A Life More Ordinary

Platform Nine and Three Quarters - September 1, 1991

"Is that Harry Potter?"

"It is! And look! It's Sirius Black! You've heard the story, haven't you?"

"He's married to Remus Lupin, you know. My sister and I simply adore his books..."

"Hasn't everybody heard the story of Sirius Black? And that poor boy!"

"Ignore them," Sirius instructed, taking Harry's shoulders and steering him toward the scarlet train.

"It actually looks just like my train set," Harry said, grinning as his gaze travelled down the long train. "Even the smoke looks the same."

"Only the best for my godson," Sirius said; his voice was muffled as he leaned over Harry's trunk, checking that everything was secure.

"Remus bought that for me," Harry reminded his godfather's back. "For my sixth birthday."

"My idea..."

Harry looked to Remus for confirmation, but Remus shook his head, his lips quirked in amusement; Harry grinned.

"Is something the matter with Harry's trunk?" Remus asked Sirius a second later, bending a bit and cutting off Harry's view of the platform.

"Do you think Draco's here?" Harry asked, trying to see around his parents.

"I'm sure he is," Remus answered, righting himself again while Sirius continued to fiddle with the fastenings.

"Where are the Weasleys?"

"They'll be here," Remus assured him as he shrugged at Harry's questioning look for Sirius' back. "They probably had a late start."

"We'd have had a late start as well if we had five children," Sirius said, finally straightening up. "It took forever as it was this morning. Can you imagine if we multiplied this one times five?" he asked as an aside to Remus, hooking a thumb toward Harry.

"Oy!" Harry objected. "It wasn't my fault. You couldn't find your shoe!"

"And you couldn't find your wand," Sirius retorted.

"Which," Remus added with a sudden frown, "we never finished discussing--the reason it wasn't with the rest of your supplies."

"Erm..."

"Trying it out?" Sirius guessed with a small smile. Harry glanced at Remus and judged that he wouldn't launch into a lengthy lecture right here in front of the Hogwarts' Express.

"I was trying a spell Ron's brothers taught us," he admitted.

"Did it work?" Sirius asked with interest.

"Sirius," Remus scolded; on principle, most likely sin it had been Sirius who had taught Harry his first spells and Remus hadn't objected--much anyway.

"Right," Sirius said with a quick nod and a wink. "Very bad form; using your wand outside of Hogwarts, Harry."

Remus shook his head and Harry tried not to smile.

"Harry!"

Harry grinned at the chorused shout.

"We're finally going to Hogwarts!" Ron crowed as he grabbed Harry's arm and pumped it up and down.

"Our baby brother, an ickle firstie," George said in a high-pitched voice.

"Can't believe he actually made it," Fred chimed in.

"Shut it," Ron muttered.

Fred shoved him and then he and his twin clamored to secure their trunks.

"Maybe we should try for a different house," Ron said to Harry, making a face.

"Not be in Gryffindor?" Percy echoed; he frowned down at his little brother. "All of the Weasleys have been in Gryffindor House."

"Don't talk nonsense, Ronnie," Mrs. Weasley said as she brushed invisible dirt off his shoulders. "And of course Harry will be in Gryffindor, what with Lily and James... And Remus and Sirius were in Gryffindor. Don't you want to be with Harry?"

"Yes mum," Ron grumbled.

"Good boy." Mrs. Weasley patted Ron's head and then began waving her hands frantically as one of the twins leaned too far out one of the train car windows and nearly fell out.

"George!" Mrs. Weasley ushered her three remaining children toward the train and Ron had just enough time to roll his eyes before he was out of sight.

"Well," Sirius said, looking as mystified as he usually did after a loud interlude with the Weasleys, "we'd best get your trunk on the train."

Remus flicked his wand and guided the trunk toward a tall man in a fuzzy orange cap. The man nodded briskly and the trunk disappeared.

"Ready Harry?" Remus asked, still holding Hedwig's cage.

"Harry?" Sirius prodded when Harry didn't answer. "What's wrong?"

Harry looked up at his tall godfather, his eyebrows scrunched together. "What if I don't get sorted into Gryffindor?"

"Sirius and I will be proud of you, no matter which House you belong to."

Harry gave a fleeting smile to Remus and resettled his eyes on his godfather. Sirius smiled, those inviting lines crinkling around his eyes. "We will always be proud of you, Harry. Gryffindor or not," he added when Harry didn't relax.

