This is pretty much as the title implies. At school, we had to write six word memoirs, which I loved reading, and one of my friends wrote this one - she used to wear suspenders all the time (still does actually). So, I wrote this sometime last year, had it hanging around for a while, and just decided to finish it. It's a oneshot, so I won't be continuing it. So read, review, etc, etc, etc...

Suspenders hold up pants and conversations.

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter

"Oi! Watch it!"

"Sorry," a pink-haired girl stood behind him, grinning at him as if she were a Cheshire cat (who just caught the canary). And she was practically screaming at him, the loud trains roaring in the background forcing her to raise her voice. "I couldn't resist!"

Harry, to his own surprise, pouted like a petulant child. "You're just jealous." Yup. There was the child-like words (thems' fighten' words') with the stubborn tilt of the chin to go with it. It was her fault that he was acting like an unruly child, she shouldn't have – "what's your name?" Goddamn curiosity streak… It got him every time.

"Call me Tonks," She – Tonks – told him (insanely bright and chipper… and still loud, a train just pulled in behind him – and should he be standing with his back to the rails with a strange teenager before him? Ehh….).

She casually snapped him out of his revere as she yanked his trolley out of his hands – "Hey!" Harry cried out as he raced after her, "That's mine! Careful!" – and she pushed it away from the side of the tracks where they had been standing, leading them both toward the bench beneath the sign for platform 9. The very same platform that Harry'd been staking out since four o'clock that morning. The Dursley's had no qualms about 'dropping him off a bit early.' Idiots.

A woman sat on the bench that they approached. She seemed regal – nice, designer clothes fit nicely onto her slim body; and her hair done up in a thick, elaborate, inky braid – and she was the complete opposite of the two children in front of her.

Harry pulled at his shabby clothes in embarrassment.

"Hi, Mom! This is… err…" She pushed the cart off to the side, shielding their toes from view as she attempted to (subtly) grab his attention (by continuously hitting his foot with her steel toe boots – needless to say, it worked). "What's your name again?"

At the stage whisper, Harry couldn't help but smile, it was oddly comical. "Harry."

"Harry!" She continued (quite loudly) as if she hadn't paused in her previous sentence. Several people boarding their train paused to give the trio nervous glances. "Seems to be lost! Thought I'd help." She patted his head indulgently.

The Boy-Who-Lived hated being treated as a child – or worse, a dog. Ripper took away all the excitement.

"Ignore her Harry," the woman told him kindly as he swatted her hand away from his tortured noggin, "she can be rather strange."

"Oi! I'm not strange! He's the one wearing suspenders!"

Harry smiled weakly as she pointed at him. He was, indeed, wearing suspenders. They were a soft brown color (a camouflage he used to call it) but the purple along the edges ruined the effect of blending in – but at least they were dark purple (that was his favorite counter argument). No matter how strange they looked with his apparel, Harry loved them – that and they were able to keep his hand me down clothes up that way. "She pulled on them," that was a weak protest – he should never be permitted to open his mouth again – it'd save lots of trouble.

"Probably just jealous," Tonks' mom told him with a small, amused, smile, "now do you need any help–"

"But I want to know why he's wearing suspenders!"

"Shush you maleficent, evil little thing," the woman turned back to Harry, "Do you need any help with anything darling?" She eyed his hand-me-down (he likes to stress that part) clothes. A faded blue shirt (only slightly large since Harry managed to shrink it in the wash without his aunts knowledge), old grass stained jeans, and his handy suspenders. He had worn his school shoes here (they actually fit). "You're a bit young to be here on your own."

"I need to – to get on the Hogwarts Express!" He sidestepped her question with ease, although the tears… took a bit to force 'em out. "But I don't know how!"

The two of them shared a knowing look. "I figured as much cutie."

"H-how?" A tremor escaped his mouth, surprised at being caught off guard. He'd actually tried to hide the fact that he was a wizard – hiding his clothes, and supplies, and wand, and cauldron, and – Tonks' mom stood up (how she could look that regal with the pink haired kid he didn't know), and she wiped some (Harry was positive it was imaginary) dirt off from her skirt.

