September 1, 1971

Part the First September1, 1971

They are eleven when they first meet, voices callow and prepubescent, ringing up above the rhythmic chug-chug-chugging of the bright maroon train. They gather in the last car because Remus is shy, and has no friends, and is just trying to read. Because James and Sirius already know each other and claim the last car...it is the obvious choice. Because Mrs. Potter forces a reluctant James to let Peter tag along, poor boy, he's so bashful.

They are separated, already choosing allies and outcasts in their own microcosm. Remus, sitting in the second to first seat, absorbed in the conquests of wealthy wizards, Peter in the booth behind Sirius and James, poking his head over the burgundy seat, obviously trying to include himself in their whispered banter. Sirius and James, two dark heads lean together, lowered murmurings even more obviously trying to bar the nosy boy out of their exchange about the Tired-Looking Bloke.

Remus is only trying to read his novel, (Magical Munificence, whish is surprisingly interesting) when Sirius, all bouncing grey eyes, grinning mouth and untucked shirt sidles up to him and peers over his shoulder, breathing loudly down his neck. Suddenly, he snatches the book away, glancing at it, first bringing it up close to his face as if he could fall into its pages, then as far away from his face as his arms will stretch, squinting eruditely. He turns it upside down, then sideways, then flips a few pages back and forth, even sniffing them tentatively before finally settling for placing it on his head at a jaunty angle, genuflecting his pleasure with his new plaything grandiosely. James guffaws loudly and waves his dark haired companion back, laughter still bubbling in his throat. Sirius shambles towards him with as must dignity as he can muster, trying to keep the heavy text balanced atop his crown until James pushes him last minute and he falls gracelessly, arms flailing, into Peter. The smaller boy shrieks and Sirius covers his ears, hands slamming into his head, then cautiously, pokes Peter's belly: at which he shrieks even louder, mouth open comically wide and eyes scrunched. It must amuse Sirius for he chases the towheaded boy about the cramped cabin, over and under seats, attempting to prod his ample stomach while James rolls on the floor, legs in the air, dying of laughter.

Remus has no idea how to deal with the current circumstances and resolves this by surreptitiously turning himself into a rock. He fold his hands neatly in his lap, crosses his legs, grimacing when the too short pant legs ride up, and looks straight ahead, thinking vaguely rockish thoughts. His honey brown hair falls into his eyes and he blows at it futilely, trying over and over to do it as quietly as possible. He hears the Mad Boy and the Squeaky Lad crashing around behind his seat, but dares not look. It would only draw attention to himself and that would most certainly be a Bad Thing; so he sits and focuses on nothing and reaches a vaguely happy place until a warm boy's body knocks into him and he yelps with surprise. Suddenly he is on the floor in a tangle of boy-limbs and school robes, and there is someone's wand in his mouth and somebody else is sitting on his arm and, oh my God, is someone gnawing on his ankle!? Carefully, he extracts himself from the Pile of Impending Doom and is nearly free when another body is flung in their general direction and he registers the Crazy-Haired Boy before his cheek hits the hard cold tile once again and he has robe in his mouth and someone is sitting on his head.

James is atop what is, quite possibly, the writhingest, squirmiest, most fidgety blob of person he has ever had the privilege of sitting on. Someone is jabbing a wand into his arse and he surely hopes it is Sirius because if it were Peter or the Bloke with Bags under his Eyes, that would be more than a little creepy and even more awkward. He makes a move to get up, but when he is almost standing, feigning good will, he throws himself firmly back against the mass and pounds on Peter's head in a way that is surely an accident. He is having the time of his short life until Sirius threatens in his wheezing growl that he will break James's glasses if he doesn't geroff. And when James declines to acquiesce in a manner that is purely jocular and in good humor, because of course he was planning to geroff eventually, they are ripped off his face and snapped in two.

