Summary: The boys are back! And ready to rule the roost! They've got Quidditch to play, pranks to pull off, and passageways to explore. And then there's the rapidly evolving rivalry with Snivellus. Oh, what a year they'll have!

The Messer Chronicles

This Most Joyous Year

Life if so constructed, that the event does not, cannot, will not match the expectation

~Charlotte Bronte

Chapter One

This Way Comes

Every new beginning comes from some other beginnings end

~Seneca

James stood high in the stands, watching his favourite team, Puddlemere United, absolutely trounce their opponents, the Chudley Cannons. He was almost bouncing from the feeling of absolute joy that bubbled up inside him at a result of the game. Beside him, his equally enthusiastic father yelled and cheered as each goal, each Quaffle passed the Keeper, only increased Puddlemere's lead. James couldn't help the wide smile that crossed his face.

This was a Potter family tradition. At least once a year, James and his father would attend a Puddlemere United Quidditch game. It didn't matter what else was going on in their lives, the pair would go to at least one game, if not more. James had first learned the rules and intricacies of the game as a tot at one such game; his father had patiently explained the rules, the basics of the game play, and the role of each position. Then, over the years of attending matches, Fleamont had begun pointing out more and more detailed and complicated aspects of the game. James learned about well-known moves and plays, about particular players' quirks and habits. Through their yearly excursions to watch the best of British Quidditch, James had learned all about the great game and developed a great passion. Each and every year, James looked forward to the game with his father with nearly incontainable excitement.

All in all, James' summer had been excellent. Sure, there'd been some homework, mostly reading as underaged wizards were not allowed to perform magic outside of school, but James figured he could get by with simply skimming the material. That's what he'd done through most of his first year at Hogwarts. Instead, he filled his days with backyard Quidditch practice to hone his skills; he was going to make the Gryffindor team this year! In fact, he told himself, he would have made the team last year if there'd been a spot for him.

It was with images of himself leading the Gryffindors to victory. That James left the Quidditch stadium with his father. The stadium had been disguised as an overgrown pitch for some muggle sport called football so as to keep the muggle population away from it. During games, the magical population had to exit in small waves so as not to draw too much attention. Though, on that particular day, James wasn't sure that the small groups were being all that effective.

Puddlemere had absolutely decimated Chudley, leaving the United fans in a raucous, celebratory mood and the Cannon fans in an absolutely foul mood. It was an atmosphere conducive to attention drawing behaviour, whether it was the enthusiastic revelry of some, or the small brawls that broke between opposing fans.

Fleamont Potter hurried his son along, away from the stadium and towards one of the designated portkey locations. James wished he could have stayed and joined in with the commotion that was building, whether celebrating or fighting, the messy haired boy didn't really care. His father knew this fact very well and was not about to let James get wrapped up in any of it.

When they arrived at the portkey, an empty shopping bag tethered by a rock to keep it from blowing away, there were only two other wizards there. A newspaper, the latest edition of the Daily Prophet, was open before them and they were discussing one of the articles in hushed tones.

"Another disappearance?"

"Fourth one this year! The ministry's been pretty hush-hush about it all, but I'm sure there's a connection! All the people who've gone missing were muggle born after all." The two men continued whispering about an old man from Essex who'd vanished a few days before, but James tuned them out. Unless it was about Quidditch, James couldn't care less about the news. Instead, he sat down and began composing a letter to his friends, Sirius Black, Remus Lupin, and Peter Pettigrew.

The four had all been sorted into Gryffindor the year before and quickly became friends. Over the summer, because of the distances between their houses, the four had agrees to keep in touch through letters. James, excited about his yearly Quidditch match, had promised his friends a play by play of the match.

James,

I'm glad to hear that your summer had been absolutely smashing. Quidditch all day, every day would be the absolute best! Of course, you do need the extra practice, especially if you want to keep up with me! If you keep up your practicing, then one of us will definitely make the Gryffindor team!

I still can't believe you got to see Puddlemere absolutely trounce Chudley! I would have loved to see it! Some people are saying it might be the largest margin of victory in British Quidditch history! My contraband wireless was just not cutting it. You'll have to give me all the details the next time we meet. Your letter was just not enough. And maybe one year, I'll actually get to go to a live professional Quidditch match. Hogwarts' matches are pretty cool (though hopefully less tampered this year) but watching the real thing in person would just be the absolute best! When do you think the World Cup will be in England next? Hopefully soon!

