A/N: Thank you so much for reading my story! It means the world that I can share it and it can be read. Please do let me know what you think. Sometimes writing on here can feel a bit like I'm spewing my soul into a vacuum... If it lands, I'd love to know!

Chapter 6 - Autumn 1971

As autumn progressed, the weather grew cooler and the air became crisper. Leaves began to fall from the trees and gather in little clumps around the grounds.

James and Peter delighted in this, having many a leaf fight on the way to and from their herbology or quidditch lessons.

"I suppose you're too mature to play with us?" James teased his best friend, Sirius, as he stuffed a handful of leaves down the back of Peter's robes.

"Well, I am twelve next week." He said, grinning as Peter squealed and ran around in circles, desperately pulling leaves out from the back of his shirt.

"Ah, twelve." James said, nodding gravely. Then his expression changed. "What have you asked for for your birthday?"

"Nothing," Sirius replied, eyes still fixed on Peter, who was now bending over so as to better extract the intrusive leaves.

"Nothing?!" James cried, horrified. "But it's your birthday! They'll have to send you something."

"I doubt it." Sirius said, bending down to pick up his school bag and slinging it over his shoulder. "Come on, we'd better hot foot it to herbology. We're already late."

Sirius was quite right. His parents did ignore his birthday. Fortunately for him, however, the other marauders certainly didn't. They had a great feast in the bedroom, James having snuck down to the kitchens and nicked a whole platter of food from the house elves. Sirius seemed quite cheerful, despite his lack of gifts. And they rounded off the day by launching another expedition in the name of exploring the castle.

They were having so much fun that they completely forgot to keep their voices down, and, on the third floor, attracted, again, the attention of that old fun-killer, Filch.

He smiled when he saw them, a smile that showed his hideous, rotting teeth, and, before James or Sirius could run this time, grabbed them firmly by the arms. "Come with me." He said to the other two, who, unfortunately, James had convinced to come with them. After all, it was a birthday expedition. All marauders needed to be there.

Filch brought them straight to Professor McGonagall who, on seeing who it was, actually slammed her fist down onto her desk. "I cannot believe it. You two, again?" She spotted Remus and Peter. "And I see you've dragged Mr Pettigrew and Mr Lupin along with you this time."

She ushered them into her office where she lectured for what seemed to James like hours, though the minute hand on her clock had only moved a few places.

"Well, that's it. Clearly detentions are having no effect on you, so I'll just have to write to your parents."

"What?!" Both boys yelped at the same time.

"Not yours, Pettigrew and Lupin." McGonagall was saying to the others. "As it's your first offence, I'll let you off with a warning. Though you'd be well advised not to make a habit of this…" She turned back to James and Sirius. "I'll send an owl to your parents in the morning. Maybe that will finally have the desired effect." And she moved over to her office door, opened it, and pointed them out.

James glowered at their head of house all throughout breakfast the next morning. It was so unfair, he thought. He wasn't so much worried about his own parents, but to write to Sirius' family, and on his birthday. He knew his friend's parents would not be as understanding as his own, and he hated that their teacher had succeeded in making him so anxious and miserable.

"It's OK." He told his best friend, as he scanned the post owls anxiously. "She won't have had a chance to write yet." Yet… He knew there was no escaping the inevitable.

The inevitable came the very next morning. A giant black eagle owl soared over to their table, dropping the scarlet envelope it carried directly into Sirius' bowl and splattering him with porridge.

James gave his friend a sympathetic look. "Just do it." He said bracingly. Though never having received one himself, he'd seen once or twice what happened when students chose to ignore the screaming letters.

Resolved to his fate, Sirius opened the envelope and the hall was instantly filled with the loudest, shrillest most vitriolic voice James had ever heard.

He'd met Sirius' mother briefly on the platform at King's Cross. She hadn't looked especially bad then, maybe a little snooty, but not exactly evil. But this woman, the one who was shouting, was vicious. Her words were harsh and cutting, her insults direct and stinging. James looked at his best friend, horrified, but Sirius was simply staring ahead as though just waiting for it all to be over. Was this sort of thing normal for him?

Promising dire consequences the next time she saw him, the howler died down into ash. Several people laughed and cheered - all from the Slytherin table, James noticed.

He wanted to ask Sirius if he was OK. He, James, knew he wouldn't be in his friend's shoes. He'd probably be bawling his eyes out, truth be told. But Sirius was sitting rigid in his seat and had gone back to eating his breakfast as though absolutely nothing out of the ordinary had happened. Well, if he wanted to act like everything was normal, maybe that's exactly what James should do too.

Unfortunately, the howler was the source of many jokes amongst the Slytherins in the weeks that followed. Sirius couldn't pass them in lessons or corridors without a few choice lines from the thing being hissed at him.

"It's not fair." James said, casting the bat bogey hex at Mulciber, who had been the latest to insult Sirius. "I was out of bounds just as much as you were. It's a stupid thing for McGonagall to have done."

Unfortunately, the intended effect of the punishment never materialised. In fact, it could be said that it had the opposite effect. Though they did not break curfew again, Sirius was now getting into so many fights with the Slytherins that he was being reported to McGonagall more and more.

