I decided to write this fanfic, after The Order of the Phoenix ruined the plot for my other story. It starts in first year and concentrates on the marauders. Since I'm not a native English speaker, I desperately need a beta for this story, so if you want to do that, e-mail me at belandragmx.de. I'd be very grateful. If you don't want to beta read, I'd appreciate a review as well. Thanks.
Well, here we go. I hope you enjoy the story.
Chapter 1: First ImpressionsIt was a cool and windy Sunday morning. The streets of London were comparatively deserted, without all the cars of people trying to get to work. There were just a couple of busses, shipping tourists from one sight to the other, and a few pedestrians walking the streets lazily and looking in one of the shop windows from time to time. The atmosphere was that kind of relaxed as you often meet it on days, when everybody is at ease and nobody has to hurry to get to an appointment. But that apparent peace was suddenly broken by a fast car steering into the street leading to Kings Cross station with squealing tires. A young boy of about eleven years clung to his seat in the front passenger seat, his eyes shut tightly. When he felt the car going straight again, he opened them tentatively, but didn't let go of the bottom of his seat he had clutched in his hands.
"I'm really sorry, that I can't take you to the train but just drop you off. If it hadn't been for that emergency call, I would have seen you off," said a black-haired, stressed looking Mr Potter to his son, as he pulled the violent orange Ford into the parking lot of Kings Cross station.
He had to be at work in ten minutes for a last minute notice meeting about some attack on a wizard who lived in Derbyshire. The man claimed, that a dark wizard had attacked him last night making trees grab him and shove him over a small fence into the river, when he had been on his way home from his favourite bar.
Although the incident sounded funny, James knew that such reports about any dark activity had to be taken very seriously. They lived in a comparatively quiet time, with not many occurrences of that kind, but still neglect to inquire in such cases of possible dark attacks could be disastrous.Although it sounded more like an usual case of drinking too much and seing monsters at every turn.
"That's okay Dad, really no big deal," James replied, to ease his father's anxiety, trying very hard to conquer that slight feeling of disappointment. His mother hadn't been able to come, because she was working the early shift at St. Mungo's today. His Dad had been supposed to take him to the train, but now he was only able to drop him off at the station, before apparating to the ministry, in order to save time.
James started looking around for a free parking spot, but apparently Sunday morning at 9.15 was a very bad time to attempt that, for every single parking space seemed to be occupied. But Mr Potter didn't seem to mind the lack of possibilities to deposit of his vehicle. Unconcerned he raced right to the front of the station building and swerved left abruptly. James heart stopped for a second, as he feared that the car was going to slam right into two other cars parked in front of them. But, as if sensing the danger, they suddenly moved to the sides leaving a sufficient amount of space for the Potter's car.
Mr Potter, who had noticed James's reaction grinned shortly, but came right back to business. Turning the engine of, leaving the car and heaving his sons trunk out of the back was a matter of seconds, before he turned to James, who had taken a little more time to get out of the car and was still a little shaken.
"Well that's it then. What platform does the train start from?" Mr Potter asked hurriedly.
"6 1/3," replied James at once. He knew his letter from Hogwarts by heart, having read it again and again over the course of the summer.
"6 1/3? That's not the one you enter by using the ticket machine. No, I think that's 4 1/7. Well, you can enter most platforms by walking trough the barriers dividing the muggle platforms, so you should try that. But there was also one where you have to tell your destination to an advertisement before it let's you through. Could be 6 1/3, but I don't remember for sure. It's been ages since I last used the train."
Mr Potter had started his speech rather distractedly, but as the moment of farewell was finally upon them, he calmed down a bit and surveyed his son for a last time. Damn the meeting, this was his only son, who would be leaving for Hogwarts and whom he wouldn't be seeing till Christmas. Well, hopefully considered the fact, that James seemed to be attracting trouble as lights attracted moth.
James looked almost as usual with his messy black hair, which his mother hadn't succeeded to tame yet (which wasn't for lack of trying though), and the loop-sided grin on his face. But the hazel eyes, that were hidden behind horn-rimmed glasses looked slightly anxious today. But after all, this was the first time, that James left his parents house for such a long time and was going somewhere, he hardly knew anybody. Mr Potter tried to remember the day he went to Hogwarts for the first time. Man, that seemed to have been in the last century.
