Grumbling, Dad took the camera and snapped a few quick pictures of Mum and me standing in front of the train. Then they switched places and I took one with Dad. “I’m sure we can charm the camera to take one of all of us,” Mum declared and posed on the other side of me so she and Dad were flanking me. After a few attempts at this, however, the camera still wasn’t cooperating, and Dad was getting quite impatient.
Determined to get the picture, Mum asked random witches and wizards to take a picture of us. There were so many here! Finally, one couple with a fat boy my age agreed. After the photo shoot, Mum thanked them. “This must be your son,” she said happily, looking down at the chubby youth.
“Yes, this is Peter, Peter Pettigrew,” the mother introduced. “He’s a first year.”
“Same is my son, Remus!” Mum exclaimed, patting me on the back as Dad stowed the camera away into his pouch. “Why don’t you two find a seat on the train?” she suggested.
Agreeing, I took my luggage after hugging Mum and receiving a gruff pat from Dad and hurried onto the Hogwarts Express with Peter tottering behind me.
As we entered, I had to stop myself from gaping in interest at all the students milling about in their uniforms. Everything was so wonderfully foreign to me. I wondered when I should change into my robes; I was excited about it, because then I would feel official.
Puffs of steam were already emitting from the train and I felt an alarming jolt as the train started moving, almost making me topple over. “We’d better find a compartment fast,” I fretted, more to myself than to Peter, but he nodded in agreement.
It took a while make our way down the tight corridor, because the older students were far more impatient and seemed to think they had authority over the littler ones. In the hubbub, I was bumped by a boy with greasy black hair beside a very pretty girl with auburn hair. Most of the compartments were full, and those that weren’t housed students who looked (frankly) scary, so we were forced to move on.
Finally, we arrived at a compartment with only two boys who looked our age. I slid open the door. “Mind if two more people join you?” I asked in the most confident voice I could muster.
“Come on in,” one of the boys said, who had black messy hair and spectacles. “Two of our compartment-mates ran out on us just now, so I guess you can take their place.” He grinned and shuffled over.
I was shaking with nervous excitement at being accepted so easily as I pushed my luggage into the storage compartment above our heads.
“I’m James Potter,” the boy with spectacles said. “And this is Sirius Black.” He motioned to the boy across from him, who also sported black hair, but had striking grey eyes.
“My name is Remus Lupin,” I introduced myself and sat down beside James.
Peter plopped down beside Sirius and gaped slightly at him.
“Er…” Sirius looked flustered and gave James a questioning look. “Hi.”
“That’s Peter,” I said. It was curious how comfortable I already felt with these people. I fell silent for a while as James talked about his hopes of getting into Gryffindor and the feast that awaited us. Soon I lapsed into my own train of thought.
So this was it. We were off. My jitters were uncontrollable. I’d already made friends, but what of the classes? I had been home schooled for my whole life, so I’d never experienced a classroom setting. Mum said I’d do great. I wasn’t so sure.
“Lupin, Remus!” the Professor in emerald green robes called out clearly.
Wobbling towards the stool, I told myself to breathe normally and sat down. The hat was placed upon my head and I was engulfed in black.
I see you have a ready mind”you wouldn’t do bad in Ravenclaw, the hat said. But I sense something else too: I see readiness to stand up for yourself and for friends, and boldness to do what is right, even if times prove dangerous. “GRYFFINDOR!”
Wasn’t that the house James was hoping to be in? Grinning, I took the hat off and walked to the table that was cheering for me. I received slaps on the back, handshakes, and whoops. I never felt so appreciated; it was like starting a whole new life here at Hogwarts. Glowing with pleasure, I spotted Sirius and sat down beside him.
“Good job, mate!” he congratulated, grinning.
“You too,” I managed.
He smirked. “Thanks. I’m the first one in my family to be in Gryffindor. The rest are in Slytherin.” He nodded at the table garbed in green. “But don’t get me wrong, I’m glad I’m here.”
The sorting passed by in a haze; Peter and James both were sorted into Gryffindor, to everyone’s delight. I took the time to study the professors at the table. Some looked kind, others haughty, and a few looked just bland. Professor Dumbledore sat in the middle with his half-moon spectacles, looking serene as ever.
As soon as his speech was finished, the food appeared. James was right; there was a lot of food! My stomach growled with the sweet smells of everything. The food was scrumptious, thankfully. I didn’t miss home at all; I was in a place where I had friends, food, and could learn magic; what else could I want?
The Headmaster dismissed the houses and we followed the Gryffindor prefects to the Gryffindor common room. On the way, I saw the moving portraits”never had I seen so many! The best of all were the moving staircases, which looked like a thrill to ride on. It was to my horror (and delight at the same time) that the prefects announced we’d be riding on those staircases.
