Before October 1981

by Flowerpot1971

Summary:

We all know who the marauders are because we know the story of the great chosen one. Well this is their story, the story before the tragedy of October 31st 1981, the day one lost everyone he loved. One was gone to the world. One chose the wrong path and the other never to see the light of day again. before this, unlikely friendships were formed, love bloomed in the most unexpected ways and people that can only be remembered by the courageous and most exciting things they did. Now come along and hear their story.

Notes:

• For marauders_taylorsversion.

Chapter 1: september first...

The main ships in this fic are Wolfstar and Jilly. Please don't complain about how I've portrayed the characters; this is my fic.

James:

He woke to sunlight in his eyes, a peaceful start under warm covers. He remembered a dream: him and Peter, his neighbor, playing Quidditch in the garden. Peter was his only real friend. The other muggles nearby weren't so nice, teasing him with names like "posh" or "foureyes," especially when he didn't understand "footie."

"JAMES FLEAMONT POTTER!" His thoughts scattered. "GET DOWN HERE, YOU'RE LATE!" his mum shouted.

His eyes snapped open. Today was the day. Hogwarts. He scrambled out of bed, nearly tripping.

"Coming!" he yelled, bounding down the stairs, skipping the last few steps. He burst into the kitchen, grinning at his mum and dad. "Hello, Mother, hello, Father, how are you this fine morning?" he said in an exaggerated posh accent, just like his dad's.

In a flash, he was swept onto his father's lap. "Who do you think you're imitating, hmm?" His dad tickled him.

"Dad... stop! I'm going to Hogwarts in…" He checked his watch. "…an hour and fifteen minutes! You can't do that anymore—" He stopped. "AN HOUR AND FIFTEEN MINUTES?!" He leaped off his father's lap, leaving his mother with a plate of bacon and eggs as he raced upstairs to get ready.

Sirius:

It was cold, always cold. He rose in the quiet, as usual, and dressed. The mirror above his dresser was his favorite, a gift for his eleventh birthday. He'd gotten a few things from distant family, mostly Slytherin merchandise he didn't like. But the mirror, with its snakes and real jewels, was from his parents.

He walked to his little brother's room. "Reggie… Psst, Regulus," he whispered. A groan. "Reggggie? You awake?"

"Mhh… I don't wanna get up, Siri."

"You have to, or Mother and Father will be mad, and you won't get to go to the station."

"Gosh, Sirius, why didn't you say so? I forgot!" He jumped up, excited.

As Sirius walked, he bumped into Kreacher, the house-elf, who gave him a sour look. Sirius didn't like Kreacher, and Kreacher didn't like Sirius.

"Stop winding each other up," Regulus said, poking his head out the door.

"I am very sorry, Master Regulus," Kreacher said.

Sirius smiled, watching Regulus's rare, unconditional happiness. Why was that? That was not Sirius’ story to tell.

He walked downstairs, drawn by the firelight. His father was reading the paper. He paused, bracing himself.

"Sirius, I know you're there," his father's voice echoed. "Don't just stand there like a fool. Come here now."

He stood before his father, who roughly adjusted his collar. "Merlin, you're eleven and can't button your top button? Where did I go wrong?" He sneered, missing Sirius’ smirk.

"It was deliberate, Father," Sirius said innocently.

"Deliberate? Why on earth would you do that deliberately?"

"It's called style, Father. Haven't you heard of it?" He looked his father up and down. "Doesn't look like it."

His father frowned and hit him. Sirius barely felt it. Nothing hurt anymore. Nothing.

Chapter 2: New friends at the station

Summary:

where they make new friends...

Sirius~

It was a cacophony of sound, the kind that filled the air with an infectious energy. The joyful shouts of children echoed around the station, laughter mingling with the excited chatter of siblings and their parents.

In the midst of it all, Orion Black gripped Sirius' shoulder tightly, while Walburga held onto Regulus with a look of concern etched across her face. Sirius could see that her anxiety intensified whenever she glanced at Regulus. He understood the reason behind it; she feared that someone might notice her worry, that her obliviate spell hadn’t worked as intended.

“Come on, Sirius, come rebe—” Walburga began, but Sirius cut her off.

“Regulus,” he corrected swiftly, his voice steady.

Orion’s grip tightened, almost painfully so, as he barked, “Enough, boy. Apologize to your mother now.” Sirius met his mother’s gaze, unwavering. “I’m sorry, mother, for correcting you, but it’s not his name you—”

-Smack-

“That's enough of that foul mouth! Go sit on that bench and wait for us. We have business to discuss with our friends,” Walburga snapped, pushing Regulus to sit beside him.

