By the time September 1 came around, Remus was exhausted. The last full moon had not been an easy one. It left him with deep scratches over his back, chest and legs which couldn't be healed magically, the worst of which was a deep gash on his right shoulder blade that his father had needed to bandage for him. The bandages were visible beneath his loose t-shirt and as he packed his trunk he kept pausing to re-adjust the neck so it covered them. When he stooped in front of his mirror to pick up the brass telescope he had been fiddling with the night before, he noticed it had slipped yet again. Frustrated, he threw the telescope into his trunk and yanked of the t-shirt, revealing a pale, skinny frame covered in pink scratches and white scars. Turning away from his worn reflection, he walked over to his trunk and packed the telescope more carefully, wrapping it in his t-shirt.

"Remus, are you ready? We need to leave soon!" His father's voice carried through the house. Remus hurriedly collected the rest of his things and piled them haphazardly in his trunk, taking one of the carefully folded polo-neck sweaters and tugging it roughly over his head as he did so. Taking one last look around his messy bedroom, he jumped on the lid of his trunk and, with some difficulty, fastened the lock.

"Ready father!" He called, slinging his satchel over his shoulder and heaving his trunk through the door. His mother joined him in the hallway.

"Are you sure you're not forgetting something?" She asked, stooping to take Remus' trunk from him. He started checking things off with his fingers.

"Robes, wand, telescope, cauldron, potions ingredients, quills, ink, parchment, books… Books! My book!" He exclaimed, running immediately back into his bedroom. He emerged moments later gripping his treasured copy of Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them, which he was already one quarter of the way through. His mother smiled as she watched him place it carefully into his satchel. Though she had been married to a wizard for twelve years and knew a lot about the magical world, she still enjoyed listening to Remus recounting the adventures of Newt E. Scamander. Even if he was telling her something she already knew, she loved the way his face lit up like a globe while he was talking. It was the happiest she had ever seen her son. Her insides clenched at the thought of not seeing him until Christmas, but she swallowed these emotions and grinned at Remus.

"Ready to start your adventure?" she asked him. He nodded back, his entire skinny frame shaking with the force of the movement. "Then let's go!"

The car ride into London was short and uneventful. Remus' mother drove and the family sang along to the muggle radio station she liked, which played a mix of the newest releases and older classics. As they wound their way through the narrow London streets a thought occurred to Remus.

"Dad?" He asked, over the loud chorus of David Bowie's Changes (a family favourite). "Dad!" He shouted, when he got no reply. Remus' father turned down the volume and spun in his seat to look at him.

"Yes, son? Is something wrong?" He asked, a look of concern replacing the smile on his face.

"No, not at all," Remus answered, "I was just wondering… Could I take a radio to Hogwarts?" His father thought for a minute.

"I don't see why not." He said finally. Remus grinned.

"I think taking a radio is a brilliant idea!" His mother chimed in. "How about one of those little pocket ones?" She scanned the streets they passed on their way to the station, looking for a record store. Finally, two streets over from King's Cross, they got lucky. Remus jumped out of the car and ran into the store ahead of his mother, while his father waited in the idling car. Inside the store was almost as magical as Diagon Alley. A hazy smoke filled the air with a peculiar scent; shelves of records lined the walls, organised alphabetically and sporting covers of every color of the rainbow; Diana Ross's I'm Still Waiting (the current no. 1 hit) rang out from the record player on display at the counter; bright posters advertising singles, records and tours plastered every available wall; and in a display case next to the counter was a selection of portable pocket radios. Remus made a bee-line for them as his mother entered behind him, turning up her nose slightly at the smell. She joined Remus in browsing the radios and together they selected a small cherry red model. As they approached the counter to pay, Remus noticed a sign behind the desk, Free poster with every purchase! and dashed off to choose one. A few minutes later he was walking out of the shop with a large black and white poster rolled up under his arm and the brand new radio wrapped safely in newspaper, his mother inhaling deeply now that they were back in fresh air. After driving the two blocks to the station Remus tucked the radio carefully into his satchel, then crammed the poster into his overflowing trunk with great difficulty.

