Harry Potter was feeling blue. His relatives had not been happy to drop him off at Kings Cross, not at all. Harry Potter had been quietly delivered a letter months ago, by a rather persistent owl. First, it approached him as he was walking back from the library. When that proved to be unsuccessful, is attempted to knock on the window as he was preparing breakfast for his relatives. Aunt Petunia screeched and shooed it away before he could do so himself. Finally, it alighted on his arm when he was weeding the garden and refused to leave until Harry took the heavy envelope. After he retrieved the folded parchment, the owl gave a cheerful hoot and flew off. It took Harry another week to remember to open the envelope and see what they wanted.
Magic. He, Harry no-name Potter, son of two drunks, nephew to Vernon and Petunia Dursley, was a wizard. After he got over the shock and disbelief, he realized that the Dursleys would never let him go. Not unless he forced them to. So, Harry hatched a plan.
The plan culminated in his being dropped off here, Kings Cross Station, with an old trunk he found in the attic. Said trunk had belonged to his mother, judging by the plate attached beneath the lid. Inside was his greatest treasures, his parents' old school supplies. It also happened to be all he had. In order to force the Dursleys into letting him go to Hogwarts, he had no time to even attempt to find the missing supplies that were not in the trunk. He was optimistic. Two months ago, he was just another unwanted boy living with his relatives. Now, he was Harry Potter- sorcerer supreme! He dragged his trunk towards the platforms, reasoning out that 9 ¾ would be near 9 and 10, as long as his math was right. Sure enough, harry caught sight of a few people ducking into the pillar between platforms 9 and 10. He followed the discreet crowd, and found himself in a whole new world.
Billowing white smoke blew away to reveal a scarlet engine with a long line of carriages behind it. Harry dodged and weaved past all of the families and their tearful goodbyes, careful not to look to closely at what he had lost due to his parents' foolishness. He managed to work his way past the crowd and tried to load his trunk onto the train. Tried being the operative word.
Lily potter had not been a first year when she last used the trunk. No, Lily potter had been a seventh-year witch, head girl to boot. Her trunk was full of books accumulated over seven years, and some of the Marauders old equipment. And Lily, being seventeen at her graduation, had no compunction against casting a featherlight charm whenever she needed to move the trunk. This left her son, a scrawny and underfed first year, unable to lever up the muscle to lift said trunk two vertical feet onto the train. (Indeed, it had turned Uncle Vernon's face quite puce as he sputtered to move it into and out of the boot of the car.) Harry Potter, sorcerer supreme, needed help.
The train gave a shrill whistle, and the mighty engine started puffing, the wheels turning.
"Last call for Hogwarts!" a man shouted through the smoke.
Harry panicked, seeing his chances at a future start to leave without him. Just as he was about to lose hope, a family of redheads shot through the portal and sprinted for the train. The lead, a tall, thin boy turned around after he got onto the train and flicked his wand. The trunks that the others had been lugging shot forwards as if tugged by a leash. Quick as they could, the five ducked onto the train. The youngest boy hopped up, followed by his sister. The last two were standing on the edge when they must have heard his calls.
"Help!" he shouted over the blasts of the trains whistle. The platform was running out of space. The two boys jumped back off the train and sprinted for him, meeting him and seizing the trunk. With a mighty heave they levered the heavy crate onto the train and yanked Harry up onto the coupler by his collar as he started to be able to count the cracks in the end wall brick.
The two boys, twins he guessed, both gasped for breath, but wore identical grins.
"Lookie here George, we're not the last ones this year. This firstie's even later than us!" he said, falling onto Harry's trunk as the city fell behind them.
"I see Fred, I see." The other called back.
"Narrowly made it, eh?" he said to Harry eying him. "You sure you're a firstie? I get that you lot are small, but just how old are you?"
"I'm eleven." Harry sputtered, his pulse still ounding in his ears. He had been inches away from being a splatter on the wall. Inches!
Out of Harry's sight, Fred elbowed his brother. "Oi! You alright? We got caught kinda close. Let's get you to a compartment, that way we're not sitting out in between cars."
The two boys carried Harry's trunk into the nearest empty car and wished him the best. They would stay, they said, but they had friends waiting on them, as well as a meeting of some sort. Harry waved them goodbye, finally getting the breath to thank them for their help. He settled into his seat and popped the lid to his trunk again.
He had found the old trunk in the attic, tucked behind a bunch of other boxes. Given when he asked about anything up there, Aunt Petunia didn't mention the trunk as she listed off everything else that was up there, Harry decided that she had forgotten about it, or couldn't remember it. Since only he knew about it, he considered it his. The letter from the school hadn't explained much, and what he found in the trunk raised more questions than answers. He had to let the matter rest until he was on his way, or the Dursleys would ruin it. He was worried about the missing supplies, but he had other supplies that weren't on the list! Plenty of books and other doodads that he didn't understand. Maybe he could trade some around for what he needed. They were used, and a little beaten up, but he liked them.
For one, he was used to secondhand things. After living with Dudley's cast offs for years, it was no problem. For two, some of the things had his parents' names on them. He was very protective of the delicate 'Lily' written in the textbooks, and the flashy 'James' stamped on the scales. Even if it was superficial, it was still something of his parents. The trunk also had 'Prongs, Padfoot, and Moony' carved on the side. A 'Wormtail' had been scratched out, no reason given.
His meager belongings hadn't filled the trunk, but they had all fit inside. He wasn't sure if that was a good thing or not. If he never returned to the Dursleys, it would be nice. But, he had a sinking feeling he would be coming back. Hopefully they wouldn't turn him away too soon. He was to learn magic, after all. Magic was, well, magical.
His musing aside, Harry dug out a book well-worn book. On the inside covered, in fine silvery writing, was a large Sirius O. Black.
Harry sat back in the seat and opened the book on 'Common Household Charms for the Unlucky Bachelor'. It wasn't geared towards fist years, but it was dead useful. There had been a wand in the trunk, tagged with an amusing note.
"Remus, next time you forget your potion remember to set this somewhere safe. I know wolfie isn't smart enough to use one, but you are. It's rather embarrassing to be running patrols as a sixth year and your partner not have a wand. Take better care of it, and yourself.
Respectfully, Lily"
He pulled the wand from his sleeve and pointed it at the hinge on the side of the trunk. The hinge had failed when he moved the trunk from the attic, and he wasn't able to fix it. But, after consulting the book quite a few times, Harry had found a spell that should work. He swished and flicked from one end to the other.
"Reparo." He said calmly. To his surprise, the hinge snapped together, the broken piece rematerializing and binding itself to the brass.
"Congratulations! Was that your first charm?" he jumped, shocked to see a girl a few years older than him beaming at him from the door.
"Er, yes." He said quietly, looking down. Was what he did wrong? Was she going to yell at him?
"That's wonderful! I'm glad you waited until you were on the train to perform it, since we're not allowed to use magic in front of muggles. I'm Hermione Granger, second year Gryffindor. Are you doing okay back here?" She smiled again and slid into the compartment. "I'm the first in my family to have magic, so I know what it's like to be just entering this world. I'm sure you have questions, ask away."