Sirius Black grinned at his reflection. He was clad in the Hogwart's school uniform, minus the mandatory robes. For the very first time in his life he didn't look ridiculous. Everything seemed tailored to fit him. The sweater vest was long gone and somehow he'd managed to the get the tie exactly right. If he didn't know better, he have sworn he looked cool. At least in that prep school soft of way.

"Not bad dear," the mirror approved. "If only you could do something about that hair."

The smile faded from Sirius's face. He licked his fingers and patted his hair but the short black hair failed to stay put. Despite waking up early, spending almost an hour in the bathroom and using every sort of hair gel imaginable, nothing had worked. The choppy bangs fell in his face at every opportunity while the back of his hair stuck out in slightly different directions.

"It's a lost cause dear." The hallway mirror was quite talkative and always opinionated as Wizard mirrors usually are.

Sirius stopped the battle with his hair. He folded his arms across his chest and gave his reflection a pointed look. "I like Mum's mirror better. It doesn't talk back."

"Suit yourself dear, but don't complain to me if the Muggle mirror doesn't tell you that you've got on two different socks."

Sirius looked down at his feet. He scowled at the gray sock and the black sock. Then, he padded back down the hall to his room.

"Are you sure you packed your scarf? You'll need it when you get cold."

"Yes, Mum."

"What about your dress robes? Have you got them son?"

"Yes, Dad."

On the living room couch, Remus Lupin sighed. The tiny house on 11 Channing Lane was a bustle of activity. The living room was filled with everything and anything a boy starting his third year at Hogwart's could need and then some. The fourteen year old sat patiently, and more than a little bored. He watched as his parents continued to add things to this suitcase or stuff other things in that one.

"Have you packed your books? Your extra scrolls? Your good quill?"

"Everything's been packed for weeks. That stuff is all in the blue bag." Remus resisted the temptation to sigh. Every time it came to do something important his parents became nervous wrecks. It was part of a need to protect him that Remus suspected would never quite go away. At the moment it was school, tomorrow it would be something else.

"Make sure you have everything. Hopefully, we'll be getting a new owl soon so that if you've forgotten anything we can send it to you."

Remus nodded at his father. They'd been for months without an owl using friends and families intermittently. However, looking at the bags Remus couldn't possibly think of anything he'd forgotten. His mother entered the living room with an armload of towels.

Remus tried to protest. "I've got six already, Mum. There's no more room."

His mother smiled at him. "Nonsense. I'll just put them in the bag with your robes. Now go tell you Dad if you need what's in the closet."

This time, Remus did sigh. He got up so that he could go into the next room, tell his father that he wouldn't need whatever it was only to watch as it was packed anyways. Protesting, he had learned, would get him nowhere.

Peter Pettigrew finished his breakfast quickly. Across the table his father sat. The Daily Prophet newspaper was spread out in front of him and open to the sports page. Peter looked at the page upside down but it was far from interesting. Next to him, his mother sat eating quietly. Every once in a while she'd try to engage her son and her husband into conversation, but she only drew one word comments from Peter and critiques on Quidditch from his father.

Peter poked his fork at his empty plate. "Can I be excused?"

"'May'," his father corrected without looking up.

"May I be excused?" Peter amended.

Now, his father looked up. He gave him a critical look. "I thought you told me you were packed."

Before Peter got a chance to protest his mother broke in. She laid a comforting hand on Peter's father. "Let him go. He wants to owl that girl."

"You're excused." Peter watched as his father huffed. Quickly he rose and started to leave. The tirade was already starting. "He gets a new owl and now he wants to post everyone. You spoil that boy. He's going to see that girl a in few hours, I don't know why he can't wait."

Still listening, Peter smiled when his mother defended him. "Hush. A little spoiling never hurt anyone."

The cold air whipped through King's Cross Station. Since James and his parents had arrived, the sky had grown darker. Sitting on a bench, hands wrapped around a cup of cocoa, James tried very hard not to look bored. Discreetly, he looked at his watch. The face read 'Too Bloody Early' and James had to smirk. He'd spent a the better part of a week trying to customize the different dials. He was especially proud of 'Dirt Sucks' which he had set to appear whenever he had his Herbology classes.

"You'll be sure to tell us when your Quidditch games start?" James looked at his mother. Her eyes were shining brightly with pride. He'd made the team last year as a Chaser and since then all his mother talked about was the 30 points he had scored in his very first game. She, of course, left out the fact that Gryffindor had lost to Hufflepuff.

James smiled at her. "Mum, you get a schedule. You know that."

"Well, of course I know that, but I like to hear from you. I don't like to just read a schedule."

"Exactly," added his father. He leaned closer to his son. "You know, your great uncle was a Keeper when he went to Hogwarts."

James nodded obediently. This was the start of the story about his great uncle Richard who had almost swallowed the snitch. After that, his mother would tell her story about second cousin Janet who was the announcer when they were at Hogwarts.

