King's Cross Station

"Mum! I'll be fine. It's only until Christmas. Right, Dad?" James Potter protested loudly, shuffling his feet uncomfortably and turning red as his mother patted his cheek ever so condescendingly and kissed his forehead. "Mum." James looked up to his dad in outrage, looking for support, only to receive a warm smile and a chuckle.

"Be good, Jamsie," his mother said, and James huffed impatiently and glanced anxiously around Platform Nine and Three-Quarters to see that nobody had heard her before muttering, "I'm too old for you to call me that! That was for when I was little."

His father burst out laughing at the sight of this slight, eleven-year-old boy so indignantly declaring that he wasn't little, and laid a hand on his child's shoulder before saying, "Well son, then you'll be old enough to know not to save your homework for the last minute, and to be in bed by nine, and to not sneak the broomsticks out of the broom shed at the school."

"Okay, okay," James agreed hurriedly, thinking that these were good terms if it meant not being embarrassingly smothered in another one of his mother's hugs. A tall boy with shaggy black hair who looked about his age was watching from the other end of the platform, his hands shoved in his pockets, not being fawned over by his family, and James couldn't have this obviously cool kid thinking he was a sissy.

"My stuff's on the train and you've finished telling me the rules, so can I go see some of the other kids now, Mum?" James asked, continuing to eye the boy standing several feet away with curiosity and some admiration. The boy shook his hair out of his face and thrust his chest out a little bit, looking even more proud and self assured. Now, why couldn't James look like that?

James ducked away from his father's hand, which was trying to ruffle his already unruly hair, and having obtained permission, strolled over to the boy, sticking his hands into his pockets as he went to mirror the student's stance.

"Are you a first year?" James asked as he approached.

"Yeah. Sirius Black, pure blood," he said, extending his hand formally.

James wrinkled his nose and said, "Oh, you're one of those who care about blood status." He started to retreat, disappointed. Mum and Dad had said never to hang around with someone who valued blood status more than they did people. It was one of the many instructions he'd been told as he'd packed that morning.

James had begun to turn away from Sirius Black when the boy shouted, "Wait! Hang on; help me put my trunks in the luggage compartment."

James hesitated. Feeling more nervous than he'd ever admit, glanced over his shoulder at his parents, who were discreetly watching from a distance, and, feeling safer, said, "Alright."

"I'm going now, Mother," Sirius said to a black haired woman who was nearby.

"Don't do anything to make me send a Howler after you, Sirius Black!" the witch called after him sternly before pulling him into a brief one-armed hug and then turning her attention back to her other, younger son who was clinging to her hand.

"I won't, Mother," Sirius grumbled. "Bye, Reg." He gave a little wave to his younger brother and then hefted a heavy trunk into his arms while James picked up the other.

"Sorry about that," Sirius apologized when they were some distance away. "Mother says it's only proper to introduce yourself with your blood status so people know you're not a - a mudblood." Sirius whispered the last fearful word hesitantly, and James looked up in shock, accidentally dropping the trunk on his toe.

"My mum said never to say that to anybody!"

"I wasn't actually calling anyone that," Sirius protested, his face flushing at his evident blunder. "It's what Mother calls them. But what I was trying to say is that I think blood status is a load of rubbish, I just had to introduce myself that way because Mother was right behind us. I'm not - I don't - that's notwhat I'm like!" Sirius started stammering towards the end of his outburst, flustered and uncomfortable.

"Okay, okay, sure," James said, taken aback by Sirius's earnestly. He gave Sirius a shy little glance, and since the color had begun to fade from the boy's cheeks, ventured to ask, "So what House do you want to be in?"

Sirius's face lit up. "Gryffindor! I have to be. It's the only House I want. You think I'll get in? I'm brave. I don't guess that I'm all that chivalrous, but..." Sirius gave a small, hopeful smile.

The doubt in James's eyes cleared and he offered a friendly grin. "Oh, I guess you are alright, then. I want Gryffindor, too."

Sirius's face lit up and he mock-punched James lightly in the shoulder. "Yeah? Maybe we'll be together then."

James looked straight into Sirius's sparkling, laughing, gray eyes and knew he'd found a friend. He shoved Sirius back playfully and then they both chuckled aloud as they dragged the trunks into the luggage compartment and then stood back to gaze up at the bright red train. Their young faces were identical reflections of awe and a touch of nervous trepidation as the steam curled up from the base of the train and left a misty haze over the now emptying platform.

In the face of the mighty steam engine, James thought of his room at home, with his own bed and his familiar Quidditch memorabilia, and then thought of the long journey to a place he'd never been. He was ashamed to find that he was already homesick.

"Hey, well, I guess my mum wants me to say 'bye," James said, making excuse to see her one last time, "but I'll see you on the train?"

"'Course," Sirius replied easily, eying the station. "I'm going to board the train now because it looks like Reg and Mother have already left, but come find me once you get on."

James nodded and hurried back to his parents, who were still watching. He looked down at his feet, hoping they wouldn't mention his sudden return. "I guess you'll want to give me some last instructions," he muttered, still not looking up.

"Oh, Jamsie." His mum bent down and enfolded him into one of the soft, tender hugs that only mothers can give, and James pressed his cheek against her shoulder and breathed in her homey smell. He felt suddenly safe and at ease, and his appetite for adventure at Hogwarts returned in a rush. James kissed his mother's cheek and accepted a hug from his father and then, with a roguish grin, ran up to the huge, magical train that would, at last, bear him away to the place that would make him a wizard.

A/N: I know this kind of story must have been done a hundred times, but I thought I'd give it a go of my own. Right now I'm just planning on continuing it for as long as I have ideas. Let me know what you think! I'm also planning to alternate the POV for each chapter so that each Marauder has a voice, so I hope nobody's confused by that. Any thoughts? Liked it, hated it? Read and review!

This story is dedicated to Krissyy, because she made me love the Marauders as much as she does.