Disclaimer: Blah blah blah, I don't own Harry Potter, blah blah, Jk Rowling does, blah blah blah, get over it.
James awoke slowly in his new Head Dormitory, cursing his ill fortune.
Now this wasn't how he normally woke up, but taking into consideration certain recent events this was to be expected.
It was three weeks into the term, and the entire school was still buzzing with the incredible change now set into the Marauders, or as some were calling them now, the Morose-ers.
He sat up, rubbing the sleep out of eyes that were slightly puffy from a few tears that were shed last night. Every day was getting better than the last, but instead of healing the gaping hole in his heart, time seemed to smoothen it out instead. It was like water washing over a jagged rock, gradually working away at it until it was smooth and round.
James glanced over at the finely made broom leaning against the wall and felt a rush of longing for the open air. Longing was good.
Although there was one longing that hadn't gone away in the 6 years that he'd had it. He sighed slightly, glancing at the door to their shared bathroom.
Well, he thought, as long as I'm up, I might as well get ready.
James walked into the bathroom, and for the first time in a long time, took a long look at himself in a mirror. Formerly, he would have said how devilishly handsome he was. But, honestly, he looked horrible. Lank hair, gray skin, diminished muscles, everything James Potter was not. Even if he did look like his normal self, he wouldn't have bragged now. He had been thinking about it for a long time, and with his parents gone, it was time to grow up.
The hardcore Marauder within him shuddered slightly at these words, but acquiesced to the necessity of them. Grudgingly.
He cleaned his teeth with a flick of his wand, and took a long, hot shower, trying to wash away the memories burned into his mind.
He closed his eyes briefly-
Loud laughter, the acrid taste of blood in his mouth, scared beyond belief. He peered through the haze of smoke, coughing slightly, and saw a masked figure staring back at him, jeering him. Whipping out his wand-
James' eyes shot upon, and he leaned against the wall, chest heaving and heart pounding in his chest.
He toweled off and strode out of the bathroom, checking the clock. 5:30. He had time.
James threw on blue denim jeans, a plain white tee and black converse high tops, grabbing his broom before running out of the room hurriedly.
He skidded to a stop in the small common room he shared with Lily, shocked that he had forgotten. Feeling the most buoyant in what felt like years, James jumped onto his broom and opened the window with his wand. Leaning forward, he shot thru the gap, wind whipping his hair as he flew over the grounds of Hogwarts.
The air rushing past him seemed to fill the emptiness, and he felt himself smile. The expression felt strange on his face.
James flew over Hogwarts, weaving in between the turrets, feet sometimes brushing the stonework. The sun was just coming over the mountains to the west, warming him slightly and making his now gray complexion slightly more appealing.
He flew down to the Quidditch Pitch at just over one hundred miles per hour, careful to avoid birds. People would've laughed if he told them he avoided them, but a solid object at those speeds hurt like a hammer to the face. And a kick to the nuts. At the same time. Ouch.
His broom moved seemingly of its own accord, leaning to the left, then the right, sunk into a dive, pulled out perfectly, executed a backwards loop which was halted halfway when James was upside down, then weaved through the goalposts.
James leveled with the field and began a series of complicated movements only the most skilled professional could have followed and understood. They involved a fair amount of flexibility, and loads of strength, balance and dexterity. He was more often off the broom then on it, supporting his weight with a single arm, whipping the broom around him.
After five minutes, he descended to the ground, panting hard. He shook his head, disappointed with himself. His best was 20, but he was so out of shape right now.
James rinsed off in the locker rooms, then changed into the extra set of school robes he always kept in his locker, feeling a brief moment of pride at the engraved plate that said "Captain" fixed above his locker.
He set off for the Great Hall at a slow jog, his breath crystalizing in the air in front of him.
A splash and the sound of screaming alerted James to some commotion near the lake. He altered the course of his jog and came upon a couple of seventh years laughing raucously at a group of sodden, shaken first years, who were climbing out of the lake.
Feeling suddenly reckless, something that James had never been before his parents had gone, he walked proudly over to the seventh years, noting that they were Rodolphus Lestrange and Lucius Malfoy. He could have smiled, payback.
