A Marauder's World

Part 1

Special Halloween treat...or trick depending on how you define this. I've been wanting to post this for ages but I'm terrible about starting new projects when I'm not done with others. Trust me when I say I want to work on this too so hopefully I'll continue to post more chapters while working on my PJO series.

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At first glance the man was mistaken for a Squelch. Bare chested, with skin so discolored he resembled a corpse, hair so greasy it was plastered to his scalp in any color, pants a filthy and ratted mess, hem particularly caught and worn as his shuffling gait continued in a relentless pace in peeling boots. Slow, but steady, gaze focused one foot in front of the other, only destination in mind.

James raised the scope to his eye, his only hesitation to shoot was the unappealing idea of drawing even more Squelches when it seemed a docile one, alone, just let it get a bit closer and it would pass right by or he could easily scale down and give it its namesake.

Then he saw closer, clearer. The only clean thing was the blue shirt cradled to his chest. Squelches did not hold things.

The rifle fell from his slack hands and thudded against his hip only thanks to the strap. He spoke through numb lips. "Wormtail, go home, now."

"But Prongs, it could be a trap-" he tried to protest, his sharp eyes may have even spotted the bit of color before James had.

"I know," he assured. "Get Remus and Sirius," he clarified with an order.

"James!" He tried one last time even as he began descending right after his mate on the ladder. "Why would you risk-"

James Potter landed boots first with a thud and took off, trusting Peter to listen as his scuffling gate took him back to the village but he dared not look back, head rotating in all directions for the possible trick this could be.

It wasn't. A mewling set up from the man's arms as James reached road, and the fathers locked eyes as the infant began full blown crying. Moaning, rasping, hungry noises answered.

Fight sparked to light in the strangers' eyes, but his quacking muscles had locked up. No longer on autopilot to take him on his travels, now adrenaline left him with the fear of Squelches shambling towards him and a stranger in his way of running with the infant now setting up a complete storm.

James left the gun at his hip, redundant at this point but his mind screaming against making even more of a racket when he could beckon, "come on, up here!" He backed away and gestured to the deer stand they'd been hiding out in, if he had to push the man and that babe up every rung and make a run for it himself he would.

One, two, three staggering steps were his last, the shirt off his back and a last gasping breath all he had left in him. "Judith," the voice was so raspy, more caked with exhaustion than the grime on him. "Save her." His knees buckled and he hit the ground as their death approached.