"Ohp! Here they come..."

"I swear, there's more of them every bleedin' year..."

"Always making a scene."

"It's a wonder the Ministry hasn't limited their access to the Platform! How do they ever get past without every muggle in London looking on?"

"Just ridiculous having so many kids, what do they do with that many kids? It's too many!"

"Oi, Chauncey - at least it took seven of us to be too many, what's the excuse for you, being as there's only one of you and I heard your mum say that was two too many!" Bill said, shouting across Platform 9 3/4 at the top of his voice.

"BILL!" Molly snapped.

Bill aimed his finger at his eyes then back at Chauncey, but followed after his mum obediently.

The Weasleys were quite used to being the center of attention anywhere they went. It was hard not to be. Between Ginny's shrieking and Fred and George doing leapfrog over one another across the platform, there was simply no missing them. Even blind people could spot the Weasleys coming from a mile away - something that was proven by the fact that Uncle Bilius's old friend Andy Woodhouse called out, "Weaslebees!" at the top of his voice as they passed by, and Bill stopped his trolley to run over and give Andy a hug.

Charlie clutched his trolley handle, Errol squawking from where he balanced in his cage on top of his trunk, and hoped the stares would die down once the rest of the kids had gone.

Molly and Arthur guided the brood through the crowd what seemed like the entire length of King's Cross and showed Charlie where to deliver his trolley for stowing away. Wizards were hurriedly packing the trunks under the compartments of the scarlet red train, which was steaming and sighing.

The first time Charlie had ever seen the Hogwarts Express was when he was a little kid and Uncle Bilius had brought him and Bill to King's Cross just to see it. Uncle Bilius had sat them down on a bench to watch the commotion of everyone getting stowed away and he'd talked a lot about when he was younger and how he and his friends had spent long rides from London to Hogsmeade eating animal crackers and licorice wands from the trolley. "Derek always got jelly slugs," he remembered, and he stared at one particular compartment window for a long time while Charlie sat on the floor and imagined that the train was a giant scarlet dragon - likely one of the Chinese Cresteds, like his stuffed one.

The Express still reminded Charlie of a dragon. But then again most things did remind him of dragons. He was very good at being reminded of dragons.

Mrs. Weasley kissed the top of Bill's head, to which he whined and ducked away. "Come off it, mum, third years don't get kissed by their mothers on the Platform, what are you thinking?" he looked around to see if any of his friends were watching.

"Good boys say goodbye to their mothers properly!" she said.

Mr. Weasley gave Bill a strong handshake, "Have a good year, son, be safe. Write us loads of owls!"

"Sure dad," Bill answered.

He started to turn to run off, but Mrs. Weasley shouted, "Wait for your brother!"

Bill stopped in his tracks. "Sorry, Charlie, I forgot you were coming this year."

Charlie was about to answer Bill when he was suddenly sidelined by Mrs. Weasley pulilng him into her chest so tight that he could hardly breathe. "Mum!" he squeaked.

"I'm sorry, it's just my ickle baby going off to Hogwarts. Oh will this ever get easier?" she sighed and let go, cupping Charlie's face in her hands. "You be a good boy, now, and do your best." She looked up. "Bill, you best be watching after your brother, make sure he finds his way around the school just fine and makes it to all his classes on time. You remember how confusing first year can be and you've got a responsibility –"

"I know mum, Merlin's beard, I'm not going to just off and leave the kid the second we get on the train, what do you think I am? A horrible person or something? Who raised me? Wolves?"

Mrs. Weasley eyed her son carefully, then looked to Charlie again. "If you need anything at all, you send Errol." She pressed a big wet kiss on Charlie's forehead and Charlie took it patiently, grimacing as she made a big smacking mwah of a sound as she pulled back.

Mr. Weasley hugged Charlie - he'd really wanted to hug Bill, too, but hadn't wanted to be reprimanded the way his wife had been. He patted the boy on the back and said, "You'll have a brilliant time. Just try not to be too nervous and give a go at new things, you never know until you try it if you enjoy something!" he smiled, then leaned close. "Dragon safe and sound?"

Charlie flushed. He knew his family probably guessed what he'd run back inside for, but he'd been hoping they could just never mention it. But of course Mr. Weasley had to go and say it, however quietly. Charlie nodded, though, and patted his satchel.

