The Complete Account of the Lives and Deaths of Messrs. Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs

By Mordred

Edited by Miranda Collier

"Je Ne Mourrai Pas"

Disclaimer: This entire story is comprised of a world that does not belong to me. Everything you recognize, from the characters to situations to dialogue, is under the copyright of J.K. Rowling and Warner Bros. No profit is being made from this story.

Summary: Before the boy who lived, there was another story. One of a monster inside of a man. One of a traitor inside of a friend. One of a hero inside of a boy. And one of an angel inside of a demon.


The Beginning of a Story

For years I have been fascinated not with the Harry Potter story, but with the story before it. Some ten good years before little Harry was born, his father went to Hogwarts, made friends closer than Ron or Hermione, and did pranks to show even Fred and George up. Sirius Black and Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher Remus Lupin joined him on a seven-year rampage of escapades, explorations, and just all around marauding. And bringing up the rear was Peter Pettigrew, now known as Wormtail. Even after Hogwarts, they stayed together. It's this story of friendship, courage, and the occasional laugh that always intrigues me more than the canon's main plot.

It also intrigued my younger brothers, to whom I was reading all five books to at night. When the fifth book, Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix, hit bookstores, I took them up to their room at night, sat on the top bunk with a cup of ice water and a fan, and started reading in my dramatic voices. It took us about a week to finish the 800-page book, and we were left with no reading material. So I went searching on the net for fanfiction that was semi decent for little boys to hear. I found a few, but my oldest brother suggested that night that I should write my own fanfic that we could read at night until school started up again. I agreed, and sat down to write out the part of the series that would never be written by J.K. Rowling, but has been written over and over again by us fans. But it was my turn to try my hand at the Marauder years.

By doing this, I (as well as my brothers) could witness the transformations of Remus, the loathing that Snape had for James, how Sirius and James had met, how they had become Animagi, how they had written the Marauder's Map, etc. It turned out to be a challenge. I didn't want this book to be off canon, so I went combing through all of the books for clues on what had happened. I didn't want my story to become one of these off-the- wall and warped views of what happened. I didn't want any adventures that weren't written or mentioned in the series, and I didn't want to warp the characters to be my own.

Forever Alive is in its fourth year of existence. What a wonderful and awe-inspiring idea that this fanfiction grew to be what it is today. As a joke, my college friends and I googled "Forever Alive by Mordred" into the server and actually was faced with the reality that this story has not only touched the minds and hearts of those nearest to it, but thousands of strangers from every continent excluding Antarctica. It has been translated into three languages (Spanish, French, and German), and has many fans spilling into the message boards of some of the most well known fansites out there to date. In an interview for my college, my now-advisor asked me for a small fun fact about myself, and I said with a completely straight face, "I wrote a 1400 page Harry Potter fanfiction that now has a kult following." We both laughed for a bit, and then I said, "No. Seriously."

It took a year to finish this story. The entirety of the sophomore year of high school was spent between homework, my original works, and Forever Alive. I finished it in July of 2004, and that was the end of that.

Fortunately, that was not the end of it. To this day, I still get at least three reviews a day and even more on the French translation. However, a lot of these reviews were always complaining about the same things. My French was terrible, my grammar was horrendous, and it contradicted Half-Blood Prince and Deathly Hallows, both of which obviously were published after I had concluded my story. With these requests to please follow up on an edit, I decided to do just that.

What you see before you today is the re-edited version of Forever Alive. My BETA reader, Miranda C, approached me and offered her help in this process. Without her, none of this would have gotten done and I would still be pestered by my terrible fifteen-year-old French skills and sentence structure. This version is up-to-date, including some of the information we learn about in the two later books, staying to the idea although for the sake of the original plot lines, certain creative differences have taken place. While I wanted this to be as close to canon as possible, I must disappoint you in saying that there is at least two major issues with doing so. One: this book and the character arcs were created before Rowling announced how James and Lily's parents died. For the sake of the book, I cannot say how they die in this story, but I will tell you that it is very different from what Rowling imagined it to be. Also, Bellatrix Lestrange and her sisters are in a different order of birth, as is Lucius Malfoy. Lucius is seen as three years younger than he actually is, putting him in the same year as Sirius and James. Please take these things with a grain of salt, because the rest of the book lines up perfectly to the canon.