My summer is shaping up to be quite reminiscent of a Strinkley lecture. Mum's still not talking to me (which isn't really all that bad), but she's started providing me with food again. I had to point out that it wouldn't really reflect well on her maternal skills if one of her sons died of starvation before she agreed to it, but I can once again freely access the pantry and whatnot. And to think, all this because I dared to be sorted into this horrid Gryffindor house!

Oh well, only 44 days until the Hogwarts Express departs and I'm rid of the lot of them. Well, except Reg, but he's a little more bearable.

Sincerely,

Sirius

"Mum!" James called, rushing into the kitchen, a piece of parchment grasped tightly in his hand. His face was flushed and his heart was beating quickly, but not from the effort of running from the sitting room. He was upset and angry; the latest letter from Sirius had been particular distressing.

"Mum!" James called again, rounding the entryway into the kitchen. He found Euphemia Potter standing behind a large cooking island, a thick book open in front of her. James instantly recognized it as her baked goods recipe book. For a split second, James was distracted by the fact that she was most likely preparing something absolutely delicious.

"Yes, Jamie? What is it?" Euphemia asked, concerned by her son's tone of voice. At her words, James returned his focus to his task. He clutched the piece of parchment tighter and prepared himself for the execution of his self-assigned duty.

"Mum, Sirius is having an absolutely terrible summer! He doesn't get along very well with his family. His parents aren't really kind or loving. It's gotten so bad that for a while, his mum was barely feeding him!" At James' words, Euphemia's hands shot up to her heart and mouth. Her expression quickly clouded with motherly concern. It didn't matter if it was her child or not; whenever she learned of a child's mistreatment she was instantly a protective mother bear.

"That's absolutely terrible!" she exclaimed. James relaxed a little, certain that he had hooked his mother. Now to reel in the line.

"Yes it is! So I was wondering, if it was okay with his parents, if Sirius could come and spend time here. You know, get some proper meals and get away from his parents for a little." As he made his request, James made sure he gave his mum the biggest puppy dog eyes he could manage.

Euphemia was quiet for a few seconds before she responded, "Of course, Jamie! As long as it's okay with his mum and dad. He can come as soon as he wants and stay for as long as he wants. Your father and I could even make sure he, and you of course, get onto the train for school." Her concern for Sirius' wellbeing had meant she was willing to almost offer the sun, anything she could do to make sure the young boy was cared for.

"Excellent," James called, racing out of the room, "I'll go write to him to invite him right away!"

It took a fair amount of discussion and persuasion, but Sirius eventually convinced his parents to let him spend the final two weeks of summer at the Potters. James suspected, the Blacks were probably just as excited to be away from Sirius as he was from them. It was easier to pretend they didn't have a Gryffindor son if Sirius wasn't at home with them.

In the weeks between James' invitation and Sirius' arrival, the messy haired boy had meticulously planned out things he wanted to do with Sirius. There was, of course, backyard Quidditch games in preparation for Gryffindor try outs in a few months' time. Then, there was visiting Godric's Hallow, showing Sirius the sights, both magical and muggle, and even possibly a few harmless, non-magical pranks on some of the unsuspecting villagers. All in all, James had planned a pretty excellent last two weeks of summer.

Now, all that was left was for Sirius to show up so they could begin it all.

On the morning of Sirius' arrival, James sat at the breakfast table with his parents. Fleamont was situated behind his paper, occasionally sharing pieces of news with his wife. James was feeling anxious about his friend's arrival and wasn't paying his parents much attention.

"It's just getting worse, Phem. Even more disappearances, and the Clarks were all hexed with an innocent looking package." Fleamont had an obviously concerned tone of voice and kept shooting his son furtive glances.

"I hope they find the person or people responsible for it soon. Otherwise, it may be unsafe to even go outside. Jamie, are you feeling okay?" Euphemia turned from her husband to her son. James had only been picking at his breakfast and had instantly drawn his mum's concerned gaze.

"I'm fine. Just too excited to eat," James responded. He stabbed a sausage and ate it to try and ease some of his mum's worry.

"Well, I'll just make an extra big lunch. I'm sure the two of you will be starving by that time," Mrs. Potter spoke, comforting herself with the prospect of stuffing her son and his friend at lunch.