"Very good," Mr. Weasley said, then, "There is plenty of time for Jackie Paper to grow up. It doesn't need to be all at once." He kissed the top of his son's head affectionately, then turned him and pointed him at the train. "Off you go to your big adventure."

Charlie nodded.

"BYE CHARLIE," yelled Fred.

"YEAH BYE CHARLIE," called George and they both giggled and hugged their brother.

"See you at Christmas holiday," Percy said, and he reached 'round behind Charlie and took the parchment off his back that the twins had put there in the motion of it.

"Aw man!" the twins said in unison as Percy balled up the parchment.

"You're no fun," accused Fred.

"Yeah, no fun!" George added.

"Thanks," Charlie said to Percy and Percy, who was usually the recipient of the twins' humor, nodded solemnly.

With a wave to Ronald and Ginny, Charlie and Bill headed for the train. Charlie hesitated for a moment as he stepped up, but there were people coming up behind him, so he didn't get to linger, and the next thing he knew he was on board the Express. Bill opened the door to a compartment and looked inside. "Here you go, Charlie," he said.

Charlie stepped under his brother's arm and found himself in an empty compartment. Bill took the cage for Errol and shoved the owl up onto the overhead rack, then turned to the doorway, "Alright. See you."

"Wait, what, you're leaving?"

Bill shrugged, "Yeah, gonna go sit with my friends."

"What about me, can't I come with you?"

Bill looked Charlie over. "Look, you're on your own kid. You'll make friends. I promise. But I've got stuff to do."

Charlie felt sick.

"You'll be fine!" Bill reassured him and he clapped him on the shoulder and stepped out of the compartment. He paused. "Just... if someone does sit with you... don't talk about dragons all the way to Hogsmeade, huh?" The door swung shut before Charlie could answer and he stared dumbfounded at the closed door where his brother had been a moment before.

He had half a mind to go running back out onto the Platform and tell their mother what Bill had done not even ten feet onto the Express, and he'd just about talked himself into going and doing it when he heard the whistle and the whole train jerked as the brakes were let loose from the engine and the cars all seemed to sigh and shudder in preparation.

Charlie knelt on the bench seat and pressed his face to the window.

Mrs. Weasley was yelling at Fred (or maybe it was George), whichever one it was, she held both twins, each by one arm, as she talked and Arthur was rocking the red-faced Ginny while Percy held Ronald with one hand and waved to Charlie with the other. Charlie waved back just as the train jostled, then started to chug forward, the wheels beginning to turn as they moved on the tracks, slowly at first... then picking up... the Platform blurring as the train pulled away, and soon the entire cluster of Weasleys was nothing but a dot... and then impossible to see at all.

Charlie sat down heavily on the bench. He didn't reckon he could remember it ever being so quiet as it was just then.

Quiet, of course, being a relative term. Anything can be quiet compared to a room with seven children and two adults shouting over the noise.

Nymphadora Tonks extricated herself away from Ted and Andromeda, took two steps onto the Hogwarts Express, pulled off to one side of the corridor and screwed her face up into a knot, turning her hair pink, her eyes bright lavender.

"And now," she said with a sigh of relief, "I am Tonks."

She dug into her bag and pulled out her Walkman, clipping it onto her waist. Headphones on and plugged in, turned up to her favorite volume - loud - and clicked play.

The guitars that filled her ears then were awesome and she drew a deep breath, feeling as though life had just started officially and truly for the first time. No one was there to tell her not to turn her hair pink. No one was there to tell her not to turn her eyes lavender. And, most importantly of all, no one was there to tell her not to turn her volume up as loud as she wanted.

Tonks mouthed the lyrics as she walked, peeking into compartments to see if she could find an empty one.

So this ain't the eeeeend I saw you agaaaaaain - todayyyyyyy. I had to turrrrn my hearrrrrt aaaaa-waaaaay.... Smile like the sun, kisses for everyone...And tales it neeeeever faaaaails... You lyin' so low in theeee weeeeeeds... I bet you goooooonnaaaa ambuuuuush meeeeee.... You'd have me down, down, down, down, dowwwwwwn on myyyyy knees - Now wouldn't you – OOoohh... BARRACUDA!

Did every compartment on the entire train have at least one kid in it? She wondered as she stepped between cars, frowning and pressing herself to the wall as a cluster of students that looked like they were practically adult-sized went back. They must've been seventh years, she thought, watching in awe as they went, talking and laughing.

She felt a tap on her shoulder.

"Nice hair."