So I welcome you into the world of Harry Potter again, through new eyes, and through a new story. These characters do not die with the final book, nor will they ever. They are Forever Alive, and they are forever in our hearts.

Welcome to the Marauder years.


The Last Marauder

It was over. The battle was over. The heroes of the night were forgotten, and the world had turned peaceful again. The steadfast Aurors of the Order had disappeared into the shadows of the past without a word of gratitude from anyone. They had gone to save just another handful of lives and had returned one man short. This man would never be celebrated, nor remembered.

Molly, Arthur, and Remus found themselves in the hallway of the now ownerless house at Grimmauld Place. The only voice heard throughout the hallways was that of Kreacher's. Remus hated him at that moment.

The house-elf would soon be joining his mother on the wall.

Sirius was gone forever. Padfoot was lost to the world. Now only one true Marauder was left. Now only Remus Lupin remained.

He sat down, stiffly, in a chair in the common room, staring at the pictures on the wall. None showed Sirius's bright face. None was a reminder of his good friend. No one in the world had cared for the lost soldier. No one in the world would mourn for him.

"Are you feeling all right, Remus?" Molly asked, emerging from the kitchen. She hadn't been there. She hadn't seen the horrible sight that he had seen. Sirius's face --- his eyes --- falling through the veil --- She never did like Sirius. Actually, she had hated him.

It was in this moment of looking at her blushed, blustery face that Remus recalled the argument she and Sirius had bickered out only last summer, when Harry had arrived at Headquarters. Molly had looked into Sirius's face, looking for some sort of understanding from him.

"You have to understand, Sirius, he's my son's best friend."

"Well," Sirius had huffed, "He's my best friend's son."
"Remus?" Molly now sounded, giving a worried look to him. He shook his head.

"I'm fine," Remus answered, and turned away from her. He couldn't face her now. He felt a mixture of fear and loneliness. These things he had no come across since he was but a child, but now it was so much harder to face the shadows. Sirius was dead. And he was alone.

"Now what's to become of Harry?" Arthur asked, sitting down at the table. He looked so tired, so worn out from the world. He hadn't been there, either. They were both free from the sight that kept flashing into Remus's head.

His eyes. Sirius's eyes. They had been alive when they were killed. The rest of his body had been motionless. But Sirius --- he had looked at Harry. Harry hadn't realized it. Harry had been in a state of shock. But ---

Sirius had looked at Harry.

A pain shot through Remus's heart. He knew that he would always feel terrible for the loss of his friend. But Harry would feel worse pain for the loss of his godfather. Poor Harry. He had been through so much.

He had been through too much.
"Remus, dear, are you sure you don't need anything? A cup of tea? Butterbeer?"

"I'm fine, Molly, I'm fine," he said, jumping to attention, "I think you two should go up to the school and check on your son. He was very brave tonight."

"He was very stupid tonight," Arthur grunted, and stood up uneasily from his place at the table. "He could have gotten himself killed! He-"

"Stuck with his friends," Remus interrupted him, and smiled a sad smile. Molly and Arthur stared at him, not knowing exactly what to say. Remus didn't care. He needed to think. He needed to get away.

"Well," Molly coughed, and as she rubbed her hands on a dishtowel she added, "Yes…well…if you're here to…hold down the fort. It would be good to see Ron."

"I'll take care of everything," he assured her, and forced another more worn smile onto his worn face. Molly gave him one more discerning look, and then grabbed her cloak.

"Come on, Arthur," and Arthur followed his wife obediently into the fireplace and to Hogwarts.

Remus was alone.

The eyes had been so alive. They came back to him again. Had it only been two hours ago that he had sat here, playing wizard's chess with Sirius? Now he was alone.

