The Marauders
Illustration by Sayuri Mima
Dear readers,
The piece of writing below is the hopeful beginning of a set of seven books recounting the lives and experience of “The Marauders”.
For those of you who are not Harry Potter fans, the Marauders are four characters whom J.K. Rowling ( the author of the ‘Harry Potter’ series) created as mentors for the main characters. I believe that their lives are stories worth telling. My aim is to write another series of books, which would be “prequels” to the Harry Potter series, in order to expand on the lives of the Marauders and hopefully give Harry Potter fans something else in that genre to read. Below are the first two chapters of Book 1, whose name has not yet been decided.
The Marauders
James
Enormous lightning bolts invaded the night sky, and the low but powerful rumble of thunder that occurred in spasms drowned all other sounds. The rain clattered on the roof, and the plinking resonated throughout the entire house. Water droplets seeped through the poorly sealed windows, and as more water came in, the floor began to dampen. The trees in the garden whistled as the wind blew across their many leaves, and the sparrows chirped faintly in their covered nests, as they sought shelter from the downpour.
James had taken over the couch, his knees on the cushions and his head glued to the glass window. The dim light of the moon along with the raindrops on the windows almost made him invisible while he quietly observed the rain. It was very unnatural for James to be quiet, but he had a very particular and determined reason for being solemn.
“Why isn’t it coming? “He thought, “It’s already July!”
Suddenly he felt a soft hand caress his shoulder.
“Not now Mom,” he mumbled, “I'm busy.”
“Busy doing what?” she retorted, “simply waiting for your letter is not going to help it arrive faster. Just relax. It will come soon. Now are you really going to spend another whole day with your face plastered onto a window?”
As a response he emitted a soft but irritated grunt which left his mother smiling as she made her way back to the kitchen.
James wasn’t convinced, but decided that she was right. Waiting wouldn't make it come any faster. So, he climbed the three flights of steep stairs to his room, threw himself on his bed, and played with a yoyo. He was eleven years old, and the letter he was waiting for, was his ticket to the magical school his parents had gone to. Hogwarts: School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.
He was worried he would not receive his letter, that he would have to face the insult of being a non magical person with magical parents. In other words, a Squib. But that would not happen. He was sure of it. Then why was he so tense?
His wandering thoughts were interrupted by a loud bang, that sounded very much like matter on glass. He heard his mother exclaim:
“Oh no! The poor thing! Fleamont! Help!”
Hearing this, he immediately got up and bolted down the stairs in fear for his mothers’ safety.
“James! Come!” shouted his father from the bottom of the stairs, “it's an owl!”
An owl! This was it!
When he reached the foot of the stairs, he rushed to the kitchen. His parents stood there beaming. His mother had a brown letter in her hand.
“What a clumsy owl!” she said with a laugh.
He eyed it warily as though not believing it was real. He took the coffee brown letter from her with shaky hands. Upon it, was a red seal with the letter H beautifully engraved on it. He tore open the seal, and read the letter aloud:
Dear Mr.Potter,
We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.
Students shall be required to report to the Chamber of Reception upon arrival, the dates for which shall be duly advised.
Please ensure that the utmost attention be made to the list of requirements attached herewith.
We very much look forward to receiving you as part of the new generation on Hogwarts heritage.
Yours sincerely,
Professor McGonagall
Along with this, there was another sheet of paper. It read:
UNIFORM
First year students will require:
Three sets of plain work robes (black)
One plain pointed hat (black) for day wear
One pair of protective gloves (dragonhide or similar)
One winter cloak (black silver fastenings)
Please note that all pupils' clothes should carry name tags.
BOOKS
All students should have a copy of each of the following:
The standard book of spells Grade 1 by Miranda Goshawk
A history of magic by Bathilda Bagshot
Magical Theory by Adalbert Waffling
A beginners guide to transfiguration by Emeric Switch
One thousand magical herbs and fungi by Phyllida Spore
Magical drafts and Potions by Arsenius Jigger
Fantastic beasts and where to find them by Newt Scamander
The Dark Forces: a guide to self protection by Quentin Trimble
OTHER EQUIPMENT
1 wand
1 cauldron
1 set of glass or crystal vials
1 telescope
1 set of brass scales
Students may also bring and owl OR a cat or a toad
PARENTS ARE REMINDED THAT FIRST YEARS ARE NOT ALLOWED THEIR OWN BROOMSTICKS.
It ended there, and James was speechless for a while.
“I’m off to school!” he murmured under his breath.
“That you are!” replied his father with a huge grin.
His parents hugged and kissed him until he had to drag himself away from their clasp.
He immediately ran out of the house, in the pouring rain, went across the street, and knocked fervently on the door of his neighbour, Peter’s house.
When Peter opened the door, he was holding a letter as well, and it was the absolute twin of the one James had in his hand.
“You got it?” James asked with excitement.
“I got it!” replied Peter with just as much enthusiasm.
The friends hugged, and jumped around in the newly formed puddles like they had just gotten free ice cream for life.
“Let's go to Diagon alley together!” shouted Peter at the top of his lungs.
“I’ll make sure we do, Pete” replied James, “no need to shout!”
The two friends entered Peter’s house, arms locked, and full of frenzy for all the adventures that they would surely have.
Sirius
12 Grimmauld Place was huge. It had so many nooks and crannies and places to hide, but somehow Sirius always felt exposed. Maybe it was the pressure of being one of the “Blacks''. It was such a powerful pure blood family, that everyone was expected to be great. Those who weren't, were disowned. His darling mother had a ginormous family tree painted in one of the many rooms of the mansion. This tree represented all the people from or related to the family. Whenever someone or the other acted in a way that in his mother’s opinion, “stained the family name”, she would blacken the spot on the family tree that had their name and image. That was it for them. No second chances, no forgiveness. Poof. Just like that they were no longer a Black.