"You'll do fine, James. Knowing you, I'm sure you'll find friends in no time," he said encouragingly. Then he pulled him into a tight embrace and ruffled his hair when they pulled apart.
"Bye Dad. Write to me about what you'll find out about that attack in Derbyshire, will you?"
"Sure, and you keep yourself out of trouble. Oh, and try to get sorted into Gryffindor, ok? Love you, James," said Mr Potter.
James waved his Dad good-bye, who was looking around carefully and was gone by a swerve of his cloak, when he was sure no muggle was watching.
James entered the station with difficulty; his trunk kept getting stuck on the pavement. Somebody really should invent a trunk with wheels on the bottom, thought James. But older wizards probably wouldn't bother pulling their trunk; they could just levitate it.
The clock over the entrance told James, that he had still 40 minutes left, before the train would be leaving, So he could take his time to get onto the platform, find a seat on the train and even look around the station for a while.
Something important seemed to be going on in London that day, because muggles seemed to be growing out of thin air everywhere. Most of them were wearing funny clothes or were draped in scarves, either green and white or yellow-blue coloured. James heard them talk about something that sounded like soccer finals, as he passed a group of young boys all wearing green boxers and a green-white patterned shirt. He had no clue what soccer was, but it seemed to be something important. Well that at least explained the cramped parking lot.
Swerving in and out of the groups in order to avoid a collision, James watched the muggles in interest. He had never seen such a great number of them together. They weren't always dressed like that, were they, he wondered. The jeans and T-shirt his parents had given to him as pronounced muggle clothing looked completely different. But James felt also a little concerned, watching them. It would be hard to get onto the magical platform unnoticed, with the station so packed with muggles.
Luckily everybody seemed too preoccupied talking about that soccer match, to notice the slim figure of an eleven-year-old wizard and so James reached the barrier between platforms 6 and 7 without drawing attention. Unobtrusively he reached out to touch the barrier. It was solid. He checked for a second time and still it didn't give way to his pressure. Scanning the platform up and down, James noticed a wall where a large advertisement for cigarettes was placed. Remembering what his father had told him, James approached it slowly. It featured a man and a woman in cool summer clothing, who seemed to be in conversation, but both had a lighted cigarette in their hands. What struck James first was that the people in the pictures were not moving; they seemed to be oddly stiff. Even after watching them for a while he couldn't see a trace of movement in them. Was that a kind of a game they played, like kids often played, who could hold still without moving longer than the other? Feeling slightly stupid for addressing pictures that showed no sign of life, James told them his desire.
"Err, I want to board the 10 o'clock train to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Is this the entrance to the platform?" he said.
Nothing seemed to happen first. The people still were not moving and James thought about repeating his question, when the writing on the picture, which had been telling about the risks of smoking, suddenly became a green blur. After swirling a few seconds the blur rearranged itself to form a single word.
'Name?'
"Err, James Potter," said James uncertainly.
Again the words rearranged themselves, now spelling:
'You're checked on the list. Just proceed straight through the gate (advertisement). We hope you will enjoy the ride and choose to travel with the Magical Rail Network again the next time. Have a good day.'
"Err, thanks. You too," said James, still staring at the two figures on the picture, hoping to catch one of them off guard and see them moving. But they wouldn't do him the favour and so he walked through the advertisement, after checking its solidity again. This time his hand didn't hit solid wall, but vanished behind it, so James thought it safe to proceed with his whole body.
Being so early, James was one of the first students to board the train and got an empty compartment. He pushed his trunk into a corner, left his cloak on the seat near the window and decided to go outside again, to stretch his legs and watch the other students arriving on the platform gradually. He would have to sit down long enough on the ride.
