The Marauders

by Everliah

"We're so distracted by how things end, we usually forget how beautiful the beginning was. Ours was beautiful, don't you think?" This is their story. It's the story of four boys who were promised the world; it's the story of their reign and their demise, with no distractions. This is the story of The Marauders.

3. Chapter Three- Fireworks and Sparks

AN: REVIEWS ALREADY? AFTER ONLY ONE CHAPTER? YOU GUYS ARE THE BEST! These four boys are very special to me and I'm going to try to make them as real as possible when I bring them to life. Thank you for reading. Oh, and don't worry too much about the time jump- everything that is important will still be detailed.

Chapter Three- Fireworks and Sparks

September 1977

Sirius snored.

The sunlight sifted through the slit in the curtains, bathing the room in a warm, wintery light. September mornings were his favourite. He liked them because it was the nicest feeling, to hear the wind rustle through the trees and the birds singing as they darted amongst the clouds, to feel as though time had been suspended all around him when everyone slept and only the light could move, to be surrounded by his friends again. He slept soundly, though he knew that James, ever the early bird, would be awake before the sun had first touched the sky.

Sure enough, when he opened his eyes blearily, he heard the shower running, and Sirius frowned. He rubbed at his face, still tight in the clutches of sleep, and sat up slightly. In the bed to his left, Remus was sleeping, and all that was visible was the golden tuft of his hair. Peter's snores, loud and deep from such a small boy, reverberated around the room.

Their dormitory was that deep red, adorning the walls and sliced by a log burner that crackled merrily near the door. The heavy crimson drapes beside his bed were closed, but a flicker of the outside world peeked into the room, escaping in a blissful dance that kissed his arm. It made his hairs stand on end.

Sixth Year had swept them by in a flurry of laughter and poorly-made decisions and Sirius had loved every minute of it. The knowledge that this was his last year at Hogwarts made something inside of him tighten ever so slightly, and he looked around at his friends, the string around his heart loosened and he knew that even when he left Hogwarts on the same train that had always brought him back, his home would be coming with him. Home, to Sirius Black, was wherever his friends were, on whatever chilly gay September morning he woke up to them all and felt peace settle in his bones.

Sirius noticed that James' bed was already made, his uniform sprawled across it. He flopped back down, closing his eyes to steal a few more moments of serenity-

"From the marshy bogs of Queerditch

Grew a sport so fine and fair

In which each witch and wizard

Would take flight through the air.

We sit and watch in wonder

At each game the players play

And dream our team will reign supreme

Thus we cannot help but say..."

Sirius' eyes shot open, and he groaned, covering his head with his hands.

He had not missed this.

James sung his lungs out, and his voice, though technically not out of key, was obnoxiously bad. Or perhaps that was just bias because it was so fucking loud.

He shoved his head under his pillow, and murmured, "Don't. Don't you dare, Potter… Don't you-"

But James Potter dared.

Oh, did he dare.

"BEAT BACK THOSE BLUDGERS, BOYS,

AND CHUCK THAT QUAFFLE HERE.

NO TEAM CAN EVER BEST

THE BEST OF PUDDLEMERE!

YOU'LL CATCH THAT GOLDEN SNITCH

WITH THE EASIEST OF EASE

GRAB YOUR BEATER'S BAT

AND IN NO TIME FLAT

PROVE THE GAME IS

YOURS TO SEIZE!"

Remus peered groggily from under his blanket, looking dazed and not yet quite awake. He smiled. "Good morning to you too."

His voice, muggy with sleep, was thick and clogged with his slight accent. They didn't hear it often, but it was a hybrid of Welsh and London, derived from his childhood in the countryside and the prolonged exposure to an ancient aristocrat, a rich mummy's boy and Dorcas Meadowes, who they couldn't escape if they tried.

Sirius looked at him from under his pillow. His hair was stuck up all over the place, and his golden eyes were shining with mirth.

Sirius didn't know how he could be so amused at this time in a morning. Peter was dead to the world; he didn't even stir.

"Can I hear you shout

Puddlemere United?

(PUDDLEMERE UNTIED!)

Always number one!

(ALWAYS NUMBER ONE!)

We won't be divided!

(WE WON'T BE DIVIDED!)

Now it's time to have

some fun-!"

