It is said that all good stories begin with the classic, "once upon a time." It is said by others that all horrible stories begin with the grossly overused, "once upon a time." It must be made plain right now, dear comrades, that this story is neither good nor dreadful. It contains bits of both, you see. It contains a bond of friendship between four boys that could not be broken--or so everyone thought. It contains exorbitant amounts of true love which also could not be broken--or so everyone thought. It contains a stag, a dog, a wolf, a rat, and others too numerous to mention--or so everyone thought. It contains a force of pure evil which must be defeated--or so everyone thought. It contains an introduction with an absurd amount of repeating words at the beginning and end of each sentence--or so everyone thought. It ends in tragedy--but it begins ... ah, it begins with "once upon a time. ..."
James Potter was a dashing young Gryffindor with a soul of valor and a head of untidy hair. His hazel eyes sparkled mischievously behind round spectacles, and in his breast beat the heart of a true lion. (This, of course, is not to be taken literally. He still had a human heart, you see--the lion reference was simply used to symbolize his bravery.) For oh, was he brave! Noble, daring, chivalrous, and bold, he was the epitome of a perfect masculine Mary Sue--er, Gryffindor.
Right now, the lion-hearted, hazel-eyed, untidy-haired James Potter was sleeping. He tossed and turned in his bed, for he was having a very realistic, very frightening nightmare.
"Lily," he was calling frantically, "Lily Potter whose last name used to be Evans until we got married! Where are you?"
"I'm here, James Potter who I used to hate with a fiery passion until we started going out and I fell in love with you!" a female voice called faintly from another room.
"Take Harry, our son who looks a lot like me except for his eyes, and go! It's him! Go! Run! I'll hold him off!"
"It's who?" the voice asked.
"Him!"
A red-haired woman with green eyes came out of the bedroom carrying a baby. "Oh, the postman? Good, I wonder if Witch Weekly will come today."
"No, our postman is actually a woman, remember?"
"Oh, right. And post usually doesn't come in the evenings. So who is this `him` you speak of, dear?"
"It's ... it's ..."
The door burst open, and Lily shrieked, clutching the baby tightly. Someone laughed maniacally. "You can run, but you cannot hide!" he bellowed. "You still haven't told me why you won't purchase any of my lovely frozen food items!"
"No, not the door-to-door salesman!" Lily moaned, sinking to her knees.
James knelt next to her. "Go while you've got the chance," he muttered. "I'll try and get rid of him. Don't worry, my flower. You and Harry will be safe."
Then James stood up to confront the salesman, who had a huge, red face and a colossal overbite. Then the man did a horrifying thing. He tugged at the nape of his neck, causing his disguise to fall away, revealing ...
James screamed so loudly that he woke with a start.
"Prongs!" said a voice, and James' best mate Sirius hurtled into the room, wand drawn. "Prongs, I heard decidedly un-manly screams coming from your room. Is something the matter?"
Sirius Black was, by anyone's standards, extremely handsome. His hair, unlike his best friend's, was elegant and perfect, even though he'd just gotten out of bed in a hurry. (Always having elegant and perfect hair is, you see, one of the many perks of being Sirius Black). Although he was riddled with a tragic past, complete with a family who had disowned him, one could never tell by looking into his brave, beautiful eyes. They were a striking gray, and were usually full of mischief, only not at the moment; concern for his friend was written all over his breath-taking, gorgeous, perfect, drool-worthy features.
"Oh, Padfoot," James wailed (in a very masculine way, of course), "I had a nightmare. It was ... it was horrible!"
Sirius sat on the edge of James' bed. "Tell me about it, mate. It'll make you feel better. Discussing your deepest fears with someone who cares will ease your mind."
"You think so?"
"I know so."
"How?"
"Because I'm Sirius Black."
"Oh. All right." James paused, taking a shuddering breath, then began. "I was in a house. A house with ... four walls and ... some windows. And ... there might have been a door too. Yeah, with a doorbell beside it."
Sirius nodded grimly. "Anything else you can remember?"
"There was ... a girl, a beautiful girl--"
"Wait, hang on," Sirius, the notorious ladies' man, cut across him. "There was a beautiful girl in your dream, and yet it was a nightmare? That doesn't compute in my extremely intellectual mind."
