Chapter Three: The First Years

"Do I really have to go?"

"What a question, of course you're going."

"Can't I wait a year...or four?"

"I couldn't wait for my first year at Hogwarts, it was the most exciting day of my life, and just you wait it will be exactly the same for you. Now, where are your gloves?"

"It won't be just the same."'

"The grey ones dear...what was that?"

"I said it won't be just the same for me as it was for you."

"Did you pack them in your trunk? How do you mean dear?"

"You're father wasn't the Minister of Magic!"

"Neither is yours, pet, ah, here they are. Don't dawdle so Willimena, do you want to miss the train?"

"Yes."

"Darling-"

"It's going to be just like at primary school. They'll all hate me, and they'll tease me, and I won't have any real friends."

"You have to-"

"I want to go to the muggle academy!"

"They teach absolutely nothing but nonsense at that school, it's not an institute of learning at all. Besides, how would it look if the granddaughter of the Minister of Magic didn't attend Hogwarts? Do you want them to think you're a squib?"

"They can think whatever they like, as long as they leave me alone!"

"You're cousin has had a fabulous time."

"That's because he's a lot bigger than I am, and he's had a lot of practice at pummeling the people who make fun of him." Willimena didn't add that her older cousin , Wendy Wilbur Westing, didn't get bugged about being the grandson of the Minister of Magic because people were usually too preoccupied tormenting him about his first name to pay any attention to his last.

"Well then you will just have to let him teach you."

"So you think it would be better for me to be found brawling in the halls of Hogwarts than attending a muggle school?"

"Students have been brawling in the halls of Hogwarts for generations, its a time honored tradition and completely respectable under the right circumstances. Hiding from what you are, however, is nothing but cowardice. I don't care who your grandfather is, you are MY daughter, and you will not be a coward. Now put your gloves on and lets be on our way young lady."

Willimena Wisteria Westing, the granddaughter of Minister Wendall Westing, had no choice. When her mother said march, you marched. Silently cursing herself for not escaping through the window that morning, she collected her gloves from where she had hidden them under the mattress and followed her mother and the house elf with her trunk out the door and into the London morning.

&

Sally Murgatroyd, on the other hand, had been up since dawn. Face washed, dress and robes pressed, her hair plaited to perfection down her back, she looked the picture of an eager young witch. This only served to thoroughly annoy her two older brothers when they stumbled out of bed and down to breakfast, after their mother had come into their rooms and physically removed their sheets, then sent in the house elves to dump cold water over them. Rupert and Despard had never been what you could call "morning people."

"God's teeth, how long have you been up?" Rupert growled, seeing Sally sitting in front of a now clean plate, serenely sipping tea while he attempted to bolt down toast.

"Hurry up you two! I'll not have Sally miss the train on her first time to Hogwarts!"

Their mother had been bustling about since about an hour after Sally woke up. Not because there was a terrible lot to do, but this was Mrs. Murgatroyd's first day as an empty-nest parent, and she knew of no other way to handle this serious accusation of age than to bustle as much as possible while her children were still at home. She had moved the trunks about in the front hall four times, made Sally recheck her packing list three times, and was starting on her second pot of coffee.

Despard , on the other hand, merely rolled his eyes. "Oh, you're eager now, just wait until you blow something off in potions class, then you'll wish you hadn't been so hasty. Then you'll wish you were back home, learning baby steps in primary and sleeping in till a decent hour."

Sally grinned and shook her head. "No I wouldn't."

Despard turned to his younger brother and shook his head. "We went seriously wrong with her somewhere Rupert, I just can't figure out where."

"Maybe it was reconsidering selling her to that traveling circus when she was two."

"Possibly."

"Boys!" Their mother stood in the doorway, hands on her hips. Sally swung her feet in excitement, too happy to take any notice of her brother's teasing.

"You were talking to Mrs. Logan, and it was hot, and the fellow said he would give us each a dozen chocolate frogs for her."

"Thinking back, we would have been overcharging him."

"Something about using her in the finale in the hippogriff baiting act..."

"Come to think of it, didn't he try and buy Euri Logan as well?"

"Sure, but Plato said he had plans for his little sister and wouldn't let him have her."

