The Marauder Chronicles

Greatest of the Hogwarts Four

Godric Gryffindor

Four students will come into Hogwarts' midst

And they will exude your qualities of

Bravery

Chivalry

Loyalty

Strength

They are the next generation of Godric Gryffindor

May the world forever know their story.

Prologue, "Ode to Godric"

01 ~

Most people consider themselves normal. They will do anything in their power to impress upon people how 'normal' they really are, and will not make them see past this superficiality. At Number Twelve Grimmauld Place, however, things were far from normal.

"SIRIUS! SIRIUS!" A voice boomed from the kitchen. "GET OUT OF BED THIS INSTANT! YOU CAN'T SLEEP ALL DAY!"

Someone groaned in answer. This 'someone' had midnight black hair, deep brown eyes, and was rather good-looking, despite his young appearance. The woman doesn't even fathom the statement 'sleep all day.' Bloody hell, it's eight o'clock!

"SIRIUS REGINALD BLACK!" She was back, this time, though, she marched up the stairs and into his room, and yanked away his blankets. "Get up this instant!"

Now, what Sirius Black loved more than anything was annoying his mother to the point of insanity. The eleven-year-old, though at first glance seeming like a comedian, also possessed an incredible depth of intelligence. The boy was much smarter than he appeared to be. And this is why he found his mother's outbursts extremely entertaining.

"Why should I get up, Mum?" Sirius lazily questioned as he lay flat on his stomach, blanket-less. "Unless there's a new law passed by the Ministry to torture your children for no apparent reason whatsoever?"

"That will do, Sirius," his mother scoffed. "Honestly, that mouth of yours is going to get you into trouble someday, and when it does, I won't be at your side defending you, you can count on that!"

"Honestly, Mum, think about what you're saying. Do you receive some sadistic pleasure out of tormenting me? Not a single person that I know wakes up at eight o'clock on their own accord. Think about what you're teaching your son to become!"

"I don't know where your sarcasm comes off from, Sirius, but you better stop now. Now hurry up! Breakfast is on the table, and your father just left."

"All right, all right, I'm coming," Sirius said, and to confirm this statement, he jumped out of his bed and ruffled his hair. "But since it's so early and I'm so tired, I don't see any reason why I won't fall asleep in my porridge."

His response was a sigh, and an "Oh, honestly, Sirius!" as he headed downstairs for breakfast.

Five minutes later, Sirius was in the kitchen, having porridge and pumpkin juice. He glanced longingly out of the window, all thoughts forgotten except one: Hogwarts. I wonder if I'll be accepted- oh, silly Sirius, of course you will, you're a pureblood! But a new thought occurred to Sirius that drove all of the other ones out of his brain: What if I'm a Squib?

Sirius highly doubted that, though. He had been showing signs of magic since infancy. He was almost certain that he would be attending Hogwarts this year. But one thing kept nagging at the back of Sirius' brain: Slytherin. For ages, his whole family had been Slytherins, who believed in there being a rift between Muggle-borns and purebloods, and who followed the works of many dark wizards. For some reason, however, Sirius felt that he would not be a Slytherin; although he had the common markings of a Slytherin: ambition, resourcefulness, and cunning. He just believed that a different path was chosen for him somehow.

As Sirius was contemplating these thoughts, he didn't notice a large snowy owl fly toward the kitchen window, a letter clutched in his beak. His shiny talon rapped sharply on the glass pane. Tap. Tap. Tap.

But Sirius didn't seem to hear, he was lost in his own thoughts. Tap. Tap. Tap. But what if I am destined to be a Slytherin? Maybe this feeling is wrong. Ugh, how frustrating...

At that moment, Sirius' mother, Callista, entered the room. She noticed the owl tapping furiously against the window, and she noticed Sirius staring obliviously at the wall. "SIRIUS! SIRIUS! WOULD YOU GET YOUR HEAD OUT OF THE CLOUDS AND PAY ATTENTION?!"

