Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. I am glad I don't, because if I did I wouldn't be able to go shopping without people recognising me.

I would like to say that, in this story, and in my story 'I Am', I am totally ignoring the whole of the sixth book, especially certain things to do with Tonks and my favourite character (Die Tonks Die) except for the spells, 'cos they're useful, and Lily being good at Potions. If I can think of anything else I'm not ignoring, although there won't be much, I'll put it down here. Unfortunately, this means that my story is now an AU, but it wasn't when I first thought of it.
Thanks for reading this, if you did.

Lost

Chapter 1 -Here

"Kids! Hurry up, we've got go in fifteen minutes, and you haven't had your breakfasts yet!" Sighing, Birch Potter turned back to the cooker, knowing it was probably pointless to try and make them get ready faster.

"Mum, Hazel's hogging the bathroom!"

"Oh please, James. Just use your own."

"But the shower's broken again!"

"Use ours then."

"Fine." James stomped off down the corridor, narrowly avoiding his older brother Michael, a fifth year Ravenclaw, who was running at full speed towards the staircase. Jumping on the bannister, he slid down quickly, call as he went, "Mum, have you seen my Standard Book of Spells Grade 5? I must've left it somewhere…"

"It's over there, darling." Birch waved vaguely to the huge dining table without looking, the main part of her concentration focused on the large griddle of sizzling bacon rashers before her.

"Why's it there!"

"Because, dummy, you were reading it last night at tea." Hazel walked into the large kitchen, towelling her long black hair dry, dressed in jeans and a black T-shirt.

"Oh yeah. Thanks mum."

"No problem. Look after the bacon for a moment, will you, I need to find your father."

"Why, what's he doing?"

"Trying to find the Floo powder. We're going to Floo to the Leaky Cauldron, then walk from there."

A shout from James came down the stairs. "Aww, but mum, the trunks'll be really heavy!"

Birch sighed again as she crossed the room to the study door. "James, we have these things called wands, remember?"

"Oh yeah…"

Reaching the study door, Birch called through it. "Harold, have you found the Floo powder yet?"

"It should be on my desk somewhere, but…" There was a noise like a small avalanche, as masses of paper collapsed onto the floor. "Ah, there it is!"

He held up a small, bejewelled green pot triumphantly.

"Good, dear. Now are you going to come and have some breakfast?"

He followed her eagerly out of the study. "Mmm, bacon, my favourite."

At that moment, James came thundering down the stairs, his wet black hair disarrayed and sticking up at the back.

Finally, all were seated round the dining table, including 3-year-old Willow, giggling and rocking in her high chair as she gazed in adoration at her sister, who was attempting to get her to eat.

"Look Willow, bacon, yum yum! I'll bet you're really hungry, yeah…?"

"No. No, don't want foo'. Wanna wanna…" she paused for a moment as her brown eyes searched the room. Finally, her eyes widened as she caught sight of Merlin, the family's pet tabby cat, attempting to creep around the corner unseen.

"Kitty! Want Merlin!"

"Look, Twig, you're going to have to eat something. And you're not eating poor Merlin, before you ask."

Ten minutes later, the family had finished their breakfasts, and were stood as a group in front of one of the largest fireplaces in the dining room.

"Ok, Michael first."

Taking the pot of Floo powder from his father's hand, he withdrew from it a sparkling pinch, and threw it into the flames, which turned emerald green. Michael stepped into them, tucking his elbows in tight, and shouting, "The Leaky Cauldron!" Next went Harold, with Michael's and Hazel's suitcases. After him, Hazel, then James, scowling because he had to carry his own trunk, then finally Birch, holding Willow on her hip, and attempting to block the soot from her daughter's face.

Gathering round the suitcases, Birch and Harold took their wands out, muttering 'Pennaleva' to make the cases feather light, as James checked his magically-powered watch, a present for his tenth birthday.

"We've got about quarter of an hour until the train goes."

"We're going to have to hurry, then. Take your cases, kids, they're fine now."

Saying goodbye and thank you for the use of his fireplace to Tom, the owner of the pub, the children's father headed the party out of the door.

Walking down the platforms, pulling their cases behind them and having to pretend they were heavy, they reached the barrier between Platform 9 and Platform 10.

"Here we are then. Right, Hazel and James first, and try to look inconspicuous, will you?"

Leaning casually against the barrier, they slipped through it and out onto Platform 9 ¾. There was a huge crowd gathered down the accessible side of the train, shouting and waving to their children and siblings as they entered the train, or leaned out of their windows, waving back.

The rest of the family through, Hazel and James were starting to feel increasingly more and more nervous. Their first day at the fabled Hogwarts!