"Wotcher Bill," Tonks said, taking one side of her head phones off to greet Bill Weasley, who had been the one to tap her.

"I didn't know you were coming to Hogwarts this year."

"Yup - here I am," Tonks grinned.

"Your mum tell you that you could wear your hair like that?" he laughed.

"What mum doesn't know won't hurt me," she answered.

"I reckon my mum would have a sixth sense and just know I'd done it and she'd send me a howler."

Tonks hesitated. "Well, my mum won't know if nobody tells her." She eyed Bill. "You better not tell her, Weasley, or I'll –"

"Relax Nymphadora," he said, chuckling at her ferocity.

"Don't CALL me Nymphadora!" she complained, "Especially not now when I've only just escaped!" Tonks shook her head.

"Well it's your name, isn't it?" Bill said. 

"Unfortunately," she replied.

He laughed and was about to say more when someone down the corridor yelled his name. Bill grinned at them, then turned back and saluted Tonks. "See you later."

"Wait - Bill, can I sit with you?" she asked, eager to sit with someone she knew if she had to share a compartment at all. .

Bill laughed, "No. I mean you're great and all, but no. Hey my brother Charlie's off in that first compartment over there. Why don't you go sit with him?" And he ducked off before Tonks could say another word, waving to another boy as he went rushing off, shouting, "BELBYYYYY!"

Tonks rolled her eyes, slid the second side of her headset back over her ear, and headed for the compartment Bill had pointed out. 

The real thing don't do the triiick, no you better make up somethiiiing quuuiiiick... you're gonna burrrn, burrrrn, burrrrrn, burrrrn, burrrn it toooo theeee wiiiick -- Ohhhhh... barraaa--barra- BARRACUUUUUUUUDA!

She pushed open the door and sure enough there was Charlie Weasley, leaning against the window sideways on the bench, knees propping up a big red book.

DRAGONS! the title read.

Tonks moved the one side of her headset off her ear again. "Wotcher Charlie."

Charlie Weasley looked up from his book. "Hi." He watched her as she dumped her satchel onto the bench on the opposite side of the compartment from him and sat down. His eyes took in her Walkman, followed the wire as it curved from her waist up to her ears in loop-de-loops, and then seemed to sigh with relief and he turned back to the book without another word.

Tonks was fine with that. More than fine, really. She hadn't wanted to have a conversation. If Charlie was willing to let it be the sort of compartment where she minded her business and he minded his, then that was all the better with her. She laid down on the bench, replaced the head set once again, and, propping her head up on her bag, she settled in for the ride.

All would've been fine if it hadn't been for the fact that the train ride was so very, very long and the lifetimes of Tonk's batteries was so very, very short and they were only about halfway to Hogsmeade when her batteries were completely dead. She sat up when the music stopped.

"Bollocks!"

Charlie glanced over out of his peripheral.

Tonks had her satchel opened and was digging through, then, sick of digging, she upended the thing directly onto the bench and all her stuff fell out, rolling about across the velvet seat. A lip gloss fell onto the floor and Charlie bent down to pick it up, holding it out to her, but she didn't notice, she was too busy pawing through the stuff she'd dumped out. "I know I put a spare pair in my bag! I couldn't possibly have been such a duffer that I put them ALL in my trunk?!"

"What're you looking for?"

"BATTERIES."

Charlie looked confused.

"You know, to power stuff with?"

He shrugged.

"They're like this." She reached down and snapped the battery compartment open on her Walkman, sliding one of the batteries out and showing him. 

Charlie stared at it, then," Oh, my dad has loads of these in the garage in his muggle collection. He's got a terrific muggle collection."

Tonks sighed dramatically and sank against the bench, limbs splayed. "What am I supposed to do all the rest of the way to Hogsmeade without music?" she demanded.

Charlie shrugged.

"UGH!" Tonks threw her head down and to one side, faking having passed out. 

He turned back to his book.

Tonks sat up. She kicked her feet and sighed and looked around, then looked at Charlie. 

Charlie stayed looking at his book.

Tonks looked about again, glancing out the window at the scenery passing by (boring) and kicked her feet again for a few minutes, then sighed. She looked at Charlie.

He was still looking at his book.

"You haven't even turned the page in like an hour, I've been watching," she accused suddenly.

Charlie said, "I'm looking at pictures."

"Are they moving pictures?"

"A few but they're mostly illustrations," he answered. 

"Oh." She paused. "It's about Dragons?"