"Wha-what?" Sirius jerked out of his reverie, slightly dazed. It was then that he noticed the owl. "It-it's an owl!" he half-whispered.

"Very good, Sirius, you know what an owl is." He detected a hint of sarcasm in his mother's voice. "NOW OPEN THE WRETCHED WINDOW!"

"Okay, okay..." Sirius said, and he threw open the window. The owl clucked its beak in admonishment, and then flew off, ruffling its feathers.

With trembling hands, Sirius held the parchment envelope in his hands. He turned it over, and there was the Hogwarts purple wax seal. He slit open the envelope and allowed it to drop to the floor. He ignored the scolding of his mother as he unfolded the first sheaf of parchment and read the words in green ink that would seal his fate:

Dear Mr. Black,

We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment. Term begins on September 1. We await your owl by no later than July 31.

Sincerely,

Professor M. McGonagall

Deputy Headmistress

"Well?" Callista Black demanded. "What did it say?"

Sirius looked at his mother, shaking, but he managed to say, "I'm in."

"Good, Sirius. I am proud of you," Callista said stiffly. "I must tell Luella right now so you can go with Narcissa and Bellatrix to Diagon Alley to get your school things." And with that, his mother bustled out of the kitchen.

Sirius waited until his mother was out of earshot before he let out a suppressed groan. Great. Narcissa Maura Black. One of the snootiest and most uptight person Sirius knew, and had the great misfortune of being related to. But he didn't despise her as much as Bellatrix, her twin sister. Bellatrix Kaldea Black had eyes as cold as ice, a heart wrought with iron, and a sharp wit and tongue.

Sirius also noticed how much his mother favored his other cousins over the only cousin in his family that was actually sane, Andromeda Jeanette Black. Unlike the cruel and cold Narcissa and Bellatrix, Andromeda was kind-hearted, and, like Sirius, she hoped that Slytherin was not the House for her. They were all starting at Hogwarts this year, and Sirius could have bet one hundred Galleons that Narcissa and Bellatrix would end up in Slytherin. Sirius just hoped that he wouldn't have to join them.

There was one good thing about going to Hogwarts, even if he did end up in Slytherin-getting away from Regulus. Regulus Xavier Black was favored by his mother on a much higher scale than Sirius, who was considered to be the childish, rebellious one. Although Sirius was older, he was secretly happy that he would soon be rid of Regulus's hurtful taunts of how he wasn't a real Black, but he was the 'black' sheep of the family. Every time Sirius tried to not let his younger and more immature brother get to him, the harder it became, and he knew that all of the things Regulus said were true.

"JAMES MATTHEW POTTER! GET DOWN RIGHT NOW!"

Eleven-year-old James Potter stuck his tongue out as he retorted, "Make me."

Miriam Potter sighed, exasperated. "James, don't talk back that way. Just get off of the toy broomstick now," she said dangerously.

James immediately obeyed. When his mother used that tone of voice, she meant business. Unfortunately, James had once tested that tone, and it had resulted in a very nasty transformation of him into a flobberworm, but that's a different story.

The Potter house was, again, far from normal. It exploded with the unexpected, and chaos always ensued. In fact, there was never a dull moment, which was also caused by the fact that James had six brothers and sisters, James being the youngest.

But, there was something about James Potter that people seemed to like. Maybe it was his carefree attitude, his good looks, or his charming personality. Or, maybe it was just the fact that he would almost certainly be a Quidditch player. Whatever it was, once the 'James Potter charm,' as it was called, was in effect, people could not hate little James Potter.

But every person has a down side. At times, James could be exceedingly arrogant, and a tad big-headed, and he had a certain disregard for the rules. That is why we return to this sunny July morning, where James was wreaking havoc by flying the toy broomstick in the sitting room, breaking glass and other things as he flew in unlimited energy.

