He can't see anything clearly at first. There's so much smoke, so much bustle; it's overwhelming. Then he starts to see people everywhere, children and their parents all hurrying to board the train, even though they have arrived in plenty of time. His father comes on board to help put his trunk onto the train and find a compartment. There's an empty one, so they stow his rucksack on a seat and go back to the platform where his mother is waiting. It's time to say goodbye.
'Don't forget, darling,' she says, wringing an already damp handkerchief. 'If it's too hard, or too tiring after, you can always come home. That headmaster said they'll let you stay in the hospital wing and the matron will look after you, but Dad says you can just send an owl if you're not coping and we'll come and get you straight away.'
Dad nods, equally anxious, trying harder to hide it. 'Right son, time we were off. There'll be other lads on board with you soon, so you can start making friends.' They all know this is optimistic. He hasn't ever managed to make friends before.
His parents give him their last hugs and kisses, and push him back on the train before setting off back through the barrier. There are ten minutes before the train is due to leave, but he knows his father wants to get his mother away before she changes her mind about letting him go.
He finds his compartment again, still empty. He sits by himself, checking his bag for his packed lunch, chocolate for afters, chocolate for just-in-case, robes to change into later on the journey. Then the train whistle blows a warning. He cranes out the window to check the platform clock. 10.55.
Beside his compartment he sees a dark-haired boy on the platform, facing a tired-looking young man. He is surely the handsomest boy Remus has ever seen, even though he can only see him in profile. His hair is worn long, nearly to his shoulders – not in the current fashion, Remus thinks, more like pictures he's seen in books of medieval princes and knights. It goes well with the rather haughty expression on the boy's face, his chin raised a little defiantly, though the boy's grey eyes betray another emotion. Remus wonders if it could be fear, though he can't imagine what a boy like this could possibly have to fear.
Through the open window, Remus can't help overhearing the conversation between the boy and the man with him, who seems too young to be a father. 'Master Black, your mother asked me to pass on her best wishes – you understand why she can't be here today – a very important reception.' The boy barely responds, gives a slight disengaged nod. 'Madam Black said to remind you to sit up straight during the sorting ceremony, and to try not to look too pleased when you are sorted. A nod of acknowledgement will suffice.'
The dark-haired boy now turns his full attention to the young man. 'But what if I'm not in Slytherin?' The boy is ridiculously well-spoken and confident, but a note of anxiety still escapes him.
The young man puts his head to one side and looks at the boy. 'I'm sure you will be, Master Black. Your family have all been. However, I'm sure we can find a way to explain to your mother if you are not sorted as you expect. Ravenclaw, my own house, would be an admirable alternative. You would do well there, if you apply yourself. You can write to me.' He pats the boy hesitantly on the shoulder. Something formal between them prevents him from offering an embrace. 'Now, I must get back. Master Regulus will be waiting for his lessons. Farewell.'
The tutor disappears into the crowd of parents and children, and the dark-haired boy makes his way onto the train, entering Remus's own compartment. He scans the empty seats. Remus offers a small smile, but the boy glances briefly, dismissively down his perfectly formed nose and takes a seat opposite in the corner by the door.
At the same moment, a commotion is taking place on the platform. 'Bloody hell, Euphemia, first year and we can't even manage to be on time!'
A family of three, mother, father and scruffy son – all wearing glasses – are tearing along the platform as the final whistle blows. 'It's not my fault, Fleamont,' the mother snaps back, the wrinkles on her forehead creasing further into a frown. 'You didn't pick up more floo powder like I asked you to – too busy larking about with your potions.' They come to a halt and tumble into last hugs, with the boy trying to escape without too many kisses. The grey-haired father levitates his truck on board. The boy climbs into the train just as it starts to move, and waves cheerfully to his parents, who are trotting alongside on the platform.
Remus watches the whole thing, wondering at a family so casually irritable and yet so openly affectionate with each other. They make a stark contrast to his own polite, watchful, anxious parents, who seem far older inside than this near-elderly pair. Even the dark-haired boy is watching, although his interest is nearly imperceptible. Minutes later the scruffy boy lurches into their compartment. 'Mind if I sit here? Everywhere else is full of bloody Slytherins!'
Remus looks over to see if the dark-haired boy has taken offence, for hadn't he expressed a desire to his tutor to be sorted into Slytherin? Astonishingly, he laughs, and makes a mock-chivalric gesture for the scruffy boy to enter the compartment.
He is followed by a smaller boy, a small, clumsy sort, who gazes with admiration at the boy who appears to have adopted him. 'Found this one lurking in the corridor by the bogs,' laughs the scruffy boy. 'His name's Peter. He can sit with us.' The dark-haired boy shrugs his shoulders as the two new boys settle into their seats.
'I'm James. James Potter,' the scruffy boy stretches out a hand to the dark-haired boy next to him first, who shakes hands with him. 'Sirius,' he replies simply.
'Hi Sirius,' Peter calls over from his seat, unheard.
'Sirius what?' asks James, as he wipes his smeared glasses on his shirt.
Sirius hesitates for a moment. He looks both proud and uncomfortable, something Remus hadn't imagined was possible. This boy seems full of contradictions. 'Black,' he answers, sitting up very straight as James's mouth forms a slight O. It obviously means something to him that is beyond Remus's knowledge. Sirius sits up even straighter in response, like a challenge, the defiant expression Remus saw on his face outside the train returning to his face, chin again tilted a little higher. Then James shrugs his shoulders and his mouth cracks into a huge grin. 'Great to meet you, Sirius,' he says cheerfully. 'You a first-year too?'
Sirius nods, and immediately seems to relax. James then spots Remus. 'Hiya! I'm James, you probably heard, James Potter, this is Peter, can we call you Pete, Peter, and this is Sirius, cool scar, how'd you get it?' he rattles off in one breath. Peter waves. Sirius finally deigns to properly notice Remus and actually smiles at him this time – an unaffected, wholehearted smile. It makes Remus feel like those blissful nights when the moon is waning and won't be whole again for weeks, and the stars twinkle merrily in companionship. He is going to have to be careful if a mere smile bestowed by this boy makes him feel this way. His parents have warned him about not giving away too much of himself.
Within minutes, James and Sirius are laughing as if they have known each other for ever. Peter joins in whenever there's a slight gap in the conversation, and Remus listens happily, answering the odd question James, and occasionally Sirius, throws his way, evading others. Remus marvels at the easy, joking, teasing way the boys already have with each other.
It seems at first that the whole journey will continue uninterrupted like this, but a little later the compartment door opens again. A red-haired girl their age enters, stamps past the boys and takes one of the window seats, the one next to Remus. She looks extremely unhappy. Remus has no idea whether he should say hello, or ask her what's wrong, or leave her alone. He has no experience of girls, let alone girls who have obviously been crying. The other boys largely ignore her, except for James, who briefly glances up as she passes him.
*** This tails off a bit at the end, but I think we all know what happens next! Please review and let me know what you think of these young Marauders. ***