He stood up on his shaky legs, and made for the bedroom. Up the rickety staircase, past Kreacher ("Filth! Dirty bloods! Half breed!"), and through the door frame covered in cobwebs. It had been Sirius's room. Everything was still in place, just as he had left it. The Muggle girl posters, the Gryffindor paraphernalia his friend had been so proud of --- everything was untouched by time, by people, by --- anything ---

Remus sighed, and sat down on the bed. It was still indented with its owner's body. It still smelled of Sirius. There were loose hairs on the pillow. Remus closed his eyes, and let out a shaky breath. He still couldn't believe it. Maybe, if he went to bed, and had a good night's rest, he would wake in the morning to find his old friend grumbling around the house as usual. Maybe if he just shut his eyes, and then opened them again, very slowly --- he would be alive ---

Maybe if he just kept them closed Sirius would come and speak to him. Maybe if he waited long enough ---

"Remus, what are you doing?"

He dared not open his eyes. The dream was too real. He wanted it to keep going. He wanted to hear that low, drawling voice again. He wanted Sirius to give him some sort of sign.

"I'm waiting for you," he replied to the thin air that surrounded him. He could feel his cheek against the pillowcase. He could hear Kreacher's cackling a floor below.

"Why?" the would-be ghost asked from the doorway. Yes, that is where he would have been standing; at the doorway, leaning up against it with his arms crossed and his hair in his eyes.

"You're coming back," Remus whispered.

"Now, Moony," Sirius laughed, shifting his weight onto his left foot, "Why would you think up a stupid thing like that? We both know damn well I'm gone."

"You can't be. You're alive. We need you, Sirius. Harry needs you ---The Order ---"

"There are things worth fighting for, Remus," he interrupted. His voice was closer. He had walked towards the bed. "And the things you just named were a few of them."

"Padfoot, I-"

"Be strong," he said. "You're all Harry's got now. You're the last Marauder. You've got to keep going. You have to let go of me."

"I can't! Without you or James, I'm nothing!"

"That's a load of dung," Sirius snorted. "You and I both know you were the smartest. The wisest. That's why you're still alive. That's why you're in the Order, Remus."

"I don't want to be alive."

Sirius laughed. Remus didn't know why. He didn't find anything funny about the current situation. He was talking to someone who was no longer alive, thus proving he was going mad. He was crying. He was alone in a haunted house with an idiot elf and a dead painting. And now he was the last Marauder.

"Listen, Moony," Sirius said, "You saw the beginning of this Great War, and you're going see the end. Now get up out of my bed, wash your face, and get downstairs. Dumbledore's going to be here any minute. And look what you're doing to my pillow! It's drenched! Get off, get out of there! Stop moping around! Look at yourself! What would James say? Besides, someone's got to give Wormtail a good hard kick in the rear. He's deserved it, don't you think?"

Lupin wiped his eyes, and opened them. He was alone again. Sirius was gone.

Kreacher walked back up the stairs in his slow shuffle, and passed the door muttering, "Mad dirty half breeds speaking to themselves! The filth Kreacher and his mistress must put up with!"

Lupin stood up, and crossed over to the desk where scrolls upon scrolls of parchment were set. He sat down and took a handful of them to read. He felt as if he was intruding, but Sirius was dead. What was he going to do? Haunt him?

Remus smiled to himself, dried his eyes again, and started to leaf through the papers.
January 15, 1995


Do not leave your house again. This is your last warning.




There was an unfinished letter to Harry. A threatening one to the Dursleys (Sirius had never sent it). A list of all the creatures lurking around in the kitchen and common room (written by Molly).

And then…all of a sudden…handwriting that Remus hadn't seen for years. Four handwritings. Together, all written in red ink. It had been done to resemble blood, since all of the boys were scared to prick themselves. It read:

We solemnly swear that we are up to no good. On this fortnight of October 31st, 1975, the four Marauders agree to follow each other until death do us part. We also agree to always keep secret the Great Power that we possess. Oh, yes…and one more thing. To make Snivellus's life during and after Hogwarts a living hell.

Signed (in no significant order),


Remus smiled again, and the words of only a few minutes ago overtook his mind.

He stuck with his friends.