A/N: Well this is my first Harry Potter fic. I'm aware of how many more brilliant fics there are out there but I thought maybe this would be a good idea. Please read and review.

Disclaimer: Honestly, I never understand the point of this. If i was in anyway associated with JKR, do you really think I would be here as opposed to doing everything in my power to get a date with Daniel Radcliffe! Honestly!

Ginevra Molly Potter was considered a beacon of motherhood by all that knew her. Patient, kind, understanding. All her children's friends were jealous of James, Albus and Lily. Not only had Ginny been one of the best Chasers the Holyhead Harpies had ever seen, but she never made up ridiculous strict rules and always seemed to offer sound advice to her children without too much fuss.

But even Ginny Potter had her limits. And lately those limits seemed to be stretched to their utmost by her seventeen-year-old and eldest son, James. All her children had somehow inherited a definitive Weasley trait, even more than one. Lily had her lovely flaming hair and, yes the temper that all Weasley women were known for. (Ginny refused however to acknowledge that this was a bad thing when Harry teased her, instead she defended it as being an admirable trait in an independent young woman.) Albus inherited the Weasleys' inherent sense of family and ability to deal with what seemed like a troop of Cornish pixies all at once. (Albus may look a lot like Harry but he reminded Ginny mostly of her own father). Always calm-headed and always with a solution after a few moments of thought.

Then there was James who had inherited the Weasley love of mischief.

Minerva McGonagall had once told Ginny, quite unhelpfully she could add, that naming your eldest son after the most infamous Marauder was bound to be asking for trouble. Well what was Ginny supposed to do? She had been a young mother, fresh off the success of her Quidditch days, happily married and finally having the baby both she and Harry had longed for... denying Harry from a simple pleasure as naming him after his father seemed absolutely absurd at the time.

But now, as she rubbed her temples, sitting at the kitchen table of her home in Grimmauld Place, she thought that MAYBE Minerva had been right. She should have given things a bit more thought. Damn Minerva and her all-knowing wisdom all the damn ruddy time. Ginny swore that woman could have been Dumbledore's own sister. They were too uncannily alike sometimes.

Ginny heard a crackling sound from behind her and the fireplace burst with brilliant green flames. Just then, her husband, the boy, well man-who-lived who had slain He-Must-Not-Be-Named-Anymore-Just-Cause-He's-Not-Worth-It appeared wearing a small smile, happy to finally be home. "Oh", Ginny thought, "Killing old Voldie is going to be a ride in the park after the wrath I'm about to invoke on him."

Harry got out of the fireplace and pecked Ginny on the cheek. He looked tired and took off his coat. He started rummaging around in the kitchen, "Honey, is there something I can make a sandwich with? My stomach seems to be re-enacting one of those Goblin revolutions Binns was always on about."

Ginny stared at the back of his head, barely acknowledging his words. She had an agenda to discuss, and she'd be damned if goblins got in the way.

"James is home."

Harry stood in front of the cupboard. He didn't need to look at Ginny to understand what her tone meant. He had been married to his wife for a long time now and he understood her intonations better than anyone. The way she said that sentence was almost as if her voice was a bomb timer and it had about five seconds left to go off. Through experience, Harry had learnt that if one of the Potter-Weasleys was about to lose their temper, then the best way for him to remain alive was to stay calm.

He silently gulped and tried to remember where he had stored that famed Gryffindor bravery.

"Oh," He slowly began, "I thought the children decided to spend Christmas at Hogwarts this year."

"Oh, Lily and Albus stuck to that plan." It seemed Ginny was going to draw out the blow-up for as long as possible. "James... not so much. You see YOUR son, has decided to wage war against the portraits in ALL of Hogwarts. He, together with that group of trouble-causing demons, one of which happens to be our very own nephew Fred Weasley II, you know the ones James commonly likes to refer to as his "friends", have decided to go around and introduce a new character in each and every single portrait in Hogwarts."

It took all of Harry's strength not to snigger at that moment. But he valued his life more than his humour.