"POTTER!" yelled Sirius, flinging his pillow at the bathroom door. It ricocheted off, hitting Peter in the face, who shot upright, drool dangling from his gawping mouth.

"Wha-?"

Remus didn't even try to contain his laughter, and it poured out of him. He leaned over the side of his bed, mashing his mouth into the mattress so it wasn't as high and loud. Sirius fired him a glare.

Suffice it to say, despite his love for these mornings, he was not a morning person.

Sirius flung back his covers, marching over to the bathroom. He pushed the door open and ignored James' shriek, and yelled, "James! Shut the fuck up!"

He slammed the door shut again, and collapsed on Peter, who just happened to be the closest. The latter made a sound of muffled protest, and wriggled, trying to push the taller boy off of him, but Sirius merely burrowed his head into the pillow.

"Save me, Pete," he mumbled. "I just want to sleep in peace."

"You've had all summer to sleep!" Peter laughed, though managed to shove him off him and Sirius laid beside him. Remus watched them from the other side of the room, amusement making his face light.

"It wouldn't be Hogwarts without this," he said.

They heard the shower switch off, and James appeared from the bathroom, towel wrapped around his waist. His glasses were fogged up, and the cellotape gluing them together was peeling; they did nothing to hide the incredulity of his expression as he looked down at Sirius.

"Honestly," he said. "I think you've seen me naked more times than my own mother!"

Sirius shrugged. "Don't worry, you're an Adonis. Take it from someone who knows. But disrupt my sleep once more and I will disfigure you so profoundly your own mother won't be able to recognise you."

He smiled charmingly, but James just pulled a face, looking like he couldn't decide whether to be flattered or unnerved. He moved over to his own bed to get dressed.

"You haven't fixed your glasses yet," Remus pointed out, sitting up and scratching his head. "They've been like that all summer."

James blinked at him. "I keep forgetting."

Remus raised an eyebrow. "What? That you're magic?"

James slid his arms into his shirt, though paused as he was about to button it up. He grinned lopsidedly, "Oh, yeah. That too."

Remus rolled his eyes, though he swivelled round to put his feet on the floor. He stretched, and asked, "Where did you even get the cellotape? Isn't that a Muggle thing?"

"Dorking. This nice old lady bought me some and told me I should probably invest in some new glasses."

"Did you not think of listening to her?" asked Remus. "Maybe she had a point."

James merely shrugged.

"I like these ones. They show off my chiselled jawline," he said, eyes dancing, and continued to dress himself.

"Can't argue there," Peter supplied wisely.

Remus shot him an amused look, but chose not to reply and got to his feet, where he stood for a minute, eyes roving the room for the lost pieces of his uniform. He was really quite terrible, throwing his clothes and leaving them where they landed. He was nothing like the smart, neat boy in his first year who folded his socks.

Remus had grown up. It had been the shock of Sirius' lifetime when he had come back for their fifth year to find Remus a fair few inches taller than him. He had grown into his lankiness, and no longer had gangly arms and legs that were too long for his body. He still had the pale skin, and freckles, and golden hair, though his hair was considerably longer, curling round his chin, and his eyes seemed to always be happy, shining for one thing or another. He no longer covered his scars, and wore them, not proudly, but certainly unashamedly. It was something James had made sure to tell him the first time, and all the other times after, that he had seen them.

Scars were nothing to be ashamed of. Least of all battle scars. They were proof he was fighting, proof he was strong and as James had astutely pointed out 'ladies love a warrior.' Sirius had agreed, and added that boys did too. The blush on Remus' face had almost had him covering them back up just to avoid having the conversation again, but Peter had told him (very seriously) he was like the heroes in his story books and that had meant the absolute world to Remus.

"Are we still on for today?" asked Peter groggily, getting up. When it was obvious Sirius had no plans to do the same, he shoved him, rolling him off the bed and his friend landed with a thump and a yowl of offence on the floor.

"I don't see why not," James said, fingers fiddling with his tie. "We know what we're doing, right?"

He chanced a glance at each of them, and they replied in the affirmative.

"First day back as well," replied Remus, grinning. He shrugged his shirt on, and started buttoning it up. "Poor McGonagall. She's barely had time to breathe."

"Minnie loves us," said Sirius, as he got gracefully to his feet. He unclenched his fist, looking down at what he had found on the floor before holding it up and saying, "Remus. Sock."

