Chapter Two

I suppose we were all lonely in our own ways. Isolated by wealth, status, feelings of inadequacy. Mine was a somewhat more complicated situation. Due to my condition, I was unable to socialize normally, as it were. I was a danger to other children should I lose control at the wrong moment, and they were a danger to me should they find out what I was and seek to…exterminate me. Mum and Dad were two of the loveliest, kindest people I've ever known, and I often insisted that they were the only friends I could ever need.

But I wanted more. I yearned for the normal childhood experience, for friendships and adventures, for love and companionship. I was on the doorstep of adolescence, ready to deepen my understanding of the world and all that it held. Ahead of me instead, I saw a life of isolation, of otherness.

And then one day, Professor Dumbledore was in my room.

…

22 July, 1971

Swansea, Wales

A fun fact that Remus knew about most wizard games was that they were almost exclusively adapted from muggle variants. Gobstones was just marbles with a slight magic twist, wizard chess was…chess with violence, and most Exploding Snap variants were simply muggle versions played with cards that occasionally exploded. In fact, such a thing happened a lot from what he knew; wizards would see a muggle invention they particularly liked and adapt it for their own use with some extraneous magic added. Slap the word "wizard" on it and call muggles stupid and backward for continuing to use their version.

It was, he thought, a fairly accurate reflection of magical culture in general.

"Bishop, C8 to F5," Dumbledore said with a wave of his wand, and Remus watched gleefully as the chess piece scooted itself across the board. His was only a normal muggle chess set, but Dumbledore was animating it in his own way.

"Knight, F3 to H4," he said. Dumbledore obligingly twitched his wand, sending Remus's knight to the indicated space. Remus wasn't entirely sure what the professor was doing here or how he had even gotten in. All he knew was that Albus Dumbledore was the headmaster of Hogwarts and had been for a few years now. That was the only reason Remus hadn't called for his parents the moment the wizened old man had appeared. Not to mention, he just looked trustworthy. With long silver hair and a beard that covered his whole front, he looked the spitting image of the wizards of old, the fantasy archetypes on the front of all the classic novels. Fixing a pair of half-moon spectacles up his long and crooked nose, Albus studied the board.

"Ah," he said after a moment. "Bishop, F5 to G4. Now, tell me about yourself, Remus. You seem to have quite a quaint little home out here."

Remus smirked at that, rolling his eyes a small bit. "Out here" was the Swansea County countryside, where the nearest breath of civilization was a twenty-minute drive in Dad's beat-up old estate car. It was scenic, of course, but the only neighbor was a farmer over the next hill who spoke with a thick Cardiff accent that Remus had difficulty deciphering sometimes.

"It's quaint, sure," he said. "Bit lonely at times."

"Only at times?" Dumbledore pressed.

"Well…all the time," Remus said. "Pawn to H3."

"Oh, I daresay you're going after my bishop," Dumbledore said with a smile. "Bishop, G4 to H5. Tell me, Remus. Would you like to go to Hogwarts?"

Remus stared at him for a long moment.

"I…can't," he finally said. "My…my condition – "

"Remus, do you want to go to Hogwarts?" Dumbledore asked him again.

"Of course I do," Remus said. "I've only dreamt about it every day since Dad told me. But I'm…"

"You have a condition that makes you dangerous for a few days out of every month," Dumbledore said. "The rest of the time, however, you are a perfectly normal child. One, I should think, in dire need of friends his own age."

"…Pawn to G4," Remus mumbled, hunching his shoulders a bit. Albus Dumbledore flicked his wand at the chess piece. He smelled like spice and some unnamable cologne. Every small movement of his arm caused the rustle of his robes shifting about to fill the still silence of Remus's room.

Mum and Dad could never seem to pick up the same small movements, the same faint sounds he was able to. Dad suggested that it was his "other half" bleeding over into his human life, which Remus was inclined to agree with. When the full moon was drawing closer, his senses seemed to grow especially intense, and he felt shaky, irritable, more prone to outbursts.

Because he was…different. Dangerous.

"You are quite earnestly pursuing this bishop of mine," Dumbledore chuckled.

"If you let yourself get distracted chasing every new opportunity, you spend all your time running and never actually get anywhere," Remus said.

"That is a very poignant observation," Dumbledore told him appreciably. "For such a young one, you seem to have quite a grasp on the world."

"Dad calls me mature for my age," Remus said.

"He's very correct," Dumbledore nodded.

