Doctor's Note: I love the Marauders, and it was about time I made a real effort to write them! I'm not sure how long this story will go on for-I'm quite busy and not sure where exactly it should end. But please enjoy and leave a review! I would love any feedback/criticism (Or praise, of course. ;) ). -Dr. Mini Pie

Warnings: A few very mild swearwords.

James Potter dove sharply to avoid a collision with the little missile of a bird. He recovered in a moment, hunching over his broomstick in defence. James was no stranger to such airbourne encounters—especially out here in the country at his family's summer villa. Ruddy hazards, with their beaks and talons. Way worse than Bludgers.

James squinted through his glasses and watched the unfased bird—an owl—turn in a graceful arc to reengage. Just before the owl swooped again, James spotted the envelopes bound to its ankle and suddenly recognised it.

"Gabriel!" he shouted over the high-altitude gusts. "Merlin's beard! If you've got a letter for me, just say so! Ho—"

James bent into a nose-dive, zooming straight down as close to terminal velocity as he could manage—challenging Gabriel to keep up. Gabriel did, looking almost bored; the pair reached the grounds of the villa as one and pulled into a neat landing.

"Right, hand it over, Gabe," said James, yanking off his dragonhide gloves with a grin. "Wicked dive, by the way."

Gabriel perched on the head of James'ss broomstick and offered his leg. James found his letter and out of curiosity began to rifle through the rest, but Gabriel hissed and ruffled his feathers. Swearing, James withdrew his hand.

"Cursed bird!"

"James? Are you alright?" It was his father calling from the porch. "We saw your dive from the window. Good heavens, was that bird assaulting you?"

"M'alright!" shouted James. "Yeah, it's one of my mates' owls! He's fond of assaulting me. Ouch!"

Gabriel had bitten his ear. James staggered off his broom and shooed the owl away.

"Geroff! You've got more letters to unleash upon some poor souls—off with you, then!"

Gabriel didn't need telling twice—the fierce little owl was already far afield.

James turned his letter over in his hand. It was delivered by Remus's owl, alright, but not addressed in Remus's handwriting. Intrigued, James shook open the envelope. An odd, thin piece of parchment slid out. It was not handwritten, rather printed in a bizarre typeset.

"Come inside and have tea with us, won't you," called James's father. "You've been out there all day."

"Yeah, alright!"

He read as he strode toward the house, his broom over his shoulder.

Gabriel cleared the next leg of his journey in under two hours. Regrettably, no one was home. The owl alighted upon one of the worn-down gateposts which surrounded the cramped suburban yard.

Gabriel's already impatient wait was further aggravated by a sudden bombardment of local songbirds. Defending their nearby nests, no doubt. Gabriel glowered as the birds screeched and clawed and flapped about in hysteria. He was about to make an example of one of the sparrows when a short and rather plump teen-aged boy came dashing up the pavement.

"Oh, silly me!" cried Peter Pettigrew, waving his arms to scatter the songbirds. "I forgot to leave open the owl door!"

Gabriel shook out his feathers and extended a perfunctory foot. Peter didn't notice.

"You're Remus's owl, right?" he asked the bird. "The one who hates everyone except Remus?"

Gabriel didn't have time for Peter's niceties. He leaped right onto the boy's head and stuck the letter-bearing limb in his face. Peter stumbled several steps backward in alarm.

"Eeagh!"

He fumbled with trembling hands for the letter. The instant it was free, Gabriel shot off his head and vanished over the neighbour's garden wall.

Peter rubbed his head and tried to calm his breathing.

"You're a menace!" he called after it weakly.

Sirius Black felt rather than heard his brother Regulus's angry fist pound against the door of his bedroom at Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place, London—drowned out as it was by a whining guitar and rasping, impassioned vocals. Sirius cranked the volume of his Muggle radio up an extra notch, lay sideways on his bed, and indulged in a handsome, triumphant smirk.

Yet the pounding persisted, far beyond Regulus's usual capacity for patience. His interest piqued, Sirius let it go on until the end of the song; he then turned down his radio (though not by much), slid off his bed and strolled to the door. He opened it to chaos.

"Get—this—thing—away—from—me!" Regulus was staggering around the landing, shielding his head with one arm and swatting desperately at a furiously bellicose tawny owl.

Sirius cackled. "What'd you do to piss it off so badly?"

