Another new year.
As the sun peeked miserably from behind damp clouds, Hermione Granger sprang happily from her bed, Harry Potter rose from his like the living dead and Ronald Weasley rolled out sideways with a thump.
The lucky youngsters, all over the British Isles, crammed their breakfast down their gullets and leapt into their un-ironed clothes, hardly bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, but fuelled with the knowledge of a new year waiting impatiently to begin.
Muggleborn and magical first-years alike felt their insides churn, wondering nervously what their new lives will bring.
As the clock ticked by, pupils began to arrive at King's Cross, hurriedly saying farewell to their parents and tossing trunks into overhead racks. Pandemonium was reigning on the crowded (muggle-free) platform as tearful families bid hasty goodbyes. The noise was deafening as people shouted to their friends, cried from inside the train to parents and guardians, pets screeched and protested at being caged.
Another year begins.