Remus raised his eyebrows, and promptly got a sock to the face. He pressed his lips in a line.

Peter frowned at the sock in question. "Why was that in my bed?"

Nobody bothered to reply to him; Remus' clothes could be found in the strangest of places- the sink, under James' pillow, hanging from the ledge outside the window. They didn't know how they got there, but they always seemed to get back to Remus in the end.

James fumbled with his tie, peering down his nose at it, and said, "Personally, I think Minnie is going to be most impressed. It's her skill after all."

"I don't reckon this is what she had in mind all those years of teaching us Transfiguration," Remus commented sceptically, unfurling his collar from his neck. He shot them a look. "I think she fancied turning a pocket watch into a tea cosy or something similar."

"Well she'll enjoy our flair, I imagine," James replied, sending his friend a dazzling smile. He'd given up on his tie, so Peter had kneeled at the foot of his bed to give himself the additional inches needed to loop his tie into place, pulling it tight. James choked, wrenched forward. He rubbed his neck weakly and said, "Not that tight, Pete."

Peter just raised his eyebrows, though there was mischief glimmering in the faux innocence of his wide eyes.

"Maybe you should finally learn how to do it yourself then," he replied, making his way over to his own bed. "After all, you should really know how to do it after four years."

James' eyes followed him incredulously. "But what's the point when I have you!?"

Peter's shoulders dropped in exasperation as he exclaimed, "I'll be doing your tie on your wedding day at this rate!"

James pointed at him. "I'll hold you to that!"

"You're a big boy, James," said Sirius lightly, joining in as he collected his uniform from his trunk. "Evans won't stand for that."

"Oh bugger off. To be frank, Marlene probably won't mind- you still have a pulse after all."

Sirius pulled his pyjama shirt over his head and clutched at his heart. He cried mournfully, "I am more than a body to warm your bed, James Fleamont Potter!"

"You know I value your brain as well," said James. "However little there is of it-"

"Besides, there's nothing between Marlene and I."

"Does she know that?" Remus asked dryly.

Sirius just grinned, shaking his head, and continued to dress himself.

"It never fails to amuse me how minuscule and bleak your dating history is," announced James. "Especially when the entire school seems to think you're some sort of Casanova sex god."

Sirius' eyes widened, and he whispered, almost conspiratorially, "But I am a Casanova sex god."

"And you've received this feedback from the two and a half girls who have let you feel their breasts, have you?" Remus questioned. He paused. "Was it above the jumper or did they let you touch their Oxford?"

James' laugh was loud and rich, crackling through the air and Remus sent him a grin. Sirius pulled a face at the pair of them.

"Stop it," said Peter, "you'll hurt his feelings."

Sirius' shoulders slumped dramatically and he fired a particularly rude gesture at his friend.

Peter raised his eyebrows. "Well in that case, was it above the Oxford or did she stop you before you could get to her skin?"

"And how many boobs have you touched Peter? Rounded to the nearest whole number please." Sirius' voice was loud enough to rise above the returned snickering of his friends. "And your own don't count."

Peter blushed a brilliant red. He gave Sirius the finger.

James frowned in disapproval, and cocked his head. He said, "Now, now, Sirius. If those are the rules, you've dropped to two."

"Do mine count?" Remus asked curiously.

James considered this.

"Jumper or Oxford?"

Remus' lips parted and he replied in mock sincerity, "Above the jumper, James. What kind of randy teenager do you mistake me for?"

"You're right, I'm sorry, Moony." James turned back to his brother. "So it's now at one. And that's only one more than Wormtail." On his way to the bathroom to comb through his hair, he slapped Peter on the back. "Don't worry mate, there's time for you yet. Girls love an underdog."

"Then why are they so attracted to me?" Sirius asked languidly, spreading his arms wide.

James' voice floated from the bathroom. "You misheard me, Padfoot. I said 'underdog,' not mangy dog."

Sirius directed an affronted look at Remus, who raised an eyebrow as if to say 'he's not wrong.' Peter still seemed engrossed by their previous conversation. He collapsed onto his bed, absently reaching for his shoes to pull on and lace up.

"What about Marlene?" he asked after a moment. "Everyone's touched her boobs."

"I haven't," said Remus genially.

