9 March 1974
It was a cloudy, dreary Saturday afternoon, and Remus was tucked into his customary cot in the Hospital Wing, recovering from the previous night's full moon with the Daily Prophet spread out on his lap. James, Sirius, and Peter were all seated around the bed as well; James and Peter occupied the wooden chairs on either side of the cot, while Sirius was sprawled across the mattress near Remus's feet. An enormous tin of Chocolate Frogs—an early birthday present to Remus from his friends—was propped open on the center of the bed, surrounded by empty Chocolate Frog wrappers.
"Amato Animo Animato Animagus…Amato Animo Animato Animagus…"
Remus looked up from his newspaper, half-amused, half-exasperated. Sirius's eyes were closed and his expression was screwed up in immense concentration, the tip of his wand placed against his heart as he muttered under his breath.
"Do you have to do this now?" Remus asked him, rolling his eyes. "Isn't it bad enough that I've got to listen to James sing it in the shower every morning?"
Sirius didn't respond, but James glanced at Remus over his copy of Seeker Weekly. "He forgot to do it yesterday evening—he's got to do it two extra times today to make up for it."
Remus sighed softly, shaking his head as he picked up the Prophet again. After four long and challenging months—which had included carrying Mandrake leaves in their mouths for three-and-a-half weeks, concocting an extremely precise potion in crystal phials, and mastering several complex Transfiguration concepts—James, Sirius, and Peter had arrived at the penultimate stage of the transformation process: daily meditation at sunrise and sundown, while reciting a positively infuriating incantation forty-seven times. After two months of these daily recitations, the three boys hoped, with the touch of their wand-tips to their chests, that they would at last be able to sense a second heartbeat. With the help of their fully-brewed Animagus potions, they would then finally be ready to attempt the actual, physical transformation—although, according to the manuscript, this was the part of the process where most Animagi hopefuls encountered obstacles, such as permanent half-human, half-animal mutations—and in some cases, death.
"Where's the rubbish bin?" James asked suddenly, pulling Remus out of his musings. He glanced up; James was attempting to move the heaping pile of chocolate wrappers off Remus's bed.
"By Madam Pomfrey's office door," Remus told him.
"Ah, summon it for me, will you, Peter?"
"I haven't learned the Summoning Charm properly yet," Peter said nervously. "Where's your wand?"
"Upstairs, I reckon. I can't find it."
"You left it in the dormitory again?" Peter asked in disbelief, and Remus rolled his eyes, too; it was a long-standing joke between the four of them, the fact that James could never seem to grow out of his tendency to leave his wand lying about.
"Seems like it," James said, sounding unconcerned.
"What if something attacks you, one of these days? What are you going to do without your wand?"
"What on Earth is going to attack me in the Hospital Wing, Pete?"
"I don't know, but…"
Remus let the familiar sounds of his friends' squabbling wash over him, turning back to his newspaper. The front page had a large picture of Eugenia Jenkins splashed across the top, along with the headline 'MINISTER FOR MAGIC INSISTS THREATS OF DARK ACTIVITY OVERBLOWN.' Underneath this article was another one about recent changes within the Department of Magical Law Enforcement…Remus skimmed over it…and then, suddenly, tucked near the bottom of the page, Remus caught sight of a headline that made him pause: 'Muggle-born couple found dead in Derby; authorities suspect Death Eater involvement.'
Remus stared down at the headline for a long moment. It was not the first article about the death of a Muggle-born he'd seen in the past several months—but it was the first one that had a suspect attached to it. Death Eater. The words sent an unexpected shiver chasing down Remus's spine—they sounded eerily familiar, even though he was certain that he'd never heard them before.
He glanced up at his friends. "Hey—have any of you ever heard of…Death Eaters?"
Peter shook his head, looking mystified—but James's expression was thoughtful.
"Sounds familiar," he said slowly, frowning. "Are they a band or something?"
