The days leading up to Sirius's departure for Hogwarts were filled with a mix of excitement and a strange, quiet sadness. He'd grown used to the wide halls and grand rooms of the Black family estate, with its ever-watchful portraits and whispers from long-gone ancestors. The idea of leaving it all behind—his routines, the familiar creak of the floorboards, even the stern glances from the old elves—tugged at his heart more than he expected. Still, he didn't let himself linger on it too long. There were goodbyes to say, and gifts to give.
On the night before he was set to leave, Sirius found Augustus in the garden, kneeling near the base of an overgrown wall, hands deep in ivy. Augustus, always quiet and steady, worked like the manor itself would fall apart without him. Sirius approached with a small enchanted bag in hand.
"Augie," he said, his voice softer than usual. "I've got something for you."
Augustus turned, curious. The bag looked ordinary, but when Sirius gave it a quick flick, it expanded in midair, revealing its magical storage depth.
"It's enchanted," Sirius said. "You can fit just about anything inside—tools, books, even your lunch. Thought it might help with your work while I'm gone."
Augustus looked at the bag, then at Sirius, a rare smile playing at the corners of his lips. "Thank you, Master Sirius," he said, quietly but with feeling.
Sirius just nodded, suddenly unsure what else to say. Goodbye felt too final.
Later that evening, he ducked into Phineas's room. They ended up sprawled on the floor, playing a long and thoughtful game of chess, not saying much, just sharing time. When the board was packed away, Sirius pulled out one of the twin journals he'd enchanted earlier.
"Here," he said, handing it over. "It's linked to mine. So you can write to me whenever you want—about home, school, whatever. Doesn't need to be anything special. I just want to keep in touch."
Phineas looked at the journal, then up at Sirius with a faint, serious nod. "I'll write," he promised.
That was enough.
Sirius's last stop was Ella's room. He knocked, then let himself in. She was stretched out on her bed, book in hand, looking every bit the picture of disinterest.
"What now?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.
He smirked and sat on the edge of her bed, lowering his voice. "I'm giving you something, but it comes with rules."
She perked up a little.
He handed her a small, floppy gray hat. "Notice-me-not charm. You wear it, people are less likely to pay attention to you. It won't make you invisible, but it'll make it easier to sneak around. Thought you'd like it—just… don't go starting a revolution while I'm gone."
Ella took the hat with a grin. "No promises. You're going to regret this, you know."
"Probably," he said with a laugh. "Just don't drive Mother mad. At least not more than usual."
"I'll make sure to leave a few surprises for you to clean up when you get back," she replied sweetly.
He left her room with a chuckle, then paused at the window at the end of the hall. The garden was dark now, shadows stretching long across the lawn. In the distance, he imagined he could see Hogwarts already—towering and distant, filled with magic and mystery.
The next morning, September 1st, 1856, began with a quiet, solemn air hanging over the Black household. Breakfast was served promptly at 8 a.m., but it wasn't the usual cheerful, chaotic affair. The family dining room, grand with its crystal chandelier and dark mahogany table, felt a little too large that morning.
Sirius sat at his usual spot, dressed neatly in travel robes, his Hogwarts trunk already packed and waiting by the front door. The house-elves had prepared a generous spread—steaming rolls, jam, eggs, roasted tomatoes, and spiced tea—but no one seemed to be eating much.
His mother, Ella Black, sat upright and graceful, but her eyes lingered on Sirius with a softness that rarely broke through her usual composure. "Remember, keep your shoes polished, be punctual to every class, and write home at least once a week," she said, adjusting the collar of his robe despite it already being perfectly straight.
Cygnus Black, his father, offered more practical guidance. "Don't let yourself be led around. Make friends, yes—but remember who you are. Keep your head high. The Black name carries weight, and you are its future."
Then came Grandfather Aquarius, towering and stern even in his old age. He laid a firm hand on Sirius's shoulder and looked him directly in the eye. "Uphold the dignity of the House of Black in all you do," he said gravely. "Not just with pride, but with wisdom. Your choices will echo for generations."
Sirius nodded, swallowing the lump in his throat.
Nearby, Mr. Edward Hector and his wife Polly—longtime helpers and almost like an uncle and aunt to Sirius—pulled him into warm hugs. Polly fussed over his scarf, while Edward clapped him on the back. "You'll do just fine, lad," he said with a wide grin. "Make a name for yourself, but don't forget to enjoy it too. Hogwarts only comes once."
