to see what kind you want to lead.  For you underclass wizards and witches, this is an opportunity to see what interests you and how to use your education here to get there.  And for you seventh years, many of the representatives are here to interview and recruit, so some of you could even be landing jobs."

"Even if we don't pass?" a voice from the Hufflepuff table shouted.

Dumbledore smiled even broader.  "I have no doubt that all of you will do exceedingly well.  You are an excellent group of academics… at least, I hope you are.  I might be confusing you with my Algerian Algebrarian Chimpanzees."  He scratched his head vacantly before continuing.  "Well, anyhow, I hope to see you all here tomorrow after classes and please, be on your best behavior while these representatives are here.  That means, of course, no dungbombs in the halls and no impassable charms on the toilet seats.  Thank you."

"Was he looking at us when he said that," Peter asked as Dumbledore returned to his chair. 

"Of course he was," James exclaimed.  "He knows that was us, even if he can't prove it."

"Oh, yes, we are good, aren't we," Sirius said proudly.  "I wish I could have seen the look on Ms. Buttleburr's face when she tried to use the toilet."  

"You know, that charm is supposed to be used as a shield against bodily harm from weapons."

"Oh, Moony, it's got so many other more practical applications," James argued.

"Yeah," Sirius agreed, "like toilet seats and doorways… besides, when was the last time an ogre came out you with a mace?"

"Last week.  Actually, it was Daisy Brixton with a Magical History textbook, but she looks like an ogre.  I just thought I should point out to you the real reason for the spell.  I don't think you'd get credit on the NEWTS if you answered 'the impassable charm is best known for its use in blocking toilets.'"

"I'd bet on points for creativity," James said, reaching across Peter for a roll.  "Aw, bloody hell, I was going to eat that."  The rolls, along with the rest of dinner, had apparently decided that meal-time was over and disappeared as quickly as they had come.  They were replaced, however, by row upon row of pie and cake and pudding.  James forgot about his lost roll soon enough, as he dug with relish into a strawberry rhubarb pie. 

Sirius, Remus had noted, had hardly touched his dinner.  Subtly, so as not to attract their friend's attention, he poked Sirius in the side with his fork. 

"Sod it, Remus, do I look like a bloody carrot to you?"  Sirius roared.  Of course, Remus should have known better than to try subtlety with Sirius. 

Luckily, James and Peter seemed to be engaged with their pies at the moment.  Or something more sinister, which Remus didn't even want to consider.  Whatever absorbed their attention, Remus was glad for it.  "You're not eating," he pointed out. 

Sirius shrugged.  "I'm worried about these bloody N.E.W.T.s, you know."  His voice was only a whisper and he looked around worriedly as he said it.  "You won't tell anyone, will you?  I can't have it get out that I, Sirius Black, am worried about something related to school."

Remus couldn't help but laugh.  "Don't worry.  I won't tell.  But you know, I hear fish helps stimulate the brain.  That and lots of sugar and caffeine.  You should try it."

Sirius smiled back, and it looked a lot less forced than it had before.  "All right, all right, I bow to your superior knowledge, Moony.  Stop worrying."  He looked over the table and picked up a slice of bread pudding, digging into it with relish.

Remus smiled, looking at his own slice of pie with relish.  Food was something he usually didn't pay much attention to, but, quite frankly, Hogwart's feasts were good.  Not to mention they were more food than he usually saw in a month when at home.  Everything would be alright.  He had wonderful friends, both smart and practical, who despite their rather flighty nature would allow no harm to come upon the Marauders.  He could relax with the knowledge that whatever the future, whatever the civil wizarding war, could bring, the Marauders would weather it and would emerge whole.  This was the truth, he felt it in his heart, and the wolf inside him howled in agreement.

The pie was delicious as he bit into it…