"Remus?" Dad's voice spoke from the hallway outside his room. "Who are you talking to?"

"Professor Dumbledore, from Hogwarts," Remus called back.

There was a second of silence while Dad internalized those words, and then the door flew open. Lyall Lupin strode into the room, his expression alarmed before turning puzzled at the sight before him. Albus Dumbledore was sitting serenely in Remus's desk chair, while Remus himself perched on the side of his bed. Both were huddled over his old chess set, obviously in the midst of a heated match.

"Good afternoon, Lyall," Dumbledore said placidly. "Would you like to play the winner?"

"What…?" Dad trailed off as Mum appeared behind him. "How did you…?"

"Lyall, you were my student for many years," Dumbledore said, his eyes giving a small twinkle that might have been a trick of the light. "I assume you at least have some grasp of what I'm capable of?"

"…That is a fair point," Dad said.

"Speaking of students," Dumbledore went on, "I came to personally deliver this to you."

He reached into his robes, withdrawing a thick envelope made of yellowed parchment. It was sealed with an actual red wax seal emblazoned with an ornate 'H', and just visible along the other side was Remus's address, printed in neat emerald lettering.

A Hogwarts letter.

"Before you object," Albus said as Dad opened his mouth to speak, "please understand that accommodations have been made for Remus's condition. Every full moon, he will be taken to a safe location away from Hogwarts, where he will pose no harm to his fellow students or to anyone else."

Remus didn't look up, didn't dare to hope lest Dad dash his moment with his usual paranoia. While overcautiousness had certainly come in handy these past six years, Remus was desperate for something, anything to make him feel like a normal boy.

"Love…maybe it's worth thinking about," Mum spoke softly into the tense silence. "After all, I don't…really know much of all this, but this man seems to be someone who knows what he's doing."

"Ah, this must be dear Hope," Dumbledore said, getting to his feet and striding over to greet Mum with a courtly bow. "My name is Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts."

"You're the first wizard I've met that's actually looked like one," Mum said, and Dumbledore chuckled genially.

"I've found that one is taken more seriously when one looks the part," he said.

"You were saying," Mum went on. "My Remus can actually go to your school? He can be normal?"

"As normal as any student of Hogwarts is able to be," Dumbledore said with a smile. "Even accounting for his condition, I believe he may even meet someone stranger."

"One can only hope," Dad muttered, staring down at the letter. Mum made her way over and sat next to Remus on his bed, draping an arm over him in a hug.

"He's been through so much," she said in a choked voice that had Remus's face heating up. She always got weepy the day or two after his change. Despite him being the one it was happening to, Remus always felt it was hardest on Mum. Being pulled into this strange world had already yanked the rug out from under her; the whole werewolf thing had to have felt like the floor dropping away beneath her before she'd even landed.

"Indeed he has," Dumbledore said with solemn nod. "But he need not spend his entire life as an outcast. It is my belief that Remus can indeed live a relatively normal childhood, one of friendship, joy, and education."

Remus finally looked up to stare his dad in the face. Lyall Lupin gazed back with a deeply thoughtful expression, before sighing and holding out the envelope to his son.

"Alright, off you go," he said in a voice thick with emotion. Remus felt a leap in his chest, gasping as he took the envelope. Springing to his feet, he wrapped his father in a warm hug, watched on by beaming Albus Dumbledore.

"Wonderful, wonderful!" he said. "Well, as much as it pains me, Remus, I believe I will have to leave our game unfinished. Consider this my forfeiture to your superior chess-playing capabilities."

"Oh, won't you stay for tea, Professor Dumbledore?" Mum asked, bustling to her feet and dabbing at her eyes. "We'd love to have you – "

"As truly delightful as that sounds, I'm afraid I must beg your forgiveness for my lack of manners," Dumbledore said. "A headmaster's work is never done, and there is far too much preparation to be done for me to leave Hogwarts unattended for long. Remus, I cannot wait for you to join your fellow students in September. Hope, it has been a pleasure to meet you. Lyall, wonderful to see you again."

"I'll show you to the door," Dad said, gesturing out of the room. The pair left, and Remus dropped back to his bed, staring down at the letter. His letter. His Hogwarts acceptance letter. He could go to school, he could learn magic like the rest of the kids his age. A drop of wetness fell onto the envelope, smudging the 'L' in his name, and he realized he'd begun to cry. Wordlessly, Mum dabbed at his face with a handkerchief.

