The sun rose slowly over the mountain horizon outside James Potter's bedroom. The trees were just starting to turn the golden brown colours of autumn as the weather started to get colder and the sun dipped a little lower in the sky. August was officially over, as was summer, and the date of September 1st could only mean one thing. Today James was starting at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. For as long as he could remember, James had been waiting for this day, and ever since he got his acceptance letter a few months ago, he has been imagining himself a great wizard, like his dad and watching his mother intently as she used various spells to clean up the house. He knew that those spells would come in handy whilst he was away. He hated Muggle cleaning but knew that he's not allowed to use magic outside of school until he turns of age at seventeen which was a whole six years away, so he had to get used to it. Not anymore.

James Potter jumped out of bed excitedly, ruffled his always-messy black hair, and rammed his round glasses onto his face. He threw on the Muggle clothes that he had left out the day before and charged down the stairs into his living room where his father, Charles Potter, was reading the days Daily Prophet and his mother, Maria Potter, was cooking breakfast in the kitchen. How they were able to act so normal was completely beyond James. Struggling to keep still with excitement, James proceeded to pace up and down the room, while his parents laughed at him. He kept thinking about the school, soon to be his school, whilst thinking of all the stories that his parents had told him of their times there, the four houses, the Quidditch matches, the teachers, the classes, the spells…

James took out his wand, an 11-inch, and pliable mahogany one with a dragon heartstring core and just stared at it. It was hard to believe that it was really his, finally. Ever since he was old enough to understand what it was, James had longed for a wand of his own, and he was finally going to learn how to use it. Arriving at Hogwarts could not come soon enough.

After wolfing down his breakfast as fast as he possibly could, and somehow managing not to choke, James sat at stared at his parents with wide, excited eyes, willing them to eat faster, willing time to go faster, so he could finally set off. He couldn't remember ever being this excited, and bounced up and down on his seat, counting the seconds in his head.

'Trunk packed?' asked Charles.

'Yes.' replied James.

'Got all your books?'

'Yes.'

'Got all of your quills and ink?'

'Yes.'

'Ready to go?'

James couldn't help but grin.

'You bet I am, dad!'

'SIRIUS!'

The room practically shook with the volume of Walburga Black's shrieks and a tall, muscular looking boy by the name of Sirius Black opened his grey eyes. It wasn't the first time that he woke up due to the large number of decibels emitting from his mother's vocal chords. Slightly frustrated, he sleepily pulled himself out of his bed and looked over at his calendar.

'September 1st,' he whispered, eyes widening and grin appearing. 'SEPTEMBER 1st!'

Sirius suddenly felt more awake than he could ever remember being. He practically skipped around the room as he got changed and threw various objects that were lying about into a large, open trunk. For so long he had been waiting for this day. The day that he could finally leave this horrible house that he is obligated to call home.

Sauntering down the stairs, trying to conceal his excitement, Sirius came face to face the terrifying form of his mother.

'Table. Now.' she instructed.

Slightly nervous, Sirius walked into the kitchen to find his father, Orion Black, sitting at the head of the table, clearly waiting for him. Walburga entered also, slamming the door behind her as she went.

'Now, Sirius. I just wanted to make you clear on a couple of things before you leave this house.' Orion said, glaring at his son.

'First of all, you are a Black. You must behave in the appropriate way. I will not stand for any detention or rule breaking. We are a respected family, we have been for generations and I will not have you ruining the reputation of the Ancient and Most Noble House of Black, am I clear?'

'Yes, father.' Sirius replied, struggling to hide his aggravation at his family name.

'Second,' his mother joined in, 'I will not have you befriending any Mudblood or blood-traitor scum. You are a pureblood, the way wizards should be, and I will not have any son of mine mingling with filth like that. Am I clear?'

Through gritted teeth Sirius gave a, 'Yes, mother.' He hated the way his parents acted. All through his life he had disagreed with their views on blood purity and Muggles but had learned, after several beatings, to keep his mouth shut and answer the way his entire family wanted him too, despite how much he had grown to hate them all.

'Is that everything, then? Can I go now?' he asked.

'Are you packed?' his father shot at him.

'Yes.'

'Have you got all your books?'

'Yes.'

'Have you got the Slytherin scarf I gave you?'

'…Yes.'

Walburga's hand whipped backwards and slapped Sirius across the face.

'Do NOT lie to your father!' she screeched.

Sirius held his face, tears stinging in his eyes, though he refused to let them fall. His father pulled a green and silver scarf out from underneath the table.

'How can you when I have it here?' he smirked.

His father threw it at him as hard as he could, which wasn't very hard, considering the material that it was made out of, but still Sirius cowered away from the looming man standing over him.

'You WILL be in Slytherin, Sirius.' he stated, before he and his wife swept from the room.

Sirius looked at the scarf on the ground, hating it. His whole family had been in Slytherin and he hated the lot of them. There was nothing he wanted more than to be away from them, different from them.

'I'll kill myself if I'm in Slytherin,' Sirius whispered, still holding his face, which was starting to bruise, and he left the room, dreaming of all the time he would soon have away from this house.

