A/N: Thanks to the Queens for getting me started on this story, and also for making me keep going (eventually).
Chapter One
"In all likelihood, you'll make millions of friends, learn lots of interesting things and have a wonderful time," said Justin's father.
His hand rested heavily on Justin's shoulder, encompassing it entirely. Justin's father was a tall, thickset man and oftentimes seemed like a giant to him. Father had played rugby in his youth, and had been left with a faint scar by his left ear and an underestimation of his own strength. Thus, when he squeezed Justin's shoulder in an apparently comforting way, Justin had to work not to wince.
"However," Father continued in his commanding voice, "If you find this school to be anything less than satisfactory, you get in touch and we'll just send you off to Eton."
Although Justin had spent the better part of the last month or so getting angry every time Father made some insinuation that Hogwarts would be less than adequate, he managed to stay calm. It wasn't worth the bother of working himself up. He was going to Hogwarts, it was certain, and Father's words were only affectionate.
"Thank you, Father," Justin replied politely, "I'll write you the moment I arrive, at any rate. I'm sure you'll want to know what it's like."
"Want to know what it's like?" said Father loudly, lifting his hand from Justin's shoulder in an exaggerated gesture, "A school for wizards? I'll want to know every detail, boy! I expect your letter to be ten pages long and I'll be disappointed with anything shorter."
"Nigel, love," said Justin's mother, sweeping into the room, "Do calm yourself down. You're being entirely too loud for this time in the morning."
"Good morning, Mother," smiled Justin, moving to the table and sitting down.
"Good morning to you too, Justin," said Mother, giving him a knowing look, "Make sure you eat plenty, I'm not at all sure when you'll next get a chance to eat."
Justin looked along the table. There were all the normal breakfast foods- the hot bacon and eggs with his favourite cooked tomatoes; the toast with butter from the dairy and jam made down in the village; the array of cereals and, of course, fresh fruit. Justin piled his plate with bacon, tomatoes and toast and began to fill his stomach. His mother sat down and unfolded a newspaper, settling in for her morning read. Father left the room, presumably to finish dressing.
Justin ate his breakfast in silence, his cutlery clattering against the china plate. As he cleared it, he became aware of the particular dish he was eating off of. It was old, with several cracks in the varnish. It was a pale blue colour, with 'Justin' painted on it and a bright blue steam engine making its way across. He looked up, surprised, at his mother.
"Why do I have my old dish?"
Mother looked over her newspaper and smiled. "Thought you might like the luck it used to bring you. Remember how your best days always started with your train plate?"
Justin grinned at her. "Do I? The day I won the village treasure hunt, I ate off this plate!"
"Well, you might need the luck today," laughed Mother, "Just to help you with all the new things."
"New things?" said Father, marching back into the room, "You're not getting more new things, are you Eleanor?"
"I expect I may pick up a few things while I'm in London," replied Mother, smiling, "But I was actually referring to the number of new experiences Justin is going to have today."
"That's right," nodded Justin, "And to help me get through them, Mother had me eat off my old lucky plate."
"The blue train plate?" frowned Father, "I thought you got rid of that years ago! Along with that awful novelty straw you drank through, and Elizabeth's wretched horsey place-settings."
"What was wrong with them, Nigel?" asked Mother, all smiles and laughter.
"They were just so childish, that's what was wrong with them!"
Justin laughed. "Well, we are children, father, even if I'm not to be here everyday."
"Oh yes, Justin's a grown-up now," came a voice from the doorway.
Justin twisted in his seat to see his sister, Elizabeth, standing in the door regarding him with a look of distaste. Her hair was bedraggled, hanging messily around her tired face. Like their father, Elizabeth was not a morning person. She was extraordinarily grumpy before she was fed and dressed. Add to this the fact that she was not in the least bit happy with Justin, and he found himself looking at a surprisingly angry eight-year-old.
"Now, Elizabeth," said Mother sternly, "Don't be so sarcastic and come and eat some breakfast." Elizabeth came forward, sat down and slouched over her plate. "Sit up," ordered Mother, "Justin and I shall be leaving soon and if you have not changed your mind about coming, you will need to be in the courtyard to say your farewell."