"We're not here to name and shame, Peter," James responded, emerging from the bathroom with hair as lopsided and untameable as it had been when he'd entered.

Sirius nodded. "Yes, she has lovely boobs. It's only right that people get to touch them."

"Once again," Remus said to no one in particular. "My hands have never gone near Marlene's breasts."

"Keep calling them 'breasts' and they likely never will," Sirius took pleasure in telling him, topping the advice off with an amiable smile.

Remus rolled his eyes.

"Although," James countered, staring at Peter.

"Wormtail has got a point. Not that lots of people have touched Marlene's boobs, but you just said there's nothing going on so it doesn't really make the cut. Sorry, sport," he patted Sirius' shoulder, "you're level at zero now."

Peter grinned triumphantly at him. "We could start a club."

Sirius merely gawped at the pair of them. It took him a minute or two to find the dignity to close his mouth. He inhaled deeply, holding up a finger.

"First of all, there is no club. I refuse to be a member of your pitiful virgin society group. Second, I have gotten to the Oxford thank you very much. Third, can we please stop talking about McKinnon's boobs! I was drunk and it's bringing back atrocious memories I would rather not have to dredge up."

"Like turning into Padfoot and eating a pigeon?" Remus supplied helpfully.

Sirius' less than impressed eyes slid to him. "To name one."

"And when you-" Peter began.

"That was not an invitation to name more, Pete," said Sirius, voice dripping with forced pleasantness.

Peter ducked his head to hide the grin spilling into his bulbous cheeks. He finished tying his shoes.

"What's that?" Sirius asked, all of a sudden, stepping over his twisted duvet, which was strewn at the foot of his bed from where he had kicked it earlier on, skirting around (were they his?) shoes that were scattered on the floor, to stop in front of Remus. He grabbed the badge that his friend had just pinned to his Gryffindor sweater and held it closer to his eye. A short, disbelieving bark of laughter escaped his lips. "Have you seen this? Who the fuck in their right mind would make you Prefect again after last time?"

"Prefect?" James repeated, eyes wide. He shot over just as quickly, and Peter jumped across the beds to follow.

Remus' cheeks and ears were tinged pink, but he simply rolled his eyes and pulled his jumper out of Sirius' prying fingers.

"I'll have you know, I'm still the most responsible one here," he said.

James scoffed, throwing his head back into the action, and he replied dismissively, "That's not difficult! Mentally, we have a combined age of twelve!"

"Fifteen, if we're being generous," added Peter.

"And yet, you still made Head Boy," Remus retorted dryly. His lips were turned up with amusement.

James shrugged. "Nepotism," was all he said.

Remus pulled a face. "Your father makes hair potions-"

"Hey- I won't have you disrespecting Fleamont like that!"

"Why didn't you tell us earlier?" asked Sirius, and his voice was softer now, finger stroking the red gleam of the badge, glistening proudly on Remus' chest. His eyes lifted to look at him directly, and there was something shining in the darkness of them.

Remus shrugged, and he looked away. "I didn't want you to ridicule, I guess."

"We would never-!"

He fixed them with a knowing stare. "So if I'd told you as soon as I got the letter, you wouldn't have tried to take advantage of my restored responsibility to help with your tomfoolery?"

There was a pregnant pause.

"We have James for that!" reassured Peter helpfully.

"Well, I wouldn't quite label it tomfoolery-" began James, scratching the back of his neck, but the hesitance in his tone was clear.

Remus shook his head. "You never fail to prove me right," he said, but there was a slight smile as he ducked his head and escaped from their clutches. He paused then, and looked at Peter, almost guiltily. "But Pete, it's your badge- you had it last year-"

"I only turned up to the meetings because there was free food," admitted Peter candidly. "The position was wasted on me and we all knew it. You guys knew it, Dumbledore knew it, I knew it. I'm actually glad I don't have to do Patrols for another year. Do you know how many times I turned into a rat just to get it over and done with quicker? It's not wasted on you."

Remus gripped his friend's leg, gratitude prompting him to give it a little shake. "Well, hey, thanks Peter."

"It's why we're friends," remarked Peter, shrugging, flopping back to lie on Remus' bed. He stared up at the ceiling, light blue eyes tracing the stars and planets engraved into the crooked wooden beams. "We make you look good. You keep us in line."