"That's when he doubled the chocolate frog offer, didn't he?"

"We've really been far too good to you, Sal."

A bell rang at the door.

"Carriage is here!" Sally positively flew out of her chair to grab her cloak from the hook in the hall and help her father load up her trunk.

"Come along boys!" Her mother bustled through, clearing plates and actually removing the still egg-laden fork from her son's hand.

"But I haven't finished breakfast yet!"

"You should have been up earlier, you're old enough to know the drill by now, out you go!"

As the boys climbed into the carriage they found Sally already waiting, ankles crossed, neat as you please, with two large bundles on her lap. She passed one very stuffed linen napkin to Rupert, and the other to Despard, who hid them away just as their mother was closing the front door. Despard smelt the sausages, eggs, and toast and gave his sister a smacking kiss on the cheek. He turned to his younger brother.

"I knew we kept her around for a reason."

& &

The scene in the Leaky Cauldron, however, was much less serene. The inn was booked, every single room taken, full of students from the country who had stayed the night before taking the Express to Hogwarts.

Tom Thatcher knew all about Hogwarts students, he had two boys of his own, and like Mrs. Murgatroyd, was sending his youngest off to his first year this morning. It gave Tom a sense of accomplishing something, a sense of peace. That peace was quickly shattered by the chaos and unholy amount of noise made by one family of guests.

They were, in fact, his only family of guests. And there were fifteen of them, all related, all loud, all unaccompanied.

When Caroline Parker had appeared in his fire two months ago to inquire if he would be willing to "look" after her and her sisters' children for one night between their journey from the north and their departure on the Hogwarts Express, he had said "Why certainly." The response had been automatic, he had been distracted, he had been preoccupied, he had been medically incapable of making such a decision, he had simply not realized that this was THE Mrs. Parker, that her sister was Mrs. Clark, and her sister-in-law was Mrs. Logan.

Their collective spawn were more commonly known as the Roman Circus. Six Parkers, five Clarks, four Logans, three owls, two cats, and one miniature carnivorous tree.

Their mothers were no doubt at this very moment dancing naked in the wilds of Scotland out of sheer joy, for this year the last of their children were starting school. The Circus was now complete.

Complete, and squarely in the lap of Tom Thatcher, who had felt things could often get out of control with just two children.

He had resolved this morning not to get involved, to just let the children take care of themselves. He had then immediately started up the stairs in panic, as he realized that if the Romans didn't make the train there was little question as to where they would be spending the night. He found, to his great shock, however, that his presence wasn't needed. Fifteen children between the ages of seventeen and ten was indeed chaos, but the Clarks, the Logans, and the Parkers were used to chaos, and they managed it well.

The children were all awake and over half were dressed by half past nine. Tom poked his head into the first room to find Caesar Parker standing over his youngest brother Marcus, checking a list item by item before closing the trunk, and eating a bowl of porridge at the same time.

Tom didn't recall the children ordering breakfast brought up, and as he went to check on this found himself easily sidestepped on the stairs by a cheerful and heavily laden Cassandra Clark, who was carrying four more bowls of porridge and a jug of pumpkin juice, with what Tom assumed to be glasses clinking in the deep pockets of her dress.

He stood, transfixed by the balancing act as she entered the third room, shouting "If she's not up by now 'Genie just empty the wash basin on her!" Moments later a shrill shout was heard, to be followed by the emergence of the sodden figure of Calisto Clark, her nightgown covered in a large purple dressing gown, clutching the empty wash basin in one hand as she stalked away from him toward the bathroom.

She was met in the hall by a curious and more than slightly amused eleven year old boy, who had emerged from the fourth room and looked as if he was about to say something.

"One word Cassius, I swear just one word and this time the color change will be permanent."

Cassius dropped his smile and averted his gaze until his sister passed him by. For a moment Tom thought he might lose control and begin to laugh, but he was saved by the voice of one of the Clark girls.

"Cassius! Get in here and eat your breakfast NOW!"

A taller boy darted out of the fourth bedroom, struggling with his tie and ruffling Cassius' hair as he passed. "Come on old man, before it gets cold." That boy stepped into the third bedroom, from which there came a booming, "Inspection!" followed by the sound of a small stampede.

