The Years of Prongs

Prologue

    Harry sat in the kitchen of number twelve, Grimmauld Place, alone, the only light cast by a candle in the middle of the table that had melted down to almost nothing. He stared long and hard at the cover of the album, unsure of whether he wanted to open it or just leave it closed, never to be opened again, because opening it would mean seeing his parents, and Sirius. Just images of them, not the real things.     With a deep breath, and a trembling hand, Harry flipped open the leather cover. The very first photograph was James with his arm around Lily. They looked so young, and happy, probably seventh year at oldest. He remembered how Remus and Sirius had said his parents had started going out in their seventh year.

    "I wish I knew what you were like," Harry whispered sadly, turning the page.

    "I can tell you a bit."

    Harry looked up and hastily wiped his eyes. Remus was standing behind him, looking at the book over Harry's shoulder.

    "I miss them," Harry said quietly.

    "I know you do," Remus nodded, sitting down beside Harry. "I do, too." His eyes turned back to the book, and Harry turned the page. It was his mother sitting in the Gryffindor common room with two other girls he had never payed much attention to.

    "Who are they?" Harry asked.

    "Lily's closest friends in school," Remus explained. "Makenzie and Abby."

    "Are they still alive?" Harry asked. He knew it was an odd question to ask, but still, it seemed a good one all the same.

    "I imagine Makenzie is," Remus nodded. "But Abby's not. She was killed by Death Eaters a few months before Lily and James died. Makenzie's hasn't been in touch with anyone since that night." Remus sighed and shook his head. "James was a great person. Just like you. He may have been a bit of a idiot at times, but he had a big heart. He would have been proud of you."

    He stood up and squeezed Harry's shoulder before leaving the room. Harry closed the album, and rested his head on his arms. The last thing he thought before falling into a deep sleep was that he wished he knew his father so that he could find out about his obsession of Lily, the Marauders, and most of all, what he was really like.

Chapter One:

Meetings In Diagon Alley

    "GET YOUR FACE OFF THAT WINDOW! Honestly, I can't take you anywhere — you're such an embarrassment. . . ."

    I nearly tripped over a rubbish bin as my grouchy aunt dragged me away from Quality Quidditch Supplies, whose front window was now smudged from my face being pressed against it.

    Oh, by the way, the name's James. Or James Henry Potter, if I'm in trouble with my mum — but for the record, that never happens. Some may say I'm good-looking, with my cool, hazel eyes, glasses — unfortunately, but it's not my fault I'm blind, blame my dad — and messy black hair. I'm tall for eleven, but not as tall as my best friend, Sirius Black. And I'm also a huge Quidditch fan.

    Which would explain why my face was pressed against the glass, drooling. You see, they had just come out with a brand-new racing broom, the Nimbus One Thousand. I was gaping at it, along with a dozen other kids, and apparently, Aunt Emily wasn't too proud to have her only nephew slobbering on windows, because she grabbed hold of my arm and pulled me away.

    "But Aunt Emily, I've got to have it!" I moaned, my eyes still focused on the gleaming broomstick as it grew farther and farther away. "The Nimbus One Thousand — International broomstick —"

    However, this was all a waste of breath, because Aunt Emily wasn't listening to a word I was saying. She had just forced me into Flourish and Blotts, her long, bony fingers still digging into my skin.

    "James, we are here to get your school supplies," she said in a low voice, as if I didn't know why we were in the bookshop, "not nonsensical broomsticks."

    Boy, was that like a slap in the face, let me tell you.

    "Nonsensical broomsticks?" I echoed with outrage, shaking off her death-grip. Anyone who thought broomsticks were nonsensical would not be touching me, thank you very much. "The Nimbus is not a nonsensical broomstick!" Whatever that means.

    "James, stop your complaining, you're giving me a headache," Aunt Emily sighed, her voice filled with great annoyance. "Just hurry and get your books."

    "Yeah, yeah," I muttered, stomping away. How my mother could be sisters with that woman, and actually tell people, was a mystery to me. I went to the back of the shop, where I found a squat, red-faced man — it was amazing how much he looked like a Quaffle! — talking to a small red-headed girl. "Excuse me!"