Though Remus scoffed loudly, his cheeks only reddened further and he stole a moment to adjust his Prefect badge. Sirius watched him for a moment longer. He deserved the position. After Fifth Year, after what had happened in the Whomping Willow with Snape, Remus hadn't got his Prefect Badge back for their Sixth Year. Although they'd been happy for Peter, who had received the position instead, it had been clear that Remus blamed himself for what had happened. Nobody worked harder than Remus- except, maybe, for Lily, but they were similar in the respect that they both had something to prove, something to strive for. Sirius wanted Remus to realise how valuable and impressive he was, even if he had to be reminded daily in the form of a little red badge with a big gold 'P' on it.

James gripped Sirius' shoulder abruptly. His face was electrified, sparking in the haywire hazel of his eyes, jolting his glasses off balance. The grin curling his thin lips made something flip in Sirius' stomach. Something dangerous and exciting at the same time.

"Are you ready?"

He didn't think he'd ever been as ready in his entire life.

James squeezed him, and Sirius could feel the tension buzzing through his veins, before he left the dormitory.

Remus scooped his scarf up from the floor, winking as he passed Sirius and followed James. Peter quickly ran a brush through his wiry blonde hair and scurried after the pair of them, leaving Sirius alone.

There was nothing stopping him but his eyes flitted over the room regardless. He always had these moments when he came back to Hogwarts; these moments where time stopped and he could bask in the snatched serenity of it all, the breathless joy that he was home and he was loved.

"Sirius?"

James' voice floated up from the Common Room. He felt his lips twitch.

"Coming!"

The noise of the Gryffindor Common Room was like a firework erupting above his head and drenching him in the thrill of life. Anxious first years sat in corners, huddled together, eyes flicking to a few of the older students, awe mingled with their nerves. There were girls, some with hair flowing to their skirts, others with pixie cuts, congregated on the windowsills and laughing like bells ringing. Groups of boys played Exploding Snap, roaring in laughter every time one of the cards spontaneously combusted in someone's face, and every now and then, a poor sacrifice would be pushed towards the girls who would turn their noses up in disdain and send him scuttling back to the bold bravado of his friends. The fire crackled merrily in the hearth, feeding the warmth. Red scarves were wrapped around necks, and golden ties preened from chests. Sirius couldn't get enough of it. This was his family.

"You alright?" James asked, and though his voice was tempered to be neutral, Sirius could hear and see the concern. His friend was never any good at hiding his emotions. Or maybe it was just that after four years, he was an expert on James Potter.

"Yeah," said Sirius. His grin was wide and raw. "I'm home."

James' eyes softened, and he threw an arm around his shoulder, lugging him forward. "Well what are we waiting for? We've got a prank to play!"

They walked through the corridors, their laughter making the portraits turn and stare. Some of them frowned, tutting their oily lips. Others muttered amongst themselves how it was clear The Marauders were back for another year of mischief and mayhem. Secretly, they all admitted, it was never a dull year with those four boys gallivanting the halls.

As they approached the Great Hall, shouts and the tell-tale enthusiasm of chatter reached out to them, enveloping them in the din of Hogwarts. The light spilled through the slit in between the doors, and they caught just a hint of the breakfast feast before they were encompassed by it completely.

The four tables were dotted with students, a sea of faces dressed in black robes painted red, yellow, green and blue. The tables were decked out with golden platters of every food imaginable; bright red apples were piled high, besides scores of toast, and towers of croissants. There were rows of multi-coloured jams and marmalades, and jugs brimming with all the colours of the rainbow.

James could barely contain his excitement, and he dragged them over to sit at the end of the Gryffindor Table.

"You know the plan, right?" he asked fervently, eyes wide and bright behind his glasses, looking like a five year old at a birthday party who had just been offered cake.

"Of course we do," said Remus. "We've had this planned since the start of the summer."

"So you all know what you're doing-?"

Sirius sighed dramatically. He leaned forward and looked James straight in the eye. "We know the plan. We know what we're doing. You're clucking like a mother hen. Have a little faith," he added, leaning back and helping himself to an apple.

This seemed to appease James a little as his face relaxed, and he allowed a small easy smile.

That is, until Sirius leisurely questioned, "What could go wrong?"

