Erm. Hi? So about an hour ago I decided I need to update. So now I'm typing this chapter and hoping I get done.

Well, like I said, it's gonna take me forever to write this bothersome thing because a) I don't like writing, and b) I always have too many things to do! (I'm in Cross Country now. It's really fun but for some reason I'm terrible at it. Am I abnormal, or are there other people who love to do things they're bad at?)

Disclaimer: The Characters and Settings belong to one J.K. Rowling. She'd be a genius, except I didn't like DH. Oh well!

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"Peter! Where are you? The train's going to leave in 15 minutes!"

"Coming, Mother. I'm talking to someone."

Peter came from behind the crowd of people catching up to the train. There were all sorts of wizards and witches, and he noticed many first-year muggle-borns looking back in wonder at the wrought-iron archway with the words Platform Nine and Three-Quarters on it. He ran up to his mother, passing the mass of owls and cats and carts. He even noticed two frogs.

"Be safe, now, Peter. You're smart and brave, and I'm sure you'll be great in whatever house you get into! Don't worry about what your father said. Just be good, alright?"

"Yes, mother. But I make no promises of being good!" With that he ran to the train with his cart and got in.

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"You like the Harpies?"

"Well, they have been winning the last dozen games or so."

"Ya? Well, they're cheating!"

"How can you say that? I'll have you know, they are perfectly honest Quidditch players."

Peter had found one of his pure-blood acquaintances alone in one of the compartments reading a Quidditch magazine, and, choosing not to be alone, joined him. They were currently engaged in a 'conversation' about his compartment-mate's choice of teams.

"Frank, you may be senior to me, but you're much more naive if you think that their new captain is fully trustworthy. I mean, have you even read about him?"

"I read what he said about the tabloids, and he says they just don't like change. I'm sure he's – "

Frank was interrupted by the compartment door opening.

"Oh, hello. I'm sorry if I'm bothering you. It's just that there were a bunch of people who were insulting me, so I did a spell on them that I read in one of our school books, and something strange happened, and they all looked like they got paralyzed, so I ran…" she trailed off as Peter looked to see who had interrupted their conversation. In stepped a nervous little girl with striking green eyes and bright red hair. She looked more like a primary school child than one old enough to go to Hogwarts.

"Oh, no, it's fine" Frank replied, amused at her rambling.

"I bet they were Slytherins! My dad told me about how horrible they are to everyone."

"Everyone who is mean doesn't necessarily have to be in Slytherin, you know." The red-head seemed to agree with Frank's words.

"Er, my name is Lily Evans, by the way," the girl said, suddenly shy. "I'm going to be a first year. I suppose you'd call me a muggle-born, as well."

This girl was the first muggle-born Peter had ever seen, not counting the one that his cousin Damien had married. He wondered if she was anything like his nosey, loud-mouthed sister-in-law.

"I'm going to be a first year, too. Do you know which house you want to be in? I'm going to be in Gryffindor. My entire family's been in Gryffindor and that's where I plan to go."

She hesitated, then replied, "I don't really know. I know there are four houses, but I don't know the qualifications for them, and I don't know how you choose." Before Peter could tell her, Frank cut in.

"Oh, you'll find out. I'm sure you'll do great in whatever house you go into."

"Just don't go into Slytherin. The other Slytherines'll hate you, and so'll everyone else." Lily's face fell at that.

"Peter! Don't listen to him, Lily. He hasn't even been there yet. I've spent a whole year at Hogwarts." Turning to Peter, he said, "I also happen to know a couple of muggle-born Slytherins. True, there aren't many, but the Slytherins seem to have a system of not hating their fellow house-mates."

"You're standing up for them? When I was looking for a compartment to get into, I saw one of the Slytherins, Narcissa Black. She was talking to her younger cousin (that Sirius Black guy) about how he had to 'uphold the family honor' and 'make them proud' and 'make sure he doesn't associate with any less-than-pureblood trash'. Prejudiced pigs, they all are."

"Well, that's the Blacks, okay? Not everyone is like them. And it's not like the younger Blacks have done anything very bad, right? They're just snobs, and the best thing to do is ignore them."

Lily was confusedly listening to the conversation, and when the pause came, she tentatively asked, "Who are the Blacks? And-" she hesitated, " what did she mean by "less than pureblood trash?"

Peter started explaining before Frank could 'mess up the description'. "The Black family is an old family of prejudiced pure-blooded wizards and witches. They don't think of muggles or anyone with muggle blood as 'human', and they're such snobs they treat anyone poorer or who they think is less important as inferior. There's a bunch of families like them, who are snobbish, prejudice, pureblood families. Do you want me to list them?"

"Don't start gossiping to a poor muggle-born, Peter. She needs to make her own opinions."

"Fine. Whatever. But Lily-"

This time Peter was interrupted by someone opening the compartment door.

"Oh, hey, James. What did you do now?"

"Hey! What makes you think I did anything? You're making me look bad! And in front of such a pretty girl, too!" Suddenly turning towards Lily, James introduced himself.

"Hey, I'm James Potter; sorry for the rudeness earlier. Some people," jabbing his thumb towards Peter, "have no manners."

"Me? You're the one-"

"Hey! You just want to make me look bad so she doesn't like me! Hey, what's your name, anyway?"

Lily flushed at being addressed. "Erm, Lily Evans."

"That's a pretty name. Almost as pretty as you." Lily turned red again.

"James, stop trying to flirt with Lily. You're failing horribly. First years…" Frank trailed off.

Peter was insulted. "Hey! You aren't even a second year yet! You have no right-"

"FOOD!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" Peter saw Lily jump as James yelled, the compartment door opened, and Frank fell.

"Oh, I'm so sorry, dear. Are you alright?" A woman (probably the food cart lady that Frank had mentioned last year, Peter thought) came through the door and started to apologize to Frank. Peter was amused. Frank was not.

"Oh, I'm terribly sorry…"

"No problem, ma'am. I'm absolutely fine."

"Are you sure? Oh, I can't believe I did that… here's some snacks on me, alright, dear? I'm so sorry…"

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The food cart lady had given them enough "snacks" for four full meals, and the boys didn't hesitate to dig in as soon as she was gone. Lily, on the other hand, only had a few chocolate frogs.

"Come on, Lily, eat more!"

"Oh, no, thank you. I'm fine."

"Are you sure?" James couldn't see how anyone could NOT want more food.

"Oh, don't worry about it, James. Girls never eat much."

"Don't generalize, Peter."

"Get off my case."

"No."

"Hey, can I interrupt this love fest?" James couldn't take tension from arguing for more than a few seconds. "I think we're almost there, so we should probably change." But as Lily turned to leave, he said, "Oh, do you have to go?" She blushed, got her stuff, and stepped out of the compartment.

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I'm sorry for a mistake I made on the last chapter: I know that Hogwarts-students-to-be don't get their letters on their eleventh birthdays. They get them at the beginning of July or something like that. Well, since I don't know Pete's b-day, can I make it July 10th? Please and thank you! (Unless someone happens to know his real birthday: Then please tell me how I could rephrase the first chapter.)

Also, what do you call the food lady? I'm on holiday now, so my books aren't with me.

I realize no one has the same characteristics as they do in the books, but from my own life experience, I can say that there are many people who are complete opposites from who they grow up to be.

Well, I apologize for any bad writing. Unless you don't care. In which case that's probably bad too, but that's okay. Thank you very much for reading, and please review.