Among the great swell of people overcrowding the dusty station a young boy darted about, zigzagging around individuals in his desperate rush. Excitement bubbled over onto his features, the smile on his face bright enough to light a Christmas tree, his eyes sparkling like the ripples of a pond in a low hanging sun. Nothing could have drawn the joy from the boy, for he felt that it was stained on his skin like a tattoo – permanent and everlasting.

"Come on, Dad!" James Potter snaked his way through King's Cross Station. His parents had already fallen a while behind, and in such a place of unfamiliarity meant that the two adults were forced to call out every so often and to force their way through particularly large clumps of muggles while stuttering apologies and rushed explanations.

Fleamont pushed a large trolley with an equally large trunk on it through the bustling train station, earning disapproving looks from passing muggles due to how anomalous such a thing seemed in a place as standard and ordinary as King's Cross, while Euphemia tiptoed anxiously beside him, shaking her head at her husband's undiplomatic remarks on how he was just excited. The family cat was curled lazily in the corner of the cream cage that balanced precariously on top of the trunk, mewling with irritation each time Fleamont swerved sharply to avoid running someone over, but aside from that it didn't seem to care much.

The station around them was filled with people with interest only in their own personal problems rushing to get to their trains as if they were the only people with priorities - people with suitcases and phones pressed to their ears barking about business meetings - but the Potters weren't heading in the same direction as any of them, and instead had intentions of running at a wall.

Of course, this being the wizarding world, that would be no normal wall but merely a way to disguise the busiest part of King's Cross; the charming Platform 9 ¾. The platform beloved by all magical folk in the UK was always full to the brim with witches and wizards dashing frantically around with their children, and it was always overfull with joyous laughter and loving farewells, with mothers crying and fathers bidding their sons and daughters goodbye with a proud glint in their almost-watering eyes. Fleamont and Euphemia knew the place all too well, with happy memories scorched into their brains of meeting old friends and heart-breaking partings. It was a place of happiness, of new beginnings and of forgotten pasts.

James had already placed himself outside the wall that stood between Platform 9 and 10, dancing on his toes like a hyperactive ballerina. The two adults had caught up with him at that point, and came up protectively on either side of him. His mother wrapped an arm around his quivering shoulders and pressed him into her tightly, burning tears threatening to spill from her eyes, as his father ruffled his already messy hair.

"Don't cry, mum," James patted her shoulder lovingly as they shared a mother-son look; it seemed to mean so much more than he had meant it to.

"Come now, James," Fleamont gleamed at the two people that he gave all his love to, "You first."

"You make it sound like running through a wall will be the best experience of my life," James chuckled, taking hold of the trolley after tickling the cat's paws through the cage door.

"It just may be," The older man smiled, and gave his son a gentle push.

Shaking slightly from enthusiasm but also from intimidation, James set forth, his first few steps awkward and slow, but then he managed to gain coordination and speed, eventually stepping up the pace and running full pelt at the magic wall. Fleamont grimaced and opened his mouth to call out for him to slow down for fear of the boy running straight into someone on the other side.

Which is exactly what he did.

James sped through the barrier and was almost immediately catapulted over the top of his trolley, knocking his petrified cat off as he went, and sliding dully down the other side onto the person he had just run over.

"Ow," James wasn't sure whether it was him that had said that, or the person beneath him, but whoever it was he knew that they both felt that way regardless.

It was rather uncomfortable laying there, James half on his trolley and half on the boy (for he had concluded that it was a male) in a spread-eagled position, while the person beneath him breathed heavy puffs of air down his neck. It was humiliating; this was possibly the worst first impression he had ever made. The dizzy feeling that began to could over his head made his fingers feel fuzzy, and he suspected that it was something to do with the crack he heard when his head hit the floor in such the alarming way that it had. Whoever was underneath him didn't exactly provide substantial cushioning.

"Are you going to get up or are you enjoying this?" The voice of a prepubescent boy squeaked as though he were a dog toy, which was quite a good comparison considering he had just had the air squashed out of him.

"Uh," Wincing as he shifted, James attempted to sit up, but his arms collapsed underneath him and he slumped back down on top of the speaker, then feeling the full aftermath of the crash. This earned a huff from said boy, who was in quite a bit more pain than the one above.

After a short break, James tried once again to get to his feet, and succeeded that time, with a few whimpers. While taking the time to brush the dust from his clothes he heard someone clear their throat, calling out for his attention in a way that suggested impatience.

