Remus watched, transfixed, as a gleaming scarlet train wound its way around a final bend in its tracks to reach the parents and students crowded onto Platform Nine and Three-Quarters. The Hogwarts Express. He'd seen it only once before, in a photo he'd found stashed away in his parents' bedroom—a picture of his young father smiling in front of the train as he prepared for his own first journey to Hogwarts. Until a few short months ago, Remus had thought it would be impossible to follow in his father's footsteps. And yet here he was, about to board the train to the world-renowned Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. The thought alone was nearly enough to make him keel over.
His mother placed a hand on his shoulder; he turned around to find her gaping wide-eyed at the train and all the witches and wizards that surrounded it. Remus's mother was a Muggle—although she'd more or less been living amongst wizards since before Remus was born, the wonders of the wizarding world never failed to take her breath away.
"I can't believe this," she murmured, just loud enough for Remus to hear her over the commotion on the platform. "This whole place, right in the middle of King's Cross station."
Remus's father was right behind them, pushing the cart holding Remus's new leather trunk. "It's exactly how I remember it," he said, making Remus smile.
"You're sure he'll be all right?" his mother asked anxiously. For the first time that morning, Remus's spirit faltered just the slightest, the pain and weariness that always came with the waxing of the moon seeping back into his bones. Remus knew his mother's worry wasn't the same as that of the other mothers here fretting over their soon-to-depart children. She wasn't worried that he'd get homesick or misbehave—she was worried he would wake up after one full moon a murderer.
"Dumbledore assured us his arrangements will work," Remus's father replied firmly. "If there's one man we can trust with our son, it's Albus Dumbledore."
Remus swallowed, glancing up once more at the Hogwarts Express. He didn't want to think about his condition, not today. "I should find a seat," he told his parents. The train wasn't set to leave for another twenty minutes, but he was itching to set foot in it.
"All right," said his father, giving him a soft smile. "Remember everything I've taught you, Remus."
"I will, Dad," Remus promised, giving him one last hug goodbye. His father ran a hand through his honey-brown hair affectionately.
Remus then turned to his mother, who'd bent down to meet him at eye-level. "Hwyl fawr, fy nghariad," she murmured. Goodbye, my love. Her eyes were brimming with tears.
Remus fell into her embrace, burying his face in her hair. "Goodbye, Mum." He squeezed his eyes shut and breathed in her warm, flowery scent one last time.
She broke away first, biting her lip and cupping his cheeks tenderly. "You write us at least once a week, okay? Especially after the moons." Remus nodded, the word moons dropping a rock in his stomach as it always did. His mother sniffed and laid one last kiss on his brow. "We love you so, so much, Re. Have a wonderful year."
Remus's parents helped him haul his trunk up onto the train; he said one final goodbye to the two of them, then dragged his things into the nearest empty compartment and took a seat by the window, smiling as his parents blew him kisses from outside.
A couple of minutes before the train's eleven o'clock departure, Remus's compartment door slid open, and a short, plump boy with mousy hair stepped inside. "Ex—excuse me," he stuttered. "Can I sit here?"
"Oh, of course!" Remus stood up quickly to help him pull his trunk inside. The boy took a seat opposite him, his watery eyes trained on a sobbing couple outside the window that Remus assumed must be his parents. The boy pressed his palm against the glass, his lower lip trembling.
Finally, with a deep blow of its whistle, the train began to crawl away from the station. Remus pressed his cheek to the window and watched his parents as they shrunk out of sight, shrouded by the thick white smoke of the steam engine. They'd always kept him on such a tight leash due to his condition; this would be his first time away from them for longer than a few hours. The thought made him nervous, but also excited. After years and years of dreaming, Remus was getting the chance to live like a normal wizard boy, even if all of it was a lie.
He turned to the boy sitting across from him, now biting his nails nervously. Remus had had very little interaction with boys his age, other than a few supervised visits with his Muggle cousins. Though he wanted one badly, he'd never had a real friend before; he'd never been allowed to. His parents had always been afraid that he'd slip up and spill his secret—but by now he was old enough to understand he could never do so. If the frightened boy facing him had any idea he was sharing a compartment with a werewolf, Remus couldn't imagine how he'd react. He'd probably faint, or run away screaming.
"Hello," Remus said, giving the boy a smile. "I'm Remus Lupin, a first year. Who are you?"
The boy blinked, surprised that Remus had addressed him. "P—Peter," he said quietly. "Peter Pettigrew. A first year, too."
"Good to meet you, Peter Pettigrew." Remus held out a hand to shake—was that something that eleven-year-old boys did when they met each other, or just adults? Peter grasped it hesitantly, his own grip weak and shaky.
"I'm nervous, too," Remus admitted. "For Hogwarts. I haven't spent much time away from home before."
"Me neither," said Peter. He seemed to have relaxed just the slightest now that Remus had confessed his fear. "I hope they don't kick me out."
Me too. "Why would they kick you out?" Remus wondered.
"Well, I…I don't think I'm very good at magic. I didn't show any signs of it until last year. My parents were worried I was a Squib."
"You'll be fine," Remus assured him. "Anyone who got the letter belongs at Hogwarts." Even Remus, Dumbledore had said. If a werewolf had a place at Hogwarts, surely Peter did, too.
Peter swallowed, nodding. "I guess you're right." He locked gazes with Remus. "What House do you want?" he asked him tentatively.
"Any House," Remus said. "My father was a Ravenclaw, so that would be cool, I think."
"What about your mum?"
"Oh." Remus blinked. "Well, my mum's a Muggle, actually."
"Really?" Peter raised his eyebrows. When Remus nodded, he cleared his throat. "Oh, well, my parents are both Muggle-borns. They were Hufflepuffs when they were in school. I guess that's what I'll be, too." He smiled shakily at Remus. "You look like you could be a Ravenclaw," he said. "You seem very smart."
Remus laughed. "I don't know how smart I am, but I've been reading our books for the year as much as I can." He was determined to be the best student he could be at Hogwarts and prove to Dumbledore that he'd made the right choice in allowing him to come. Remus knew that all his professors had already been told about him being a werewolf; hopefully he'd show them that he could be a good wizard, too.
"Would you boys like anything from the trolley?" a smiling woman pushing a cart full of sweets asked him and Peter, sticking her head through the compartment door. Remus jumped up and eagerly grabbed his little allowance bag of Galleons and Sickles. As much as his mother tried to discourage it, Remus had always had a bit of a sweet tooth.
He bought a handful of Pumpkin Pasties and a couple of Cauldron Cakes, while Peter bought a bunch of Chocolate Frogs. They quickly agreed to share.
"Oh, wow," Peter said, examining his first Chocolate Frog card. "It's Dumbledore. Kind of funny since we're heading to his school, right?"
"Yeah." Remus took the card from him, examining Dumbledore's beaming face. He still couldn't believe what Dumbledore had done for him, letting a werewolf boy come to Hogwarts.
I won't let you down, he told the face on the card. I promise.
