Chapter 1: Interrogations and the Like

As it seemed, James, Remus, Sirius, and Peter were all sitting in a classroom silently, awaiting their turns to sit across the table from a counselor or teacher (usually McGonagall) for a short conference concerning their futures. They were all in the eleventh grade and had, presumably, more than considered their career choices and the colleges ahead of them, but at this moment they were merely waiting for teachers which they already knew to ask them questions to which they already knew the answers. Confirmation, most likely, but it may have been the fact that around eighty percent of the staff members were gone, and in their absence, something had to be done besides another free period.

James Potter was sixteen years and nine months old, and counting, and had already been in more plays and musicals than he could remember, his latest being a production of Chicago* in the local theatre across the street from the supermarket. His path was considerably clear in his mind. Though he had just ended his awkward-cracking-teenage-voice period a year and a half ago, his singing was, and had always been, brilliant. He used this voice the majority of his teenage life to serenade red-headed Lily Evans, a girl the same age whom had a voice rivaling James', and maybe even Sirius'. James, strangely, had also developed an unbelievable talent for sprinting (Arthur Weasley, a friend, had attempted to convince him to join track too many times to count). It just may have been fueled by all that running from Lily and her friends while they brandished their musical instruments (drumsticks, a couple guitars and a bass) and yelled something about 'shut the fuck up potter your voice is atrocious'. But that's just a guess.

Sirius Black, sitting next to James and scribbling profanities on the side of the desk in sharpie, didn't care about counting how old he was in months, but he knew he rivaled James in the number of musicals and plays he'd been in. The two of them created an insufferable dramatic duo, causing immense mental (and physical) pain and annoyance on both Remus and Peter's part. He took great pleasure in over-dramatizing everything and anything,(somewhat like a girl, Peter commented). He often whined about his weight and spend an ungodly amount of time in front of a mirror. The upside to all of this was that Sirius could sing and act like nobody's business, and was pretty damn good at being a convincing evil/dark creature or human or ANYTHING for that matter, especially if he was royalty. He could do the evil-snobbish-bastard act better than anyone could. (And, fun fact, he looked and acted very good in makeup and a skirt, onstage or off. Maybe it was the fact that he possibly had more curves than Lily?) He could also play the violin; a death sentence for anyone that didn't want to spend their evening sitting on the sidewalk in the sunset watching Sirius play the violin and dramatically fake-cry whilst retelling the tragedies of his day.

Remus Lupin could truthfully say that he was nowhere near as dramatic as the two dark-haired idiots he called his friends, and he was damn happy about it. Though regretfully, he wasn't as good of an actor or singer as they were. He could, however, write an amazing story or play, and had his own little column in the newspaper, about which he was very proud. Remus often wrote short stories on various topics and left them in badly-concealed documents on his laptop, for James, Peter and Sirius to read, inevitably. His birthday would be coming up soon, but he had another anniversary that he thought he liked far more, because it would be three years now that he had been male. James and Peter liked to look through and 'awww' at his photographs of when he was a child, and also not a 'he'. Sirius would, from time to time, peer over their shoulders and offhandedly comment that he looked much prettier as a boy. Remus would glare irritably at him, hiding a grin, and go back to his newfound love for drawing political comics. And a little secret for the both of us: Remus Lupin would gladly spend all evening sitting on the curb and watching Sirius Black play the violin.

Peter Pettigrew had talents in different fields of art than his three friends, something he was rather pleased about. He was never as loud or outgoing or humorous as any of them, choosing instead to spend his time hunched over a sketchbook or a canvas in his cave of a room, as his mother liked to dub it. He was brilliant at it, of course. He used nearly his entire life and definitely all of his money on his hobby, and possibly career. Vincent Van Gogh was his current favourite artist, and he had spent his weekend, the whole 48 hours of it, on a painting of Sirius' house in England in Van Gogh's style. He also was legitimately good at playing instruments and, if extreme effort was committed, could play each instrument for a whole orchestra (given that he was duplicated into enough people for an orchestra). He, Remus, and Sirius were all hated by James for the fact that they all played instruments (Remus was remarkable at the piano, something learnt in childhood), and were therefore all closer to Lily than he was, as Lily loved every instrument under the sun. She was somewhat jealous of Peter, but he only smiled and told her that she probably would get to be better than him at all of those instruments someday in the near future.

So, when the four boys sat there amongst the crowd of students in the classroom, none of them had any doubt whatsoever about what was ahead of them. They all had anxiety that what they wanted to happen wouldn't, of course (Remus especially, given his self-confidence levels and the conditions concerning his previous gender), but they were all confident about their dreams. Hopefully.

"..."

"Hey, Sirius. What time is it?"

"I think it's time for you, dear Moony, to get a watch!"

"…."

"...That was just sad, Sirius."

"Shut up, James. You know you love me."

Peter was adding the textures and shading to an anorexic tree to the left of Sirius' house while humming a song from Into The Woods*, so naturally he didn't notice when Remus entered the room. It stayed that way for quite a while, until Remus commented, "The bark's peeling."

"What?" He smeared a line of black across the tree as he turned around, looked at it, and groaned loudly.

"At Sirius' place. The bark on the tree's all dry and peeling. Yours looks too… healthy. Happy, even." Remus eyed the tree carefully. "Try darker..." he jabbed his finger at a spot "…there. There's a big branch that splintered off, right there." He pointed. "It fell against the window of their sitting room… And I think the branches go up to the second story; remember Sirius threw Prongs out his window one time?"

Peter winced. "Yeah. Nasty bruises. Sirius is just lucky that James didn't break a bone or anything."

"…At least he caught onto the lower branches before he fell, though," offered Remus, stifling his laughter at the recalled memory. In all actuality, it had been quite funny, despite the immediate danger. He supposed he shouldn't really be laughing, because throwing friends out of second story windows should really be a dangerous thing, but you couldn't help it. Especially since it was James, who, instead of getting mad, climbed back up the wall (with great difficulty) and clung to Sirius pitifully, crying crocodile tears** and begging to be told 'why he wasn't good enough for him' and 'I thought you loved me, how dare you toss me out of a window like I'm trash', etcetera. It was very convincing because he was bleeding a bit on his head and had dirt and grass stains all over.

Sirius' mother had been furious.

It was the paramount of their stay, obviously.

I doubt a disclaimer is needed, because obviously I don't own anything. Otherwise this would be in books and not a site called FANFICTION.

* - Musicals. Legitimately well known ones, I think, so I don't think I need to say much.

** - Fake crying, basically, to anyone who doesn't know.

Will you tell me if this is alright for a first story (and a first chapter of a first story)? Because I'm not sure if I know.

I'm pretty familiar with the theatre community in all of it's glory, seeing as I'm a part of it. Yeah, maybe not this extreme, but 'our kind' act very strangely. Haha.

I have an infatuation with commas I'm so sorry guys

Also I haven't written anything in forever and tend to get off topic easily... Review anyway? 8D