"Somehow that wouldn't be too bad. Merlin knows those portraits are all bored to death after centuries of looking at walls and hormonal teenagers. But no, your son and his gang of Fizzing Whizbees introduced a character that has absolutely nothing to do with the already present occupant. So, for example, the Fat Lady, guardian of Gryffindor Tower for centuries has been recently introduced to a very horny-looking John Lennon who keeps insisting that they should chant for peace... NAKED. Not to mention all the passwords are now Beatles' songs. That would have been fine and dandy for our parents but not today's teenagers." At this point, Ginny was breathing deeply, trying to remind herself that yes she did love her family, including her eldest son.

Harry approached with extreme caution, "Ooook. I see the problem. That still doesn't really explain why he's home. Especially since he's a seventh year. Seventh years are never sent home for things they've done."

"He wouldn't have been sent home if this was just a one-off incident. And don't pretend like you don't remember all the letters we've been sent by Minerva in his seven years at the ruddy school." And there was Ginny's fuse blown, Harry thought. "Do you remember his very first day at Hogwarts, he hadn't even be sorted yet and he started to levitate all the students' luggage with that damn 'Wingardium Leviosa' Ron had insisted on teaching them. Or in second year when he bewitched all the suits of armour to sing "Gryffindor is the best" anytime someone said any of the other house names. Do you have any idea how many suits of armour there all over the school? Oh but my personal favourite, I really think this was his magnum opus, was when he convinced the house elves that the menu had been changed and they were to serve snake! An Asian delicacy at the start of year banquet. There were first years who were terrified they were going to die at Hogwarts of food poisoning."

"Ginny, sweetheart, calm down," Harry flicked his wand and the kettle started boiling water to make a cup of tea, "The boy's a little..."

"Infuriating, Mind-boggling, Heart-attack inducing, take your pick!"

"I was going to go with troublesome"

Ginny scoffed. "Minerva's afraid of leaving him unsupervised in the Christmas holidays. Many of the teachers have left this year. She herself was hoping to go visit her sister in Wales. She's afraid she'll come back to find the castle pink and fluffy, literally!"

"Wow, hadn't thought of that one Mum. Hogwarts, pink and fluffy. I daresay it would be a challenge but I think I've read about the charm I'd need and Fred has always had a knack for those sorts of things." A tall, lean seventeen year old appeared, leaning on the doorway, with a smirk on his face that could have made a blind hag's heart melt a little bit.

"Hiya Dad. Seems like I'm bunking at Potter Manor this year."

"You're lucky you got sent home. At this rate, I wouldn't blame Minerva if she considered locking you up in the dungeons for a couple of days, maybe you'll come to your senses." Ginny suddenly realised she was sounding a lot like her mother when she used to yell at the twins. Ginny did NOT like sounding like her mother, no matter how much she loved her.

"Oh old Minnie would never do something like that. Locking me up, the whole school would die of boredom within a few hours."

Ginny rubbed her temples for the last time before huffing and getting up, "I've given up. Harry you give it a try. I'm going to have a bath and I'm putting a Silencing Charm so don't bother with coming to me for anymore advice." As she made her way out of the kitchen she looked at her eldest son who hadn't budged from the doorway, "Sometimes I honestly think you're your uncle Fred reincarnated." And as she made her way up the stairs she could be heard mumbling that a shrine should be built to her mother for putting up with the twins.

Harry, who was sitting with his arms holding up his chin, made a silent gesture with his eyes for James to sit down and James immediately obliged. It was strange how Harry invoked so much power with simple gestures. Harry had always coughed it up to him being the parents. Harry may only have rarely raised his voice at his children, but all three of them knew that when he did, they were in for a brutal awakening. So they had learnt to avoid that altogether as possible. Their mother on the other hand might raise her voice more often but they knew she never really meant any harm. Her volume had a lot more to do with growing up with so many brothers and becoming naturally boisterous.

