Four boys passed through the magical barrier at Platform 9 ¾ that day, four boys among hundreds. Each had their own story, their own history. Nothing particularly special about any of them. Nothing that set them apart from the others in any notable way. Not really. Not unless you considered....
“Now Remus, Professor Dumbledore has taken care of everything, dear, you’re not to worry yourself about“”
“I know, Mother,” the eleven year old said, looking around the station platform anxiously. “You’ve already told me.”
She smoothed down the front of his collar, which was starched straight, and squeezed his shoulders. “Are you nervous?”
“No, Mother,” Remus answered patiently, his eyes darting to his father, begging. Please make her stop.
His father gently pulled his mother. “He’s fine. Leave the child alone.”
She exchanged a desperate look with him, but eased. “I know he’s fine,” she said, putting on a brave smile. “He’s always fine, isn’t he? Such a brave little soldier.”
Remus pulled a face. He hated being called her brave little soldier. And he wasn’t brave at all, was he? He was terrified. If he was braver“
“Remus,” his father said, dropping his voice as he hunched down to his son’s height. “We’re very proud of you, do you understand? You’re the first to try to do this and we know that you’ll be able to. Professor Dumbledore knows it as well. You won’t let us down, will you?”
Remus shook his head. Of course not.
“There’s a good chap!” his father exclaimed, clapping him on the back before drawing him into a tight embrace. “If there’s any trouble at all,” he murmured, so that his mother couldn’t hear.
“There won’t be,” Remus said strongly.
His father opened his mouth once more, but a sharp whistle cut through the air.
“That’s the train,” his mother said loudly, pulling him away from his father to give him her own hugs and kisses.
He pulled away from her. “I’m going to miss it,” he said.
“Of course,” she said, releasing him. “You have everything you need, right? Your books, your supplies, your...
medicines?”
He nodded.
“If you need anything at all,” she was saying in a rush, herding him onto the train. “Anything. Don’t hesitate to write home or ask Professor Dumbledore.”
“I won’t,” he said, turning to look at her from on the step.
There was a jerk, and he nearly fell off the train and back onto the platform. He heard his mother let out a little gasp, but he held tightly onto the railing and had himself upright with barely a stumble. Without another look at his parents, he moved from the stairwell and into the train corridor.
Remus J. Lupin was a boy with a monster of a secret inside of him.
“Sirius, you’re to behave, you understand?” his mother said severely, shaking her finger at him, her long black hair waving in the wind.
“Yes, mother,” he drawled, bored by the speech he’d been given for the last two months now.
“Don’t you take that tone with me,” she snapped. “It is your duty to uphold your family name. You are the heir to“”
““the Black name,” Sirius said over her. He knew the entire speech by heart. “The successor to the Ancient and Most Noble House of Black. A shining star in the wizarding world. Blah, blah, blah, blah. I know mother.”
“You will not bring shame down upon this family!”
“Of course I won’t. Only a few moments of hell.”
“Sirius“”
“Oh, leave the boy alone,” his father cut in with a smile. “If he wants to break a few rules, what’s wrong with that? Let him be a man; there’s nothing wrong with that. But,” he continued, his face suddenly as severe as his mother’s had been, “if I hear that you’ve been making friends with half-bloods or Mudbloods, I will personally come down to school to bring you home. Do you understand?”
Sirius nodded as his mother pulled on his father’s sleeve, pulling his attention back to herself.
“There’s nothing to worry about,” she said. “They don’t let that sort into Slytherin and that is what our boy’s going to be. Isn’t that right?” she said, looking back down at him.
“The Sorting Hat is going to put me wherever it wants to,” he said logically.
“And it’s going to put you in Slytherin. The moment you place it on your head, it will know who you are; know your lineage. There’s no reason for you to end up anywhere else. And you must set a good example for Regalus. He looks up to you, Sirius, you’re a tremendous influence on him.”
Sirius rolled his eyes. As if he cared.
“And we’ve told Bella to“”
“What?” Sirius yelped.
“We’ve asked Bella to look out for you,” his mother went on, glaring at him. “She’s older than you, and in Slytherin, so she’ll be able to help you“”
Sirius snorted. “I don’t need her help. I can figure things out on my own!”
“There’s a man,” his father exclaimed, clapping him on the back. “Now“”
A loud blast cut through the air.
“Ah. There’s the train, then. On you go, Sirius. Just remember what I’ve said!” his father said, severe again. “We’re better than that filth and I don’t want you associating with it!”
Sirius did not answer his father. To be honest, he couldn’t be bothered to. As far as he was concerned, the only good thing about finally going off to school was getting away from his family, from his over-bearing father, his high-strung and his clingy younger brother.
He opened the door to the first empty compartment and settled himself in his seat, closing his eyes. It was a few hours ride to Hogwarts and he needed the sleep. He hardly noticed when the other boy entered and he was fast asleep within seconds.
Sirius Black was a boy with the heart of a lion inside of him.
Peter waved to his parents from the stairwell until the train rounded a bend and he could not see them anymore and then stopped with a snort of disgust; as if he cared?. His parents were older, and worse than that, had no ambitions for themselves. He knew already that he wasn’t going to be the most talented boy in his year “ not by a long shot “ but he was going to make a name for himself somehow. No matter what the cost. You were nothing if you didn’t have a name.
