It's my first Marauder's Era fanfiction! Not finishing/updating projects is not the greatest habit of mine, and I'll try my best to update this one, because I hardly do anymore, so I hope this actually goes well. Forgive me some inconsistencies and errors, it's been a long time since I've posted anything on here.

DISCLAIMER: I do not own Remus Lupin, Peter Pettigrew, James Potter, or Sirius Black [if I did, Sirius wouldn't end up alone, and I don't think he deserves that]. Anything familiar from the Harry Potter series is property of J.K. Rowling, the most brilliant woman alive. I can only claim to own the plot, and the original characters.

It was July.

If she was being honest with herself, it had been the greatest summer she'd ever experienced. After all, it was the summer when she'd really felt she'd changed—she'd felt something other than the usual droll emotions of mundane wallflower. From watching people (not necessarily people at school), she'd learned what she liked, and didn't like: she liked dressing like someone from the sixties. She hoped she looked like Mia Farrow in her youth (even if she knew she didn't); she liked playing Quidditch, and dressing well. She'd learned to be kind to everyone. Even when she didn't like somebody's tone, she'd be civil enough to tell them.

That day she was staying over at her friend's house; Dakota Keighley lived in Brighton, but their family had a pool. That particular day was too hot to do anything but swim in that very pool, but she'd remembered that she hadn't brought a swimming costume. "Our neighbours are ignorant, they won't care if you swim without your swimming costume," Dakota said with a shrug, raking her fingers through her fair hair, which barely even reached her ears. "I will if you will," she said, grinning near-wickedly. "I'm game," her friend's voice was noncommittal, seeing as she was shimmying out of her corduroy shorts. "One," she began, "Two," Dakota pulled off the T-shirt she wore, "Three," with that, she pulled off the white sundress she'd been wearing, jumping into the pool, clad only in her under garments. There was a great splash—and she was surrounded by water.

She relished the feeling, being underwater. It was one of those moments wherein she felt weightless, and able to do whatever it was she set her mind to. The gold blob that had been her marker of Dakota's presence disappeared, meaning she'd left. Taking her time, she rose for air, not sputtering and gasping, but breathing as calmly as possible. She paddled to the stair portion, and walked the rest of the way up. Then she realised why Dakota had suddenly left the pool in pursuit of land; they had guests, unwelcome ones, in fact, and yet her friend was receiving them. By 'them,' she meant James Potter and Sirius Black, the two Marauders.

In truth, she really didn't have anything against the Marauders. Sure, they played pranks on people. She didn't find them boring or offensive to her. What she didn't like was the way that Potter was always clamouring for Lily Evans (whom she'd heard just been made Head Girl), a girl who seemed to despise him and his ways; she didn't like the way Black had fan girls everywhere he went, causing traffic jams in the hallways because of their gatherings in the corridors. Really, she didn't like having to take the long way to the library and find that it was already closed for the night. It was nothing personal, her mild dislike of them. It was indirect, mostly.

Potter shielded his eyes from the glare of the sun by holding up a hand, seemingly in salute. Most girls would have found that endearing, but she only waited for what he was going to say. It might have involved some sort of dry line, but he only said, "So, Dakota. We've been in the same house for seven years and you neglected to tell us that you had an ocean in your backyard." She quietly picked up her sundress, pulling it on for the sake of decency, and didn't try to impress them by fixing the dark fringe that was supposed to hang shyly over her tawny eyes. "It's not an ocean, James. It's a pool. Besides, you never asked," shrugged Dakota.

"Can we go for a swim, then?" asked the trademark drawl of Sirius Black. Unlike his friend, he had wisely chosen to shield his eyes with a rather nice pair of sunglasses—Panamas, she noted. "Go on then, my parents aren't coming back from the Bahamas until the first of September," Dakota found one of their helpers and asked for a drink, "Rue, do you feel like a margarita? I'm feeling significantly thirsty." At the mention of her nickname, she looked up from the interesting goings-on of a rock. "Oh, yes, that would be nice," she replied. "Seems like you've gone in the water, Sable, and how is it?" Black asked her. How is it that you know my name? "It's alright," she shrugged, sitting in one of the wicker chairs intended for reading or meals al fresco. "Come in with us, then," Potter suggested, "This pool's too big just for two people to share." Yeah, right.