His siblings were each handling the morning in their own way. Phineas had been pouting since sunrise, sitting at the far end of the table and stabbing half-heartedly at a piece of toast. He hadn't said much, but his sulky silence spoke volumes.
Ella, on the other hand, was in tears before Sirius even finished his first cup of tea. "It won't be the same without you," she sniffled, trying—and failing—to maintain her usual sass. When little Isla saw her older sister crying, she burst into tears too, despite not quite understanding why. She simply clung to Sirius's robes, sobbing into his robes.
Sirius tried to smile through the emotion, brushing Isla's curls back and squeezing Ella's hand. "I'll be back for the holidays," he reminded them gently. "And I'll write. Promise."
The morning wore on quickly, and as the clock chimed a quarter past nine, the moment arrived. With one last look around the room, Sirius felt the weight of home settle deep in his chest. He hugged his mother and father, gave Phineas a one-armed squeeze, kissed Isla's forehead, and whispered something silly into Ella's ear that made her giggle through the tears.
It was time to go.
The carriage waited outside, ready to take him to King's Cross Station—and to a world that would change him forever.
The morning air was thick with excitement and the tension of impending goodbyes as Sirius, along with his mother Ella and father Cygnus, made their way from the Black family carriage towards the bustling Platform 9¾. They had landed directly on magical side somehow which sirius thought was impossible but anyways.
The atmosphere at King's Cross Station was one of organized chaos. A faint hum of magic pulsed in the air, and there was the unmistakable clatter of luggage being loaded onto trains, the squeak of trolley wheels, and the occasional shriek of children bidding tearful farewells.
Ella clutched Sirius's arm, her eyes welling up with emotion she tried to hide beneath a veil of composure. Cygnus, as always, maintained a stern facade, his black robes sweeping the ground as he walked, his gaze sharp and unforgiving. Sirius knew that beneath his father's rigid exterior, there was a certain reluctance to let go. Cygnus had always expected excellence from his family, and perhaps that was why he felt an acute sense of both pride and pressure as his son prepared to leave for Hogwarts.
"This is where we part," Cygnus murmured in a voice so low only Sirius could hear. "Remember who you are, Sirius. The House of Black expects nothing less than perfection."
Sirius gave a slight nod, fighting back the lump that had formed in his throat. "I won't forget," he said, his voice steady despite the storm brewing inside him.
Ella, ever the emotional one, reached up to smooth his hair and pressed a kiss to his forehead. "Be careful, my darling," she whispered. "And write to us often."
With one final squeeze of his arm, his parents stepped back as he joined the throng of first-year students making their way toward the magical platform.
As they neared Platform 9¾, the scene in front of Sirius unfolded like something out of a dream—a swirl of magical energy and the hum of wizarding power. The Hogwarts Express stood proudly, a magnificent, gleaming red train surrounded by a cloud of steam. Its whistle pierced the air, cutting through the general noise like a command.
To Sirius's eyes, the train was both impressive and a little underwhelming, despite its beauty. The train's muggle origins were undeniable. It had only been operational for a few decades, a relatively recent addition to the wizarding world, and that fact was not lost on his parents. They exchanged disapproving glances, a mix of disdain and distaste clear on their faces as they eyed the Hogwarts Express with contempt.
"Would it have been so difficult to maintain the traditional means of travel?" Cygnus muttered under his breath. "This muggle-made contraption is hardly fitting for Hogwarts."
Ella, ever the lady, merely sniffed and cast an appraising look at the gleaming carriages that attached themselves to the train. "It's certainly no abraxan carriage," she remarked, the hint of an aristocratic sneer curling her lips.
Sirius had heard his parents' opinions on the train many times before. They found the idea of a large, steam-powered muggle machine ferrying young witches and wizards to school rather beneath their family's dignity. Sirius, however, was just trying to get used to the idea of leaving home, and the train, muggle-made or not, was the vessel that would take him to his new life.
The platform was alive with energy. Young witches and wizards were milling about in a frenzy, gathering their belongings, saying their last goodbyes to their families, and eagerly hopping onto the train. Sirius felt a buzz of excitement in the air as families greeted each other, exchanging words of encouragement and advice.