"Mum," he said throatily, "I'm going to Hogwarts."

"You are, love," Mum said, squeezing him in a warm and tight embrace. "You certainly are."

In that moment, Remus Lupin was happier than he'd ever felt in his life.

…

All I ever wanted, all I ever really craved, was a group of friends. Just three or four lads I could spend time with, really bond and be the sort of lifelong companions someone needs.

I didn't really get on with anyone growing up. Dad was always busy with his business, and Mum had a new hobby every week, it seemed. They were brilliant, of course—wonderful parents and all that—but not only were they always off doing something, they were old. Mum had me when she was nearing forty, so by the time I was old enough to be a kid, they were going gray and turning in for the evening at nine o'clock. Their social circle all had kids about twenty years older than me.

To the rich pureblood sort, I was "new money", wealthy but not quite posh enough for them. To the ones with parents earning average income, I was the spoilt rich kid. I was trapped in a no-man's land, so to speak.

I hoped Hogwarts would change that, that among so many different kids, there would be at least one that was fit to be my friend.

Was I ever in for a treat.

…

1 September, 1971

King's Cross Station, London, England

A little-known door located within King's Cross saw next to no use nearly every day of the year. It was, to all appearances, a simple enough janitor's closet, located down a side corridor housing the lavatories. On first September, however, numerous strangely-dressed folk seemed to come wandering out of the room despite no one actually going into it. Stranger still, none of the passerby at King's Cross appeared inclined to pay the strangers any sort of mind, much too caught up in whatever train or taxi or other manner of public transport was next on their agenda. Even as numerous families bearing trollies full of luggage and the occasional caged exotic bird emerged from the door and then went running at a seemingly blank stretch of wall between platforms nine and ten, the average traveler had not even a moment's consideration to spare the odd influx of visitors the train station was receiving the particular day.

After all, London was an odd enough place; why ponder this latest strangeness when one could simply go about his life?

"Are you excited?" Mum asked as James pushed his trolley through a milling crowd of businessmen. "Today's the day."

"Of course he is," Dad chortled, puffing at his pipe. "Lad probably didn't get a wink of sleep last night, did you boy?"

"Maybe just one wink," James said, and Dad clapped him on the shoulder. He was an old-fashioned man from another era, dressed primly in a longcoat and black gloves that clutched a walking stick in one hand while his other arm was proffered to Mum. She gladly held tight to it, as eager to show off her husband as he was to show off her. Mum was…well, beautiful. The term "aging gracefully" came to mind, though that seemed to be the only way Mum did anything: gracefully. Accusations of being a trophy wife for the rising businessman were quickly dismissed when she displayed a shrewd mind for business and economics. Dad happily told anyone who would listen that he'd only made it as far as he had with his hair-care line thanks in no small part to Mum's input and advice.

They were, to James, the most perfect set of parents anyone could hope for, and for all their workaholic flaws, they loved their son dearly.

"Ready for it, my boy?" Fleamont Potter asked as they trio lingered near platforms nine and ten, James's trolley aimed squarely at the wall between the two.

"Ready as I'll ever be," James said.

"Atta boy," Dad said. "Just like I told you, now. Running start, don't hesitate, and do not shut your eyes. I did that and ran into some poor bloke on the other side, nearly bowled him over."

"We'll be just behind you, dear," Mum said with a dazzling smile.

James took a breath and pushed his trolley forward, Godfrey the black-banded owl staring him down from between the bars of his cage. The bird spared the wall a look before glancing back at James as though questioning if he was so sure about this course.

"Not to worry," James told him, assuring himself just as much as the bird. "It only looks very much like a wall."

Picking up speed, he took a deep breath and willed himself not to wince, not to close as his eyes as his trolley connected with the wall…only to continue forward into blackness. Seconds later, James emerged into Platform 9¾. A split-second after that, he skidded to a halt as a shrieking girl leapt out of his path.

"Blimey!" she gasped out. "Nearly ran me down, you did!"

"Sorry," James chuckled. "What was that sound you made?"

"The sort of sound someone makes when she's in fear for her life, thank you!" the girl spat at him. Sparing him a withering look, she disappeared into the crowd, a long plait of black hair bobbing in her wake.

"Testy," James muttered to himself.

"Making friends already?" Dad asked behind him, and his familiar hands fell onto James's shoulders. "Now imagine if you'd shut your eyes after all."

"Saved by dad's wisdom once again," James said. His father chuckled.