"I'm going to shower," she said, "Dakota will come back for you." Potter was dumbstruck as he muttered, "Er, OK." Black was more composed when he said, "Bye then, Sable."

September the First; it was the beginning of Sirius' seventh year.

The Hogwarts Express was full, as usual. He, Remus, and Peter looked for an empty compartment, or at least a near-empty one that they could use. "There's one!" Peter pointed to one that was occupied by two girls, one brunette and one blonde. Sirius rapped three times on the compartment door to catch their attention. The blonde was the one that gestured for them to enter. He situated himself at the seat by the window. He found that he was across the brunette, who happened to be lovely and greatly familiar to him but he didn't know from where. "Remus, where are Lily and James?" asked the blonde, whom he finally recognised as Dakota Keighley, the pretty artist who liked putting her far-out views in her numerous paintings and sketches. Wait, if she's Dakota Keighley, he thought as his gaze rested upon the lovely brunette, that means...

"Rumer, Rumer Sable? Is that you?" he inspected the fair-skinned tawny-eyed stunner who sat before him with a line of fringe stopping at her brows, with the high cheekbones and not-too-full lips. "Surprised, Black?" she raised a brow challengingly. Her hair fell to her chest, longer than he'd ever seen it. "Your hair grew out," he observed. "Yeah, that's sort of why I got the fringe to go along with it," Rumer responded. "Padfoot, she only got a haircut. She's not an entirely different person. Oh, and Dakota, Lily and James have been made Head Girl and Head Boy. They're holding a meeting with the Prefects," Remus interjected, taking his nose out of his latest book (which happened to be called Valerius Frigg and the Technicolor Enclave) long enough to tell her this. "Why would James Potter get elected as Head Boy?" asked Rumer, looking at Remus. "Dumbledore said so," he responded for his friend, who had returned to the world of Valerius Frigg and his Technicolor Enclave. "But you Marauders have been playing pranks and getting detention for years," Dakota echoed.

"Still, Dumbledore said so," he shrugged. "Lily I understand, but James? I'm sorry, but I can't believe it," Rumer blinked her big eyes repeatedly. "Believe it, Rumer," the boy in question entered, Lily behind him. "Lily! Say it isn't so!" Dakota sounded pleading. "I'd be lying if I said he wasn't, so he really is," Lily said mournfully. "James Potter running around with authority; I just don't see that picture happening," said Rumer. "It's already happened, Rumer, and I can take points from Gryffindor under the premise that you're being disobedient to the rules," Potter stated matter-of-factly. "Lily! The Head Boy is being abusive of his role as Head Boy!" Rumer looked to Lily, who then shot Potter a glare before saying, "Potter, don't be immature. That badge you have isn't a pass to blackmail, prank, take, bully or inflict pain. It's to uphold Hogwarts rules and policies."

Remus hid a small smile. Sirius shot him a look. "Besides, Potter, if you get detention, and Gryffindor has a game, I'll be playing Seeker in your place," smirked Rumer. He remembered—she was their reserve. "That's never going to happen, Sable. You're going not getting any play this year, just like last year, and the years before," James countered. "We'll see about that," she was still smirking. "I just realised!" Dakota said quite suddenly. "What?" asked Lily. "There'll be one free bed in our dorm, because you're going to stay in the Heads' dorm. It'll only be me, Rue, Marlene, and Alice," responded the blonde. "How is this relevant again?" Rumer raised a brow. "If you're asking how it's relevant to Quidditch, it's not. But, it is relevant to the fact that somebody might make a request to move dorms, and out the goodness of her heart, our dear Lily will give her bed to that girl, regardless of her nature, and we'll be stuck with that girl all year," Dakota concluded matter-of-factly. "Honestly, `Kota, sometimes I wonder how you think of all these scenarios," Lily smiled at her.

