(A/N) I have a question. Is there anyone out there who would like to Beta this story? I'd especially love a British Beta, or a Beta who's REALLY good with British culture. One who is good with the culture as well. It'll hep the believability of my story and help me learn more as well.
Also, I would like to apologise for the HUGE gaps between chapters. I am suffering from such a bad case of writers block that I can sit here for an hour and only get a paragraph done. And then I'm bored, and no good writing can come from that. Anyway, here it is. Enjoy!
We decided to carve our names into our beds after everyone had gone to sleep. Then we were to meet in the common room at midnight to carve our names into the door. Marco had found a really neat spell that would let us hide the carvings pretty well. Someone would have to be right up against the wall to see them. I was, I admit, very excited about this. One thing that had always saddened me was that my grandparents had never gotten to know the three of us, nor us them. This made me feel closer to my Granddad Potter, and that gave me a strange feeling inside, caught somewhere between loneliness and comfort.
"Ready?" Marco's soft voice pulled me out of my thoughts. We all nodded. Fie pulled a carving knife (I worried about why he had it) out of his pocket, and each of us took turns carving our names, speaking them as we did.
"Lewellyn Mabonagain Cadwalader." Lew screwed up his face in disgust at his name. I chuckled to myself.
"Your parents like long names, don't' they Lew?" I asked him.
"Stuff it," Lew muttered grumpily under his breath, carefully but forcefully shoving the knife into Kagan's hand.
"Kagan Robert Brady." Kagan handed the knife back to Fie.
"Fie Tarran Morrison," Fie said in his Scottish accent.
"Fred Gideon Weasley," Fred carved his name. "Named after one of my Great Uncles, Gideon Prewett." He handed it to Marco.
"Marco Galahad Quinn." Marco carved his name without another sound and handed the knife to me.
"James Sirius Potter." I handed the knife to Sam. We'd decided that she'd be last because, as Lew put it, "Everyone saves the best for last." We had all laughed.
"Samantha Marie Barnes," She carved her name with a certain artistic flourish.
We looked over the names and decided we liked Sam's carving skills best, so we let her carve our group name at the top.
"We who are gathered here" she stated, "Lewellyn Mabonagain Cadwalader, Kagan Robert Brady, Fie Tarran Morrison, Fred Gideon Weasley, Marco Galahad Quinn, James Sirius Potter, and Samantha Marie Barnes, will be here on and forever after known also as The Next Generation of Marauders. By carving our names on this wall, we have promised to stick by each other no matter what, and to abide by any rules that may be added, by mutual consent, at a later time." With that, she handed the knife back to Fie.
"That was one wicked speech, Marco," I said impressedly. "And kudos to you for memorising it that fast, Sam!"
"Thanks!" they said together.
"So…" I whispered conspiratorially, "what is our first prank going to be?"
"And when?" Fred asked excitedly.
"we'll talk about that tomorrow," Marco muttered with a yawn. "Because if we're going to plan out our routes to classes, we're going to need some sleep."
"He's right," I agreed finally. "We'll talk about this later."
We said our goodnights and clambered up the stairs to bed.
The next morning I was woken by Lew, who was grinning down at me.
"We've all got about twenty minutes before the Great Hall stops serving breakfast," he informed me. I flew out of the bed and got dressed. James Sirius Potter does NOT like to miss meals.
Once we had all finished eating, (and by this I mean the food disappeared), Marco pulled out his schedule and looked it over.
"So, why don't we plan out the routes on the map, and then walk them so we know for sure where they are?" he suggested.
"Sounds good," I agreed. "But we have to do it somewhere secret. I don't want anyone else to know about my map."
"We could try the kitchens," Fred suggested. "I know how to get into them."
"Thank you Uncle George!" I cried.
They looked at me weirdly.
"He's the one who told you how to get in, right?" I clarified.
"Yep!" Fred said happily, motioning for us to follow him. He led us down the staircase outside the hall.
"Don't the Hufflepuffs come this way?" Marco asked.
"The kitchens are really near the Hufflepuffs," Fred threw back over his shoulder. "I think that might be how the Fat Friar got so fat while he was alive."
"The Fat Friar?" Sam asked.