The Potters then returned to their relatively quiet breakfast, each member lost in their own thoughts. As a result, they all jumped when a bang sounded from the sitting room. James then leapt up and raced in the direction of the sound. Standing in the Potter's elegant fireplace, a little sooty and definitely thinner, was none other than Sirius Black.

His hair was shorter, now only reaching the bottoms of his ears as opposed to his chin. His face looked sunken, yet still appeared very handsome. And his dark eyes still shimmered with mischievousness.

"James! How are you?" Sirius asked enthusiastically, carefully exiting the fireplace and moving to greet James.

"Excellent! Mum's made enough breakfast for eight. Want some real food?"

Sirius and James walked through the small town, determined looks on their face. They came to rest in the center of town, a large open area surrounded by small shops and dominated by an aged stone church. A few other people milled around the area, running errands and other tasks. No one paid the boys much attention.

"Okay," Sirius asked, turning to James, "What's the plan?" James looked smugly at his friend before turning back to the church.

"We get into the church; it's always open so that shouldn't be too much of an issue. Then we climb to the top of the bell tower," James followed the steeple of the church up to the top with his finger as he spoke. "Once up at the top, we regale the rest of the inhabitants of Godric's Hallow with the Screaming Banshee's song For the Benefit of Mr. Snitch. It'll be fantastic!"

Sirius also looked up at the bell tower of the church. The song, a fairly recent rock song with some rather odd lyrics, was one of James' favourites. Sirius carefully took in the idea. It sounded like it could be a laugh riot, a wizarding song blaring out from the bell tower of a muggle church. However, he was a little apprehensive about the execution. They didn't have their wands and this whole escapade would have been a hell of a lot easier, and possibly safer, if they could do it with magic.

But Sirius was not going to let that stop him. He was undaunted by the task at hand and would risk his neck for a good joke. He turned and smiled at his friend, motioning towards the church.

"After you."

The main area of the church was empty. It was a Tuesday afternoon, not exactly prime church going time, so the pair was able to move through the space fairly easily. Access to the bell tower was through a door labelled 'staff only.' James carefully tried the knob, but it was locked.

"Now what?" Sirius whispered. Normally, he would have whipped out his wand and cast an alohamora charm, or another unlocking spell. Having not been exposed to the muggle world all that much, he wasn't entirely sure what the next step was. In the spy books and radio stories that he knew about, when presented with a locked door, the muggle spy would pick the lock. But Sirius didn't know what that meant or how to do it.

James had a twinkle in his eye that gave Sirius a spark of hope. The messy haired boy then pulled out something small and metal. Sirius had never seen it before, but had to believe it would be helpful.

"I've watched the muggle kids unlock doors with this countless times. A few days ago, I approached one and asked him how to do it. Apparently it's called lock picking. It's quite ingenious what muggles have come up with to get by without magic!" Sirius' eyes sparkles. James knew how to pick locks!

The messy haired boy turned to the door and inserted the small metal object, a lock pick, into the keyhole of the door. He moved it around a little, a look of concentration etched on his face. Then, after a few seconds, a soft click sounded. Sirius tried the door and it opened.

"Ta da!" James commented, a sly smile on his face. At their small moment of success, Sirius couldn't help but celebrating with a little jig. "After you," James continued, echoing Sirius' words from earlier. Sirius walked through the door and began climbing the stairs found there. James was right on his heels. As the boys climbed higher and higher, the stairs got thinner and thinner. They were in better shape than Sirius had been imagining, so their climb wasn't too perilous, but the bell tower was fairly tall. It took the boys a lot of time, about half an hour, and a decent amount of effort to finally get to the top. By the time they reached the bells, Sirius was dripping in sweat and his legs felt so weak he worried he might collapse.

"Okay, we made it. Now, do you know how to work those things? Can you play the song?" Sirius slid down one of the walls of the tower, no longer really able to stand. James eyed the bells warily, making Sirius think he hadn't quite thought the whole thing through. Then Sirius spotted a mischievous glint in his friend's eyes and any doubt Sirius had vanished.

"I've got no idea! But I figure just making a racket will be satisfactory enough. What do you think?"

A loud clashing of bells suddenly broke the quite of the day. The few pigeons that had been roosting on the roof of the church and some nearby buildings took flight at the noise. The people who had been milling around in the square below turned to look up at the bells, some simply shaking their heads while others muttered under their breath about 'those troublemaking kids.'

James and Sirius quickly collapsed to the floor, laughter nearly incapacitating them.