David Bowie, 'Kooks'. Read the lyrics.

Chapter 42

"Harry, time to wake up!"

Harry heard his mother calling and tried to respond, but felt like his tongue was glued to the roof of his mouth. He attempted to open his eyes. Also glued.

"Harry! You don't want to be late on your first day! The train won't wait!" shouted Lily from the foot of the stairs leading up to his room.

He heaved himself up and stumbled to the door. "I'mmawake," he grumbled down at her, voice hoarse and low.

"You're all packed, right?"

"Yesssmum."

"Dad will be up to help you with your trunk in a bit."

Harry nodded drowsily and shuffled to the bathroom. He'd been so excited the night before that it had taken hours to fall asleep, and now he was paying for it. A cool shower dispelled his grogginess. He dressed, looking around at every mundane object with special interest, since he wouldn't be home for a while. He caught his own reflection in the mirror and was startled by the intensity of his expression. Don't glower, don't frown...you want people to be your friend, don't you?

He tried out a smile. It appeared manic, desperate. He tried a neutral look. Even that looked weird, like he'd woken up with a stranger's face and didn't know how to control it. At least his hair was smooth and unobjectionable. A muggle might think the cut was a little long, but it was average by wizarding standards.

There came a sudden shriek from a covered cage on his desk. Harry lifted the edge of the cloth and checked on his pet, a mottled brown European Eagle-Owl with bright orange eyes. "You're scary. I hope you get along with the other owls."

He heard footsteps ascending the stairs. A moment later, there was a very soft knock on the door frame, followed by a resonant voice that called "Harry?"

"Come in."

Severus Snape stepped over the threshold and took in his son's tense look. "Everything okay?"

"What if nobody likes me?"

After a long moment of silence, Severus said, "It'll be okay."

"Yeah, it probably will. I'm just nervous."

Harry sat down on his bed. His father sat down next to him and said, "There will be all sorts of kids on the train, from the purebloods who will walk into Hogwarts like they own the place, to the Muggleborns who must be absolutely terrified right now, not knowing what to expect. And everyone in between. But it's the same beginning for all of you. I know you'll find your way."

"Even though you and mum will be there at Hogwarts, it'll be different, won't it?"

"A little different, I imagine."

Harry saw that his father's long white fingers were pulling nervously at his shirt cuffs. Seeing how worried his father was lightened Harry's own concerns, somehow. "You're right. I'll have to call you both Professor."

Severus laughed. "Yes, you'd better. You've never seen her at school…she becomes extra fierce, Harry. Don't expect any special treatment. She won't hesitate to give you detentions if you cross her."

"When we're at school…you, me, and Mum can still have dinner together privately, right?"

"You'll want to be with your friends, not a couple of kooks."

"You kooks are some of my best friends."

Severus turned and hugged Harry tightly. He took a few deep breaths, then reluctantly released his only child. He stood and turned away, hastily wiping his eyes. He cast a shrinking spell on the large trunk and tucked it in his pocket. "C'mon downstairs, breakfast is getting cold."

Harry paused on the landing to look at a framed photograph. He'd seen it thousands of times, eyed it in passing, but for some reason he now felt the need to stop and examine it closely. It showed his mother and father at seventeen, just after graduation, standing near the Herbology greenhouse, each wearing a dainty crown of flowers. "This picture," said Harry.

Severus stopped and looked at it, too. He rolled his eyes. "I know, I know. It was the seventies."

"Who took it?"

"Uncle Remus."

A feeling of inexplicable sweetness came over Harry, causing his eyes to brim with tears.

Platform 9 3/4 was crowded with families.

"Bye, Neville!" called the Longbottoms.

Lucius Malfoy gave a terse nod to his son.

An obviously muggle couple looked around in wonder as their bushy-haired daughter pushed her cart towards the train.

Harry noticed a man glaring at them. His hands were resting on the shoulders of a boy wearing glasses and a glare that matched his dad's. "Who's that?" Harry asked.

His father turned to look, face falling. "James Potter and his son Charlie," he said, a slight edge creeping into his voice.

"Why are they looking at us like that?"

"Mr Potter and I have…a history."