"It'd be nice if you helped me up too. After all, you did just crash into me, and I am underneath your bloody trolley," Looking down, James laid eyes on his victim. The boy looked tall, even sprawled on the floor, and had a slim, well-built frame with sharp features and narrowed eyes. His clothes were smart, despite the now present crumples, which suggested he was wealthy. Jet black hair rolled down to his shoulders, and it was surprisingly nice looking. James imagined that it would be soft to touch, "You just gonna stare, or...?"

"Oh, right," A blush crept up James' neck as he held out his hand and pulled the black haired boy to his feet, "I'm Potter. James Potter."

"Sirius Black," They shook hands, James looking up at the slightly taller boy and deciding to start again so he wouldn't start off at Hogwarts as a complete loser.

"I've heard of the Blacks; you're a powerful wizarding family, right?" Sirius arched a well-shaped eyebrow and snorted.

"Powerful? Yes. Family? Not quite," He strode confidently over to the forgotten cat cage and picked it up off the ground, placing it back on top of the trunk and ignoring the hisses from inside. James muttered a small 'Thanks'.

"How so?" James asked, dismissing his earlier tumble and acting as if nothing had happened and stepping into his cocky demeanour, which caused Sirius to raise his eyebrow again. James could already tell that this boy was definitely going to be competition in the sass department.

"We just don't agree on stuff," He shrugged nonchalantly, though James definitely saw something in his eyes that suggested it went deeper than that.

"Oh... yeah," Not knowing how to respond, the second boy shoved his hands in his pockets in an attempt to be cool. Well, as cool as an eleven year old could be.

Sirius opened his mouth, possibly to make a snide remark about James' ridiculous entry, when the boy's parents slid through the barrier and rushed to their son's side, immediately fussing over him in such a way that would have caused embarrassment to even the snottiest of kids. They first asked him if he was alright, having noticed a few of James' belongings scattered over the floor and his trouser leg that had managed to roll a considerable way up his leg. Then his mother attempted in vain to flatten his hair while his father gathered up the objects. After this they started asking him if he was alright and if he needed medical help. James proceeded to question what had taken them so long, and they replied with one simple word – Muggles. And then back to fussing. It wasn't until around 5 minutes later that they noticed the strange, dark haired boy laughing softly a few feet away.

"Who is this, James, sweetie?" Euphemia asked with a smile warm like hot cocoa.

Fleamont stepped towards the boy and extending a hand, awaiting introduction, "Making friends already I see."

"Actually, sir, your son just ran me over with his trolley," Sirius shook his head to get rid of the loose strands of hair in his face and flashed a sly smirk as he smartly shook the father's hand.

"Oh dear," Fleamont sounded surprised, as if his son was too much of a good boy to do such a thing, and opened his mouth ready to defend him.

James interrupted, a little grumpy at the fact that his father thought he couldn't do that himself, "I was just running too fast."

"Hmm," The older man smiled and laughed, "Well, I do hope that you understand that it was a mistake," And then he resumed his place behind the trolley and began pushing it along the station with his wife following suit, calling behind cheerily for his son to follow.

James hung back for a moment, contemplating what to say, before murmuring, "I'd appreciate if you didn't mention what happened to anyone."

Sirius tilted his head back and let out a hearty laugh, "Of course, sweetie."

The two parted, James trailing behind his parents while Sirius watched him go, not breaking eye contact for as long as they could. This lead to James wandering blindly into about three people before he decided to face forward again, though he couldn't shake the feeling that that boy was going to become someone important to him.

Platform 9 ¾ was, as expected, busier than all the other stations in King's Cross combined, which meant if James had wanted to sightsee then he had come on the wrong day. He could, however, make out a scarlet steam engine with thick white smoke billowing along above it through the masses, and this brought a wide smile to the Potter's young face. This was the steam engine he had only ever seen in books, and it most definitely met all expectations standing there boldly, stretching out along the platform, the carriages carrying a certain look of proudness. The books didn't do it even half justice, and the eleven year old suddenly felt weak and incredibly minor in its presence.

Alongside him, other witches and wizards pushed and shoved to get on that train, their ages ranging from younger than him to quite a bit older. They all sported something that set them out from the ordinary world, some going the full 9 yards and wearing robes and cloaks, while others just carrying suspicious looking bags, some covered with strange fur and others with hairy legs sticking out and twitching. Among all these odd looking individuals that all seemed to be normal when just around one another, James was finding it quite difficult to keep sight of his parents. They had woven their way through the sea of people with ease now yet had entered a more familiar setting, and James kept getting buffeted by it, leaving him watching his parents disappear and not being able to do anything about it.

