So this is me reposting my story because I lost my files and because I couldn't re-read it without cringing.

I need a beta if anyone's interested, but beware, it's going to be a long ride.

I'll also be posting this in AO3 every 3 chapters.

This is canon compliant. And if you find that it isn't please, please, please, point it out to me.

Full Summary: The Beatles, firewisky, free love, war, peace, Queen, protest, revolution, before the Weird Sisters there were the Soul Seers, before the Golden Trio there were The Marauders, before the Death Eaters there were The Knights of Walpurgis, before the youngest seeker in a century, there was the youngest animagus in a century, before The-Boy-Who-Lived there was James Potter and before the DA there was the Hogwarts class of 71. This is the story of four boys, how they became brothers, and how they changed the course of the world in the meantime.

Disclaimer: Queen Rowling owns everything. Including my soul.

The Marauder's story is a tragic one but it's also one full of love and friendship. It's a story about four boys, four brothers, and how they destroyed each other, intentionally and unintentionally.

Peter Petigrew was not the only one responsible of the Marauder's downfall; Sirius and Remus contributed by suspecting each other, James and Lily isolated themselves albeit by necessity. One way or another, they were doomed the moment they stopped trusting on each other; Sirius stopped trusting Remus' loyalty, Remus stopped trusting Sirius' allegiances, James stopped trusting his own judgment, and Peter stopped trusting them to keep him safe.

They saved each other from their respective demons but they were never supposed to fight them alone. Their friendship wasn't ment to be broken. Once it did, they all suffered horrible, sorrowful, and depressing fates. Their worst nightmares became true. James was unable to protect his loved ones, Sirius was swallowed in darkness, Remus was alone and rejected, and Peter would never feel safe again.

The war tore them apart and they didn't even notice until it was too late.

But before all that pain, there were four boys and a whole generation people who knew them, the real people and not just the stories too; not as the War Hero that died for his family, not as the Prisioner of Azkaban, mass murdered, not as the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, lonely werewolf, not as the rat, the Death Eater Traitor, but as The Marauders, those four Gryffindor boys who had brilliant futures ahead of them.

There were good times and there were bad times, there were The Dark Days and there were The Untouchable Days. In the end, the only days that would matter for the world would be their last ones, their generation would never forget them. But the again, almost everyone in their generation, everyone with a story about them, died in the span of twenty years.

And without anyone alive to keep the memories, how would the next generation even know? They would never hear the story of the Marauders, pranksters extraordinaire. They would never know of the four boys who brought a school and a generation together. They would never know of all the kids who bravely and foolishly fought the war they had inherited, with the hope that one day their own kids would live in a peaceful world, a better world.

It's ironic, how they never realised when they turned into their parents; trusting into the hands of sons and daughters a war that wasn't theirs. It's ironic, how the next generation wouldn't learn from past mistakes because nobody had ever told the story of Hogwarts Class of 1971, the class to which the majority of the most important member of the Order of the Phoenix belonged, the class who had sweated, cried and bled for peace, the class who had contributed the most to the war effort, in both sides.

That is, of course, until now.

Please review ;D