James Potter was excited.
More excited than the first time his father had let him have a go on his broomstick, in fact.
He couldn't wait to go to Hogwarts.
And as he stood there on Platform 9¾, watching the smoke billowing up in clouds from the Hogwarts Express which he would soon be boarding, he'd never felt better.
He took in his surroundings, the excited chatter of older pupils, and the hoots and squeaks of the pets they clutched. The majestic scarlet of the train which stood out against the dreary gray of the station's walls. Every single thing.
His parents had told him many times about the best years of their lives, and the hijinks they'd got up to. His father had gushed about Gryffindor, the house which James hoped to be sorted into, and slated Slytherin - Gryffindor's traditional 'opponent', James father had told him - whilst James' mother looked on, disapproving etched into her features.
'You'd best be off, James,' said Charlus Potter, waving a hand toward the train, where students were now filing in. 'Remember to not get sorted into Slytherin!' He finished with a wink.
'Slytherin isn't that bad, honestly Charlie,' Dorea Potter shook her head, torn between amusement and annoyance at her husband's attitude toward her former house.
'Well, you turned out alright, Dory, but you were one of the lucky ones… others weren't so lucky.'
Dorea ignored his comment, turning to hug her son before he departed.
'Remember to keep out of trouble!' She smiled, and gave her husband an eye of warning over James' back.
James walked over to his father, who had a mischievous glint in his eye, one which James had been known to share over the years, such as when James had 'accidentally' set fire to the family cat at the age of 4.
'Yes, James, try not to get into too much trouble,' Charlus said, giving his son a grin, which James understood. He knew his dad had included 'too much' deliberately, and gave him a knowing look, much to his dad's delight.
'Remember the cloak,' Charlus whispered, careful to keep his words out of his wife's hearing. 'It's in your trunk. Use it well.'
James grinned up at his dad.
'Have a great year, son.'
And with one last parting look, James joined the other students on the train.