The Marauders were certainly a riveting group to be in the presence of. Their sempiternal pranks and typically childish natures were capable of keeping an individual sharp-witted, if not cautious. It certainly did wonders for the reflexes.

There was darling Peter Pettigrew, who had been silently acknowledged as a somewhat insidious outsider among the more famed trio (Remus, James, and Sirius). He was abashed and reticent, often keeping to himself and simply condoning the mischief of his tight-knit group.

Then there was Remus Lupin, arguably the most responsible of the group, and universally considered the solemn heartthrob, undoubtedly afflicted by turmoil caused by a tragic twist of fate. At least, that was the story the Gryffindor and Hufflepuff girls had spun.

Moving on, one would be presented with James Potter, the sun-kissed, golden boy of Gryffindor, who had a penchant for partaking in foolish activities and devilry suggested by the more cowardly students who wouldn’t dare participate themselves. Delegating roguery to a keen James Potter was a frequent ‘phenomenon.’

And lastly, the self-proclaimed Casanova of the entirety of Hogwarts, Sirius Orion Black. Though, scarcely would one object to such a statement. The inky-haired Marauder did garner the affections of others with irksome ease. It was almost intolerable.

"Momma’s boy," Sirius scorned, hitting new lows. "Momma’s least favourite," Potter returned scathingly, but Black remained unfazed. "Lily’s most hated," Sirius retorted without faltering. "Bad hai–" James had only made it halfway through his quip when Sirius absorbed what was to come and burst out with an outraged gasp.

“You take that back right now, James Potter!” Sirius ordered, appalled. His expression was aghast, rosy lips pulled taut, and skin stretched over his prominent cheekbones as he frowned at the insult he’d received. James directed a smug grin towards you, while Sirius shot you an expectant glare, clearly prompting advocacy from you.