"Your owl."

He felt his face burn up, the beginning of embarrassment and shame welled up inside him – her casual tone only made it ten times worse. Harry looked down again, examining his shoes – their shineyness dulled a bit.

He knew that he forgot something… He really should've realized that normal people (muggles, Hagrid called them) did not walk around with an owl (snowy white) on a regular occasion. He must've looked like a freak. And he'd get sent right back to the Dursley's, never allowed to go and learn wizard things… He sniffled.

Tonks, immediately recognized the symptoms of his mini breakdown, and jumped in to dispel his distress with a quick flick of her wrist. "Gak!" The black-haired boy spun around towards her at the angry snapping sound. "Stop that will you!"

If she snapped his suspenders one more time…

"It's easy to get onto the platform," the woman (Tonks' mother) told him, breaking up their quarrel before it started. She slapped her daughter's wand arm. "You've just got to run between the barrier of platforms nine and ten."

"What?" He stared at her blankly, moving his gaze to the eerily solid wall a few several feet away.

"It's easy," the teenager told him, suspender incident forgotten (for now), as she walked confidently in front of him, "I'll go first."

He numbly watched her with wide eyes as she ran toward the wall and – disappeared. "How–"

"Just run straight through," her mother took the trolley from him carefully, maneuvering it so that he had more room to run, without having to carry around a ten-ton trunk, "It's easy, you can even walk through if you want – you've just got to will yourself through – don't falter. It never turns out well when you falter."

"Why is it you run then?"

His tremulous voice betrayed his overwhelming doubt, he'd run, and he'd run – straight into the wall. He could always walk. That way, he'd just be able to walk through. He'd never have to worry about running into a brick wall and looking like an idiot in front of all these strangers and break his nose and go to the hospital and–

"If you don't think, or want, yourself to go through, you won't go through." Mrs. Tonks' mom said with a smile, leaning against his trolley, she glanced at the clock a few platforms down. "It's all about intent. And it's found that when you run straight at a brick wall, you're more likely to will, or want, yourself to go through. Less slamming into walls that way."

"Err…" Harry moved toward the wall with that in mind. Did she really have to tell him right before he was to go onto the platform? That would not end up well. Did he want to go through? Well, sure. Err… maybe.

His odd shuffle escalated with his thoughts, moving toward the wall at a speed walk. Then at a run. He was barely a foot away from the wall when he realized what he'd done.

Emerald eyes slammed shut, his stride never breaking (it was too late anyway – either way he'd look stupid, might as well go full out for stupidity), and the same mantra repeated in his head – don't let me crash, don't let me crash, don't let me crash…

"Gak!" And he crashed.

This was just great (he mentally refused to open his eyes). He was going to hear the jeers and cheers and laughter and merriment from the surrounding people. He ran into a brick wall (not that this was the first time… he'd run into brick walls before – even without Dudley's help). Hello Embarrassment! Enjoy your stay? I have a feeling you'll be there for a while.

A small bubble of laughter rang out.

Harry felt his stomach drop.

He had realized that it had happened (although he wished it didn't… at least it was a soft wall) but he hoped against hope that he wasn't hallucinating.

He refused to listen to the voices in his head to watch the non-existent people walking around. This wasn't Alice in Wonderland after all – although to him he very well could be, he thought (vainly attempting to ignore the echoing laughter), the wizarding world was all very new to him. This could all just be like some big Wonderland. That'd be so cool….

"Easy there," he opened his eyes, time seeming to speed up around him. Tonks' laid eagle spread before him, attempting to qualm her giggles. "You're going to have to be more careful – just be lucky that we're early."