The older students were calling out to each other, trying to get the attention of their friends and started forming little groups that boarded the train together in the attempt to get compartments to themselves. James watched a boy, who was squeezing himself between two groups of people in order to reach another boy, who was still saying farewell to his little siblings. He joked with them and ruffled through their hair affectionately. The girl, who was at least five years younger than him, clung to his robes as he embraced his mother and then shook hands with his father. The scene made James painfully aware of the absence of his own parents and so he turned away, just to discover a couple, that seemed to be glued together by the lips. Rolling his eyes, James turned again to walk back to the train, but collided with somebody who knocked him over. Looking up, he encountered the face of a dark haired girl with heavy lidded eyes of about seventeen or eighteen years old. He would have thought her to be quite beautiful, if it hadn't been for the furious expression with which she chose to look down at him.
"Watch where you're going," she spat at him.
James was just going to retort, that it had been her who had run into him, when she turned around, giving her trunk a sharp tuck, so that it hit him in the side very painfully.
Massaging his throbbing side, James got up from the ground and shot her retreating back a dark glance. He felt his temper rising and was just prepared to go after her to demand an apology, when he heard her talking.
"First muggles block the station, so it's almost impossible to get onto the platform, and now stupid first years, that are too dim to stay out of a persons way," she complained to the man walking beside her. "You should have just cursed those muggles out of the way, Dad."
With a stab of surprise, James recognized the tall man she was talking to. It was Pollux Black, a wizard he had seen at the Ministry of Magic before. His Dad had told James quite a few stories about Mr Black and his brother, all involving dark magic and breaches of the wizarding law. Nothing had been proofed against them of course, since the family of the Blacks was a very ancient and, what was more important, wealthy family of purebloods. They had caused Mr Potter some trouble over the years, as he had tried to pin them down for any of their crimes, without success. If that girl belonged to that family, it would explain her bad temper and her abhorrence of muggles, James thought, as he was winding his way back to his compartment. The excitement of the morning had vanished and been replaced by very grumpy feelings.
He noticed another trunk as he entered the compartment, but it's owner was nowhere to be seen. The nametag told James, that the trunk belonged to a certain Severus Snape. Having nothing else to do, he settled himself in his seat and started looking out of the window, where he noticed another girl, with blonde hair, had joined the Blacks. She seemed to be the younger sister of the first one, whom she resembled strikingly, except for the hair. And she wore an expression on her face like someone who had something smelly under her nose, as she watched a lost looking first year girl and her parents, who were definitely muggles.
Another family was approaching the Blacks. It consisted of the parents and two boys. To James great surprise the father of the family looked exactly like Pollux Black. Of course he had known of the Black brothers Castor and Pollux, but James had never been aware of the fact that they were identical twins. James leaned back in his seat as he watched them out of the window. The two wizards were talking to each other. It seemed that they had been talking about their kids, for they suddenly turned their attention to one of the two boys that had accompanied Castor Black. It was the elder and was leaning on a huge trunk with an empty owl-cage placed on top of it. His face was flushed and he grinned sheepishly as he said something to his father, who looked back at him reproachfully.
"That's the Blacks you're staring at," said a snarling voice from behind James.
James jumped and wheeled around to face the voice. He hadn't noticed anybody enter the compartment. It turned out, that the voice belonged to a short, skinny boy of about James's age, who had short dark hair that definitely needed a wash.
"Pollux, Castor, Bellatrix, Narcissa, Sirius and Regulus," the skinny boy counted them off and pointed at each of them in turn. Then he turned to James again and scanned him quickly.
James was slightly taken aback, by the other boys behaviour and didn't know what else to say, other than:
"You know them?"
"My Dad works with Mr Black. I've seen them around sometimes. Looks like Sirius is starting school this year as well," the boy said.
Great, thought James. So it's not only one kid in my year, that's going to be an insufferable pureblood maniac, but two of them. They'll probably start getting matey with each other at once. And he, James had to be stuck in a compartment with one of them. He had imagined his first day of school to be somewhat pleasanter.
"And who are you?" he snapped rather harsher than he had intended to. His bad temper seemed to be getting the better of him.
"Severus Snape," said the other one in mild surprise. "and you are James Potter. At least I can read," he said, indicating the trunks.
James felt slightly stupid.
During that conversation the train doors had closed and the train started to move. It gathered speed and left the station behind. Houses and trees flashed past the window. The compartment door opened and none other than Sirius Black stepped in.