Disclaimer: I own nothing of Jo Rowling's; I just use her already wonderfully written works to let my imagination run on how things would have been.

Story Summary: The important story that has not been told, but is truly the starting point of all things Harry Potter, the life and tale of the infamous Marauders.

A/N: No worries guys, I am NOT leaving my other story "Prongslet". Truth be told, I'll probably update 'Prongslet' faster than I update this one. I just needed something else to write on and this came to mind. Consider it a kind of prequel to 'Prongslet'. It'll go from James, Sirius, Remus and Peter's first year to the day Sirius and Remus meet in Dumbledore's office to be told they get custody of Harry. Hope you enjoy.

Chapter 1: Heir of Godric Gryffindor

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James Potter looked longingly into the window of the "Quality Quidditch Supplies" shop in Diagon Ally. Just yesterday he had received his acceptance letter from "Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry." Of course, what with him being a descendant of one of the four founders of the school, he was all but assured of being accepted...so no real surprise there. One of the many benefits of being Godric Gryffindor's great, great, great, - To many Great's to mention, but great none-the-less - Grandson. This being the case, the reason James Potter was in Diagon Ally today was quite obvious. He, along with his aging parents, Harold and Mary Potter, were buying his school supplies.

The slightly tanned skinned boy had a mop of short unruly raven hair on his head that stood up at all angles and that truly never behaved in any way that his mother would have preferred. James, however, loved his untidy hair and he never missed a chance to ruffle it up to make it more so. His expressive hazel eyes - that never failed to attract a girl…whether James wanted them or not - that shinned with their usual mischievous spark that was rarely ever absent from his gaze were framed behind round-rimmed glasses.

James was a little on the lanky side, a inch or so taller than most boys his age, and slim despite how much he tended to eat...though this could likely be attributed to how much time he spent flying on his broom and playing Quidditch on his family's backyard Quidditch Pitch.

The Potter's were a respectable pureblooded family that could be considered one of the most wealthy. Ranking right up there with the Malfoy's and the Black's, regardless of how staggeringly different their views were from the other two. The Malfoy's and Black's, while wealthy pureblooded families, were pureblood extremists, while the Potter family was anything but. Muggleborns and Half-Bloods were no different to them than purebloods. Magic was magic, and if someone had it...then they had it, period, and they should be treated no different than the rest.

Mr. and Mrs. Potter had their son late in life, after years of believing Mrs. Potter - a woman who's dream had always been to have a family and children - was baron. James, as was clear, proved that theory wrong eleven years ago on the twenty-seventh of March, 1960. But with that being the fact, it could be considered a given that the hazel eyed boy was a little on the spoiled side...and protected as if he were some priceless treasure. Which in a sense, to his parents, he very much was. He was cared for, loved unconditionally, and was given whatever he wanted - almost - whenever he wanted. But despite all that, his parents had, and were, raising him well. He was reprimanded when necessary, though his parents were on the lenient side from time to time about it, and had grown into a very charming, respectful boy, really.

...Even with his infamous mischievous streak that he had inherited from his father. James loved his parents.

The eleven year old had sense for fun, laughs, and adventure - and had a courage to be reckoned with. He had never been one to turn down a challenge, of any kind. To say James Potter was arrogant, if not down-right haughty from time to time, would be somewhat of an understatement. He thought very highly of his abilities and namesake...who would not if they could fly as perfectly as him, or was as great with pranks, or had memorized as many jinxes and hexes as he had for when he finally got a wand, or had the kind of family he did? Pride was bound to happen. But even with all that, in truth, James Potter was actually a very kind-hearted person who cared a great deal for those close to him.

Now, even though he was standing in front of the Quidditch shop's window, gazing longingly at the broom of his dreams, James knew First Years were not allowed to have their own broomsticks at school... Sadly. Ugh... This was the Cleansweep Lightning, for crying out loud! It was the newest model yet, and was said to be the fastest broom to date. James understood that if it were not for the 'stupid' school rules as he called them, that his parents would get it for him, but as things currently stood... The eleven year old Potter sighed sadly as he backed away a few steps from the shop window.

"Next year, I promise," he told the broom with a definite nod.

Anyone who knew James, knew his favorite thing in the world was Quidditch. He was excellent at every position on the field, considering how much he played at home, but his main preference was the position of Chaser. Being an only child, James loved being the center of attention. The Chaser position, being one of the better deciding factors in the game, got the majority of the attention from the crowd. A lot rides on a Chaser's shoulders, after all. But James, who had yet to miss getting a goal when he played, was quiet confident in his abilities and chances for getting on his House team during his Second Year.