Weaving through the crowd with his parents, James could see a scarlet locomotive belching a mist of steam over the platform. The Hogwarts Express was an impressive sight, to be sure. Muggles knew how to travel in style, James had to admit. Dad obligingly helped him load his luggage onto the train, and James hoisted his carry-on bag and the cage containing his owl before turning to face his parents.

"Well, my dear lad," Dad said, "looks like this is where we send you off."

"Oh, my son," Mum said, her voice throaty as she stepped forward and scooped James up in a hug. "My grown-up little man, off to Hogwarts."

"Mum," James said into her shoulder. "C'mon, we're in public."

"There's not ever a wrong time for a mother to hug her son," Mum insisted, parting from him with watery eyes. "Now, you go on and have a wonderful year. Write to us, tell us all about it."

"I will, definitely," James said. They'd all but foisted Godfrey on him, after all; he had absolutely no excuse not to.

"Safe travels, lad," Dad said.

Moments later, he was on the train, wending his way through a few milling students as he moved along the corridor. Mum and Dad wouldn't linger to see him off, he knew. Dad had business in London, and neither of the Potter males were the sentimental sort. Mum would bawl, but she would throw herself back into her work and content herself with his letters.

Eventually, James found an empty compartment, depositing Godfrey's cage and his carry-on bag in an empty seat. He'd scarcely even closed the door behind him when it opened, and a grinning face peeked in. It was the boy from the bookstore, the one who'd introduced James to motorcycles. James hadn't expected to run into him so quickly, though he was pleased he wouldn't have to search him down.

"Oi, thought that was you I saw," the boy said, his eyes crossing as they fixed on a lock of dark brown hair that had fallen in his face. James couldn't help but return his grin.

"You're…Sirius, right?" he asked.

"Very rarely," Sirius said, sweeping his hair behind an ear as he stepped into the compartment and shut the door behind him. "James, yeah?"

"The one and only," James said.

"I'm sure there are others out there named James," Sirius laughed. "Not exactly an uncommon name."

"Now don't you step on my moment," James told him. They fell into seats opposite each other, Sirius tossing his own carry-on bag onto the floor nearby. "Are you Sirius Black?"

"Ugh, already?" Sirius asked with a rueful grin. "Can't leave my family behind for two minutes, can I?"

"My Dad always says the Black family are…unpleasant," James said. In fact, Dad had said a few much unkinder words about the Black family, but James was diplomatic enough not to repeat those.

"Oh, they are," Sirius said, waving an airy hand. "Everything you've heard isn't even half as bad as they can be. My cousin, Andromeda, she's pretty much cut ties with them after she left Hogwarts. I plan to do the same thing."

"Just leave your family?" James asked.

"Of course," Sirius shrugged. "They're all mental, they are. Going on about 'blood purity' and our lineage like we haven't spent the last few hundred years all marrying our cousins. That's what Andromeda says, at least."

James couldn't even imagine having such a massive family, let alone leaving them all. All his life, it had been Mum and Dad, with only the occasional visit from a distant aunt that might not even have been a relative and only a close family friend. To him, "family" was a close-knit and insular word, cozy and safe. To Sirius, it seemed to simply be a list of people to escape, a vast and stifling crowd.

"Well, I think it's brave," James finally said.

"Brave?" Sirius said with a disbelieving smirk. "Running away?"

"You're standing up for what you think," James said. "You know that blood-purity is all rubbish, and you're not letting your family change that. That's brave, like a Gryffindor."

"Oh, wouldn't that be a scandal?" Sirius cackled. "The first Gryffindor Black. I think Mother would just kick me out the house. Send me a letter telling me not to bother coming home."

"She'd save you the trouble of leaving the family, at least," James pointed out, and Sirius snorted.

"Maybe that's the trick," he said. "I need to be such a shame to our name that Mother wants nothing to do with me. A Black black sheep."

"Now, this is no joking matter," James said with a stern finger. "You need to be Sirius."

"I've told you, I rarely am!"

…

The train took off shortly after they'd gotten settled in, the corridor outside growing noisy with bustle before the students all retreated into compartments. As Sirius and James watched London give way to the comparatively quaint countryside, their compartment door slid open before a girl's voice spoke, enthusiastic but absolutely polite.

"Hello! I'm Lily and this is Severus! May we sit with you?"

James looked up into the most vibrantly green set of eyes he'd ever seen. Emeralds only wished they were so pure a shade as this girl's eyes. A freckled face, an impish smile, all framed by long and straight locks of copper hair, was there a more perfect girl?

