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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Spring, June 1969.
That spring had been perfect. The yellow and white daffodils bloomed cheerfully along the park's path, offering their final burst of colour before the season came to an end.
The cool air was filled with their sweet fragrance, creating an oasis of beauty in the midst of busy Cokeworth, where brick factories and smoking chimneys dominated the skyline. There, among the trees and flowers, the city seemed to hold its breath in the serenity of the park. Despite the good weather, only two girls were playing that day.
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Both were sisters, and being close in age, they shared a very close bond. They attended the same public school, although in different grades.
They were the daughters of a happy middle-class couple who had settled in Cokeworth, where Mr. Evans worked as a supervisor at one of the industrial plants. His job allowed them to live a comfortable, albeit modest, life.
The Evans were loving and kind, rarely arguing; and when they did, it was about matters such as the possibility of sending their daughters to a small private school in the city—a luxury that not many middle-class families could afford in that gray and noisy industrial town.
Although the idea excited both sisters, especially Petunia, the decision had not yet been made, as the cost was considerable.
Despite being very close, the differences between the sisters were evident, both in appearance and character. Petunia, the eldest, was serious and always obedient; she liked feeling responsible and often imitated her mother in the way she organized things. Her impeccable manners reflected her desire to please others.
Lily, on the other hand, with her infectious laughter, was playful and curious. She had a natural glow, and her quick mind made her stand out among children her age. Her mother would regularly say she was "too clever for her age," marvelling at how quickly she grasped things and how easily she found joy in the everyday.
"Just a little more, Petunia!" the younger girl pleaded from the swing; her eyes sparkled with excitement. Her red hair seemed to float in the wind each time she swung higher, as if trying to touch the sky.
