1961- The Potters and the Blacks
The Potter Manor gleamed in the soft morning sunlight, its sprawling gardens and majestic towers exuding a quiet grandeur that reflected the family’s ancient lineage. Inside, however, the serene beauty was disrupted by the chaos that came with having an overexcited eleven-year-old wizard preparing for his first year at Hogwarts.
“James Fleamont Potter, if you don’t sit still for five minutes, I swear—” Euphemia Potter, Lady of the House, held up a finger in mock warning as her son darted past her, nearly knocking over a priceless vase.
“But, Mum! My wand! I need to check if it’s still in my trunk!” James exclaimed, his untidy hair sticking up in every direction as he dashed toward the luggage pile near the floo.
“It’s there, dear,” Fleamont Potter, his father, said with an indulgent smile, glancing up from his morning coffee. “You’ve checked it four times already. Besides, it’s not going to sprout legs and walk away.”
James ignored him, skidding to a halt near his trunk and flipping it open for the fifth time that morning. “Better safe than sorry!” he muttered, rummaging through his neatly packed belongings.
“Honestly,” Euphemia said, shaking her head as she set down a plate of freshly baked scones. “He’s going to wear himself out before he even gets on the train.”
“No chance of that,” Fleamont replied with a chuckle. “He’s got the energy of a dozen wizards.”
Before Euphemia could respond, the green flames of the floo roared to life, and out stepped Lyall Lupin, followed closely by his wife, Hope, and their son, Remus.
“Lyall! Hope! Remus!” Euphemia exclaimed, a warm smile spreading across her face as she hurried to greet them.
“Good morning, Euphemia, Fleamont,” Lyall said, brushing soot off his robes. “I hope we’re not too early.”
“Not at all!” Fleamont said, rising to his feet. “Come in, come in. James has been bouncing off the walls all morning. He’ll be thrilled to see Remus.”
The moment James spotted his friend, he let out an excited whoop. “Remus! You’re here!”
“James!” Remus beamed, rushing forward to meet him. The two boys immediately launched into a flurry of chatter, their words tumbling over each other as they shared their excitement about starting Hogwarts.
“Did you see the list of electives we’ll get in third year? I’m definitely taking Care of Magical Creatures.”
“Yeah, but what about Quidditch? Do you think we’ll make the house team?”
The adults watched the boys with fond smiles. “They’ve been inseparable since they met,” Hope said, her eyes softening as she looked at her son. “It’s good for Remus to have a friend like James.”
“He’s a good influence,” Euphemia agreed. Then, with a slight smirk, she added, “Though I’m not sure if the same can be said the other way around.”
Lyall chuckled. “Well, if they get into any trouble at school, at least they’ll have each other to blame.”
The boys, oblivious to their parents’ conversation, were now animatedly discussing what they expected the Sorting Hat would say to them.
“I bet I’ll be in Gryffindor,” James declared confidently. “My mum and dad were both Gryffindors, and they say it’s the best house by far.”
“I don’t know,” Remus said hesitantly. “What if I’m not brave enough for Gryffindor?”
“Rubbish!” James exclaimed. “You’re the bravest person I know.”
“James is right,” Hope interjected gently, placing a hand on her son’s shoulder. “You’ve already faced more than most kids your age ever will, and you’ve done it with courage.”
Remus gave a small, shy smile.
“Alright, boys,” Euphemia said briskly, clapping her hands. “The train won’t wait for us, so let’s get moving.”
---
The Potters and the Lupins travelled together in a grand, enchanted car that easily accommodated both families and their luggage. The boys spent the entire ride excitedly planning their first day at school, their energy so infectious that even the adults couldn’t help but smile.
As the car pulled up to King’s Cross Station, James pressed his face against the window. “We’re here! Platform Nine and Three-Quarters!”
“Don’t forget your trolleys,” Fleamont reminded them as the families unloaded their trunks.
The boys pushed their trolleys eagerly, their parents walking close behind. When they reached the barrier between platforms nine and ten, Euphemia knelt in front of James.
“Remember, darling, write to us as soon as you can, and try not to get into too much trouble.”
“I promise, Mum,” James said, though his mischievous grin suggested otherwise.
“Remus, be careful,” Hope said, smoothing her son’s hair. “And if you ever need anything, don’t hesitate to write.”
“I will, Mum,” Remus said softly.
With final hugs and goodbyes, the boys took a running start and disappeared through the barrier, emerging on the other side to the sight of the Hogwarts Express in all its gleaming red glory.
James and Remus stood there for a moment, taking it all in.
“This is it,” James said, his eyes sparkling.