    The man and girl turned to face me, and the girl narrowed her eyes, looking at me like I'm rude or something.

    "Are you for Hogwarts?" the man asked impatiently, sounding as if I had just interrupted something very important.

    "Yep," I nodded. Obviously I was going to Hogwarts. Why would I be going in a bookstore in Diagon Alley if I wasn't going to Hogwarts? Honestly, people these days have no common sense.

    "Alright," the man said. "Wait here." And he waddled off.

    I looked over at the girl, startled to see her looking me over. Actually, I wasn't that surprised. I mean, I am rather good-looking, aren't I?

    "Are you a first year?" she asked after a few seconds of akward silence, during which I had gotten a good look at her. She had shoulder-length dark red hair, and huge emerald eyes. She was shorter than me, but not by a whole lot. Maybe two inches or so. But my mum said that girls grow faster than boys, and in a few years I'd tower over all the girls.

    "Yep," I nodded, holding out my hand. "The name's James Potter. What's yours?"

    I always surprise people at how open I am, and how quick I am to introduce myself. This girl here seemed surprised, because she hesitantly shook my hand.

    "Lily Evans," she said, and quickly withdrew her hand before brushing a strand of hair out of her eyes. "Are you nervous for the start of school?"

    "Nope," I shook my head, which was true. I never got nervous for anything. In fact, I had never been nervous in my life. Not even when I was ring bearer in Aunt Emily's wedding. Mind you, she and Uncle Martin split up two months later, to no one's surprise. You've had a glimpse of what Aunt Emily's like, would you want to be married to her? I didn't think so. But I could tell, without even asking, that this Lily Evans was terrified for the start of school. So I said something that I thought would cheer anyone up. "There's nothing to be nervous about." Mind you, I then continued talking. "Too bad they don't let first years play Quidditch though. . . ."

    "Quidditch, that's a game, right?" asked Lily uncertainly.

    "A sport," I corrected, shocked that anyone would consider Quidditch a game. And then it hit me. "You're a Muggleborn!"

    "A what?" Lily wondered, slightly taken aback.

    "Hey, calm down!" I said quickly, my suspicion confirmed. "There's no reason to be offended. A Muggleborn is —"

    But at that moment I was interrupted by the man who looked like a Quaffle, his arms filled with books.

    "Here you are," he said, handing Lily and I each a set of textbooks. "Come with me and I'll ring you up."

    "So, what's a-a Muggleborn?" Lily asked me as we followed Quaffleman to the counter.

    "Well, a Muggle is someone with no magic in 'em," I explained simply. "So a Muggleborn is someone with nonmagical parents."

    "Oh," Lily nodded slowly. "I'm assuming you're a pureblood?"

    "Yeah," I nodded proudly, setting my books on the counter so I could dig in my pockets for the right amount of Galleons.

    Lily and I payed for our books and headed, with great difficulty as a large group of rather obnoxious students had just entered, towards the front of the store.

    "Well, it's about time!" Aunt Emily snapped. "Come along, James."

    "See ya, Evans!" I called back to Lily as my aunt ushered me out onto the sunlit cobblestone street.

    "Who was that girl?" Aunt Emily asked as we made our way over to Madam Malkin's who, unfortunately, was friends with my aunt.

    "Oh, just another first year," I shrugged. "Seemed a bit too shy for my liking, though."

    "Hello, Emily!" Madam Malkin said brightly the moment we stepped foot in the robe shop.

    "Good morning, Mildreth," Aunt Emily smiled; it was the first time I had seen her smile all day. "I'm just taking my nephew to get his things for school. You remember James?"

    "Of course," Madam Malkin smiled, pinching my cheeks with two large fingers. I groaned inwardly. Luckily, I rarely had to deal with this woman. The last time I had seen her was when I was six, and had to get robes for Aunt Emily's wedding. "My how he's grown! He's such a tall thing. Where are his parents?"

    "His father's at work, and his mother is a bit under the weather, I'm afraid." Typical; my aunt never referred to my parents by their names.

    "Well, that's a shame," Madam Malkin clicked her tongue. "Emily, you can wait here while I get James's robes. Come along, James. There's another boy being fitted right now, so you'll have someone to talk to."