"Yeah."

"You know how I know that?" she asked, smirking.

"Because of the title," he said.

"Yeah," she said, then, "The title sort of SHOUTS IT, doesn't it? It isn't just Dragons, but it's DRAGONS!" 

Charlie turned the cover over and looked at it. "I don't know if it's shouting it," he said slowly.

"It looks like it's shouting," Tonks said. She waved her hands. "DRAGONS!" she repeated.

Charlie stared at the text, then looked at Tonks. "You're mad."

"You like dragons a lot, huh?"

Charlie nodded.

"I remember you liked them. Do you remember when we saw each other when we were little?"

"Uh-huh," Charlie nodded.

"I remembered you liked dragons from then."

Charlie nodded.

"I mean you really like dragons, don't you?"

"Nearly as much as you seem to like saying that I do."

Tonks laughed. 

Charlie turned back to his book.

Tonks stared at him, sighed, and kicked her legs a few moments, leaning back so her face was turned to the ceiling. She made a popping noise with her lips.

Pop. Pop. Pop.

Charlie glanced up over the cover of his book at her.

Pop. Pop. Pop.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm bored," she complained. She flopped onto her side and stared at him for a long moment, then asked, "You ought to talk to me."

"I am talking to you."

"I mean in like an actual conversation."

Charlie thought for a moment, then, "Did you know that a fully grown female green welsh has a brain the size of a rhinoceros?" 

Tonks stared at him. 

"The males have smaller brains. They're closer in size to a standard milk cow than a rhinoceros."

Tonks shook her head, "I - I did not know that, no." She paused. "Why does anybody know that?"

"Because it's fascinating," Charlie answered. "Just think, the male green welsh is considered one of the smartest species in the world, but his female has approximately twelve times as much brain capacity as he does."

"So why don't they say that the female green welsh is one of the smartest species in the world?"

Charlie shrugged.

"Seems very sexist against female dragons to me."

"They're technically drakon and drakania," Charlie said.

Tonks nodded. 

"They can fly up to 250 knots if they have to, though they're better suited closer to 70 knots." Charlie started picking up steam. "Keepers don't generally fly them over 70 knots because it can be very difficult to stay on, you know, but there are some keepers who purchase specialty harnesses that can hold them on in extreme speeds and they actually race - it's illegal in Britain to race dragons, but there's a whole underground culture for it, isn't there?"

"Is there?"

"Yeah, mostly North, in the Mountains. Though I suppose we're going to the North now. Perhaps we'll see a dragon!" Charlie's eyes darted to the window, then he looked back at Tonks. "Do you reckon there are dragons at Hogwarts?"

She started to answer, but he plowed on instead.

"I doubt it. I'm sure parents would be much more worried about sending their kids to Hogwarts if they thought there were dragons about the campus. I do wish there was though. I'd love to see a real dragon again!"

"You've seen a real dragon before?" Tonks asked.

"Yes, in Gringott's."

"Oh. I thought you mean you'd actually SEEN --"

"I did see it! She picked me up with her tail and everything. She was a very kind dragon."

Tonks stared at him, sure he was making stuff up, but Charlie seemed to be the sort of lad that didn't make things up flippantly. He was far too straight-forward. 

"The fastest dragon ever recorded was the offspring of a breeding between an Australian Ashwyrm and an Icelandic Smoking Grey. They clocked him at slightly over 320 knots." Charlie's eyes were squinted nearly shut as he recalled this - he looked almost in pain. "The rider was a thirty-seven year old dragon racer from Cork who bought the dragon on the black market and after setting the record and having his photograph taken, the authorities threw him in Azkaban and chopped off the head of the dragon. It's on display at the Museum Draconia in Albania and --"

"Do you know Puff the Magic Dragon?" interrupted Tonks. 

Charlie opened his eyes, stopping mid-sentence and stared at her. "The song?"

"Yes, by Peter, Paul and Mary?"

"Yes," Charlie answered.

"Puff lived by the sea, enjoyed frolicking in Autumn mists," Tonks supplied, listing off the more memorable characteristics of Puff, "He was supposedly magical, and lived in a cave, which was likely filled with strings, sealing wax, and other fancy stuff." 

Charlie stared at her, blinking rapidly.

She asked, "What sort of dragon was Puff, d'you reckon?"

Charlie thought for a moment. Then answered, in a perfectly matter-of-fact tone of voice, "Fictional."