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𝖈𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝖙𝖍𝖎𝖗𝖙𝖞-𝖓𝖎𝖓𝖊:
𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔱𝔯𝔦𝔴𝔦𝔷𝔞𝔯𝔡 𝔱𝔬𝔲𝔯𝔫𝔞𝔪𝔢𝔫𝔱

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𝓐S THE HOGWARTS EXPRESS ROLLED ALONG THE TRACKS, the steady rhythm was almost hypnotic, a familiar sound that blended with the quiet chatter filling your compartment. The cold light slanted through the window, casting a dim glow over the five of you as conversation flowed.

Kyra had her legs tucked beneath her, her hands moving expressively as she spoke, each exaggerated gesture making her story more vivid. The way her eyes lit up with excitement made it almost easy to forget the sheer absurdity of what she was saying — almost.

Cho let out a laugh, shaking her head in disbelief, while Marietta simply raised an eyebrow, her expression caught between amusement and exasperation. As always, Luna listened with a serene expression, idly twisting a strand of her hair between her fingers.

"I still can't believe you tried to race a car" Cho laughed, shaking her head with a disbelieving laugh as her voice was laced with both incredulity and amusement.

Kyra scoffed, crossing her arms. "I wasn't racing it. I was just... running alongside it... For a little bit."

"You're lucky you didn't get run over," Marietta remarked, raising an eyebrow and giving her a skeptical look.

You tilted your head slightly with a teasing expression. "I think if the driver had truly been racing you, you wouldn't be here to tell the story."

Kyra threw her hands up, her frustration evident in every motion. "I wasn't racing it!" She repeated, her voice rising slightly as if sheer insistence would make you all believe her.

Listening quietly, Luna let out a soft hum, still twirling a strand of her hair between her fingers. "Maybe the car was racing you instead," she mused dreamily. "Perhaps it felt challenged."

Kyra blinked at her, momentarily thrown off. "See? That makes way more sense!" She exclaimed, pointing at Luna as if she had just provided the most logical explanation in the world.

Before anyone could press the argument further, a faint rattling noise carried through the corridor outside, followed by the soft, rhythmic creak of wheels rolling over the train's wooden floor. The sound was unmistakable. The conversation stilled as you all instinctively turned toward the compartment door.

"The trolley," Marietta announced, already moving to stand, her tone carrying the slightest hint of relief — whether from hunger or the escape from Kyra's questionable storytelling was unclear.

"Dibs on a Wizochoc bar and some Pumpkin Pasties," Cho declared, stretching as she adjusted her jacket before following Marietta.

"You always say that," you laughed with an amused smile, shaking your head as you slid open the door and stepped out into the corridor.

The Hogwarts Express was alive with movement, students moving between compartments in search of snacks, reconnecting after the summer, or peering out at the rolling countryside that blurred past the windows. The dim light of the sun streamed through the glass, casting long shadows on the polished wood. The mingling scents of sugar, warm pastries, and parchment filled the air as you and your friends made your way toward the trolley.

Luna walked beside you at her usual unhurried pace, her gaze drifting toward the window as if searching for something just beyond the fields.

You reached the trolley just as a group of younger students moved aside, their arms already full of sweets. Chocolate Frogs, Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans, Pumpkin Pasties — it was all there, waiting like a small feast on wheels. The sight alone made your stomach grumble slightly, a reminder that despite the nerves about returning to school, there was always something comforting about this part of the journey.

Hogwarts was just a few hours away, and for the first time since the summer began, it really felt like you were heading home.

As the trolley paused outside a compartment, you caught sight of Harry standing in the doorway, one hand tucked into the pocket of his jacket while the other hovered indecisively over the sweets. His gaze flickered between the Chocolate Frogs and a pack of treacle tarts, his lips pressing together in thought. The cold light filtering through the train windows cast soft highlights over his already messy hair, and a faint crease appeared between his brows as he debated his choice.

"Two Pumpkin Pasties, please," you called out, stepping forward as the kind old witch behind the trolley turned to you with a warm smile. "And two Wizochoc bars, please."

The kind old woman behind the trolley nodded, her wrinkled hands deftly wrapping up your selection as you reached into your pocket for a few galleons. The sound of clinking coins filled the air, and just as you passed them over, you felt a shift — like the quiet weight of someone's gaze lingering on you.

Glancing up, your eyes met Harry's. His blue gaze softened the instant recognition settled in. He had already been looking before you turned to him, and for a split second, he hesitated before offering a small, almost shy smile, and you returned it instinctively.

