...and in the beginning, there were the marauders

Chapter One: The Beginning

It had been sunny that morning, that morning when she received the letter. But when she finished reading the emerald script, when she looked up from the yellowed parchment, a single cloud had blocked out the sun...

That day, the sky was cloudy and the world was gray. It was one of those days where you thought it might rain, but it never did. That was the day the letter came.

He had been sort of expecting it; Mippy had told him that he would probably start next term. He had been mildly doubtful that they would want him, but the letter he now held in his hands proved that they did.

"Jamesy dear, where is the mail?" a shrill voice called from the kitchen. Mippy.

James had been in a trance, staring at the letter made of yellowed parchment bearing a return address of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. The letter addressed to Mr. J. Potter, 7 Cotton Road, Streets-of-Seven, Britain. His guardian's call snapped him out of it. He turned and walked down the hall and into the kitchen.

Mippy was sitting at the small table reading The Daily Prophet. James threw the mail down onto the table, keeping his Hogwarts letter. He picked a plate of bacon off the counter before sitting down across from Mippy.

"What is that you've got there, dear?" she asked.

"It's from Hogwarts," James replied, his eyes still on the insignia borne by the letter.

"What?"

"Hogwarts."

"Come again?"

"HOGWARTS!" Mippy was not usually hard of hearing, but had a spell now and again of partial deafness.

"Oh, how grand Jamesy!" she cooed. "Of course, you were expecting it."

"No, I wasn't."

"Oh, of course you were, Jamesy. You're of age now. You knew that you would be going of to school soon."

"I didn't know if they would want me," said James.

"Oh, hush," scoffed Mippy. "Your a Pureblood, and you've a got that spark in you. I knew from the moment I saw you that you'd grow to be a grand wizard." James decided it wise to drop the subject and opened his letter.

"Dear Mr. Potter..." - No one had ever referred to James as 'Mister'; it took him a moment to remember that this was his letter - "We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed..."

James beamed. He had always been assured that one day Hogwarts would take him as a student, but had never really believed it. But now he had proof. He would be going to the finest school in the world. He had grown up listening to Mippy and her friends talk about Hogwarts. He had been told that both his parents had gone there. And now, so would he.

Eleven-year-old James could not remember his parents well. He had a few fleeting memories of his mother, who had died when he was three, but his father was a mystery to him. Mippy refused to tell him anything about his past. James didn't even know the man's name; he had been given his unmarried mother's surname.

James had come to live with Mippy shortly after his mother's death. She had been an old friend of his mother's, a quirky woman, even by wizard standards. Her colorful clothes rarely matched (Today she was wearing a pastel sundress, brown work boots and a brown man's cardigan). Her blond hair had gone almost white in her old age and her gray eyes were surrounded by wrinkles.

James could not understand how his mother, who wouldn't even have been thirty were she still alive, could come to be friends with such an odd older woman. Mippy said they just came together. She couldn't even remember how they met.

"We'll have to go off to Diagon Alley soon," she said, turning the page in her paper. "Be needing to get your school things before the term starts. Suppose we should go next week. Get it over with." James looked down at the other pieces of paper in his hands. Three sets of work robes...wand...cauldron... And he also had a long list of books to purchase.

"They still using that Goshawk spell book?" Mippy asked.

James looked down at his list. "Yes, they are."

Mippy grunted. "Used that when I was there. You'd think they'd find something else te use."

James pushed his round glasses up the bridge of his nose. He was practically blind without his glasses. Mippy said his poor eyesight was a blessing- his glasses were very flattering.

James could not think of many things about himself that were flattering. He was a lanky boy, always too thin and too tall. His dark hair had a tendency to do whatever it pleased and, for the most part, pleased to stick up in all directions. He found his brown eyes to be boring, Mippy said they were charming.

"I'll send an owl off to the school today. Tell them you're coming," Mippy said, rising from the table. "Right now, I've got to work in the garden. Probably go up to the town later."

Mippy and James lived a town know as Streets-of-Seven, named so because, well, it had seven streets. For the most part it was a Muggle, or non-magical, town. However, for such a small town, it had a large wizarding community.

