Sleeping With Ghosts

Sleeping With Ghosts

Part One: Slow Burn

"Cut!" screamed the exasperated director, fumbling with his pill bottle as he rubbed his temples. "For the last bloody time: you both walk over to the table and Harry, for the love of God, let her slap you!"

"I am, Alastor," the teenager spoke through clenched teeth. "Tell her to put some bloody effort into the slap!" he motioned at the elder, mother-like figure who was glaring at him with her hands perched firmly on her hips.

"You listen here, Harry Potter," Petunia Dursley, his aunt in the movie snarled evilly- practically spitting out his last name, her pinched face livid.

"Not another word out of the two of you," the voice was worn yet stern; pills were quickly swallowed as a pretty girl handed the aging director some water. "We need this to look as authentic as possible. Now Harry," he explained, turning to the up and rising new Hollywood actor, "she just informed you that your parents have died. I wasn't feeling that last run. Cry. I want tears..."

Just as he spoke, the fastening on the light fixture that was hanging above the two actors snapped with an audible 'click'. Harry had just enough time to jump out of the way before the large metal light smashed into the ground- the glass shattering and splintering in every direction.

"Damnit! Not another one!" hissed Alastor. For weeks the equipment that had been supplied by Voldemort Metal and Electronics had been breaking down. Just the other day the video camera that was being used to film Harry running away fell off the tripod and they had to re-shoot all the scenes of the day.

"Yes, another one, Alastor!" Harry snapped impatiently. "That's the third light! It almost killed me! I've had enough of this!" His patience was wearing thin. Before Alastor could reply, the seventeen year old walked off the set, proclaiming he was through. "Find me when you get equipment that won't try to kill me! I swear that Voldemort place is evil!"

From the corner of his eye, he caught the frustrated and extremely pissed expression of the elder man given the job of directing his latest movie. Combined with his chunked nose (due to a horribly botched plastic surgery job) and his always-wild grey hair, Alastor gave off the impression of a mad man.

Harry chuckled faintly to himself, wondering just how long this one would last. Though, to Alastor's credit, he somehow managed to put up with all of Harry's teenage bullshit and lasted at least three times longer than any other director he had worked with since he was twelve. It seemed Alastor was used to Harry's now weekly explosions and took them in stride.

The bastard...

Harry sighed as he entered his rococo trailer, automatically wincing as the heat spewed out into the humid July air. He took a few seconds to let his room cool before stepping in and instantly flopping down on the bed. Schoolwork from his private tutor lay sprawled out, half completed; completely half-assed. He just couldn't find the urge or energy to do a better job at it.

Turning to the script that lay at his bed, he flipped it open, trying to recall exactly why he had decided to take this role as opposed to going to college, like he and Remus had planned. "Harry Potter," he read aloud, mostly to himself to keep the melancholy away, "playing to the role of Zachary Ghosts. Cho Chang playing the role of Bianca Xion, girlfriend to Zachary Ghosts."

God, how he detested that girl. She was vapid and vain, self-absorbed and absolutely gorgeous. The problem was she knew everyone was looking and she never ceased to disappoint.

He quickly read some of his costars' names aloud, making mental comments on each of them. There was not a single person he enjoyed being around. Mostly because everyone was so much older than he was. Besides Cho, the youngest person on set was his manager and best friend, Remus Lupin. But that wasn't saying much, considering Remus was in his early thirties.

"Ah, and my two personal favorite actors," he quipped sardonically, "playing the role of Skylar Ghosts, godfather to Zachary Ghosts and Nicholas Carrington, undercover cop posing as a teacher to Zachary Ghosts, T.B.A!"

For the life of him, Harry couldn't understand how Alastor had let that happen. They were almost two months into filming the movie and they still hadn't cast the two most important characters in the film. The press, (most especially the Daily Prophet's gossip columnist, Rita Skeeter) had been all over the event, saying the movie was in desperate trouble and it would never make its release date. Major companies had been sponsoring the movie, due to the fact it was considered to be a sweeper at the Oscars.

Harry could understand why as well. The scrip was phenomenal. The second he had read it; he knew he wanted the part and Alastor had been more than happy to give it to him. But now, everyone was getting frustrated. Without Skylar and Nicholas, they couldn't do much. They were currently filming all the scenes without the two in them and they were drawing to a close.

"This is so stupid," the raven-haired boy mumbled into his hands as he pulled up a pillow, burying his face in it.

"I'm forced to agree," a familiar and soothing voice spoke out. Harry smiled to himself as his bed lowered a little, indicating Remus had sat down next to him. "Walking off set again, Harry? You're going to give Alastor a heat attack one of these days!"

Harry rolled over, his incredibly handsome face pulled into a childish pout. "It's just frustrating. I'm sick and fucking-"

"Language," Remus absently reprimanded

"-tiered of this set! I want to get out! I want to go out and enjoy myself a little. I've been stuck here for the last Goddamn-"

"Language."

