July 1st found a reversal of the September scene on Platform 9¾. Parents milled together, exchanging gossip with those they hadn't seen in nearly a year. Some of the younger children, like Branwen, not yet old enough for Hogwarts, ran about, standing on tiptoe to see who could be the first to spot the scarlet engine.
A clear, shrill whistle heralded the students' return. It was followed by a cloud of steam blowing down the tracks, and finally the train itself drew to a creaking, groaning halt.
"Mum!" James was one of the first off the train. Though now a slightly taller twelve year old (with slightly longer hair), he was still as anxious as ever to greet his family. He and Branwen nearly threw themselves to the ground as they embraced with the energy and power of professional wrestlers. "Branwen, come on!" He untangled himself and dragged her toward the train. "These are my friends I wrote you about."
Standing in front of them was tall black-haired Sirius, short, plump Peter, and of course, Remus Lupin. The flush that bloomed on his face highlighted a new white scar just below his jaw.
"It's nice to meet you. James has told me so much about you." Branwen glanced at her brother, expecting him to nudge the conversation on, but his hazel eyes were fixed on a point over the shoulders of his friends. Sirius followed his gaze.
"Oh!" He grinned and rolled his eyes when he saw the red-headed girl. "That's Lily Evans. Your big brother fancies her."
"I do not!" James spat it out like a knee-jerk reaction.
"Is she nice?" Branwen tried to catch a better look without staring too much.
"Kind of," Peter piped up. "She's in Gryffindor too, but she doesn't really like us. She always hangs out with that gross Slytherin kid, Severus."
Branwen squinted as she watched Lily and Severus scurry toward a handsome couple standing with their tall, skinny daughter. Lily's family, judging by the woman's sleek red hair and the man's sparkling green eyes.
"Well!" Mr. Potter clapped a thick hand on his son's shoulder and smiled at the other three boys, "seems we sent one away and got four back! You boys joining us for the summer? Always plenty of room at the Potter home."
James tugged on his father's sleeve, "Mum said they could stay over the week before next term. If it's okay with their parents."
"I know it'll be fine with mine," Peter was nearly hopping from foot to foot. "Magic makes my mum and dad kind of uncomfortable. They'll be happy to skip any time in Diagon Alley."
"Good, good!" Mr. Potter smiled. "And what about you boys?"
Sirius was peering through untidy bangs toward his mother who was watching his interaction with the Potters with a stiff lip. "I'll have to speak with my mother, sir."
"And you, Remus?" It was Branwen who asked this time.
He glanced toward his mother as well, but then looked down at the small watch on his wrist. "I'll, I'll have to check. But I would like it very much." When he looked up, he grinned at Branwen who, unaware she'd been staring, smiled back.
July and August saw a flurry of owls and letters arrive at the Potter household. First came two letters from Hogwarts, a second year supply list for Mr. J. Potter, Second Bedroom on the Left, Potter House, London, and a welcome letter and first year list for Miss B. Potter, Second Bedroom on the Right, Potter House, London.
These were followed a day later by a note from Mrs. Pettigrew, on flowery Muggle stationary. A stamp had evidently been placed in the corner, then scratched off when it was remembered that owls required no postage.
"My dear Mrs. Potter,
We are delighted at your invitation for our Petey to come stay with you this summer. Unfortunately, he neglected to tell James that he has already made a commitment to visit his grandparents in America for the month of August. We look forward, however, to seeing you and your family on the 31st of August in the Leaky Cauldron.
All the best,
Paula Pettigrew
Next week saw one from Mrs. Black, on creamy parchment, addressed in swirling green calligraphy.
Mr. and Mrs. Fleamont Potter,
We extend our gratitude to you and your son for inviting Sirius to join you during the summer holidays. However, Sirius has many duties here at home which will exclude him from any outings. I'm sure the boys will find they have ample time to spend together during the school year.