Lily took her husband's hand. "Ancient history," she said gently.

Severus blinked and his expression softened somewhat. He kissed his wife's hand and said, "You're right…best not to dwell on the past. But don't think that I'll ever forget for a second that I'm the lucky one."

Lily noticed her son's confused look, and explained, "Mr Potter was a bully as a child, and unfortunately he never grew out of it."

"That doesn't mean his son is the same. See what he'd really like before you form an opinion," said Severus.

Lily was surprised by this generous statement, but when she thought about it it made perfect sense. Severus's father had been abusive, and he hadn't turned out that way. Moreover, he'd suffered terribly as a result of a senseless childhood feud that his own animosity had helped perpetuate. There was no need for that enmity to be passed down to the next generation.

Harry took another look at the Potters. Charlie's mother, an extremely attractive witch with long blonde hair, said something to James, who shook himself as if from a reverie, to gaze upon her with a dreamy expression. Harry glanced at Charlie, who offered him a small, hesitant smile that was gladly returned. The train whistle blew. "We'll see you in the Great Hall tonight," said Lily.

"Until later, Professors," said their son, bowing dramatically before darting onto the Hogwarts Express.

He settled into an empty compartment, curious to see who would join him. Moments later, a ginger man stepped in, closed the door behind him, and sat down across from Harry. "Are you happy?" asked the stranger, looking quite happy himself.

Harry was confused, but he didn't want to be impolite, so he replied, "Um…yes, I guess so."

"I'm still not sure about this sorting hat thing."

"Everyone gets sorted."

"Who says? What if you don't want to be? Do you get expelled?"

"I…I dunno."

"My friend was the longest hatstall in Hogwarts history. Dunno if he made it in the book, but it's true. It took hours to sort him, and when it was finally about to tell him, he took it off 'cause he decided it didn't matter."

"I didn't know it was okay to do that."

"Lots of things are okay to do, that nobody tells you about."

"Okay. My parents would tell me, though. They stopped wearing their House colour ties at the end of fifth year. Lots of students followed their lead, and that's why we have the option of wearing a black tie with four stripes representing all the Houses. We still get sorted, though..."

Harry trailed off, brows knit in thought. After a moment, he remembered himself and the stranger, and said, "Sorry, I didn't get your name?"

"Michael Tardis. I'm a friend of Professor Riddle-Figg-Dumbledore."

"Oh, the Defense professor? My dad co-teaches it with him. I'm Harry Snape, by the way."

"Severus Snape's your dad? Mediwizard at St. Mungo's, Potions master at Hogwarts, winner of the Albus Dumbledore Award for the Advancement of Universal Studies, I believe, for inventing concentrated Wolfsbane potion?"

"Yes, and he's also the dueling instructor. Professor R.F.D. covers the theory, history, and psychology of D.A.D.A., he explains all about the spells and why they work, and then dad shows us how to defend against them in practice. Professor R.F.D. offers a sub-course in Legilimency, and dad offers one in Occlumency. My mum is Lily Evans. She teaches Chemistry, Genetics, and Charms. She also won a Dumbledore award for creating a charm that destroys cancer cells."

"You must be very proud of your parents."

"I am. Are you a professor, sir?"

"Nah, I'm a Healer on call just for the train ride. Students love to jinx and hex each other, you know. Speaking of which, I'd better start my rounds. If I don't see you again…have a great time. Oh, I just love beginnings!"

The man rose and opened the compartment door. Harry said, "Goodbye, um…Mr Tardis."

"Goodbye, Harry." M took one last look, left the car, and after that, the universe.

Harry sat quietly and reviewed the conversation, filing some of the odder bits away for future examination, though he did write down the name Michael Tardiss in one of his new school notebooks. Within minutes, he was joined by another young man with ginger hair, except this one was only eleven years old, very nervous and had a smudge on his nose. "I'm Ron. Ron Weasley. All my family are Gryffindors. What if I'm not? What'll I do then?"

"My dad's a Slytherin, my mum's a Gryffindor. I don't think it really matters. I'd rather not be sorted at all."

"What? Not get sorted? You have to get sorted."

"Who says?" replied Harry, smiling.