They ceased laughing the moment he came into view, although the cruel smiles never left their faces. James gave looks of disgust to both of them, pointed features and fine blonde hair, and flat-nosed square-jawed short black hair.
Lucius gave an ironic little bow, "Mr. Potter, so sorry to hear about your, ah, loss."
"I would offer my condolences to the loss of your good looks, but you can't lose what you never had," shot back James, not missing a beat.
Malfoy's upper lip curled, but Rodolphus gave a short, demented little laugh. "You're not looking to good either Potter? Ain't that right? Heehee, I wonder why?"
A nerve in James eye twitched, and he whipped out his wand faster then thought, only to find two more pointing at him.
He smiled, no amusement at all in the expression, "Well gentlemen, remember, no crying to your mummies."
"At least we still have moms to go to," taunted back Malfoy.
James' arm shook with the force of his restraint, refusing to be goaded.
Rodolphus looked back and forth between the two who were stuck in identical postures, and gave a dramatic sigh, nonchalantly shooting a banned curse at James.
It missed, hitting a large branch, which was severed completely in two.
James drew his wand in a line parallel to the ground, twisting it up slightly at the end. A small barrier of earth shot up in front of him, about 4 feet wide and 3 feet tall.
Malfoy snickered, and he and Lestrange began walking around the barrier, Lucius going left, Rodolphus going right. "Potter precious Potter, hiding already?"
Still ducking behind the barrier, James pointed his wand where the sound of Malfoy's voice was coming from, and the top section of the rock wall shot toward him, pulverizing itself as it went and striking Lucius like machine gun fire.
Momentarily gaining the upper hand, he sent a corkscrewing silver light at Lestrange, hitting him in the gut. He doubled over laughing, incapacitated for the time being.
James made towards Malfoy, but tripped, losing his glasses. In the time it took him to locate them, Malfoy and Lestrange had mostly recovered.
They began herding him, shooting spells at James, who was forced to block and retreat until he was trapped on a cliff edge roughly 20 feet above the lake.
Rodolphus laughed hysterically, "Going to take a swim Potter?"
For some inexplicable reason, James smiled, true mirth glowing on his face this time. "Wha-?" began Malfoy hesitantly, but James made diagonal slashing motions towards him and Lestrange. The ground beneath the two wizards vanished cleanly, reappearing in the lake below.
They were stuck in midair for a moment, shock on their faces, until the were sent screaming into the frigid water.
James waited until he heard twin splashes followed by strings of curses before answering Roldophus' earlier question. "Not right now, but I might join you later!"
He began to jog back to the castle, and his pace slowed slightly when his adrenaline rush faded.
The Great Hall's breakfast was in full swing when he got there, and everyone in there ceased their conversations to look at him when the doors boomed closed. He walked tiredly toward the Marauders, who gave him half hearted waves and questioning looks.
James sighed as he sank into his seat, things just weren't the same for them right now, but given time... The Marauders would reemerge, slightly changed perhaps, but Marauders nonetheless.
"Prongs?" asked Remus carefully, setting down his book to look at his friend.
Just then the doors boomed again, and everyone swiveled to look at the two soaked wizards, who bore livid expressions aimed at the Gryffindor table.
Sirius rose to the occasion magnificently, blowing them an over dramatic kiss, and causing a shower of roses to fall over the drenched Slytherins.
And then, a wonderful thing happened. Something that had been missing from the school for three weeks.
The Marauders laughed.
Many students exchanged delighted looks, many more gave relieved sighs and smiles at the same time. Even the teachers grinned, though none as broadly as Professor McGonagall.
The only ones who were not pleased were the majority of the Slytherins, having often been the targets of the Marauders' multitude of inventive pranks, although they had instilled a grudging admiration in them.
James high fived his friend, as did Remus, and Peter clapped sycophantically. Lily exchanged delighted looks with her friends "They're back!" she exclaimed gleefully. In the past weeks, she had, in fact, missed them. Her life, it seemed, just wasn't complete without four fantastically, wonderfully, arrogant prats.
Alice nodded thoughtfully, "In a fashion." Lily analyzed her words, and looked back at the Marauders.
Their outbursts appeared to be shorter lived, and less cruel then before. And there were lines on the young faces that hadn't been there before. They weren't back, not completely, but it was a start.