"S'you like the new Cleansweep, too, huh?" inquired a voice to the right of the Potter.

James - who had thought he was alone in his staring - turned to see a boy of about his age and height. He had dark black hair that fell into his eyes with a sort of casual elegance James' never could achieve even if he grew it out and were to actually want to it. The boy had unique bluish-grey eyes and a handsomely, almost chiseled, aristocratic young face, with that same fun mischievous glint in his eyes that James' always had.

"'Course I do! Who wouldn't?" replied James casually, with a small smirk playing at his lips. The young Potter had been known to make friends and attract friends easily, but hardly kept them for long because of his family constantly moving all over London. His parents, despite being old, were Aurors - pondering retirement - and had accumulated many enemies over the years. None greater so than the raising Dark Wizard Voldemort, who had been after the Potter's since James's childhood. Mostly because of James, though he did not completely know that.

Voldemort, being the only remaining heir to Salazar Slytherin, had been searching far and wide for the heirs of the other three Hogwarts founders so he could have the strongest set of wizards on his side. And James, unknown to him, was an extremely strong wizard. Thus in order to protect their son, Mr. and Mrs. Potter moved around a lot. But this year they promised their son they would stay in one spot from here on out because moving would not need to be done during James' school years, for what place is more protected than Hogwarts? They had recently been putting many protective charms on their new home in Godric's Hollow wizarding village.

"I know what you mean," agreed the boy. "Quidditch is the best sport in the world after all," he stated, grinning cockily. James grinned back and nodded.

"No kidding."

The two, who seemed to click right from the start, as though they where destined to be friends, turned and began to walk down the packed wizarding street, talking.

"Getting your school supplies, right?" the bluish-grey eyed boy asked curiously...if not slightly awkwardly, seeming to suddenly be a little unsure of himself. It seemed to James that the boy had never had someone 'decent' to talk to in his life.

"Yep, for Hogwarts. You?" James asked.

"Same," said the boy with a slight nod.

"What house do you expect to be in?" he asked as they passed Flourish and Blotts Book Shop.

"Gryffindor, of course! My whole family on my father's side has been in there, so that's where I wanna be too," James said proudly.

"My whole family's been in Slytherin except for one cousin whose in Ravenclaw," the boy explained somewhat reluctantly, his gaze trailing over to the other boy as they walked as though worried he would turn and run soon. "I guess I'll end up there, not that I want to. I'd love Gryffindor or Ravenclaw even, but…mum and dad would probably kill me," he stated resignedly.

James immediately stopped his buoyant fashion with his feeling sorry for his new...friend? Definitely...who obviously came from a very Dark Wizarding family, but did not want to grow up in their ways. Something for which James was slightly surprised, but quite thankful. He, for one, hated dark wizards and dark magic and would have nothing to do with it. This boy seemed to have a view similar to his own...or at least wished he could openly practice that view.

The boy eyed the hazel eyed Potter uncertainly, noting how the Potter no longer had a spring in his step.

"Hey, you know…you haven't told me your name yet," James remarked as he came to stop, opting for a subject change, a smirk forming on his face. One that clearly conveyed his 'not caring what kind of family the other came from'. The boy smirked back as he, too, stopped, a faint flicker of relief passing through his gaze, and out-stretched his hand in mock formalness.

"Sirius Orion Black, sir," he said introductorily. James took Sirius's hand and shook it firmly, as well in mock formalness as he too introduced himself.

"James, James Harold Potter, my good sir." The two boys smiled for an instant then let go of each other's hand.

"Pleasure to meet you, Mr. Potter," commented Sirius in a mock bow.

"No, no Mr. Black. The pleasure is all mine," James replied in an equally mocking bow. Both boys burst out laughing, knowing this was a start to one of the best friendships there could ever be.

"So, what Quidditch position do you fancy?" James asked conversationally once he regained his breath.

"Beater for me," stated Sirius. "You?"

"Chaser, naturally," James grinned.

"Favorite team?" the young Black asked, wanting to find how much in common they actually had.

"Puddlemere United!" came the reply.

"Wicked, same here!"

James opened his mouth to respond, when a tall elegantly black haired man put a hand on Sirius' shoulder. Not a second later an untidy grey - with flecks of dark brown - haired man, with round-rimmed glasses like James, put a hand on his son's shoulder shoulder. Both men looked at each other with loathing in their eyes.

"Black," Mr. Potter said with a curt nod.

"Potter," Mr. Black replied without a nod. The gaze he had been holding with James's father, shifted to James, making the boy feel uncomfortable.