If you were looking, you could tell the houses of witches and wizards from those of Muggles. Although almost all the small houses in the village had the same floor plan, but the magical families had filled in most of their windows, or had them covered with thick draperies. This was to keep Muggles from seeing them from seeing them perform magic.

Of course, most of the witches and wizards who lived here were older and had no children James' age. There was a young couple who lived down the lane with their son, but he was a toddler and did not interest James much. So he had grown up with Mippy as his only friend. Old Mrs. Pettigrew had a grandson who came to stay with her for a week every summer who was Harry's age, but for the most part, James only played with him out of boredom and pity. Peter Pettigrew was a weasely, whiny little boy. But he and James got along, and James wasn't in any position to be picky about his friends.

He gave a final look to the letter, and ran upstairs to pack a bag for London.

* * *

"Well, I suppose we should be gettin' te Gringotts first," Mippy said, leading James through the throngs off people. "Can't do anything without your money."

Two weeks had passed, and Mippy had finally brought James too Diagon Alley to buy his school things. He had been nagging her incessantly about it, and every time he had asked, she had made him wait another day.

Gringotts Bank was a large marble building that was the centerpiece of the main stretch of Diagon Alley. Reputed as the safest bank it the world, it was where all witches and wizards did their banking. James and Mippy entered through the large front door and walked up to one of the goblins sitting at a long counter that ran the length of the marble hallway.

"Withdrawl," Mippy said, handing the goblin behind the table a key. "Vault number two-hundred thirty-one."

The tiny goblin examined the key under his large magnifying glass and ruffled through some papers. "This seems to be in order," he said, handing back the key. "Go down the hall. Someone will take you down to the vaults."

The underground vaults of Gringotts were connected by an intricate series of carts. Only the goblins knew how to control them and avoid the traps set up to catch anyone stupid enough to try and rob the bank. As their cart picked up speed, James decided that anyone who actually tried their luck with the carts were the stupid ones.

"Vault number two-hundred and thirty-one," the goblin announced as the cart came to a halt.

Mippy and James climbed out of the cart. James had never actually seen the inside of a Gringotts vault; he decided it would be a learning experience.

But when Mippy unlocked the vault and swung open the heavy door, he went into shock. He hadn't anticipated this much money being stored here. Piles of gold, silver, and bronze shined back at him in the dim light.

"Mippy," he whispered as his guardian shoved a few handfulls of coins into a small moneybag, "is this your vault?"

"No," she replied walking back to the cart, "it's yours. My money's all over in vault one hundred twelve."

"But how in heaven's name did I get all that money?" James asked, staring down at her.

"Some of it your mum left to ya. Most of it came from your dad; he's sent me money ever since I got ya. Now get in the cart, we've places to go."

"My dad? Wait-"

Mippy didn't seem interested in what he had to say; she pulled James into the cart and ordered the goblin to go.

Slightly dazed from the cart, James continued to pester her about the vault as they walked out into the bustle of the street. "So my father is alive? And he knows about me? Why hasn't he come to se me-"

Mippy stopped walking, right in the middle of the sidewalk. She turned him towards her and gave him a very stern look.

"Now you listen to me, James," she said sternly. "Your mum didn't want him to mess with ye, so neither do I. It'll save you a lot of trouble, trust me on that. Now we are dropping this topic and you will not bring up again. You hear?"

A shocked James gave a slow nod. Mippy was not prone to outburst like that. He couldn't understand why his father would upset her so much...

James and Mippy spent the next few hours walking around the Alley, buying books and a cauldron, hats and gloves. They had just come from the apothecary, and before that, they had purchased a collapsible telescope and set of scales.

Then they reached Ollivander's, the world-famous wand shop. It was a small, dark building, with chipping red paint and windows that needed a good washing. James suddenly felt himself grow nervous.

"This is the most important thing, James," Mippy said, becoming serious again. "Yer wand. You should do this alone. I shouldn't be interfearin'. I'll meet you back at the Leaky Cauldron." She handed him his money bag and walked off, becoming lost in the crowd.

James entered the shop, slowly and with apprehension. There appeared to be no one in the small, dusty shop. The walls were lined with small boxes, put in stacks that reached the ceiling. Two more rows ran the back half of the shop, and a small desk made of cherry wood stood in front of them.