As he made his way through the crowd, Sirius spotted familiar faces: Burton Flint and Cloyd Prewett, both first-years like him. Burton was a stocky boy with a broad, jovial grin, while Cloyd was tall, lean, and quiet in comparison, his thoughtful eyes scanning the scene around them. They waved enthusiastically at Sirius, who made his way over to them, relief flooding his chest at the sight of familiar faces amidst the crowd of strangers.
"Sirius!" Burton said, clapping him on the back with far more enthusiasm than was necessary. "Ready for your first year, mate?"
Sirius grinned. "I think so. Can't wait to get this over with." He glanced at Cloyd, who was watching them both with a reserved smile.
"Have you found a compartment yet?" Cloyd asked, his voice low but steady.
"No," Sirius replied. "I figured we could find one together."
Burton nodded eagerly. "Sounds like a plan. Let's grab a carriage before all the good ones are taken!" He turned, looking over the crowd of students scrambling to board the train, but stopped short as a small group of young witches ran past, giggling and pointing at him.
"Oi, watch where you're going!" one of them shouted back playfully, but they were already too far away to hear. The noise of the crowd was deafening—there was the shrill sound of an owl hooting nearby, a goat bleating in the distance, and the low rumble of the train, which was starting to move slightly.
Sirius couldn't help but notice the animals scattered around the platform. Cats were darting between feet, trying to avoid being stepped on, while owls perched on the shoulders of students, hooting softly in anticipation of the journey. He even saw a few magical creatures Sirius hadn't seen in person before like nifflers darting around the ground, searching for anything shiny.
As they made their way to the nearest carriage, the sounds of chatter, laughter, and the occasional bark of a dog surrounded them. Several other students had already boarded, but there was plenty of room for Sirius, Burton, and Cloyd to squeeze in. They found a compartment, and Sirius settled in, his stomach fluttering nervously as the train doors closed with a soft thud.
Outside, his parents were still there, greeting acquaintances, shaking hands, and exchanging pleasantries with other distinguished families from the wizarding world. Cygnus was deep in conversation with someone from the Lestrange family, while Ella was speaking with Lady Malfoy, both women wearing polite but tight smiles. Sirius couldn't hear the words, but the way they spoke told him it was all about business—about connections, status, and the ongoing pursuit of their family's reputation.
Sirius pressed his face to the window and waved one last time, his heart heavy with the thought of leaving his family behind, even if it was only for a short while. The train slowly began to pull away, and with a last lingering glance, Sirius turned to face his friends. The adventure was about to begin.
One hour into the journey, Sirius looked up from his game of Exploding Snap, hearing a soft knock on the compartment door. He glanced up to see his cousins standing there, their faces grinning mischievously as always. Lawrence, the more outgoing one, was holding a small bag, and Stephen, his older brother, looked a little more reserved, though equally curious.
"Hey, cousin, how's the ride?" Lawrence asked cheerfully as he entered the compartment, offering Sirius a bright smile. In his hand, he held out a blue candy, the wrapper crinkling slightly as he offered it. "Meet Hemres Rookwood," he continued, gesturing to the brown-haired boy standing behind them. "He's in Stephen's year."
Sirius gave a small nod, returning Lawrence's smile. He had met Hermes before—his parents and the Rookwoods had shared various gatherings over the years. Hermes, with his neatly kept brown hair and a calm demeanor, looked every bit the Hufflepuff he likely was, judging by his robes and the subtle way he observed his surroundings.
"Nice to meet you, Hermes," Sirius said, offering a warm handshake as he took the candy Lawrence had given him.
Burton Flint and Cloyd Prewett, who had been lounging on the seats, looked up at the newcomers with mild interest. Burton, always the talker, leaned forward. "More family, huh?" he said, grinning. "What's the candy situation like? We're about to run out of these frogs."
Cloyd, who had been lazily flipping through a small magical card game, rolled his eyes. "Are you really going to eat all the chocolate frogs, Burton? At this rate, you'll be bouncing off the walls by the time we get there."
Burton chuckled, not missing a beat. "I'd be happy to bounce off a few walls if it means I can avoid more of your bad jokes, Cloyd."
Sirius smiled, glad to have his friends around to liven up the ride. "If it's more candy you're after, the trolley's going to pass through soon. I'm planning on stocking up," he said with a mischievous glint in his eye. "How about you two?"
"Already on it," Burton said, reaching into his bag to pull out a small pile of Galleons. "I'll take anything that isn't chocolate frogs. These things are starting to make my teeth ache."