Climbing onto the train after Michael, who had gone off with some of his friends to the other end of the train, they heard their parents shouting to them over the melee, "Have a great time! Don't worry about your owls, we'll send them on tomorrow!"

James led the way down the narrow but richly furnished corridor. Peering through window after window, he couldn't find one compartment that wasn't full of unfamiliar, older faces. Looking through the next one, however, James saw only one person, a boy of about his own age with black hair and his back turned, staring dejectedly out of the window with his chin on his hand as the landscape sped by.

"Haze, there's only one person in here. Wanna try?"

"Yeah, go in."

James slid the door back, and walked in, his still feather-light case trundling after him. The other boy glanced up.

"Oh…hi."

"Hi, I'm James, this is my sister Hazel. Can we sit in here?"

"Sure, go ahead."

Hazel lifted the feather-light cases on one finger and stowed them in the roof rack.

James leant forward and squinted slightly at Sirius. Sirius shifted uncomfortably. "What?"

James turned to his sister. "Doesn't he look kind of familiar to you?"

Hazel looked over. "Yeah, I know what you mean. What's your name?"

"Sirius Black."

"Of course! Remember, James, that function thingy mum and dad took us to last February? He was sitting further down the table on the other side." James nodded in agreement.

Sirius replied. "Oh yeah, I had to go and sit with my parents. They wouldn't let me escape." He rolled his eyes. "What's your surname?"

"Potter", they said in unison.

"Yeah, I've heard my parents talk about yours. They see them sometimes at those kind of dos."

What Sirius didn't mention was that nothing his parents, or rather his mother, had said about the Potters was, in her eyes, good. 'Bunch of muggle-loving blood traitors was one of the most common ones, along with 'disgrace to the name of wizard' and 'disgusting, the way a decent family has its name trodden in mud by its children'; the last one was usually accompanied with a long glare at Sirius.

In fact, the last thing his mother had said to him (well, almost the last…) was "and don't go getting mixed up with those Potter children – I hear two more are starting this year." Sirius had decided then that he had to get to know them – and wasn't he making a good start?

The last thing she'd actually said to him was "You little hooligan! You get back here and – aagh!" You'd think she'd appreciate a skunk in her handbag…it smelt better than her normal perfume, probably literally 'eau de toilette'…

There came a knock at the door. It slid open, and a boy with dishevelled sandy hair and the most beautiful pair of amber-brown eyes Hazel had ever seen walked in, dragging a battered case with cardboard corners and tied round with string behind him. A smaller boy was following him, also with a trunk, who had mousy blonde hair and looked quite badly shaken. The first boy spoke. "Um, hi, um, can we sit in here? Just, well, there's nowhere else, and we just kind of got attacked."

Hazel blinked and realised she was staring. "Yeah, of course you can. Want some help with the trunks?" She stood up, smoothing down her black hair.

"Thanks. They're, um, a bit heavy though, watch it." Taking one end of his case, then the other boy's, each, they lifted them onto the magically expanding roof rack. Sitting down shyly next to Hazel, the boy missed the glare he received from James, sitting opposite him.

Sirius butted in. "So, you going to tell us who attacked you? And what are your names?"

The boy looked round. "Sorry, yeah, I'm being rude. I'm Remus Lupin." The boy said awkwardly.

Hazel smiled. "Nice name."

"Thanks."

The smaller, mousy-haired boy said "My n-name's Peter P-Pettigrew." He looked beseechingly towards Remus, and slumped down in the corner seat. Remus nodded. "Yeah, the attack. Well, Peter here had accidentally tripped up an older student, Slytherin, I think, with his trunk. They started sending spells at him – don't know what though – but I'd just come round the corner and I helped make excuses."

"Cool."

A few hours later, the talk had turned to families.

"What's your family like, then, Remus?"

"Um, well, I'm a half-blood, my mum's a witch but my dad's a muggle. I haven't got any brothers or sisters. What about you?"

"Pureblood, I've got two brothers, James here and Michael, he's a fifth year, in Ravenclaw, and a little sister, three years old, called Willow."

"Wow. It must be really nice to have brothers and sisters."

"Yeah, well, they're not all they're cracked up to be. Sometimes – most of the time – they can be really annoying." Hazel leaned across and punched her brother on the arm, disturbing him from talking to Sirius.

"Hey! Quit it!" he said, rubbing his arm.

Hazel grinned. "What about you, Peter?"

The mousy-haired boy looked up. "My…my dad's dead, h – he was a wizard…my mum's a Muggle, I've got no brothers or sisters."

"Right…um…Sirius?"

