Second Year
Dungbombs and ladies’ underwear were the “atmospheric accents” of choice on the Hogwarts train in September of 1972. Dungbombs, a classic among rebellious students, were ignored by most of the children—however, the unmentionables miraculously removing themselves from the trunks of their respective owners served to usher in an era where the Marauders, as they came to be known, reigned supreme. This event, while memorable in and of itself, would have a still more important outcome: it earned the insolent foursome their name.
During detention for this particular trick, aging caretaker Apollyon Pringle, a fan of some rather medieval disciplinary methods, acquired a deep loathing for the boys. While preparing to string up some poor fourth-year vagabond so that he could “really see the floor he was supposed to be cleaning,” Pringle suddenly felt a chill run up his spine. Thinking perhaps the headmaster, a sniveling kindly fool in his opinion, had stopped by to ensure he was using appropriately “humane” methods— Old Polly (as the boys called him) would have choked on the very word— Pringle whipped around, preparing his best grimace and placation, but—nothing. Too much nothing.
Greasy hair flew as he looked wildly about for his charges. He nearly stumbled forward with the sudden wind at his back, tripping over his nasty overcoat as he spun, prepared to take out whatever child was moving so quickly in his detention. He stopped abruptly. The five boys [A/N not sure why this says five... I'm assuming I included the older student being punished in the number] sitting atop the trophy cabinet stifled laughter as his already swarthy face slowly turned lavender, then puce. Finally James couldn’t contain himself and out slipped a muffled “I reckon he might’ve blown a blood vessel or ten, mates!”
Pringle was stopped from using cruel and unusual punishment on a fellow wrongdoer by the boys, prompting him to call them “meddlesome marauding maggots.”
“Meddlesome? Maggots?! Oi!”
“What does marauding mean?”
“Can you really blame him?”
“I don’t mind the sound of that, really. Nice bit of alliteration. And Marauding has a nice ring to it, don’t you think, mates? Like the Musketeers… Marauders.”
“The bloody what?”
“I still don’t know what marauding means!”
“Dumas, James? How cultured.”
On Saturday the 23rd, the first full moon, James wakes up the others. They discuss how Remus is "ill" so often. Sirius mentions that he has a theory, but says it’s mad.
“If it’s true, then I need to have a serious discussion about misconceptions with whoever wrote the book about magical afflictions in the library.”
“You’ve been to the library, mate?”
James is made a reserve chaser on the Quidditch team, after a tryout in which one of the current Chasers resorted to shoving him off his broom to stop him from scoring. The Captain, a Keeper, tells James that despite his talent, he’s having him practice with them, allow him to grow and learn a little.
“I need a Chaser who can stay on his broom, Potter. You’ll grow into it soon enough.”
In mid-January, the Chaser that knocked James off his broom at the tryouts is kicked off the team for excessive use of force. James is bumped up to a full player, and Gryffindor pulls ahead from a losing streak to win the cup.
In February, as the Marauders’ fame grows, helped along by their new name, that a few worshipful firsties were more than happy to spread, those who used to be known are growing resentful- not to mention the fact that girls, even those in the years above, are showing interest in the talented fiends.
On the last day of school, James, Sirius, and Peter are discussing, in feverish whispers, how they could help Remus with his lycanthropy, having confronted him about it in December. They had been researching it all year, and now they had decided in earnest to try to help. At the start of the conversation, other students were around, but James wanted to talk without Remus, so he began, trying in vain to get the others to understand what he wanted.
Finally, in frustration, he said, “Oh, you know, his- furry little problem.” This garnered a strange look from an older girl, who rolled her eyes at James’ grin. Comprehension dawned, amusement on its tail. The rest of the conversation, his “furry little problem” was referred to in those terms whenever possible. And so a legend was born.
Summer. Severus is not thrilled to be back at home, but he endures happily enough— it means seeing Lily every day. Early in the summer, Severus’ father, not happy having his tween son underfoot, is grumbling about Sev’s presence when he slams shut a door without looking— directly into Severus’ face. Severus immediately rushes down to the Evans’, where Lily greets him with an excitement that quickly turns to shock. When he explains what happened, Lily is furious, ranting and raving about police and abuse, her hair sparking and crackling. Severus tells her to calm down, says that it was an accident.
“One too many,” Lily grumbles, but lets it go. Severus confides that he considered hexing his father even though they aren’t allowed to do magic out of school. Lily is curious, and when she asks him what jinx, he asks if she can keep a secret. She raises her eyebrows at him and he concedes, a small smile appearing on his sallow face, his swollen nose showing what would become perhaps his most distinctive and derided feature.
He tells her about creating a toenail growing hex, and she’s fascinated by the idea. They spend the summer creating ideas for spells. Lily has a talent for Latin, but isn’t quite as fervent about the idea of finding the words for maximum effectiveness as Severus, and, with no opportunity to test success, prefers to create one fanciful charm after another.
Petunia has her first boyfriend, and Lily, in typical little sibling fashion, is disgusted. One evening, they’ve had a picnic dinner and are sitting under their tree on the bank of the trashy river, when she complains to Severus about their laughing and cooing and how the other day, she thought she actually heard them snogging! They have a good laugh about it and lie in comfortable silence, Severus turning to look at her periodically. Eventually he realizes she’s fallen asleep.
It’s nearly dark and he’s starting to wake her when the sounds of a giggling couple sound from the other bank. The pair stumbles into his line of sight, hands linked and faces close together. [A/N: I'm not sure if I intended this couple to be Petunia and her boyfriend or not... thoughts?] Severus looks down at his and Lily’s joined hands, a strange expression on his face, but is startled out of his reverie by a moan from across the river.
His cheeks flushing, he glares in their general direction. He imagines that he could somehow block out the world, so they could have their peace and quiet. Lily begins to wake, so he busies himself packing their things. As she takes her baskets, she raises her hand to stifle a yawn, sparking an idea. As she meanders back on the path, he glances back at the other riverbank, mouthing “Muffliato” and swishing his imaginary wand through the air. Lily calls for him and he goes happily, content with his lot.