James quickly draw his hot cocoa. He stood abruptly in the middle of the part where uncle Richard had just caught the Quaffle. The story stopped and his parents looked at him with concern. Sheepishly, he held up the empty cup. "Just going for a refill. You don't mind?"

"Of course not. I'll finish the story when you get back."

"Sure." The smile on James's face was forced. He shuffled away, already resolving to take the long way around. He looked at his watched and sighed. 'Still Too Bloody Early.'

*Clunk*

The heavy trunk hit the top step of the staircase. After a bit more banging, Sirius managed to drag it down to the foyer. He resisted the temptation to do a floating spell and he wasn't going to ask his father for help. Sighing in exhaustion, he sat on the trunk a moment before going back upstairs.

The only thing left to bring down was a small duffle bag and that was more than easy to manage. Once he was upstairs, Sirius glanced around his room to see if he had forgotten anything. There were only a few more things he needed to pack. Carefully, he picked up a photograph from atop his wardrobe. The picture was old, about seven years.

In a simple silver frame a seven year old Sirius smiled up at him. In the picture, his father's hand gripped his son's shoulder and waved with the other. On young Sirius's other side, his Mum ruffled his hair affectionately. Setting down the photo, Sirius ran a hand through his hair. Mum always knew how to make it look right.

He jammed the photo in the bag. Over it, he stuffed his dress and school robes and finally his wand. Sirius had just zipped up the bag when his father stopped in the doorway. The older man's gaze looked around the room. In a weary voice like a person who didn't get enough sleep he asked quietly, "What's everything downstairs?"

Sirius blinked, then responded flatly. "Have to catch the train today." There was no reaction from his father. So Sirius clarified, "For Hogwarts."

"Oh." For a long amount of time, his father simply stood there unsure if he should go or stay. Finally, he asked Sirius, " Did you need any help?"

"I'm all packed."

"How are you getting—"

"The Fletchers are picking me up."

"Right then. You're all set then."

Sirius watched as his father nodded with a slight frown upon his face. Without another word he turned and left. Sirius listened as his father shuffled back to his study. Part of him was surprised that the man was even up this early. Sirius looked at the empty doorway and spoke quietly. "Bye Dad. I'll see you next year."

He picked up his duffle bag and walked downstairs.

"Would you like to explain this, young man?"

The shrill voice of Mrs. Lupin filled the house. Remus winced as she waved a colorful bag of tricks from Zonko's in front o her. He had been sure that he'd packed them far underneath his robes. Somehow in her repacking, his mother had found it. Part of him was wondering if she'd found anything else, but he decided it was better to look apologetic and appropriately chastised.

It didn't help. "I can't believe you were thinking of bringing something like this to school! I hope you didn't plan on using it. You can't afford to slip up or be caught, don't you understand that?" His mother paused to catch her breath. She seemed more worried than upset and slowly she was regaining her composure. "Why would you take a chance like that? If you got expelled from school, what would you do? Why don't think about that Remus? Why?"

Remus bit his tongue. He wanted to correct her and say that he wouldn't get expelled. At very worse he'd loose house points, but that was only if the teachers could catch him, which had yet to happen. Yet that information would no doubt fail to soothe his mother. Rather, he managed a tiny sounding, "I'm sorry. I wasn't thinking Mum."

His mother wrapped him in a tight hug. "You have to think about these things. I know you don’t like hearing it honey, but you're not like everyone else."

It was something Remus was quite aware of it and the constant reminding did nothing to help him deal with it. At times it seemed he couldn't do anything without being reminded of his 'condition.' It wasn't something he ever forgot but he didn't quite see the point of concentrating on it at every moment. Soon he'd be in school and know one would be there to shelter him. He hugged his mother back, more out of duty than love and calmed her.

"I know, Mum. Don't worry, everything will be fine."

James walked around the station watching as the Muggles walked to and fro. His parents had given him time to look around. It wasn't often that he saw the Muggle World and as long as he promised to be back on time they didnt' see why he couldn't look aruond. James walked about aimlessly. The station was filling and more and more wizards could be seen throught the area. They were without their robes but the give aways where there. Exotic animals, huge trunks, and gossip about Wizarding shops and sports filled the air.

"The Canons are so much better than--"

".... books was on back order. So now I have to wait..."

"... couldn't wait to get back to Hogsmeade..."

"... starting Divination this year..."

A group of girls walked by giggling. James walked by a group of the Hufflepuff Quidditch players. Then by a mother crouched down pulling a scarf around a smaller boy.

"Now don't forget to owl us," she said.

James smiled, glad his mother wasn't too bad emotionally. His Mum had done that the first time, but not since, thankfully.

"Potter! Hey Potter!"

James stopped short and turned a bit too quickly, tripping over a suitcase.

"Oh my God! Are you okay? Oh, geeze, you're not going to hurt me are y-- James! Hey! What you doing down there?"

James glared.

"Oh, yeah, right," Gerry Creavy extended a hand to pull his friend up.