Sometimes James accompanied him on his trips to their head of house's office. Their latest misadventure had involved the two of them locking Snape in a broom closet in the entrance hall as he made his way to dinner. He'd not been discovered missing and rescued until nine o clock. James fought very hard not to laugh as Professor McGonagall told them this.

Fortunately, Sirius seemed to be back to his usual cheerful self. He entertained James with a very good impression of McGonagall's Scottish accent all the way back to the common room, and laughed just as hard as James did at the image of their nemesis trapped and wandless in a dark room for three hours. "Bet he pissed himself."

James wasn't too worried about getting in trouble. His parents had written to him following McGonagall's letter saying that if he was going to sneak around, he should be prepared to accept the consequences. But those didn't seem to be forthcoming from them. James knew they didn't mind what he did as long as it wasn't too dangerous and he was still attending his classes. They needn't have worried there. Despite the amount of time they spent messing around, he and Sirius usually came top in most of their classes, James excelling at transfiguration, Sirius at charms and defence against the dark arts.

As November drew to an end, James began looking forward to Christmas. He was desperate to see his parents again. Christmas at Potter Manor was always spectacular, and he knew it would be even more so this year, with all the stories and adventures he had from Hogwarts to share with them.

It had to be said, Christmas at Hogwarts was quite spectacular too. The great hall had been decorated with six enormous Christmas trees and the suits of armour around the hallways were adorned with Santa hats. Students were forced to avoid certain areas of the castle, where some moon-eyed teacher had hung great branches of mistletoe, and the atmosphere in the common was one of general merriment, as their first term drew to a close.

They were all gathered around the wizarding wireless one night, listening to a rendition of 'God Rest Ye Merry Hippogriffs'. The fire was crackling warmly in the hearth, Remus was wrapping presents for his parents and Peter was making yet another paperchain. Sirius was doing the crossword.

The carol finished, and then the radio newsreader's voice came on air, announcing that they had some breaking news to report. Sirius looked up from the crossword, Remus from his wrapping. James, who was already listening, did so even more intently.

I am very sorry to report the mass murder of sixty-two muggle children and six teachers in a primary school in Shropshire. Shropshire. That wasn't too far from him…

There can be no doubt that this was a wizard murder. The newsreader continued, in a very somber voice. There was no physical damage, meaning the avada kedavra must have been used, multiple times. There is no way to know how the attack was carried out, and if there was more than one perpetrator, but the act has sent shockwaves through the magical community, and Minister for Magic, Eugenia Jenkins, has assured everyone that the matter is being dealt with as a top priority.

The report continued. Detailing how the muggles involved needed extensive memory modification, and hospital records doctored, suggesting the children died from a gas leak. It was shocking, horrific. These children were younger than they were. James couldn't understand it.

"How awful," Remus whispered, looking just as horrified as James felt.

"It's happening." Sirius said. His expression was grim, and his eyes were trained on the fire. James could see the amber flames reflected in them.

"We all knew it was coming." He continued, turning to face the rest of them. He looked older, harsher, more serious than usual. "Haven't any of you read the papers? Haven't you seen the signs?"

"What signs?" James asked. He felt a little stupid. He felt young. He didn't read the papers, and he never listened when his parents spoke about the news. The news was boring. It was for old people. Why should he be interested in anything that was on the news?

"Well, things like this have been happening for months." Sirius explained. "First there were anomalies. The odd unexplained death here and there. It was clear something was going on, but no one actually called it murder. And then there were the Knights of Walpurgis."

"The what?" Asked Peter.

"Sort of like a radical group. They think only pureblood wizards should rule. They're all for the elimination of mudbloods. They want to cleanse the wizarding population and overthrow the statue of secrecy."

"They what?!" James exclaimed, completely horrified.

"Well, I'm not saying I agree with them." Sirius said a little defensively. "But some of the murders in the last month ended up being linked back to them. They'd done publicity work before. Written articles, given interviews, that sort of thing. But they'd never mentioned explicitly what they would be prepared to do to seize power. I guess now we know." And he gestured at the radio, where the newsreader was, indeed, now discussing the group.

"That's awful." James said. The idea of mass murder and violence by a group that wanted to overthrow the statute of secrecy was too awful to consider. "That won't happen. They won't let it happen."

"Who, exactly?" Sirius snorted. "The adults? The people in charge? Why should they know a damned thing about what's best to do?" He looked angry, fierce. He was glaring at the radio as if it had disturbed him somehow.

"They'll sort it out." James said. They had to. His parents could sort out anything. They wouldn't let anything bad happen to them.

Sirius snorted. "You can live in fairyland if you want, Potter. But I say we're headed for a war."

"Isn't that a bit extreme?" Remus said, turning to him.

"I don't want it." Sirius said, turning to him. "I'm just being realistic. And when you're aware, you can prepare."

"Who said that?" Remus asked, curious.

"Me. Just now." Sirius said.

James looked at him. His friend was still staring at the radio, a strange look in his eye as though he were just seeing something for the first time.

And James wondered if he could see it too. They were still children. They still behaved like children. They still made snowmen, called Snivellus names and chased each other down the hallways. But in this moment, here together, he knew they were more than that. They were part of something, the four of them, and, if Sirius was right, and war was coming, James knew they would be ready for it. As long as they had each other.