The beginning of a new era at Hogwarts: the first year of the Marauders.
When James Potter, Sirius Black, Remus Lupin, and Peter Pettigrew arrive at Hogwarts, none of them are prepared for what awaits them in their first year. For each of them, this...
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Autumn, September 1971
Sirius entered the room early, his hair dishevelled and wearing only his plain black robes. The Slytherin uniform was no longer in his hands; he had just sent it off to Madam Malkin's. Though he knew the reason for sending it away should fill him with pride, the entire situation felt ironically humiliating.
That morning, he hadn't just packed up fabric. Along with the uniform, he had sent off all the hopes and expectations his family had placed upon him. And that, far from liberating him, left him with a strange mix of guilt, fear, and satisfaction.
As he stepped through the door, he glanced up and saw James. James stood by his bed, adjusting his cloak with a grin that radiated natural confidence. His new Gryffindor uniform fit perfectly; the golden lion crest seemed to shine with a light of its own, as though he had been born to wear it.
"Not dressed yet?" James asked, raising a curious eyebrow, a half-amused smile spreading across his face. "Thought you'd already gone down to breakfast."
"Not yet. I had to go to the West Tower to fetch my owl. Needed to get rid of... the other uniform," Sirius explained, collapsing onto his bed with a groan, his gaze fixed on the ceiling beams.
"All right there, Black?" James asked, a spark of friendly teasing in his voice. It wasn't malicious; it was as though he sensed Sirius needed to lighten the burden he was carrying.
"Perfectly fine," Sirius said with a long sigh. James caught on that whatever had happened, Sirius preferred to leave it behind entirely.
James didn't push further, but neither did he leave it alone. Instead, he observed Sirius for a moment, considering what his grandfather might do in his place. Then, with characteristic nonchalance, he announced:
"Well, in that case, I'll ditch the uniform too."
Sirius sat up straight, his eyes widening in disbelief.
"No, don't—" he began hastily. There was something in his tone that suggested politeness forced him to protest, though inwardly, he didn't seem entirely against the idea. "Please don't."
James folded his arms, tilting his head with mock solemnity.
"And be the only first-year idiot wearing the uniform? No, thanks."
Before Sirius could argue further, James had already begun shrugging off his cloak, vest, and tie with quick, deliberate movements. In mere moments, he stood in the plain black robes, matching Sirius' attire.
"For your information, most of them got their uniforms early this morning," Sirius pointed out, nodding slightly towards the neatly folded packages near Remus' and Peter's beds.
James shrugged, utterly unbothered.
"Doesn't matter," he said casually, slipping on his plain black tie. "If you're not wearing the uniform, I won't either."
