First impressions

Hogwarts. At last. His father's parting words rang in his ears, "You have your work cut out for you, young man. If you try to glide through classes the way you did at Wilson, you'll flunk out. You have to work to keep up at Hogwarts."

He hoped so. In his Mugglish small-town grammar school, Sirius had been bored to tears for as long as he could remember. He'd always found some way to amuse himself, but his amusements had resulted in two expulsions and one unfortunate fire that had demolished a Wimpy's. Not only had Dad forced him to apologize to the manager -- a Muggle who never believed that the small boy with a large stick could have incinerated his restaurant just by pointing at it and saying "Whoosh!" -- but he'd been forbidden burgers and fries for months.

"Everyone there is wizarding folk, so don't even think about trying your tricks." Dad knew all about magical tricks. He was a wizard, although he almost never used magic anymore and locked up his wand and his books in the china cupboard. He always explained it by saying, "There's nothing wrong with magic, but it worries your mother." Instead, he tried to remember to use matches, and took the Mugglish bus to his Mugglish job every day. After the fire, though, even Mum agreed that Sirius would be better off going to Hogwarts.

At Hogwarts, at last, Sirius could study magic out in the open, instead of experimenting on his own and breaking into the cupboard for late-night reading. "With any luck," his Mum had sighed, "you'll be too busy to get into trouble."

Maybe. But Sirius didn't think so. He'd always been able to think of much more exciting things to learn and do than his teachers ever had. He missed his Muggle friends, but maybe he could find some like-minded mates to trade spells with. He glanced at the boy beside him, and was distracted from his thoughts. The boy's face was pale as the moon, and he gripped the side of the boat until his knuckles turned white, but he kept his eyes on the towers. "Here, you seasick?" Sirius asked, concerned.

The boy (what had he said his name was? Romulus? Remus? Wasn't that the name of a star? No, that was Rigel. He was just getting confused because of the Romulans on Star Trek. Whichever it was, it had been a cool name.) looked at him briefly, checking his expression, before looking back at the school. "Maybe. I'll be okay."

Sirius nodded, and looked back at Hogwarts. He already had an idea. A place this big had to have dozens of half- forgotten nooks and crannies, and he wanted to get to know every turn, every stairwell, every rooftop, every house-elf dumbwaiter, every (please, let them exist) secret passage and dungeon in the place.

The boy next to him said, "I never thought I'd get here."

"Me neither," Sirius replied. "I think I'm in love."

He hadn't meant to say it out loud, and back home he'd immediately have to start a fight to defend his honor after saying something so twee. He clenched his hands, wondering if he could fight without overturning the boat, and whether he could dog-paddle to shore from here.

But the boy beside him wasn't mocking him, or even showing any sign of having heard. He was looking at a window, in which a figure of a man in a tall hat, with a huge long beard, was backlit. He must have been watching them. Remus nodded, and said, "In love. Yeah. Me too, I think." Then he turned and smiled at Sirius and said intensely, "It's going to be *wonderful*."

Sirius grinned back. "Yeah."

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