It wasn't anything grand, just a quiet moment shared in the middle of the bustling train ride back to Hogwarts, but something about it felt warm and familiar.

"Hey," he greeted, his voice a little quieter than usual.

"Hey," you echoed, tucking your sweets under your arm.

As you stepped back, securing your sweets in your arms, the sound of Kyra laughing somewhere behind you broke the moment, and Harry turned his attention back to the trolley. Yet, as you made your way back to your friends, you couldn't help but glance back one last time — only to find that he had done the same.

Making your way back to your compartment, the hum of conversation and laughter filled the narrow corridor. Kyra was still chuckling over something Marietta had said, her arm looped through Cho's as they walked ahead. Luna drifted beside you, absentmindedly tucking a strand of blonde hair behind her ear as she hummed softly to herself.

Marietta and Cho stopped for a moment, exchanging a few words with some people in a compartment. As you, Kyra, and Luna waited for them, your gaze started to wander.

Through the glass-paneled door, you caught sight of them — Blaise, lounging with his usual effortless elegance, his long fingers idly flipping a Chocolate Frog card between them. Lorenzo was deep in conversation with Daphne and Pansy, Pansy's gaze flickering toward the hallway every now and then. It seemed that Draco and Mattheo were off somewhere else.

And then there was Theodore.

He sat by the window, his posture relaxed but distant, staring out at the passing countryside. His sharp profile was illuminated by the light, but there was no warmth in his expression — just quiet detachment.

Just as you were about to pass, Blaise's gaze lifted, sharp and knowing, his lips twitching into a smirk. "Not going to say 'hi', (Y/n)?" He drawled, his voice smooth with amusement, stirring the butterflies in your stomach. Lorenzo, Pansy, and Daphne instantly looked at you as Lorenzo and Pansy gave you friendly smiles.

You tensed immediately, giving them a strained smile before ducking your head and stepping forward, but not before you caught a flicker of something in Theodore's expression — a slight shift in his gaze, though he still refused to look at you.

Your heart twisted slightly. It wasn't new, his avoidance, but that didn't make it any easier. Before the Quidditch World Cup, there had been something there — an unspoken understanding, late-night tutoring sessions stretching into conversations about books and theories. Now, he barely acknowledged you.

You pushed on, your grip tightening on your sweets as you forced yourself to keep moving, the echo of your exchange with the Slytherins still lingering in your mind. The train swayed gently beneath your feet as you maneuvered past groups of students, laughter and chatter filling the air around you.

Further down the corridor, through the window of an open compartment, a familiar mop of slightly tousled hair caught your attention. A small boy sat amidst a group of first-years, his hands gesturing animatedly as he spoke, his expression filled with eager excitement.

"Leon?" You murmured, momentarily forgetting everything else as you paused at the doorway. Kyra, Luna, Marietta, and Cho paused as they waited for you, recognizing the familiarity of the name you spoke.

Your younger brother turned at the sound of your voice, his eyes flickering with recognition. "Oh, (Y/n)."

Glancing around, you took in the eager faces of the first-years sitting beside him. One of them, a freckled boy with oversized robes, was fumbling with a Chocolate Frog wrapper, his fingers prying it open with wide-eyed anticipation. Another — a girl with neatly braided hair — listened intently to whatever story Leon had been telling, her hands clasped in her lap as if she didn't want to interrupt.

"You made friends already?" You asked, raising a brow.

Leon leaned back slightly, shooting you a look that was equal parts amused and exasperated. "Something like that," he admitted with a slight shrug, but the way one of the first-years grinned at him told you that he was already fitting in just fine.

Despite everything, it seemed like he was settling in better than you had expected. "Good," you hummed softly, giving him a small smile. Adjusting the sweets in your arms, you nodded toward him. "I'll see you at the feast, alright?"

"Yeah," he grinned, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Try not to embarrass yourself before we even get there."

You rolled your eyes before continuing forward with your friends. As you turned the corner, the compartment ahead was anything but quiet. Laughter rang through the hallway, and your breath caught slightly when you spotted a familiar head of red hair.

Fred was leaning against the doorway, arms crossed, a cocky grin on his face as he listened to George recount something wildly exaggerated, no doubt. Ginny sat beside them, shaking her head fondly as she nibbled on a Cauldron Cake.

You hesitated, an unsteady feeling settling in your stomach. It wasn't as if Fred had done anything wrong — in fact, that was the problem. A couple of months ago, you'd found yourself increasingly aware of him, of the way he always seemed to know exactly how to make people laugh, of the effortless charm in his lopsided grins. And worse, of how you had no idea what to do with yourself around him.

