Chapter: 8/? ["The Beginning, part 1"]
Previous Chapters: Intro, I, II, III, IV, V, VI, VII, and VIIa
Author: Electric Zucchini
Fandom: Harry Potter - Marauders Era
Chapter Summary: 'Surrounding these eyes was a face. Not an attractive face, and not an ugly one. The epitome of average. Surrounding this face was a mop of blonde hair and a rather chubby neck. Surrounding this ne- well, we could go on like this for ages, but instead let's try something like "There was an average-looking chubby little blonde boy staring at James and James was staring right back." Yes, that'll do.'
Chapter Warnings: Meh. Who cares?
Archiving: Ask first (already on ff.net and my LiveJournal [pookizegreat])
Disclaimer: Any and all things and people you recognise in this fic belong to JK Rowling [author of the Harry Potter series] or some other person. I am only responsible for the original characters in this fic. I am making no profit from writing this fanfiction, I am only having fun.
Chapter Pairing(s): None, although you could most likely make lots of slashable moments in this between the Marauders, you sick sick people. ^~*
Feedback: Yes please. CONSTRUCTIVE CRITICISM is welcome. FLAMES will be laughed at and used to light my mother's cancer sticks.
A/N: Yay for taking a really long time to get chapters up. Pfft. I'm planning, bitches. Thank you to the following reviewers: Once again a note that most of these people did not in fact review IITLTID, but other stories of mine, I just choose to thank them here.
linkeepsitreal, aelfgifu, quendria, dementedsiren, finsaur_venusy, sparksandclocks, holly_san, jnhardyzmercy, thesurvivalist, asuka_unit02, kaufee_cake, duva, jiffy_spiffy, lilkougagurl, bamfchickie, ghostwalker, smsten, nuklear_firefly, clouds_up, LilyClairePotter, lafantome574, elohvee, meghanjinx, of_bad_faith, makya_sasami, winterbymorning, skyria, marksykins, leather_wings, carawj, molten_mercury, edgefire, babycakesin, Manny2003, Trinity Day, PuDdLe Of MuD, roz_morgan, orlandosonlyluv, hikari_cyhan, katho, anemone_frost, Sirius' sweetie, Sophocles, blackmagickbaby, honerlovesfrank, toasty_frog, _think_tink_ A Glass Of Water, meltedcrayon Also, I was in a rather silly mood while writing part of this, as is evident of the summary and the part surrounding it.
The Beginning, part 1
August 15th, 1971
James glared at the mirror in his hand, thoroughly insenced at the fact that he still had no idea of its purpose, despite having studied it for hours. He shoved it deep into the pocket of his robes as his mother called him, and lifted up his trunk, his broom (which he'd been quite dismayed to learn he wasn't allowed to bring along with him for the first year) floating alongside him.
He strode through the kitchen and out into the already slowly chilling August air, walking to the stationwagon his parents were loading their things into as Elias slept in the back seat.
Most Wizarding families wouldn't even contemplate doing such a thing so deplorable as travelling in a Muggle car, enchanted or not, but James's mother despised the Knight Bus, and no one trusted Elias to fly.
James glanced up as his father, finished ramming his own broom and care kit into the very back seat.
Giving a small sigh, James swallowed his pride and walked up to his father, tugging lightly at his side.
"Um ... Dad?"
Jim looked down over his spectacles at his young son. "Yes?"
"C'n I ask you a question?"
"It's pronounced can, James. And I'm sure you're quite capable of doing so." And with that he turned away, walking briskly down towards the cabin to fetch his wife.
James smacked his forehead, cursing inwardly. Damned grammar nazis ...
He panted slightly as he caught Jim up at the door.
"Dad, Dad ..."
Jim looked down at the boy again trying not to laugh.
"Dad, may I ask you a question?"
Jim smiled, his eyes crinkling behind the golden frames. "Aye, son. Ask away."
James fumbled in his robes' pocket, quickly pulling the mirror out and holding it out to his father.
Jim grabbed the mirror, concern flooding his face. It was no cheap trinket, this. Round and highly polished, with gold edges set with jewels; Jim doubted his son knew the worth of it. Indeed, it was so richly decorated that it barely avoided tackiness.
Jim's eyes returned to his son's, raising a severe eyebrow. "Where did you get this, son?" he asked quietly.
"Sirius gave it to me," James replied. "But I dunno where he got it from," he said, pointing at the inricate "TP" engraved on the back of the mirror. "And I thought and thought but I can't figure out what on earth it's supposed to do!"
Jim stared perplexedly at the mirror, just as stumped as his son, when suddenly a harried Irish voice came from behind them.
"Would you two lugs move? We have to get going, you know!" Keelin Potter stood behind her husband, the diminuitive blonde glaring up at Jim with a deeply annoyed expression, her thin little arms wrapped tightly around a box full of spices.