The crease between James' eyebrows reappeared, deeper than before.

Remus cringed. Even Peter's eyes darted between the three of them.

"Don't say that," said James quickly. "I don't want to think about it."

Sirius sent an impish grin at Peter, who said nothing but the curl of his lips behind his bacon was a reply in itself. Remus shook his head at the pair of them.

Slowly, but surely, the Great Hall started filling up, and the noise absconded them of their worries. The humdrum of school, currently dominated by nonsensical chatter, rose, wiggling its way into the cracks and crevices of the stone walls and brushing even the September clouds on the ceiling in greeting.

"Wotcha!"

Marlene McKinnon appeared at the end of the table. There was something electrifying about her, something that sparked at the tips of her long blonde hair, always brushed but messy, that short circuited at the red of her grinning lips. Her tie hung loose about her neck, her cardigan buttoned only half way up. The air around her felt like it was on fire, fuelled by the thrill of another year, where anything could happen.

Sirius often felt that happen to the air around himself.

He grinned up at her. "Long time, no see, Marls. How're you doing?"

"I'm doing fine," she replied, tucking a strand of his dark hair behind his ear. "How are you, Black? Got that motorbike yet?"

Sirius' grin widened. "Not yet. But you know I'm on it. Give it a year and I'll have one, just you see."

"You promise to take me for a ride on it?" asked Marlene, her blue eyes, the colour of a sea on a stormy day, bright and wide.

"Of course," he promised. "We could even get matching jackets."

Marlene's lips split into the first real smile of the day and she said, "As long as I get to choose them. Your taste is questionable at best. I don't want some kind of... emblazoned puppy on the back."

Sirius tried not to look too offended. "Dogs are ferocious," he said, voice suspiciously neutral.

She pulled a face.

"They're cuddly! What are they going to do- lick you to death?"

He dropped the pretence, mouth falling open of its own accord. Quickly, he grappled for a counter argument.

"I'll have you know, a dog bite exerts 2000 pounds of pressure so good luck hanging onto your limb-"

"2000 newtons," Remus corrected.

"Bless you," Sirius replied distractedly.

"No- Sirius, it's 2000 newtons. That's what power is measured in. 2000 pounds is like a Muggle car slamming into you head on."

The group took a while to absorb this information in which James' face contorted in both awe and bewilderment at the utter brilliance of his friend, and Peter seemed to shut off completely, taking much more interest in his sausages.

"That's codswallop!" exclaimed Sirius.

Marlene's laugh burst from her body, shrieking all around the hall, eliciting a few turned heads and wide eyes. The first years especially seemed concerned but they'd get used to her. With Marlene, it was like having a firework go off, and habituating to the sparks that followed thereafter.

"Oh, careful now, don't set any dogs on me to prove your point Black- I wouldn't want to bruise!"

She was still cackling when a girl with eyes the colour of grass in summer and hair aflame approached.

"Here you are!" Lily Evans announced. Her voice was high and breathless. There was a slight pinkness to her cheeks, clouding her dark freckles. "We were looking all over for you! One minute, you were standing next to us, the next and poof! You're gone."

She seemed to realise she had an audience for she turned to the Marauders and smiled slightly.

"Oh hello boys."

"Good morning, Lily," greeted Remus. "I trust you had a good summer?"

"As good as it could be in the heat we had!" she groaned. "Honestly, England is never sunny and when it is, I don't even tan! I just burn!"

She held up her pale, freckled arm to prove it.

"It's because you're so white," commented James logically.

Lily's eyebrows quirked and she looked at him.

"Good morning Potter. Not all of us luck out in the gene pool lottery, I'm afraid, so I'm condemned to burn." Her eyes flicked from his sun-kissed face to the top of his head. "Still haven't picked up a brush, I see."

James schooled his mouth into a line. His eyes danced. "Still haven't learnt to look in the mirror before you leave your dormitory, I notice."

Lily's eyes narrowed almost imperceptibly, and James was careful to stifle his grin (though his lips twitched) as he reached up and pulled a yellow ribbon entangled in her hair.

She blushed, snatching it off of him. "That was intentional."

"Uh huh," he replied, not even trying to hide his smile now.

She patted down her hair, adamantly avoiding looking at him.

"Oh absolutely. I'm trying to bring random hair accessories back, is it not catching on?"