Sirius was exceedingly cautious with his actions, since he did not want to disappoint, but he just felt so empty. His whole life felt like a void, a life that lacked happiness, one that was deprived of love. He was never allowed to do anything that his parents did not approve of. That was pretty much everything. His mother would make him sit down twice a day for two hours, and she would teach him about the dreaded muggle borns and how he should hate them. He was a great prankster, but over and over his mother would tell him: “ Sirius! Pranking will not help you bring pride to the name of Black! Only when you do something great, will you be recognised!”
He could hear her incredibly shrill voice in his head, repeating her signature phrase over and over. Currently his mother was in the parlour with some guests and the only reason she was not urging him to descend the velvet covered stairs from his room and join her, was because she thought he was revising his muggle history.
“It is very important to know where your enemy comes from,” she would say repeatedly, “that way you may use their past mistakes and flaws against them!”
“Ugh, someone rescue me!” he said aloud.
Suddenly he heard a soft thud. He looked around to find its source, and concluded that it had come from his closet. He got up and noiselessly walked on the tips of his toes, and when he reached the cupboard, he threw open the door with a: ‘hah!’
Standing there, at a height of two feet, was his house elf. The creature grinned sheepishly and said:
“So, I hear Master Sirius would like to be saved? From whom I wonder? Surely not from his dear mother who loves him so. Kreacher is very surprised. Mistress would not be pleased at all if she heard this. No no no no no…”
In a flash, Sirius had him pinned to the wall by his throat.
“What do you want, Kreacher?” He said ferociously, “I hope you realise that I can tell my mother anything, and she will believe me. So, I truly hope it wasn’t you who burned those important letters she was trying so hard to find.”
Sirius said this with a sarcastic pouty face which transformed into an evil sneer. Kreacher let out a hiss. He pushed his way out of the cupboard, and walked briskly towards the door. He gave Sirius one last glare, and left the room.
About a minute later, he understood that his mother was calling him, from the very faint, but distinguishable shrieks coming from downstairs.
“Siriuuuuus! Time for your lessons!”
Her guests must have left her.
With a sigh, Sirius lay on his bed. He looked up to the ceiling and prayed silently for a means of escape.
Approximately three hours later, Sirius heard a tap at the kitchen window. His mother was rattling on about mudbloods, and squibs, but she heard it too and stopped mid-sentence. Her little eyes squinted as she rambled to the window and lifted it. A brown owl was silently perched on the sill. In its beak it held a medium sized letter, with a red seal. His mother grabbed the letter and shooed the bird away. It left reluctantly without receiving a treat. Now she approached her son with weary eyes.
“Sirius,” she started, “you will, I see, be going to school. I doubted very much that your letter would come, but it seems like you are destined for some form of greatness. Hogwarts is a.. decent.. school for magicians. But I am sure they will take care of you in Slytherin.” she grimaced and her usual haughtiness seemed to mellow down. A bit.
Sirius was flabbergasted. He just nodded absentmindedly and took the letter from his mother. After reading it he put it down and looked out into the distance trying to process what he had just read.
“Blimey.”
This was his escape. Of course he would have to come back during the holidays, but being away for most of the year was good enough.
He placed the envelope on the table and left the room with wobbly feet. He couldn’t believe this was happening.
A few moments later his younger brother came through the corridor. When he noticed Sirius, he looked at him with curious eyes.
“What are you standing like that for?”
“It is too far beyond the grasp of your limited knowledge” he said with a faked haughty look. “After all you’ve only just turned 10! Silly Regulus.”
Regulus’ intrigued face turned into a scowl, and he marched off angrily.
Sirius sniggered. He loved tormenting his brother. They had never really gotten along, but he was the only person in the house that Sirius didn’t mind having around. Mother had always favoured Regulus. But Sirius had not been jealous like any other brother would have been. In fact it had made him like his brother more. The less attention Sirius brought to himself, the better. As he walked around the house aimlessly, his attention was drawn to the familiar shiny sign covered in glass with a gilded border.
‘Toujours Pur’
It was French for: always pure.
This was a very clear reminder to everyone in the house that the Blacks did not tolerate anything to do with Muggleborns.
At 5 PM, Sirius’s father came back home. He entered with his usual serene disposition, but he greeted his children and his wife with kindness.
They sat on the sofa for the usual half an hour discussion about their day’s work.
“How is my dearest Walby today?” he asked his wife affectionately.
Walby was Orion’s nickname for Sirius’s mother whose full first name was Walburga. She pretended she did not like his affectionate name for her but Sirius had a feeling that she waited impatiently for this time of the day just so she could hear it.
She smiled in response to this and acknowledged her wellbeing.
Next the great Orion Black turned to his sons.
“Sirius, Regulus. What new things happened for you today?”
“I got my letter for Hogwarts this morning. Mother reckons they will take care of me,” said Sirius softly.
Regulus’s mouth dropped open.
“My…” he replied, “I am so proud Sirius. You will make an excellent Slytherin I am sure.”
“That’s what I said,” piped in his mother
Sirius was very eager to contradict that statement and remind his mother that she had thought his letter would never come. But he held himself back. Nothing good would come out of criticising Walburga.
The discussion went on and as his father talked about his day, Sirius started imagining all the possible things that would happen during the school year.
The good for sure, but also, the bad.