"Socrates, do you call that a tie?"

"Calisto normally does it, and she slept in! Don't look at me like that Ari, you don't have to tie it every day if you take it off real careful, you know."

"You can't call yourself a man and have your cousin tie your school ties. Watch Plato again, and when I come back I want to see it done properly."

"You know, this whole authority thing has gone straight to your head."

"If it weren't for me you would have left your wand in the carriage. Start taking care of yourself and we'll stop treating you like a baby."

"Speaking of babies, Ari, where's Euri?"

"She's not here?"

"She's...ugh, who invented these things anyway...she went with Electra...does this look right?"

"Went with Electra? Where did they go?"

"Something about last minute errands, the twins took them into the ally early this morning."

"What! Caesar! Cassandra!"

Tom flattened against the wall as the two called came at a run. When Aristotle Logan used that tone, something was seriously wrong."

"What is it? Everyone's up, everyone's packed." Caesar looked around.

"And fed," Cassandra added, taking a sip of pumpkin juice.

"And accounted for?"

"Um," Tom could almost hear the other two reckoning in their heads, it didn't take long.

"Damn it all, Julius! Augustus!"

"Electra!"

"According to Socrates they all went into Diagon Ally early this morning, and they took Euripides with them."

"What?"

"Impossible, I charmed that door myself."

"Oh the twins worked out how to beat that years ago."

By this time the Clark girls (minus Electra), Cassius, and Marcus Parker had gathered in the doorway.

"Do we owl mother?"

"Cassius, the first thing you need to learn about going away to school is that you NEVER, EVER owl mother."

"Besides, she and Aunt Caroline and Aunt Isobel are probably out dancing in the fields by now."

"What time is it?"

"Quarter till ten."

"Damn it all, we need to leave in fifteen minutes!"

"Calm down, it never takes that long to get to the station, they've got to be back soon."

Ten minutes later the remaining eleven children were assembled in the main dining room, their trunks stacked near the door, Caesar staring impatiently at the door to the ally while Aristotle waited for the carriages from the street and Cassandra checked upstairs to make sure nothing was left behind.

At precisely ten o'clock, three things occurred: Cassandra came down the stairs with three pocket handkerchiefs, two sets of gloves, a hairbrush, a comb, and a cat that had been left in the bedrooms; the carriages pulled up and Aristotle began directing the loading of the trunks; and the door to Diagon Ally opened to reveal the twin figures of Julius and Augustus Parker, Electra Clark, and little Euripides Logan, who were all smiling and laughing until they saw the faces of their siblings and cousins.

Julius broke the silence, "I just want to point out that we ARE on time."

& &

"Ugh, mother he's got jam all over my robes, jam!"

"Oh darling, now he's too small to-"

"He is old enough to know the difference between a tea towel and my clothes! Why did he have to come along?"

"Well I couldn't very well leave him at home with Nana, not with her heart condition, and you know Agnes is no longer working in the nursery so until they get us another barrel- don't make that face dear heart, he is your brother."

"He's a monster."

Mrs. Keating thought of how well her oldest child had behaved when SHE was three, but thought the better of it. Handful or not, Veronica had never driven quite so many people to tears as her baby brother.

"Well, you'll be rid of him soon I daresay, mind the drop there darling, press on, the platform is just this way."

Diana Keating was thinking of her first days at school, and hardly noticed the distinguished looking gentleman standing beside the platform until he approached her. Mrs. Keating's trained eye easily recognized the lines of his very expensive robes; a Ministry man, that was obvious.

"Mrs. Keating, I presume? I'm Mr. Forsythe."

"Pleasure to meet you, Mr. Forsythe, I'll be happy to meet with you in a moment, but if you'll just let me see my daughter onto the train."

"Yes, that's what I am here about, Mrs. Keating."

"I don't understand."

"The Hogwarts Express is a very special, very distinguished, very cherished locomotive, and it is out of concern for it's safety and the ever urgent need for an on time departure that the Ministry has banned your son from the platform."

"Excuse me?"

"Your son is not allowed to pass onto the platform while the Express is in the station."

"This is outrageous!"

"Diana? Diana what's going on?"

