The next day found Platform 9¾ packed with wizard families milling around a scarlet steam engine. The Hogwarts Express was spitting steam and huffing its gears in anticipation of its departure.
James Potter had already darted away from his parents and sister, searching for the friends he already knew. He quickly joined up with Frank Longbottom, a boy a year older who had already been sorted into Gryffindor, and together they seemed to be running for the sheer pleasure and excitement, enjoying when the crowd parted for their passing.
Still clutching her father's hand, Branwen craned her neck to observe the rest of the milling throng.
Standing as far as they could from the noise of the train was a family Branwen knew by name and reputation, but with whom the Potters had never associated. (Whenever their name was brought up, she heard her father mutter something about "bleeding racists" under his breath). Mr. and Mrs. Orion Black stood rigid with their noses held slightly aloft as though this were the normal posture to be expected from human beings. A tiny boy, his black hair slicked tight against his head, clung tightly to his mother's hand. Beside him, a taller boy with equally dark hair was eagerly scanning the crowd. His eyes followed James and Frank with a kind of hunger, as though desperate to join them, but not yet brave enough to leave his mother's side.
Speaking with the Blacks was another family with whom Branwen was less familiar. The Malices, or Magons, or Malfoys, or something equally ridiculous. Their only son sauntered nearby, a shining green pin gleaming from his chest; there was no disguising his pride in being a Slytherin Prefect.
Branwen continued to scan the crowd though, realising she was only looking for one student. She spotted a small, pale boy who was positively trembling beside equally nervous parents. Taking them instantly for Muggles, she began to drift in their direction, hoping perhaps they had some knowledge of the boy she sought.
Her eyes still darting around, she managed to miss the luggage at her feet and fell headlong to the floor. She glanced back at the offending object, a soft, shining suitcase of dark leather. On a small gold plaque near the handle was the inscription, R.J. Lupin.
She smiled immediately. Though she wasn't sure what the "J" stood for, she found it unlikely that there was another Lupin with a name beginning in "R" running around. The boy ws still nowhere in sight though, so she made a quick decision. She dug out a, now somewhat squashed, bag of chocolates from her coat pocket. Yanking out the red ribbon from her hair, she threaded it through the handle of the suitcase and secured the bag. Then she threw herself up from the ground and scurried away as fast as she could, ducking behind a soot-stained pillar.
Just as she disappeared from sight, the unmistakeable sound of a father's disapproval cut through the crowd. "Remus! How could you misplace it? Don't you know how much that cost your mother and I?"
"Lyall," a soft voice followed. "It's right here. No need to worry."
Branwen peeked around the corner. Remus was hurrying toward the suitcase. A frail woman clutching a shawl followed close behind. He stopped short a few feet from the suitcase when he spotted the gift attached. His eyes darted around, trying to spot the generous culprit. Before his father caught up with him though, he tugged the package free and stuffed it in his pocket.
"Branwen! Branwen Euphemia Potter, where are you?" Mrs. Potter's voice beckoned her daughter back to her side. She ran over as fast as she could, almost certain she could feel Remus' eyes following the back of her head. Without its ribbon, her long, dark braid, normally the tidy opposite of her brother's messy mane, began to unravel as she ran.
"Say good-bye to your brother, dear."
Without the awkwardness of most siblings, James and Branwen embraced, James placing a quick peck on his sister's cheek. "Bye Bon-Bon! I'll write you at least once a semester!" She waved as he ran and caught up with Frank and jumped aboard the chugging train.
A puff wind gusted through the station, clearing the thick white smoke just in time for Branwen to pick out the last two stragglers scrambling to catch the train. A thin, freckled girl was running along, dragging her trunk, her long red hair billowing behind her.
"Severus! Hurry up! There won't be any compartments left!" the girl shouted.
A scraggly, black-haired boy jogged behind her, curtains of greasy hair obscuring his face. "It won't leave without us, Lily."
Still she waved him on from the train, yanking his trunk up behind hers. "Come on!"
Once the door slid shut behind them, the engine rumbled in earnest and the gears began slipping forward.
With the platform air now swathed in white smoke, it was hard to see any of the other students who had boarded. Branwen tried to push aside her disappointment at not seeing her secret beneficiary one last time.
Still, she trotted down the length of the train until she saw James' head poking out of a compartment window. He waved enthusiastically at his sister. She ran as far and fast as she could, keeping her brother in sight until the train disappeared around a bend.