Slap

"Too bad, Prongs," Sirius murmured, shaking his shaggy head so his hair fell into his eyes. Impatiently he swept it away again.

James frowned, examining the Quaffle in his hands. "It doesn't matter what I do, Evans doesn't want to know me," he said glumly, throwing the Quaffle back across the compartment. Peter watched eagerly, his eyes following the flying leather ball.

Slap

Sirius shrugged. "She's prejudiced. Just like Snape hates Muggleborns, Lily hates you. But you could change her mind."

Sirius' eyes lit up and he leant forward, tossing the bright red Quaffle in his hands. Peter was looking dizzy. "It's like that book we read in Muggle Studies last year-"

James scoffed. "Like you ever read anything, Padfoot!"

Sirius conceded this fact with a smirk and a nod. "True," he admitted. "Anyway, that's beside the point. Lizzie hates Dizzy-"

"Darcy," corrected Remus, not looking up from his book.

"Darcy, whatever, Moony. Anyway, she hates him, right, but he keeps being nice and eventually she realises she was wrong and falls in love with him."

Peter gazed at James, impressed. "That sounds just like you and Lily," he said.

"That's the point," Sirius deadpanned.

Slap

James caught the Quaffle thoughtfully.

"So if I keep being nice she'll eventually have to like me?" he said hopefully.

Remus finally looked up, his smile wry. "She has to trust you first, Prongs. And believe me, after the number of times she's caught you playing pranks or bullying Snape, you're up for a rough time convincing her you've changed."

James frowned. "I don't bully. Snape deserves it."

"Another prejudice," Remus responded knowingly.

Smack

"Ouch!" Sirius complained, rubbing his nose.

James grinned.

"Teach you not to pay attention, Padfoot."

Several carriages away, Lily was raging. Her audience, made up of the Gryffindor seventh year girls, rolled their eyes. They had always known Lily to be absurdly prejudiced against James Potter, but really, shouldn't she have grown out of it by now?

He had obviously matured over the past two years – ever since the lake incident, actually – but Lily was too stubborn to see this.

The girls knew well about Lily's stubbornness too. Only Emmeline Vance, her best friend, had any influence over her whatsoever. The others had learnt it was often best to stay silent- unless they absolutely couldn't resist.

"I mean, who in their right minds would make a Marauder - a Marauder, for Merlin's sake! - Head Boy, let alonePotter?"

Emmeline shrugged. "They've always said Dumbledore is mad," she replied reasonably, earning a frown.

"Mad but brilliant," Marlene McKinnon and Isadora Wood recited in unison, smiling.

"Don't worry about it," Alice Prewett said soothingly. "You probably won't even need to see Potter very often."

"They get their own dorm, Alice," Isadora said, grinning. "I think they'll be seeing each other plenty."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Lily demanded, watching the four girls giggle. They were just as bad as Potter and his friends, Lily reflected dismally.

"Come on, Lily. He's very sweet and funny. I wonder if you'll have to share a bathroom?" Marlene asked dreamily.

Lily rolled her eyes. "All right, then. While you lot continue to salivate over the freak-of-a-Head Boy, I'm going to find Art."

"I'm bored," Sirius announced, staring at James' dozing form. The Head Boy was stretched out across the seat opposite him, snoring softly. "I can't believe this is our last year at Hogwarts."

"I'm not ready to grow up," Peter murmured seriously.

"Evidently," Remus muttered briskly, his head still buried in Hairy Heart, Human Snout, or whatever it was called.

Sirius frowned at the book cover thoughtfully. "Even worse," he told them, "this is our last opportunity to cause as much mayhem as possible without facing severe consequences. Think of what we could do!" He gazed off dreamily at the ceiling, his eyes unfocused on a strange configuration of mildew that strangely enough resembled a cat.

"Let's make a pact," he suggested, straightening suddenly.

"Like the pact we made when we became the Marauders?" Peter asked.

"Better," Sirius told them. He leant forward, resting his elbows on his knees, his eyes glinting.

"We make a pact to cause as much trouble as we can think of."

