New Beginnings
Sunday August 28th, 1971 - London, England
The train whistle blared so loudly James swore he could feel the glass in his gold rimmed spectacles vibrate. Those glasses along with his long curly bangs hid his teary eyes as he stared up at his mother and father.
It was a slightly cooler day. The world would soon be transitioning to the crispness of autumn. James however had still managed to be overdressed in preparation for the journey ahead, his thick jumper itching around his wrists and shoulders. His glasses continuously slipped down his nose from sweat as he fought to push them back up. The station was packed with people, stuck against each other like sardines adding to the heat of the atmosphere.
He would be leaving soon for a year and the magic of Hogwarts seemed to fade as the perspective of being without his parents set into reality.
The station smelt strongly of London, meaning dirty. It tinged with something sour though this area beyond the barrier from the muggles was slightly better. Only slightly. James began to miss the salty air of the summer and the open space of the beach he spent time on. Masking the scent of the city slightly was his mother’s perfume reminding him of home with its strong lavender orange mixture. He breathed it in deeply as she pulled him into a fierce hug, his glasses pressed awkwardly between her shoulder and his face but he didn’t care. He pushed himself into her arms trying to touch his hands together behind his back though unable to.
“It’s only until Christmas”, his father reminded him kindly. “You’ll hardly miss us once you are busy with friends and work.”
James seriously doubted that idea, unable to imagine not missing his mum and dad but began to smile despite himself at the prospect of new friendships and the world he would be able to explore at the other end of the upcoming train ride.
Though he had never been there he could begin to picture life at Hogwarts from his parents' old stories. The expansive castle would be filled with magic and mischief around every corner. A million things to learn and adventures to take on.
His mother snapped him out of these thoughts reminding him to write before the whistle screeched once again.
“Okay darling it’s about time you get on” his mum said before pulling him into one more hug. “Be brave for Peter, yes?”
James smiled and nodded before looking over to Peter who seemed embarrassed at his own parents' affectionate goodbye. Peter had his pudgy hands shoved down into his pockets, his face a hot tomato red as his mother pinched his cheeks lovingly if overbearingly. As he tried to avoid his mother’s eye contact he locked eyes with James who smiled, Peter’s face grew more red though he too broke out into a grin.
The whistle blared and a conductor began to yell about being on the train before it left.
James walked over and grabbed Peter by the hand and began to pull him towards the open train door desperately wanting to stick with his best mate through the chaos.
They waved at their parents over their shoulders and climbed the steep wooden steps of the Hogwarts express. The pair held their backpacks tightly, not wanting to be too jostled and lose sight of their cargo.
Once inside they were bombarded with noise and life as older students reunited and first years scampered about to find somewhere to sit. The robes that some students had already dawned slapped against James’ legs tripping him slightly as they flowed from the wind.
James broke into a huge grin and began to race down the narrow hall all the way to the end of the train before finding a compartment that he considered suitable based on no characteristics other than energy. He struggled to dodge people and was shouted at more than a few times from older students but he was on a mission. He yanked an out of breath Peter inside declaring:
“This is it Petey! Our compartment on our trip to our first year!” Any nerves abandoned him though poor Peter had not seemed to find the same excited energy. Peter glanced back feverently to the people they had narrowly avoided running into with apologizing looks.
Like all the other compartments it held two benches facing each other with a swirling pattern that seemed to shift every time James looked at it. A thick curtain hung on either side of the window as well as on the window of the door. The energy was palpable, at least to James, from the way the sun beamed through the window to how the curtain was drawn he knew this was where his journey should begin, of course not at all helped by it being the only free compartment that the two boys had passed.
James strutted inside stretching his arms out into the space, Peter trailed after him placing his bag down on one of the benches. Peter had hardly put the thing down since buying it at Olivanders.
James tossed his small backpack onto the bench seat before racing to open the window and search for his parents once again. His eyes scanned until they found his mum and dad arm in arm with one another looking for him as well. Peter’s parents stood next to them and they appeared to be chatting though James was too far to hear what they said.