"The girl wasn't the bad part," James explained. "That came later. But this woman--I think she was my wife. I think I called her ... dammit!"
"Not a very flattering name," Sirius observed.
"Not that, idiot," James retorted. "I said `dammit` because, right at a crucial moment, I conveniently forgot everything about my dream."
"Everything? Even the girl?"
"Even the girl," James sighed. "But oh well, it's not like that dream could have been foreshadowing my death by the hand of an insane Dark wizard after the betrayal of one of my best friends or anything. Let's go downstairs and eat."
* * *
In a house several hundred miles away, Lily Evans stretched and yawned, the sunlight making her dark red hair glow with stunning radiance. "Oh, my," she said to herself (since, unlike James, none of her friends happened to be living with her and her parents). "I hope I haven't overslept. That would be catastrophic. If my alarm clock malfunctioned again, I may have to ignite my rather fierce temper and throw it across the room. That would be most unladylike of me, and would probably jeopardize my membership in the Association of Defenseless Female Characters. So no, I'd better not risk it."
With that crucial decision out of the way, she rose daintily and walked with perfect grace to her mirror. A delicate-featured face looked back at her, complete with startlingly green eyes. Although she was rather petite, Lily, like James Potter, was a Gryffindor. This meant, of course, that she was courageous, but she was also very clever, kind, and understanding. She rather prided herself in being everything that arrogant toerag Potter wanted, but couldn't have.
Suddenly, Lily's face paled and she clutched her dressing table for support. For some reason, the thought of James had reminded her of a dream she'd just been having. And not any ordinary dream, but a horrible, terrifying nightmare. Only for some inexplicable reason, the nightmare seemed to have less to do with the fact that James was in it, and much more to do with the presence of a door-to-door salesman. In fact, she vaguely remembered clinging to James in fear, almost as if ...
All at once, there came a perfectly-timed pounding on the door downstairs, successfully jarring Lily from her thoughts. "Oh, dear!" she cried, frantically putting on a dressing-gown. "I wasn't expecting any visitors at this hour. Perhaps Mum or Dad will get that."
Sure enough, she soon heard her mother's voice downstairs. "Oh, yes, darling, Lily should be awake by now."
Then there were rapid footsteps on the stairs, and before Lily could brush her (already perfectly presentable) hair, her door flew open, and in ran one of her best friends from Hogwarts, Sabrina White.
Sabrina was, by anyone's standards, extremely lovely. She had long, honey-colored hair that flowed down her back in glorious waves, and deep, chocolate-brown eyes surrounded by long, graceful lashes. Sabrina was also a Gryffindor, and she was widely known for being feisty and flirtatious in the most adorable way. It was also widely known that she hated Sirius Black almost as much as Lily hated James Potter.
Now, however, Sabrina ran to Lily and hugged her. "Oh, it's been so long!" she squealed happily, her voice like sweet bells on a summer night.
"Oh, Sabrina, it's so good to see you!" Lily said, beaming with tears in her eyes. "I wasn't expecting you! Did you come to surprise me?"
"Of course! And I was hoping we could go shopping in Diagon Alley for our school supplies today, because I have a sneaking feeling we'll run into all the other main characters there."
"That sounds lovely," Lily agreed. "Then the rest of them could all be introduced at once, and this story's plot can get properly underway."
"This story has a plot?" Sabrina gasped.
"Why, of course!" Lily laughed. "Now let's go downstairs and eat."
A Marauder's Cliche by KDTheRavenclaw
Story Notes:
This story's purpose is to mock cliches, not authors. Please don't take anything personally, because if you do, I might just be forced to laugh at you. Also, I am using the pre-DH version of Snape here, so disregard everything we learn about him in book 7. Trust me, it makes him a lot more fun to write in this fic!
Chapter Notes: Welcome to my story! This is just something that has been bouncing around in my head for a while, and without the help and encouragement of certain people, it probably never would have gotten posted here. So thanks, certain people!
Now I shall shut up. Enjoy!
Chapter Endnotes: Me again! See that pretty little review button? It really likes to be clicked on, you know. This is also my first fic ever, so tell me how I did! I'll take your opinions seriously unless you completely lack a sense of humor. Then I'll just mock you. But nobody who's reading this has that problem, right? Right!