My Best Friend Ana / Marauders Era

Chapter Two

Chapter Two

1977, September 1st.

London, England.

"This train is a bastard!" bellowed the bitter dad sitting at the table with his newspaper clutched tightly in his meaty fists. His accent, not Irish, rang through the small kitchen decorated in a pale green and the very popular cream that most kitchens had.

"I'm not asking you to go," said the boy at the table with him, sitting across from him and barely containing his excitement. He was going back to school, to Hogwarts. It was far near impossible for anyone to ruin his mood, and his dad was not about to do such a thing. He was counting down the seconds to eleven o'clock, but he'd be waiting a long time, just short of two hours.

"I tell you," said his mother, an apron around her waist and an Irish accent on her tongue, "magic - they're all magic! Yet we have to find our way down to that bloody station?"

"You both complain about this every year!" exclaimed the boy, a laugh on his tongue and an accent like his mother ringing through the small kitchen. It wasn't their kitchen or their house. It was his cousins' home, and every year at this time they went on holiday leaving the place empty and vacant for his family.

To be sworn to secrecy was a very important thing, and to lie to family was no joke either. His aunt and uncle were told that the boarding school he attended was to discipline him, but his parents did not lie when they told the family that he had to get the train at Kings Cross.

It worked out rather well.

"We are practically ten minutes away from the station!" the boy said, scanning over the list in his hand with all of the supplies he needed for his very last year, "if you don't want to come, you don't have to!"

"You want me to stay here?!" his mother gasped, the rags of ripped up cotton almost falling out her hair. She needed a perm, and this was the way to do it. An old tea towel ripped into strips and tied around her hair to create perfect ringlets, "You want me to stay here whilst you go off for another year?!"

"Obviously not, mum!" he near huffed, forcing himself not to roll his eyes, "but if you're going to be dramatic-"

"Don't argue with your mother!" his dad interjected. He couldn't win, not with his parents finally taking each other's side. It seemed as though they could argue until they were both blue in the face unless he was involved, and then they were both very much on each other's side.

"I'm going to check that I have everything," the boy murmured, having enough of his parents. They were stressed, sad to see him go for another year and letting that anger out by shouting in the morning.

"Tom, you get back here!" shouted his mother, but he ignored her shrill voice and hurried up the stairs. His name was Thomas, Tom for short. It was a rather unfortunate name to have as a wizard muggleborn, he knew all about the history of a certain dark wizard and when he first found out he shared that name he couldn't help his shudders.

Regardless of his name and his mother's frantic shouting, he wasn't going to let it faze him. He was preparing himself for a perfect year. Ignoring the war that he didn't need to care about, he'd be safe behind the castle walls and giving pride to the Hufflepuff quidditch team that played before him as the newly appointed captain.

The title was an honour he held gratefully, and he was not prepared to mess up. This year was going to be the best year of his life and he was not going to let that be ruined in any way, shape or form.

The trunk below his bed had everything he needed. It had been checked four times before the trip from Ireland to London. From then until now it had been checked another three times. Everything was tucked in perfectly. His robes for class, his casual wear for weekends and Hogsmeade - his quidditch uniform and every single textbook he'd need.