“Mum! Dad!”
Their glassy eyes locked with his and with a jolt the train began to pull away. James waved feverishly as he stuck his torso out the window much to the dismay of Peter who urged him against falling out. The parents waved back through smiles and tears and Peter’s mother through full sobs.
The rest of the parents on the platform did the same and as James glanced to the side he could see his new fellow schoolmates waving and yelling their goodbye, some through laughter and grins and others through tears, promises to write daily.
Eventually the train picked up speed and James was unable to wave any longer; he had long lost sight of his parents but loved the idea that they too had been waving until they couldn’t any longer. His hand had tired and the students from other windows had disappeared from his view so he finally returned to the bench seat prepared to overwhelm Peter in questions about what house he thinks he will end up in and his new wand.
The material of the bench was slightly itchy and had a faint smell of must as though it had been used for decades. James was thankful that he had opened the window as the breeze brought in fresh air, especially as the train had seemed to make it out of London. How it had moved so fast James didn’t know, beginning to wonder how much magic the train utilised for their journey. He began to ponder this theory aloud, forgetting his questions for Peter. His mate replied when necessary and when not seemingly just as excited as James felt. His thoughts were cut short as another boy walked up to the door of the compartment.
He had dirty blonde hair, darker than Peter’s platinum as though he didn’t spend time in the sun over the holiday and was lanky. His jumper was a bit too short at the wrists and his jeans at the ankle, allowing his pale skin to peak out. The truly eye catching piece of his appearance was the scars that crawled up his neck and cracked in lightning shapes across his hands. They were long and silvery and seemed to ripple across his skin as the boy contorted his hands to pull the jumper down a bit at the wrist. James was awestruck, this boy looked like the hero from a book. James imagined he could have got the scars from fighting a super villain or saving a damsel despite him definitely also being a first year.
“Can I sit everywhere else is full” the boy said, hardly making eye contact to the point James couldn’t tell his eye colour. James’s grin widened if it was even possible at that point before bouncing up and welcoming the newcomer in.
He shoved his backpack to the ground and it fell with a sharp thud, falling open slightly. His Bertie Botts box tumbled out towards the window thankfully not spilling. James paid them no mind taking a step closer to the kid before him. His step was slightly shaken as the train lurched but the energy coursing through his veins kept him up right. The wind in the compartment wiped harder as the open door created a tunnel.
James’ curly black hair smacked him in rhythm with the wind, making it even more unruly than before and stinging slightly.
The boy had shorter hair than James did and while it had a wave it was not nearly as curly as James’ so he didn’t seem to struggle with the whipping as James did.
The boy with scars stepped inside and shut the door effectively ending the wind tunnel however James’ hair continued its passionate fight to be as unruly as possible. The boy moved to sit however chose the empty spot beside Peter not in James’ backpacks' former seat. Undeterred James prepared to make his first new friend at Hogwarts before he even reached the castle.
Though James was focused on the boy he moved to mess up Peter’s hair as his friend stole his sweets off the ground.
“I’m James and this is Peter” Peter threw his new found sweets to the bench and stuck his hand out to shake the new boys rather formally as though he wasn’t sure what to do. His smile hardly showed any nerves though, always egged on by James’ excitement.
“Hey mate alright?”
“Alright” the boy replied though he didn’t move to shake Peter's hand. The boy stared into Peter’s hand for a few seconds.
The car grew painfully, agonizingly awkward for a moment before Peter dropped his hand and his smile. James’s mind fought to find a way to recover the moment for Peter’s sake and that of their new soon to be friend. Peter stared at James waiting for him to say something unwilling to make the first move after a rejection no matter how slight. He couldn’t let his oldest mate and his newest get off on the wrong foot! Not when James was preparing to make lifelong friends out of this kid.
“So what’s your quidditch team?”
A beat.
Silence.
“I hate quidditch,” the boy replied, finally making strong, albeit annoyed eye contact at the question. His bright blue eyes held James’ firmly.