Catching sight of the mirror, Keelin gasped, quickly setting the box down and snatching the mirror from her husband, examining it thoroughly. After a minute, James, more impatient than he'd ever been in his short life, looked up at his mother and suddenly blurted, "Well? What is it?"
"It's a mirror ..." Keelin said slowly. James opened his mouth to make a sarcastic retort, in a mood darker than a dragon's heart, but Jim silenced him with a look. No one in their family knew Wizarding history (and genealogy) better than Keelin.
"It's a mirror," she began again, "crafted by Phineas Nigellus years and years ago. It has a dulpicate, as do all imitations of it made soon after, and with the simple request of who you want it to show, providing they are looking in the mirror at the same time, will open up a direct line of communication between the two mirror-holders. It, and the other duplicates of it, were used in the war against the Dark Wizard Grimmauld." She finally moved her eyes from the mirror to James. "Where did you get this, Jamie?" she asked quietly.
"S-Sirius," he said, thoroughly shocked by all the information he'd just received.
"Of course!" Keelin exclaimed, slapping her forehead. "Phineas Nigellus would have to be ... oh ... yes, I believe that would be Sirius's great-great-grandfather!" She handed the mirror back to James and once again lifted the box, carrying it to the car.
James followed her dazedly, running his fingers over the gilded edges pf the mirror as he crawled into the back seat. Glancing at Elias and reassuring himself the man was asleep, James looked resolutely into the mirror and whispered "Show me Sirius Black."
His reflection flickered for a second, and he blinked a few times as a new one appeared. It was of a boy with closed eyes and sleak black hair.
It took James a second for him to collect his wits, but suddenly he hissed "Sirius!" at the reflection.
The boy's eyes snapped open, revealing that same shocking shade of crystalline blue James remembered. The eyes widened, the short black eyelashes making an almost comical frame."James!" he exclaimed, the word starting loud and dying to a quiet tone. His face broke out into a smile. "Finally figured it out, did you?"
James grinned sheepishly. "Me Mum did, actually."
Sirius slapped his hand over his mouth and laughed into it, the muffled sound remarkably close to a bark, although much too high-pitched to belong to any dog which would create such a strong belly noise.
Grinning broadly himself, James spoke again. "So, how've you been?"
Sirius smirked. "I've been home," he said. "So take a gue-" the word died on his lips and his eyes darted up to something James couldn't see. His pallor took on a greenish tinge, accentuating the appearance of the many half-faded bruises on his face, and suddenly James saw a fist come out of nowhere, then total darkness.
The reflection slowly faded back to showing James's face, and his own face went slightly green itself.
He half-jumped as Keelin and Jim got into the front seat, and stuffed the mirror back to the bottom of his robes' pockets.
Keelin turned about in her seat as she did up as she did up her seatbelt and Jim started up the car. "Are you goin' to be talkin' to your friend, now, Jamie?"
James kept his eyes on his feet, feeling the painfully attentive stare of his mother on his down-turned face.
"I ... I think I'll be waitin' 'till we get home, Mum."
August 29th, 1971
The pre-autumn sun shone down on the heads of the crowd milling in Diagon Alley.
Pushing their way through the masses were James and Keelin Potter, the willowy blonde keeping a rather frightening death grip on James's hand.
"Bloody housewives," Keelin muttered heatedly, "always putting things off until the last moment ..."
James blinked, vaguely contemplating pointing out that Keelin was a housewife who had put shopping for Hogwarts off until the last minute, but decided against it, realising he didn't want to die a virgin.
Suddenly Keelin halted, staring ahead at a spot too high for James to see in the crowd.
"Dammit, Jim," she whispered.
She lifted James up and placed him in front of a broom supply shop where the latest Comet was on display. "Stay here," she muttered.
James climbed up onto the ledge of the display window, grinning as he spotted his Mum storming over to his dad, who was chatting animatedly with a flirty redhead who James highly doubted had been legal for more than a year. He'd been told that Potter men had quite the weakness for redheads, but luckily so far he'd broken The Curse; James had always been a puller of brown pigtails. His great-Aunt Mabel said he was obviously a narcissist.
He smirked as Jim caught sight of his enraged wife pushing her way towards him. No matter how many times it happened, his expression was always priceless.
Suddenly he felt the tug of someone's eyes on him, and looked down to discover himself met with a pair of narrow, dark green eyes.
Surrounding these eyes was a face. Not an attractive face, and not an ugly one. The epitome of average. Surrounding this face was a mop of blonde hair and a rather chubby neck. Surrounding this ne- well, we could go on like this for ages, but instead let's try something like "There was an average-looking chubby little blonde boy staring at James and James was staring right back." Yes, that'll do.
James, starting to become uncomfortable with the gratituous staring scene, looked quite uncomfortable. "... Hi?" he said uncomfortably.
The boy flushed faintly, and suddenly looked very interested with his shoes. "Sorry," he mumbled quietly. "I was wondering why you were on the window ledge."
