Both Sirius and James sat in stunned silence, the journal's revelations swirling in their minds like a maelstrom. The idea that Avalon was not only the birthplace of magic but also a crossroads between worlds and timelines—teeming with elves, orcs, and countless other magical beings—was almost too much to fathom. The tales of the Dark Lord Sarkon, the Five Heroes, and the clandestine world of The Congregation and Clans—it was a storm of information that left both boys grappling with disbelief.
Sirius finally broke the silence, throwing up his hands in exasperation. "So, let me get this straight—our oh-so-legendary Founders didn't just attend some ordinary magical school like the rest of us. Oh no, that'd be too simple! They were off gallivanting in some mythical place called Avalon, rubbing elbows with elves, orcs, and—what's next? Dragons hosting tea parties?" He leaned back against the bedpost, shaking his head with an incredulous snort. "Honestly, sounds like a load of dragon dung if you ask me."
James shot him a sharp look, though his lips twitched with amusement. "Oh, come off it, Sirius. You've got to admit, it's fascinating," he said, tapping the journal. "Elves, orcs, clans, this… Congregation business—it's all here, plain as day. And don't even get me started on this Vis Vitalis thing. Enhancement magic, mate. Actual bloody enhancement magic. Imagine what else we don't know."
Sirius folded his arms, still looking dubious. "And you think it's all true? All this talk of ancient magic and secret worlds? Seems like a bit of a stretch, doesn't it?"
James leaned forward; his voice steady. "Think about it, Sirius. Why would someone go to all this trouble—write all these details, draw all these diagrams—if it wasn't true? There's no proof it's fake. And besides," he added with a wry grin, "since when have you not been up for a bit of mystery?"
Sirius considered this, his skepticism wavering as he glanced back at the journal. "Alright, I'll give you that," he said begrudgingly. "Still sounds mad, though. But," he added with a mischievous glint in his eye, "if there are dragons making tea somewhere, I call dibs on the biscuits."
James leaned back. "And if it's real… it means there's far more to magic—and to the Founders—than we've ever been taught."
It was then the sound of crunching broke the tense air, drawing the boys' attention. Their heads whipped to the right, only to find Peter standing there, peering over their shoulders at the book. His fingers were covered in crumbs as he shoved another handful of crisps into his mouth, chewing noisily. He froze when their eyes met.
"Well, don't stop on my account," he said, his voice muffled by a mouthful of crisps.
Both Sirius and James let out startled screams, jumping back in shock. Peter yelped in response, dropping his crisps. The commotion startled Remus awake.
"What in the name of Merlin's saggy pants?!" Remus exclaimed, ripping off his eye mask and sitting up with a glare. "What the bloody Hell are you lot doing up at this hour?!"
James held a hand to his chest, catching his breath. "Peter, you ruddy sneak! Nearly gave me a heart attack!"
Sirius flopped back onto the bed, groaning. "Of course, it's Wormtail. Can't even have a proper mystery without you lurking about."
Peter raised his hands defensively, crumbs still clinging to his fingers. "What? I heard you two whispering about Avalon and thought it sounded interesting!" He blinked, his curiosity getting the better of him again. "So… what's the book about then?"
James sighed. "Well..."
****
Remus fixed both Sirius and James with a levelled stare as Peter casually tore open a new bag of crisps, the crunching sound filling the room like an unwelcome soundtrack to the conversation.
"So…" Remus began, his tone exasperated. "You're telling me James found a journal left behind by the Four Founders—yes, those Founders—and somehow, it says they went to some magical school in some magical place none of us have ever heard of called Avalon? Do correct me if I'm wrong."
James shook his head firmly. "Nope, that's it. Spot on."
"Believe me, Moony, I'm as flummoxed as you are," Sirius added, leaning back against the headboard, arms crossed.
"And this Avalon," Remus continued, "has flying airships powered by magic, people with animal features, and Godric Gryffindor—the Godric Gryffindor—wielding some sort of ancient magic that lets him move faster than light while dueling in a shadow organization hidden within the school?" His eyebrows raised slightly as if daring them to refute him.
