ᴍɪꜱᴄʜɪᴇꜰ ᴍᴀɴᴀɢᴇᴅ ~ Wolfstar

Year 1- Chapter 1: Hunky Dory

***

The train was late that year.

***

"Why didn't you cut the lad's hair before he left?" Granddad says. "The other kids'll think he's a nancy."

"Shut it, Dad," Mum says. She tugs the trunk off of the trolley with a thunk and pushes the covered basket into Peter's arms. Inside, Tesla yowls.

"Shh, girl," Peter tells her. She hisses.

More anxious than usual (which is saying something when it comes to him), Peter pulls fingers through his fringe. Maybe it is a bit long. "Mum?"

She's digging through her handbag. "I swear, if I forgot me bloody cigarettes..."

"Might fit in with this lot though," Granddad says, looking around the crowded platform with disapproval. "Whole lot of weirdos..."

"Mum?" Peter says again. His voice squeaks a bit, like it always does when he's nervous. At least he isn't stammering yet.

She finds her cigarettes in her coat pocket. She wedges one into the corner of her mouth, lights it with her wand, and puffs on it anxiously. "Yeah?"

He pulls on her sleeve and she crouches down.

"For God's sake, boy," Granddad says, but Mum ignores him.

"What is it, lovey?"

"What if nobody likes me?"

"Don't be silly, I was Muggle-born and I did fine." She checks her watch. "Should be here by now."

"Typical," Granddad grunts. "Drag me bones all the way to London for the damn thing to be late. What you get with these people running things."

Mum rolls her eyes. "Oh aye, and they're all Commies too," she mumbles, sarcastic.

"What was that?"

"Nothing, Dad."

"Look here, lad," Granddad says. "I remember when your mum was here-- lotta freaks round, so you watch yourself. Weirdos and long-hairs overrunning everywhere. Look you don't get in with the wrong crowd."

"Er, yeah," Peter says. Privately, he thinks he'll be lucky if anybody speaks to him at all, weirdos and long-hairs included.

The scream of a whistle cuts the air. The scarlet locomotive swims into view through the crowd, sending up thick clouds of white smoke, and Peter feels his stomach drop to his feet.

Here goes nothing.

Some look must've come over his face, because Mum crouches down again. "You'll be alright, lovey. Just..." She takes a drag of her cigarette, thinking. Finally she says, "Keep your wits about you."

He nods.

***

"One more, one more!" Mum calls. She clicks the camera yet again and there's a poof of green smoke. Mum beams. "My handsome boys!"

"Muuuum."

Dad laughs, tightens his arm around James, and says, "Poor Ami, you've got to be in one."

"Daaaaad."

Leaving the camera levitating in place, Mum scurries over. "Stop your whinging, mere laal." She crowds in on James' other side, squeezing him between her and Dad. "Say 'Quidditch!'"