Disclaimer: I own none of these characters. JK Rowling does.

AN this hasn't been beta'd yet I just thought I'd put it here and see if it gets much of a reception. I'll update as beta-ing gets done.

Moony

Remus Lupin was fairly certain he was the only eleven year old boy in the whole entire world to cry when he got his Hogwarts letter. Most eleven year old boys -and even, Remus thought with a squirm of shame- most eleven year old girls!- probably laughed, instead of cried. Maybe some would be scared, or nervous. His mum said everyone would be as nervous as he was, but Remus knew she was lying. Everyone lied to him, and to each other, and everyone pretended to believe it, because it made his mum less sad. Well no one ever wondered what would make him less sad. As his finger traced one long scar down his leg, Remus Lupin realised he did not want to go to Hogwarts. Clutching the intimidating piece of parchment in his hand, a sinking feeling of dread or perhaps guilt and sadness and fear and a lot of other bad things all mingled in his stomach because what if something awful happened he would be so far from home and last time his dad had been there to help but at hogwarts he would be alone and he worried and worried till he wanted to puke but he couldn't even puke because werewolves never- he drew a short sharp breath. Angrily scrubbing the tears from his chocolate brown eyes, he screwed up the letter and threw it angrily at the owl, who gave a dignified hoot and swooped out of the window. "Nyah!" He yelled, sticking his tongue out. Then he giggled. His dad had always told him stories from Hogwarts, and it did sound fun. It sounded like the sort of thing normal boys did. Maybe this could be his chance to be like the other children - to go to school, sleep in dorms, learn things. Picking up the letter again, Remus paused to think clearly for a second. The headmaster was supposed to be brilliant, and a little bit mad, which Remus Lupin personally thought was probably the best combination for coping with anyone. Especially a werewolf. He wondered how long his lunch would take, and ran to find his mum, the letter held tight in his fist.

wormtail
Peter Pettigrew's mum received the owl, which Peter thought wasn't even a little bit fair. He was in his room looking through the window - she had sent him to bed becuase he has made a mess and it wasnt even his fault, really, that the rat had ran across his paints and onto the floor. She had cleaned it up eaily enough with a quick spell- she was a brilliant witch, always had been. And when he had tried to tell her about the rat she had shouted and yelled about how it wasnt her fault they were poor and then said some awful things about the man who owned their house and exactly where he could stick his you know what and peter had cried and she had sent him to his room and none of it was his fault and now SHE was getting HIS Hogwarts owl! It was so unfair! As Peter watched, though, the owl screeched at his mother and rulled out of her reach, heading towards his window. Delighted, he flung it open in time for the magnificent bird to fly in through the opening, deposit a slightly battered letter on his bed, nip peter affectionately on the ear, and fly away again. Ear throbbing, heart pounding, and fingers trembling, peter ripped open the envelope and grinned from ear to ear. He was getting away from here.

Padfoot
Sirius Black wasn't nervous. He wasn't excited. and he certainly wasn't afraid. No. Sirius Black was calm and composed. he sat, straight backed in the large ornate chair. His parents regarded him impassively, and he absolutely did not feel even a slight twinge of nervousness. The room was silent. As It should be. Right? Suddenly, kreacher opened the door to allow a large silent black owl in. The bird landed on the perch and haughtily held out a claw clutching a large white envelope. Sirius suddenly felt an overwhelming surge of bitterness- a great stupid bloody bird had the Black family attitude perfected and he didn't. The young, dark haired dark eyed boy was filled with a desire to rebel, to oppose. To not be what these ridiculous people demanded of him. As quickly as it arrived it was gone, and Sirius Black regained his composure. He was an aristocrat, and he had a standard to which he must perform. He held out a hand, impassive and cool, and was handed his letter. His hands betrayed him, shaking ever so slightly as he reached for a letter opener. A near silent "tsk" from his mother and a haughty cough from his father reminded him and he composed hiself. He opened his letter in silence. As he read the words, a peculiar, unfathomable excited rage filled him, and he stood and left the room.

Prongs
James Potter was fidgeting. This in itself wasnt unusual, because James Potter was what his mum liked to call a Fidgeter. She pronounced it like that, too, with the capital letter and everything. James Potter was also grinning, because he knew without being told why his mum and dad had got him sat on this chair, trying to flatten his wild unruly hair to his head and grinnign at each other nervously. James had been showing Magic since before he could remember, so he didn't see why his parents were so nervous, because it wasn't like there was going to be any problems. James was going to get his Hogwarts letter today. His mum tutted nervously and he laughed. His parents, whilst slightly overbearing - I mean, who really needs to comb there hair to read a LETTER? he thought ruefully- cared about him, and had told him manyn stories of Hogwarts. James couldn't wait to go. As the owl appeared in the window, slowly growing bigger and clearer, a horrid thought struck him. The thought settled in his stomach like- like- like a really heavy thought, he decided- and stayed there untill he plucked up the courage to whisper quietly "Dad? What if I'm lonely?" His dad let out a shakey laugh that sounded horribly close to tears, and he whispered in his sons ear "You could never be lonely, kid. They're all gunna love you. you're James Potter." Oh. well, okay then. James reached out his hand in time for the own to drop the pristine white envelope in it, and was pleased to note he wasnt shaking at all.