Harry stared intently at his son. He always wondered why it was his first born that looked the least like either of his parents. Albus was, without any doubt, and very famously the spitting image of Harry. Lily fit in perfectly to the Weasley part of her heritage. But James was a wonderful mixture of both sides of the gene pools. Standing a good few inches taller than his father, and only seemingly growing every time he came home from Hogwarts, James had brown hair. Not the jet black of his father, nor the vivid red of his mother. Funnily enough, his hair resembled Hermione's except it was only slightly wild. He had deep blue eyes which he obviously inherited form the same place Ron had inherited his. In fact, whenever James was out with Ron, strangers often mistook them as father and son. As regards to personality, he definitely had the brains of his grandmother Lily but the fun-loving humour of both his grandfather that gave him his namesake and the Weasleys.

So it was understandable that Harry somehow felt lost when it came to James. That was, however, until he remembered the one fundamental characteristic that James held that he had definitely inherited from Harry, his grounded approach to life. Yes, James had his moments where he was impossible to control. He even often made seemingly pompous remarks of how charming and attractive he was. But that's all they were, jokes and pranks. He was not a big-headed boy and never had been. He stuck firm to his beliefs and never wavered. Lily and Albus both had had their insecure moments and even moments where they were tempted to sway, especially in their first years of Hogwarts. But James had never really put a serious toe out of line. He had never bullied anyone, his jokes and pranks were always laughed at by everyone even the teachers who had to clean up the mess.

In fact, his grounded character was part of the reason why Harry didn't make too much of a fuss. He knew that James would never do any real irreparable damage. However his mother did not see things in the same light, even though he recalled that Ginny had aimed her fair share of Bat Bogey hexes. However, he knew what Ginny was afraid of and why he secretly thought Minerva wanted James at home with family.

Lately, James had been letting his grades slip. He wasn't participating as much as he used to in class, even though he was usually one of the brightest, if not the brightest in the year. And everyone who cared for him was secretly afraid that these pranks, which were normally simple distractions, were slowly taking over his whole attention.

The beginning of it had been felt at the end of sixth year when he had caught his then girlfriend Melinda Parkinson (yes you guessed it, niece of Pansy Parkinson) snogging another Hufflepuff. They hadn't been very discreet about it, in fact James had found out together with about another quarter of the school. Melinda had bumbled through a seemingly forced apology; one that he suspected was not even remotely heartfelt. She knew he would catch her and he realised she had chosen that method because she was too much of a coward to break up with him the proper way.

However, even taking her flaws into consideration and all his friends assuring him that it was her loss and that was a lousy trick on her part, it had still hurt. Melinda had been the first real girlfriend James had ever had. He had never really paid attention to girls in that way before, preferring to have as many friends as possible, some of them even girls. So when he had finally decided to dedicate a certain amount of time to one girl, it had been very nerve-wracking. And needless to say it hadn't turned out as well as he'd hoped.

Harry was perfectly aware of this. Harry was the only adult in fact aware of this. James had trusted him with all the details, asking him to not share this with Ginny for the simple reason that he didn't want his mother showing up, threatening to kill Melinda for hurting her little baby boy. Besides, James had always found it easier to talk to his father.

They sat in silence for a while. Harry slowly got up to get his tea and drank it quietly while James kept looking between his hands and his father. He knew that his father was probably not going to yell at him, but Harry wasn't usually the silent type so James didn't really know what to expect.

Harry sat down next to his son and began, "James, I know this is just a bad patch. I think even you secretly know it, even though it may not feel like that right now. But son, you can't let one bad occurrence ruin you. I thought your mother and I raised you never to give up on what you want. And surely you don't want your grades to slip in your last year of Hogwarts, not after you've been doing so well, you've been giving your aunt Hermione a good run for her reputation."

With that, James slowly smiled at his father, "I'll try dad. I'll honestly try."

Harry gave him a reassuring smile and patted him on the back. "Now if you don't mind, there's an upset redhead upstairs who happens to be the woman I love. So forgive me if I feel a little obliged to check up on her."

"I'm sorry dad... if I caused any trouble between you and mum."

"It's ok son. Your mother can never stay upset at me for too long." And with a wink that made Harry look like he was the teenager, he dashed off.

