The platform was magnificent. A scarlet steam engine stood waiting, HOGWARTS EXPRESS emblazoned on its side in gleaming letters. Steam poured from the engine, wreathing the platform in white clouds.
Students and parents crowded the platform, some saying tearful goodbyes, others laughing and greeting friends they hadn't seen all summer.
Trunks and cages and packages were being loaded onto the train. Owls hooted from their cages. A cat yowled somewhere.
"It's a steam engine," Michael said, staring at the train with fascination.
"It's probably magic," Yara replied, watching steam curl impossibly upward in spirals that defied natural physics.
James turned to his parents. This was the goodbye he'd been both anticipating and dreading.
Yara pulled him into a fierce hug, and he felt her shoulders shake slightly. "Be safe," she whispered. "Write to us. Every week, promise me."
"I will," he promised, hugging her back.
Michael wrapped his arms around both of them, and for a long moment, they stood together on the magical platform.
When they finally pulled apart, Yara's eyes were damp, though she was smiling. Michael kissed the top of James's head.
"Make us proud," his father said. "Though you already have."
"Go on," Yara said, wiping her eyes. "Don't miss the train."
James picked up his school bag and walked toward the Hogwarts Express, turning back once to wave. His parents waved back, Michael with his arm wrapped around Yara, who was crying openly now but still smiling.
He really had won the lottery in this life. Not with his magic or his memories, but with his parents. He had the best parents.
The train was bustling with activity. Students were lugging trunks through narrow corridors, shouting to friends, claiming compartments. James looked into a dozen compartments before finding one that was empty. He stepped inside, closed the door, and sat down by the window.
Only then did he pull out his miniaturized trunk and tap it with his wand. "Restore."
The trunk expanded to full size, but James immediately levitated it up to the overhead luggage rack rather than letting it remain visible at full size. Several students he'd passed had sneered at his Muggle clothes while he'd been searching for a compartment, and he had no desire to attract additional attention with a trunk that resized itself.
The train's whistle blew, a long, clear note that echoed across the platform. The engine began to chug, steam billowing, and slowly the Hogwarts Express began to move.
James looked out the window and saw his parents. He waved, smiling, and they waved back. His father held his mother close as she wiped at her tears. She hated him going to boarding school, but because it was what he wanted, she'd support him completely.
The train picked up speed, and his parents disappeared from view as they rounded a bend. London spread out around them, and then they were leaving the city behind, heading north toward Scotland and Hogwarts.
James settled back in his seat and pulled out a book from his bag. "Dueling: History and Technique" by Hua Yong, a famous Chinese dueller who specialized in sneaky and surprising attacks that played with his opponents' psyches. He'd found it in one of the second-hand shops.
He'd barely read two pages when the compartment door slid open.
A boy with dark skin entered, and James's eyes immediately went to the enormous tarantula perched on his shoulder. The spider was the size of a dinner plate, its legs moving gently as it adjusted its grip on the boy's robes.
The boy turned and yelled over his shoulder. "Hey, there's space in this one!"
Two identical boys with flaming red hair piled in behind him, both wearing clean but clearly second-hand robes and sporting mischievous grins that suggested trouble followed them wherever they went.
Had to be the Weasley twins.
"Hello, firstie!" one of them said cheerfully.
"Name's Fred Weasley," the other said. "And that's my less attractive twin, George."
"I'm clearly the handsome one," George protested. "You're thinking of our brother Percy."
"Fair point."
The dark-skinned boy with the tarantula grinned. "Lee Jordan. And this is Aragog Junior, named after a friend of a friend." He gestured to the spider, which waved one leg in what might have been a greeting.
"Sorry for barging in," Lee continued, "but we couldn't find space enough for all three of us anywhere else. We wouldn't be having this problem if someone weren't so late." He shot a lighthearted glare at the twins.
"Unavoidable," Fred said, settling into a seat. "Had to finish our project."
"For the good of mankind," George added solemnly.
James smiled slightly. "James Acton. First year. And it's fine, there's plenty of room."