    I reluctantly followed the seamstress — who strangely resembled a burnt marshmallow in robes that were so dark brown they were almost black — through the doors, and grinned. The other boy just happened to be my best friend, Sirius.

    "James!" Sirius yelled, startling the young witch who had been pinning the hems of his robes.

    "Hey, Si," I said, climbing up onto the stool. "How've you been?"

    "Great, at least I was until I had to go back to my house last week," Sirius shrugged. "Where's Mums? I saw you come in with Aunt Em."

    "Mum's got a bad case of the flu," I explained, my glasses knocked askew as Madam Malkin slipped a pair of robes over my head. "Been puking all over everything."

    "Ah, wish I could see it," Sirius said, smiling.

    "Yeah, it's excellent," I nodded. "Of course, Milly doesn't seem to think so, as she has to clean it up." I winced as Malkin jabbed me in the leg with a pin. And to be honest, I don't think it was accidental. "So, come up with anymore pranks for our first year?"

    "Indeed I have," Sirius nodded, a mischievous gleam in his eye. See, even if you couldn't tell he was thinking of mischief by the tone of his voice, or the look on his face, just look at his eyes. They get this shine to them only when planning pranks. "But I'll explain later," he added hastily as Malkin gave him a look of disapproval. Believe me, I was so tempted to kick her.

    The young witch took the robes off Sirius and he jumped off the stool as the witch went into the back room. As Malkin pulled off my robes, the witch returned, handing two boxes to Sirius.

    "Oh, I got new neighbors," I suddenly remembered as Malkin bustled off into the back room.

    "Really?" Sirius said with interest. "Muggles?"

    "No clue." I shrugged. "They just moved in yesterday. Not as rich as us, that's for sure."

    "But remember what Mums always said," Sirius warned.

    "'It's not about the amount of gold in their pocket, but the amount of good in their heart,'" I recited, rolling my eyes.

    "And don't you forget it," Sirius winked. "But how do you know they aren't as rich? Did they move into that little house just outside your land?"

    "Yeah," I nodded, taking my robes from Malkin. Sirius and I payed the seamstress and headed into the front of the store. "I mean, that's the only other house for two miles."

    "Aunt Em!" Sirius cried, handing his things to me and hugging my aunt like he was a part of my family. Well, Sirius was like family. He addressed all my relatives as if they were his own, and they all adored him. All except Aunt Emily, who cringed, and gingerly pat him on the head.

    "Hello, Sirius. You haven't changed a bit since I saw you five years ago." This, of course, meant, "Sirius, you're just as irritating and detestable as you were five years ago." I'm sure you can also tell my aunt rarely associates with her family. Well, I don't complain.

    "You haven't changed either," Sirius said, following us outside. I noticed his eyes stray over to a crowd of people in front of Quality Quidditch Supplies, and I knew he was thinking about that Nimbus.

    "Hey, Si, did you get a look at that broom?" I asked as Aunt Emily took us to get cauldrons.

    "Yeah," Sirius said, his eyes glazing over. "As soon as I get home, I'm begging Serene for it."

    I nodded with agreement, which was followed by a loud click of my dear aunt's tongue.

    After purchasing our pewter cauldrons and a quick stop at the Apothecary, we went into Ollivander's to get our wands — the one thing I was wanted more than the Nimbus.

    My first thought when I stepped into the wandshop was that it needed some lights, and a good dusting.

    "AH-CHOO!" I sneezed.

    "Thanks, James," Sirius muttered, wiping off his face with his sleeve.

    "Sorry, Si," I sniffed. "I'm just — ah-choo! — allergic to — ac-hoo! — dust."

    "Is someone here?" a croaky voice called from the back. Out of the shadows came an old man. A very old man. I mean, he looked like he'd be dying any day now. "Ah, Emily Tomes. I remember when you came for your first wand."

    "It's Emily Clark," my aunt corrected, her voice a bit harsh. She always seemed a tad offended whenever something was mentioned that had anything to do with her ex-husband. "I returned to my maiden name when Martin and I divorced."

    "Of course," Ollivander nodded curtly, and turned to me. "You must be a Potter. You look just like Henry."

    "I'm his son," I said, followed by another sneeze. "I'm James."