Justin watched Elizabeth out of the corner of his eye as she began to eat her customary breakfast of corn flakes. He couldn't help but think that, if he were to ignore the strong waves of anger radiating from Elizabeth, the breakfast table was perfectly normal. There was mother, reading her newspaper and absently eating a banana. Father sat at the head of the table, chewing away at his bacon and reading some sort of bill or letter that had arrived in the post. Elizabeth was eating cereal grouchily and Justin, finishing first and looking around cheerfully while he waited for the others.
"May I be excused?" asked Elizabeth eventually.
Mother glanced up, "Of course, dear. Go and get dressed, please. Be in the courtyard in half an hour."
"May I get down too?" asked Justin.
Mother nodded in his direction, and Justin followed Elizabeth from the room. They walked in silence up the large staircase and left along the corridor to their bedrooms. A few paces before her room, Elizabeth turned to him.
"I'm glad you're going," she said bluntly, "It means I can have Mother and Father to myself, and you can't go and be their favourite anymore."
"Elizabeth, that's not fair," said Justin calmly, "It's not kind, either."
"I don't care about being kind. As long as you're gone, I can do whatever I want and I'm going to have loads of fun without you. I don't need you."
She span around and stormed into her room, slamming the door behind her. Justin sighed. It was hard not to be offended when someone so dear to him said cruel things, but deep inside he felt that Elizabeth was just upset that he was leaving.
"Cheerio, son," said Justin's father, pulling him into a brief but strong one-armed embrace. "Have a good journey and a good term."
"Thank you father," smiled Justin, stepping backwards. "Have a good day at work."
"No doubt I will," came the chuckled response, "Adding to one's great fortune by doing something one loves is always something to be enjoyed."
"Always obsessed with money, you were," joked Justin's mother and she exited the house and stepped lightly down the front steps.
Justin and his father laughed. "I'd like to deny it, but I'm afraid I don't have much evidence to the contrary," smiled the elder Finch-Fletchley, "Have a good drive and I'll see you tonight, dear."
"Yes, goodbye Nigel," said Justin's mother. She kissed him on the cheek and laughed when he winked at Justin.
Justin's father moved over to and got into his car, a black chauffeur-driven Rolls Royce. He waved out the back window as the car pulled away and out of the front courtyard. Justin watched as the car turned the corner and out of sight. It was beginning to sink in that he wouldn't see his father, or the rest of his family, for a long time. He turned to face his mother, who was standing close by with a sympathetic smile on her face.
"Shall we be off?" she asked, gesturing towards a second car.
Justin nodded. "Where's Elizabeth?"
"I'm right here," came a sulky voice from the top of the steps. Justin looked up to see Elizabeth, dressed prettily but looking just as grumpy, standing beside the door.
"Goodbye Elizabeth," he called, "Have a good time at school this term."
"I hope you have a horrible time," said Elizabeth, before sticking out her tongue and running back inside quickly.
Justin heard his mother sigh. "Don't worry about her," she said kindly, "She's just upset that you're leaving her here."
"I know," he nodded, "Shall we go?"
Justin and his mother sat in the back of their chauffeured car on the long journey to London. They spoke little, Justin quieted by nerves and his mother by distraction- she was busy reading a novel. As the countryside flew by and was replaced by the sprawling mass of London, Justin felt his nerves growing as the miles between King's Cross and himself became fewer. The chauffeur, James, notified them five minutes before they arrived at King's Cross, and Justin attempted to calm himself. He steeled his nerves as he pulled his jumper on and smoothed down his hair. There was no point in making bad first impressions, and a messy appearance could do just that.
They pulled up to the curb, James quickly letting out Justin's mother and retrieving his trunk from the car boot. Justin found himself a trolley and James deposited the trunk on top of it. Justin, standing now behind the trolley, felt nervous all over again and his carefully prepared brave front began to crumble.
