Had anyone asked Anakin Skywalker whether he was nervous about travelling to Hogwarts and leaving his mother, step-father and step-siblings behind, he would have adamantly denounced his fears. To anyone with even half a brain, it would have been blatantly obvious that he was lying.
His mother had booked the day off work so she could be with him before he left. It was a rare occurrence, especially considering that September 1st was during peak times (or so Watto claimed), but his mother had somehow managed it. Anakin had tried to tell her that it wasn't necessary. He knew how to get to Platform 9 and ¾ from when his step-siblings had gone to Hogwarts, and hadn't wanted to disrupt his mother's day. She had been determined to see him off though, and there was very little that could be done to change his mother's mind once she had decided upon something.
"I'm so proud of you Ani." She said, pulling him close to her chest. He clung back to her, burying his face in her shoulder one last time before he left for Hogwarts, trying to stop the dampness in the corners of his eyes from forming into full tears. The scent of his mother's shampoo tickled at his nose as a few stray strands brushed against his face. Honey and chocolate, buried underneath something metallic, likely from her overtime at Watto's. "And I want you to know that I love you so much."
"I love you too mom." He choked out, trying to unclench his fists from where they had grabbed onto her coat. Don't cry, he told himself, swallowing around the lump that had settled at the back of his throat. If you cry, then mom's going to start crying, and then neither of you are going to stop crying until you're halfway to Hogwarts.
They seemed to stay like that for an age, both trying to seek a little bit more comfort from the other, making up for the lost time they already knew would come. It was Anakin who made the first move to let go, a slight relax of his fist, letting the tension slip away from it. His mother took this as a sign that he was finally ready to leave, that he had prepared himself to say goodbye.
"You're going to write me a letter every week." She ordered him, earning a soft, slightly wet laugh from Anakin. She cupped his chin, staring directly into bright blue eyes so full of emotion. "If you don't, then I swear I will contact every member of staff there just to let me know you're ok. God knows it's the only reason we got you an owl in the first place."
"You don't need to remind me mom. I promise I'll write as often as I can."
"You better." There was a sadness to her smile, one that Anakin had only seen after he had first gotten his letter to Hogwarts. It spoke of a loss. The loss of the last small grip of normalcy they had held in their life. And behind that was wistfulness, that perhaps she could have helped more. Pulling away from him, she tried to neutralise her smile. "Now get going. Make some friends. Have fun." She pushed him away playfully, and Anakin had to stop himself from running straight back to her.
Grabbing the handle of his trunk with one hand, and lifting the cage in which his owl (a barn owl with white feathers he had dubbed R2-D2) he began to make his way to the nearest door, throwing the occasional glance back to where his mother stood, hands placed over her heart. It was slow work, what with the suitcase likely weighing more than he did, but he refused to ask for help. As he pushed himself up onto the train, he risked a final look back, quick so as not to block the students trying to make their way on-board. He caught her mouthing what looked like 'I love you,' standing on the tips of her toes so as to be seen over the sea of people. He mouthed the words back at her, but knew they had likely gone unseen, as no sooner had he begun, was she swallowed up into the crowd.
At that moment it truly hit him that he was alone, without family or friends, for the first time in living memory. Trying not to panic and draw attention to himself, he made his way through the narrow passages of the train, looking into the compartments for a spare seat. Most seemed completely packed, and those that weren't were filled with older students who looked like they would rather not be bothered by a first year. Anakin was fairly certain he almost walked in on two sixth years 'celebrating' their return to Hogwarts after the summer break, and most definitely walked past a fourth year leaning out the window with a cigarette in his mouth.
Finally, after a great struggle, he managed to find a compartment completely empty of all students. It was situated right in the centre of the train carriage, and had a distinct scent of mildew and mould (likely the reason it had remained empty until Anakin had come along). Maybe, if he'd been slightly pickier, he would have passed and just settled in with a group of students. It would have made it a slight bit easier to make friends, but Anakin wasn't great at making things easy for himself.
So he shoved his suitcase on the luggage rack above his head, settled R2-D2 on the bench beside him, and stared out the window, wondering about what exactly Hogwarts would be like. Would it truly fit into the image his mother had painted of it from her second hand stories? She was a squib, and thus had never gotten to go, but her parents were both wizards, and thus she had grown up on stories about the ghosts that lurked around Hogwarts, and the mythical beings that lingered in the woods. Surely, he thought to himself, there couldn't be a clan of centaurs hiding away in the forbidden forest? How would they have remained hidden for so long?
Hogwarts seemed perfect, and perhaps that was why Anakin was so hesitant to believe what his mother had told him. In his experience, surface level perfection always came with a price. He would just have to bide his time, and see what had been paid.