Disclaimer: I do not own anything Harry Potter
Prologue
A young boy with dark hair that stuck up untidily in the back hopped down the stairs and into the kitchen with the energy that only an 11-year-old boy can possess at 7:30 in the morning. He plopped himself down at the kitchen table where his mother was just placing his breakfast.
"Morning Mum," he greeted as he dug into the plate of scrambled eggs and toast now in front of him as his mother puttered around the kitchen making sure the dishes were washing themselves to her satisfaction.
"Morning hon," she replied, looking up as she finished examining a plate that had just rinsed itself. "Sleep well?"
"Yep, sure did. Hey, where's Dad? I thought he didn't have to work today." The boy inquired.
"He got called in early this morning, for an emergency. He said he'd be back by lunch. But of course I have no idea what he's doing, since he can't tell me anything," his mother replied wearily.
"Oh, that's too bad. Hey, I had the greatest dream last night! Wanna hear it?" he asked his mother.
"Sure," she said as she sat down with a plate of her own.
"Well it started out with these marshmallows, and they were as big as me, and we were all dancing around," the boy said, as he gesticulated wildly. "And then we decided to have a race, but since they don't have legs, they- Look Mum! There's an owl!" the boy interrupted himself. "I'm gonna let him in."
"Is it Achilles?" the mother asked.
"No, it's a different one," the boy said as he let the owl in. "And it's got a note. And it's for me! Yay!" and the boy took the note from the owl. "Here, I'll read it out loud. 'We are pleased to inform you that you have been...'"
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Across the country, a second young boy was getting up as well. While his hair colour was similar to that of the first boy's, this boy's hair was smooth and tamed.
The boy trudged down the stairs into the dining room, where his parents and younger brother were eating breakfast while their ugly houself stood behind the boy's mother, watching. "Morning," the boy said gloomily. His mother narrowed her eyes at him, but didn't say anything, while his father didn't even look up from the paper he was reading. His brother half-smiled at him. The boy sat down and began to eat in silence, not looking at the rest of his family.
As the family was finishing eating, an owl started tapping on the window of the dining room." Well don't just sit there," the boy's mother snapped. "Let it in!"
As the boy let the owl in, his parents watched him, scowling slightly. After the boy removed the envelope from the owl's leg, he looked to see whom it was addressed to. "Well, boy, who's it for?" his mother asked impatiently.
"It's for me!" the boy said, looking happier.
"Well, hurry up and open it. We haven't got all day," his father grunted from behind the paper. "And make sure you read it out loud."
"Fine," the boy said as he pulled the letter out of its envelope. "'We are pleased to inform you that you have been...'"
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A third boy made his way down the stairs of his house that morning to have breakfast. While he didn't prance like the first boy, he didn't drag his feet like the second boy either. He made his way tiredly to the kitchen, pushing his light brown hair out his eyes with his hand.
"Hello, Mum, Dad," the boy greeted his parents as he sank into a chair.
"Are you alright darling?" his mother asked him as she placed a cup of tea in front of him as he smiled thankfully.
"Yeah, I'm fine, just tired,"
"Well, now it's over for another month," his father pointed out, and the boy perked up slightly.
"Yeah, thank goodness. Oh, look Mum, there's an owl at the window." the boy said, pointing at the owl.
"Well so there is. I'll let it in," his mother said as she opened the window. "Darling, the letter's for you. Do you want me to read it aloud?" she asked her son.
"Yes please Mum," he said, watching her.
"Alright, here goes, 'We are please to inform you that you have been...'"
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A final boy made his way down the stairs of his house, later than the others had been. He was shorter than the rest, with light brown hair.
"Morning Mum," he said as he found his mother tidying the kitchen while a bowl of oatmeal sat in the middle of it.
"Morning, sleepyhead," she greeted with a smile. "Your father just went to the fire in the living room to talk with a coworker. He should be back any minute. Can you grab the broom for me? It's in the corner, beside the watering can," his mother asked, pointing to where the broom was.
"Sure," the boy replied, handing her the broom just as his father walked back into the room.
"Morning son," his father greeted with a pat on the back.
"Eat your breakfast before it gets cold," the mother scolded her son. "Oh, and an owl came with a letter for you a little while ago. It's beside your oatmeal."
"Okay, thanks Mum," the boy said as he sat down and reached for the letter. "Want to hear it?" He asked his mother.
She stopped her sweeping and looked at him. "Sure, honey read it out loud."
"Okay. 'We are pleased to inform you that you have been...'"
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And with these letters, four boys who didn't even know each other existed began to walk the path of their destinies. Destinies that would lead them to make the friendship of a lifetime. The kind of friendship where they would gladly die for one another. Or so they thought. This is their tale. The Marauders Tale.
AN: This is my first story, and I would appreciate it if there were no flames. If anyone wants to help me find a better name, that'd be great. The chapters are going to be longer, this one's just a prologue.