Sincerely,
Mrs. Orion Black
Finally came a small envelope, its contents written in the tidy penmanship of R. J. Lupin.
Dear James, and Branwen,
I'm sorry I won't be able to come over during the week before school. My aunt contracted dragon pox last month, and I'll be spending time with her and mother at St. Mungo's. Would much rather be there with you guys. I'll see you at the Leaky Cauldron though.
Best wishes,
Remus
P.S. Congrats on your acceptance letter, Branwen! We'll save you a seat at the Gryffindor table!
When her family wasn't looking, Branwen sneaked that letter into her drawer, adding it to the ones from her brother.
James moped about the house for a few days after the letters arrived, but perked up when Branwen suggested practising their Quidditch moves. As a second year, James would be able to bring his own broom, a Nimbus 1000, and try out for the Gryffindor team in the fall.
As the siblings rested on their brooms, high enough above Hyde Park to avoid being sighted by Muggles, Branwen asked, "James, do you really think I'll be sorted into Gryffindor?"
James shrugged. "I don't see why not. Most every Potter has been. Besides, the only other house you could possibly fit into would be Hufflepuff."
"Are you saying I'm not smart enough for Ravenclaw?" Her hands went to her hips.
James chuckled. "Well, you're definitely not a Slytherin, at least. And hey, you know you can actually tell the Sorting Hat which House you want. That's what Sirius said. He said it was going to put him in Slytherin and he threatened to set it on fire if it didn't put him somewhere else. I guess maybe that's why it picked Gryffindor. Have to have some balls to argue with the Hat."
Branwen frowned as she considered this. "I don't think I'm that brave."
"The Hat will know. Now come on; I want to practise that Porksoff Ploy one more time before we head home."
Finally, just a few days before the Potters were due on Diagon Alley, another package arrived. This one bore the official seal of the Ministry of Magic and was addressed to "Families of Hogwarts Students." Inside was a bundle of pamphlets that spilled onto the table when James ripped open the wrapping.
"Dad, who's Vol-dee-mort?"
Fleamont's paper fell into his plate of bacon and beans; Euphemia's fork clattered to the floor.
"What did you say, son?"
"These papers. They're from the Ministry. They're talking about someone called Vol-dee-mort and all kinds of nasty other things. Look: vampires, Inferi, werewolves." James pointed at the moving illustrations as the siblings spread the tracts between themselves. One showed a cloaked man transfiguring into a bat and flying off into a twilit sky. On another, a lake was churning as a mass of skeletal figures crawled out. And on the last was a vicious looking man, growling and snarling at the camera with unusually long teeth and yellow eyes. He held a prison identification card that read: Fenrir Greyback.
"Give me those!" Euphemia gasped and snatched the pamphlets away. "Fleamont, tell them what you must, but don't let them look at these awful pictures. Sending things like this to schoolchildren. What can Dumbledore be thinking?"
Fleamont cleared his throat, the eyes of his two children fixed on him in earnest eagerness. "Children, your mother and I have tried to teach you that there is good and evil in this world. We all have light and dark inside us. What matters is the part we choose to act on. That's who we really are.
"Unfortunately, some wizards choose to act on the dark in themselves. In fact, that's just what this fellow Voldemort is doing. And apparently he's trying to drum up followers now. Witches and wizards, yes, but also unsavoury characters like those." He jerked his thumb toward the pamphlets Euphemia had tossed in the waste-bin.
"Should we – should we be scared?" Branwen whispered.
James scoffed. "'Course not! We're Gryffindors! We're not afraid of anything! Besides, we've got Dumbledore. No one can defeat him."
"Your brother's right on at least one of those points. Hogwarts is the safest place for you kids. Dumbledore, and all the professors there, know more than a thing or two about fighting Dark Magic."
"All right," Euphemia stood, crossing her arms. "That's enough of that. I want you two to go and see what you have for school so we'll know what we need to buy when we get to Diagon Alley."
James and Branwen scampered off to obey their mother.