"-month, Remus!" he found himself whining a tad, but didn't care to stop.

"Well, to be fair, I've been here way longer than you have and I'm not complaining," the older man calmly stated, tucking a piece of his chocolate brown hair behind his ear. Eyes that sparkled gold winked at him, as Harry felt his face pull into a smile.

He had no idea how Remus managed to do it, but just one smile of the devastatingly gorgeous brunette seemed to make his problems melt away in a blissful puddle of nonexistence. He supposed it was a natural ability, something you don't question but just let happen. Harry opened one eye hesitantly, noticing the rather pleased expression painted on Remus' face.

His curiosity was naturally piqued.

"What?"

"I know something you don't know..." Harry's longtime manager chided in a singsong voice, as he made himself comfortable, laying down right next to the teenager. Emerald eyes narrowed as a sharp poke was delivered to Remus' unsuspecting ribs. The older man made a squeak of annoyance.

"Little prick..."

"Old bloke..."

"Fine, so I won't tell you who they've cast as Nicholas Carrington."

Remus knew he had said the magic words as Harry jumped up, excitement racing through his veins like poison as it burned every nerve in his body. "Who!?Who?!"

Remus laughed, his caramel smooth voice ringing sweetly. "Well, I know how much you love guessing games-"

"I hate guessing games."

"-so let's play one," he continued as if Harry hadn't opened his mouth. "Clue number one, he's been on the American Film Institutions' top ten actors list for the past ten years-"

"NO!" Harry almost screamed, his heart palpitating rapidly in his chest. He swore that it was about to break one of his ribs from the sheer momentum the organ held.

"Well now, Harry, you really must let me finish a sentence," Remus scolded half-heartedly, knowing perfectly well how the news would affect his client.

"You're lying- you must be lying! Alastor got Severus Snape to play Nicholas! The Severus Snape?"

"The one and only. He'll be arriving here next month. He's in Paris completing a photo shoot at the present moment..."

But the rest of what was being said was completely lost to Harry. Severus Snape, his favorite actor, his idol was going to be in the same movie as him! He just couldn't twist his mind around that.

"Harry, you're looking a little peaky," the brunette smirked, "maybe you should start breathing again. For some odd reason, the body seems to like oxygen."

"Remus..." he stopped right there, unable to properly express the feeling that was coursing inside him. 'Overwhelming joy, yes, exhilaration, definitely.' Under all the happiness though, was a faint sense of fear, a fear that he would make a fool of himself in front of the actor he worshipped religiously.

He was, after all, terribly clumsy. There wasn't a day that went by that Remus didn't make fun of his ability, or as the elder brunette smugly quipped, inability to walk in a straight line without falling, bumping or tripping into some inanimate object.

Their relationship was a special one. There was not a day when one didn't make the other laugh with their constant teasing and nagging ("Honestly, Remy! You nag more than Dursley's fat son eats! He's the size of a whale from what I hear."). Remus Lupin was everything in a friend Harry could ask for and more. As a friend, it was Remus' natural duty to encourage, back him up, and be there for him, always. Remus was a muffin.

He always took time out of his busy schedule to watch his young client and honorary family member play soccer. On a soccer field Harry was unstoppable. It never ceased to amaze him that he couldn't put one foot in front of the other without making a total idiot of himself, yet put him on a soccer field, with a ball at his feet no less, and he was grace personified.

Or sex on legs.

"Though, there is some bad news. Johnny Depp turned down the role of Skylar Ghosts. Apparently Jerry Bruckheimer got to him first and he's filming this new Disney flick: Pirates of the Coconut Shell or something along those lines. So once again we're without our main actor."

"Severus Snape is playing Nicholas Carrington!" Harry exclaimed, allowing the information to sink in pleasantly, completely ignoring Remus and oblivious to the fact that they had no lead actor.

"Now really Harry, I thought we had already established that fact..."

"Shove off, you!" Harry laughed despite himself, pushing his manager playfully.

"Oh, remember a year ago you applied to Hogwarts, the boarding school up in Edinburgh, Scotland? You got the letter yesterday. I tried to find you earlier to tell you, but I was in a conference with Alastor and some writers." As he said this, he handed Harry a heavy letter in a classic yellowish parchment envelope. His name was written in deep emerald ink and the school's seal (a coat of arms bearing a lion, eagle, badger and snake surrounding a large 'H') was firmly stamped on the back in a deep violet wax. It looked almost regal.

"Why were you at a meeting with them of all people?" he asked, carefully breaking apart the seal, taking the aged parchment letter out.

"Well, I have been in this business a while and they wanted to ask my opinion of something before they made the final call."

Harry wasn't paying attention again. His eyes were fastened on the letter, devouring the elegance, taking in the antique and beautifully written calligraphy. He had read so many articles on Hogwarts. It was the best school in all of England and Scotland. He had wanted to go ever since he was eleven, eligible for schooling there.

Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore

(Order of Queen Elizabeth, First Class, Chf. Advisor, Supreme Consultant, International Confed. Of Headmasters)

Dear Mr. Potter,

We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.

Term begins on September 1. We await your response by no later than July 31.

Yours sincerely,

Minerva McGonagall

Deputy Headmistress

"Oh shit!" Harry exclaimed loudly. "Remus, that's today!"

"Well, I suggest you figure out if you want to go or not and write to them quickly. We can Fed-Ex it there in less than 12 hours."

"Remus!" he moaned, shifting a little on the bed. He had two options. Go or not go. It sounded simple enough in his head, but he wasn't sure if scheduling would allow him to go.

"You're thinking too much Harry," Remus fixed his piercing gold orbs on Harry's own bottle green ones. "Do you want to go, yes or no?"

The young boy signed. "I do. I really do."

"Then it's settled! I'll write up your acceptance letter and have it off by tomorrow. I'll have a talk with Alastor. To keep him from throttling you and such."

"Thanks Remus," Harry smiled softly, a ghost of what it used to be when he was younger, yet nevertheless a beautiful smile. "You never did tell me why Alastor and the writers wanted to talk to you, you know."

"Hmm," the handsome man grinned broadly as his shaggy main of silver streaked hair tumbled across his eyes. "Well, as you know we were missing some very important characters for our little story here. They wanted to know what I thought."

"And what did you think?" Harry retorted in the same chiding voice Remus was giving him, keeping the laugh off his lips. The elder man stretched once, his cat like grace never ceasing to amaze Harry. At drop dead gorgeous, utterly brilliant (a PhD in philosophy), witty, and the most astonishing person Harry had ever had the pleasure of encountering, it was a modern mystery as to why Remus J. Lupin was still single.

"Well, I subtly suggested they give a certain undercover cop and teacher a call since I had already managed to persuade a certain idolized and talented actor into taking the role."

Harry's eyes widened. His body trembled as he flung himself into Remus' arms, encircling him in a bone-crushing hug. "I don't know what to say..." he started, the love he held for the person he considered the closest thing to a father he would ever have, tripling.

A gentle laugh echoed in the cramped and overheated room as fingers gently pushed midnight black hair away from brilliant green eyes. Remus truly did love Harry like a son. "I'm just glad you're happy."

He stood as soon as he had finished speaking and opened the door. He looked back at Harry, his heart swelling with pride. "Oh and by the way Harry, happy birthday."

* * *

Harry rarely dreamed. Most of his nights were dark, blank and so very blissful. Unfortunately, when he did dream, it always turned out to be a nightmare and it always ended with a blinding flash of green light. His nightmares were full of abstract images, probably from long ago; always rolling on and on like a silent film. He wouldn't be surprised if they started to roll in black and white. They were always so horrible.

Harry smiled and bit into his breakfast pizza. Oh well, at least he didn't have one last night.

"Mmm. Say Remus, what's the schedule for today?" he licked his lips and looked across the small table where his manager sat, glancing through the Sunday newspaper: the usual Sunday routine.

He cocked his head to the side, gazing at Remus' handsome face as his managers' gold eyes darted across the newspaper. He could only see the headline of an article on the back page of the Arts and Entertainment section from where he sat, "Tragedy Strikes Set Again", no doubt written by that horrid reporter, Rita Skeeter.

She somehow always managed to dig up all the dirty little secrets and cover-ups that the PR people took care of on set. Just last week there had been this long article on him and Cho, claiming they were in a love triangle with Viktor Krum, a Bulgarian soccer player that Harry trained with weekly.

"We need to get you measured for your uniform," Remus spoke, his eyes finally leaving the paper. Harry was beginning to wonder if he was looking for anything at all.

Harry blinked, taken by surprise at his answer. "Uniform?" Then he remembered the letter from two days ago. The excitement. "Hogwarts, right."

Remus gave him an amused look. "We'll be going to Madam Malkin's later, as soon as you're done actually. It's the only shop in Britain that actually supplies the Hogwarts' uniform."

Harry hummed thoughtfully before stuffing the last bit of pizza into his mouth. Light from the trailer's window reflected off his wristwatch (also made by Voldemort Metal and Electronics. It broke down last year; he only wore it out of habit) as he wiped his mouth with a napkin.

"That's strange. Why's it that there's only one shop? With Hogwarts being a very famous school and all."

Remus' lips curled into a smirk and he folded up his paper. "You'll find, Harry, that Hogwarts is a very strange place in itself. Naturally all places associated with it would be just as, if not stranger."

Harry felt his jaw drop. "No way! Don't tell me you've went to Hogwarts!" he sprang up from his seat, leaning over to his manager. "How come I never knew? Why didn't you tell me?" Remus smiled and opened his mouth. "And don't you throw that you-never-asked crap on me, Remy!"

Remus threw his head back and laughed, "Alright, alright. Well, let's just say I had my reasons, okay?"

Knowing it was silly but he didn't care either way, Harry pouted, making the older man reach over and ruffle his hair. Harry swapped his hand away, jutting his jaw out defiantly.