"He's the Hufflepuff ghost," I told her.
"And Ravenclaw has the Grey Lady," Fie told her. "Slytherin's got the Bloody Baron, and we've got Nearly Headless Nick."
"And we've all got Peeves!" Lew groaned, pointing. Along zipped Peeves the Poltergeist, his black hair sticking out oddly from under his bell-topped hat.
"Ooh! Ickle Firsties!" Peeves cackled. "What fun!"
"Hey, Peeves!" I said with a grin. "Oi, I've got information from Dom that Filch is going to be in the fourth floor corridor across from the statue of King Arthur." I pulled a few dung bombs out of my pocket. "How about some target practise?"
Peeves snatched the bombs from my hand and flew off down the corridor, shrieking with laughter.
"And that, my friends," I said with a bow, "is how you deal with Peeves."
Lew stared at me in awe. "You're a genius, you know that Potter? A bloody genius."
"Why thank you!" I said happily, nodding in his direction. "Now Fred, I was under the impression you were taking us to the kitchens?"
"Right!" he said, shaking himself. He bustled on forward.
"What was that?" Sam asked me, obviously thinking of Peeves.
"Peeves is a Poltergeist," I told her. "Loves to cause mischief. He also loves to annoy Filch, the caretaker, so if you ever want to get rid of him, you've got to figure out a way to help him do that."
"Or you could just hide under an invisibility cloak and pretend to be the Bloody Baron," Fred said with a laugh.
"Why?" Kagan inquired.
"Peeves is frightened of the Bloody Baron," I explained. "Other than him, Peeves listens to no one."
"Really?" Sam asked in surprise.
"Poltergeists don't care about what other people want," Fie explained. "Fred! How much farther?" he whined.
"Not much farther!" Fred called from the front of the pack.
A few minutes later, Fred stopped in front of a giant painting of a bowl of fruit.
"Ta-Da!" Fred sang. "The entrance to the kitchens!"
"Fred…" I said slowly, as if speaking to a small child. "This is fruit."
"No…" the redhead said, matching my tone exactly. "This-" he tickled the picture of a pear, "- is the entrance to the kitchens."
We watched in awe-stricken silence as the pear giggled and the painting swung forward.
"Wicked!" Fie whispered.
"Alright, everybody in!" Lew said, motioning us all forward. We filed in, and he followed at the end, the painting swinging closed behind him.
Without warning, many small creatures surrounded us.
"How may we help the young masters?" they asked.
"And missus!" one piped up.
"What are these?" Sam asked.
"We is house elves, miss!" one of them said happily. "How is we to help you?"
"We'll need a table and enough chairs for the seven of us," I said. "And a few snacks to tide us over."
"Yes, sir!" they cried. Within seconds, a table was set up with snacks sitting on it.
"Mmm! Chocolate!" Kagan said. I put some on the waffles the elves had kindly provided. I love waffles.
We sat down around the table and I pulled out my map, unfolding it and setting it in the middle.
"I solemnly swear that I am up to no good."
Once again, the map showed its secrets.
We sat there for a long while, tracing secret passages until we were pretty sure we had the shortest routes through our whole schedule.
"Now all we need to do is walk them!" Marco said. So we did.
We finished our excursions just before dinner, so we headed down early to the Great Hall.
"Oi! Cousin!" Dom called from the end of the Gryffindor table. "Come sit with us!"
We walked over to sit down.
"This is Jonah, and this is Marie," Dom introduced us to her to friends. "You two, these are my cousins James and Fred."
"Ah, the Prankster Pair!" Jonah said with a grin, holding his hand out to both of us in turn. "We hear a lot about the two of you."
"They are my two favourite cousins," Dom said with a smile.
"You know what they say…" I started.
"Birds of a feather," Fred said.
"Flock together!" the three of us finished together.
"Who are your friends?" Marie asked.
"Lew, Marco, Kagan, Fie, and Sam," I introduced them.
"There are a whole lot of Firsties this year," Jonah commented.
"I guess everyone waited until eleven years ago to decide it was safe enough for kids," Marie said with a shrug.
"My parents certainly did," I agreed. "And I'm glad. I like being the oldest."