    "Ah, then we can expect great things from you, I'm sure," Ollivander gave a small smile. A rather creepy smile, and his eyes fell on Sirius. "And who are you?"

    "Sirius Black," he said, and shook Ollivander's hand, much to the man's surprise.

    "Ah, yes, I remember your parents quite well," Ollivander said, looking Sirius over. "But you look nothing like Merteus. In fact, I'd say you look more like Serene."

    I noticed Sirius's eyes narrow, and knew my best friend felt greatly insulted. He hated being compared to his mother, or anyone in his family, for that matter. Ollivander must have realized this, because he said rather hastily, "Let me take a few measurements, then."

    Just as he reached into his pocket, there was the tinkling of a bell as the door behind me opened. We all turned around, and I yelled, "Hey, Evans!"

    It was Lily, nervously stepping forward, followed by two equally hesitant adults, who had to be her parents. I mean, the man looked a lot like her, with deep red hair. However, neither parent had green eyes.

    "Oh! Hi, James," she said, giving a small smile.

    "Ah, hello!" Mr. Ollivander said kindly, shaking Lily's hand. I cringed; if I heard "Ah," one more time, I'd scream. "I am Mr. Ollivander. What is your name?"

    "L-Lily Evans," she said in a small voice.

    "There's no need to be nervous, my dear," Ollivander said. "Now, I believe I was about to measure you." So he measured our height, and our arms — from wrist to elbow, wrist to shoulder, and shoulder to fingertips — before pulling Sirius forward, and then disappearing behind one of the shelves.

    "I wonder if he's a bit mad?" Sirius whispered, turning back to look at me.

    "Wouldn't surprise me if he was," I shrugged, just as Ollivander returned with a box.

    "This one seems very promising," he said, opening the box and pulling out a dark-wooded wand. "Maple, dragon heartstring core, twelve inches. Excellent for defense." He handed the wand to Sirius, who waved it grandly, nearly sticking it in Ollivander's nose. The wand immediately emitted red and green sparks. Clearly, it was promising. "Excellent!" Ollivander gave a small clap, and he put Sirius's wand aside. "Now, Miss Evans. . . ." he began scanning the bottom of a nearby case.

    "But what about me?" I wondered, louder than I intended. "I've been here longer than her!"

    "James! Don't be so rude!" Aunt Emily hissed, smacking me upside the head. Sirius snickered as he sat down on the floor.

    "Now now, Mr. Potter, be a gentleman!" Ollivander said, straightening up, ignoring, or maybe not even noticing, the glare I was giving him. "Miss Evans, try this one."

    With a trembling hand, Lily took the wand and waved it. Nothing happened.

    "No, that's no good," the shopkeeper snatched the wand from her hand and gave Lily another. Once again, Ollivander took it away. He disappeared into the back of the shop, and came back with a very dusty box. He blew the dust off — causing me to sneeze. He took the wand and looked it over. "This should do it. Ten and a quarter inches, willow, unicorn hair. Swishy, and good for Charms." Lily reluctantly took it, and waved it. She grinned broadly when emerald sparks — the same shade as her eyes — escaped from the end. Ollivander returned the wand to its box. "Miss Evans, that will be —"

    "Actually, I'd like to stay and watch James, if that's alright," she interrupted, looking at me.

    "Sure," I shrugged, a bit surprised. Lily sat down beside Sirius, and Ollivander went off to find a wand. He returned quickly, and handed it to me. "Ten and a half inches, oak, dragon heartstring, flexible." I waved it for not even a second before Ollivander took it away and gave me another.

    And this went on for over half an hour. I expected Lily to leave after the ninth, but she stayed, thoroughly interested.

    "How about this," Ollivander said desperately, placing the twenty-sixth wand in my hand, which was getting sore. "Mahogany, eleven inches, pliable, and very good with Transfiguration."

    As soon as my fingers closed around the wooden handle, I knew this was the one. Warmth spread up through my arm, and as soon as I waved it slightly, scarlet and gold sparks flew out.

    "Finally," Sirius muttered, giving a rather false yawn.

    "Ah, excellent wand, Mr. Potter," Ollivander nodded, returning my wand to its box.