"By the end of the school year, I'll have figured it out anyways. So nyah!" he picked up his orange juice and gulped the rest of its contents swiftly.

"Don't stick that tongue out at me unless you're planning on using it."

Harry choked. "Remus- Lupin" -cough- "y-you- unholy- bastard!" gasping, he glared at the smirking man. "I nearly had a heart attack right there! What's up with that? You're usually not one to make such a 'kinky' comment. Remember? Your role is the sensible one!"

Remus' smirk turned into a slight, sad frown. "Well, love, when you spend a lot of time with someone, you tend to inherit their traits..."

Sensing a touchy subject, Harry immediately dropped it and pick up another one. "I thought we were going to get my uniform. Memory loss is a bad quality to develop at such a young age, Remy," he teased casually.

He was reasonably hit in the face with Sunday's paper.

It was after a light playful brawl that they were finally settled in the SUV and on the road to Diagon Alley; the place that Remus had insisted was the only area in London that supplied school supplies for Hogwarts. It was a rather eventful ride. Harry had fretted over his "Disney's A Goofy Movie Soundtrack" and argued that they listen to his favorite track ("On the Open Road") claiming that it was a perfect song to listen to considering their current position.

Remus protested immediately, stating that David Bowie's "Modern Love" was a much better choice and was very adamant about it, saying that he should get to choose since he was the one driving. That caused Harry to point out the fact that Remus wouldn't let him drive even though he was perfectly qualified to, making Remus point out the fact that it was all for Harry's protection and safety since he was a horrible driver.

"Look what happened to Princess Diana!" he reasoned. "We couldn't let that happen to you!"

"Remus, she wasn't even driving the thing!"

"But that's not the point!"

Sorry to say, when the reached the shop, neither of them had actually gotten a chance to listen to their song. They were too busy arguing.

Madam Malkin's Fashion for All Occasions was a small shop, but no matter how small it was still seemed very exclusive. Madam Malkin herself was a squat woman, all smiling and dressed in a simple mauve dress.

She greeted him herself when he came in; Remus wanted to make a pitch stop at Gringotts, the local bank. "Welcome, dear. For Hogwarts, are you? Lord knows you don't need any fashion adjustments dressed in that." She laughed lightly, glancing at his tight white jeans and equally tight black shirt, the platinum plaited necklace, custom-made sunglasses, hiking boots, and messy but sexy raven-head. "Very fashionable choice of dressing."

"Thanks and yes, I'm here for a Hogwarts uniform," said Harry, grinning.

"Come along then, dear. There's another young man being measured at the back right now."

Harry followed her as she walked to the back of the shop. He glanced leisurely around the incredibly tidy yet small shop, before his eyes caught sight of a very handsome pale blond and blue haired boy. An assistant was pinning up what looked similar to a robe, though it was obviously a cloak of some sort.

Remus was right; Hogwarts was a strange school indeed if those were a part of the uniform.

Madam Malkin steered him next to the taller boy and quickly took his measurements. "Arms out," she pulled out a measuring tape from her pocket and began measuring with speed that would put Fleur Delacour (Harry's personal designer and famous model) to shame. It only took a moment before she was done and Harry stood in a slightly loose robe, while she started pinning to the right length.

The pale boy turned his head and looked Harry from head to toe. "Hello there."

"Hey. You're going to Hogwarts too?" asked Harry.

"Yes," the pale boy stated as if he were bored. As Harry noticed at once, he was even more handsome and gorgeous up close. His white-blond hair that was dyed an electric blue fell gracefully to his shoulder and he had the most striking grey eyes Harry had ever seen. He gave the impression of a ruffian, only more elegant. As said boy in question tucked back a piece of blue hair, Harry noticed the impressive piercings that adorned his ears. Definitely a doughnut.

As for the matters of Muffins and Doughnut, Harry went with the simple philosophy set by the great Jennifer Crusie. There are two kinds of men in the world: doughnuts and muffins.

Doughnuts: studmuffins that make you drool and you absolutely must have them. But you can't keep them overnight because then the icing (or what's left of it; half of it will be stuck to the bag) will be all icky and they will be crispy no longer. You don't want a doughnut.

Muffins: plain and lumpy, they just sit there with nothing special about them. But unlike a doughnut, a muffin is actually better the next day. They stay with you for as long as you want and they always taste good despite their looks or lack of frosting. They're not to die for, but you still want then after that one night. You want a muffin in your life.

By the way things looked, that grey-eyed boy next to Harry practically had the word 'doughnut' stamped on his forehead.

"My parents are picking up my supplies as we speak," he said in a drawling voice. He didn't seem very interested in anything, though he sounded a little less bored when he said the next sentence. "There's a wicked mechanic shop near here, the Voldemort's Outlet. I plan on dragging my parents there. I need new parts for my motorcycle. I don't see why they banned them on Hogwarts' campus. I'll have to smuggle it in then. Have you got your own motorcycle?" he gave Harry a side-glance. His eyes glittered with a dark spark.