Sirius looked over from a heated debate with James about the best model of racing broom. "Huh? My parents? They're bloody awful. Expect me to be a perfect little Slytherin. I've got one brother, Regulus; he'll start Hogwarts in two years. He's a little toerag too." Sirius went back to his conversation. "The Shooting Star III, it's got to be. The aerodynamics…"

A few minutes later, the door slid open, and a dark-haired head poked into the compartment. "Hey, here you are! Blimey, I've been looking for you everywhere, I was right down the other end of the train!" James and Hazel's brother Michael came in, and sat down next to James. "So, how are you doing? I promised mum and dad I'd come and check on you."

James shook his head in mock disappointment. "Oh, so it wasn't just brotherly love for your siblings, it was orders? Tch, tch."

"Yeah, whatever, little bro. I see you've met lots of people…Sirius Black, right?" He pointed to Sirius in the corner.

Sirius nodded. "Yeah."

"I thought so, you look a bit like your cousins."

Sirius scowled. "Oh. Them."

There was a commotion further down the corridor, and a loud bang echoed through the train. Michael stood up quickly, as laughter followed the bang. "Gotta go, guys, I'm missing all the action. See you at school!"

He opened the door, walked out quickly out into the narrow corridor, then halted for a moment and turned back round. "Sorry, I forgot. You'd better put your robes on, we'll arrive in a few hours." He turned again, and jogged down the corridor towards his laughing friends and a now empty box of Zonko's fireworks. A wisp of smoke from the recent explosion drifted in. Hazel opened the window, shaking her head. "He'd better hope he doesn't get a Howler from mum again. He'll be in trouble before term's even started!"

Peter looked around. "Shouldn't we do as he say, put our robes on?" James nodded. "Yeah, I suppose." Trunks were lifted down off the rack, the Potters' growing slightly heavier as the feather-light charm wore off. Pulling on their robes, they wondered between themselves what houses they would be in. "I hope we'll be in Gryffindor. Most of our family has been – either Gryffindor, or Ravenclaw like Michael – mum and dad were both in Gryffindor." Sirius nodded, looking disgruntled. "Yeah, well, I hope I don't follow my family. Who wants to be a stinking Slytherin? And I can't honestly see what's so bad about Muggles, I mean, Ok they don't know any magic, but they can't really help that, can they? Of course, I can't say that kind of thing at home – mummy and daddy dearest wouldn't be too happy about it." He paused for a moment. "What about you two then?" he said, pointing to Remus and Peter. "Any idea what houses you'll be in?"

"Not really. I think my mum was a Hufflepuff, but I'm not sure."

"I – I'll probably be in a rubbish house. I'm no good at magic, really."

Sirius grinned at him, feeling slightly sorry for the shy-looking boy. "Don't worry, you won't be in a rubbish house. Slytherin's the worst house, definitely, and I doubt you'll be in that."

Later…but still on the Hogwarts Express…

Sirius had dug his wand out of his trunk, intending to show the group a spell he had been practising. "Look…" He flicked through The Standard Book Of Spells: Grade 1, until he found the right page. "Right, here we are. Levitation of inanimate objects. Ok…" He swished and flicked his wand, as he cried, "Wingardium Leviosa!" and pointed it at an empty inkwell he had placed on the compartment floor. Nothing happened. Sirius cheeks started to flush a little. He peered at the book again, muttering to himself, "I'm sure I'm doing it right…" His eyes widened as he caught one paragraph, entitled 'Pronunciation'. He tried again. "Wingardium Leviosa!" This time, the inkwell rose slowly from the floor, until it hovered awkwardly a foot from the ground. The other occupants of the compartment clapped and applauded. "Great! That's a really good spell, I'll have to try that one myself!"

James questioned Sirius, "What kind of wand's that? Mine's mahogany, eleven inches, dragon heartstring core."

Sirius replied, attempting to clean it slightly. "Ten inches, maple, dragon heartstring too." He looked about. "What about the rest of you?"

Hazel replied, "Thirteen inches, ebony and phoenix feather. It took me ages to find the right one, I was in there for about two hours, remember, James?"

James nodded. "Yeah, Mr. Ollivander said that's the longest a wand choosing had ever taken!"

Remus glanced towards his trunk, where his wand was tucked away safely in an inner pocket. "Mine's twelve and a half inches, holly and unicorn tail hair."

Peter looked up from whatever private thoughts he was having. "Um…elm and unicorn hair, nine inches."

About half an hour later, Sirius stuck his head out of the open window, and caught his first glimpse of Hogsmeade station, still in the distance as of yet, but getting closer by the second. "Hey guys, look! We're almost there!" The group crowded round, sticking their heads out of the window. Further down the train, more windows were opened, and heads appeared at many.

Their first day at the fabled Hogwarts. And now they were almost there.

Wow that was a long chapter! I'll say now - the other chapters probably won't be quite as long, but I'll try to keep them as long as I can, cos I know it sucks to just have millions of tiny chapters.