"Oh, Clarice, you couldn't imagine what this man is suggesting..."

Veronica, who thought that this was all marvelous, turned around to see the red haired woman, Clarice, just behind them. The conversation was blocking the way onto the platform, and a rather conspicuous line of children and trunks and owls was piling up.

The woman had a blue and silver pin with the initials W.A.S in raised letters, so Veronica assumed she was one of her mother's "society girls." She was trailed by a tall gentleman with a brown mustache, a girl with brown curls, and a small boy that could be no older than three, whose face was positively covered with jam.

She locked eyes with the girl, who took note of Veronica's equally sticky brother; the pang of sympathy and stab of camaraderie was instant. Veronica grinned and walked over.

"Hello there," smiled the gentleman, "You must be Veronica? I'm Mr. Lawrence, this is my daughter Deirdre, she's starting this year as well."

"Unbelievable treatment!" Veronica's mother raised her voice.

Mr. Lawrence sighed and gave the girls a conspiratorial wink. "Let's see if I can smooth this over before lunch, hmmm? Watch your brother Deirdre."

Deirdre groaned, slipped a handkerchief out of her father's passing pocket, and wrapped her hand in it before taking her brother's.

"This is Arthur. He is the messiest creature on the planet."

Veronica shrugged. "They won't even let my brother on the platform."

Deirdre's eyes widened in appreciation. "Wow."

Mr. Lawrence came back over. "All right, they're not letting your brother come through Veronica, and no one is willing to hold him, they refuse to let him run loose, so go say goodbye to your mother, and then I'll get you two settled on the train. Say goodbye to mother as well Deirdre, she and Arthur are going to stay with Mrs. Keating."

Overcome with joy, Veronica ran back to her mother, who was spitting mad and speaking very fast with Mrs. Lawrence, and who merely patted her on the head and gave her a quick kiss and a bit of trite advice about keeping her gloves clean. Veronica dashed back to Mr. Lawrence, who had stacked her trunk easily on top of Deirdre's; in the next instant he had placed herself and Deirdre on top of the trunks and was wheeling them, to Veronica's delight and slight alarm, straight towards the wall.

"All right girlies, hang on tight and away we go!"

Veronica twisted around to wave back over her shoulder. "Goodbye Typhon!"

A very sticky, very demented face trying to inhale a cookie was the last thing she saw before Mr. Lawrence pushed her through the wall and she disappeared. Had she dashed back out she would have been rewarded with the sight of Typhon swallowing too quickly in his surprise, and nearly choking, necessitating a good solid thwack on the back from his mother, which pitched him over and into Oliver. This started them both crying, resulting in both Mrs. Lawrence and the indignant Mrs. Keating being hustled out of King's Cross by a very haggard looking Ministry official, taking their mewling offspring with them.

&

Abigail Vincent stepped back just in time to avoid being run over by a large trolley containing two trunks and two girls about her own age.

She watched the cart being wheeled toward the train with a stab of envy. Her own father was not there. Mr. Hugo Vincent Sr. was a senior overseer in the Experimental Potions Department, and due to an event which her father would not talk about which had occurred over the summer, he was not allowed to leave his laboratory unsupervised for longer than an hour. This gave him exactly enough time to transport Hugo Jr. and herself to platform 9 ¾, give her a kiss on the cheek, tell Hugo to look after his little sister, and apparate back to work. Abigail's mother was in Bath, celebrating the end of summer holidays with several of her Witches Aid Society friends who had also sent their youngest children off to school at last.

Hugo seemed to consider pointing toward the train and warning "Don't get left behind, Abby" as complete fulfillment of his 'take care of little sister' obligation, and was at the moment running wild with Gordon Hedgpeth and Bartholomew Babcock. Abigail had tried following them for a few minutes, only to understand that that bag in Hugo's pocket was, as she had suspected, NOT chocolate frogs, as he had professed to her father, and that the 4th year Ravenclaws were, in fact, attempting to slip a small incendiary device, unseen, into the second to last compartment. Feeling this could not end well, Abigail had gone back to her trunk.

She was fairly certain her father had meant for Hugo to put it on the train for her, but Abigail thought it rather dangerous to distract him at this point, and decided there was nothing for it but to try and move it herself.