Peter is getting squished and can't breathe and his stomach hurts from where James's Friend has been prodding him. It's not his own fault that his mother makes the Best Treacle Tart in the WORLD and it is around the house all the times. He loves her pigs in a blanket...and pheasant pie...and shepard's pie...and apple pie...and Great Merlin's bread, pie is Peter's favorite thing in the whole UNIVERSE if it is even possible. If a genie appeared out of nowhere and granted Peter one wish, he would quite possibly ask for a room of pie to just swim in....or float in...yes. Because swimming would require expending energy which he most certainly does not have...especially not now...because his lungs are being crushed, along with the rest of him, and someone smells like wet dog.

Sirius considers breaking James's glasses into a million, gajillion, zillion, trillion little pieces. He only has the strength to break them into two, however, and they are snatched out of his hands before he can get to work on gnawing at them. He is sure if he had the chance, it would have garnered him at least four most pieces. James is moaning right in his ear and bashing the two pieces together as if, if he hit them together hard enough, their molecules would meld spontaneously...or something. Sirius doesn't really know because he was never very good at blodge...or chemistry...or maths for that matter. He has to duck quickly because James's fist is heading straight for his face in a decidedly unfriendly manner, interrupting his purely innocuous musings. And even though James looks like someone could very well pick him up and snap him in two, and his hair is obviously not as marvy as Sirius's, he does throw a mean right hook.

Remus is once again, confused and bewildered and lost and bemused and could come up with a hundred other synonyms in the next minute and fifty more after that, but cannot for the life of him figure out what to do with himself now. He is crouched on the floor in the fetal position because that is what his Aunt Mary says he should do when the end of the world comes, and now is a better time to try it out than ever. But, he gets trodden on and decides this is definitely not the time or the place to be a Girl...but cannot bring himself to tackle the other boys, as it is obviously the very essence of what being a Boy is. If you are a Boy, you must tackle someone... multiple times if the venue is appropriate. He remembers when his cousin Alfred wanted to wrestle and Remus accidentally broke his nose. With more consternation, he recalls how Alfie decided that Remus needed to wear a dress and cook meals because that was all he was good for anyway, and then he shoved him into one of his Aunt's personal dresses...and Remus had no idea why they were so personal, but his Aunt certainly seemed to think they were because she called Remus's mother and demanded he go see a head doctor. Remus assumed that meant he was crazy, which, he decided, isn't too far off from the truth because he certainly feels mad. He glances around the room, assessing the chaos around him, and nods, definitely insane, then curls up in the fetal position once more because he doesn't want to break anyone's nose or be shoved into any dresses.

James can't see! He's gone blind and it's entirely his ex-best friend's fault. He sees indistinct shapes running about the car and takes a jab at one of them, smiling victoriously as his fist finds its mark, but realizes he's hit the wrong person when he hears a squeaky shriek. Oops...oh well, a little beating never hurt anyone, right? Well, actually they usually did, but Peter would live...hopefully. Sometimes James didn't know his own strength and he needs to keep that monster within him in check. Then he sees another splotch of color on the ground, and this one is Sirius trying to be sneaky and escape from the Fury of James, but he won't get away because James's wit will outsmart him. He is going to be pummeled in to the ground. He lets his first blows fall when he realizes it's not Sirius...actually. He's just attacked the Peaky Looking Lad and...oh my God, what if he's just murdered him? Because the lad didn't look too good to begin with and what if he has to--No! he can't go to jail! He hasn't even gotten to pound Sirius yet and....this is bad. This is so bad. This is so very, very bad and...is the boy moving? James puts his face up very close to the Sick Boy's face because that's the only way he can see if he's dead or not. Bloody flobberworm's piss, his eyes are closed and bloody bloody hell, James has killed him. And gah! And poo! And double double merde! And--that is, however, when the bloke on the floor decides to snap his eyes wide open, and he yelps, bolting upwards reflexively, banging his head against James's and ow, bloody ow.