“This is really it,” Remus echoed, a mix of excitement and nerves in his voice.
“Come on,” James said, nudging his friend. “Let’s find a compartment before they’re all taken.”
---
Grimmauld Place- The ansestral home of the Ancient and Noble house of Black was as dark and unyielding as the family who called it home. The walls were draped with heavy, moth-eaten curtains, and the air was thick with the scent of old magic and dust. The Black family crest, with its proud motto, “Toujours Pur,” was etched into every surface, a constant reminder of the burden Sirius had carried since birth.
Eleven-year-old Sirius Black stood outside his room watching, his trunk open on the floor knowing he had to go back to methodically place his neatly folded robes inside, arranging them with the precision that had been drilled into him since he was old enough to walk. His mother’s voice echoed from downstairs, sharp and cutting, as she berated Kreacher for some minor offense.
“Useless little vermin,” Walburga Black sneered. “How dare you leave the silver unpolished?”
Sirius rolled his eyes, muttering under his breath, “It’s already spotless.” He bent over to pack his cauldron, careful not to make a sound. Drawing attention to himself was the last thing he wanted.
Orion Black, his father, was seated in the parlor, hidden behind a newspaper as usual. He was a man of few words, distant and uninterested, except when it came to ensuring the Black name remained unblemished. Sirius doubted his father even remembered he was leaving for Hogwarts today.
Sirius went back to his room for a quick double check, As Sirius tucked his wand carefully into his trunk, there was a quiet knock at the door. Before he could answer, it creaked open to reveal his ten-year-old brother, Regulus.
“Sirius?”
A soft voice pulled him from his thoughts. He turned to see his younger brother, Regulus, standing hesitantly in the doorway. At ten years old, Regulus was the spitting image of their mother—pale, sharp-featured, and always dressed to perfection. But his wide, uncertain eyes reminded Sirius that he was still just a kid.
“Come in, Reggie,” Sirius said, patting the space next to him on the floor.
Regulus hesitated, glancing over his shoulder to make sure their mother wasn’t lurking nearby, before scurrying into the room. He closed the door behind him with the careful precision of someone who had learned to avoid making noise in a house that punished imperfection.
“Are you done packing?” Regulus asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
“Almost,” Sirius replied, lifting his cauldron to make space for his potion supplies. “What’s up, baby bat?”
Regulus frowned at the nickname, his face flushing. “I’m not a baby,” he muttered, sitting down cross-legged beside Sirius.
“You’ll always be my baby brother,” Sirius said with a grin, reaching out to ruffle Regulus’ neatly combed hair. Regulus huffed, swatting his hand away, but the faint smile tugging at his lips betrayed him.
“I don’t want you to go,” Regulus admitted after a moment, his voice small.
Sirius paused, his grin softening. He reached out, pulling Regulus into a one-armed hug. “I’m not going forever, Reggie. I’ll be back for Christmas.”
“But what if…” Regulus trailed off, biting his lip. “What if you don’t like it there? Or they don’t like you?”
Sirius snorted. “What’s not to like? I’m brilliant, charming, and devilishly handsome.” He puffed out his chest dramatically, earning a small giggle from Regulus.
“Be serious,” Regulus said, though he was smiling now.
“I am Sirius,” he replied, grinning at the familiar joke. When Regulus groaned and buried his face in his hands, Sirius pulled him closer. “Listen, little bat. It’s going to be fine. I’ll write to you every week, and I’ll tell you all about Hogwarts. And when you come next year, I’ll be there to show you around, and you can sneak into my dorm at night at home I doubt Hogwarts will be as strict as mother.”
“You promise?” Regulus asked, looking up at him with wide, hopeful eyes.
“Cross my heart,” Sirius said, drawing an exaggerated X over his chest. “And if anyone messes with you, I’ll hex them into next week.”
Regulus’ smile widened, but it quickly faltered. “Mother’s going to miss you,” he said, his voice hesitant.
Sirius snorted, rolling his eyes. “Mother’s going to miss bossing me around, you mean.”
Regulus didn’t respond, but the way he fidgeted with the hem of his sleeve told Sirius everything he needed to know.
“Hey,” Sirius said softly, turning to face his brother. “You’ll be fine without me. You’re Regulus Black. You’re smarter than I, quieter than myself, and way better at getting on Mother’s good side. You’ll have this place running smoother than ever.”
Regulus didn’t look convinced, but he nodded anyway. “You’re still my favorite,” he mumbled.
