It had been a long morning, but it was to be expected by now. The first day of school had always sucked the most. As his brothers had grown and inevitably graduated, they earned the right to not be drug along with the family on the obligatory “First Day of School Hustle”. It was a dance that Lonan knew all too well, and with every step to the mind numbing beat his resentment grew that much more. But being the youngest sibling, the lowest on the food chain, gave someone access to a very special ring of Hell.

As long as he could remember, he had been pulled out of bed at an ungodly hour to trundle along with the whole family to Platform 9 ¾, but was the only poor son of a bitch ripped from his sanctuary this morning. The closest feeling he could relate that violation to would probably be when he was born, and was torn from the womb. He had gone shopping two weeks before school had started, had picked up the things he needed most for the school year. A new beater bat, new robes and new potions equipment. The lose in the Quidditch cup at school the last year had gnawed at him, damn near consumed him. He spent all summer outside, playing Quidditch. He bought books on books on books about the sport, about each different position so he could learn how to counter a few of the favorite tricks and he bought every single book he could on strength and conditioning for sports. Everyday he got faster and stronger, and was stunned to find that his robes barely fit him anymore. He had smashed his other bat into pieces in the locker room, and had used his brother Marc's all summer to practice. It was very good, seeing as how Marc played professionally, and even a professional's extra was better than anything Lonan could have afforded at the time. And it had done very well, and Lonan had packed it anyway, but he wanted something he could break in himself. He held a very special bond with a thing he was about to use to cause harm to others. It was important to him. 

His father, impressed by the fact that Lonan actually wasn't just doing drugs and bringing home girls all summer, had financed his trip to Diagon Alley that year. His parents both worked high in the Ministry somewhere, or some bullshit like that, but they made damn good money. Instead of making sibling share rooms, they just kept building onto the house as children were born, which translates to a damn big house when there are seven. So his dad could afford to bribe Lonan a little bit. Lonan knew his dad didn't have the energy to even try pretending that he loved him as much as he did his brothers. It was cool. He solicited some good bribes out of it. Armed with more money than he could ever remember being trusted with, he bought the same bat his brother used and a lightly used Firebolt 6. It wasn't the newest of the line, but it was better than anything almost everyone else in that damn school had. With the last bit of his money he picked up new robes, enjoyed how all the girls in his class stared at him when he was in his undershirt getting measured for the robes, and bought a new potions kit. He could probably find the other stuff he needed for this year. Thomas wasn't that much older than he was, the books couldn't be that different by now. He bought a new potions kit because you should never underestimate how much fate and a little bit of ego stroking can do for you. Professor Slughorn loved Lonan. Fucking loved him. He had loved his father, and he had loved all his brothers too. He had even loved his mother, and puffs his chest about introducing them. Even if Slughorn brags about Potter all the time, Lonan tolerates it. And being on the House Quidditch team had been way too easy. Sometimes it felt unfair. Slughorn was very well respected by the other faculty, and Lonan knew that anytime a situation may not have been looking particularly favorable for Lonan in terms of expulsion, Slughorn always made sure there was enough doubt in Potter's mind to keep him. It worked. Every. Single. Time.

He had found most of the books he needed with Thomas' things, and he could probably just borrow other people's books, or look off them in class. Or just steal them. He made it a goal that as the year went by, he would steal something from at least one person in every single house, more if the chance presented itself. Never anything too big. Mostly random bullshit. He loved to take Rememberalls, because of how clueless those witless dopes were without them. At least it would be school supplies. That's a little easier to justify to yourself. 

He arrived at the pillar and stepped through pulling along his trunk packed with all the school supplies he could muster and topped off by a large black cat lying on the top. It was often mistaken for a medium sized dog from a distance. He had found Pluto in the woods near his home, mewing helplessly. He had taken it home and taken care of it and it got huge, and hated everyone but Lonan and a handful of his closest friends from school. He hid most of the time, and only came out when he wanted too. Lonan didn't even know where he went.

He got dropped off at the door by his mother, who offered her ever helpful mantra of “Do your best not to be expelled”, instead of pretending to want to walk him in and see him off. So he sidestepped the emotional family and shaking babies and kissing hands stuff that usually goes on before the train leaves, and walked back to find an empty compartment and wait for the rest of the Slytherin team.