The twins and Lee immediately launched into an animated discussion about some spell they'd been trying to perfect, something involving Filch and his cat. James gathered that Filch was the Hogwarts caretaker and apparently a favorite target for pranks.
He returned to his book, half-listening to their scheming. It was oddly comfortable, their easy banter providing background noise without demanding his participation.
At some point, the twins and Lee departed, announcing their intention to "terrorize the Slytherin Quidditch team."
"Start psychological warfare before term even begins," Fred explained.
"For Gryffindor's honor," George agreed.
James was alone for perhaps ten minutes before the compartment door slammed open again.
A girl with bushy brown hair that exploded from her head like a lion's mane stood in the doorway. She had large front teeth and a bossy expression on her face.
Hermione Granger.
"Has anyone seen a toad? A boy named Neville's lost one."
Behind her stood a round-faced, teary-eyed boy clutching his robes anxiously.
"Haven't seen one," James said. "Sorry."
Hermione's eyes narrowed slightly, assessing him, then she nodded curtly. "If you do see it, let us know. Come on, Neville."
She swept out, Neville trailing behind her like a lost duckling.
James returned to his book, amused despite himself. Hermione was exactly as described in the novels. Brilliant, bossy, and utterly convinced of her own rightness. They'd be in the same year and probably many of the same classes.
The countryside rolled past outside his window. England gave way to wilder terrain as they headed north. Hours passed, marked by the rhythmic sound of the train on tracks and the occasional visit from the trolley witch selling sweets.
As evening approached and the sun began to set, James changed into his Hogwarts robes. Plain black, as required, with the school crest on the chest. He'd just finished when the compartment door opened again.
"Oi, Acton!" Fred stuck his head in. "Mind stepping out for a minute? We need to change as well."
James stood outside with Lee and his tarantula while the twins changed together. Then Lee went in to change while James waited with Fred and George in the corridor.
"So what's your story?" George asked.
"Muggleborn," James said. "New to the wizarding world."
"Brilliant!" Fred's eyes lit up. "Dad would love to meet you. He's fascinated by Muggles. Always asking questions."
"Sometimes creeps people out," George admitted. "He gets really intense about rubber ducks and plugs and whatnot."
"Plugs?" James asked.
"Don't ask," Lee said, emerging from the compartment in his robes. "You'll be there for hours."
They all settled back into the compartment, and the conversation flowed easily. The twins were funny and clever, their minds clearly working on multiple levels at once. They asked James about Muggle technology, about his family, about his expectations for Hogwarts.
James found himself genuinely liking them. They were pranksters, certainly, but not cruel. Their schemes were aimed at pompous authority figures or students who deserved to be taken down a peg, not innocent victims.
"Fair warning," Fred said as the train began to slow. "First years have to swim across the lake. It's tradition."
"Very atmospheric," George added. "Though the giant squid will eat the slow ones."
"Don't worry, only a quarter of students die every year, so your chances of survival are high". Lee "comforted".
The train came to a complete stop at Hogsmeade Station. Students began pouring out onto the platform, their voices echoing in the evening air.
"Leave your trunk," Lee told James. "House elves will take them to your dormitory. They'll be on your bed when you get there."
"If you get there," Fred grinned.
James already knew how the sorting was done and knew the three were pulling his leg, but he thanked them anyway for their "kind" advice.
They made their way to the nearest exit and stepped out into the cool Scottish evening.
It was fully dark now, but the station was lit by lamps hanging from the ceiling. And there, rising above the crowd of students, was a figure that could only be Rubeus Hagrid.
"Firs' years! Firs' years over here!"
Hagrid was massive, easily twice as tall as a normal man and built like a mountain. His wild hair and beard made him look like a friendly bear, and he carried a lamp half the size of Jame's body that cast a warm golden glow.
James made his way toward Hagrid along with the swarm of other first years. They all looked nervous and jittery, whispering to each other, clutching their robes. James felt surprisingly calm compared to the anxiety he'd experienced waiting for his letter. Perhaps because he knew what was coming. Or perhaps because he'd had ten months to prepare.