"Excellent." Remus closed his book with a decisive snap that woke James up. Rubbing his eyes, James stared around at his strangely eager three friends.

"Mr Prongs, Mr Padfoot has a proposition to put forward," Remus announced formally, before bowing in his seat to Sirius. "Mr Padfoot, you may have the floor."

"Thank you, Mr Moony. Gentlemen, I propose we form a pact. 'I solemnly swear to produce as much mayhem as magically and imaginatively possible, to mark the final year of the Marauder's reign of tyranny over Hogwarts Castle.'"

James grinned, saluting his best friend. "Mischief managed!"

Remus and Peter echoed him, equally jovial expressions on their faces. Only Sirius seemed deeply thoughtful, although this was not particularly rare.

"Can we make a list, then?" Peter asked, after the appropriate period of respectful silence had passed.

James looked questioningly to Sirius, who shrugged. "If you like, Wormy. What of?"

"Pranks!" Peter said happily, rummaging in his trunk for parchment. "We can kidnap Mrs. Norris," he murmured, eyes shining.

Remus and James exchanged a lazy look, that, in simple terms, said 'Wormtail has gone mad.' Sirius, however, was nodding in approval.

James threw the Quaffle at his face. "Honestly, Padfoot! I thought you meant something more meaningful," he said, the picture of disdain.

Sirius looked deeply offended. "Prongs, Mrs. Norris is our arch-nemesis. Filch would be nothing without an evil companion, and I swear on Merlin's name that cat is evil."

Remus hid his wry smile behind his hand, pretending to yawn. Put in his place, James retrieved the Quaffle, which had rolled back to his feet, and delicately examined its soft, leathery surface ponderously.

James sighed softly. Remus was going to be no help whatsoever, this was clear, and Peter – well Peter was a bit of a lost cause when it came to Sirius. Unless James disagreed with Sirius… and, being best friends, Sirius and James tended to share the same tendencies.

"Bother it," he grinned. "Why not? Lets have some fun, Moony."

"Don't look at me," Remus responded immediately, raising his hands in innocence. "I wasn't the one who objected."

Peter coughed for attention. "So- " he sucked the tip of his quill, thoughtfully. "- we kidnap Mrs Norris. What else?"

James' eyes lit up, and he smiled. "Let's enchant the suits of armour."

Peter nodded, jotting it down in a scarily efficient manner.

"Naturally, as house captain I say we win the Quidditch Cup," Sirius put in. "I do realise that doesn't really qualify."

"Let's drug the Slytherins!" Peter grinned, the image of a cheeky young man. "Let's dose their breakfast!"

"Aye aye. How about-"

"How about we make Lily fall for Prongs?" Remus finally suggested, a practical voice of reason. "At least then we can kill two puffskeins with one stone."

"B-but what about Scamander?"

Sirius scowled. There was only one boy who Sirius disliked more than Severus Snape: and the school was not, and never had been, big enough for the two of them. To top it off, last year Art Scamander – fabulously wealthy, even more so than the Potters, and with an ego to match – had asked out Lily Evans, who had long been declared the object of James' affections. Sirius could only see this as an attack against the Marauders' sensibilities. Of course, Lily – innocent, ignorant, lovely Lily - was completely unaware that she had a boyfriend only by means of a silent grudge war.

James' expression mirrored Sirius.

"We catch him out."

Remus rolled his eyes. Both being male specimens of the highest masculinity – although Remus was often forced to wonder about Sirius' obsession with his hair – Prongs and Padfoot made enemies almost as easily as friends. There was Severus Snape – who, undeniably, oftenearnt their scorn; but there had also been that Scamander, or Scummy, as they thought of him, who liked to parade about the hallways and pluck unsuspecting students out of the crowd to join his exclusive group of friends. He disliked the Marauders intensely, as they (between three of them, at least) were all much smarter, a great deal more popular in general and much more amusing.

The ink had dried on Peter's pen when the compartment door opened, and a fifth year prefect stuck his head in to tell them they would arrive at the station in a matter of minutes.