"I'd like to say yes-?"

"I'd take your word for it but your hair hasn't even seen a brush in donkey's years, so I wouldn't say you're a reliable source of feedback," said Lily, and she finally met his gaze. It was only for a matter-of-fact second, where her pink lips threatened to smile, before her eyes slid onto Sirius and her features returned to nonchalance. "What do you think, Black? You seem to take care of your hair."

Sirius grinned at James' affronted expression, and responded smoothly, "I think you look dashing, Evans. The random hair accessory really suits you."

"Thank you," she smiled, reaching back to tie the ribbon in her hair. "At least I can say I'm endorsed by Sampson, and not the bohemian uncouth version of John Lennon."

Remus snorted into his apple juice. James looked at a loss for words, the Muggle reference flying straight over his wild haired head.

Marlene shot a last grin at them before taking Lily's arm and saying, "Come on. Time to get some food in you. That's the third person you've snapped at today!"

Lily frowned, though allowed herself to be dragged away further down the table where Mary MacDonald sat already. Her reply floated to them: "But Potter hardly counts-"

James slumped back in his seat, eyes wide and exasperated behind his glasses. "Did you hear that boys? She doesn't think I'm a person!"

Even so, there was a little smile curling his lips.

"Technically," Peter said, mouth full with egg, and he paused to swallow before he continued speaking. "You're not 100% a person. You're like, 10% a stag."

"And 5% a dick if you're up to it," Remus contributed.

"Or if a certain greasy haired snake happened to walk by," said Sirius, vindictive smile tightening his cheeks.

James' eyes followed his friend's to the door and sure enough, Severus Snape appeared. He had not changed since their first year, and though their clashes had been violent and plentiful, James felt a sense of trepidation coil in his stomach. He swallowed.

"Not this year," he said.

Sirius' cool grey eyes cut to him.

"Don't take away my favourite chew toy, James. That's no fun at all."

"I just think it's getting tiresome. There's more to Hogwarts than petty fights with Slytherins."

"And certain Prefects with red hair and green eyes who despise your guts," Sirius added pleasantly.

"She's warming to me," said James, confidence overshadowed by a softness in his voice. His eyes found her easily. "She managed to get three whole words out before she insulted me! In fact, I'd say there was the hint of a compliment in there- she commended my gene pool!"

Remus raised his eyebrows. Sirius rolled his eyes. Peter lifted his goblet, waiting to swallow his food before he grinned, and announced, "To James. The ultimate master of slow burn seduction! And gene pools!"

Though hesitance etched the deep grooves of his face, Remus held up his goblet and clinked the glass together. At James' pleased but surprised look, he shrugged, "Technically speaking, he's not wrong."

Sirius refused to join in, adamantly avoiding even discussing the matter. In fact, he only perked up when breakfast was well under way and James murmured, "It's time."

Peter downed the rest of his juice. Sirius flicked his fork off the table.

Remus raised his eyebrows. "Was that entirely necessary?"

Sirius grinned. "I'd like to think so."

As he stooped to pick it up, he slid his wand from his sleeve, and flicked it under his arm; the incantation, "Wingardium Leviosa," was a controlled and powerful murmur from his lips, audible to his ears alone. He paused in the position for just a few moments as the insurmountable waves of his magic rippled across the hall, falling like fairy dust over the students' heads and onto their cutlery and dinnerware before, without wasting another second, Sirius was up on his feet, blowing his fork and sitting back down in his seat. He sent a wink at Remus.

Remus merely quirked an eyebrow, though his exasperation was quickly pursued by amusement. James watched the exchange, excitement shining in his bright eyes, and he gave the nod. Sirius dragged his wand upwards.

On cue, the tableware slowly started floating, hovering to suspend amongst the candles. A few students noticed immediately, falling quiet as their eyes followed their departing plates and goblets. Others remained oblivious, continuing their conversations as if their cutlery hadn't just started flying.

Remus didn't give them much time to react, for he cleared his throat subtly and muttered something under his breath; his lips barely moved. The flatware immediately stopped in mid-air. Then, they burst into song:

"Hogwarts, Hogwarts,

Hoggy Warty Hogwarts,

Teach us something please!"