It was rather heavy, she wasn't sure what her mother had packed in it, but the best she could manage was to drag it about a meter at a time towards the train, the whole while cringing at the loud scraping noise of the brand new trunk. Mother wasn't going to like that at all.

She was almost to the baggage compartment when the stampede hit.

It was impossible to understand what was happening in the press of bodies that instantly surrounded her. She was buffeted by trunks being passed up, orders being called out.

"The next one, pass it up Cordelia!"

"Keep your wig on Julius, we're going as fast as we can."

"Where's my trunk?"

"Caesar don't stack it like that they'll fall open!"

"Ow! Plato your tree bit me again!"

'Well YOU shouldn't have made that joke about spider mites."

"Wait! Cassius left the chocolate frogs in his, pull it back out!"

"Does this look infected to you?"

It all took place in less than ten minutes. The swarm of students dissolved into the train, and Abigail was left looking at a completely full baggage compartment.

"Merciful Merlin," she growled, looking up and down the train for the next one, her face dropping as she saw it was several cars away.

"Get caught by the Roman Circus, did you?"

She turned to see a chuckling boy about six feet tall with black hair pushing a trolley and smiling at her.

"You'll have to forgive them, they get so used to it just being themselves all the time, they forget about the rest of us."

Abigail shook her head, "Are they all related?"

"Yes, not immediately, you know, they're all cousins. But you only really ever get them like this at the beginning and end of the year, the Hogwarts hat has sorted them out all over the place, so they're usually much easier to manage."

"Well that is a comfort."

"Indeed. I'm Orion, by the way, Orion Forseti."

"Abigail Vincent, pleasure."

"Vincent...as in Hugo Vincent?"

Abigail nodded. Orion whistled. "Well, you must be stronger than you look. First year, must be if you haven't met a Clark, Logan, or Parker. Here, put that up on the trolley, and we'll find a place for all this further up the train, there's usually heaps of room. Cassie, I'm not moving this by myself, come on!"

At Orion's shout a tall girl with long black hair turned from her conversation with one of the Romans and trotted back.

"Arachne says they passed an empty compartment further up. Hello," she smiled at Abigail.

"Abigail Vincent, my sister Cassiopeia Forseti."

Cassie's eyebrows raised, "Are you related to Hugo Vincent?"

Again, Abigail nodded with trepidation. Cassie giggled, "Oh, don't worry. Hugo is one of my year mates, so I like him just fine. If I weren't in Ravenclaw, however, it might be different. Where is he," she looked around the platform, "Trying to blow up the Slytherins again if his record is worth anything."

Several cars up, sure enough, there was a nearly empty baggage compartment, into which Orion and Cassie loaded the three trunks.

"They'll take care of it for you at Hogwarts, it'll be brought up to your room just as soon as you are sorted."

"Thank you very much."

"Pleasure was all mine, by the way, where did you say your brother was poking about?"

Abigail paused, "End of the train, second car from the end."

"Right," Orion fished in his pockets before pulling out a small, flat, metal object. He blew the lint off of it and fastened it to his shirt. "That means I ought to be in the back half of the train. Prefect, you know, and your brother creates about half of my work. Damn entertaining though, never exactly the same."

A whistle blew, and students on the platform began scattering for the cars.

"Best be getting on then, won't be long now."

Cassie waved and hopped into a compartment a few cars down. Abigail followed Orion into the train, and was immediately confronted by a flushed 17 year old girl with her brown hair pulled back in an elegant twist.

"Hello Belle, have a nice summer? Have you seen Caesar or Declan, we got here a bit late and-"

"Orion, we need to talk to you."

"We-"

"It's rather urgent," Belle smiled nervously at Abigail.

"Right, you'll be fine on your own, won't you Abigail? I seem to have a pressing matter of business to attend to. Nothing to it, of course, you just stay on the train and get off when everyone else does. Excuse me."

Rather confused, Orion followed Belle into the next car, leaving Abigail standing in the corridor. She made her way quickly down the train, taking a seat in an empty compartment in the third to last car, having decided that, if her brother was going to blow up a car full of Slytherins, it just might be a sight worth seeing.