Hi everyone :)

I hope, I am doing this right... This is my first time here uploading here, but this Story is crossposted on ao3. I wrote the Prolog years ago and now I wrote some more because the idea kept bugging me. I am very sorry for any mistakes made - english is not my first language…

Anyway, I hope you will enjoy it and - if you can find the time, tell me what you think of it ;)

Disclaimer: I don´t own anything, I just play with the characters. Also no money is made with this.

Prolog

"Are we sure, we want to do this?", a calm voice asked, one last time just for measure.

"I think you already know the answer to this Moony! Let´s get started!", answered a dark-haired boy with eyes made of a storm´s grey, while looking at his friends. They had gathered around a tiny cauldron, brewing with a liquid colored in the darkest shade of blue imaginable. Night had fallen and just a few flowing candles enlighten the classroom, empty if one would not count four fifteen-year-old boys.

"Padfoot is right! This is a once-in-a-lifetime-chance. It is tonight or never! We are the Marauders! And the Marauders live forever on. I say Mister Moony, we are sure and should not wait any longer!", another black-haired boy expressed himself. His hair looked like a bolt of lightning had shot through him, standing in all directions, untameable, while glasses decorated his faces.

Pushed from the others' enthusiasm the smallest of the four boys smiled and whispered: "Yes, Marauders forever! We are ready Moony! If there is any friendship that deserves to live on forever long we live, it is ours."

The pale-looking boy, who had asked nodded to himself. He had already known the answer but had to ask anyway. The spell he had modified for their purpose was not an easy one and in the worst case would change history, not to mention that it was dangerous and quite possibly not really legal.

The boy with the glasses looks up. "You remembered the extension?"

This made the pale one smile slightly: "I did Prongs, don´t worry. Should the worst case happen and none of us would live past forty, the last one to die will return to a point in time, where we will still be able to stop it and save ourselves. And those bound to us will accompany us. So if you were to marry Lily-"

"Which will never happen anyway!"

"Ouch!

"... she would return with you, as I was saying. Stop whining Padfoot! He didn´t really hurt you!"

"But -!"

"No. Anyway, we need to concentrate now." So the one called Moony started painting signs around the cauldron with his wand. The movements left behind four runes in a soft yellowish glow. Each of the for boys positioned himself on the spaces in-between. The mood turned solemn and grave as the candles seemed to lose some of their bright shine and the shadows on the wall grew. The fire beneath the caldron did its best to enlighten the room but was unable to stop the grave mood.

The pale one brushed his hazel hair out of his scarred face, as he raised his hands and began a long melodious chant. The silver-eyed boy - standing across of the chanter - concentrated on the potion, as he was doing most of the time, assisted by the small blonde on his right side.

The last place was occupied by the boy with a stormy hairstyle. He held a small knife in his hands. As the scarred wizard chanted on, he cut himself in the finger and led the blood quill out. One drop of the scarlet liquid fell into the dark blue sea below. He then pulled his finger away and gave the knife to his right. There the action was repeated and the knife once again switched its owner. The blonde looked around the room, gazing on each of his friends, bevor drawing a deep breath and allowing his blood to join the potion.

One last time the sharp blade changed hands as the chanting reached its climax. The knife sliced once again through the skin, this time without hesitation. Dropping the item, the chanter raised his hands once again, now glowing softly.

Lowering his voice to a murmur the one called Moony ended the modified incantation and cast it on the potion. The glow was transferred with it. Now the fluid almost seemed insubstantial, shining in dark blue.

For one moment time seemed to stand still. The four teenagers were gazing at each other, waiting, for what, they did not know.

It was the smallest, that broke the silence: "So now we just... drink it?"

"That is the plan. Now is the last opportunity to back out..."

"Don´t you get cold feet now Moony! We´re doing this!", called out the glass-wearing black-haired as the other dark-haired transfigured four buttons into small cups with a grin. A swish with his wand transferred equal measures of the potion into each cup.

The boy continued: "We are doing this now. There are too much mischief and mayhem still to be done. This is to us, the Messers Prongs, Padfoot, Moony, and Wormtail. This world needs Marauders like us and thanks to this, we won´t have it going wrong too early! So Gentleman I say, drink!"

"Good talk Prongs, this was sooo motivating..." An intense glare was sent the speakers' way.

"Shut up Pads or I`ll pull on your hair again!"

Mister Padfoot yelped, bevor cry-whispering: " You wouldn´t dare! You-"

But bevor he could move on in his rant, a cough interrupted them.

The blonde just smirked at his three friends' actions, bevor relief for them being his friends rather than his enemies washed through him.

The four Marauders one last time looked at each other, bevor draining their cups.

*Mischief managed*