Accompanied by his parents he wound his way through the maze of platforms, his eyes focused on the signs above the platforms. As he approached platforms nine and ten he expected to see his platform materialise in the same way as the sign above the Leaky Cauldron, but even as he got closer nothing happened. He began to panic and looked frantically about the station for any sign of Platform Nine-and-Three-Quarters. Worry and doubt began to creep in to his mind, and for a moment he was struck with the fear that his condition made him unable to see the platform. He turned to his parents, about to voice his fears, when his father caught hold of his shoulder and spun him towards the brick barrier between platforms nine and ten.

"Remus," he began, his tone serious, "I want you to watch me, and then follow with your mother. Make sure you hold onto her." He turned from them and strode quickly and purposefully toward the barrier. As he neared it, his pace quickened to a jog, the trolley containing Remus' trunk veering slightly on it's old, rusty wheels. Remus watched as his father made no signs of slowing and cried out, expecting to see him collide with barrier at full impact, expecting to hear a loud crash as the trolley, his trunk, and his dad raced head-first into the bricks. Instead, Remus' father passed through the barrier as though it were made of thin air. Confounded, Remus stood for a moment, staring the spot where his father had vanished, and reached his hand out to hold his mother's. She took it and squeezed it gently. After they both recovered from the shock of Remus' father's sudden disappearance, his mother spoke.

"Well… I suppose we better follow him." She looked uncomfortable at the idea, an emotion Remus mirrored. Still, he took a deep breath and squared his shoulders, staring down the barrier.

"On three." He told his mother, gripping her hand tightly.

"One."

Remus began to walk to wards the barrier, his mother striding nervously beside him.

"Two."

He began to jog, half to keep up with his mother's longer strides and half in an effort to quell the nerves racing through every inch of his body.

"Three!"

He squeezed his eyes shut and broke into a run, his mother quickening to keep up with him. Suddenly, with a sensation like that of passing through a cloud, he could hear a roar of sound around him. Cautiously he opened his eyes and found himself observing a large, bustling crowd on an old-fashioned train platform. Witches and wizards in robes of all colours rushed this way and that, fussing over their children and calling out greetings to friends, and students gathered in groups, catching each other up on their holidays. Steam was gushing over the platform and Remus's eyes searched for its source, eventually resting on a huge scarlet steam engine bearing the title The Hogwarts Express. He gaped in awe at the size and beauty of the train, nothing like the engines he saw speeding down the tracks near their home.

"Pretty spectacular, hey?" Came the voice of his father, grinning at his son's wonder. "Come on, we'll find you a compartment." He led Remus and his mother into one of the carriages, passing compartment after compartment of Hogwarts students, young and old. Finally, towards the end of the train, they found a few empty ones. Remus's father stowed his trunk and took a small, wrapped box from his pocket, handing it to his son. Remus looked at him questioningly.

"Just something for the journey." He said, and shared a mischievous smile with Remus' mother. The conductor's whistle sounded from outside and his father drew him into a tight hug to say good bye, followed by a longer, teary embrace from his mother. They stepped back on to the platform and called to Remus through the compartment's open window.

"Stay safe baby!" "Have fun son!" "Don't forget to write us!" The whistle sounded again, cutting off the rest of their shouts, and with a heave the steam engine slowing began to move. Remus waved to his parents until the train rounded a bend and he could no longer see the platform, then drew himself back into his compartment, feeling s few tears making warm tracks down his cheeks. Now that his parents were gone and he was alone his nerves began to sink in. What if something happened? What if someone found out? What if he arrived at the school and discovered he was no longer welcome?

He closed the compartment window and drew his satchel to his chest, wondering if this was a good idea after all. In the corridor he heard students laughing and talking, playing games with their friends and searching for compartments. No one came to his, however, and so there he stayed, alone, like always.