"Yeah, same here," Cloyd added, putting his card game aside. "But don't go overboard. We don't want to end up with sugar rushes by the time we get to Hogwarts."
As if on cue, the trolley witch came down the aisle, calling out, "Sweet treats! Chocolate frogs, sugar quills, and licorice wands!"
Sirius raised an eyebrow, looking at his friends. "Ready to load up?" he asked.
Burton grinned. "Oh, I'm already halfway there. Get me the chocolate frogs, the Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans, and those sugar quills."
Cloyd shook his head with a smirk, pulling out a couple of Galleons. "I'll take a pumpkin pasty and one of those licorice wands. I'm not in the mood for sweets today."
Sirius chuckled and turned to the trolley witch. "I'll take a dozen of everything. Go big or go home, right?"
The trolley witch gave him a knowing smile, clearly used to kids overloading on candy. "You've got it, dear. A dozen of each, coming right up."
She made her way down the aisle, and soon enough, they had a small mountain of candy piled up between them. Burton immediately grabbed a chocolate frog, tearing into it with a flourish. "Here's hoping for a good collectible card this time," he said, popping the frog into his mouth.
Cloyd carefully unwrapped his licorice wand, eyeing it suspiciously before taking a small bite. "Not bad," he admitted, though he didn't look all that impressed.
Sirius, satisfied with his own haul, leaned back in his seat, dropping all the candy into his leather satchel with a contented sigh. "This is exactly what I needed. A good stash to get me through the journey."
Lawrence, still standing in the doorway, looked at the pile of candy and raised an eyebrow. "You guys are really going all in on the sweets, huh?" he asked, eyeing the pile with amusement.
Sirius grinned. "It's been a long time since I've had much candy. I'm making up for lost time."
"Same here," Burton added, grinning and popping another frog into his mouth. "You know what they say—candy today, breakfast tomorrow."
Stephen, looking more reserved, watched his cousins and friends with a mixture of confusion and mild fascination. "Do you guys always eat so much?" he asked, leaning against the doorframe.
"Of course," Cloyd replied with a wink. "You've got to start young if you want to survive the Hogwarts food situation. The sweets are the best part of the ride."
Hermes, who had been quietly observing the exchange, finally spoke up, his voice soft but thoughtful. "It's a bit surprising, though. I thought we'd be on a more... traditional wizarding transport. This Muggle train is nice, but it's so... different."
Sirius chuckled at the serious tone in Hermes' voice. "It's all right, Hermes," he said with a reassuring grin. "It's not the train that makes the ride—it's the company."
Burton snorted. "And the candy," he added.
The group laughed together, the atmosphere in the compartment light and easy. They spent the next few hours playing games, eating candy, and chatting about their hopes for the school year. It wasn't long before they'd all forgotten the time, wrapped up in the joy of the journey ahead.
"Anyone want to start another game of Exploding Snap?" Sirius asked, looking around at his friends as the train rumbled steadily along. "We can't let Burton win again, right?"
"Oh, you want to challenge me, huh?" Burton grinned, already shuffling the cards. "You better be ready to lose."
Cloyd raised an eyebrow but smiled. "Yeah, sure. You've been winning all morning. Let's see if you can keep the streak going."
The games resumed with more laughter, the chatter flowing freely between them. They were all eager for what lay ahead, but for now, the thrill of the journey, the excitement of Hogwarts, and the endless supply of sweets were enough to keep them entertained.
" Hogsmeade station is 1 hour away. Students please leave your Trunks and Pets with it named properly and fully mentioned on trunks and Cages of Pets. Proper uniforms are compulsory for All students during the ceremony. Hogsmeade Station 1 hour away. Current time - 4:30 P.M."
An hour after this announcement, the train came to a slow stop with a groan of metal against metal. Sirius leaned forward, peering out of the window. The platform outside was bustling with activity, and the air was sharp and chilly. He could see students scrambling to gather their belongings, eager to get off the train. The door behind him opened, and a flood of excited first years surged past, some nervously clutching their sling bags, others chatting excitedly with friends. Sirius barely had time to collect his things before the compartment door swung open, and the crowd started pushing forward.
"Here we go," Cloyd said with a grin, nudging Burton as he got up. Burton, ever the jokester, chuckled and slapped Sirius on the back.