We gingerly walked up a few stairs and the whole staircase began to swing in the opposite direction. Grasping onto the railing, I made myself take in the spectacular view from there instead of panicking.
“I dare you to drop an ink bottle on that student’s head,” Sirius whispered to James, who laughed heartily, but didn’t follow through with the action.
When we walked off the staircase, I was thoroughly shaking with excitement (I was shaking physically as well from my nerves about going on the staircase).
Our common room looked welcoming with its dilapidated armchairs by the roaring fire. The colors of gold and red ran around the walls, dusty with old age but young with its fervency. It felt like home already.
The prefects directed the way to the boys’ dormitories and I joined James, Sirius, and Peter to the first year dormitory.
“What a nice dorm!” Sirius exclaimed when we opened the door. “I claim this bed!” he walked to the middle four-poster and set his trunk at its base.
Marveling at the warmth of the room (my cottage was this warm seldom times), I walked to the four-poster nearest me and opened my trunk to get my belongings out. Everything was brand new; I longed to open the books and try some spells, but I would use them soon enough.
James was already hanging posters upon the walls surrounding his bed. “I support the Montrose Magpies,” he announced as he tacked up an exceptionally large poster at the head of his bed. “I’m trying out for the Gryffindor Quidditch team next year.”
I didn’t know there were in-house Quidditch games, but now apparently there were. Finally I’d be able to watch my first Quidditch match! This was too good to be true.
I fell asleep instantly and had very sweet dreams that night.
“Wake up! We don’t want to miss breakfast!” James’ loud voice jolted me awake the next morning.
Sirius groaned from beneath his blankets. “The sun hasn’t even risen yet, you git…” He rolled over and fell asleep once more.
Rolling his eyes, James pulled the covers off Sirius. “It is already seven thirty, idiot.” He smacked him playfully in the side of the head, causing another groan from Sirius, who hit him back.
My stomach was growling by the time we’d descended the moving staircases. I still couldn’t believe that they actually moved! I was sure I would get lost on them one of these days.
Breakfast was just as delicious as the opening feast was last night. We walked from the Great Hall to our classes probably a bit heavier from all the food.
“Transfiguration is first,” James announced as he read our schedule. “It’s with the Slytherins,” he added with an audible groan.
“What’s so bad about Slytherin?” I asked, not having been brought up with many Hogwarts stories.
James gawked at me as if I were a Muggle. “It’s the worst house, that’s what. There’ve been the most dark wizards coming from that house than from any other.” He turned to Sirius. “No offence, mate.”
Sirius waved it off casually and directed us to the Transfiguration classroom, where many students were already seated. I spotted the pretty redheaded girl again, who was in Gryffindor, and the slimy-looking boy, who was in Slytherin, chatting together. How odd.
Transfiguration turned out to be quite enjoyable, though it was difficult. Our professor, Professor McGonagall, was strict and had the air of expecting nothing less than perfection, but I saw in her eyes a kindness towards her students. I was in awe of her transfiguration skills and started dreaming of the day that I would learn how to do that as well! She even transformed herself into a cat, which was astonishing and made me yelp.
Professor Flitwick taught Charms. When we first caught sight of him, we started laughing at his tiny stature and squeaky voice, but he as well was a good teacher. I had trouble making my feather fly (somehow I don’t think I was saying the spell quite right) but James and Sirius helped me, as they appeared to be naturals.
“Oh no, Potions is next,” Sirius groaned.
James eyed him. “What’s so bad about Potions?” He stuffed his schedule away into his bag.
“It’s just the favorite class of the Slytherins,” Sirius explained, glaring at a blonde-haired Slytherin prefect strutting down the hall.
With dread in our hearts, we made our way to the dungeons, where Potions class was taught. A jolly man with blonde hair and the beginnings of a potbelly greeted us. “Welcome to Potions! Step right in, step right in…”
Somehow, I didn’t think Potions would be that bad, after all.
All students congregated in the Great Hall for the midday meal. Exhausted but happy, I dug into the food. The first day of school at Hogwarts had been interesting indeed, and my mind was brimming with ideas and thoughts for projects the professors had assigned.
I lifted my eyes to the large windows at the front of the Hall and almost choked when I saw”could it be”the Whomping Willow? Goggling at the immense sight of it, I saw it fling away a bird that tried to nest in its branches. Cold dread filled me, reminding me of the end of the month. But the Whomping Willow was a sign to me, a symbol of what this school had done for me so I could be a student here, and for that, I was eternally grateful.