He gripped the bag he held and started weaving his way through the corridors and the people within them to find a compartment. Within minutes, it was clear that there wasn’t a single empty compartment to be found. He grumbled; he hadn’t wanted to waste the time of discussion on the train. What was the point of making friends on the ride before you knew if you were even going to end up in the same House?
He looked through the compartments carefully, trying to pick out who he should sit next to. Not a single group of people looked promising. He rolled his eyes at this annoyance and then walked into the compartment occupied only by a single boy who looked to be about his age. His eyes were closed and he didn’t start when Peter opened the door. Fast asleep already by the looks of it. He turned his nose up at the boy whose eyes were covered by his black bangs, and sat down, placing his bag in the overhead compartment.
Finally, he was off to Hogwarts. Finally he was going to start doing something. He had hopes and dreams for the next seven years he would spend at Hogwarts. He was going to be Sorted into Slytherin; he had to be “ they were the only ones with the necessary ambition to get anything done. And he’d heard about the Potions professor; Slughorn, his name was. He’d been holding court in Hogwarts for years, making connections with every promising individual who walked through the castle doors and then putting the young faces with the old ones. He gave graduating students the push and pull in the right direction which was the only way to get anywhere in the wizarding world.
The door opened to reveal another young looking boy with longish brown hair and grey eyes.
“Can I sit here?” he asked with a sorry smile. “There isn’t a seat anywhere else.”
Peter shrugged and the boy walked in, carefully stowing a bag in the overhead compartment as well, before turning back. “I’m Remus Lupin,” he said, sticking his hand out. “First year.”
Peter looked over the boy, and making an instant decision, shrugged. The friendship didn’t look promising, but while he didn’t have to waste time with conversation, there was no reason to alienate people either. “Peter Pettigrew,” he answered, taking the hand and shaking it. “First year, too.”
Remus smiled nervously as he sat down, his eyes falling on the sleeping boy. “Who’s that?” he asked.
Peter shrugged. “No idea. He was sleeping when I came in.”
“Well, he looks like he has the right idea,” Remus said with a laugh. “I wish I sleeping.”
“Long last night at home?” Peter asked conversationally.
A dark look crossed the boy’s face, but it was gone a moment later and Peter was sure he’d imagined it.
“Yeah,” Remus said. “My parents are the nervous type.”
“I know what you mean,” Peter said; at least this was someone who could sympathise with him. “My parents are as well. Nearly didn’t let me get on the train.”
Remus laughed again. “Mother’s clingy?”
Peter nodded his head as he made a face. “Terribly.”
Remus smiled sadly. “It’s horrible, isn’t it?”
Peter nodded again and Remus sighed, nodding his head at the sleeping boy.
“I’m going to nod off too,” he said, leaning against the wall of the compartment. “I’m exhausted.”
Peter nodded and turned to look out his window as Remus closed his eyes, breathing deeply.
Peter Pettigrew was a boy who would cry ‘Wolf’.
Five minutes after getting on the train, James was best friends with the prefects from each House, as well as the Head Boy and Girl, having charmed them with his wit and humor. True, they had called him cute, and James didn’t want them to think he was cute, but it was better than nothing. He was going to make best friends with everyone at Hogwarts. He just knew it; it was the kind of person he was.
Well, maybe not with that pasty, greasy looking boy he had passed before. But everyone else.
His parents had seen him off at the station, waving goodbye after hugs and kisses. It had been a fight, leaving them, because if there was one thing James was not, it was stupid. He knew his parents were older than everyone else’s his age. He was an only child, had come to his parents late in life; they were nearly fifty already. And he could see the greying hairs trying to hide in his father’s beard.
He put the thought from his mind. He was going to Hogwarts; was finally going to be around people his age. He was giddy with excitement. Storming into the nearest compartment with a bang, he only realised that two of its three occupants had been sleeping when they came awake with a start and a yell.
“What the hell?” shouted the boy with black hair, an angry look on his face.
“Sorry,” James said with a sheepish smile. “I didn’t see you sleeping.”
The boy scowled.
“I’m James Potter,” he went on. “Who are you?”
“Peter Pettigrew,” the small mousy boy who had been awake answered.
“Remus Lupin,” said the other boy who had been sleeping, brushing his brown hair from his eyes.
James looked expectantly at the last boy.
“Sirius Black,” he finally said grudgingly.
“Oh I’ve heard about you,” James exclaimed. “You’re a pure-blood, aren’t you?”
Sirius shrugged.
“I am too! So we must be related, somehow, right? What about you two?” he asked.
“Pure blood,” they both said at the same time.
James let out a laugh as he fell into the last empty seat. “So we’re all cousins then!” he said with a laugh.
Remus laughed with him, Peter smiled weakly and Sirius grunted before closing his eyes once more.
James Potter was a boy through whom the snitch would be found.
No, there really wasn’t anything special about these boys. Nothing special about these four eleven year olds, young in life and experience. There never was much at the age of an eleven to separate one from another. At the age of eleven, most children were interchangeable. They can do anything, be anything. The world is open and theirs, filled with limitless opportunities. But put these four boys together, who alone were not much; combine these four destinies...and history was in the making.