"Yeah, sure," Sirius said while James collected himself. Scooting so the girl could sit next to him, he only then noticed that she was accompanied by a boy.

"Um…I'm James Potter," James told the pair. "That's Sirius Black."

"Are you two starting this year as well?" the girl asked. Wait, what had she said their names were? Lily. And Severus? Well, it seemed a fitting name, James decided.

Severus was thin in a pinched an unhealthy way, with a clammy sort of pallor that made him look sickly. His hair was long and black, hanging about his face in a somewhat greasy curtain. A prominently hooked nose dominated his face, giving him a vulture-like appearance. To imagine him as Lily's friend was laughable; the two couldn't be more apparently different. She had to have just met him on the platform and taken pity on the poor boy.

"Why are you already in your robes?" Sirius asked with a small grin. "We won't be there for hours."

"I like them," Severus spoke in a low voice, staring steadfastly out the window.

"Likes being smartly-dressed, he does," James muttered, and Sirius snickered.

"Don't make fun of him," Lily scolded the pair with a small pout. "I think he looks handsome."

"I think he looks like a vampire," Sirius said. James burst out laughing, and Severus ducked his head to hide behind his limp locks of hair. Feeling a bit bad (especially with the look Lily was giving him), James stifled himself and attempted to make peace.

"So…what house you think you'll be in?" he asked.

"I don't really know," Lily said wonderingly. "You?"

"Gryffindor, of course," James said with a grin. "Where else?"

"Of course, they divided the school into four houses so everyone could go into one," Severus drawled, and Lily giggled at that. James felt his face heat up.

"And where will you go?" he asked. "Down the dungeons with the Slytherins?"

"What's wrong with Slytherin?" Severus asked.

"Nothing if you're a greasy vampire, I suppose," Sirius said. "Maybe they'll give you your own special crypt."

"You two are being really rude!" Lily huffed. "Maybe we should go sit somewhere else, Severus. These two boys are just going to bluster the whole time."

"I agree," Severus said, getting to his feet as Lily did the same. With one final pout over her shoulder at James, Lily ushered Severus from the compartment. Alone, James and Sirius met eyes and snickered.

"Girls," Sirius muttered.

"Too right," James said.

…

Countryside flew by the windows as the Express rumbled northward, treating them to scenic vista after vista. Occasionally, they saw a village in the distance, and James found himself curious, wondering what a provincial life in such a picturesque hamlet could be like. Home for him was a manor Dad had bought once his Sleekeazy line had made it big. Opulent and somewhat excessive at times (there were several rooms James hadn't been in for months), it was certainly a far cry from the rustic cottages of whatever bit rolling green they were passing through.

When the sun was high in the sky, a voice could be heard calling out in the corridor.

"Aaaanything from the trolley!?"

"Oi, 'bout time," Sirius said. "Starving here."

"Reckon they have Cauldron Cakes?" James asked.

"It's the Hogwarts Express," Sirius said with a roll of his eyes. "They won't skimp on the snacks."

Neither did the pair, as the combined force of old money and new sought to ensure that they would most assuredly spoil their supper with the number of snacks they bought and subsequently consumed. Cauldron Cakes, Pumpkin Pasties, Licorice Wands, an army of Chocolate Frogs that they set loose after locking the compartment door and attempted to wrangle and eat. None were safe from the appetites of two voracious boys.

Soon, when the number of sweets had even the pair feeling a bit ill and ready for a proper meal, they took to chatting about quidditch while their stomachs settled. James was quite a fan, favoring Puddlemere United.

"They're looking really good this year," he said to Sirius, who it seemed had no favorite team but rather enjoyed watching the games when he could.

"I just wish there was wizard television like there's the wizard wireless," Sirius said. "Muggles, they put their sports on the television so anyone can watch them. If you're not at a quidditch game, you get to, what…listen to it. How dull is that?"

"I've heard of television," James said. "It's a little box sort of thing, right? Like a portrait."

"Oh, it's better than a portrait, it's ace," Sirius said. "There are different stations you can watch. And they have shows."

"Like…plays or musical shows?" James asked.

This led to a lengthy explanation of television shows, which Sirius only barely understood himself but seemed quite keen to talk about with James. It seemed no one else in his family shared his enthusiasm for the medium of television. By the time the sun was beginning to dip closer to the western horizon, the pair had resolved to consult Albus Dumbledore himself about getting a television for the Gryffindor common room.

