WEEKS turned to months at Hogwarts as I settled into a routine existence. Even with the addition of three weekly Quidditch practice sessions, my schoolwork continued to pose little challenge.
Transfiguration and Charms were my favorite classes, because of their strong practical components and competent teachers, and between the two I often single-handedly earned enough points to offset the ones Snape took every opportunity to subtract from Gryffindor in Potions.
Potions was a mixed bag; I quite enjoyed the hands-on elements of brewing, but Snape's vindictive pettiness and apathetic teaching style wore on me despite my attempts to ignore it.
Partnering with Neville, who was much worse at dealing with Snape's barbed tongue, helped keep the class exciting, since I had to be as vigilant as a hawk to keep him from making some error that would ruin our potion.
History of Magic and first-year Defense Against the Dark Arts consisted purely of lectures with no practical element, and Professors Quirrell and Binns weren't particularly engaging lecturers. Fortunately the subject matter was interesting enough to keep me engaged.
I was particularly fascinated by the relationship between Wizards and Goblins, but had long since stopped raising my hand in class, as Binns had yet to acknowledge a student's question. In Defense, I had adopted the strategy of just keeping my head down and taking notes to avoid Quirrell's attention.
Herbology and Astronomy were the subjects I had done the least reading in over the summer, but they progressed at a pace that was clearly oriented for young children with a less focused work ethics than myself. The only hard part was staying awake in Astronomy on Wednesdays, which took place at midnight after an exhausting Quidditch practice.
I was excused from Flying Lessons after making the Quidditch team. Ron and I would occasionally go out to the Quidditch Pitch when the weather allowed, taking turns flying the Nimbus 2000 Professor McGonagall had given me; I hadn't told anyone that I already had a broom, not wanting to admit I'd brought an item to Hogwarts that was forbidden to First Years.
All this meant that I earned top marks across the board and still had plenty of time to pursue whatever piqued my interest. I divided this free time between the Hogwarts Library, where I did background reading in History, Magical Theory, Ancient Runes, and Arithmancy, and the Room of Requirement, where I practiced advanced Charms, Hexes, and Jinxes.
I had searched the library from top to bottom for references to the Marauders, but had come up dry; it seemed that yearbooks were a Muggle invention that Hogwarts had never adopted. When I hazarded disturbing Madame Pince to ask about it, she confirmed that Hogwarts had no such thing.
However, I'd had a stroke of luck when I ran into Hagrid on the way back from Herbology one day in early October, and he invited me to come down to his hut for tea. When I went down the next day with Ron, Hermione, and Neville, I asked Hagrid about my parents, and who their friends had been in school.
After some hemming and hawing and a frown in Neville's direction, which I assumed indicated he didn't want to bring up the boy's parents, he said that my father had been close to Remus Lupin and Peter Pettigrew. I asked if he thought it would be ok if I sent letters to them, and he told me that Pettigrew had passed away, but that he was sure Remus would be delighted to hear from me.
I was somewhat disappointed that he didn't mention Sirius Black, as this would have given me an excuse to look into his incarceration in Azkaban, but perhaps I'd be able to find some reference to him related to Pettigrew's death.
That evening I had penned a letter to Remus, saying Hagrid had told me he'd been close to my father, and that I'd love to learn more about my parents. I included a request for a picture of them, explaining that I had none and couldn't remember their faces. Knowing that Remus had initially been hesitant opening up to Harry during Third Year in the books, I hoped this request would tug his heartstrings enough to motivate him to respond even if he harbored any second thoughts.
When I didn't receive a response after several days, I began checking the Owlery every night, worried about Hedwig. It had been relief when I found her there a week after I'd sent her out, looking somewhat bedraggled but in good health. I had made sure to give my faithful owl plenty of Owl Treats to express my gratitude for what had apparently a long and tiring journey.
Another week had passed and I had all but forgotten about Remus Lupin with Halloween approaching, being preoccupied with the upcoming prospect of Quirrell releasing a troll in the school. My early efforts befriending Hermione had resulted in her and Ron enjoying a much more cordial relationship, though I wouldn't exactly classify them as being close.