The knives twirled, the spoons clinked, the forks clashed, the plates spun, and all the while they sung with gallous bravado. The goblets supplied the bass, whilst the dishes and platters sung the baritone. This meant it was up to the cutlery to fulfil the soprano, and the Great Hall was brimming with music and life. Sirius kept his wand under the table, though he was directing it this way and that as though he was the grand conductor of his very own vastly elaborate and thrilling show, with heroes and villains and damsels in distress.

"Whether we be old and bald,

Or young with scabby knees."

Peter had procured a shielding charm above the tables so the food and drink that sloshed out of the dancing dishes and goblets from above would artfully cascade down around the students, like some waterfall of disgusting chaos. He seemed to have forgotten to cover the Slytherin table for Pumpkin Juice and scrambled egg rained down upon them, sending them scurrying from their seats, screaming and cursing. Milk dripped down Snape's hair, and he clenched his fists and closed his eyes to try to control his fury.

Sirius couldn't help himself. "Oh look, Snivellus is actually washing his hair for once! It's been so long I'm surprised he recognises it as a bodily function."

"Our heads could do with filling,

With some interesting stuff,

For now they're bare and full of air,

Dead flies and bits of fluff."

Even so, the school lit up at the sight of their silverware pirouetting and singing. Some of the older students joined in, and their out of tune warbles rounded off the perfected fabrication of the opera-singing crockery. The First Years sat and watched in awe, necks snapped back, heads tilted to the ceiling; small smiles curled their lips. Slughorn clapped his walrus hands along.

"So teach us things worth knowing,

Bring back what we've forgot,

Just do your best, we'll do the rest,

And learn until our brains all rot."

"There's no way I'm letting this one go unaccounted for," James murmured under his breath and he stood up. He took a deep breath, and Sirius grinned at him, before he lifted his wand and a beaming violet light glissaded from the end of it, darting through the air. It soared over everyone's heads and the entirety of Hogwarts could only sit and watch as the magic, crackling and warm, collided with a spoon.

There was a small ting and the spoon exploded, shattering into purple sparks, erupting as a firework. From there on, the sky of the Great Hall went off like the fifth of November, and every piece of cutlery, every knife, spoon and fork, every dish, every goblet and jug, every plate and bowl, imploded and fractured into sparks of multi-coloured light.

The response was instantaneous, and the crowd let out sighs of astonishment and squeals of surprise, jumping to their feet at the first loud bang. Sirius glanced at his brother, and he felt his insides jolt at the soft look on James' face. There was no tightness, just a slack wonderment for magic. The fireworks could be seen erupting in his glasses.

James' eyes strayed from the sparklers and they found Lily.

The colours kissed her hair eclectically, painting her pale skin in pink and yellow and blue. She must have felt his gaze for she looked at him.

'What do you think?' he mouthed, eyebrows raising.

Her lips split into a wide and brilliant smile, and James felt his breath trickling from him. Lily's awestruck, green eyes flicked away and they absorbed everything in the room, before she turned back to him, and mouthed, 'Magical.'

And as they fell, the sparks slowed, reaching for one another and reforming their original bodies, until bowls were curved and forks were reshaped and the four tables were back to normal.

There was a silence in the hall, in which the Marauders basked in the success of their plan- and then Professor Dumbledore began clapping. His blue eyes were amused and twinkling as he surveyed them over the top of his moon shaped spectacles. McGonagall joined in soon after, thin lips twisted in that secret smile of hers. Before they knew it, the entire school was clapping and cheering. James' grin was electric, and he took a small bow.

They finished their breakfast, though each was far too excited to eat properly, before standing and leaving for their first class of the school year. It was when they got to the double doors of the Great Hall that they noticed their Head of House sweeping towards them, and Sirius slowed his pace at the sight of her decided gait.

"Mr Black," McGonagall said, lips pursed tightly. Her beady eyes were fixed on his face, over the top of her glasses. Sirius looked at her, and he felt just a sliver of nerves in his gut. She regarded him pointedly for a few tense seconds before she said, "That was a very impressive display. Why is it I struggle to get you to work this hard in my class?"

His body relaxed, face melting into an easy and triumphant grin.

"Minnie, you know I love you, but the thrill of good grades is nothing on this." He looked out at the Great Hall again, and the firecrackers went off in his brain like euphoric fragments of the past. "I doubt I'll find anything that is."