James inwardly cringed at the inevitable implication made by his father's remark. Sometimes James and his siblings wished that their parents weren't as open with certain things. But who was he trying to fool, he knew how rare their kind of love was and he wasn't immature enough to not appreciate that.

He made his way up to his room. The room which had been his very own ever since he had been a child was covered in Chudley Cannons posters (yet another thing that he got along with his Uncle Ron about). Being the seventeen year old boy that he was, there were a couple of photos of girls hung on the walls, most notably a winking calendar of the new line-up of the Holyhead Harpies. Magazines, music albums and a few spell books were strewn on the floor. He plonked himself onto the bed and stared up at the ceiling, thinking.

"You know seeing a Potter inactive and just staring is not something I'm entirely accustomed to."

James' head shot up. He wasn't expecting that particular voice to interrupt his thoughts but somehow he thought there was no one better that could offer some helpful advice.

"Sirius," James greeted with a huge grin, "What brings you over Padfoot?"

"Oh nothing just came over to check on my favourite grand-god-son." Sirius scrunched up his forehead, trying to figure if that sounded right, but then shrugged, thinking he liked it anyway.

James chuckled, "Don't let Albus hear you say that. Or dad for that matter."

Sirius winked at him, knowing that James knew what he meant by it.

James sat down at the edge of his bed, looking at one his favourite family members. "What's been going on? I haven't seen you in a while. You're always in your portrait at the Ministry."

"Oh this and that," Sirius waved his hand, nonchalantly, "Nothing but boring everyday stuff. Sometimes I miss the fighting days." He paced in his portrait, his black cloak billowing behind him. The scene in his portrait held a singular willow tree at the side and a lot of greenery behind him. However it had been painted in the night-time, as the half moon clearly showed.

James always thought the story of how the two portraits that existed of Sirius came about was extremely interesting. When, in Harry's fourth year, Sirius had been on the run, he had once been wandering around in his Animagus form and stopped and sat staring at the moon, thinking. Little did he know that a magical artist had been so taken with how pensive the dog looked at the moon, that he had drawn him from behind. Of course, when it was finished, it had retained all the properties of a magical portrait that the artist had given it. The following morning, Sirius had been passing by the very same spot (this time in his human form – it had been relatively safe, few people knew of him in that area) and he recognized the painting and quickly bought it, knowing that it would be perfect in the eventuality that he died.

After the war was over, the Ministry, Shacklebolt specifically, had insisted that the most prominent members of the Order of the Phoenix have their portraits hung in the Ministry, if there existed any of them. So, naturally when one of Sirius had been found, it was hung in the Ministry and placed in Harry's office when he became Head of the Auror office. Sirius was actually a very shrewd and craft mind, making him perfect to help in the Department of Law Enforcement. He was rather well-known for giving out good advice. When someone complemented him, he would merely reply that he was a Marauder after all.

However, the original portrait that had been taken in his Animagus form had been placed in his room at Grimmauld Place which later became James' room. There was a very a particular reason why James was proud that he had a portrait of Sirius in his room. That was the only place Sirius could transform into his Animagus form because the magical power had only been retained in that portrait.

So Sirius would often come in and after getting updated with what was going on with James and the family, he would turn into a shaggy black dog and be off to whatever portrait he ventured in his animal form. James could have sworn he once saw a shaggy black dog that looked like Sirius, playing poker with other dogs in a painting at a friend's house.

"What about you, mini-Potter? How are things at home away from home?"

"Hogwarts is good. That snake delicacy idea you proposed worked like a charm. You were right; talking to Dobby first was the best way to do it. He's become Head House-Elf since when Mum and Dad were at the school."

Sirius' eyes glinted in the moonlight given off in the portrait. He looked ten years younger with the grin that was suddenly visible on his face. He almost looked like a seventeen-year-old.

"What about the other thing?"

James listened intently for the sound of his parents' voices but he couldn't hear anything.

"You mean the furry little endeavour, and by that I don't mean I was bitten by a werewolf."

"Well, let's hope not."