“Don’t let Sirius get into any more trouble... Rebekah,” she added, casting a glance at Sirius that felt like a deliberate jab.

“I’m sorry,” Regulus murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. “I wish someone saw... Maybe they would—”

“No one ever sees, Reggie... ever,” Sirius replied, his tone heavy with sadness.

His gaze drifted to a tall boy saying goodbye to a woman with long, flowing hair. What caught his attention was the long scar that ran down the boy’s face to the curve of his neck, alongside the light brown freckles that dotted half of his face. The boy's curly sandy hair contrasted sharply with Sirius' own appearance, making him look sheepish and intriguing, a complete opposite to himself.

“Tell Mum I’m going,” he said quickly, feeling a strange mix of curiosity and longing.

"Wait!... a hug?" Regulus asked. Sirius shook his head, laughing softly, and pulled him into a bone-crushing hug.

"Love you, Reggie. Try to write, but I'll understand if you can't," he said warily, glancing around for his parents.

"I promise I'll try," he replied as Sirius turned to board the train.

Remus~

"Oy, mind if I sit here?" he asked a mousy-looking boy.

"Oh, sure... Of course, please sit," the boy stammered.

As Remus settled in, he noticed a boy with glasses hanging around his neck and shaggy dark hair burst into the compartment, startling the mousy boy and disrupting the peace.

"Hiya, Pete, how's it going?" the boy almost yelled, plopping down next to the shy boy.

"I'm doing great, James. I was just coming to look for you, but this guy sat down," he said, as if Remus was unwanted. Remus grumbled a bit and stood up.

"He didn't mean it like that, mate, you're fine, don't worry," James said.

"Mean what?" Pete asked, confused.

"Nothing, Peter, absolutely nothing," James said, smiling at him. "Anyway, what's your name? I'm James Potter, and that's Peter Pettigrew."

"I'm Remus, uh, Remus Lupin," he replied, feeling awkward.

James nodded. "Cool name. Isn't that something to do with the moon or something?" he stated confidently.

"I don't really know, and I don't like stuff like that," he said, a bit of his Welsh accent coming out.

James hummed at his response, sensing that Remus didn't want to talk much.

After they all settled into their spots, Remus excused himself to go to the toilet. On the way, he glimpsed a boy with long dark hair and three girls who seemed to share the same bone structure. They were laughing about something, but the boy looked miserable. He felt bad for him.

Still looking at the boy, he bumped into someone.

"Oh, my, I'm so sorry, it's my fault!" a girl said frantically, her red hair flying everywhere.

"It's alright, don't worry, no one's hurt," he said sweetly, trying to reassure her.

"No, it's not. I'll walk you back to your compartment," she insisted. Completely forgetting about the toilet, he followed her back.

"I’m Lily, by the way, Lily Evans," she said, reaching out to shake his hand. He accepted it.

"I'm Remus Lupin."

"What a pretty name!" Remus blushed at the compliment.

"Erm, this is me," he said, leaning slightly against the compartment door as he thanked her. "Thanks, Lily."

"Bye, Remus, have a great rest of your trip!" she waved. He turned to see James with his face practically pressed against the glass of the door.

"Who was that, mate? She was sooo... pretty," he said, drawing out the words.

"Lily Evans," he answered quickly, trying not to laugh at his expression.

"I think Lily Potter has a better ring to it, don't you think?" he asked no one in particular.

A crash came from the door of the compartment. It was the boy with the long dark curly hair and the bone structure of a Greek god... and with this smile-

Remus's thoughts were cut off.

"What did I just hear about a potty!!" he burst out laughing, and Remus's thoughts went blank again.

Notes:

yes, i know regulus' dead name is rebekah and that it's not a constellation or a star but i found the star 'ruchbah' and it reminded me of the name rebekah so let's just pretend onion and burger named reggie after this star and its pronounced and spelled like rebekah. ok? ok.

Chapter 3: Every flavour beans

Remus ~

The compartment was buzzing with nervous excitement and the rustling of sweet wrappers. James, Sirius, and Peter, who had only just met on the train, were already thick as thieves, swapping stories and showing off their newly acquired sweets from the trolley. Laughter bounced off the walls as they tried Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans, each daring the other to try the most disgusting flavor.

Remus sat quietly by the window, clutching a worn copy of "Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them." He watched the unfamiliar landscape whiz by, a mix of anticipation and apprehension swirling within him. The boisterous energy of the other boys was a little overwhelming, but he couldn't help but feel a flicker of curiosity about them.