"I didn't! Nothing!" shouted Regulus. "I just tried to take the letter off its leg—aaah!" He almost toppled backward down the stairs, deflecting a series of rapid blows. The owl stopped mid-strike when it saw Sirius. It whizzed past them both and into the bedroom, out of sight. Regulus clutched the banister and doubled over to catch his breath. He was covered in scratches.

"Next time," said Sirius, meeting Regulus's sharp glare full-on, "don't go through someone else's post."

"Git."

Sirius shut his door. He ran a hand through his wavy black hair as he turned around—casual, but braced for action all the same. This was Remus's owl, after all.

Gabriel perched on the bedpost closest to Sirius. A few of his feathers stuck out at odd ends after his recent scuffle, and his foot was already thrust out. He looked mad. Sirius couldn't help but smirk.

"Going on five years," he said, "and you still scare the ruddy Dark Lord out of me." He stepped forward and reached for his letter, keeping as much distance between himself and the bird as he could manage. Gabriel let him take it.

"Odd—that's not Moony's writing," Sirius muttered, ripping open the envelope. He glanced up—Gabriel hadn't moved. "Go on," said Sirius, nodding toward his open window. "What're you just sitting there for?"

Gabriel waited. Sirius rolled his eyes and wandered over to his window to read the letter.

Thurs., 31 July

Dear Mr. Sirius Black,

How are you? I hope you've had a lovely summer holiday.

I know you to be one of Remus's closest friends. Might you be prevailed upon to pay him a visit over the weekend of 15 August?

He's been out of sorts lately, and I'd wager a visit from you is guaranteed to lift his spirits as nothing else could.

You are welcome to send back your answer with Gabriel, although he can be a tad contentious.

Please don't let Remus know I've invited you—I'd like it to be a surprise for him.

All my best regards,

Hope Lupin

"Oi! Gabriel!" Sirius snapped at the owl. "Wait right where you are." It was Gabriel's turn to roll his eyes.

Sirius strode to his antique writing desk and rummaged in the stationery drawer, drawing out a quill, a crumpled roll of parchment, and a small mirror. "James Potter," he said to the mirror, and began writing straight away.

"Alright, Sirius?"

"Alright, Prongs?" Sirius greeted the misty face of James, doubly obscured by the boy's thick glasses.

"No antlers yet, mate," said James, rubbing a hand over his hair.

"Soon enough," said Sirius.

"Listen, I was just about to call you myself. I got a letter—"

"From Moony's mental owl," Sirius finished for him. He dipped his quill hurriedly as he wrote and splashed ink over the parchment. "Nearly clawed Regulus's eyes out. Not that I'd have minded..."

"You got one, too, then?" ask James. "Was your letter from Mrs. Lupin as well?"

Sirius nodded. "Says Moony needs cheering up. Obviously I'm going." He glanced at James. "You're going?"

"I can't," said James with honest regret. "We're leaving for India on Monday."

Sirius looked sharply at James, and then bent moodily back over his parchment. "...Fine."

"You know I would, mate, if I could," implored James. "But I'll be stuck with my family on our foreign escapades 'til school starts."

"I know."

James cast about for a change of subject. "You're writing her back already?"

"Gabriel's here to glare at me until I do, I think." Sirius shot a dark look at the bird, who was indeed glaring. "But I would have anyway."

"D'you think Peter got one?"

"Dunno."

"His mum's got that surgery—he might have to stay with her."

"Maybe."

James'ss head started bobbing—he appeared to be walking with his mirror.

"I wonder what's got into Remus?" he said, thoughtful. "He sounded alright in his last letter."

Sirius scribbled out a word. "So did he in his last letter to me, but you know as well as I do, that doesn't mean a blasted thing."

"I know." James sighed.

Sirius jotted down his last line in hasty, swooping letters and signed the bottom. He wiped his hand on his face, streaking his high cheekbone with ink.

James raised his eyebrows at Sirius. "Your family won't be too keen on you visiting your half-blood, werewolf friend," he said. "What will you tell them?"

Sirius folded his parchment and stuffed it into an envelope. "Nothing," he said flatly. He reached across his desk for his Ever-Burning Candle and his seal. "What they don't know, regrettably, won't hurt them."

Sirius let a dollop of hot wax from the candle drop onto the envelope. He smashed down the wax with his own, personal seal. It was the Black family crest—the same as the original, except for the family motto inscribed on the banner, which instead of "Toujours Pur" read "Toujours Cur."