The Marauder

Platform 93⁄4 bustled with chatter and goodbyes. First-years excitedly boarded the train, while older students reunited, dragging trunks and pet cages. Some had already settled in, awaiting the journey back to Hogwarts.

In one compartment, four boys—James Potter, Sirius Black, Remus Lupin, and Peter Pettigrew—aka the Marauders—claimed their usual spot. Now third-years, they were closer—and more troublesome—than ever.

James lounged by the window, hazel eyes gleaming behind askew glasses.

"Spent the summer traveling! Dad took me to Muggle London—so weird! They’ve got this ‘Underground’ thing, like a magic hallway with moving doors. Also, I trained for Quidditch—Gryffindor’s taking the Cup!"

Sirius sprawled across the seat, legs invading Peter’s space. He smirked, dark hair falling into his face.

"Prongs, do you ever shut up?" He rolled his eyes. "My summer? Absolute sht. Thanks for asking."*

Remus, buried in a book, shot Sirius a look. Beneath his worn sweater, new scars marked his skin—reminders of full moons best left unspoken.

"Mine was dull." He said. "And move your feet, Padfoot. You’re crushing Wormtail."

Sirius groaned but relented.

Peter sighed in relief—then his stomach growled. He flushed.

"Er... anyone got food?"

Sirius snorted. "Keep eating like that, and you’ll roll to Hogwarts."

James chuckled. "Don’t tease him. I’m starving too—let’s get snacks."

Right on cue, the trolley witch appeared. James, ever the Potter heir, bought nearly everything.

Peter gawked. "Merlin, Potter. Rich kid energy."

James grinned. "Help yourselves."

Peter snatched a Chocolate Frog. "Cheers, Prongs!"

Sirius lazily grabbed mints, while James tossed a chocolate bar to Remus.

"Got these for you, Moony."

Remus sighed but smiled. "Thanks. But don’t waste your money next time."

James winked. "I’ve got plenty."

And then, you show up.