"Reparo!" Miriam said, and with a wave of her wand, everything was normal. "Accio!" she said, and, to James' disappointment, the toy broomstick flew right into his mother's hand.
"James, when will you ever learn not to break the rules?" And with a drawn-out sigh, his mother left the room, calling over her shoulder, "Oh, yes, and there is a surprise for you in the kitchen."

"Oh, really? What is it? What is it? Is it...my Hogwarts letter?" James followed his mother out of the sitting room, his hazel eyes sparkling. He loved surprises.

"Just come into the kitchen and see," his mother answered.

James entered the kitchen and was greeted warmly by his father, Michael, and his six brothers and sisters. They were all a year apart, and each was in Hogwarts except James. Down the line was Daniel, David, Carissa, Richard, Selena, Elisa, and then James.

"James, look on the table," his father said. "I think you will like what you see."

"Definitely," Selena agreed.

"Go on, have a look," said Daniel.

And for the first time, James saw his dream right in front of him. A small tawny owl lay on the table, its incredible yellow eyes fixated on James. Clamped in its silver beak was a letter, addressed in green ink to James:

Mr. James Potter

The Most Comfortable Bedroom

416 Friers Drive

Millers Grove

London

In disbelief, James reached for the letter, and managed to grasp it. In response, the owl flew out of the open bay window into the sunlight.

"Come on, James, hurry it up, we want to see what it says," said Carissa impatiently.

"Read it aloud," his father advised.

And with bated breath, James tore open the letter and unfurled the first sheet of parchment. As he read the letter aloud, he absorbed the green ink letters, forever impacted in his brain:

Dear Mr. Potter,

We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment. Term begins on September 1. We await your owl by no later than July 31.

Sincerely,

Professor M. McGonagall

Deputy Headmistress

"Oh, honey, congratulations!" Miriam Potter was on James in an instant, hugging him and squeezing him so tight, all scorn for his last adventure forgotten. His father patted him on the back, and each of his siblings hugged him and messed up James' already untidy hair. James looked back at the letter, and he couldn't speak. He couldn't think. All he could do was look up at his family in amazement, and grin.

Remus Lupin was different from any other child that was his age. He was different because of a small accident that had occurred five years ago, when Remus was traveling in Transylvania on a business trip with his father. An accident that would forever change the course of his life.

Remus Lupin was a werewolf. Because he was a werewolf, he was not sure if he would be accepted into Hogwarts, partially because of his situation, but also partially because he was a half-blood. At the age of six, Remus received a small bite from a werewolf, which gave him a terrible curse; a curse that he would have to put up with once a month. Every month, on the night of the full moon, Remus would transform, and become a monster. He would barely be able to control his actions, his emotions. His mind was not in a right state; he was almost certain to attack someone or something without meaning to- all because of his werewolf instincts. Remus hated this side of himself. He was almost always a quiet, thoughtful boy who could be insensible at times. Yet, most of the time he was a kind and gentle boy.

His mother, Lauren, had already convinced Remus in the gentlest way possible that because of his 'condition,' he may not be accepted into Hogwarts. Albus Dumbledore had just been appointed the Headmaster after Armando Dippet's death, and he seemed to be a reasonable man. But Lauren just wasn't sure if Remus would be allowed to attend school next term.

This often caused conflicts with Remus' parents. Lauren and his father Jonathan often got into arguments about his situation. Jonathan would argue that if Remus was accepted, he should be allowed to go and really learn. Lauren, however, would protest that it was not right. She argued that Remus would almost certainly not be accepted into Hogwarts, and she didn't really approve of him going. These rows lasted well into the night at times, and Remus was so sick of hearing his parents fight. All he wished for was to be like any other kid. He would give anything he had to just rid himself of this burden.

On the twenty-fourth of July, Remus was awoken by yet another row. Things were getting out of hand. Remus' parents fought constantly, almost every day, as September first drew nearer and nearer. Remus was worried that perhaps his Mum was right- maybe Hogwarts didn't want him after all.

He couldn't take their fighting. He sighed exhaustedly, threw his covers off of him, and padded downstairs and into the kitchen. As he approached, he could hear snippets of the fight.