Swallowing hard, James resorted to standing completely still, just like his parents had told him to do if he ever got separated from them in Diagon Alley when he was younger. Poor James had never had his parents leave his side for even a second in any public place, let alone one as busy as this. Yet, as he thought more about it, everyone here could be trusted as they were all the same; all just friendly witches and wizards. That thought made him feel a little better, so it was a good job he didn't know that it wasn't necessarily true.

He wasn't scared, pfft. The thought of it!

"Perhaps if I get on the train and walk down the corridor then I'll find them putting my trunk in a compartment," He mumbled, already heading for the nearest door, and mentally praising himself for his good decision and staying calm in the situation.

Climbing on board, he temporarily forgot about his crisis and took a moment to gaze around with his jaw hanging on the floor. It was even more spectacular inside; although the appearance originally appeared quite dull with the plain wallpaper and murky blue seats, the laughter and joyful chattering of children brought it to life. Kids running down the halls, chasing each other; sharing sweets around full to the brim compartments; playing exploding snap and wizard chess. The atmosphere was enchanting, and James had never been happier that he could do magic in his life. Someone charged past him, clutching a tie in their fingers and waving it tauntingly at the person close behind, who shook his fist at his friend despite the toothy grin on his face.

He wandered down the corridor, pressing against the wall several times to let some boys a little older than him dart past. Previous thoughts of finding his mom and dad were dwindling; instead he just watched the others around him, smiling at their happiness. Not long after he watched a group of students chase down an escaped toad he heard his dad calling him from through the next door along. He didn't look even the least bit worried about losing his son, and instead enthusiastically waved James over.

"Knew you'd find us soon enough," He laughed, as if he had returned to his childhood days of travelling on the Hogwarts Express himself, "Find the next free compartment, or one that doesn't have many people in it. You can mingle later; I need to get your trunk on the train first."

"Got it," And once again, James was travelling down the train's corridor, peering in the windows of compartments trying to find one with at least some room in it.

He walked quite some distance, and had nearly reached the end of the train when he stopped outside a compartment with just one person in, a slumbering boy was curled up by the window with his floppy hair draping over his face. Deciding that this may be the only moderately empty compartment in the train, James scampered back down the the hall to his dad and told him to bring the trunk further down, informing him that he'd be waiting for him there. The boy still hadn't moved when James returned, sparking an interest in where this kids parents were. Perhaps they had already seen him off, or maybe they hadn't showed up at all. A sudden feeling of sadness settled over James as he realised that not everyone on the train would have someone to see them off and hug them, not everyone would have someone to wave to until the platform was out of sight. Not everyone had parents like James'.

Before he could delve any deeper into that thought, Mr Potter appeared at the compartment door, tugging at the trunk. James placed a finger to his lips to signal for the man to try and keep quiet, and Fleamont nodded respectfully. Together they managed to heave the trunk onto the luggage rack, which proved to be a difficult feat due to the stupendous amount of stuff James had packed. Wiping a bead of sweat from his wrinkled forehead, Fleamont smiled at his son and said that he should really learn to be a light packer. That wouldn't have been a bad idea considering the fact that the trunk was probably as heavy as a baby elephant, but the young lad didn't want to accidentally leave something behind and have any problems on his first day of school.

"Come on, kiddo," Fleamont placed a hand on James' back and gave him a gentle push towards the exit, "Let's say goodbye outside."

The parting of James and his parents was quite emotional, with strangled sobs from his mother, who was so much more upset than she should have been, and lots of hugs and wishes of good luck from his dad. The man comforted his wife by wrapping a bony arm around her shoulder and whispering about how their son would be home for Christmas soon. It was a lovely sight to behold - that of love and gratitude and utter admiration.

"Come on, love, you don't want to make James upset, do you?" Euphemia tried to hold back her tears as her son gave them both one last emotional hug and struggled onto the train with hundreds of other kids desperate to return to, or go to for the first time, Hogwarts.

The atmosphere seemed to be cheery and yet sad at the same time, with some waving with vigour as others standing beside them bawled whilst giving mopey waves with used tissues suffocating in tightly clenched fists. All in all, the youngest Potter was enjoying this immensely; being away from home without a family member was something he had desired to do for a long time, and by God was he going to make the most of the adventure to come.