"Even if I was sorted into Slytherin?" Harry whispered. Sirius very rarely talked about his parents or his brother--he didn't like to, but Harry knew that all of them had been in Slytherin and none of them had been very nice to Sirius. And he knew too, that Voldemort had been in Slytherin. No matter that his parents had explained that Slytherin wasn't an evil house, Harry still didn't think he'd much like being in the same dorms where Voldemort had once slept.

Sirius crouched down so that they were eyeball to eyeball; his hands curved around the tops of Harry's arms. "You are my kid, Harry. And no matter what else you are, or what you do, that won't ever change. I won't ever stop being proud of you. Do you understand that?"

Harry nodded jerkily but he still had to ask, "Even if I'm a Slytherin?"

"Yes," Sirius said with a solemn nod, "even if you're a Slytherin."

Harry smiled slowly. Sirius straightened up and then Harry was being squeezed so hard he was afraid his lungs would pop but he squeezed back anyway--for a few seconds before Sirius planted a kiss atop his head. Harry's face flamed; what if someone had seen?

"Sirius," he grumbled as he squirmed away.

His godfather chuckled as he released his hold. "This is another thing that won't change."

Harry made a face. "I'm eleven, you know."

"Are you?" Sirius asked, his dark brows high in mock-surprise. "I had no idea..."

Harry rolled his eyes and turned to Remus. Remus was smiling and he hugged Harry as well, though he wasn't nearly as embarrassing; no kiss.

Harry faced his parents as he stepped back; his stomach was heavy.

"Don't forget to write," Sirius said, nodding a little; his grey eyes were shiny.

"I won't," Harry promised.

"You have your wand?" Remus asked, his voice gruffer than usual; Harry patted his sleeve to make sure. "And your coin purse?"

Harry jingled his full pocket.

Sirius cleared his throat. He pulled a brown-wrapped parcel out of his pocket.

"You got me a gift?"

Sirius shrugged. "It was your dad's..."

Harry swallowed the lump in his throat and pulled the paper off carefully. He stared down at his own reflection, confused.

"It's a two-way mirror," Sirius said; Harry looked up. "I have the other one; you say my name and I'll hear you through mine. Your dad and I used to talk to one another with them when we had detention." Sirius cupped Harry's chin. "If you need anything..."

Harry could only whisper his thanks. And this time, he launched himself at his godfather and hugged him as hard as he could.

"Love you, kiddo," Sirius whispered into his hair.

"Love you too."

His hug for Remus was just as tight.

Sirius' arm circled Remus' waist as Harry climbed the steps into the train, and Harry waved until they were out of sight.

--

"Have you seen a large toad?"

"A what?" Harry asked as he pushed his glasses back up his nose.

"A toad," the bushy-haired girl said with a slight frown. "A boy named Neville lost one."

"We haven't seen any toads."

The girl nodded, but her eyes narrowed a little. "You're Harry Potter, aren't you? I've read about you. My parents took me to the library in Diagon Alley when we went for my supplies and we looked through old copies of the Daily Prophet."

Harry sighed. "Yeah, I'm Harry Potter," he said with a resigned sigh. "This is Ron Weasley," he added for his grumpy-looking friend.

"Hello," the girl said primly. "I'm Hermione Granger. That's a very handsome owl," she added, stepping closer to inspect Hedwig.

"Thanks. My parents gave her to me for my birthday. Her name is Hedwig."

"Oh," said Hermione brightly, "you've already read your copy of History of Magic, then?" Harry nodded and Hermione went right on, "I've read mine as well, of course. All of my school books, actually."

"Bully for you," Ron muttered. Hermione didn't even spare him a glance.

"Sirius Black adopted you in 1985," she said to Harry. "And I assume you mean him, and Remus Lupin when you refer to your parents? Even though Mr. Lupin didn't adopt you."

"I-"

"The papers weren't very clear on that point, though of course they had a full story when your godfather married Mr. Lupin. And someone--I can't remember who at the moment--mentioned that Mr. Lupin adopted you through the Familius ritual so that you're magically bound to him as a father is to a son. Your godfather did as well, even though in legal terms, you were his son already-"

"You sound like an encyclopedia!" Ron finally exploded.

Hermione's brows furrowed as she turned to Ron. "There isn't any need to shout."

"Well, there isn't any need to tell Harry about what you read in a newspaper about his parents," Ron retorted. "They're his parents!"

"I was only trying to clarify what he meant," she sniffed.

"He meant exactly what he said. His parents gave him Hedwig as a present." Ron made a face at her. "What else could he mean?"

"You are rather unpleasant, aren't you?" Hermione said, with a peevish toss of her bushy hair. "It was nice to meet you, Harry," she added and without waiting for an answer, she pivoted around and left them alone.