Harry shivered, but couldn't suppress his mounting dislike for the boy. 'What. A. Brat,' he thought mentally.

"Well, do you?" the voice was aggravated, as if he hated to repeat himself. Harry's emerald eyes narrowed.

"No."

The blond raise one eyebrow mockingly, a haughty expression on his face. "Do you even have a car of your own?"

"No," Harry replied again in the same cool voice. That was a bit of a lie. He actually did have his own car. He had many, in fact. He just couldn't drive them.

"How pathetic," the boy smirked, "I have my own car and my motorcycle. I'll ask the head of my house to make an exception and let me keep my motorcycle. It's a crime if I can't have it with me. Durmstrang lets their students. Mother continually tells me I should've gone there instead and I almost agree with her. You're obviously new; do you know which house you'll be in?"

Harry narrowed his brilliant green eyes even more if possible to try and keep the confused look off his face. Houses? "No."

"I'm in Slytherin, of course. Best house there is, my family's been in it for generations," he scoffed. "Much better than those loser Hufflepuffs, trust me." His grey eyes flickered to the front window. "Who in the world is that?"

Harry looked and saw Remus standing there, sipping his mocha latte, looking as striking as ever. He waved and grinned at Harry and Harry smiled warmly at him.

The boy eyed Remus hungrily before turned his gaze back on Harry with renewed interest. "You know him?"

Harry gave him a curt nod. "Yes."

"Well?" demanded the boy, "Who is he?"

"My manager," answered Harry simply, wanting to get rid of the annoying boy.

The boy raised his eyebrow and opened his mouth to ask but Madam Malkin interrupted him. "All done, dear," she slipped the uniform off Harry. "How many of these do you need?"

Harry smiled slightly and said politely, "Five sets is enough, ma'am."

She nodded. "Very well then, pick them up in two days will you?"

Harry nodded, but then remembered she didn't know who he was. "Oh, my name is-"

"No need, I know quite well who you are. Bye, my dear."

Harry nodded stiffly to the boy and left the shop.

"Where to now?"

"Well, we have to pick up all your supplies. Flourish and Blotts for your books, Ollivanders for your computer equipment, since you will need it to takes notes and such, Quality Soccer Supplies so you can pick up a new pair of cleats," Remus stated as he did a mental checklist.

The rest of the day went uneventfully. They ate lunch at a local pub, the Leaky Cauldron and Harry managed to pull Remus into The Magical Menagerie, a pet shop where Harry tried to persuade Remus into buying himself a pet to keep himself company while Harry was away.

Remus flat out told him he would sooner rip off his own arms and beat himself to death (with his feet) before he bought the fluffy ginger kitten Harry pointed out for him.

When Harry and Remus were driving back to where they had the location shoot, Harry was pleasantly sated with his strawberry milkshake from Florean Fortescue's Ice-Cream Parlour and so was Remus with his third mocha latte. Harry asked Remus questions about his future school.

Hogwarts, as he discovered, was divided into four houses. Which house you belong in, depended on how one did on a placement test. It was a sort of personality test from what Remus had described to him.

There were four houses, each named after a founder: Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff and Slytherin. From his avid and lively descriptions of each house, Gryffindor seemed to be the best, while Slytherin, the worst. Remus himself had been in Gryffindor and Harry desperately hoped he was in that house as well.

He also hoped that he and the handsome blond and blue haired boy would never cross paths at Hogwarts again. Ever.

* * *

Harry stared hard into the side mirror and he flicked another random strand of hair into place. Turning the steering wheel slightly left, Remus chuckled. "You do know that every time you fix one strand, a dozen more take its place?"

"Shut up, Remy," he didn't take his eyes of the mirror. "Just 'cause your hair sucks, don't diss mine," he gave himself a once over. "Perfect."

Rolling his eyes, Remus shook his head, "And you say Cho is vain."

Finally tearing his eyes from the mirror, he gave Remus a sour look. "Are you saying I'm vain?" he demanded.

"No, I'm implying that you're vain," Remus chastised in a light voice.

"Screw you."

"At least buy me dinner first Harry."

"Ugh! You old prat! You know I did not mean it like that!" and with that, Harry socked him on the side of his shoulder.

Remus' response was a rich laugh and a one-arm shoulder hug; his other arm obviously busy with steering.

They were headed off to King's Cross, where Platform 9 ¾ and the Hogwarts Express. The Express was a custom train built solely for students going off to and returning from Hogwarts. Ever since Harry had received his letter, a month ago, Remus had been scurrying around town, getting supplies, picking up his uniform and the works, while Harry was packing anything he needed which was almost everything (Remus had to stop him from packing the furniture).

Harry was nervous, but he hid it well; he wasn't a famous actor for nothing, and only Remus knew of how nervous he truly was.

"Relax! Your years at Hogwarts will be the best years of your life. I miss it very much myself."