"Lucky you," Dom pouted. "I don't like being youngest at all. And Louis takes the whole 'protective older brother' thing way too far. I don't need protection."
"Oh, yes you do!" Jonah said with a smile. "From yourself!"
Dom slapped him. "So did you get all your routes mapped out?" She winked at me.
Jonah shook his head. "With all you Weasleys around, we're going to have a lot of this 'inside story' stuff, aren't we?" Dom, Fred and I just grinned at him. Fred batted his eyelashes innocently.
Marie shook her head. "Your family is mad, Dom."
"Maybe that's why we all get along so well," Dom suggested.
"So, which classes are you looking forward to?" Marie asked.
"Potions!" Marco responded at once.
"Defence!" Lew said excitedly.
"Same," Fie agreed.
"Charms!" Kagan said. Fred nodded in agreement.
"And I can't wait for Transfiguration!" I said, grinning broadly.
Jonah chuckled disbelievingly.
"What's wrong with Transfiguration?" I asked defensively.
"Nothing!" he assured me. "I just figured, with who your Dad is and all, that you'd be looking forward to Defence most."
"My Granddad was best at Transfiguration," I told him. "And I think it sounds amazing."
He shrugged. "I suppose that makes sense."
Marie looked at Sam. "You haven't answered yet."
"I don't really know much about the classes," she said with a shrug.
We sat at the table with Dom and her friends, talking long after the food had appeared. We sat there so long that our Head of House, Professor O'Tifty, had to come and shoo us back to the common room. My mates and I set ourselves up around a table that Victoire kindly enlarged for us and began to plan our first prank. We went over idea after idea, none of them sounding right. Marco pulled out his magical (term used metaphorically) notebook again, but it was Lew who figured out a good one.
"What if…" he began with an evil grin. "We change all the Slytherins' robes to Gryffindor colours?"
We all exchanged a glance. "That sounds wicked!" Fie said quietly. "When?"
"Tomorrow?" Lew suggested.
"How about we wait until the Gryffindor-Slytherin Quidditch match?" I countered. "It's usually the first match of the year. And we can change the whole school's robes -even the teachers' - and everything."
Lew nodded slowly. "Excellent plan, mate. But how are we going to manage it?"
I looked sheepishly at the rest of them. "I was hoping you guys could come up with something."
Fred sniffed, pretending to cry. "Is- is that all I am - all we are to you? A research team?" He sniffled again and looked at me with puppy-dog eyes.
I looked at him, pretending to be offended. "How could you say that? Of course not!" I grinned evilly. "You're my personal servants, aren't you?"
Fred glared at me and stood up. Before I could realise what was going on, he tackled me to the ground and began to tickle me.
"S-s-stop!" I gasped through my laughter. "P-please! S-stop! I was laughing so hard my eyes were streaming with tears.
"This is a lovely thing to know…" Kagan said conspiratorially. "James is ticklish!"
I groaned through my laughing. Great. Now they all know.
"Um, guys?" Marco muttered quietly. "We're getting weird looks."
Fred stopped tickling me to look around at the other Gryffindors, some annoyed and some merely amused by our antics. I took advantage of his momentary distraction to escape. He glared and came at me again. I hid behind Marco, who somehow managed to stop Fred with a glare. Fred sat back down and stuck his tongue out at us both, pouting.
"Thank… you…" I panted, trying to catch my breath.
Marco just grinned. "What are friends for?" he asked.
I glared at Fred.
"Hopefully not the same thing as cousins."
(A/N)Sorry for the rather short chapter. It seemed like a really good place to end it. I promise to begin working on the next chapter as soon as this one is up.
Again with the names! =D I love them. So, here are the meanings for those who care.
Mabonagain: Scottish. A Knight
Galahad: English. Pure, Noble, and Selfless
Tarran: English. Thunder
Robert: English. Bright Flame
So, I recently stumbled across a fic in which the writer asks questions in order to get to know her viewers. So I will do the same, giving my own answer for each question as well. They will not be too personal (I won't ask for names or anything like that) and if you don't want to answer, don't feel that you need to. This is for fun only.
Question of the chapter: Are you a guy or a girl? For those of you who don't know / haven't guessed, I'm a girl.