"I think of all the possible realities, Lil. That's just one of my theories—another would be that it'll be the home of Rue's new broom," Dakota nudged Rumer, wagging her eyebrows. "You got the Cleansweep? But you don't even play!" James exclaimed. The fact that the newest, fastest broom on the market went to the Seeker reserve was pure injustice to him. "Dad thought I'd need it," she was smirking again. "It's fine, Prongs. I got some new equipment too; I got myself a Beater's bat to replace the one you broke in August," Sirius told his best friend. "It wasn't my fault the Bludger went rogue," shrugged the black-haired boy. "You got a new bat, Padfoot?" Peter squeaked. "Yeah, I did," he replied. Dakota scooted over to accommodate Lily, practically squeezing Rumer against the wall. James sat on the floor of the compartment, the Head Boy badge gleaming.

"Remus," Rumer piped up, "What is that book about?" Remus didn't respond. Taking it upon himself to Remus back to the world we inhabit, he snapped in front of his friend's face, "Moony. Sable asked you a question." The boy mentioned looked up, "Yes?" Rumer repeated herself, "What's that book about?" he replied, "About this young wizard called Valerius Frigg who ventures into the Muggle world and meets a closed society of Muggles who call themselves the Technicolor Enclave." Dakota condensed all of this down to, "A bunch of weed-smoking Muggles, basically." Remus chuckled, "There is some weed-smoking, but not every character."

They went on like that for a while, talking about weed-smoking Muggles, Muggles in general, how they were different from weed-smoking wizards, or how they were different from wizards in general. Some moments he caught himself looking at Rumer, when she spoke, or when she held her hair, or when she blinked. He didn't know why he did this—he never really paid much attention to her before. It's the hair, he decided, the novelty of the new haircut will wear off, and I won't think much of her again. But he forgot that decision when he saw her smile; it was a smile that held questions and answers, mysteries and clarity. Of all the smiles he'd seen on a girl, this was a smile that was complicated, and simple. It was genuine. It was real. It wasn't a smile pasted on her face for the sake of appearances. It wasn't a drawn-on smile that hid problems. It was a smile.

He looked out the window. The green pastures would make him forget what he thought of Rumer Sable's smile, yes, that was what those pastures would do. He looked away from the window to see what was going on, and as if she was doing the same thing, she caught his eye. It was a glance that said, what're you doing looking at me, Sirius Black? He shrugged, looked out the window, and ignored her reflection in the glass.

Why was Sirius Black looking at me? Rumer thought as she took her place at Gryffindor table, between Lily and Dakota, across Marlene and Alice. The Sorting Hat said its song, which she didn't have the patience to pay attention to, Dumbledore said his usual start of term speech, and the food appeared before them, along with the gold plates, goblets, and silver flatware. The year before, the Marauders staged their start of term prank, as they had years previous to that of the last. Last year it involved curly scarlet and gold streamers falling from the bewitched ceiling, which twined itself in your hair and only came off if you said a certain charm. The teachers were on edge—there was no telling whether or not the Marauders had a follow-up prank to last year's year-end prank of filling the entire castle with Snitch-sized balls of glass, making it seem like some demented version of a Muggle ball pit. Filch, the caretaker, was in a corner of the Great Hall, ready with his hand curled up into an angry, gnarled fist. Rumer toyed with her food, waiting for something big to happen.

Rumer, along with the teachers and students, waited for nothing. All the Marauders did was eat their food, casually talk among themselves, and bear no semblance of a group of people who were responsible for something. She looked to Lily with an expression of hey, not a bad start for this term on her face. "Do you think they really have matured?" Dakota whispered in her ear. She shook her head and whispered back, "I bet they're just biding their time, waiting for the right moment. You know how they are." Dakota nodded. The feast was over after a while, and they began the jaunt up the staircases to Gryffindor Tower. The Marauders were the first before the portrait hole. "Eversor lumen," said Remus Lupin, the most responsible out of all the Marauders. "Wait, I've perfected it!" the Fat Lady exclaimed, drawing breath to shatter that blasted glass.

