Sunlight streamed in through the blinds, dancing in tiny ribbons across the room. Harry opened his eyes slowly, and looked up at the ceiling above him. Dust swirled around him, caught in the light of the sun…He wondered if you could enchant the dust so it could dance, if you could enchant the dust to make it alive, if, if-
"Harry Dear, Your train is leaving in two hours! I do hope you're packed!" His mother called from downstairs.
The smell of pancakes wafted up the stairs and into the room where Harry lay. He jumped out of bed, excitement coursing through him, working as a sort of adrenaline that made him move faster, made the lights brighter, and made the world around him even clearer.
He raced down the stairs, taking them two at a time, and into the kitchen. His mother sat at the table, overseeing a couple of knitting needles that were knitting something…it just looked like a brown furry blob to harry.
Behind her the spatula was flipping pancakes onto a plate.
"There's my boy!" The loud voice of James Potter rang throughout the room.
"Hi Dad." Harry said, shoveling pancakes into his mouth.
"So Son, are you excited? It's the big day!" His father said, his eyes twinkling.
"Merlin's Beard, my little boy going to Hogwarts! It seemed like just yesterday-"
"Mom, Dad, stop it. You're embarrassing me." Harry said, blushing.
"Honey, there's no one around for me to embarrass you in front of." His mother said, her green eyes twinkling. She stood up, walking over to the window, and opened it, just seconds before a large barn owl came crashing into their large, airy kitchen. It flapped around for a while, hooting softly, before landing on the table, right on Harry's pancakes.
"Aww, c'mon! Why does this keep happening to me?" Harry cried, reproachfully, remembering the last time the mail came, when the owl stepped into his cereal.
"The Longbottoms cant come over now, but they are just going to meet us at the station." His mother said, flipping her long red hair over her shoulder.
"Neville says to tell you that he's bringing your Quiditch book, he says you left it at his house the last time you went over." She said, looking up from the envelopes, trying to look stern.
"That's where it went!"
Neville was Harry's best friend, ever since he could remember. They had played together when they were kids, and they played together now. Sometimes when Harry went over to Neville's, his parents, Frank and Alice Longbottom, let them ride their broomsticks. Neville was already a natural, having spent years already practicing with his dad. Harry needed some improvement, but, she had the hang of it.
"C'mon Honey, we have to go." His mother cried, looking at the time.
"Lets go." Harry Said, stepping out the door.