"Bloody hell," Ron muttered as the door slid closed behind her. "I hope she isn't in Gryffindor!"

Harry didn't answer, feeling a bit muddled after that encounter. He'd never heard anyone talk so fast before.

"So, where's this Malfoy bloke you've been nattering on about for years?" Ron asked, switching gears as easily as ever. "Maybe he didn't make it in." He sounded rather hopeful about that, Harry thought.

"He did; he sent me a post when he got his letter."

"He'll be in Slytherin for sure," Ron said, nodding his head. "My dad told us, remember, that the Malfoys have been in Slytherin for hundreds of years."

"So were Sirius' family," Harry reminded his friend with a frown.

"Well, Sirius is different."

Harry's frown deepened. "You've never even met Draco."

Ron shrugged. "Dad gets that sour look every time he mentions Mr. Malfoy; you know the one. They don't get on."

"Just because his father's a prat, doesn't mean Draco is. And he's not, by the way."

"Yeah, yeah, you always say that," Ron grumbled.

The door slid open again; a black-haired boy stuck his head in. "Have you seen a toad? I've lost mine."

"Neville?" Harry guessed. The boy flushed.

"Erm, yes."

"Nice to meet you, Neville," Harry said, smiling. "I'm Harry and he's Ron. We haven't seen your toad though; sorry."

"My gran's gonna kill me," Neville said miserably. "It was a gift from my uncle. They were all so excited when I got my letter ... because I wasn't a squib and all."

Harry didn't know what to say to that, so he said, "I'm sure your toad will turn up. Someone's bound to find him."

"If they don't step on him first," Ron offered. Neville blanched and ducked out of the compartment.

"Prat," Harry said, shaking his head at Ron.

"I was only trying to help," Ron objected. "Someone might step on it!"

"How would you like it if someone suggested Mo was going to get trampled?"

"Oy!" Ron shielded the striped owl's cage with his arms. "Don't say that in front of him; he's sensitive."

Harry snorted. "He nearly pecked Percy to pieces the other day."

"Because Percy insulted him! Sensitive, like I said."

Harry smirked as Ron stroked the glossy feathers while Mo snapped his beak, either in appreciation or resentment, Harry couldn't tell. The large owl had been a gift from Harry, Sirius and Remus on Ron's eleventh birthday. And while Harry and everybody else learned quickly that the black and cinnamon-striped owl was a rather bad-tempered bird, Ron wouldn't hear a thing against him.

"Come on," Harry said when Ron finished soothing his owl, "let's go help Neville find his toad."

Ron sighed gustily, but he stood up anyway and followed Harry out of the compartment.

--

Neville's toad was discovered in a compartment filled with squeamish Ravenclaw second year girls. One of them--a girl with long dark hair and a very pretty face--knocked Harry over in her haste to get away; he stumbled against another body while Ron and Neville raced after the surprisingly quick toad.

"Well, look who we found," a voice said from over Harry's left ear as a hand steadied him. "If it isn't your best mate, Harry Potter."

Harry pulled himself away from the restraining arm, twisting around as he righted himself. He smiled when he found Draco standing next to a weedy-looking boy with dark hair. "Thanks," he said to the new boy, who simply nodded. "Hi Draco."

"Hello," Draco said with a small smile. He glanced over at the other boy and added, "This is Theodore Nott."

"Hi."

Theodore's scrutiny of Harry was interrupted by a shout from further along the train car, "Harry! We found him!"

The three boys turned to see Ron waving wildly at Harry, with a relieved Neville beside him; clutching Trevor to his chest.

"Briliant!" Harry called back, giving Ron and Neville a thumbs-up. Ron gestured to Neville and with a shy smile, Neville followed Ron back to his compartment.

Still smiling, Harry turned back Draco and Theodore.

"So," Theodore said, his eyes narrowing just a little, "you really are friends with Weasley."

"Ron's my friend, yeah," Harry said, nodding. Theodore's nose wrinkled, just as if he had smelled something funny.

"Well, that's all right when you're kids," he said. "But now that you're at Hogwarts, there will a lot more suitable friends."

Harry glanced between Theodore and Draco. "Nothing wrong with Ron."

Theodore just shook his head. "Come on, Draco," he said, jerking his head toward one of the farther compartments.

"I'll be there in a minute," Draco murmured. Theodore rolled his eyes before he walked away.

"He your friend?" Harry asked quietly as soon as the other boy was out of earshot.

"Our fathers are friends."

"He's a git."

Draco shrugged and the two boys stared at one another.

"You told him I was friends with Ron?" Harry asked after an uncomfortable stretch.