An old man emerged from somewhere in back of the shop. He was small and pale, with wide, pale eyes. "How may I be of service, young man?" he asked in a soft voice.

"I...um...My name is James Potter...I...I...I'm looking for a wand." Why was he so nervous?

The man chuckled. "You don't look for the wand, my boy. It finds you."

He went down one of the rows and pulled out one of the boxes. He walked back to James and lifted a wand out of the box. "Mahogany. Eleven inches. Pliable. I'd say it's good for transfiguration."

James took the wand from him. Almost instantly, he felt something run through him. He couldn't tell where his hand ended and where the wand began. Red and gold sparks flew from the end as he raised it above his head. The man smiled. "I think we have a match," he said. "We got lucky on the first try. We usually have to try a couple wands before we find the right one."

James discovered that wands did not come cheap. After giving the man a substantial amount of money, he left the shop. He began to make his way to the Leaky Cauldron, weaving through the mass of people. He came to the tavern from the small alley behind it, so as to avoid the throngs of people who usually gathered at the Leaky Cauldron's entrance. But as he glanced into the back window, he stopped dead in his tracks.

Mippy was standing up, one hand on her hip and the other pointing a finger at someone sitting in front of her, a man with dark hair. James could only assume it was a man, for his back was to James. Mippy looked infuriated. She was talking quickly, but James could not read her lips from so far away.

Suddenly, the man stood up. He was tall; James could no longer see Mippy. Then she emerged from behind him and stormed out of the tavern. James ran to the front of the tavern, fighting through the crowd. He had almost reached the front of the building when an arm reached out and grabbed him.

"Where are you going in such a hurry?" Mippy asked him.

"To find you!" James exclaimed. "Who was that man? Are you alright?"

"What man?"

"The man in the Leaky Cauldron! I saw you arguing with him."

"Don't you worry about that." Mippy began to lead him down the street. "Come along now, we still have te get yer robes fitted."

"But Mippy-"

For the second time that day, Mippy took him by both arms and turned him to her. She looked him straight in the eye and said, "James Matthew Potter, you'd best drop something when I tell you to drop it. What happened back there is nothing you need to concern yourself with. Do you understand me?"

James nodded.

They walked to the robe shop in silence. Poor Mippy looked utterly frazzled. But she became her normal, outgoing self as soon as the entered the store.

"'Ello, Mirtha!" she called to the clerk behind the counter. "It's time for my Jamesey to get his robes for Hogwarts."

"He go on into the back. We've another boy back there for Hogwarts. Why don't you stay up her with me? Would you like some tea?" responded the stout, middle-aged woman behind the counter.

"Oh, that would be lovely! You heard her, go on back Jamesey."

James walked through the velvet curtains that hung in the corner of the room. He entered a small room with a few stools and mirrors. A boy James' age was standing on one of the stools, and a woman was kneeling on the ground, examining the hem of the robe he was wearing. She looked up and saw James. "Wait here a moment dear, I'll go get you something to try on."

The other boy looked down at him and gave a weak smile. He looked sick: his eyelids were drooping and his skin was washed out. James estimated him to be a few inches shorter than himself, which wasn't unusual, since James was always tall for his age. The boy had sand-colored hair kept in a neat style and brown eyes that reminded James of chocolate.

"Hullo," James said. "I'm James Potter."

"Remus Lupin. Pleased to meet you," replied the boy, who then coughed. He continued to do so for a moment, before gasping for breath.

"Are you alright?" James asked, stepping forward.

"Fine," Remus replied, holding out his hand. "Really."

"Your parents shouldn't have made you come now if you're sick!"

"Um...We're going out of town in a few days. This was our last chance."

The seamstress returned and handed James a robe. "Put that on over your clothes," she instructed. She turned to Remus. "As for you, I think that size will work. You don't need any alterations. Go on, take it off and I'll go wrap it up. I imagine you'll be needin' three sets?"

Remus nodded, as he pulled the robes over his head.

"Well, then, go on out to the front with your mum. I'll send them out."

"Good-bye, James. I'll see you next month," Remus said, steeping down from stool.

"Bye, Remus," James said, as the other boy walked out the door.

"I'll be back with you in a minute," said the seamstress.