Too many stories! Ah well, I'll survive.
Enjoy, I'm not juggling half a load of stories for nothing! :)

-0000-

Adrasteia looked around the bustling station. Practically everyone was so happy. Parents bustling around their kids, shoving them towards the train, a red-headed boy playing with his white rat, a pretty, grown-up girl kissing her mother on the cheek and running hand in hand with a boy (her boyfriend?) towards the train.

A tall thin woman was passing a beautiful barn owl to a boy with scruffy black hair and glasses as she spoke, probably telling him what and what not to do. The boy looked about her age and was grinning cheekily at his mother, whilst a man who was probably his father laughed lightly at whatever the woman was saying.

Adras' did notice some anomalies, though: a tall, black haired boy of about eleven was shifting uncomfortably from foot to foot as his mother talked, evidently distraught. And she didn't need to use her abilities to know that. He was watching his mother warily as if expecting her to explode at him at any moment and seemed to be treating the conversation as walking on this ice. He had a sleek, black owl in a cage on top of his trunk and when his mother (?) shut her mouth he turned to head towards the train.

A short, plump, ratty boy trailed behind a literally massive woman as they headed onto the platform, quickly followed by a short, thin, tight-lipped man who looked a lot like said eleven-year-old boy. The woman walked quickly ahead, not even bothering to turn to check that the others were following her. The boy kept having to move his hand to his pocket to stop a little brown rat from escaping and, more than once, said rat bit the child on the finger, but he kept his mouth tightly shut, though he seemed as if he wanted to cry.

A tall, studious looking boy stood on his own and took in the station same as Adras'. He had the air of someone who didn't feel like they belonged in the area, though he was making a valiant effort to cover that up. He had no pet and kept shooting wistful glances at those who did. His robes seemed second-hand and slightly too big for him, though he ignored that and kept looking around, drinking it all in.

Adrasteia herself had long, waist length, copper coloured hair, which was an anomaly for her home country. She had deep blue eyes, her skin was olive coloured and she was the average height for those of her age. When she spoke, which she undoubtedly would, as she couldn't ever keep her mouth shut, she still had a slight Greek accent, although it was slowly fading.

Adras' picked up her Burrowing Owl, Stryx's, cage, grabbed her trunk and headed towards the train.

-0000-

"...and be good, make lots of friends, and STOP MESSING WITH YOU HAIR, JAMES, I'M TRYING TO TALK TO YOU!"

"Sorry, mum." James grinned, his hand immediately dropping down to his side.

"I swear, James Charlus Potter (Uh oh, not the middle name!), that you're going to be the death of me!"

"Sorry, mum." The eleven-year-old James Potter was quite tall for his age. His hair was already rumpled and messy, and one got the distinct impression that he wouldn't cut it for the world. His eyes were hazel, and enlarged slightly by the glasses he wore, and the atmosphere he gave was one of a spoilt brat.

Dorea Potter, James' mum, who'd been watching him closely, spotted something over his shoulder and her eyes widened in mock surprise. "Ah, Walburga!" she said in a very patronizing way as James tuned out quickly, "It's lovely to see you! How is my niece; all right? And how's your son?"

"Annoying."

"Lovely! Well, this is my son, James. James, this is your cousin." Dorea turned back to her niece, "Your son's starting school this year too, isn't he? And how's my brother, Pollux?"

"Father's fine..."

Dorea and Walburga trailed off into a conversation about life in general (and how much it sucked, by the sound of things) and James found his attention grasped by that of his father.

"I'd get on the train if I were you," smiled Charlus, "and look after that owl, Noctua, would you."

James grinned down at his barn owl and then glanced back at his tall, thin mother, "Thank mum for me, she never gave me the chance! Well, I'd better be off."

"Bye son."

"Bye dad."

-0000-

"LOOK AT ME RIGHT NOW, SIRIUS ORION BLACK!" growled a large woman angrily as she returned from talking to her aunt.

Sirius Black turned to face his mother with obvious effort. The young boy had grey eyes spekled with blues and greens (and those were only the obvious colours). His black hair was cut short and he was already tall for his age.

"I trust you won't be a disappointment with this, Sirius!" hissed his displeased mother. Well, Sirius didn't care much for what mood she was in; his mother was always displeased.

"Yes, mother."

"And just make sure that you're in Slitherin."

Sirius wasn't sure how he could 'make sure' he was in Slitherin, and anyway, if he could choose his house then he'd ask to be as far away from that group of freaks as possible. But still, Sirius wasn't dumb, and he wasn't going to annoy his mother further, so he replied "Yes, mother."

"Good. Now, Bellatrix is waiting for you in the carriage nearest the engine. Now move! Don't you dare miss the train!"

Sirius grimaced with dislike towards his cousin, whom he had name Trixie after she'd begun to insist on calling him Sirrie. He didn't know how she could complain about him, talk about hypocritical!

"Yes, mother."

"And don't lose your owl," snapped Walburga as Sirius walked away. He glanced down at his Great Horned Owl, Circinus and smiled, he did like his owl alot, about the only thing he liked that his family had ever given him. Probably because it had been his brother who'd got him, and his brother understood him more than any other in the family, no matter their differences (okay, the truth was that they were very similar, it was just that Regulus wasn't as confident, and so acted as his parents expected).

-0000-

A young, rat-like Peter Pettigrew hid behind a woman who was as tall as she was wide. He kept quiet, even when his rat, Lex, bit him on the finger. His mother was a boisterous woman who kept him and his father in line; both were way too afraid to ever stand up to her.

His eyes kept darting around the station; being an only child, this was the first time he'd ever been there and he was quite eager to drink in everything: the sights, the smells, the sounds. He drank in the very taste of the air and the feeling of the wind against his skin.

He glanced at the older years as they ran to get places on the train, red, green, blue and orange rushed past in a blur. Peter paid special attention to those with orange, in Hufflepuff, because that was where he was probably going to end up, according to his mother.

Talking of his mother, she stopped. And Peter, being unaware as he looked around, walked straight into the back of her. She looked round in annoyance, "Mind were you're going!" she snapped.

"Sorry, mum."

His mother began wading through the crowds, pushing them this way and that with her large frame which gave more than enough room for Peter and his father to follow in the wake of. Parents glanced at his mother in disgust, their eyes running up and down her frame judgingly. Students whispered and giggled and she came striding forward.

Soon, though, she stopped again and looked round at him.

"Get on the train, Peter."

Peter squeaked and hurried off to the nearest door.

-0000-

Remus Lupin watched people bustling about and hurrying for the train. He still couldn't believe that he was stood there, on Platform 9 ¾, getting ready to board the train for Hogwarts. Professor Dumbledore had been good to him, he should never have been allowed at school, with what he was and all that, but Dumbledore had told him that, with just a few precautions, it would be fine.

Remus was quite pale (had the full moon just passed?) and his light brown hair clung to his forehead in the steam of the station.

The whistle blew sharply and Remus ran towards the train, belongings in tow; it wouldn't do for him to miss it.

-0000-

Hope it was good!

Remus: How come I got the shortest one?
Me: Because I couldn't think of what else to write.
Remus: And why was I last?
Me: Think about the order of your nicknames.
Remus: Oh...