2011

James knew it was arrogant to say it, but they were good. Dammit, they were good.

His fingers swept effortlessly over the frets, the sound of his guitar merging beautifully with Sirius's. The bass flowed perfectly over Peter's drumming. Sirius sang backup vocals, his voice perfectly complimenting James's.

Peter struck the crash cymbal with a flourish, indicating the end of the song. James turned around and beamed at the rest of the band, his guitar swinging from his neck.

"That was amazing, guys," he said. "Really, really good. We're definitely ready for the show tomorrow."

This was set to be the biggest show they'd ever played. 100 tickets had been sold. Sure, most of them were friends or family of the band members, but it felt huge.

James wasn't nervous though. They'd practiced every week for two years and he was confident that they were by now a talented band.

"We're going to rock it tomorrow," Sirius said, offering a high five to James. He accepted the high five and nodded.

"Damn right we are."


There may only have been a hundred people stood in front of James, but it felt like a million. The venue was a small bar, the size of which made the audience seem even more daunting – it was packed full of people.

James took a deep breath. "Thanks for coming out, we are The Marauders." A cheer came from the crowd, James's mother the loudest. He smiled bashfully. "This first song's a cover of the band that first inspired us to make music, it's called Sugar We're Goin' Down. You can sing along if you know it."

Peter's drums echoed through the venue. He only played for a short while before the other instruments came in, but it felt like an eternity. James gulped, his fingers digging into the strings, ready to start playing. He could do this. He could do this.

The moment he began to play, he forgot about the crowd. All he knew was that he was here, up on this stage, playing his guitar, with his three best friends surrounding him. And that this was all he wanted to do, for the rest of his life.

He began to sing and to his surprise, a few people chanted the lyrics along with him. Hardly any – maybe ten out of the total hundred – were singing, but it sent chills shooting down his spine.


The show was over. Most of the audience had left or had lost interest and were now at the bar, drinking. James laid his guitar down in its case and began to assist Peter with disassembling the drums.

"That was... incredible," Sirius laughed. "We were so good!"

Remus cracked a smile. "I still don't know how the pair of you managed to convince me to join this band, but I'm glad I did."

Sirius led the way off the stage and up to the bar. He was the only member of the band to have turned eighteen, and flaunted this by buying the quartet drinks.

The man next to them at the bar turned to them. He looked to be around mid to late fifties and was lean with a bushy white beard. "You lads were really great up there," he remarked.

"Thanks," James said with a wide smile.

The man held out his hand. "I'm Albus Dumbledore."

Sirius frowned as he shook it. "Is that your real name? That doesn't sound like a real name."

The man chuckled. "I'm afraid so. I assure you, I curse my parents every day. Listen, I'm going to get straight to the point. I want to be your manager. I've been at a few of your shows and I think you have the potential to be big. Very big. I have contacts in record labels. Four young guys like you with the talent you have, it shouldn't be hard to get you signed. I know you may need some time to think this over, but take my card and call me when you've made a decision." He reached into his inside pocket and pulled out a business card before handing it to Sirius.

James thought about how he'd felt up on that stage, with the crowd singing along with him. How he'd felt like the music was the only thing that mattered in that moment. How he never wanted to leave the stage. If this guy could offer even a possibility of doing this for the rest of his life, then...

He turned to the rest of the band and furrowed his eyebrows, as if to ask them their thoughts. Remus offered an almost imperceptible nod of the head, as did Sirius and eventually Peter.

"Actually, Mr... Dumbledore," James said. "I, erm... I think we've already made our decision."