"He asked about you," Draco said, shifting as he spoke. Harry frowned at him.

"Did you tell him Ron's unsuitable?" he asked, feeling a strange tingle in his stomach.

"His father doesn't like the Weasleys either."

"So, is that what the two of you do together?" Harry asked, his eyes narrowing a little. "Talk about how much you hate the Weasleys?"

Draco stuffed his hands into his pockets; he stared at his well-polished shoes. "I don't hate them."

Harry gazed at the top of his friend's blond head, unable to stop a smile at the quiet words. "We're sitting a bit further up," he said. "Want to sit with us? I brought Gobstones."

Draco lifted his head; he glanced uncertainly in the direction Theodore had gone. But then he straightened his shoulders and nodded. Grinning, Harry led the way.

--

Stunned silence.

McGonagall stood in the Great Hall, her fingers over her mouth. From his place behind one of the twins with long black hair, Harry stared at Draco along with everyone else. Draco, whose face was as pale as bone; his lips slack with shock.

And finally, the headmaster cleared his throat from the head table and the hall seemed to come alive again--whispers swept the room and McGonagall unfroze. Harry didn't hear what she said to Draco as she plucked the Hat from his head and motioned him away from the tall stool. Draco stiffened and McGonagall frowned; he shook his head.

"Now, Mr. Malfoy," she said, loudly enough that the waiting first years could hear her. With jerky movements, Draco stepped down from his perch and walked to his new house table. He sat at the very end of one of the long benches, so close to the edge that he looked like he would topple over. The rest of the Gryffindors farther down the table were the only silent ones in the room as they stared at the blond intruder.

"Nott, Theodore," McGonagall said, her voice sharper than it had been all night. Nott approached the stool with trepidation. And when the Hat shouted, "Slytherin!" McGonagall's relieved sigh could be heard across the room. The sorting continued on.

Dumbledore and McGonagall both smiled at Harry when he was called. As soon as the Hat touched his hair, it was already shouting, "Gryffindor!" Harry shared a grin with Ron as he slid off the stool. He fingered the mirror in his pocket as he went to join the other Gryffindors, wondering how soon would be too soon to use it to tell Sirius and Remus the good news.

Harry slid in beside Draco, still beaming. "We're both in Gryffindor," he said excitedly. "Can you believe it?"

Draco turned to face him and Harry's smiled immediately disappeared.

"Are you mad?" Draco demanded. "This is a nightmare!"

Harry stared at him. "Well, I know you thought you'd be in Slytherin, but now we're together-"

"I can't be a Gryffindor," Draco hissed, his grey eyes wild.

"Well, why not?" Harry whispered back, though he had no idea why they should try to hide their conversation. "I'm in Gryffindor."

"No one in my family has ever been in Gryffindor," Draco said, shaking his head furiously. "Through our entire family tree, only Sirius and my aunt's daughter haven't been in Slytherin. And they were both disowned!"

"You're parents aren't going to disown you-"

"How would you know, Harry?" Draco demanded; the spots of pink against his cheeks were spreading. "It's your parents who won't disown you, not mine! I told you; you aren't a proper wizard at all! You don't know anything!"

Draco's voice had risen so that the entire Gryffindor table was staring at them. Stung, Harry turned away. He heard Draco's robes swishing sharply beside him and his silverware clanging loudly against plates and table, but Harry didn't look over at him again.

He turned his head when Ron's name was called, smiling weakly when his best mate joined him with a great plop onto the bench.

"Gryffindor," he crowed with a grin; his brothers all jostled him in their excitement--even Percy. Harry had a hard time joining in. Ron didn't seem to notice, as Dumbledore quickly announced it was time to tuck in. And Ron, as usual, dove into his food as if he hadn't eaten in days.

Across from Harry, Neville was frowning. And next to Neville, Hermione was switching her gaze between Harry and Draco; she looked like she was trying to see inside their heads.

Harry didn't eat anything and after conversations resumed around him, he didn't join in. Neither did Draco.

Feeling altogether glum, Harry wondered what Sirius and Remus were doing. It was nearing what would be his bedtime at home. What would they be doing now that they no longer would sit beside him, either reading to him or listening to him read? Harry bit the inside of his cheek and willed himself not to cry. He was eleven, after all; not five.

His eyes roamed the cavernous room as he tried to distract himself. The Slytherins kept darting glances toward the Gryffindor table, though the other students seemed to have forgotten that Draco apparently didn't belong in Gryffindor House.

Harry smiled at Dumbledore as the old wizard caught his eye. McGonagall gave him a rather stiff nod as his gaze travelled along the table. The new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor was staring at him too--Quirrel, Dumbledore had said.

