Author's Note: This is my first ever fan fic. At least, the first I've posted, so bear with me as I attempt to get accustomed and comfortable with this entire process!
Disclaimer: Sadly, I must inform you that I did not invent anyof the characters you are familiar with, and that they belong to that wonderful genius, JK Rowling, whose imagination conjured the realm of Harry Potter.
Chapter 1 - The Horse
"So, then, you'll be back when?" a tousled black haired boy stood on a platform surrounded by students anxiously scrambling around, trying desperately to find their parents. Amidst the screaming, pushing, and last minute farewells, he and three other boys had managed to secure a spot straight out of the Hogwarts Express last door. The boy pushed his round glasses up his long nose.
"Around mid-August," replied the other dark haired boy, although his tresses were not as wild as the boy whom he was addressing.
"So everything's settled then. Prongs and Wormtail go home, Padfoot's coming with me for almost all the holidays. We'll check in every third, tenth, eighteenth and twenty-seventh of July and August. Sirius and I will then come back and everyone meets up at Prongs' house on the twenty six. Got that Wormtail?" The sandy-haired boy spoke deliberately to ensure each person involved's full comprehension of their foolproof plan on how to spend the summer in the most productive form.
"Yeah, sure – third, tenth, eighteenth and twenty-seventh we mirror each other, and we're at James' for the twenty sixth of August. Got it." The bubbly blond boy's cheeks flushed. Or was it the fourth…
"Right," said the first black haired boy the group referred to as Prongs as he pushed his sliding glasses back up his nose as he lowered himself to pick up his trunk, "I best be going. Mum's over there and she's about to spot me." He passed a hand through his hair and slapped the other dark-haired boy on the back. "Have fun mates, will see ya soon enough!" He called behind him as he trudged his way along to his mother.
"James, honey! I didn't see you coming! Was worried sick about you!" she exclaimed as she wrapped her lanky arms around her son. "Thought you'd missed the train or something."
"Mum," James leaned over and hugged her awkwardly, nervous that he'd hear his mates cat calling. "How have you been?" He smiled as he pulled a lock of white hair away from her chocolate brown eyes. He heard something of a ruckus behind him and thought to make nothing of it, until his mother's eyes grew wide in astonishment and fury. He turned to look at what his mother was staring at.
"I can't believe I'm stuck putting up with your abnormal self now. Ughhh! I swear if that woman wouldn't have died, I would have killed her myself!" A long necked, blond, and explicitly ugly (horse-like) woman was screaming at Evans, the red head he never left alone. "At least it's only for one year. Although I am considering – "
"How DARE you speak to her like that! You ought to be ashamed of yourself." James stomach dropped as he realised his mother was no longer behind him but rather stomping towards Evans and the horse – err – woman.
"Mum!" he made after her, though knew better than to interrupt when she was lecturing.
"Excuse me, did I address you? No, now please, allow yourself to take your – erm – freakish self back to your own business." Wrong, James thought, you're dead. Dead.
Mrs Potter threw her arms angrily into her long emerald robes and drew her wand out, pointing it into the girl's face. "Mum, put it down," James called out to her as the horse faced woman screeched and hid behind Evans.
"James, take that young woman's luggage and bring it to the portkey." She spoke without flinching her glare at that ugly woman. "YOU," she spat, "best apologize to me and this young lady for being such a miserable Muggle," The woman made no move, hardly breathed. The fury in the old lady's eyes turned into sympathy as she replaced her wand into her robe pockets and extended a wobbly arm (which hadn't been so wobbly when pointed at the rude woman) around the green eyed, somewhat surprised Evans. "I'll take your silence as an apology, now, please," she ushered Evans towards the place James had piled up his and Evans' trunks and was now sitting quietly on them, "tell me dear, what is your name?"
"That's Lily Evans, Mum." James sighed. His mother glared at him, forcing him to retreat his eyes to the ground. He feigned attention on a passing ant.
"Lily Evans. Well I'm pleased to meet you. I'm Gwendolyn Potter, James' mom."
"P-Pleased to meet you Mrs Potter, but you really shouldn't have – "
"Nonsense, Lily. Now, who was that horrid person?" James sighed as the ant disappeared into its ant hole. I wish I had a hole to stick my head into and disappear, he thought.
"Petunia, my sister. I'm staying with her this summer, which I – "
"Nonsense. You'll stay with James and I. We have this immense house with no one to share it with. We'll be honoured to have you spend the summer with us," she spoke over James' choking. "Honey, the portkey," James handed the object over without needing to be told twice.
"Mrs Potter, honestly," Lily began, but was cut off by one of those looks that came from the short, albeit very feisty Mrs Potter.
James stood, handing one of Lily's trunks back over to the girl, and whispered, "You'll learn soon enough that there's no point in arguing with her." He smiled weakly at her. With that, the threesome, an odd look plastered on the younger two members, extended their arms and each touched the shiny brass key James held out. With a sickening pull at their stomachs, they disappeared from platform nine-and-three-quarters.
"Did Evans just go home with Prongs?" asked the one named Padfoot.
"Yes," replied the frail Moony in a very amused-yet-confused manner.
"Hmm, thought so," shrugged the dark haired boy casually.