"But, darling, Remus doesn't belong. He's very special-''

"Come off it, Lauren, he just wants to be a normal kid. He wants to go. And if he gets his letter, I don't see why we shouldn't send him. I'm sure Dumbledore will understand-''

But Jonathan Lupin was cut off by Remus' sudden arrival. He stumbled, and almost knocked his coffee over. "G-good morning, son," he said quickly. His cheeks were tinted red.

"Good morning, dear," said Lauren, not in the least surprised by Remus' appearance. "How are you feeling today?"

"I'm fine, Mum...honestly," Remus mumbled, catching the reprimanding look on his mother's face. "REALLY," he emphasized, then he collapsed into his chair to have a bit of toast.

"Oh, all right, then, Remus, honey. Romulus isn't up yet, but don't eat all of the toast. I don't feel like making another batch!" She smiled, but it didn't reach her eyes. Remus felt a wave of guilt wash over him. He knew that his mother was worried about his safety and she was only doing what she thought was best for him. How could he be so uncompassionate?

But Remus thought of Romulus, his brother, and his twin. Romulus and Remus were totally different on the inside. Romulus was more outgoing and more fun loving than Remus was. But they got along most of the time, and Remus knew he could count on him for anything. The only problem that Remus felt was that, whenever he looked at his brother, he felt an envy that was unlike him flood through him. Romulus would most definitely be accepted into Hogwarts. He didn't have to put up with changing into a beast once a month. He didn't have to put up with all of the suffering. He would be the one who went to Hogwarts and had a great time, while Remus would be stuck home, alone. Remus tried to shake these thoughts out of his head. No. He shouldn't act like this. He should be happy for Romulus, his brother. He deserved to go. Unlike himself...

At that very moment, a handsome barn owl swooped through the sky, heading toward the Lupin house, and from what Remus could see, one letter was clutched in his beak. Great, Remus thought bitterly. There goes my one and only chance.

The owl squawked and dropped the letter onto the table. Then it flew out of the window, and into the sky. Remus grabbed the letter, and turned it over with shaking hands. He read the address on the letter. It was addressed to him. Remus.

Remus cut open the letter and fingered the parchment. The green words gleamed at him:

Dear Mr. Lupin,

We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment. Term begins on September 1. We await your owl by no later than July 31.

Sincerely,

Professor M. McGonagall

Deputy Headmistress

P.S. Dumbledore has arranged to speak with your father on the thirtieth of July.

Remus couldn't believe his eyes. His parents asked him excitedly, "Well, what does it say?"

"I've been accepted," Remus said slowly, looking from his mother to his father and then back again. "It also says that Dumbledore wants to speak with Dad on the thirtieth of July."

"Congratulations, sweetie!" His mother exclaimed.

"All right, then," his father said briskly. "Good work, son." But then he stopped as a sudden thought dawned on him. "But what about Romulus? Why didn't he get a letter?"

Remus stopped, and stared at his letter. He even checked the address again to make sure it was addressed to him, not to Romulus. His stomach dropped. Romulus hadn't...been accepted. He was...not coming to Hogwarts...

Remus looked at his father, tears forming in his eyes. He turned away. Why had he been given the chance, a werewolf, a beast? Why hadn't Romulus...? It didn't seem fair.

Nobody noticed Romulus, who had just entered the kitchen, eavesdropping outside of the door. He stood quietly in the threshold of the kitchen, a look of resentment on his face, his eyes ablaze.

Peter Pettigrew was, despite the previous three children, normal. The reason for this was mainly the fact that Peter was a Muggle, someone who was not a wizard. He lived a very ordered life. In fact, Peter Pettigrew was as normal as you could be. He wasn't a werewolf, or rebellious, or charming. He was just Peter. And that was how he felt he would live the rest of his life.