The train began to shift as James walked down the corridor again and he lost his footing and fell into the girl in front of him. She had striking red hair that James could have sworn he'd seen earlier, and as she turned with a raised eyebrow and a taught smile James saw her rosy complexion and intoxicating green eyes. This girl was pretty. James knew that much and he wasn't even interested in girls at that point. Yet he couldn't take his eyes off her pink lips and the way they formed her words delicately.

"Are you listening?" The redhead asked, waving a hand in front of his face, and James blinked hard, ridding himself of his trancelike state.

"Uh, yeah," His neck felt itchy all of a sudden, "Sorry for falling into you."

"It's okay," She said kindly, although she still did sound a bit exasperated, and turned back around.

"What's your, um, well I was wondering what your name was?" She glanced over her shoulder and smiled as he tumbled over his words.

"Lily," Lily giggled, her laugh as sweet as fresh whipped candy floss.

Once more, her back was facing him for she had skipped off down the hall, leaving James with a dopey grin on his face. He had to shake himself out of a second trance and remind himself to get to his compartment so he could wave to his parents, but no sooner had he taken another step then the train jolted again and he was thrown violently down the corridor, the lurching making it difficult for him to drag himself into the compartment as he stumbled past it. Pulling himself upright, he glanced around, dazed, and saw that the sleeping boy from earlier was waving in a drained sort of way, he had obviously just woken up and was trying his hardest not to fall asleep again. James smiled when he saw what must have been the boys' parents beaming from ear to ear at their son and waving back, his supposed mother had happy tears rolling down her cheek, and looking to the left James saw his mother doing exactly the same thing. Fleamont and Euphemia were incredibly proud of their son, but it was obvious that this boy's parents were overjoyed, and so proud of this child that it was shining through their face.

Above the boy's head, his trunk sat on the luggage rack and a name tag was tied to the handle. James read the name out loud, squinting through his glasses to see the cursive handwriting.

"Remus Lupin," The boy, now with a name put to the face, turned slowly and James saw the bags beneath his eyes and watched as his mouth drew up into a tired smile.

"Hullo," He spoke, calm and cool, before turning back to the window and staring out at buildings of London which would soon transform into rolling green hills; the train had left the station and was speeding away from London at an abnormally fast pace.

"I'm James Potter," He sat opposite Remus and held out a hand with a side grin pulling at the right half of his face, eager to make friends.

They shook hands, and James took the time to notice the thin scar that ran over Remus' face, but decided not to mention it so as not to make things uncomfortable. Once they had shared the simple interaction, Remus again turned away, though his face was then adorned with a pleased smile, and James got the impression that this kid was reluctant to make friends.

Remus, having been wrapped in his little cocoon for so long. He was glad that someone had joined him in his compartment, but also a little worried that they'd get scared off. Not that he would actively try and scare them away, but he just knew that making close friends wouldn't end well. Best friends, as he had heard, didn't have secrets between each other, and Remus was not prepared to share his. And yet, this James kid was making him wonder if friends would be so bad. He was kind and understanding, making Remus feel wanted. Even though it was obvious that James just really wanted friends, he had already made Remus feel appreciated and not just the first boy that James had met. Even though it was evident that this acquaintance of his had seen his scars, he hadn't mentioned them, which meant that Remus already liked this boy more than most other people. Even though it was crystal clear that Remus was just some lonely kid, James had made an effort to befriend and make Remus feel respected.

Maybe it was for this reason that when another boy appeared in the doorway and greeted James, Remus didn't stare out the window, but smiled at the tall boy with the nice eyebrows.

Sirius Black had not expected to see James Potter again, but when he came across the compartment that said boy was sharing with someone else, he couldn't resist popping in to say hello. He had already walked down the whole train and had not found somewhere that wasn't crowded with potentially hostile students. At least he knew James.

The two shared quick 'hello's before Sirius turned upon the second boy, "Hey, I'm Sirius."

He watched carefully as Remus broke out into a smile, and the reason for this became apparent with the words that followed, "Nice to meet you Sirius, I'm Joking."

James burst out into uncontrollable laughter, the sound echoing through the compartment, while Sirius screwed his eyes shut and laughed silently, wheezing every so often. The joke was so stupendously unoriginal, but also so unexpected from this shy looking boy, that neither of the other two could quite believe that Remus had said such a thing.

The jester smiled at their laughs, and said, "My real name is Remus, and I promise that my jokes are better than that most of the time."

"Well, although that was very terrible," Sirius was still huffing from his laughter, "You have certainly made a good impression."