    "What's the core?" I asked curiously.

    "Phoenix feather, which means you've got yourself a very powerful wand," Ollivander said, looking me square in the eye. "And I still go by what I said earlier: we can expect great things from you."

    "Er — thanks," I said akwardly. I mean, what else are you supposed to say when someone says your wand is powerful?

    We payed Ollivander six Galleons each for our wands before stepping out of the tiny shop, blinking in the sunlight.

    "So, James, care to introduce me to your friend?" Sirius asked.

    "Oh, right," I nodded. "Sirius, this is Lily Evans. Evans, this is Sirius Black."

    "A pleasure to meet you," Lily said, shaking Sirius's hand.

    "Geez, James, could you find anyone more proper?" Sirius grinned, making Lily blush slightly.

    "James, why don't we go and get some ice cream before I take you home," Aunt Emily said, pointing to the ice cream shop.

    "Sure," I nodded. "Come on, Sirius." We hadn't even taken one step when I turned back to Lily. "You wanna come?"

    "Um..." She turned to her parents. "Could I go get some ice cream with James and Sirius?"

    "I'm sorry, Duchess, but we have to be getting back to Petunia," her father said.

    Lily sighed, her smile fading. "Well, then I'll see you two on September first?"

    "Yep," Sirius and I said in unison, and Lily blended into the crowd with her parents.

    "Come on, James! I don't have all day!" Aunt Emily screeched.

    I made a face before heading inside with my aunt, Sirius right behind me.

    "So, James, where'd you find that Evans girl?" Sirius asked, sliding into a chair. I flopped down across from him, and Aunt Emily sat down on the opposite side of the room, where she couldn't hear us, but could still keep on eye on us. "She's a bit . . . oh, I don't know . . . proper."

    "Really? I thought she was kind of shy," I said with a shrug. "And you know how I feel about people who don't talk as much as I do."

    "Your standards are too high, nobody talks as much as you."

    "Nobody except my best pal."

    "And who's that?" Sirius raised an eyebrow sarcastically.

     "Oh, you don't know him," I said slyly. "He's much more attractive than you, and his pranks are much better than your lame ones."

    "What's his name?" Sirius said, with mock offense. "I'll get rid of him! No, where did you meet ol' shy-and-proper-Evans?"

    "Flourish and Blotts," I said, tapping the table. I wanted ice cream. Where was Florean Fortescue when you needed him? "She's Muggleborn."

    "Really?" The mischievous gleam returned to Sirius's eye. "Think of the pranks we could pull on her, and her mum and dad!"

    I shook my head, smiling all the same. There was a pause in our conversation as I waved down Florean, and we finally ordered our ice cream.

    "She's also really small," Sirius said, looking out the window.

    "Who?"

    "Your buddy, Evans." Sirius rolled his eyes. "She's short."

    "Everyone is short compared to you," I pointed out.

    "True." He nodded, and licked his lips as our ice cream was placed in front of us. "Don't tell me you got —"

    "Mocha chocolate fudge," I finished, grinning. You see, people try to keep me from ordering my favorite frozen treat. They seem to think that all the chocolate and caffiene makes me more hyper than I usually am. Do you honestly think I'm hyper? Neither do I.

    I dug my spoon into my bowl and took a huge bite. Mmm... nothing's better than mocha chocolate fudge. Especially on a hot, summer's day. Well, maybe the cooking at home is better...nope, this is definately the best food on the planet.

    "So, are you going to tell me what those pranks are that you mentioned earlier?" I asked curioiusly.

    "No can do, my friend." Sirius shook his head, eating his mint chocolate chip ice cream. What a boring flavor. "Too many ears. Who knows who could be listening."

    I looked around. Since it was only a week before school, there weren't many people around. Just an old, wrinkled couple, me and Sirius, and Aunt Emily.

    "Yes, Si, anyone could be listening," I rolled my eyes.

    "Well, it's true." Sirius nodded. "For all we know, your girlfriend Evans could be listening with her Muggle Mummy and Daddy."

    "She's not my girlfriend," I snapped. "I just wanted her to feel welcome in the wizard world." Which was true. I'm a nice person like that.

    "If you say so, Jamesie-boy."