At that moment, Remus Lupin showed up into the portrait, looking as serious as ever, yet years of peaceful portrait-living had done the man good. The Remus in portraits spent most of his time at one of the portraits at his son Teddy's house and switching between frames his wife or Sirius happened to be in.

Not to mention, he had found a very interesting way of how to undo his own 'furry little problem'. Whenever there was a full moon, he had discovered that if he stuck to a portrait that clearly depicted sunshine he wouldn't turn into a werewolf. He would still feel slightly ill but everything was better than transforming fully. That meant that somehow Remus had actually begun to look better while hanging up on a wall.

"Remus, old boy, glad you could make it. Just like old times, huh? James Potter, Sirius Black and Remus Lupin." Sirius clapped a firm hand on Remus' back. All three noticed the distinct lack of mentioning Peter, but Remus and Sirius had silently agreed not to mention him if possible.

"Has it completely escaped your attention that we are far older than this specific James Potter?" Remus secretly enjoyed these frivolous verbal disputes with Sirius; he just wouldn't let Sirius easily win them.

"Merlin's spotted underwear, Remus. It's all the same. You're only as young as you feel, as I always say. And James here has been destined for Marauder greatness ever since I saw him steal his first box of Bertie Botts' Every Flavoured Beans. Did I mention his mother had just expressly forbade him from having more sweets? I'm so proud of our little Prongs Junior."

"Nice to see you're still as delusional as when we were his age Sirius." But Remus couldn't hide the snigger in his voice.

James was absolutely riveted by the exchange between them. He had always loved how Sirius and Remus easily played off each other. It made him even sadder that they couldn't be with him in the flesh.

"I am not delusional Moony. My love of mischief just overshadows all my other personality traits."

"Whatever keeps you happy, Sirius. Whatever keeps you happy." Remus replied, giving a sideways glance to James, "but back to your furry little endeavour."

James's eyes shifted. He knew Remus didn't entirely approve of what James was doing. But seeing as his friends had all turned into Animagi for him, Remus had been backed into a corner by Sirius and even Tonks when he protested. What Remus disapproved of most though was that James hadn't told his parents yet.

"That's right," Sirius exclaimed, "how far along are you?"

James looked hesitant but then decided to just come out with it, "I managed. Last week. At my own free will. No incantations, spells, potions. Nothing. Just pure willpower."

Sirius gave a whoop of joy, "Did you hear that Remus? He did it. I always knew he would. If I could I would ruffle up his hair just like we used to do to James Senior right now. He did it Moony." Nothing could describe Sirius' wide grin, except calling it the grin of a proud parent.

Even Remus couldn't help but look at him fondly, "And..."

"A Labrador. A golden one."

Remus nodded approvingly, "A fine animal, I have to say."

"A fine animal he says," Sirius scoffed, "That's bloody brilliant. Come on."

"What now?!" James exclaimed.

"No, when my mother decides to reinstate me in the family tree. Yes now!"

James tried to put up a fight, afraid his parents would suddenly walk in, but in the end the wish to show someone won. He hadn't showed any of his friends. He stood up, closed his eyes and concentrated. Within seconds, his nose grew slightly longer and he seemed to be diminishing in size, right before golden hair sprouted all over his body.

"Wow." Both Sirius and Remus couldn't help but gape slightly at the sight before them. James had turned into what could possibly be described as the most perfect dog they had ever seen. Lean and with fur that seemed immaculate, it shined as though it was gold bullion.

The dog stared at them with the same eyes that belonged to James and then slowly became taller and taller until they could see James in front of them once again.

"So what do you think?"

Sirius and pretty soon Remus burst into applause. "Absolute kudos, Prongsy Junior. Sheer brilliance."

Suddenly, Remus stopped and looked at his best friend, "You can't call him Prongs anymore. It doesn't make sense."

Sirius immediately stopped clapping and seemed pensive. "You're right Moony old boy! Well it seems that young James here deserves a new nickname. That way he'll officially be a Marauder."

Remus immediately sensing what was about to come and knowing how seriously Sirius took such things as namesakes, he muttered, "Oh Merlin, here we go."

