Marauders One-shots

'Our Parents'

!Disclaimer! I DO NOT OWN ANY OF THE HARRY POTTER CHARACTERS OR STORY PLOT. It's just me and my sad excuse as a Potterhead

The Marauders sat at the Gryffindor table, plates piled high with breakfast foods. The Great Hall was mostly empty, save for a few other Gryffindors a little way down the table, a Hufflepuff girl and some of her friends, and Regulus Black and Barty Crouch on the other side of the room, keen on keeping to themselves. All of which were nearly invisible to the group of friends who sat at the end of the table, near the fireplace, eating lots of food and chatting excitedly if not partially hushed. They couldn't risk being overheard if this prank was to be a success. 

Sirius had just gulfed down another side of bacon and eggs when an owl flew down, dropping off a stack of letters -- two, to be exact -- in front of the boy and taking a piece of toast in turn. 

The boys sat and stared, scared to see what the letters held, until James rolled his eyes, breaking the silence, "Oh, C'mon. None of them are howlers, and I don't think they're written in a Black's handwriting, eh, Sirius?" 

Some of the color seemed to have returned to the boy's face, and he leaned over the letters, shaking his head in answer. 

James nodded, grabbing the letters and his eyes widened. He handed them both to Sirius, a small smile on his face. Sirius took them, looking them over before his face took on a similar expression to James' and he ripped open the envelopes, reading over both letters many times. Each time his eyes finished one and began the other, his lips upturned into an impossibly wider grin. 

Peter cleared his throat, leaning over the table and trying to see over Sirius' shoulder, eager to be part of this exciting moment. "S-so, who are the letters from?" 

Sirius thrust the letters in Peter's face, wrapping an arm around James' shoulders and in doing so, exclaiming quite loudly, "Our parents wrote to me! Mum Potter wrote one and Mr. Potter wrote the other. Though, technically they were for the both of us. Prongs just let me open them, is all. They said, 'Our Boys' like I really am one of them. And of course I knew that they thought that, but it's still nice to hear it."

Prongs grinned too, wrapping his arm around Sirius' shoulders as well. From across the table, Remus giggled, "Look at you two. Practically brothers already." 

At this, the boys' grins couldn't have gotten any bigger. James took his glasses off and placed them on the table, raising his eyebrows, "Eh? Look like brothers, do we?" 

Remus giggled again, nodding enthusiastically even as he said, "I didn't say you looked it . . . " but it was no use. Remus and Pete could only sit back in amusement as the boys were too busy laughing and looking each other over, pointing out similarities between themselves.

And they did look like brothers. Both had the pitch-black hair, the same dopey, mischievous grin, the same twinkle in their eyes. And with the way they never did anything without the other, it would be easy enough for strangers to believe them to be brothers. 

Regulus, however, had stopped eating and was listening intently to his brother's conversation with his friends. He knew that Sirius and himself had their problems, but they were still brothers. Still had each other's backs. Didn't they? He turned his gaze over his shoulder and caught a glimpse of Sirius and the Potter boy sitting arm in arm, both grinning wildly, and his heart sunk. 

Regulus sighed, excusing himself from the table and telling Barty to let him be. He walked briskly past the Gryffindor table in exiting the Great Hall, but not quick enough for Sirius not to see him. 

Sirius couldn't help but feel bad, but James' enthusiastic explanation of:  "Mum and Dad will be so happy to hear back from you!" was all it took for Sirius to forget about his troubles with the Blacks.