Harry Potter, now that the excitement, the rebellion had worn off, was feeling very blue. His relatives had not been pleased to drop him off at Kings Cross, not at all. They did not enjoy being blackmailed into delivering him to magic school, which they had been quietly praying had just blown away and wouldn't trouble them. Petunia had been dying shirts grey for a week, ready for him to attend stonewall. All that time wasted.

Harry had gotten the letter months ago, from a very persistent owl. First, it approached him as he was returning from the library. But, a large bird swooping down at a small child is not a peaceful event, and Harry ran home as fast as he could. The second time, it knocked on the window as he was preparing breakfast for the Dursleys. He narrowly was able to dislodge it before Aunt Petunia walked in and scolded him to taking too long. Finally, it flat out landed on him when he was in the yard weeding and refused to leave until Harry took the letter on its talons. After Harry had the heavy parchment, it gave a cheerful hoot and flew off. Harry stuffed the envelope in his shirt and continued weeding, hoping the next chore would be indoors and he could get out of the sun. It took him three days to find the time and memory to open the letter and see what they wanted enough to have the owl chase him down.

Magic. He, Harry no-name Potter, was magical. Son of two drunks, nephew to the most boring and plain family, and he was a wizard. After he pushed past the shock and disbelief, he realized that the Dursleys would never let him go, unless he forced them to. So, Harry hatched a plan.

The details weren't important, the important part was that it worked. Harry was at Kings Cross Station with the trunk he found in the attic. His mother's trunk, going by the plate attached on the underside of the lid. Lily Marie Evans.

Inside the trunk was the greatest treasure, all of his parents' old school supplies. It was everything he had, both of them and at all. You see, Harry's plan had not involved him getting to Diagon Alley and purchasing school supplies. No, all the boy had was the contents of his mother's trunk. His mother's trunk, the summer after sixth year, having been cleaned out and tucked away for storage.

In all honesty, Harry was worried about being short on supplies. While he had some of the things on the list, like most of the textbooks, and then some, he lacked others. The Potions ingredients, for one. Gloves for herbology. A telescope. More than one set of robes. (In truth, he lacked all robes. He had his mother's spare sixth year robes, and to a boy who never wore properly fitting clothes, he couldn't tell the difference.) Still, he was optimistic. Two months ago, Harry had no real future. Now, he was a wizard in training! He dragged his trunk toward the platforms, reasoning that 9 ¾ would be between platforms 9 and 10, and indeed, as he approached he saw a few people quietly ducking into the wall between the two. He soon followed, careful not to draw attention, and found himself in a new world.

Billowing white smoke and a scarlet steam engine, followed by a long line of shining black carriages, the platform crowded with children of all ages and parents passing along gifts or advice. Fireplaces on the far wall flashed green as people walked out of the fire. Over in the corner, people appeared out of thin air with a crack and a man blew a whistle to tell them to hurry off the platform.

Harry tried not to be overwhelmed by all of the noise and color, this being the most incredible thing he had ever seen. He tried to duck and weave past the families and their tearful goodbyes, careful not to think about how that should be him and his parents. He managed to get to the edge of the tracks and tried to load his trunk on the train. Tried being the operative word. Lily Evans had been using her old trunk for storage, and was friendly enough with a werewolf, who had enhanced strength even when not turned. She was also a dab hand at charms, and had started wandless early, and so if the ministry never caught a featherlight charm, well, it didn't hurt anyone. Her trunk was full of books, namely every textbook she had used for the past six years as well as reference material and any others she had been given. That was aside from the other items thrown into the trunk.

So, when Harry, a scrawny, underfed preteen tried to lever the thing up to the train he found gravity was far stronger than he was. (Indeed, Even Uncle Vernon, who had worked his way to an office job from ferrying pipes around had struggled to move the wooden box. He huffed and puffed and turned puce but managed to get it in the boot. Harry Potter, soon to be sorcerer supreme, needed help.

The train gave a shrill whistle and the engine started puffing faster as coal was fed into the boiler.

"Last call for Hogwarts!" the engineer called out, the crowds on the platform thinning fast.

Harry panicked, seeing his chances at a future start to leave without him. Just as he was about to lose hope, a family of redheads shot through the portal and sprinted for the train. The lead, a tall, thin boy turned around after he leapt onto the train and flicked his wand. The trunks that the others had been lugging shot forwards as if tugged by a leash. Quick as they could, the five redheads ducked onto the train, starting with the smallest. As the last brother hopped on, he turned hearing someone crying for help.