But Harry wasn't listening to her anymore (although he should have apologized for running straight into her – guessed that he should've been thankful that her mother took his cart for him… that was probably the reason anyways…), he was gazing around the large, carnovous room. It's ceiling stretched for what seemed like miles, the empty, clean floors sparkled in the sun shining through the open, windowed roof (a few owls sitting along the rafters, presumably waiting for their masters), and the large, colorful train stretched down the tracks, disappearing with the length, it's reddish hue gleaming in the sunshine.

Europhia claimed him.

"This is brilliant." He breathed softly.

"Yeah, well, thanks for helping me up," she said in amusement, hefting herself up as he spun around, a sheepish, worried smile gracing his face.

He automatically turned toward her. "I'm sorry." He spewed out quickly, horrified.

" 's fine." She waved him off easily, grabbing his proffered hand as she helped him to his feet, "but it's a beauty isn't it?" He dumbly nodded his head, gazing around the room, holding her hand like a small child. "That's why we always come in early – well that and your little episode right there," she winked at him conspirically as he sent her a quick look, "it's usually me running into people."

He laughed. " 'm sorry 'bout that…" he turned his head away from her, his face burning.

"And here I thought my little Nymphadora was clumsy." Both kids jumped in surprise. Harry tried to spin around, only succeeding in loosing his footing, falling backward – and Tonks (Dora) grabbed hold of his suspenders (she did that on purpose) in order to keep him in the air. She toppled down with him.

"Mum!" Tonks cried out from her new place on the floor, now on her stomach instead of her back, "Don't call me that!"

Tonks' mother strolled toward them easily, elegantly pushing Harry's school books in a way that he would never achieve (and he didn't know how she achieved that, the elegance seemed out of place in a shoddy old train station – and Tonks was the complete opposite). "Careful now," she told them, pointedly ignoring Tonks' (Nymphadora's?) previous exclamation, "don't want you to break a bone."

"We won't break anything ma'am," Harry told her quickly before Tonks could explode (successfully avoiding the oncoming argument), "and I'm sorry for crashing into you…" he smiled at the girl beside him – her red hair turned back to pink as she calmed down (Harry assumed it was some kind of charm – he'd have to find that).

"No problemo kiddo!" She grinned at him (also managing to avoid looking at her mother as she glanced around the platform – Mrs. Tonks found that insanely amusing). "Like I said, there's a reason that we leave early – I'm usually the one running into people."

"I've gotta' head out now," Mrs. Tonks cut across their conversation, glancing at the clock. Tonks stood to give her mother a tight hug, she returned it, "there's a party that I've gotta' prepare for–"

"Oi!" Tonks ripped herself away from her mother, "I always knew that you celebrated each time I left!" She huffed as she took a couple steps away from the 'evil she-woman'.

"And if you need anything, Harry, you can always send me a letter – Andromeda Tonks, you got that? – your owl will be able to find me." Hedwig hooted softly from her cage, ruffling her feathers proudly.

Harry shot her a look, that arrogant little thing could take everything in stride and deal with it as if it were merely a pest and – no! Not the eyes! Those goddamn big puppy – err… – owl eyes! He twisted uncomfortably. "Yeah, sure, Mrs. Tonks…" he moved to take his trolley back, grasping the handle with one of his hands. "Thanks for everything."

"Anything Harry," she told him sternly, allowing him to take the trolley back. Her expression lightened, "Dora can help you get settled."

With that, Harry watched as Andromeda Tonks left with a kiss to her daughter's cheek and a small wave before passing through the barrier that they used to get into the platform.

He turned to see Tonks glaring at the empty spot her mother had been before turning to face him with a bright smile on her face, "C'mon," (she said it a tad too brightly), "you're sitting with me today!"

"Huh?" His blank stare turned into amazement as she levitated his trunk toward the train, Hedwig hooting angrily from her perch on top. Harry was sure that, if she were able, she'd have left the cage and flew off, "Wicked! How'd you do that?"

Tonks maneuvered it through one of the open doors on the train and set it down onto the ground (which seemed to appease Hedwig slightly), before turning back to her own trunk and proceeded to repeat the performance and set it down next to Harry's on the floor. "It's quite easy – you'll be learning it in a couple of months. Usually sometime in October or November."