Sirius started pacing up and down, scratching his scruffy beard, "Goldie," he looked up and saw James disapproving, "No. Something that has to do with the gold aspect. I swear if he were a real block of gold, he'd be a millionaire. Wait that's it. Not gold, the money value. How about 'Loot'?"

"Loot?" Remus and James both asked together, eyebrows raised.

"I remember my grandfather using it to describe a lot of money's worth. It's perfect. What do you think Moony?"

Remus looked between Sirius and James and finally smiled, silently agreeing that there would be no more protests on his part. "Messrs. Prongs, Padfoot, Moony and Loot are proud to present... yes I rather like the sound of that. It can only get better when James teaches Albus how to become an Animagus."

James nodded. Somehow, Remus thought he had already started working on that.

"Well then it's settled," Sirius laughed, "James, come here."

James approached the frame, slightly weary of what Sirius could possibly be up to now.

"Bow your head slightly."

"Sirius..." Remus began.

"Trust me Moony. Come on Prongsy... I am going to miss calling you that."

"You can still call me Junior. I am still James Potter II." James was actually rather fond of the term of endearment and Sirius proudly grinned.

James bowed his head and Sirius picked up a random stick from where he was standing, "By the honourable Marauder powers invested in me, I now pronounce you Sir Marauder Loot." He actually managed to keep a straight face while saying that, while the other burst out laughing.

Remus shook his head, admiring Sirius for going through Azkaban yet retaining his love of humour.

After James had stopped laughing, Remus suggested that it was time for Sirius and him to go. Sirius grudgingly relinquished, agreeing that yes the boy needed his sleep. However, Sirius was sad to leave, seeing as he'd had more fun than he'd had in a while.

"You can come to visit. I'm going to be here in the Christmas holidays." James offered.

Before leaving, Remus decided to give James one final piece of advice, "Oh and James. I wouldn't let one little mishap in love get you down too much. It happens to the best of us. Merlin knows it happened to your grandfather more times than anyone is able to count."

"Yes Lootie, nothing's worth your good reputation slipping." Sirius offered.

"How did you know about that?" James asked surprised.

"Your father is very worried about you. So he asked for a bit of advice. He likes to come for advice about you to us. He somehow knows that you're very much like his father so who better than the people who actually lived with James at Hogwarts," Remus explained.

Sirius looked pensively at Remus and then lit up, "What you need is a lovely, nice girl to take your mind off the other one? There has to be someone that tickles the fancy of James Potter eh?" Sirius asked suggestively.

James switched his footing and quietly said, "Well there is this one girl."

"Mm hm," Sirius smiled knowingly, "And what's she like?"

"Well she's got red hair that makes her look absolutely fantastic."

Sirius raised his hand, "Stop right there. I'm already being over-flooded with a sense of déjà vu. Say no, more please. I've had to live through one James Potter's obsession with a red-head. If you're anything like your grandfather, and we all know you are, talk to her, hell annoy her senseless, worked for your old, old man."

"Yeah well the problem is she's not too keen on me." James offered a little shyly.

Remus let out a laugh, "Sirius we just have to accept that we are stuck in a time loop. Either that or the gods have a very specific sense of humour when it comes to the Potters and the women in their lives."

Sirius rolled his eyes, "James, listen to me. Because I've had it up to here with you Potters and your love-sick tendencies. Talk to her like a gentleman. She'll like it. God knows why but she will. Don't levitate any of her friends, past or present?"

James quirked an eyebrow at this. "Why would I do that?"

"Never mind. Just don't. She'll be yours in no time and you'll be very happy and hopefully I can understand why Remus and I find ourselves in this position... yet again. Good night Loot."

As they were leaving the portrait, Remus threw him a reassuring smile and Sirius one final wink.

James sighed, thoughts running through his mind. He opened the door to his bedroom and made his way to his parents' room. It seemed quiet. They were either asleep or they were still up reading as they were often apt to do. He knocked and heard his mother's soft voice saying "Come in."

"Mum. Dad. There's something I need to share with you."