As horrible as it may seem, many people had called Peter talent-less. Peter himself was not ashamed to admit it, at times his own mother and father had even called him that. It was true, too- Peter was not at the top of his class at primary school and not rather intellectual, for that matter, he was dull, dowdy, and downright boring. He was also rather clumsy. All of these were Peter Charles Pettigrew's traits, he could not help who he had become.

On this particular July morning, it was a flawless day. Birds were chirping, and the sun was shining brightly. As Peter sat down for breakfast, he sighed. It was the perfect summer day. Since his parents barely had time for him, Peter had lived a very lonely life. His mother, Vivian, was a social butterfly who loved conversing and gossiping with the other wealthy ladies in the neighborhood. Peter's father, Charles, was a very wealthy businessman who worked for one of the largest law firms in England.

To many, his life seemed restricted, but it was the exact opposite. Peter was totally independent, which you suppose could be his only talent. On this morning, Peter was extremely discontented. He hated the life he lived. He would give anything to make his life more interesting and exciting.

There were times when Peter had dreams of another world, an awe-inspiring world, full of fantasy and magic and witches and the like. But if he ever told anyone, they would just laugh at him. They didn't believe imagination was a very good moral character for a young and wealthy boy. They believed he should be more concerned with social events and the like. But Peter refused. He had promised himself long ago that he if he ever had children, they would never have to live the despicable life he had experienced.

As Peter's mind drifted yet again to his dream world, he didn't notice a very unusual sight: there was a large brown owl seated outside of the gleaming kitchen window, tapping incessantly on the glass with a long talon. A parchment letter bearing a purple wax seal was held tightly in his beak.

It took a few minutes for Peter to come back to his senses. That was when he noticed the owl. He stared at it in complete disbelief. An owl? In broad daylight? Peter, you must be going mad, you're just seeing things, he thought confusedly. After all, Peter had never even seen an owl at nighttime, let alone in the daytime. It just didn't make any sense.

It's going to wake everyone up. I'll just open the window...Peter actually thought this was a dumb idea. What if the owl attacked him? Maybe this wasn't such a good idea...but I've got to try, he told himself. Hesitantly, he opened the window.

It wasn't as bad as he had expected. The owl didn't screech or hoot or make a sound. In fact, it barely moved at all. All it did was drop the letter on the spotless kitchen linoleum and fly back out the window again.

Peter shut the window in a flash. Then he turned to the letter, lying helplessly on the floor. What was going on? Something was fishy. Nonetheless, Peter picked up the letter and turned it over. What he saw caused him to gasp loudly: his address was written, plain as ever, on what seemed to be a parchment envelope:

Mr. Peter Pettigrew

The Wealthiest House

784 Carson Place

Ferlina County

Surrey

In complete and utter shock, Peter turned the letter over again. There was a purple wax seal, and imprinted on it was the strangest coat of arms that Peter had ever seen in his life. There were four animals: a raven, a badger, a serpent, and a lion, all surrounded by the letter "H", and a phrase: "Draco Dormiens Nunquam Titillandus."

Now, Peter had studied Latin since he was very young, and although he was the first to confess that he was not very good at it, he was able to make out the four-letter phrase: "Never tickle a sleeping dragon." But what good did that serve him?

Peter raised his finger, and after a moment's resistance, he carefully opened the envelope. Two pieces of parchment fell out of the envelope. Peter picked up what he supposed was the first one, and read:

Dear Mr. Pettigrew,

We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment. Term begins on September 1. We await your owl by no later than July 31.

Sincerely,

Professor M. McGonagall

Deputy Headmistress

P.S. Please reach the transportation to Hogwarts on September first by going to Platform Nine and Three Quarters at King's Cross Station, London.

What was this? Some kind of prank? Perhaps- Peter hardly dared to believe it- perhaps it was a joke that his parents had sent him, to crush his dream of another world? But no...his parents really didn't have senses of humor, and for another thing, they didn't even know Peter's secret desire. Could this be real? Could another world actually exist out there? Is my fantasy world, thought up only in my mind, a reality?