The school year ended just as fast as it had unfolded. It had all been a blur of classes and exams and more classes, before they were all pushed onto the Hogwarts Express by the increasingly distraught staff. Things were worse than ever on the outside, and every week the Daily Prophet had an entire page dedicated to deaths and missing persons.

Yet life continued. It found ways in which it could. Sometimes it was beautiful, like in the way James jumped out of the train before it came to a stop and ran to his parents -crashed into them, really- before hugging them as lovingly as he could. Sometimes it was magical, like in the way Fleamont Potter had called Sirius his son, when he had joined them onto the platform. Sometimes it was painful, like in the way Lily had smiled at James above her mother's shoulder, a tight, tired smile he did not return.

Then the days had melted into each other. Bright and warm, summer had been a welcomed pause from the franticness of those last days of school. Being with his parents for the first time in months made James realise just how much he had missed them.

So it was all the more painful, when he found himself unable to spend as much time as he wanted with them. Yes, life was cruel that way. When Sirius and him were not confined in their rooms, they were politely asked to entertain themselves outside. As if they were children.

They didn't mind it the first time, nor did they question the purpose of the dozens of wizards coming and going from the Potter Manor. But after an entire week of the same pattern repeating, they grew curious and started pushing for answers.

"Later," always said Euphemia. "You're not old enough."

"Is it about the war?" always replied James. "Because if we are old enough to see our friends die, I think we're old enough for a meeting about the war."

"James, sweetheart, I love you. But you're too young."

And the door of Euphemia's study closed again and again, leaving the boys out. They had tried every spell they knew, given their best polite smiles and questioning eyes, all in vain. And when Fleamont had offered them to invite Remus and Peter over for the rest of the holidays, in exchange for their promise to not fly up to the windows of the study on their brooms to listen in on the meetings, they had accepted immediately.

It felt a bit dishonest, because in no way did they intend to keep that promise, but Fleamont should know better than to trust them, so it didn't seem like a real betrayal.

Remus and Peter arrived in early August, and were just as intrigued by what was going on as James and Sirius. Quickly, they established a routine of watching the people entering and leaving, and they even kept a list of their names and what they knew about them.

Amongst the people they knew were McGonagall, Dumbledore and two of the Prewett brothers as well as Alice and Frank. More than anything, the fact that Alice was allowed to participate in those secret activities drove James up the wall. She was barely two years older than him.

"I'm of age!" he argued with Fleamont over and over again. "If she can be a part of this, why can't I?"

"Alice is a trained Auror and you're still in school."

"But I-..."

"There will be no further discussion. We love you, son. But you're just too young."

It was infuriating.

From what they gathered from their various spying sessions, this mysterious group hosted by the Potters called themselves the Order of the Phoenix, and was led by Dumbledore. Amongst the members, Remus recognised a few people that healed him after the attack on Hogsmeade, and James was losing his mind over his parent's involvement in an organisation he could only assume was dangerous.

They were too old for this. They should have been planning their retirement, kitting on the porch, reading newspapers and baking biscuits. Not this. Not hosting a vigilante group, fighting for justice against mass killers and supremacists.

It was a terrible way to grow old. It was a terrible way to grow up, too.

A terrible way to live.

So the Marauders spent their summer chasing after squirrels in the Potters' yard, zooming on brooms in the forest, getting covered in mud and leaves and moss, soaking in what they all knew was their last summer as boys. Because they all knew they would soon need to be men.

They were in the backyard throwing stones in the pond when the owl arrived. There was only one, but it carried four envelopes, one for each of them, stamped with the Hogwarts emblem.

James untied the envelopes from the owl's leg before distributing them to his friends and opening his own. Inside were two pieces of parchment: the first one was the usual reminder that term started on the first of September, the second one was the list of manuals they would need to acquire. The third one James had never received before, and he had to read it three times over to understand its meaning.

It couldn't be.

He turned the envelope upside-down in his hand, and a red and gold badge fell in the palm of his hand.

But it couldn't be. He couldn't be...

"Head boy?" he read softly, still in disbelief.

The concerned tone in his voice alerted his friends, who raised their heads to look at him.

"What'd you say, Prongs?"