Both Sirius and James nodded solemnly.
Peter, unfazed, stuffed another handful of crisps into his mouth, speaking through a full mouth. "I think it's absolutely wicked."
Remus sighed heavily, pinching the bridge of his nose as if trying to stave off a headache. "James… are you absolutely certain that book came from the Restricted Section and not, I don't know, the fantasy aisle at Flourish and Blotts?"
Sirius snorted, barely holding back laughter. "Oh, come on, Moony. Where's your sense of adventure?"
Remus shot him a glare. "I left it back in the common-sense aisle."
"Remus, I know what you're thinking—this is absolutely bonkers," James said, leaning forward, his excitement barely contained.
"James, this ain't just bonkers, mate; it's completely mental!" Remus retorted, throwing up his hands. "You expect me to believe there's a hidden magical world none of us know about? A place with elves, dwarves, and—what's next? The Loch Ness Monster?"
"Nessie is real, mate," Peter chimed in, crunching loudly on his crisps.
"Shut it, Pettigrew! Nobody asked you," Remus snapped, shooting Peter an exasperated glance as the boy stuffed another handful of crisps into his mouth. He turned back to James, his brow furrowed in a mixture of disbelief and irritation. "James… Prongs, please tell me you're not actually buying into this hoopla?"
"Look, this isn't just some fancy bedtime fairy tale. Look at the details in this journal. The handwriting alone is so distinct, so deliberate—it's practically shouting authenticity."
Remus rolled his eyes, running a hand through his messy hair. "Authenticity? It's shouting something alright. Namely, someone's had a bit too much Firewhisky and fancied themselves a storyteller."
James pressed on, undeterred. "But what if is real? What if everything in this book is the true story the Founders wanted to leave behind? Wouldn't you want to know the truth? Wouldn't everyone?"
Remus hesitated, his frown faltering. "I'll admit… if this is real, it would rewrite everything we know about the wizarding world. But it's a massive leap, James—a massive leap."
"Ah, but isn't that what makes it exciting?" Sirius cut in, grinning as if he'd just been handed the best prank idea of his life. "The sheer madness of it all. And who better to uncover the truth than us?"
Peter nodded eagerly, crumbs tumbling from his mouth as he jabbed a finger at the book, his words like gobbledygook, spilling out in an unintelligible flurry.
"Merlin's beard, Wormtail!" Sirius groaned, brushing crumbs off his sleeve with exaggerated disdain. "Chew, then talk. You're worse than a Niffler at a feast."
Peter swallowed hard; his amber eyes wide with excitement. "I was saying," he finally managed, gesturing emphatically at the journal, "this is incredible! It's like finding buried treasure, yeah? We've got to read more!"
Remus sighed deeply, pinching the bridge of his nose as though it might stave off the headache this conversation was giving him. "If we're meant to be the ones solving this mystery, then may God help us all—we're doomed."
James's grin widened as he flipped to the next page, his fingers brushing over the delicate parchment. "Doomed or not, Moony, this is going to be bloody brilliant," he said, his tone practically dripping with excitement. He glanced up at Remus with a mischievous glint in his eye. "So… do you want to know what happens next?"
Remus let out a long-suffering sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose. "I'm going to regret this in the morning, aren't I?" Despite his protest, he perched himself on the edge of the bed, folding his arms. "Well… go on then. Let's hear it."
James shot Sirius a triumphant look before turning his attention back to the journal. The flickering light of his wand illuminated the worn pages, the elegant handwriting drawing them all closer like moths to a flame.
"Right then," James began, his voice taking on a theatrical tone.
As James's words filled the room, the Marauders felt the pull of the story. It wasn't just a journal—it was a window into a world they had never imagined, one that seemed impossibly real and irresistibly magical. And as they leaned closer to the pages, the night stretched on, the mysteries of Avalon and the Four Founders slowly beginning to unfold.