"Hope you're ready for your first real taste of Hogwarts, mate," he said, the usual mischievous gleam in his eyes.
Sirius couldn't help but smile. "I'm more ready for the food than the castle, but I suppose we'll see."
The trio shuffled with the crowd, making their way out into the brisk evening air. Sirius was sandwiched between a few kids, the chaos of the crowd pulling him this way and that. After navigating through the thick mass of students, he emerged into the open air and took a deep breath. The chill of the evening felt sharp against his skin, and he pulled his cloak tighter around his shoulders.
Ahead of him, several horseless carriages were lined up, waiting for the students. To his surprise, the carriages filled quickly, leaving a vast majority of students standing around, unsure of what to do.
"Guess we're walking," Burton said, his tone a little disappointed. "Though it looks like they're coming back for us." He pointed to the carriages that had started to return toward the front.
"Yeah, it's a bit odd, isn't it?" Cloyd said, eyes scanning the crowd. "I thought we were supposed to ride those. Don't they usually pull up the first years first?"
Sirius shrugged. "Guess we'll find out in a minute."
The two adults standing at the front called out for first years, and the crowd parted slightly, revealing two groups of kids. Sirius noticed that there were more than 100 first years, and they were herded into a group by the two adults.
Sirius felt a buzz of excitement in his chest. This was it—the first step toward Hogwarts. Burton and Cloyd flanked him as they moved toward the boats. The students were split into groups of four, and soon, Sirius found himself seated in the second boat, his friends beside him. An adult climbed into the boat in front, and another took the rear. The boats began to move, gliding silently across the water, as if pulled by the magic of lights.
Sirius looked around at the other boats, the other first years—some whispering nervously, others excitedly pointing at the castle. He felt a bit of that same excitement, mixed with an odd sense of awe as he turned his gaze forward.
And then, it happened.
Ahead of him, the dark silhouette of Hogwarts Castle slowly emerged from the shadows. The sight was like something out of a dream—a towering mass of stone, hundreds of towers rising into the night sky, windows sparkling with a golden glow. The walls were endless, stretching high and wide, roofs that seemed to have no end. The whole thing was bathed in a faint, almost ethereal light, casting a golden glow over the lake. The view was breathtaking. It looked like a place from a fairytale, a majestic, ancient place that didn't belong anywhere near the Muggle world.
Sirius's breath caught in his throat. "Wow," he muttered, barely able to tear his eyes away. The boat rocked gently as it moved toward the castle, but his gaze was fixed on the distant walls, the glittering lights inside.
"Yeah, it's something, isn't it?" Burton said, clearly impressed too. "I've never seen anything like it. Looks like the kind of place where you'd expect to run into a ghost or two."
Cloyd let out a low whistle. "It's like it's alive, isn't it? The way it just... glows in the dark. I can't wait to explore that place."
Sirius was so caught up in the beauty of the scene that he didn't even notice the boat had started to get closer to the shore. He looked down at his watch. It was only 6:30 in the evening, but the sun had already set, and darkness had claimed the sky. It felt much later than it was.
The boats reached the shore, and they disembarked in a line, their boats hitting the gravel as they made their way towards the edge of the water. The first years gathered in a loose group, some whispering excitedly to each other, while others just stood, wide-eyed, taking in the towering castle before them.
The adults—the caretakers of Hogwarts, no doubt—stood waiting at the water's edge, guiding them with firm but gentle hands. The remaining first years were ushered quickly out of the boats, The air was crisp, and a quiet, almost reverent atmosphere settled over them as they approached.
Sirius glanced at his friends as they trudged up the steps, the excitement palpable in the air. They were nearly there. The grand doors of Hogwarts loomed ahead, so large that even Sirius felt tiny in their shadow. A line of students was already standing in front of the doors, whispering among themselves.
The doors creaked open, revealing the enormous entryway. It felt like stepping into another world. The hall beyond was vast, stretching high above their heads. The golden glow from the windows cast a warm light over the stone walls, giving the entire hall an almost magical glow. But it was the sense of history in that room—the years upon years of students passing through those doors—that made the space feel alive with possibility.
A tall figure stepped forward from within the hall, the sound of their footsteps echoing through the silence. The figure was dressed in rich robes, the kind that Sirius immediately recognized as belonging to a professor. The professor smiled warmly at them, and with a nod, she greeted the students.
"Welcome to Hogwarts," she said in a voice that carried over the students.