Harry offered him a small smile and nodded.

Remus had told him stories of how he and his three best friends had made it their life's mission to break every single rule Hogwarts had to offer them. They had called themselves the Marauders: Remus as Moony and his friends as Padfoot, Prongs, and Wormtail. It did sound like they had the time of their lives.

"I still can't believe you were a delinquent, Moony," he smirked, using the new nickname, "That's not like you."

Chuckling, Remus said, "Time changes people Harry. And I always was the careful one of the lot," he shook his head fondly. "Great times, Hogwarts, great times."

He slowed the car down and turned into a parking lot. They had finally arrived at King's Cross. Remus pulled the car to a stop and they got out. Remus got Harry's trunk out from the back as Harry went and retrieved a cart no one was using. Dumping the large trunk on the cart, they wheeled it into the station.

To say the station was crowded was an understatement. It was jammed pack with people. Harry spotted others like himself, with cloak-like uniforms, dragging around large trunks on carts. Harry was lucky he had on his sunglasses. It wouldn't do well for the public to recognize him.

He looked to his right and saw a group of redheaded people pass in a hurry, all dressed in the Hogwarts uniform, except a young girl and who he assumed was her mother.

"-packed with Muggles, of course-" he heard the mother mutter.

"Muggles?" he asked Remus, who was busy getting his ticket out from the trunk.

Remus smiled absently and explained, "It's a rather crude term for people who don't or have never been to Hogwarts or any of the top prep schools like Beauxbatons or Durmstrang."

Harry nodded, albeit slowly. In his mind he was wondering just exactly why they would come up with such a term.

"Right, there's platform nine and three-quarters over there."

Harry looked and saw three platforms, two of which were the same khaki color as the rest of the station, while the one in the middle, Platform 9 ¾ was scarlet. It stood out very much.

They walked toward it, passing through the wrought-iron archway that held the sign Platform Nine and Three-Quarters. If possible, the platform was even more crowded then the station was.

Harry saw that the Hogwarts Express was a scarlet steam engine, its color matching the rest of the platform exactly. The students (they were all in their required black uniform) were talking excitedly. The redheaded family was in front of them.

Harry saw Remus smile broadly and wave to the mother. "Molly!"

The mother looked up from rubbing the end of what looked like her youngest son's nose. She smiled kindly. "Well bless my soul! Remus Lupin! I didn't see you there!"

Her sons and daughter looked towards them. She had four rather strapping sons. The oldest was a rather prim young man; he had a shiny badge that said 'Head Boy' on it, pinned to his robes. The next were a set of twins with a mischievous gleam in their eyes and joking smirk on their handsome faces. Harry noticed that they were identical to the very last freckle. The youngest son had a smudge on his nose. He was tall, almost as tall as the twins and was by far the most handsome of the batch. On top of that, he appeared to be about his age. Harry gave him a brief once over, nodding appreciatively. 'Very nice...'

Their mother seemed to have noticed him and smiled warmly. "And who is this charming young man next to you?"

Remus draped an arm around Harry's shoulder and grinned. "This is my young charge, Harry," he knew by experience not to mention Harry's last name. "Harry, this is Molly Weasley. She's a dear friend of mine from our days at Hogwarts."

Harry smiled politely, shaking her hand. "Pleased to meet you, Mrs. Weasley."

"Same to you, dear."

She reminded him of Madam Malkin.

"These are my children, Harry," she pointed to each one in turn. "Percy, he's head boy you know, Fred-"

"For the love of God woman, for the last time, I'm George!"

"Sorry, George dear."

"Kidding, mum," the twin grinned. "I'm Fred alright."

"Oh, Fred!" Mrs. Weasley scolded. "Well, then, George, Ronald-"

"Ron," the other boy sighed exasperatedly.

"-and Virginia."

"Ginny," said the girl, blushing at Harry.

"All aboard!" a booming voice sliced through the station as children of all ages kissed their parents goodbye and hurriedly entered the shimmering scarlet train.

"See ya mum," one of the twins smiled, lightly kissing her on the cheek as he darted off to the nearest entrance.

"I'm warning you two! If I receive one more letter concerning the two of you and stink bombs in the toilets, I will personally see to it that you are sent home in pieces."

"Oh mum! You worry too much! There's not a stink bomb on us!"

"And besides, that wasn't even us!"

"All Lee's fault," the other nodded sagely. "Besides, the toilets stink enough without any of our help."

"My warning still stands," the plump woman's voice was stern, a true motherly voice. Harry imagined his mother's voice would have sounded exactly the same. The rest of the family boarded the train without a warning from their mother. Harry figured the twins were used to getting in trouble at school. He couldn't help but laugh.

Just as he was about to board, Remus' hand gripped his arm tightly, effectively stopping him.

"Enjoy yourself alright?" he offered a wan sort of smile that made him all the more beautiful in Harry's eyes.

