The Hogwarts Express

                                    

                                          
James's eyes popped open at 5:00 in the  morning, sharp, on 1 September. He stared up at the ceiling, a feeling  of intense anticipation crawling through his body. It wasn't even light  outside yet, but there was no way that James was going back to sleep  now. He sat up and snatched his glasses off his nightstand, jamming them  onto his face quickly. This was no ordinary day, after all. This was  the first day of term - the first day of Hogwarts. He looked over at his  trunk, all packed and ready to go. Inside were his new books, robes,  quills, parchment, potions ingredients, and all of the other things that  he would need for his studies. On top was a cage containing a spotted  wood owl named Bubo, who looked up with his wide yellow eyes when James  sat up.
                          
"You better be good today, Bubo," James said quietly,  "We'll be on the Hogwarts Express later today." The owl hooted and  shuffled to turn around on his perch, putting her back towards James.  "Rude," James accused.
                          
Getting up from bed, James pulled on some  of his muggle clothes, which he found much more comfortable than robes  usually anyway. He tied his trainers, which he'd had his dad magic to be  Gryffindor maroon and gold, and snuck past Bubo into the hallway,  careful not to awaken the cranky owl again.
                          
Downstairs, he found  his mother, Dora, already awake and in the kitchen. She smiled as he  came in and took a seat at the table. "Good morning popkin," she greeted  him, smiling, "Are you excited?"
                          
James nodded heartily.
                          
Dora  smiled warmly and aimed her wand at the fridge and stove, setting bacon  and eggs to sizzle in a griddle. She settled herself in the chair  opposite James and stared at him with sad eyes. "I can't believe you're  eleven years old already - seems like just yesterday that - that you  were - were brand new... so tiny... in my arms..." Tears were welling up in  her eyes.
                          
"Mum," James voice was a warning tone.
                          
"I can't  help it!" she said tearfully, "All grown up, almost a man already... Soon  you'll be meeting someone, getting married, off into the world -  becoming a big shot at the ministry..."
                          
"I'm going to be a pro  Quidditch player, mum," James said, as though he'd told her this a  hundred times. "And I'm not going to get married - ever."
                          
"Of  course you don't think so right now," Dora said, "You're just a boy, but  give it a couple years and you'll change your tune. A couple years from  now and the girls at Hogwarts will be much more interesting than  Quidditch."
                          
"Nothing is more interesting than Quidditch, mum,"  James argued, shaking his head. "Except maybe this bacon," he countered  as she magicked a plate before him. He grabbed onto a strip and began to  snarf it down as though he'd never eaten in his life.
                          
Dora  smiled even more deeply, watching him eat. She got up and went 'round  the table and ran her hand over his messy hair, planting a kiss square  atop his head. "I'm going to miss you - so - so - so much." She choked  up as she spoke.
                          
James sighed, resignedly. "Oh go on then, mum,  get it all out here at home so that you'll be all done when we're on  Platform 9 ¾, please, so that all the other kids aren't laughing at me  all term for being a mummy's boy."
                          
"They'll be too busy seeing  off their own parents to worry about yours," Dora replied, but she  turned, taking a deep breath and began to busy herself around the  kitchen.
                          
When Charlus, James's father, came down the stairs soon  after, he was levitating the trunk and Bubo, who was squawking all the  way down the stairs to the front hall. "Good morning!" Charlus called as  he walked into the kitchen and sat at the head of the table. "Ready for  Hogwarts?" he asked.
                          
"Yes," James replied, excitedly.
                          
Charlus looked down and spotted James's gold-and-maroon striped trainers and grinned. "Nice trainers."
                          
"Gryffindor all the way," grinned James.
                          
"Now remember, there's four houses," said Dora, putting a plate of bacon and eggs in front of her husband.
                          
James shook his head, "Yeah but I'm going to be going to be Gryffindor."
                          
"We'll be proud no matter what house you're in," Dora reminded him.
                          
"Even if it's Slytherin?" James asked, a smirk playing on his mouth.
                          
Charlus paused, a strip of bacon halfway to his mouth, hovering in the air before him, "Well --" he hesitated.
                          
Dora  poked him in the shoulder with the spatula she'd used to serve his  bacon to him. "Of course even Slytherin!" she said, glaring at her  husband pointedly. "Honestly, Charlus..."
                          
Charlus shrugged, then leaned forward and whispered, "Just do your best to avoid it, anyway." He winked and James laughed.
                          
"I told'ja dad," James said, "I'm going to be Gryffindor. Don't worry."
                          
The  Potters were soon headed to King's Cross Station, Bubo snacking on the  strip of bacon that James had snuck down the hallway to slip into his  cage. The ride to the station was pleasant because Charlus was actually  pretty good at driving the muggle car the Potters owned. When they got  there, Charlus sprinted to get a trolley and they loaded James's luggage  up and made their way into the station. King's Cross was pretty quiet,  not a lot of muggles around, and it was easy to slip through the barrier  onto Platform 9¾ without being spotted. James was stunned by how much  busier the platform was compared to the rest of the station. The  wizarding platform was bustling with activity - students shouting  greetings, owls screeching and hooting, crying mothers, and the hiss of  the engine.
                          
"See," Dora whispered, gesturing at some of the other  students being hugged and cried over by their mothers along the  platform, "Wouldn't be a step out of place with this lot."
                          
"Still," James said warily.
                          
But  he didn't escape her. When they'd found their way to an empty space  along side the train, Dora enveloped James into a hug, squeezing him  tightly, her eyes welling up all over as she clutched him to her,  pleading with him to be a good boy and to enjoy the term. James's eyes  wandered over the crowd over her shoulders as she hugged him, and he met  the stare of a boy down the way whose mother stood before him, saying a  stuff goodbye.
                          
"Mum, get off," James said as the boy watched him. "I gotta go, I wanna get a good seat."
                          
"C'mon Dora," Charlus agreed, pulling her back, "Good luck, son."
                          
"Thanks dad," James said, smiling up at him. "Bye mum."
                          
"Write us loads of owls," she cried tearfully, clutching onto Charlus's arm as she'd done James.
                          
"I will," James promised, then, with a wave, he turned and climbed aboard the Hogwarts Express for the very first time.
                          
Being  on the train was a bit intimidating. There were older students all up  and down the length of the train, in little clusters of friends,  chatting and catching up. James felt as though he might be the only  first year on the train. He wandered slowly along, peering in the  compartments, hopeful that he'd find an empty one, but every compartment  seemed stuffed to full with students already. The only one he could  find was towards the end of the train and it wasn't even empty. It was  just mostly empty.
                          
A girl with bright red hair sat on one of the  benches, her face close to the window, palm pressed to the glass,  staring out across the platform. James hesitated, but there wasn't  really an option, so he pushed opened the compartment door.
                          
"'lo,"  he said, stepping into the compartment slowly, toting Bubo along. He  took a deep breath, "Is um... this seat taken?" he waved at the bench  opposite her.
                          
The girl looked up and shook her head. She had tear  tracks across her cheeks and her bright green eyes sparkled up at him,  wet and beautiful. "No," she said thickly. "It's quite empty. I don't  think anybody wants to sit with the sobbing first year."
                          
James  wondered for a moment if they didn't have a good point about it. He  wasn't certain he wanted to sit with a blubbering girl, either. But  again there wasn't really any options, so he smiled as best he could and  settled in.