While I was glad that Ron wasn't picking on Hermione at all, I suspected that this meant she wouldn't end up crying in the bathroom on Halloween, particularly because I had already taught Ron to cast the Levitation Charm on the Hogwarts Express. I was glad we'd be spared the dangerous task of rescuing her from a full grown Mountain Troll, but was concerned that barring this bonding experience, we'd never really become as close as the Trio had in the books.
On the other hand, I wasn't sure I was comfortable bringing a pair of First Years along with me to brave the dangers of the protections around the Philosopher's Stone, even if they were close enough friends that they'd be willing to come along. As a result, I never turned down a game of chess with Ron, and my skills had improved steadily, to the point where I even managed the occasional victory.
I was sitting at breakfast on the Sunday before Halloween, reviewing my memory of the seven trials from the first book and pondering on how I could further prepare for them, when a nondescript and ragged-looking owl swooped down and dropped a letter in front of my plate. The bird seemed exhausted, so I fed it a few strips of bacon while I looked down at the envelope, which my name was written in elegant cursive.
Ron, who was sitting next to me, looked over.
"What have you got there, mate?" he asked.
"I'm not sure," I said. "Remember how Hagrid said my father was friends with a wizard named Remus Lupin? I wrote him a while back, maybe he replied."
Hermione and Neville looked up at this, and I suggested we head back to Gryffindor Tower to read it, where there would be a bit more privacy. Everyone agreed, curiosity writ large on their faces, so we polished off our meals and left the Great Hall.
Once we were all seated on plush armchairs in the Common Room, I opened the envelope and removed its contents, a Wizarding photograph and a neatly-folded letter. A beaming young couple smiled and waved at me from the picture, a handsome man with messy black hair and round spectacles with his arm around a slender, pretty woman with long auburn hair and green eyes that sparkled with joy.
I smiled, vicariously enjoying the happiness they exuded for a few moments, then passed the photo to Hermione.
"My parents," I said.
"Oh, they are lovely!" she cooed. Ron leaned over from his chair and grinned when Hermione held the photo out so he could get a better view. She passed the photo to Neville, who examined it with a solemn expression, no doubt thinking of his own parents.
I unfolded the letter and began to read aloud.
"Dear Harry," it said. "You can't imagine the joy I felt upon receiving your letter, and I thank you from the bottom of my heart for reaching out to me. Hagrid is quite right, I knew both of your parents quite well, as we were all Gryffindors in the same year, and your father James was one of my dearest friends."
Neville held the photo back to me, which I took and placed on the small table between us, then continued reading the letter.
"Those years with your parents at Hogwarts were the best years of my life, and I am eternally grateful that your father decided to befriend a very shy boy sitting alone in a compartment on the Hogwarts Express. James was an exceptionally brave and talented wizard who exemplified the traits of Gryffindor House, but he was also as deeply loyal and caring friend as any Hufflepuff.
"Above all, your father had an exuberant sense of humor, and loved practical jokes. He was the natural leader of our small group of friends, who earned a rather notorious reputation among both staff and students, coming to be known as the Marauders."
Ron started to say something, but Hermione swatted him on the arm and made a shushing noise. I looked up, but he shook his head and motioned for me to continue. Hermione and Neville both wore expressions of rapt attention. My eyes returned to Remus's neatly looping script.
"Your mother Lily was, perhaps, an even more remarkable person. She was the kindest individual I've ever met; I never knew her to insult a person or even laugh at a joke at someone's expense. She was an even more exceptional student than your father (for whom pranking often took priority over homework), always managing the top marks in our year - and that was quite an accomplishment, as I was rather studious myself and always striving to match her, but her talent always shone through.
"I have many stories I'd love to share with you, but I am mindful of how little space is left on this parchment, and unfortunately it is the only sheet I have in my possession at the moment. However, I would like nothing better than to continue to correspond with you and share these memories with you, Harry.
"I am travelling through southern Europe at the moment, but I hope to return to England before the end of the year, and will send you another letter as soon as I return. Until then, I'd ask that you spare your owl the trip; she is a majestic creature, but looks quite exhausted from the long journey. Warmest regards, Remus Lupin."