"Help!" Harry shouted over the blasts of the trains whistle. The platform was running out of space. The boy tugged on his twin's shirt and they jumped back off the train and sprinted for Harry. With a mighty heave they levered the heavy crate onto the train and yanked Harry up onto the coupler by his collar. Just in time, as he started to be able to count the cracks in the bricks in the wall at the end of the platform.

The two boys, identical in every way, both gasped for breath, but wore identical grins.

"Lookie here George, we're not the last ones this year. This firstie's even later than us!" he said, falling onto Harry's trunk as the city fell behind them.

"I see Fred, I see." The other called back.

"Narrowly made it, eh?" he said to Harry eying him. "You sure you're a firstie? I get that you lot are small, but just how old are you? If your name isn't on the list, Dumbledore will send you home. Ginny tried to sneak aboard last year, but Percy caught her."

"I'm eleven." Harry sputtered, his pulse still pounding in his ears. He had been inches away from being a splatter on the wall. Inches!

Out of Harry's sight, Fred elbowed his brother. "Oi! You alright? We got caught kinda close. Let's get you to a compartment, that way we're not sitting out in between cars."

The two boys carried Harry's trunk into the nearest empty car and wished him the best. They would stay, they said, but they had friends waiting on them, as well as a meeting of some sort. Harry waved them goodbye, finally getting the breath to thank them for their help. He settled into his seat and popped the lid to his trunk again.

He had found the old trunk in the attic, tucked behind a bunch of other boxes. Since Aunt Petunia went out of her way to forget about her sister, Harry figured she wouldn't miss the worn trunk. The nervousness rose in Harry again.

Was he going to be able to attend? Would everything be alright? The letter from the school hadn't explained much, and what he found in the trunk raised far more questions than answers. What were the gloves for? Or the vials he didn't have? What exactly was in the potions kit? Could he find the ingredients in the wild? He was really worried about the missing supplies. But, his face brightened, he had other supplies that weren't on the list! Plenty of books and other doodads that he didn't understand. Maybe he could trade some around for what he needed. They were used, and a little beaten up, but Harry rather liked them.

For one, he was used to secondhand things. After living with Dudley's cast offs for years, it was no problem. For two, some of the things had his parents' names on them! He was very protective of the delicate 'Lily' written in the textbooks, and the flashy 'James' stamped on the scales. Even if it was superficial, it was still something of his parents. The trunk also had 'Prongs, Padfoot, and Moony' carved on the side. A 'Wormtail' had been scratched out, no reason given.

Harry pushed the robes aside and reached for the book he had been working through. He felt weird, digging through the trunk, as it was almost big enough for him to fit in! His things barely covered the bottom, and he had stuffed all of his things in it! Harry wasn't certain, but he had a feeling that when he left the Dursleys, he wasn't going to be coming back. It would be nice to go back at some point, but he didn't expect to see them again any time soon. Still, he was learning magic! Magic! It was, well, magical!

He finally got a hand on the book and yanked it out. It was well worn, and dog eared, but otherwise carefully maintained. On the inside cover, in large silvery ink, was a scrawling Sirius O Black.

Harry relaxed in the seat and opened the book to the section he was on, 'Common Household Charms for the Unlucky Bachelor." He had a feeling it wasn't supposed to be for those new to magic, but the spells inside were some of the most useful he had ever dreamed of. To great relief, there had been a wand in the trunk, with a rather amusing note tagged to it.

Remus, next time you forget your potion remember to set this somewhere safe. I know wolfie isn't smart enough to use one, but you are. It's rather embarrassing to be running patrols as a sixth year and your partner not have a wand. Take better care of it, and yourself.

Respectfully, Lily

Harry pulled the wand from his sleeve and pointed it at the hinge on the side of the trunk. The hinge had failed when he moved the trunk from the attic, and he wasn't able to fix it. But, after consulting the book quite a few times, Harry had found a spell that should work. He swished and flicked from one end to the other.

"Reparo." He said calmly. To his surprise, the hinge snapped together, the broken piece rematerializing and binding itself to the brass.

"Congratulations! Was that your first charm?" he jumped, shocked to see a girl who looked a few years older than him beaming at him from the door, having let out a small round of applause.

"Er, yes." He said quietly, looking down. Was what he did wrong? Was she going to yell at him?

"That's wonderful! I'm glad you waited until you were on the train to perform it, since we're not allowed to use magic in front of muggles. I'm Hermione Granger, second year Gryffindor. You did great for a first time casting, but your grip is wrong. Don't worry, you'll learn how to hold your wand properly the first week of classes. Are you doing okay back here by yourself?" She smiled again and slid into the compartment. "I'm the first in my family to have magic, so I know what it's like to be just entering this world. I'm sure you have questions, ask away."