Peter Pettigrew landed on his bedroom floor with a loud THUMP! Dazed, he woke up and realized that he had rolled out of his bed during his dream. It was a good dream, pity he couldn't remember it. Heaving himself off the floor and running a hand through his short mousy brown hair, Peter looked around his room. There were clothes scattered all over the floor in the general area of his trunk. Suddenly remembering what day it was, Peter looked at his watch to find that he had slept in longer than he meant to. He was going to get up early on account of the fact that he hadn't finished packing and now there was barely time. Running around the room, grabbing everything he could get his hands on; he threw them into the large trunk messily. He had never been very organised.

'MUM! Mum, can you come here?!' he yelled, whilst hurling an old book across the room.

Soon enough, Neva Pettigrew arrived and stood at the door, taking in the bombsight that was once her son's bedroom.

'Mum, I can't find my Transfiguration book! Or my cauldron! And … and WHERE'S MY WAND?!' he cried, his small, watery eyes darting around the room.

Neva sighed at her son's carelessness. How he was going to manage when he left was beyond her.

'Honestly, Peter, you'd lose your head if it wasn't attached to your neck.'

'Mum, can't you just help me?'

'Your book is lying on the couch where you left it when you were reading over it yesterday. I packed your cauldron for you last night after you went to sleep because I had a feeling that you would forget it and your father put your wand on the kitchen table when he went to work this morning.'

Peter's father, Wilfred Pettigrew, worked at the Ministry of Magic as an Unspeakable in the Department of Mysteries. His father worked long hours and Peter didn't see him very much, and knew almost nothing about his work. Wilfred took his job very seriously and spent more time and effort there than he did with his own family, subsequently Peter generally concluded that he had been raised completely by his mother. Sometimes he found himself thinking that his father was ashamed of him and that was why he was never home. It was because of this that Peter wanted to go to Hogwarts so much, to show his father that he could be proud to have a son like Peter.

'Oh, thanks mum.'

'Is that everything then?'

'I think so.' Peter said, scanning the room for any stray items that he had forgotten.

Neva pulled her son into a tight hug, which he returned. Peter felt quite guilty about leaving, because he knew that his mother would be alone in the house most of the time while his father was always at work. Neva felt tears sting her eyes and she willed them away. She was so proud of Peter, going to Hogwarts at long last. She was going to miss him so much, and she was nervous that he would have trouble making friends, because he was quite shy.

'I'm really going to do this, mum.' Peter smiled.

'I know, baby. You're going to have a great time.'

A pale, thin boy by the name of Remus Lupin sat in the middle of his room, staring at his ceiling. A few years ago his mother had bought him glow in the dark star stickers to decorate his room and his dad had levitated them to stick to the ceiling. The small boy used to sit and stare at them for hours, thinking that it would be the only kind of magic he would ever get to experience. Whilst his mother, Audra Lupin, is a Muggle, his father, John Lupin, is an Auror at the Ministry of Magic so Remus knew all about Hogwarts and heard all sorts of stories from his dad about the school but until that fateful day when he got his letter, Remus had never believed that he would ever get accepted there because of his secret.

'Remus, are you packed?' asked Audra, watching her son from his bedroom door and knowing exactly what he was thinking about.

'Yes, mum.' Remus answered quietly, almost a whisper.

'It'll be ok, son. Professor Dumbledore said that he had everything ready for you when you went.'

Remus nodded, feeling tears in his eyes. He hated getting any form of special treatment. It just reminded him even more of the monster that he was. In truth, he was scared about going to Hogwarts. He was absolutely terrified. It would be the first time that he would be away from his family for a significant amount of time, and he would be under the responsibility of a load of teachers, all of who would know about him. He hated people knowing his secret, knowing what he really is, and knowing he's a monster.

'Remus, you know that you can't tell anyone. It has to be a secret,' Audra whispered.

'I know mum. I'm scared. What if someone notices that I disappear every full moon? What if they figure it out? I don't want them to know that I'm a monster.' At the last word Remus hung his head, and a single tear ran down his cheek.

'Remus John Lupin, you listen to me right now. You are not a monster, and don't you ever let anyone tell you that you are!' Audra scolded, then allowed her tone to soften and went forward to put a hand on her son's shoulder. 'I know it will be hard. This was never going to be easy, you knew that. Just see how it goes, ok. You'll make lots of friends and have a great time, just like any normal kid your age. I'll go make breakfast; you just come down when you're ready, ok?'

Her son nodded and she left the room. Remus stood up, and pulled at his shabby clothes. His dad earned enough for them to get by but they didn't have very much money to spend on new clothes. Remus's mother had to give up work to take care of him when he was first born and intended to go back when Remus was older, but it would be later realised that that wasn't a possibility. Remus couldn't be left alone to look after himself on the full moons, Audra knew that and Remus knew that, but he still felt guilty about it.

A pale blue jumper lay folded on top of Remus's trunk and he pulled it on over his T-Shirt. Even though the summer had ended, there was still some lingering heat and he didn't want to have to wear the jumper but it covered his arms and the many scars that covered them and his whole body.

'You stupid idiot, Remus,' he whispered to himself, 'Look what you've done to yourself. You stupid monster!'

He looked in the mirror at his pale complexion and the dark circles outlining his eyes and sighed before leaving his room to find his mother again. He was going to leave soon, live somewhere else. He wondered how the wolf would deal with the different surroundings, prayed that his transformations would somehow be better, all the while longing that he could be like every other magical child his age, merely excited about going to Hogwarts, not having to worry about what was going to happen to them when they got there. Not having to be a werewolf.