"Why if it isn't Potter Jr. We all know what you'll be put to use for one day," he sneered. Sirius looked at James questioningly and James, who was just as bewildered by this statement, shrugged slightly. Mr. Potter looked livid and took a step in front of his son.

"Is that a threat, Black?" he questioned dangerously.

"And if it was?" Mr. Black sneered maliciously, and with his son in tow, he turned to leave. When they were a good bit away he whispered in his son's ear 'that if he knew what was good for him, he would never speak to the "Potter Boy" again.'

Mr. Potter sighed and turned to his son with a somewhat sad smile on his face. James' mind was racing… What had just happened? What did Mr. Black mean?

"Come on, James, your mother's waiting with your school supplies in The Leaky Cauldron," he remarked, steering his son in the opposite direction in which the Black's had gone.

"Okay," James sighed, looking over his shoulder to get a last look at his new friend, who luckily had decided to look over his shoulder at the same time.

"See you on the train," Sirius mouthed. James nodded and flashed a grin. Sirius returned it then they both turned back around.

"James, son, you know the lengths we've gone to in order to keep this family safe. It's one thing to make friends, that's fine, but a complete other to make friends with the son of a dark wizard," Mr. Potter explained to his son.

"You don't understand, Dad. Sirius may come from that kind of family, but he isn't like that," James told he father as they walked, urging him to see from his point of view.

"He may seem that way to you now, son, but he will, no doubt, follow the family tradition." Mr. Potter stated knowingly. James shook his head 'no' and stopped walking.

"Not Sirius, you didn't meet him, Dad. If you looked into his eyes you'd know. He's not and never will be evil," James said forcefully. Mr. Potter frowned slightly and bent down to his son's level.

"How can you be so sure, after only knowing him for a short period of time?" he inquired curiously.

"I don't know, I just…know," James said meaningfully. Mr. Potter eyed him doubtfully, but looked as though he had realized something. He nodded once, then straightened up.

"Alright, James. Let's go get your mother so we can go get the last thing on your list. A wand," Mr. Potter said, and they resumed their walking.

Mrs. Potter was a very beautiful woman, despite her old age, with wavy shoulder length salt and pepper hair the had once been the most radiant of raven black, and sapphire eyes, unlike James and Mr. Potter's who's were hazel, but James' eyes seemed to have his mother's unique sparkle.

"Oh, where have you two been? I've been waiting forever!" she stated with a playful smile.

"Just trying to find James who, mind you, is as hard to locate as a Snitch," Mr. Potter responded with a smirk. James grinned and his mother smiled affectionately at him.

"Not destroying things I hope," she chuckled.

"Me? Destroy? Never. Mother dear, how could think such things!" James questioned with an innocent smile.

"I know you, James Harold Potter, and for you a day is not complete without some mischievous act of mayhem or destruction," she stated knowingly.

"Not today, Mum," James reassured truthfully as they left The Leaky Cauldron. "But…don't expect as much from me everyday," he corrected with a mischievous smile. Mr. Potter chuckled while Mrs. Potter shook her head.

"That's my boy," Mr. Potter said proudly.

"Don't you encourage him, Harry!" Mrs. Potter reprimanded as they reached Ollivanders: Maker of Fine Wands since 382 B.C. A girl with gorgeous red hair and dazzling emerald green eyes exited the shop with her parents, who looked very much like Muggles. James had never seen a girl like her, his mouth dropping a fraction. She was beautiful... But before he could say anything his parents steered him into the shop. Mr. Ollivander was a creepy old man, in James's opinion. He spoke briefly with James' parents before turning to James. The Potter heir had to go through all the procedures. Which was his wand arm? Right. He was measured with the magical measuring tape that measured him shoulder to finger, wrist to elbow, shoulder to floor, knee to armpit, around his head, and even through his nose. They where there for a good hour - an hour of wave after wave after wave of wand waving, before an eleven inch pliable mahogany wand dubbed him it's correct owner. James had liked it best and was ecstatic when it shot out red and gold sparks.

"Excellent for transfiguration, that one," Mr. Ollivander stated proudly. Mr. Potter paid seven Galleons, and thanked the man before the family of three left.

James giddily twirled his wand between his fingers, letting his imagination run with the million things that where now open to him with his wand. The different pranks he could now pull, that had been impossible before.

"James Potter, is that a mischievous glint I see in your eye?" Mrs. Potter asked suspiciously. James grinned.

"Me? Of course not…"

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A/N: Whatcha think? Want me to continue? If not, I can stop it here. Either way, it's up to the faithful reviewers. If this is the first story of mine you've read, I urge you to read my other one as well. I'll be updating this story every so often so keep on the lookout, as for "Prongslet", it will be updated in the week. R&R, if you would.