My throat had grown dry during the long recitation, and I swallowed the remaining saliva in my mouth through a lump in my throat. Hermione and Ron both began to speak over each other immediately.
"Harry, that was beautiful!" Hermione sniffed, her eyes shining with tears despite the smile on her face, and she leapt out of her seat to throw her arms around me in an enthusiastic hug.
"I've heard of the Marauders - Fred and George have mentioned them, they talk about them like they're gods!" Ron said excitedly.
I grinned at them and told Ron that we'd have to ask the Twins for more details. He craned his neck, looking around the Common Room, but the mischievous pair of redheads weren't in sight. Neville got up and patted me on the shoulder.
"Thanks for sharing that with us, mate," he said softly.
"Of course, Neville, it was nice to share this moment with my friends," I said.
"I'm going to go put these in my trunk," I added, taking the letter from the table and standing. "I don't want anything to happen to them."
When I returned, Ron, eager to inform the Twins of my connection to the Marauders, convinced us to go looking for them. When we didn't see them in the Great Hall for lunch, we forgoed our meal and wandered the castle for several hours, glancing into empty classrooms, but our search came up empty.
Eventually we found ourselves taking a walk around the lake, the chilly autumn day warmed by the bright afternoon sun. We skipped stones and chatted about classes until our growling stomachs and the deepening shadows sent us back into the Hogwarts to eat dinner.
We found the Twins at the Gryffindor table, and Ron rushed ahead to give them the news. They both leapt to their feet and ran over to surround me, each grabbing one of my hands and shaking it enthusiastically while patting my back.
"Who would have thought-"
"A junior Marauder-"
"Right here, in our midst-"
"We are humbled-"
"Astonished-"
"Unworthy-"
The rapid-fire exchange continued as they led me to Gryffindor table and ushered me into a place on the bench. They hovered to either side like waiters, pouring me a glass of pumpkin juice and set a plate in front of me, piling it high with food. I couldn't help but share a grin with my three friends at their antics. Eventually they calmed down and sat down across from me.
"So, James Potter was a Marauder! Harry, you have quite a reputation to live up to," one Twin said.
"We only know them by their nicknames," the other continued.
"Prongs, Padfoot, Wormtail, and Moony," added the first.
"We wonder which one was your dad. Do you know who the others were?"
"Remus Lupin was one of them," I said. "He's the one who sent me the letter. Hagrid also mentioned that Peter Pettigrew was friends with them, so maybe he was one?"
"Pettigrew? The name rings a bell…" the Twin to the right wore a pensive frown. I really needed to learn how to tell them apart. The other Twin continued.
"Yes, I'm sure I've heard it. A mystery then, and you are in luck, for their are no two finer sleuths in all of Hogwarts."
"We're on it, Harry, never fear, all will soon be clear!"
I opened my mouth to respond, but the Twins had already jumped back to their feet and were rushing out of the Great Hall. I quirked an eyebrow at Ron, and he shrugged his shoulders, a bemused expression on his face.
"That's what they're always like," he said. "But it's true - once those two set their minds on something, not much can get in their way."
"Well, that's good to hear, I really want to learn more about my father and his friends." I put on a frown. "I wonder why Mr. Lupin didn't mention Peter Pettigrew, or a fourth Marauder. Hagrid also only told us about Pettigrew and Lupin, maybe we should ask him?"
We all turned to look at the staff table, but the massive Groundskeeper wasn't there.
Hermione chimed in. "It's been a long time, Harry, he probably just didn't remember."
"I'm sure the Twins will figure it out, they don't give up," Ron sounded equal parts proud and rueful, no doubt thinking of their tenacity in pranking him over the years.
I nodded.
"Yeah, you're probably right."
The Twins would be useful proxies for this task, and I had other things to worry about. Halloween was right around the corner, and I had to figure out a game plan for dealing with Quirrell and the Stone, even if I wasn't going to have to battle a troll.
"Have all of you finished your History essay for tomorrow?" I asked, changing the subject.
"Oh no," Neville moaned. "That must have been why the Remembrall was red!"