"Hey, moon boy!" James called out, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "What's so interesting out that window?"

Remus startled, his cheeks flushing slightly. "Nothing, really. Just... um watching." He hesitated, then added, "And it's a good book." He held it up slightly as if to prove his point. Sirius leaned forward, a curious expression on his face. "What's it about?" he asked, and for the first time, Remus felt a glimmer of hope that maybe, just maybe, he might fit in after all with these..boys.

Sirius ~
The compartment was already a riot. Potter and that chubby kid, Peter, were practically snorting with laughter, shoving those Every Flavor Beans into each other's mouths like it was some kind of twisted game. I couldn't help but grin; Potter was definitely my kind of trouble.

From the moment Sirius clapped eyes on James, he knew his parents would hate him. James was everything they despised: carefree, boisterous, and radiating a pure joy that seemed foreign to the gloomy halls of Grimmauld Place. His parents had drilled into him the importance of blood purity, the superiority of the Blacks, and the need to associate only with those of their kind. James Potter, with his messy hair and easy grin, was definitely not their kind.

But that was precisely what drew Sirius to him. He’d spent his entire life suffocating under the weight of his family's expectations, and James was like a breath of fresh air, a rebellion in the making, destined to wear a Gryffindor scarf. As they swapped stories and jokes in the train compartment, Sirius found himself laughing harder than he had in years.

When James mentioned his parents were the Potters, Sirius barely registered it. He knew his parents would be furious if they knew he was befriending a "blood traitor," but a defiant voice in his head whispered, "So what?" He was tired of living his life according to their rules. He wanted to make his own choices, even if it meant facing their wrath.

Then there was the quiet one, Remus. He was hunched by the window like he was trying to disappear into the scenery, clutching a battered copy of "Fantastic Beasts." Moon boy, Potter had called him. I wondered what he was hiding. Was he just shy, or was there something else going on behind those cautious eyes?

Potter, of course, couldn't leave well enough alone. "Hey,! Moonboy!" he shouted, and the kid practically jumped out of his skin. I leaned forward, intrigued. "What's it about?" I asked, more out of curiosity than anything else. The kid looked surprised, almost hopeful. For a split second, I saw a flicker of something in his eyes – a longing to belong, maybe? It was gone as quickly as it appeared, but it was enough to make me wonder. Maybe this year wouldn't be so bad after all. Maybe, just maybe, I'd found my own little pack of misfits.

As the compartment begins go quiet James perks up again. "So, Black, tell me about yourself," James said, leaning back against the compartment seat with a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Besides the fact that you look like you've escaped from a vampire convention."

Sirius smirked, instantly rising to the challenge. "Well, Potter," he drawled, "besides the fact that you look like you've been attacked by a rogue Snitch, there's not much to tell. I'm a Black, which means I'm rich, pure-blood, and destined for greatness." He delivered the line with a healthy dose of sarcasm, watching James's reaction.

James chuckled, unimpressed. "Rich and pure-blood, huh? Sounds boring. What do your parents do?"

Sirius's smile faltered for a split second. "They... uphold the family traditions," he said vaguely. "What about yours?"

"The Potters," James said with a grin. "They're just... normal. Or as normal as you get being a wizard family Dad works with magical inventions, Mum brews potions for St. Mungo's sometimes. They're a bit mental, always getting into trouble. You'll love them."

Sirius raised an eyebrow. "Normal? Mental? This is a pure-blood family we're talking about, right?"

James shrugged. "Blood status doesn't define you, Black. It's what you do that matters. My parents taught me that. They're not hung up on all that old-fashioned nonsense."

Sirius stared at him, a strange mix of disbelief and envy swirling inside him. "So, they're not going to try and marry you off to some distant cousin to preserve the family line?"

James burst out laughing, seemingly thinking that was some sort of joke. "Merlin, no! They just want me to be happy. Find someone I love, that sort of thing.” His eyes looking out of the compartment as he says this as if hoping someone would walk by.

Sirius looked out the window, watching the passing countryside blur by. He couldn't imagine his parents ever saying anything like that. Love? Happiness? Those words seemed foreign in the cold, calculating world of the Blacks. He glanced back at James, who was now deep in conversation with Peter about Quidditch. Maybe, just maybe, he thought, there was a different way to live. A way where blood status didn't matter, where family didn't dictate your every move, and where happiness was actually a possibility. And maybe, just maybe, James Potter was the key to finding it.