In the crowd of first years, he spotted a shock of red hair that had to belong to Ron Weasley. James deliberately positioned himself on the opposite side of the group. The further he stayed from the Golden Trio, the better.
"Four to a boat!" Hagrid called, gesturing toward a fleet of small boats waiting at the water's edge. "No more'n four!"
James climbed into a boat with two girls and another boy, all of whom looked terrified. They exchanged quiet hellos but were too nervous to manage much conversation.
The boats began to move on their own, gliding smoothly across the dark water of the lake. It was quiet except for the gentle lap of water against hulls and the occasional whisper from other boats.
"Heads down!" Hagrid called from the leading boat.
They approached a cliff face covered in ivy, ducking as the boats carried them through a curtain of greenery and into a tunnel. The darkness was absolute for a moment, then they emerged.
And there it was.
Hogwarts Castle.
James had seen it in the movies. He'd read descriptions in the books. He'd imagined it a thousand times.
None of it had prepared him for the reality.
The castle rose from the cliff like something out of a fairy tale, impossibly tall, impossibly grand. Towers reached toward the stars, their windows glowing with warm light. Turrets and battlements stretched in every direction. The architecture was a mad mixture of styles, medieval and Gothic, and something magical that defied mundane categorization.
It was enormous. Far larger than the movies had shown. This wasn't a school; it was a fortress, a monument to a thousand years of magical skill and education.
The boats drifted closer, and James could see more details. Flying buttresses and gargoyles. Stained glass windows that seemed to move. Staircases that connected towers at impossible angles.
"Merlin," one of the girls in his boat whispered.
James couldn't find words. He simply stared, drinking in every detail, committing it all to his memory so he'd never forget this first glimpse.
The boats reached a small dock carved into the cliff beneath the castle. Students climbed out, some more steadily than others. One boy had fallen into the water during the crossing, and Hagrid wrapped him in an enormous towel that engulfed him completely.
"Thank you," the boy stammered, his teeth chattering.
"No problem," Hagrid said kindly. "Happens every year. C'mon now, up we go!"
They climbed a stone staircase carved into the cliff face, emerging into a small courtyard. Lamps hung from iron brackets, casting dancing shadows on ancient stone walls.
From another corridor that joined the courtyard, a familiar figure approached.
Professor Minerva McGonagall swept toward them in her emerald robes, her pointed hat adding to her already impressive height. Her expression was stern but not unkind as she surveyed the group of first years.
"Thank you, Hagrid. I'll take them from here."
"Good luck," Hagrid said, giving the first years an encouraging smile before disappearing back toward the boats.
McGonagall's sharp eyes swept over the assembled students, and James felt that same penetrating gaze from his first meeting with her.
"Welcome to Hogwarts," she said, her Scottish accent crisp and clear. "In a few moments, you will pass through these doors and join your classmates in the Great Hall. But before you take your seats, you must be sorted into your houses."
She explained the house system: Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin.
How the houses would be like family.
How good behavior earned points and rule-breaking lost them.
How the house with the most points would win the House Cup.
"The Sorting Ceremony will take place in front of the entire school. I suggest you all smarten yourselves up as best you can."
Her eyes lingered on a few students whose robes were askew or whose hair was particularly wild. Several students immediately began smoothing their clothes and patting their hair.
"Wait here," McGonagall said. "I will return when we are ready for you."
She disappeared through a set of enormous wooden doors, leaving the first years alone in the courtyard.
The nervous chatter increased immediately. Students speculated about the sorting, about what it would involve, about which house they hoped to be in.
James stood quietly, his mind already racing ahead to what came next. He didn't particularly care where he was sorted into as long as it wasn't Slytherin. He would prefer Ravenclaw as that was where he felt he fit best, but he was willing to follow the lead of the Sorting Hat.
He touched his wand through his robes, feeling its reassuring weight against his forearm in its holster.
He was ready.
The doors opened, and Professor McGonagall stood framed in golden light from the great hall.
"Follow me," she said.