"If I get into Gryffindor," Sirius said. "I'm still not sure if I'm ready for the howler Mother would absolutely send me if I did."

"You should send her one back," James said. "Just make every letter you send home a howler."

"Just bellowing at full blast how my week's been," Sirius chuckled. "'DEAR MOTHER, I'VE HAD A REALLY GOOD WEEK! I PASSED MY TRANSFIGURATION TEST AND LEARNED HOW TO MAKE AN APPLE TAPDANCE!'"

"Oi, everything alright in here?" an older boy's voice spoke as he peeked his head in. He had a handsome face, James noted, with a dusting of hair that was very nearly a stubble. Brushing a blond fringe from his face, he peered between the pair. "You two getting along?"

"Famously," James said.

"Yeah, I'm gonna send weekly howlers home to Mother," Sirius said. The boy blinked several times at that, smiling wryly.

"Well, let's hold off on the demonstrations, eh?" he said. "We wouldn't want to disrupt anyone else's train ride."

"You a prefect?" James asked, and the boy rolled his eyes.

"I'm going to be seeing a lot of you, aren't I?" he asked. "Frank Longbottom. Gryffindor prefect."

"My dad was in Gryffindor," James said. "I'm hoping I am."

"House affiliation does tend to run in the family," Frank Longbottom said, and Sirius snorted at that.

"That's what I'm afraid of," he said. "Sirius Black."

"…Well, even with the shouting, I like you better than most of your family already," Frank chuckled. "Andromeda was a bit alright, though. I liked her."

"Everyone outside my family likes her," Sirius smirked.

"Anyhow, you two ought to get your uniforms on," Frank told them. "I expect we'll be there within the hour."

Outside, the sun was now much closer to the horizon, casting an orange glow that set long slanting shadows through the trees. The air floating through the open window had grown cold and damp as evening encroached, and now that he was aware of the passage of time, James realized that he was famished. The sugary sweets they had gorged on earlier had only left him wanting for something more substantial.

"Could do for some food, eh," Sirius said once Frank had left them to change. The two were now back-to-back, pulling on their fancy uniform trousers and tucking in shirts. Of course, both being from their own manner of high-society circle, they knew how to properly attire themselves. Ties were done straight and proper, cuffs were precisely folded, and collars were arranged in a neat Windsor spread. Out in the corridor, it was apparent that most of the other students weren't so learned in the arts of wearing a proper suit. Others their age were hurrying along the car, beseeching the older students for help in tying a tie or otherwise situating their uniforms.

"Well, at least a poncey upbringing was good for something," James admitted to himself.

"Right, that's one thing," Sirius said. "Not sure it's worth it."

Soon, the train had slowed to a halt outside Hogsmeade Station, and a scrum formed outside their compartment as students spilled out onto the platform. James and Sirius shared one last glance before joining the fray.

Out in the cool night air, the sun had disappeared completely, leaving the crowd at the mercy of beaming moonlight and the flickering lanterns spaced along the platform. As the crowd milled about, a booming voice shouted overhead.

"Firs' years this way! Firs' years, yeh lot come'n foller me!"

Amidst the crowd of uniformed students, a man stood out in every way possible. Not only was he dressed in some sort of animal-skin coat, he absolutely towered over even the seventh-years by almost a full meter. His hair was black as onyx and voluminously shaggy, matched only by an equally burly beard that obscured his chest.

"Are we about to be kidnapped by a wild man?" James asked.

"I'd still take him over my family," Sirius said.

"That's Hagrid," a voice spoke behind them, and they both turned to see a brown-haired boy lurking nearby. "Dad told me about him. He's the gamekeeper."

"That feels like something they should include in the letter," Sirius said after a moment. "'By the way, you should follow Hagrid when you get here. He's the great big giant, so don't be scared.'"

"Maybe they used to, but it scared off muggle-borns?" the boy suggested as they set off in Hagrid's wake. "You get this letter about a school of magic, that's unbelievable enough. Then they tell you about the giant man you should definitely trust?"

"I wouldn't buy it," James said. "That's definitely some sort of racket."

As the first-years were led down a lovely wooded path lit by insubstantial lantern-light, the noise of the platform grew distant, leaving only the quiet chatter of the students. James thought he heard Lily speaking to another girl further behind him, but he didn't catch any words. The brown-haired boy struck up a conversation with Sirius, introducing himself as Remus Lupin.