Remus opened his mouth to respond, but before he could say anything, Sirius made a strangled noise in his throat. Remus, James, and Peter all turned to look at him. He was still muttering the Animagus incantation under his breath, but his eyes were wide and alert, and his posture was tense.
Remus stared at him. "You know what a Death Eater is?"
Sirius nodded vigorously.
"What is it?" James asked, raising his eyebrows.
Sirius shot James an annoyed look, raising his hand and pointing it at his mouth—he was still reciting the incantation. Then, turning back to Remus, Sirius gestured at the newspaper, his expression inquisitive.
Remus frowned. "What—?"
"He wants you to read the article," James interrupted. "What does it say about Death Eaters?"
"Oh," Remus gave a little start, turning back to the newspaper and quickly scanning the article. Two Muggle-borns were discovered dead in their bed Friday evening…Aurors determined the cause of death to be the Killing Curse…the attack has been attributed to a recently exposed band of individuals called "Death Eaters," an organization of—
"—pure-blood supremacists," Remus read aloud, his stomach sinking. He glanced back up at his friends. "They're pure-blood supremacists."
James's expression melted into one of disgust. "I know where I've heard of them," he said in a low voice. "I overheard my uncle telling my dad about them on Christmas Eve." James's uncle Caradoc was a high-ranking official in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, Remus knew.
"…Amato Animo Animato Animagus—they aren't just supremacists," Sirius burst out suddenly, panting, as he finished his forty-seventh recitation at last. "They're radicals—they practice the Dark Arts."
Remus looked at Sirius in surprise. "How d'you know that?"
A dark look crossed Sirius's face. "I remember my cousin and her husband mentioning them at Christmas dinner."
"Your cousin—Andromeda?" Peter asked, sounding utterly bewildered.
"No—would Meda be invited to Christmas dinner?" Sirius demanded, sounding resentful. "It was Bella."
"What did she say about them?" James asked curiously.
Sirius scowled. "That she thought they had the right idea about Muggle-borns," he said contemptuously. "And then, my entire family agreed—as if we aren't all related to one. It's like Andromeda never existed."
Remus exchanged a look with James.
"Mate," James said quietly. "We know you don't feel the same way they do—"
"Doesn't change the fact that I'm related to them, does it?" Sirius asked bitterly, glaring down at his knees. "I'm a Black. Toujours Pur," he added in a scornful voice.
Remus stared at Sirius. He had always known Sirius's relationship with his family to be a contentious one, but he'd never heard Sirius say anything like this before—like he actually resented their existence. In fact, he'd never heard Sirius speak more than one terse sentence at a time about his family; his friend was typically very quiet on the subject. Remus glanced at James and Peter. Peter, too, was staring at Sirius in shock—but James's expression was curiously determined.
"Let's come up with a name," he said suddenly, closing his magazine and sitting up straight.
Remus frowned at him. "A name?"
"Yeah," James nodded. "A name for ourselves."
Remus raised his eyebrows. "What, you've decided 'Moony' isn't embarrassing enough?"
James grinned, shaking his head. "No—I meant a name for all of us," he said. "A group name—you know, like 'Death Eaters,' except—well, something that expresses our mission."
"Our mission?" Remus laughed. "And what exactly would that be?"
"Making our teachers' lives hell," James said promptly.
Peter laughed—and with a twinge of relief, Remus saw a corner of Sirius's lips twitch.
"Well, believe it or not, I've already got a name for you two," Remus said lightly, pointing from James to Sirius.
Sirius looked around, frowning, and James narrowed his eyes suspiciously.
"The Gryffin-dolts," Remus said, smirking.
Peter giggled as James and Sirius both threw empty Chocolate Frog boxes at Remus. Remus ducked to avoid them—but with James's unerring aim as a Chaser, his box managed to hit Remus squarely on the forehead nonetheless. Rubbing his forehead, Remus threw James a dirty look. James smirked.
