March 18, 1971 – Hogwarts
Spring was gently making its presence known in the Scottish Highlands. Outside, the mountains, still crowned with snow, seemed to jealously guard the secrets of winter, but in the castle, the air was slightly warming. In the Great Hall, bouquets of snowdrops had replaced the enchanted chandeliers that sprinkled the bewitched ceiling with sparks. Laughter echoed from all sides, signaling the end of winter's harshness.
But for James Potter, the atmosphere felt heavy. Sitting at the Gryffindor table, he absentmindedly stared at his plate without truly tasting the feast prepared by the house-elves. His eyes unconsciously sought a specific silhouette over there, on the Slytherin side. And he found it.
Marius. Always Marius. Always the same demeanor: calm, distant, almost too perfect for a boy his age. His movements were precise, his gaze never truly lost, always evaluating. He spoke little, but when he did, his words seemed to carry an undue weight, a natural authority that silenced his peers.
James frowned. The more he observed this Slytherin, the more he felt drawn to something he didn't understand. A shadow, perhaps imaginary, but one that seemed to hover over this boy.
"James?" called Sirius, waving his hand in front of his face. "Are you going to stand there staring at him all day, or do you want to come to the meeting?"
James startled and looked away.
"Yeah... Yeah, I'm coming."
They left the table together, followed by Remus and Peter. Their little group had changed in recent months. Gone were the simple jokes and nighttime escapades. There was now a purpose, a mission they had set for themselves: to understand who Marius really was and why everything seemed to revolve around him.
The Room of Requirement – The Brotherhood of Dawn
The four Gryffindors quickly reached the seventh floor and stopped in front of a bare stretch of wall. James paced back and forth three times, thinking hard: We need a safe place to talk, a place where no one can spy on us.
A door appeared with a soft creak, and the Marauders slipped inside. Within, the Room of Requirement had taken on the appearance of a discreet refuge: thick red carpets, comfortable armchairs, walls adorned with maps of Hogwarts and shelves full of dusty books. A large table occupied the center, on which were spread notes scribbled by James and Sirius.
"Alright," James began, sitting down, "we need to agree. We can't keep... rushing in headfirst."
"What you mean," Sirius replied, slumping into an armchair, "is that we can't corner him like that."
"Exactly. We need to be smarter. If we accuse him without proof, Dumbledore will laugh in our faces."
Remus slowly nodded.
"And we don't even know what we're accusing him of," he said calmly. "Other than... he's strange. That's not enough, James."
James suddenly stood up.
"You don't see what I see, Remus! There... there's something in him. Something bad."
"And what do you think we can do?" Sirius asked. "Report him? Set a trap for him?"
A tense silence settled. Peter, who hadn't spoken a word, shrank further into his corner.
James took a deep breath.
"We do nothing direct. Not yet. We observe. We learn. We note his actions, especially in class. I want to know everything about him."
Sirius sighed.
"Great. Now we're becoming spies."
James shot him a glare.
"Do you think I'm taking this lightly? This guy... he gives me the creeps."
In Charms Class – The Forbidden Gestures
A few days later, James put his plan into action. They were in advanced Charms class with Professor Flitwick, and James had made sure to sit two rows behind Marius.
The topic of the day: invoking magical protections. Flitwick bustled between the desks, encouraging his students to create simple shields.
"Protego," he reminded them enthusiastically. "Concentrate, imagine the barrier in front of you."
The students complied, forming more or less successful translucent shields. James, however, had his eyes fixed on Marius.
The Slytherin raised his wand, but instead of the simple circular motion taught by Flitwick, he traced a strange sign in the air, a symbol that belonged to no modern incantation. Then he murmured the formula in a voice so low that James had to strain to hear.
And suddenly, the barrier appeared. But it wasn't a simple Protego. It was black. Dense. Like an obsidian mirror, absorbing light instead of reflecting it.
James felt a shiver run down his spine. He looked around: no one else seemed to have noticed, except him. Flitwick, busy with a student, had seen nothing.
Then, furtively, the shadow appeared. A dark mist, almost imperceptible, undulating around Marius's feet before disappearing as if it had never existed.
James blinked, his heart pounding. Had he imagined it?
The Weight of Doubt
That night, James couldn't sleep. Lying in his four-poster bed, he stared at the curtains, his mind racing. He replayed the strange sign, the dark barrier, the moving shadow.
He thought about telling Sirius immediately. But he stopped himself. Not yet. Not until he had more proof.
He sat up on his bed, clenched his fists.
"I'll watch you, Marius. Whatever you are."
Dumbledore
In his office, Albus Dumbledore perused a letter sealed with a strange symbol: a circle crossed by an ancient rune. His pale blue eyes gleamed with a muted concern.
The letter came from very far away, beyond seas and worlds. It spoke of signs. Of whispers. Of an ancient power stirring in the shadows.
Dumbledore gently closed the parchment and looked up at Fawkes, who watched him in silence.
"The times are changing," he murmured. "And not for the better."
Outside, the equinox wind blew. At Hogwarts, tensions were just beginning.