"Please let us in," Dakota wiggled through the crowd that had gathered to plead to the Fat Lady. "You're adorable, Keighley, but I've really perfected it this time, I'm going to show you!" that was the cue for everyone to cover their ears. "Honestly, I imagine twenty years from now that some other batch of Gryffindors will be suffering this," she told Marlene, who happened to be right beside her. Marlene nodded with a slight giggle. "That was lovely; I've never heard anything like it. Don't waste it on us, though," said Dakota weakly. "Yes! The other portraits should hear of this! Come in, come in!" the portrait swung open, and everyone walked in.

"My head hurts," Alice said as they went up the steps to the girls' tower, hand to the side of her head. That was when Marlene noticed something sparkling on her left ring finger. "MERLIN, SHE'S ENGAGED!" she cried, holding it up to the light. Rumer looked at the modest but not unattractive rock with a smile, "Congratulations, Alice." The girl smiled back, "Thanks, Rue." She knew it was only time until Frank Longbottom proposed—Alice was kind-hearted, pretty, and clever. Most people would have dwelled on the pretty aspect, but she couldn't blame them for it; Alice really was, with her dimpled smile, shoulder-dusting light brown hair, and honest brown eyes. If you told her that she was pretty, she would softly thank you for the compliment, but redirect the conversation to another topic. "I can't believe it! You're getting married!" Marlene wasn't over it.

"We're having a June wedding, so it won't be for another nine months or so. Frank and I both want to finish school first, we've spent too much time here not to leave properly," Alice said, "You, Lily, and Rue are invited, by the way. I need all three of you months before, though, so you can help me plan. Grace—," Alice mentioned her younger sister, "is over the moon. She doesn't know whether she's more excited to be my bridesmaid or the fact that she'll be getting my room at home when I leave." Marlene chuckled, "I think she's more excited about getting your room, but in any event, of course! We'll help choose fabrics and flowers, taste cakes and drinks, bands and venues. Won't we, Rue?" Marlene looked pointedly at her, as if to say, agree to what I'm saying, she needs this support right now. "Of course!" she echoed, a bit too happily for her own tastes.

Alice smiled feebly, "Thank you, and if you'd let me, I'm going to lie down now, my head is really quite painful now." Marlene was concerned by this, "Was it because of us? Oh, I'm so sorry, Alice!" the brunette of the moment simply waved her off, "No, it wasn't you. Or you, Rue, if you're going to start feeling guilty now. I was just a tad bit affected by the Fat Lady." Rumer took this as cue to let her lie down, "Lie down, Alice, it'll be better in the morning. Marlene and I will leave you alone now." She motioned with a slight nudge of the head toward the door to take her leave. Thankfully, Marlene noticed this and silently opened the door, went outside, waited for Rumer to leave, and closed it as quietly as she'd opened it. "Where do we go?" asked Marlene in a low voice, seeing as they were just making their way down the girls' staircase to the common room.

"We're obviously in the common room now," she stated plainly, "and this is where we've gone." Marlene shook her head, but she was smiling. "Thanks for that, Captain Obvious," she said finally, huge and sparkling sapphire eyes set in a golden complexion expectant under a line of honey-blond fringe, "OK, what do we do?" this was what she hadn't considered. If she was alone she would have found a piece of parchment and started drawing, but it wasn't an activity for two people. She watched Marlene's face, the chubby cheeks puffed out and deflating as she let out a blast of air through the perpetually yet unintentionally pouted pink lips.

Before she could open her mouth to speak, an auburn-haired boy came sauntering over to their spot near the girls' staircase, swaggering in his gait. He wasn't much taller than Marlene, who was about 5'6. "Hey, Marlene," he spoke cockily, like she wasn't even there. Not like I'd want attention from some creep. "Hello, do I know you?" asked Marlene politely. "No, but I bet you'd like to," winked the boy, "I'm Ozzy, Ozzy Cutler." Rumer gave this character a once-over and concluded that he was just feigning arrogant confidence and had never spoken to anyone remotely as lovely as Marlene. "It's nice to meet you, but I didn't think of you until now, and I think you should really get back to your group of friends, they seem anxious to have you back," Marlene gestured to a cluster of boys that were talking in low voices to each other and looking at them. She said this kindly, and if she were told something like that, she wouldn't get hurt at all. "Would you want me to go back to them?" he raised one eyebrow. "I think she does," she finally interjected, "or haven't you noticed?"