"You know I will," Harry smiled brightly, throwing his arms around Remus' neck. "Just don't have too much fun without me. And don't miss me too much. Wrinkles don't suit you."

They laughed and hugged for a few more moments before Remus reluctantly let go, sighing with pride as he watched Harry climb up the gleaming steps and disappear behind the steel door. The local clock chimed, signaling that it was eleven o'clock exactly. At that precise moment the train took off.

"Well Molly, are you up to catching a coffee with me?" Remus inquired, offering a winning grin to the two standing before him. Ginny blushed an even deeper maroon, burying her head in her mother's side before Molly pleasantly giggled.

"One never could resist you, Remus."

* * *

"Mind if I sit here? Everywhere else is full," a voice snapped Harry back to reality as he blinked. He looked up at the door, noticing it was the teen he had met at King's Cross.

"Go right on ahead; Ron is it?"

"Ya," he smiled amiably. Harry noted he looked even better smiling. "You're new here, aren't you?"

"What gave me away?" Harry chuckled a little as he passed a hand through his untamable hair. He still hadn't decided if Ron was a doughnut or a muffin. So far, he seemed more of a muffin.

"Besides the fact you're all alone in a compartment? Nothing really." Harry had to bit the inside of his mouth to keep from smiling again. "You'll like it at Hogwarts. It's a great place."

"That's what I've heard. Rather anxious about being sorted into a house though. What are you in?"

Ron smiled proudly. "Gryffindor. The whole lot of us are. Even my eldest brothers and parents were in Gryffindor."

"Remus was in Gryffindor too," Harry muttered offhandedly, noticing Ron's eyebrow raise.

"Remus? He that good looking bloke you were standing with?"

The answer to that question remained unanswered, for at that very minute the compartment door flung open and an oddly attractive girl stepped in.

Her long amber hair was as straight as a board, nicely styled on her pretty face. Her school skirt was hiked up a few more inches that would be considered proper and she wore a smirk that exuded smugness.

Harry liked her immediately.

"Well well well, if it isn't Whore-mione Granger," Ron smiled cutely as the girl in question raised an elegant eyebrow. She looked as if for a second she would snap and viciously bite his head off before an unnerving smile rose on her lips.

"Ronald, how good it is to see you again! Tell me, did it take all summer to think of that witty retort?" her voice was polished, intelligent and so very much like Remus' that it made Harry do a double take.

"No, came up with that one all by myself right now," Ron smiled foolishly, looking every bit the bird that got the canary.

Harry expected the girl to scowl, slap Ron, or spit back some comment that was just as nasty. What he didn't expect was to see the girl giggle and drop down into the redheads lap, kissing him lightly on the cheek. For a few more moments they just laughed amongst themselves; the tension from a minute ago forgotten.

Before Harry could really do anything, the girl that was now sprawled out comfortably on Ron's body (much to Harry's dislike) turned her warm hazel eyes on him. For a split second, Harry felt a wave of relief wash over his body for Hermione seemed to have no idea who he was.

Then... "I'm Hermione by the wa- oh my God! You're Harry Potter!" she gaped in astonishment, her amiable eyes widening.

Ron seemed almost as flabbergasted as Hermione did. "Are you really?" he asked in a confused voice that made Harry feel ashamed for withholding his full name. He nodded once, looking down a tad discouraged. Most people stopped talking to him when they found out who he was.

He was never sure if people just assumed because he was an actor that he was either unreachable or would never be interested in talking to someone that wasn't on the Hollywood A-List.

"Bloody brilliant," Ron laughed as Hermione shifted to the seat right beside him. "Wait till I tell Ginny she actually met the Harry Potter. She's going to have a heart attack!" he chuckled mostly to himself as a pleasant smile broke out on his face. "My sister's a huge fan of yours. Never shuts up about you at home."

Despite the fact he had practically grown up under a camera lens, Harry still blushed slightly.

"Wow, you're even better looking off camera," Hermione noted, giving him a rather seductive smile. There was an offer that clung in the air at that statement that Harry would have taken her up on under any other circumstance.

Sadly, he was more interested in the redheaded teenager that was sitting to her left.

But before much else could transpire, the compartment door slid open and two twin redheaded boys stood there grinning like mad. "Do you still have the bag we gave you?" one asked as Ron nodded, reaching into his backpack, grabbing a rather unassuming brown paper lunch bag.

The other twin laughed softly as he turned to Hermione. "I like what you've done with your hair. Exactly how many bottles of hair straightener did you do through?"

Hermione laughed falsely as she stuck up her middle finger, smiling sweetly the entire time.

"Crude, Hermione, very, very crude," the other shook his head mournfully. "We always expect such brilliant retorts from you and this is what you give us. Highly disappointing, don't you agreed, Fred?"

"Immensely disappointing, George."

"Don't you two have a Keeper to go molest?" Hermione grinned back coolly as the elder boys smiled in unison.

