Prologue

It was, Remus thought later, the day the Daily Prophet coined the phrase The Golden Trio in reference to Harry, Ron and Hermione. He was pretty sure. Therefore, it was understandable that he blame Curlious Bradford and Rita Skeeter for the mess he currently found himself in.

Bradford was the editor-in-chief of the Prophet, and so was responsible for anything that went into print; the paper had taken a fair few hits over the last few years, mostly in consequence of attacking the three teenagers in question and he was desperate to get back on top and keep his job. Skeeter, the little snitch, was frantically re-climbing the ladder she had been knocked so soundly off of by the canny Witch of the trio. Together, the two had most certainly been the instigators of the nickname.

It really was fair to blame them. Really. Because it was their fault, Remus was positive. It had been the final straw, and the day IT had happened.

The day they went mad.

No-one knew it at first. Remus hardly recognised it himself; there was just a sense that there was something off when they had spoken after the article had been released. Of course, the werewolf thought to himself, no-one else does know either. Hopefully I can keep it that way.

He didn't want to think of what would happen to the three in the current political climate if the ministry could actually prove they were insane. With Umbridge running roughshod over the school, the Prophet alternatively tearing them down and sucking up to them, Dumbledore being his usual sneaky, secretive self and providing zero support not to mention being cut off from their family most of the year – Hermione and Ron their parents, Harry from Sirius – he shuddered. Was it any wonder they'd finally snapped?

After Hermione had had Rita Skeeter write Harry's point-of-view of Voldemort's return, the article had gone viral. The Prophet couldn't afford not to pick it up, putting Skeeter on permanent staff instead of the free-lance stuff she'd been up to before. No matter what pressure they were getting from the Minister, ultimately the Prophet had to satisfy its customer base, which was the Wizarding public – and what the public wanted was a piece of Harry. They wanted to know who he really was instead of what they'd been fed over the years and even Remus, who had only known the boy just over two years, knew that Harry's identity was intrinsically tied up in his two best friends. It hadn't been hard for Skeeter to realise that as well, and she'd sold Curlious Bradford on the idea of reporting on all three of them – a series of articles going back to their first year, including a complete profile on their individual backgrounds. From the beginning, they'd been named The Golden Trio.

A few weeks later he'd been talking with Sirius when Hedwig had arrived with a message.

Dear Padfoot

I am in need of your expert advice. I'm sure that somewhere in either Hogwarts' or your own extensive library you as a student came across a text with instructions to attach charms to clothing. My friends and I find ourselves in need of this knowledge. If you could point us in the right direction, one generation of Marauders to the next, we would be in your debt.

Sincerely, Skydance

With thanks from Swiftpaw and Brighteye

It had been his first clue that something wasn't quite right. Not that it was particularly out of character for a normal fifteen-year-old wizard; just… it wasn't quite matching up with what Remus had observed of Harry's character. Not to mention the names; and now Remus had to worry if those names came with forms. Sirius, on the other hand, had been rather delighted; not seeing anything wrong with the question and quickly giving his expert Marauder opinion. Of course, Sirius had spent twelve years in Azkaban instead of developing into an adult so Remus really couldn't blame him for not realising that something was up. Still, it wasn't like it was something serious, after all… it was probably just for a joke. Nothing bad, or life-threatening. Maybe Harry and his friends really were just spending some time being kids. It wasn't like they didn't deserve it, really.

He still had a bad feeling.

He hated being right. Especially about bad feelings. The first report they had from Hogwarts, via Minerva, was that someone (no-one had actually found out who, though Severus automatically blamed Harry on principle) had charmed targets onto the back of the robes of the entire of Slytherin house… including their Head. Sirius had almost suffocated he laughed so hard. Not even the Headmaster had been able to detect the culprit through their magical signature and nothing any of the professors did could remove the new addition. Changing clothes didn't help, either. It lasted exactly one week and left most of Slytherin house in the infirmary suffering from a variety of charms and jinxes as the rest of Hogwarts took up the invitation the bullseyes offered.

After some subtle questioning, Remus had managed to find out from Ginny and the Weasley twins that Harry, Ron and Hermione had been taunted with the name The Golden Trio by the entirety of Slytherin House, including their Head, for weeks before the prank… and no-one had stopped it.

He still felt uneasy. Maybe he should pop by to see how they were doing? He was due to bring a report to Hogwarts in the next few days; he could try and catch up with them then. Maybe then he could resolve this deeply unsettled feeling churning in his gut.