Remus' smile was almost as big as the other boys' then, and Sirius was glad to have found them. The reluctant boy that had left Grimmauld Place that morning was nowhere to be seen, and instead Sirius Black stood tall and fierce with the two boys that had made him laugh for the first time in a long time.

It was just then that a small and slightly plump boy rapped smartly on the door, sending a pleasant smile through the glass. He had kind eyes, and a dopey sort of look about him. A pile of blonde hair sat upon his head neatly, and his short fingers tugged at the strands at the back of his neck while Sirius opened the door.

"Uh, hi guys," The blonde squeaked timidly, "I was just wondering if possibly I could sit in here with you? All the other compartments are near enough full and there are explosions going off in some, but you seem nice so I just thought maybe you'd... Let me in?"

It was James that replied, excited at the prospect of more friends, "Of course! We don't bite!"

"Oh, thanks guys," The small boy scurried inside and shut the door behind him with a click, "I'm Peter, by the way. Peter Pettigrew."

"Welcome, Peter, to our humble abode," James bowed slightly as Peter entered, as if he was the Queen, and listened to him giggle.

"James, this is a train," Humour paced Sirius' words as he pointed out the obvious with a smile.

Peter sat next to Remus just as Sirius took a seat beside James, and soon the four were conversing about what aspect of Hogwarts excited them the most.

"Oh, definitely Quidditch," James put in, pointing a finger at no one in particular as if trying to make his statement seem more important than it really was, "I can't wait for that."

"First years aren't allowed to do Quidditch," Remus had extracted a leather bound book from his trunk and had it lay open on his lap, "I, personally, am excited for the learning part. Y'know, classes and such. Transfiguration, charms, etcetera."

"Pfft, nerd alert," Remus furrowed his eyebrows a little, before rolling his eyes at Sirius' childishness, "I'm definitely looking forward to rule breaking, pranks and the like. The adventure side of Hogwarts is the most appealing side of Hogwarts."

Peter spoke up, "I'm looking forward to the food, I hear it's wonderful."

Everyone laughed at his remark and agreed; the food did sound good.

Coincidence struck as the trolley lady strolled up the to compartment and slid the door open, "Anything off the trolley, dears?"

"We were just talking about food!" Sirius told her, eyeing the sweets, "I'll have a chocolate frog, please."

The old lady placed the box in Sirius' hands as he dropped the money in her old, wrinkled ones.

"What about the rest of you boys?"

"I've got my stuff," Peter pulled out a plastic lunchbox and rattled it, proof of the contents inside was apparent as they heard it move about.

Remus shook his head and denied her offer, remembering what his parents had said about how the money in his pocket was for emergency school stuff and not to be spent on sweets.

James, differing from the other three, pulled a small sack from the depths of his pockets that was filled with coins. He retrieved a few of the gold ones from this little bag and dropped them into the trolley witch's outstretched palm.

"This is a lot of money, dear," She looked down her nose at the small pile of galleons.

"Yeah, could I have one of everything, please," James spoke the words with a cheeky smile on his lips, and listened to his budding friends' reactions.

He hard Peter gasp and clap his hands in excitement, Remus let out a surprised puff - it was a pleasant but unexpected surprise - and Sirius called out 'Nice one, James!'

It wasn't long before most of the sweets had been unpackaged and consumed, Peter being the biggest culprit for the disappearance of the tasty goods. The four were happily chatting. Well, I say four, but I mean that James, Sirius and Peter chatted while Remus read, only speaking up when correcting someone or making a clever remark that made the others chuckle. It was vicinity clear that Remus wasn't quite the geek his appearance made him out to be. The book in his lap showed that he had brains, but the words that he spoke claimed him as quite a mischievous individual who put his smarts to better use than school work.

Appreciating this, Sirius and James took an instant liking to the boy with the scars, and Sirius even stated how yet made him look pretty badass.

Peter was also a lovable soul. He was sweet (or full of sweets, should I say) and rather innocent compared to the others. He seemed like the kind of boy to bring everyone cupcakes that he had baked himself and decorated with sloppy icing. His attitude was so different to the other three's that they couldn't help but like his squishy cheeks and his almost cute smile.

The remaining two, James and Sirius, could be put down as trouble just from looking at them. They both fit so perfectly together in a way that could only be described as friend love. Their hearts beat in sync and soon they were finishing each other's sentences. Hogwarts want going to know what had hit it.

And so, the four had a blast on that first train ride and became closer friends than any of them could have hoped. If only they knew then of the great things to come.