"I was just thinkin' the same thing," a new voice entered the cart as arms slipped around Fred and George's waists. It was a boy a little taller than both twins with sandy blonde hair and warm hazel eyes. He was very tan compared to the two people that stood by his sides and was incredibly handsome.

Harry was beginning to wonder if there was something in the water at Hogwarts...

"I thought I heard Hermione's distressed cries," the Scottish boy smiled as he leaned over, planting a soft kiss on both the twin's cheeks.

"Oh Oliver, please take them away!" Hermione sobbed theatrically as she placed a feigned hand on her forehead. "They're being ever so cruel!"

The blonde boy chuckled pleasantly as he shook his head in mock exasperation.

"They'll never change."

"Because you like us just the way we are," Fred smirked as he leaned over, planting a heated kiss on the blonde's lips. Harry sat transfixed on the sight, almost losing all ability to breath.

When the duo reluctantly pulled apart, George chuckled as he leaned in for his kiss, muttering lightly how they had missed him over the summer. It was rather sweet really. Rather sweet and one of the sexiest things Harry had ever seen. He mentally chuckled, wondering how this new face, Oliver, was lucky enough to not only get one of the handsome Weasley twins, but both.

Apparently this was a normal occurrence, for Ron and Hermione both smirked and shook their head, turning back to Harry. "You get used to it. They're always trying to suck each other's lungs out in the common room. And library. And cafeteria. Soccer field," Ron spoke, listing off the places haphazardly. "Pretty much anywhere and everywhere."

"Hey, you're new here," the attractive Scotsman seemed to realize, looking at Harry for the first time as he pried his eyes off the two redheads at his side.

"How kind of you to notice, Oliver," Hermione grinned, biting her lower lip to keep from laughing loudly. "Harry Potter, meet Oliver Wood. Captain of the Gryffindor soccer team."

"Pleasure," Oliver tilted his head in recognition, his hands already occupied. "You play any soccer Potter? We're missing a few players now. If you make Gryffindor come to the tryouts."

"I will," Harry smiled back, already liking the blonde. He couldn't really explain it, but there was this deep feeling of warmth that just seeped through his flesh and warmed him to the core. It was a nice feeling, one he wasn't used to in the cold and uncaring world he had grown up in.

'Familiar...' he thought, 'they're all familiar with each other...' he was once again reminded that he was, indeed, the new person here and he knew nobody, safe for the people now crammed into the compartment. Usually Harry would feel suffocated with so many people in such a closed area, but he couldn't help tapping into that familiar warmth that he was now desperately craving.

The trip to Hogwarts was apparently a very long one. So during the hours they were in the cart, everyone tried to make Harry feel at home. The awe of his celebrity status soon dissolved into a pleasant acknowledgement as the twins regaled him with countless stories of all the chaos they caused to the unsuspecting teachers and school, never once failing to make Harry laugh. His sides were in stitches an hour into the ride.

Oliver excitedly talked for an hour about the soccer team and its peril now that some of the elder players graduated. As Harry quickly discovered, Oliver was not only captain and keeper, but in line to be accepted to play professionally for England when he graduated.

Ron and Hermione filled him in on the teachers and subjects, who not to annoy, which teachers were the most fun, which subjects were boring and most importantly, (as Ron put it) about the activities and clubs. Ron had mentioned that although she didn't look it, Hermione was top in all her classes and was one of the brightest students Hogwarts had. This caused her to blush furiously and mutter something Harry couldn't hear.

It was blatantly obvious they were best friends. Fred and George would get a sharp, yet playful, slap every time one would say anything about her, though Ron got away with nothing more than a laugh. They way they interacted, laughed together, finished each other's thoughts and sentences made Harry envy the fact he hadn't decided to come to Hogwarts sooner.

'Please... please let me end up in Gryffindor,' he begged anyone that would listen as the hours melted away into blissful moments. By the time the food trolley came and went (with each person buying liberal amounts of Every Flavored Beans and Pumpkin Pastries) Harry had felt as if he had know everyone in the compartment his entire life.

There was a sudden jolt in the train that only Harry seemed mildly shocked over. "We're here," Fred and George sighed deeply, removing themselves from their boyfriend's lap. The chattering of approaching students began making itself very clear and soon swarms of black clad figures were making their way to the beginning of the train.

"Firs' years! Firs' years over here! C'mon, follow me," a deep, gruff voice pierced to silence as Harry stepped off the train. He saw what had to be the world's largest man holding up a lantern as young children milled around him shaking nervously.

"That's Hagrid," Ron whispered to Harry. "He's the groundskeeper here. Very nice man." But Ron's voice seemed to be getting smaller and smaller as Harry turned to look behind him.

There, perched atop what had to be a mountain, was a castle, all the light glittering and glowing brightly. Harry was star struck. It was gorgeous, beyond his wildest expectations. It looked exactly like the castles people described in fairy tales though only better because this time it was real.

"You have to follow him. He'll lead you to the Sorting," Hermione added, squeezing Harry's arm encouragingly. "Oh, and welcome to Hogwarts."