"What house you lot think you'll be in?" he asked.

"Gryffindor," they answered as one, and James grinned at Sirius. Well, at least he'd accepted his fate.

"I was thinking Ravenclaw wouldn't be so bad," Remus spoke.

"Ravenclaws are a bunch of swots," James said. "Plus, you have to answer a riddle just to get into your common room. I'd rather not wrack my brains just trying to get to bed."

"You have to answer a riddle?" Remus asked disbelievingly. "Just to get to your common room?"

"That's what Mum told me," James said. "She was a Ravenclaw. Dad says Potter men always marry a smart one to keep 'em sharp."

"More like remind you how dull you are," Lily spoke behind him as she passed by. James smirked at her.

"You offering?" he asked. Lily only poked her tongue out at him before disappearing into the crowd as they clustered by an old wooden dock. Bobbing in the water, a fleet of small rowboats occasionally thudded quietly against each other.

"Alrigh' yeh lot," Hagrid called over the children. "No more'n four ter a boat, now."

"Do you get seasick?" James asked the other two.

"Guess we'll find out," Remus said.

"Do they keep all of these boats just to use once a year?" Sirius asked. "Or d'you reckon you could, say, rent one and go fishing in the lake?"

"Why would you want to go fishing?" James asked as they clambered into one of the boats.

"Not saying I'd want to," Sirius asked. "Just wondering if it's possible."

"Ask Hagrid sometime," James said.

"Reckon you'd have to shout up just for him to hear you," Sirius said.

They were joined in their boat by another boy. Short and a bit squat, his watery eyes glistened even in the darkness as he climbed in without even asking.

"Yeah, sure, hop in," Sirius said dryly, and the boy shrank in on himself.

"Sorry," he said. "Um…I could get in another boat."

"No, Sirius is just grumpy because he wants to go fishing," James said, grabbing the newcomer by his collar and pulling him back to his seat. The boat rocked a bit before the entire fleet set off across the water. "See? You would've fallen in."

"What's your name?" Remus asked.

"Peter," the boy said. "Peter Pettigrew."

Peter was a mousy boy, with small eyes and somewhat prominent front teeth. His hair was the most indiscriminate brown color James had ever seen. Any lighter, James figured, and it would have just been the same color as his skin. He was a nervous thing, darting his gaze around like he expected any of the other three to attack him at a moment's notice.

"What house you think you'll be in, Peter?" James asked, figuring a bit of friendly conversation would put the poor thing at ease.

"Um…I'd like to be in Gryffindor, but I don't think I'm brave enough," Peter said.

"Oh, that's silly talk," James said. "You walked up to a boat with three strangers and climbed right in like you owned the thing."

"I thought you did own it," Remus said with a grin.

"Peter the Boatman, they'll call you," Sirius smirked. "You can come fishing with me."

"Oh, lads, look," James said as the fleet rounded an outcropping of rock. Up ahead, Hogwarts castle loomed in the darkness. Pinpricks of light filled the occasional window, reflecting like stars in the mirror black of the lake. From this angle, they couldn't see the Great Hall but for the ceiling, jutting proudly into the night sky.

"Isn't that a sight?" Sirius asked.

"Ripe for the taking," James said.

As they neared the shore, a cliff overtook their view of Hogwarts, the mouth of a cave soon swallowing up the boats. Then they were floating up to a simple stone dock, the boats lining up and depositing them next to a massive wooden door. Hagrid led the way, raising a fist the size of a small child and rapping his knuckles against it.

Seconds later, the door opened, and they were presented with a stern-looking woman wearing deep emerald robes. Her dark red hair was pulled away from her face into a severe bun, giving her the look of a classic schoolmarm. She looked about Mum's age, James wanted to guess—perhaps even a bit younger—and she was actually rather pretty to look at.

James would never tell her that, of course; he'd probably get put in detention for a week.

Or a year.

"Professor McGonagall, the firs' years for yeh," Hagrid said with a flourish that nearly knocked a boy off his feet.

"Thank you, Hagrid," the professor said in a crisp voice. Fixing a beady look down at the huddled children, she remained silent until all chatter died down under the weight of her gaze. "Follow me, everyone. Keep up and do not wander. I will not hesitate to put any one of you in detention on your first night here."

"Yes, Miss," Sirius muttered next to James, who slapped him in the arm.

"Come along," Professor McGonagall told them, leading the way into the castle.