"No, actually, I haven't—," Ozzy was supposed to reply haughtily, but he then turned around and realised how much taller she was than he. "—noticed," he finished after a three-second pause. Is it me, or does he look afraid? "I didn't notice that. Thanks for pointing it out. Sorry," he scurried away, the swagger in his gait gone. "Wow, I don't know whether to laugh or pity him. Being let down gently by the original girl, and having to deal with the girl's friend, who completely rejects him! I'm going to try my hand at not laughing," the blonde hid a smile behind a small hand. "You're going to fail—miserably, I might add," she responded, a grin surfacing. "Come on, before he sees," Marlene dragged her into an alcove hidden from view. "That was awful," she said, before exploding into a fit of giggles. "I can't believe you did that either, Rue," chortled the pretty blonde.

They stayed there for a while, laughing it off, until Marlene said, "We can't just hide here forever, let's go into the common room." She nodded, and perhaps came out of the alcove too fast, because she quite literally bumped into someone. Thank Merlin I didn't trip. She glanced up to see who she'd just inconvenienced, and met the grey eyes of a certain Marauder. "Sorry," she muttered, averting his gaze and brushing past him. She didn't like the way he looked at her; it made her uncomfortable. "Yeah, sorry," he said as she passed by. Marlene was on her heels while she went straight back up the girls' staircase and to their dorm, suddenly tired.

She entered her room to find Alice, sound asleep. With a sigh, she sat down on her bed and drew the curtains, still-on robes be damned. She heard footfalls, different in pace, meaning two people had gone in. They crept past Alice's bed and slowly drew the curtains. It was Dakota's face that welcomed her first, sitting at the edge of her bed, drawing the curtains again. "Marlene went to bed," she began, green eyes focused on hers, "and like her, I'm confused by your actions." She sighed again, gaze resting on her friend's eyes. They were green, like Lily's, but wider and darker in their greenness. Dakota leaned forward slightly, no hair moving with the motion, seeing as her gold-coloured hair was in a pixie cut. Her cheekbones were sharp; her lips adequately sized but relatively thin. A dusting of freckles peppered her feminine nose, the apples of her cheeks.

Dakota rested an elegant olive-skinned hand on the back of her own. "Look, you can tell me. You're not usually like this." She let out a blast of air. "I don't usually get unwelcome attention, either." Dakota's fair brows furrowed together, "What do you mean?" she took a deep breath, "When you bump into someone, you don't look at them after you've collided, right?" at this her friend shook her head, "You just say sorry and go on your way." She wasn't done explaining it. She wouldn't be able to describe it, the discomfort of being looked at, not with Dakota looking at her at that precise moment. "You look at someone when they're speaking, right?" the blonde before her nodded, her legs tucked under her, hands on her knees. "When you've glanced at the window, you don't look at them once they've finished talking, right?" Dakota was confused for a moment, and then nodded again. "So, do you understand my problem now?" she raised both brows in question. "I sort of do, yeah, but just one question—who's the creep who's been looking at you far too much?"

"Promise not to tell?" she asked. "I swear on Merlin's grave," said Dakota. "Sirius Black," she whispered in her ear. "You're joking," her friend didn't even laugh when she spoke these words. "No, I'm not. Don't you remember him on the train?" I'm half in hysterics here! Can you not see that? "Oh—oh! Yeah, he was staring at you. I even caught him looking at you when you held your hair real quick. I would've said that perhaps it was just the haircut, but you bumped into him and he looked at you after you bumped into each other," Dakota stroked her chin in thought. "It's creepy," she said. "Yes, but you've got to admit it's flattering. If it were someone else, maybe you'd be feeling really odd. But it's Sirius Black we're talking about here. If he's been staring at you, then you must've caught his attention," stated Dakota matter-of-factly, "You're really lucky."

"No, I'm not. I have a boy looking at me funny. It's rotten luck, if it's luck at all."

What do you think of it? Was it too much, too soon? Was it the opposite?

Constructive criticism is very welcome. If you've got a question about something in this chapter, don't hesitate to put it in a review.

Thanks for reading!

—Elly