A/N: This is a sad excuse for an entry into Ikrona's The First Day Of School contest. Not at all what I wanted but I hope it still works and that someone out there enjoys reading it.


It had been almost perfect. Almost because, really, something was bound to be wrong on a train filled with young witches and wizards. Perfect because, well, that should just be obvious.

Lily Evans had been looking foreward to this day all year. Ever since the owl came tapping on her window; at exactly ten o' clock in the morning on her eleventh birthday. All she'd been able to think about was how absolutely brilliant it was going to be.

Being a witch.

Casting spells and learning magic.

Having something special that not many others knew about, much less had.

And the train ride to the school, on a large locomotive dubbed the Hogwarts Express, was something she'd been picturing for a while. And, oh, it was everything that she'd hoped it would be. Shiney and new looking but, at the same time, almost nostolgic looking. Like it had been around for far longer than it should have, even if it still looked brand new.

Lily hadn't even been forced to find a compartment on her own. Instead she'd met up with a pale-skinned boy by the name of Severus Snape and the two had gone into the train together. They chose an empty compartment near the front and settled down, bags by their feet and pet cages secured above their heads.

She had a cat, white and sleek and friendly, that went by the name of Bitty.

He had an owl, black and old and with a gaze lacking any sort of warmth, that went by the name Siv.

Lily's pet had been bought for her on the trip to Diagon Alley. It was the sweetest cat in the shop and, once she laid eyes on it, there was no debates. There was no looking at the other types of pets. It was just decided; Bitty would be hers.

Severus' pet was his fathers old messenger owl. And he despised it more than anything else. Siv was a nasty creature, he'd explained, that delighted in nothing more than taking chunks out of whatever person went near him. His current owner included.

That was all the conversation exchanged before both children had been distracted. Lily found herself completely in awe of the sight otuside her window. From where she was seated, she had a perfect view of all the families pouring onto the platform. Some with a mother, some a father, some with both; and they were all laughing and smiling and saying goodbyes.

One boy, plump and tawny-haired, burst into tears in the middle of his goodbye. The mother hushed him and held him close, giving what would no doubts be words of reassurance.

A black-haired boy stood slouched while a woman, stiff and stern looking, wagged a finger at him. It looked like he was being scolded.

Then there was a blond boy, tall and thin, that came in on his own. His shoulders were drawn up tight and his head hanging down, it was with heavy steps that he headed towards the train.

Every child that came through the portal, as she had taken to calling it, was different in some way. No student seemed to be reacting the same and watching that was just so interesting.

Neither she nor Severus had wasted time saying goodbye to their parents before boarding the train.

The boy, who Lily liked to think was her first friend in the Wizarding World, had told her that niether of his parents deemed the trip worthy of their time. His father had dropped him off outside of the platform and left, his mother didn't even bother coming.

Lily's just weren't able to pass through the magical barrier. Or, rather, her father wasn't. Her mother, Hilda, hadn't come with them to the station. Not because she hadn't wanted to, though, but because she had to stay at home with Lily's sister.

And that was why this trip wasn't perfect.

Why no trip, no matter how many years she went to this school or how great of a time she had there or who she sat with, would ever be perfect.

Because Petunia wasn't a witch, wasn't magical in the slightest. And the look that had been on her face when Lily left that morning would taint her expierence beyond measure.