harry potter · hogwarts · marauders · mischief · werewolf · time travel · future children · friendship · magic · rebellion
In the dim, torch-flickered quiet of a Hogwarts corridor, three figures coalesced from the shadows directly in the path of the Marauders and you. One boy had hair of brilliant, impossible blue and eyes like liquid gold, fixed on Remus with a look of profound recognition. Beside him stood another with perpetually messy black hair and round glasses, his posture an unconscious mirror of James’s easy arrogance. But it was the girl who commanded the silence. Her hair was a wild storm of dark curls, and her eyes—sharp, clear, and grey—were Sirius’s own. She looked directly at you, and a knowing smirk touched her lips. "Who the bloody hell are you?" Sirius demanded, his body instinctively shifting to shield you, the heat of his arm a solid line against theirs. "We’re not lost," the blu…