"Could you show me?" Harry asked as he jumped onto the train. Tonks followed swiftly.

"Sure," she hefted her trunk up and moved forward, rolling it along behind her. Harry followed her example, one hand holding onto Hedwig's cage as he tried not to jostle her too much. "Technically you're not allowed to do magic over the summer, but I'm 17."

Harry knitted his brow in confusion, "So?"

"Seventeen is the legal age for wizards," Tonks told him, pushing open the carriage door and walking into the compartment, "once you hit maturity – 17 – you're allowed to do magic outside of school."

"Oh?"

"And as a seventeen year old," she spun around, pushing him back onto his rear as she prevented him from putting his trunk away, "I've got several important… things, I've gotta do."

"Err…" He wasn't sure if he should ask… she had an odd glint in her eye, towering over him as if he was merely a peasant – it was quite intimidating. "And… um…" he licked his lips, "What are they?"

Her strange expression disappeared, "I'm glad you asked," she spun around, walking toward the seat. She settled down, situating herself in order to be sure that she'd be comfortable before looking over at the boy through appraising eyes. "You see, sometime during ones school career, you must adopt a cute, little child and teach them the ways of the world – the more insane the better!"

"The ways of the world or the little child?" Harry cut in.

"Either."

"Alright then," he could understand that.

"And you," she said, forgoing the lecture that she had planned (she forgot it anyway), and cut straight to the chase, "are going to be my little adoptee."

Harry held a finger, "Wait a minute," that was all well and good and everything but… "I can't be."

Tonks looked rather put out, "Why not?"

"I don't fit the requirements that you told me."

"How so…?" Tonks asked after a pause, staring at him as if to determine what his game was, she gave him a once over, he would fit the requirements perfectly…

"You said you needed to adopt a cute, little child," he told her promptly, there was no reason to drag this out, "and I am not a little child."

Tonks opened her mouth to say something, before closing it abruptly, quelling the urge to burst out laughing. Little ickle firsties were always so adorable…. "Well, you see," she said, wondering how to break it to an eleven year old that he looked like a eight year old with big green eyes, "you fit the bill perfectly. You're a first year, wearing suspenders – even though you grew up in the muggle world – and you're a scrawny little runt."

"Am not!"

"I'm sorry to break it to you," she said, turning her hair into a soft lavender color, "but it had to be done, but don't worry – you make it work. We'll have all the teachers eating it like candy within a week. Well," she added after a thought, "except for Snape, but he's a git anyways."

"Am not," Harry muttered petulantly. He wasn't a tiny little runt. He was small for his age (a foot shorter than the shortest kid in his class last year, and the year before that and the year before that – he could go on), but he wasn't that short.

"Don't worry kid," Tonks said, moving to look out the window as she heard the starts of conversation, and sure enough, another family was moving along the platform, "like I said, we can use it to our advantage, now – onto the fun stuff."

The raven haired eleven year-old glanced up at the girl wearily. She grinned. "Don't give me that look," she said, "I've got bunches that I've got to teach you, and we've got a few hours – the whole train ride really, to get started."

"Can we start with the levitation charm?" Harry asked.

"I was more or less thinking about the pros and cons about suspenders – I mean, they're just plain awesome, but we need some charms on those things so that they can't be used against you."

"Don't worry bout that," Harry said grinning, "this will be all the rage over in France in a month, I'm telling you."

"I wouldn't put you past it," Tonks said, waving her hand around, "You are famous after all."

"Hey, be glad I'm not wearing pants made out of stuffed animals' like that one rock star person that I saw on the TV."

Both of them were silent for a moment before Tonks caught Harry's eye, "Why aren't you?" She asked slowly.

"I don't know…" he said back, just as slowly.

As the starts of conversation grew, Harry couldn't help himself – a large grin spread across his face; this would be an awesome school year if he had anything to say about it.