As Harry's eyes met the professor's, Harry felt an unfamiliar sting blossom in his forehead. Harry's fingers scrubbed at the lightning-shaped scar--the sting erupted and Harry winced. Professor Quirrel's lips quivered and his gaze dropped back to his plate.

The burning sensation faded away and Harry's fingers fell back to the table.

"Are you all right, Harry?"

Harry's head jerked up. Hermione was squinting at him, her head tilted.

"Er, yeah ... headache."

"You should ask one of the prefects for a Headache Potion."

"Right," Harry said. "Thanks."

Hermione nodded and went back to her meal. Harry sneaked another look at Quirrel and found the professor's gaze on him once more. The same burn seared his scar and Harry quickly looked away.

Dumbledore stood up then, announcing the night at its end and encouraging all of them to sing the song of their choice as they went off to bed. Harry smiled at the strangeness in the suggestion; Ron nudged him, rolling his eyes.

He and Harry queued up near the end of the line, only Draco behind them with Percy leading the way out of the great hall and up the enchanted staircase. The other first years--Ron included--were chattering excitedly as they took their first trip up to the third floor and even though Harry knew he was supposed to be excited about everything, he wasn't. He wanted to turn around and see if Draco would talk to him--and he wanted to take out his mirror and see if it really did work.

But he simply trudged along after Ron, and after what seemed like hours, they finally came to a portrait of a lady in a pink dress.

"Caput Draconis," Percy said after a boring speech that Harry only half-listened to. The portrait swung open and Harry followed along with the rest of the boys as Percy directed them toward their dorms. They had to climb all the way to the top floor and as soon as the six first year Gryffindor boys entered the room, they halted.

"Five beds?" Ron said in confusion; he turned around and did a quick head-count. "There are six of us!"

"All of our trunks are here," Seamus pointed out. And there they were; six trunks piled in a corner. And three owls' cages, along with Neville's toad and Dean's cat. Berenices and Mo were glaring at one another.

"What are we going to do, then?" Dean said, glancing around at the other boys.

"Flip for it?" Seamus suggested, but Draco was already walking toward the bed farthest into the corner of the room. He grabbed Berenices' cage and threw himself on the mattress. He drew the curtains with several jerky tugs until he and his owl were concealed.

The other boys stared at the maroon and gold curtains.

"I could sleep on the floor," Neville said in a small voice. Seamus and Dean shrugged and went toward their respective trunks.

"You sure?" Ron asked Neville.

"You can't sleep on the floor," Harry objected when the other boy began to nod.

"We could each give him a pillow. He can make a bed-"

Harry shoved his friends' shoulder and Ron shut up. "I'll sleep in the common room," he said to Neville. "There are sofas down there."

"I don't think you'll be very comfortable," Neville said with a frown. "I could sleep there-"

"I don't mind," Harry assured him. He'd rather sleep in a bed, of course. But if one of them had to take the sofa, might as well be him.

"You sure, Harry?"

"Yeah," Harry said with a shrug.

Ron patted Neville's shoulder. "You can give him one of your pillows," he said.

Harry rolled his eyes. "You could give me one too, you know."

"Right," Ron said, smiling sheepishly. A pillow was tossed at Harry's head a moment later.

"Thanks loads," Harry grumbled to his friend. "I really don't mind, Neville," he said since Neville was standing in front of the only empty bed, looking very worried. "It's only one night; we'll tell McGonagall in the morning and I'm sure she'll fix it." Neville smiled a little and Harry bent down to search through his trunk for a pair of pajamas.

--

Sirius leaned against the doorframe, staring at Harry's empty bed. For the past six and a half years, he'd come in here every night and tucked his godson into bed. He'd never missed it--not once. And now, it was nine-thirty and he had nothing to do. With a heavy sigh, Sirius went into the room and slumped onto the quilt.

Six and half years, and now, the majority of Harry's year would be spent elsewhere.

No longer the small, wary child who had needed him so desperately, Harry would in essence, be raised by his teachers. Not that Sirius didn't think they could do the job well enough; most of them had, after all, performed the same function for him. But even if they could take care of Harry, Sirius didn't want them to.

It was his job.

"Seems empty here without him, doesn't it?"

Sirius looked up; Remus was standing in the doorway, looking nearly as gloomy as Sirius felt.

"He's only eleven," Sirius said quietly. Remus sat down beside him and took his hand.

"He'll be all right," Remus told him gently, but Sirius shook his head.

"It's me I'm concerned with. I wasn't ready to let him go."