Sirius’ chest tightened, and for a moment, he forgot about his packed trunk, Hogwarts, and the excitement of leaving Grimmauld Place behind. He leaned down and kissed the top of Regulus’ head. “You’re my favorite too, baby bat.” Regulus smiled up at him, his earlier anxiety momentarily forgotten. The sound of Walburga’s sharp voice calling for Sirius shattered the moment.
“Better get downstairs before she has Kreacher drag me down,” Sirius said, standing and ruffling Regulus’ hair one last time.
Regulus stood too, straightening his robes and lifting his chin in the practiced, aristocratic way their mother demanded. But as Sirius opened the door, Regulus reached out and grabbed his hand, holding it tightly for just a moment.
“Don’t forget,” Regulus whispered. “Write to me.”
“I won’t,” Sirius promised, squeezing his hand before letting go. “If you can’t sleep at night, you can sleep in my bed and remember the song.”
Regulus nodded, “So hold my hand don’t let it go…” Regulus muttered the last line.
“I’ll keep you safe, I love you so.” Sirius smiled and kissed little Regulus’s head.
Before either of them could say more, Walburga’s voice rang out from downstairs. “Sirius! Stop dawdling and come down at once!”
Regulus flinched, his small hands balling into fists. Sirius placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder. “I’ll see you at Christmas, yeah?” Regulus nodded, stepping back as Sirius closed his trunk.
When Sirius emerged from his room, Regulus stayed behind, watching his brother go with a mixture of pride and sadness. He didn’t dare follow him downstairs, where Walburga was waiting to deliver a parting lecture about family honor and expectations.
As Sirius descended the grand staircase, the oppressive weight of Grimmauld Place seemed to grow heavier. But in the back of his mind, he clung to one thought: Hogwarts. A place where, maybe, he could finally be something other than just another Black.
---
The platform was buzzing with excitement, kids scurrying around in excitement as parents called out reminders and last-minute goodbyes. James Potter, 11 years old and already full of boundless energy, stood at the edge of the crowd, clutching his trunk. His eyes scanned the sea of faces, the thrill of finally heading to Hogwarts filling his chest.
But then—everything seemed to slow down.
A girl stood near the train, framed by the steam hissing from the Hogwarts Express. Her hair was a bright red, like a flash of fire amidst the dull greys and browns of the platform. She turned for just a moment, her green eyes catching the light, and James felt his breath catch. She was there... and then gone, swallowed up by the crowd like some magical apparition.
James blinked. Had he imagined it?
Was she... an angel? Was he dreaming?
"James! James!" The distant voice broke into his thoughts, and James was jolted back to reality by a nudge from Remus Lupin, who had already boarded the train. “Come on! The train’s about to leave!”
James shook his head, as if to clear away the fog of whatever spell he’d just been under. He hurried after Remus, but his mind was still on the girl. Who was she? Had he really seen her, or was his imagination playing tricks?
They found an empty compartment and, with a thud, James plopped down onto the seat next to Remus, still dazed. His eyes drifted to the window, hoping for one last glimpse of the mysterious girl. But she had vanished.
Remus, with a thoughtful look about him, glanced at James and raised an eyebrow. "You alright?" he asked, his voice calm but filled with the same nervous excitement all first-years shared.
James leaned back against the seat, staring at the ceiling as if it could offer him answers. “I... I saw someone,” he muttered, still trying to make sense of it. “A girl. But she—she was just... gone. Like, disappeared into thin air or something.” James said making wild gestures from his hands.
Remus, who was quite perceptive for an 11-year-old, blinked at James in curiosity. “A girl? Who?” he asked, though his tone wasn’t teasing—just curious. They were still at that age where the concept of liking someone was distant, more of an unexplored idea than anything else.
“I don’t know.” James ran a hand through his messy hair, still looking baffled. “She had red hair. Green eyes. And then—” He gestured vaguely toward the window. “Poof. Gone.”
Remus was quiet for a moment, and then a small smile tugged at his lips. “Don’t worry,” he said in his usual calm, practical way. “You’ll probably see her again. We’re going to be at school together for years, after all.”
James nodded, though he was still unsure if he’d imagined the whole thing. “Yeah, maybe...” He trailed off, staring out of the window as the train gave a small jolt, signalling the beginning of their journey. The platform slowly slid out of view, and James couldn’t help but feel a pang of disappointment. What if she really was some sort of angel, and he’d missed his only chance to see her?
But Remus’ words settled him a little, and James leaned back, a small smile playing on his lips now. “You’re right. I’ll see her again.”
As the train puffed out of the station, James stared at the blur of the city fading into the countryside, his thoughts still drifting back to the red-haired girl. There was something magical about her. But then again, he was going to Hogwarts—everything was about to get magical. Maybe this was just the beginning.