"I- I think I'm Head Boy." James adjusted his glasses on his face, blinked and frowned at the paper, but nothing he did changed the words he read. Past the first second of hesitation, Sirius leapt forward and grabbed the letter from James' hands.

"Are you sure this isn't meant for Moony?"

"No, it's- it's mine. I mean, it says my name on the letter."

There was a pause in which Sirius quickly scanned the paper with his eyes, then turned it around as if he was expecting to see the definite proof that this was some kind of prank. Peter was staring, mouth agape, and Remus looked uncharacteristically lost.

"Well, it's official," finally said Sirius." Dumbledore's lost his mind. I knew he was much too old to still be headmaster."

"He must have his reasons," said Remus, holding out his hand. "Give it here."

Sirius handed the letter over to Remus who inspected it carefully, while Peter almost broke his neck trying to read above his shoulder.

"Congrats, mate."

"Thanks."

"I wonder who's the Head Girl."

James didn't. He knew who it was, who it had to be, because fate was too cruel to pass on such a golden opportunity to make his life a living hell.

But he simply shrugged.

"My parents are gonna to freak out."

"Yeah, they will."

And they did. The same evening, Euphemia and Fleamont threw a massive party to celebrate. Nothing too eccentric, but there were five different types of cake and a chocolate fountain. It was one of the only moments James truly got to spend with his parents this summer, and they were to board the Hogwarts Express only three days later. It was bittersweet, this feeling.

The letter from Hogwarts had told what would be expected of him as Head Boy, including the instructions he was supposed to give to the rest of the prefects in their carriage in the Hogwarts Express. Needless to say, although he had learn that list by heart, it was immediately wiped from his mind the second he set foot on the platform.

Seeing all the students, all so young and so small in their uniforms, rushing inside the train with excited smiles, it made it all real. He was responsible for them and for their safety. It seemed liked an immense, impossible task, to care for all of them at the same time. He didn't want that responsibility, never asked for it.

He wasn't mature enough, not grown-up enough, as Lily had told him a thousand times last year. How was he supposed to keep those kids safe and disciplined, when he himself was the least disciplined kid around?

Euphemia straightened the shining badge on James' chest and made a last desperate attempt at flattening his hair.

"Be good, do good, write to us and give our best to Dumbledore," she said, pulling him into a tight hug.

"That's a lot of things, I'm not sure if I can manage all of that."

"James Fleamont Potter..."

"I will, mom. Promise." She gave him a loving pat on the cheek before turning to Sirius. Peter was already loading their trunks inside the train, and Remus was a few feet away, kneeling in front of a crying little girl who seemed to have lost her family in the crowd.

He was good at this. It came naturally to him, helping others. He was the obvious choice for Head Boy, or at least that was what everyone thought. James didn't have his patience or his subtlety, he never knew what to say when someone was crying, and of course he was willing to help, he always was, but he didn't know how.

That was why getting the position had been a shock to him. He had done nothing to deserve it. Remus on the other hand... And yet, past the initial surprise, Remus had been nothing but happy for his friend. Not an ounce of jealousy, never, or if there was, he hid it well.

What a perfect, perfect man.

"Ready to go, mate?" Sirius tapped James on the shoulder and they hugged their parents goodbye one last time before entering the train. Remus joined them a second later, and they set out to their usual carriage to find Peter.

Once they got there, James slumped on the seat next to Peter and closed his eyes, trying to enjoy the last few seconds he would spend with his friends before leaving to the Prefect carriage. Thank Merlin, Remus was going to come with him. He probably wouldn't have survived it on his own.

The train was just beginning to leave the station when the door of the carriage slid open.

"Remus, it's time." The voice made James jump, because he didn't expect it, not here, not now. He snapped his eyes opened, and it was Lily standing at the door, and it was the Head Girl badge pinned proudly on her chest, because how could it not be?

"Potter, give Remus back his badge." It hurt, how she wouldn't look at him in the eye. How she wouldn't call him by his name, like she used to.

"It's mine."

"What?"

"It's my badge, Lily." He struggled to control his tone, for he wanted it to be flat and emotionless, like he didn't care that she was standing here. Like his heart hadn't jumped to his throat, like his breath didn't catch. Like he wasn't about to tell her exactly what she didn't want to hear. "I'm Head Boy."