It was James's turn to flush. "Er, I was just watching me mum chew out me dad for flirting."
The boy grinned hesitantly. "My Mum does that, too."
James grinned as he jumped down, discovering with some surprise that even standing on the same level that he was almost a good six inches taller than the other boy.
James stuck his hand out, grinning hesitantly yet again. "The name's James Potter."
The boy smiled, shaking James's hand vigorously. "Mine's Peter. Peter Pettigrew."
A young boy stood in Flourish and Blotts, staring helplessly up at the top shelf, where 'The Beginner's Guide to Herbology' was located. The shelf was at least three times his height, but he supposed that wasn't saying much. He sighed, looking over to the opposite side of the store, where a clerk was discussing what books would best inform them on how to get rid of a pesky bunch of ashwinders.
He could go ask for help, but ... he didn't want to bother anyone.
Suddenly he spotted a boy near his age, and raised an eyebrow. Catching sight of him, the other boy did the same.
He blinked as the other boy came right up to him. "D'you know where 'A Beginner's Guide to Herbology' is?" he asked.
The first boy blinked again. "Up on the top shelf," he replied.
The other boy looked up and nodded. "Jolly good, then. You need a copy, too?"
The boy nodded.
"Alright, then. I'll get them, I'm taller than you, anyways. You going to Hogwarts, too?" he asked, starting to climb up the book shelf.
The first boy almost shouted out, but, deciding he probably shouldn't do anything that's get his first possible friend in 6 years in trouble, merely nodded. "Aye," he said. As the other boy started to climb down, two books in hand, the first boy decided it would be a good idea to attempt manners. "What's your name?" he asked?
"Sirius Black," the other boy replied jovially as he jumped the last meter down, holding out the boy's copy of 'Beginner's Guide'. "And yours?"
"Remus," the boy said, smiling broadly as he took his copy. "Remus Lupin."
Kelly Pettigrew smiled genially at Keelin Potter over her tea, trying to think of something to say. Their husbands were happily chatting about Quidditch, and their sons about - well - Quidditch. Unfortunately, Kelly herself couldn't think of something to say for the life of her.
Kelly and Keelin were overall alike. They were both women of simple pleasures, both from farming communities, and had they been talking, they probably would have found various other similarities. Instead, they merely smiled at each other over tea. The problem was this: Kelly was a Muggle.
So, while Kelly's childhood consisted of milking cows, driving in cars with boys, and pet dogs, while Keelin's consisted of batting at yard gnomes with a mop, riding on broomsticks with boys, and pet puffskeins.
Needless to say, this could lead to quite the communication barrier.
Suddenly Kelly spoke. "My husband likes brown eyes," she said, lowering her own green ones. Keeling blinked for a second, then smiled. "Red heads," she said simply.
The two jumped a bit, Keelin spilling tea on her robes, as a tall boy jumped the railing of the patio they were on and stood up on the arm of James's chair, shouting a greeting.
Immediately the two gave each other the kind of bear hug those odd little creatures as males are so well-known for, talking loudly and attracting the attention of basically everyone within hearing range.
When finally they'd settled down (and James and Peter's fathers had gotten back to discussing the sad state of affairs concerning the Chudley Cannons), James leapt over his seat, dragging the other boy along with him to Keelin and Kelly, who still looked rather paralyzed.
"Mum, you remember Sirius, right?"
Keelin lowered her hand from the protective place it had been holding at her throat and nodded slowly. "Aye," she said, her voice cracking slightly. "I do."
She cleared her throat and looked up at the brightly smiling Sirius. "And how've you been doin', lad?"
Sirius grinned a bit more. "Oh, alright," he replied. "The family's been too concerned with shippin' me off to Hogwarts to bother getting mad at me, and my cousin's been over to visit, but that's alright because they tend to choose to ignore me, anyways."
Keelin smiled vaguely. "That's good, dear. What are your cousin's names?"
Sirius smirked. "Bellatrix - she's a mad 1st year, off her knocker already - Andromeda - 4th year, pretty decent, but doesn't much warrant a lowly 'leven-year=old like me worth talkin' to - and Narcussa ... her name says it all, really. Second year."
James looked sideways at Sirius. "Are they hot, mate?"
Sirius made a face as though he'd just ingested a handful of vomit-flavored Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans. "James, no," he hissed, while Keelin shot her son an extremely reproachful look.
Suddenly Sirius blinked, as though a bag of flour had just fallen on his head. "Oh! Also ..." he strode off towards the edge of the patio, laughing and helping a rather timid-looking boy with semi-long light brown hair and eyes to match, both sporting slightly coppery tones. He was about the same height as James, but with rather more of a frail build, and he coughed slightly into his fist as Sirius brought him forward. "This is Remus Lupin," he said, quickly introducing the others. Remus waved a bit as James quickly collected Peter and introduced him as well.
And so it was as the boys - along with Peter and James's parents - walked off to Ollivander's that the soon-to-be infamous Marauders were born.