Sirius snickers from where he is crouched...behind a booth...under it really, and he knows it is a cowardly place to hide...but really, if it saves him from James's wrath, it is utterly worth it. Physically challenged people amuse him, especially James, who is near blind without his glasses and wouldn't be able to tell a Basilisk from a Doxy if it didn't bite him in the face first. Honestly, he doesn't blame the Sickly Lad for yelling at the top for his lungs. Sirius, himself, has often woken to Great Big James Face looming over him and it would, admittedly, send shivers up even the bravest man's spine. It doesn't help that James's hair is so sticky outy and all over the place...it just adds to the intimidation factor and causes shouts to be louder and more deafening.

Peter pokes his nose tentatively and squeaks when it hurts. He pokes it again. It still hurts! Woe! It feels giant, and throbbing, and red like a tomato, and he is sure his new friends do not like to hang about with Tomato Nosed People. He wonders why James punched him. He hasn't done anything wrong...has he? Maybe he was miffed that Peter stuck his wand in his ear? That had been unintentional....really. He prods his nose again...ouch...it still hurts.

Remus sees a maniac glint in the Sticky Haired Bloke's eyes and is immediately afraid. He must do everything in his power to stay away from that crazy, twiggy haired insane person. He tries to slide as far away as possible to get as far away from Impending DOOM as possible, but the Twiggy Haired Boy catches sight of him with the mad, mad, glint in his admittedly unfocused eyes, and pounces. Remus squeezes his eyes shut after the first blow. He is getting punched for being such a Girl. He knows it. Only then, nothing else happens and his eyes are squeezed tight and his lips are pressed together in a thin line and he guesses he looks like one of those wrinkly oranges his father brought home from France once. He doesn't open his eyes until he feels a little tickling on his check and it feels like someone is breathing on him and that is even more disconcerting than being beat up for being a girl, so his eyes snap open and he is looking at a very close up nose and wide mouth and large, scared looking brown eyes and messy black hair and that just tops it off. He yells "yargh!" and before he can think, he tries to run away, but only succeeds in bashing his forehead on the other boy's nose (which is definitely sturdier than any nose should be) and is on the floor again for what seems like the thirty-seventh time today and he can't fathom why.

Suddenly a tinkling bell rings and eight ears perk up as the cabin doors slide open without a creak, ushering in a plump lady wearing a fluffy pink apron and a genial smile. And the cart, oh the cart! It is the answer to every boy's wish, laden with treats and candies and goodies galore. Remus jumps into the nearest seat, and consequently, on top of Sirius who yells and spits out pieces of Remus hair, while James staggers around helplessly until Peter decides to take the initiative (after much silent debating) and pulls James by the robes into the seat next to him. The cart lady smiles beatifically and Sirius thinks she is about the loveliest sight he has ever seen and he grins while throwing her a handful of galleons, feeling like the king of the world. He buys just about the entire cart and Peter thinks he is in heaven because there is food raining down on him for no apparent reason. He rejoices and does a little jig until James pushes him back down into his seat because Remus has just offered to fix his glasses. They are tapped three times with a light brown wand and James can see again! (Although no one tells him that frames are now bright pink with the occasional yellow polka dot). There are pumpkin pasties, and chocolate frogs, and Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans galore! Peter eats a bogie flavored one and turns a glorious shade of apple green and tries not to throw up all over James's new school uniform while Sirius claps Remus on the back for catching a chocolate frog in his mouth and swallowing it whole. James, in contest, shoves a whole pumpkin pasty in his mouth and starts to choke so Peter has to bounces on his stomach a few times. By the time they arrive at Hogwarts, they are sticky and full of candy and utterly exhausted, and they lean on each other for support as the four companions stagger out of the train. Peter is nearly killed by a carriage pulled by nothing, and Remus pulls him out of danger just in time. They laugh heartily, some more than others, while piling into the very carriage that caused the almost-casualty. Remus even tackles James as they step in, (it was purely by accident, but no one needs to know). They punch each other and Sirius sits on James's head and no one calls Remus a girl.

Fin.