James: 1st September 1971
James potter was awoken at precisely 7AM on the morning of his first train ride to Hogwarts, being pinched and prodded by one of the manors many house elves, Mitzi;
"Master Jamie, Master Jamie! Mitzi has been sent to wake you! Hurry up, master Jamie! You're going to be late!"
"How many times do I have to tell you, Mitzi? It's James not Master Jamie," sighed James.
The elfs eyes widened in horror and, before James could stop her, fell off the table she had been standing on to reach James' bed and ran at it, bouncing off backwards before stumbling up again.
"Mitzi! Stop!"
The house elf stood, swaying precariously on her bare feet, while James hurried up from his bed, grabbing the circular glasses that had fallen off of the table and shoving them on his face before hurriedly laying the little elf on his recently vacated mattress and wrapping her tiny frame in duvet and blankets and saying sternly,
"Mitzi, you are not to get up from that bed until you are absolutely sure your OK, and that's and order, understand?"
The now slightly cross eyed elf nodded drunkenly and fell asleep.
Wow, thought James, what a way to wake up in the morning.
Still chuckling to himself slightly, he manoeuvred himself to the on-suite bathroom, washed, dressed and climbed downstairs into the large dining room to find, as usual, a huge breakfast tray laden with milk, pumpkin juice, orange squash, pancakes, cereal, strawberries, tea and syrup, courtesy of his mother (with perhaps a little help from a motherly house elf, too).
He tucked in eagerly and, about 20 minutes later, Mrs Potter (Rowena, named by James' Grandmother Battersby in the hope of her becoming a Ravenclaw, which she did) came in to see a tray that was wiped clean of any evidence of food, and James, who was trying to suppress a groan from all the food he had eaten, leaning back in his chair. She shook her head fondly, saying;
"Honestly, James, I can't believe you managed to eat all of that, there was enough to feed a small army!"
James merely grunted in acknowledgment of the truth in that statement, jumped off his seat, said good morning to his mother and pecked her cheek before rushing to pack his trunk which he had, of course, left till now to do.
Once it was packed, he, his mother, father (Harry) and owl (Capella) took a portkey (Harry was very high up in the ministry and had been granted permission for one) to the gap between platform 9 and 10, leaned against the vanishing wall-which did not shock James, as he had been forewarned of it- and promptly disappeared, walking through the thick white smoke issuing from the glistening red steam train on platform 9 ¾.
He said goodbye to his parents, hugging them, only to be severely embarrassed when his mother started sobbing uncontrollably into his fathers shoulder, turning to exchange the compulsory eye-roll with his father, to see that he to was giving James a watery smile; Harry never cried! Still a little shocked (though that was dispersing fast into excitement), James climbed aboard the train to find a compartment.
He wandered up and down the corridors until he saw a black haired boy leaning his forehead against the compartment window. Had James seen his face, he would, no doubt, have rathered sit with a bunch of seventh years. This boy, James soon realised when he had sat down and the black haired boy had turned to face him, a sour look on his face, was Sirius Black. Black. James' felt his features rearrange into ones of horror; blacks were renound for being an evil and twisted family. Sirius face turned up into a grin at James' terror.
"Don't worry, I'm not going to kill you!" he's face dropped as he registered the tense stance James stood in, and the increased horror at Sirius' words. Oops. "I'm serious"
"I know your Sirius" James said, grinning "and I'm James." he held out his hand to shake Sirius' "James Potter."
(They were later joined by a short, rather tubby boy, with large front teeth, watery black eyes and mouse brown hair, called peter Pettigrew –he spent the train ride listening avidly to the conversation, occasionally giving the odd excited squeak- and a boy of average height with blonde-coppery hair and bright, brown eyes called Remus Lupin, who kept to himself most of the train ride reading a book, he to occasionally interrupted to make interesting and educated statements, and was all together very likeable, if not a little too sensible in the eyes of James.)
Sirius looked determined. Remus looked ill and a little unsure. Peter looked he was about to puke, wet himself and faint simultaneously. James, however, was lost in thought:
James decided he liked them all. Sirius was mischievous and funny, seemed to despise the Slytherins as much as James (James couldn't believe that the girl with the red hair… gorgeous red hair… would want to hang around with a disgusting slimball like Snivellus- they had recently decided he should be rechristened with that name, taking it up on themselves to do so) and was nothing like the other Blacks he had heard of, and he hadn't once brought up the 'blood' discussion. Remus was fun when you got passed his sensible aura; he was just as mischievous as James and Sirius, only a little more subtle about it. He guessed he liked Peter, too.
They had just travelled on the boat over the lake, and were now nervously lined up, waiting to be sorted. The hat had finished its song and they were nearing the B's
"Black, Sirius" shouted McGonagall
An outbreak of whispers met this name, mutters of 'great, another bloody Slytherin'
Or otherwise 'Yes, I heard his cousin Bellatrix…'
Sirius's mind was reeling, that much James could tell. Please let him be in Gryffindor, please, please, plea-
"GRYFFINDOR!"
The whispers intensified and James punched the air with his fist, cheering along with the other Gryffindors. He, personally, was not worried; he was going to be in Gryffindor no matter what.