"Now, lad," said James, placing a firm hand on his shoulder, "Be good, and I'll be seeing you at Christmas."
Justin nodded up at the friendly face. "Bye, James. Thank you for the ride down."
James grinned down at him. "With your manners, there's no doubt you'll be the most popular boy there," he said kindly, "I'll be around in ten minutes, ma'am."
Justin's mother nodded at James, who climbed back into the car with a cheery wave at Justin and driving off into the traffic. Justin watched the car drive around the corner before turning to face his mother. He set his shoulders and stood up straight, earning himself a proud smile from his mother.
"Are you ready, dear?"
Justin nodded and turned the trolley towards the station. He remembered the instructions he'd been given about getting onto the platform- run at the barrier between 9 and 10. It still seemed slightly ridiculous, even after all the wonders he'd seen at Diagon Alley. He pushed his trolley onwards, feeling the nerves crashing into each other and exploding with every step. He kept his face calm, flicking a smile up to his mother occasionally to show her that he was alright.
Finally they came to platforms 9 and 10. Justin pulled to a halt and turned to his mother.
"Well," he said, "This is it."
He had never been so scared in his entire life- not the time Elizabeth had been dangling over the balcony railing and slipped, not the time he and his father had gone on safari and seen a real lion from only a few feet away, not even the time his nanny's hair had caught on fire spontaneously. (He knew now, of course, that it had been accidental magic which had caused this fire- the nanny had been trying to feed Justin fish, a terrible mistake.)
"Take care of yourself, Justin," said his mother kindly, "You'll be absolutely fine, don't worry."
She reached out to stroke his hair and let out a small sigh. Justin took a deep breath and was about to say goodbye, when she suddenly reached out and pulled him into a tight embrace. Justin leaned into the hug happily, knowing that he wasn't to get another for several months. He breathed in her scent and felt his strength building up again. If Mother believed he was going to be fine, then there was nothing to be worried about, was there?
Justin was released and he rocked back on his heels and smiled at her.
"See you at Christmas," he said cheerfully, eliciting a chuckle from his mother.
"Write as soon as you get there," said his mother, kissing him quickly on the forehead.
"Of course," replied Justin, taking hold of his trolley again. "Goodbye, Mother."
"Goodbye."
She stepped back and Justin wheeled himself around to face the barrier. Just as he was building up his nerve, staring hard at the seemingly solid brick wall, two young girls pushing trunks like his and who appeared to be their mother walked straight through it. Justin blinked. How odd. One minute they had been there, walking calmly and purposefully, the next they had walked through a wall. Justin looked around to see if there were any other people who might be going to Hogwarts.
A good-looking boy several years older walked past at that moment, pushing a trolley with a large trunk bearing the initials C.D. He looked down at Justin, took in the trunk and nervous look and winked.
"It's easy as punch," he said genially, walking brazenly up to the barrier and passing though easily.
Justin felt better instantly. If that boy could walk through so simply, then there was nothing to worry about. He took one last look at his mother, standing off to the side, and began walking to the barrier. It had been only a few feet away, and as it grew closer and closer, Justin felt his pulse quicken. Just when the end of his trolley was going to hit the wall, he braced himself for an impact.
Unfortunately, this left him slightly unbalanced when he passed through. He stumbled a little and stopped abruptly on the other side. There, where the wall had been just moments ago, was an entirely new platform with a bright scarlet train ready for boarding. Justin's mouth dropped open at the sight, but he quickly snapped it shut- it was awfully rude to stare, especially with one's mouth hanging open.
Children of his age and above were milling about the platform, mixing with parents and chatting excitedly to each other. Justin quickly scanned the platform and couldn't see a single person standing by themselves. Most of the children were dressed in normal clothes, but some- and most of the adults- were dressed in robes like the ones he'd had to buy in Diagon Alley. There were children of all ages hanging out of windows of the train to talk to people on the platform. Two boys raced past him, on their way to talk to a group of others in this hive of activity.
He was still standing there, looking around curiously, when a trolley bumped into him from behind.