"How about the Adventure Seekers?" asked Sirius. "For a name, I mean."
"Hmm," James said thoughtfully, wrinkling his nose. "It's not really…catching, is it?"
"Are you joking?" Remus asked James in disbelief. "Adventure Seekers isn't catching, but Moony is?"
"Hang on—that's it," James said excitedly. "We can be the furry little problem-solvers—because that's what we're doing, isn't it? We're solving Moony's furry little problem!"
There was a moment of stunned silence, as Remus, Sirius, and Peter all stared at James.
Then— "James," Sirius said slowly. "That makes us sound like small, hairy detectives."
They all burst into laughter—and once they started, it was difficult to stop. Remus could feel the tension of the past several minutes—Sirius's family, Death Eaters, the ominous newspaper headline—melting away, as he fell back against his pillows, clutching his ribs. They were all laughing so hard that none of them heard Madam Pomfrey's office door open or saw the matron herself descend upon the infirmary, her expression stern.
"Now, really," she snapped, sweeping toward Remus's cot, arms crossed. "What is all this racket about? Mr. Lupin needs to rest, and he certainly won't be able to do that with the three of you disturbing him. Come along, now, off you go—"
"Oh, Madam Pomfrey, not again," James groaned. "We weren't disturbing him—we were just having a bit of fun!"
"Yes, well, I'm afraid I cannot allow fun in my Hospital Wing, Mr. Potter—"
"We've brought him chocolate," Sirius protested, pointing at the half-eaten tin of Chocolate Frogs near Remus's feet. "We're helping him get better, ma'am, we promise."
"And Remus wants us here, Madam Pomfrey," Peter added, his tone earnest. "Don't you, Remus?"
"I do," Remus agreed, looking at the matron beseechingly. "Please, ma'am—can't they stay?"
Madam Pomfrey looked at him—and not for the first time did Remus wonder whether she had worked out that he had confided in his friends about his condition. Remus could have sworn that he saw her expression soften, ever-so-slightly.
At last, with a disapproving sniff, the matron strode over to Remus's bedside table and measured a generous amount of pain-relieving potion into a goblet. "Here," she told him, handing him the goblet. "Drink this, and your friends can stay."
Remus beamed at her, accepting the pain potion. Meanwhile, out of the corner of his eye, he saw James punch Sirius's shoulder jubilantly.
Madam Pomfrey rolled her eyes. "The four of you ought just to move your things in here," she huffed, as she turned around and swept back toward her office. "Between Pettigrew's Potions accidents, Potter's Quidditch injuries, and Black's corridor brawls, I'm going to need to hire an entire hospital staff to keep you all in order, always marauding about the castle, getting yourselves hurt…" With a sharp click, the office door snapped shut behind her.
Remus shook his head in amusement as he raised the goblet of pale blue potion to his lips and took a sip. Grimacing at the vinegary taste, he leaned back against his pillows and closed his eyes.
"Hey—what did she just say about us?" asked James's voice suddenly.
Remus opened his eyes. "What?" he asked, frowning at James.
"She just said something about us," James continued, eyebrows furrowed. "That we're always…maroading around the castle."
"Marauding," Sirius corrected. "It means exploring, I reckon."
"Not quite," Remus shook his head. "It means…looting, or raiding. Marauders are explorers that are after something—like treasure."
"You mean, like pirates?" Peter asked excitedly.
Remus hummed thoughtfully. "Sort of."
"No—you mean, like outlaws," James said in an awed voice, his eyes gleaming. "We aren't after gold—we're after the glory."
Remus looked at James. "Exactly."
James's grin was luminescent. "Marauders—that's what we are."
"It's got a ring to it," Sirius mused, snatching up a Chocolate Frog from the tin and stretching out on the foot of Remus's bed again.
Author's Note:
Hi, everyone! I have a not-so-subtle announcement to make: I will be publishing a BIG, FUN holiday project tomorrow, so keep your eyes peeled! :D
Ari