"(Y/n)!" George's voice rang out over the lively hum of the train corridor, his signature grin firmly in place as he waved you over. "You weren't just gonna keep on walking, were you?" He asked, feigning offense as you hesitated near the compartment door.

Lounging against the frame with a casual ease, Fred turned at his twin's words. His bright eyes landed on you, his expression unreadable for a brief second before a familiar smirk tugged at his lips.

"Of course not," you scoffed, rolling your eyes in mock exasperation, though you knew full well they had caught you mid-debate on whether to stop or keep moving.

"She's probably got better things to do than listen to you two go on about whatever prank you've got planned this time," Ginny piped up, arms crossed as she eyed her brothers with the unimpressed look only a younger sister could perfect.

Fred let out a dramatic gasp, clutching his chest as if Ginny had wounded him. "Or maybe she's here to get a sneak preview."

You scoffed, shifting the sweets in your arms. "Hardly," you shot back, though you couldn't help but grin.

George let out a thoughtful hum, tapping his chin as he gave you a once-over. "Deny all you like, but I reckon you'd make an excellent test subject."

"For what, exactly?" You asked warily.

Ginny laughed. "Don't ask. That's how they get you."

Fred leaned forward slightly, a playful glint in his eye. "C'mon, (Y/n), where's your sense of adventure?"

"Firmly in check whenever you two are involved," you replied, grinning.

Their laughter filled the small space, a mix of mischief and warmth. Despite your protests, you knew you'd probably end up hearing about their newest prank sooner or later — whether you wanted to or not.

Before they could say anything else, you gave them a quick goodbye and hurried off, heat rising to your cheeks at the interaction with Fred. As you returned to Kyra, Luna, Cho, and Marietta just a bit down the corridor, Kyra took a moment to stop listening to Marietta's words and she observed you.

Kyra's gaze flickered over your shoulder, taking in Fred's lingering figure in the Weasley's compartment, before returning to you with a knowing smirk. She arched a brow, her expression teasing. You simply shook your head, unwilling to indulge whatever thought had just crossed her mind.

But before you could fully recover from the silent exchange, a voice cut through the corridor — sharp, dripping with condescension, and far too familiar.

"Well, well," Alexia drawled, her tone laced with false amusement. She stood leaning against the wall, arms crossed, her usual group of friends positioned like a well-trained entourage. The predatory glint in her eyes sent a chill straight down your spine. "Look who's making the rounds. Mudblood Murray and her mutts."

The words hit like a slap, and you stiffened, your grip tightening on the sweets in your hands. Slowly, you lifted your gaze, meeting Alexia's cool, calculating stare.

"Back to Hogwarts and already trying to be everyone's favorite, huh?" She continued, a slow, satisfied smirk curling across her lips.

Kyra shifted beside you, her stance firm as she crossed her arms. "At least I don't need a pack of followers to feel important."

Alexia's smirk faltered — just for a second — before she let out a scoffing laugh. "Please, spare me the lecture." Then her eyes slid back to you, sharp and shining with cruel amusement. "Try not to embarrass yourself this year, (Y/n). I'd hate to have to witness another one of your little accidents."

Your jaw clenched. Heat rose in your chest, a response half-formed on your tongue, but before you could get a word out, you felt a gentle tug on your arm.

"Come on," Cho murmured, her voice quiet yet firm. "She's not worth it."

She was right — you knew she was right — but that didn't stop the frustration from simmering beneath your skin. With one last glance at Alexia's smug expression, you turned on your heel, letting Kyra huff in frustration beside you.

"She's unbearable," Kyra muttered under her breath, practically vibrating with irritation.

You let out a slow exhale, as if trying to breathe out the tension weighing on your shoulders. "Tell me about it."

Finally, you reached your compartment and slid the door shut behind you. Only then did you allow yourself to relax, leaning back against the seat as the train rumbled on toward Hogwarts.

And yet, despite the excitement of the new school year, you already felt exhausted.

The Hogwarts Express hissed as it came to a halt, steam curling in thick clouds past the windows. The train doors groaned open, and students began spilling onto the platform, the air filled with excited chatter and the occasional shriek from an owl ruffled by the sudden movement. The air was crisp, the scent of damp stone and pine filling your lungs as you stepped down onto the platform, your bag slung over one shoulder.

Everyone was still in their casual clothes, holding onto the last moments of summer before the school year truly began. Some were already retrieving their trunks, while first-years gathered nervously near Hagrid, their wide eyes darting around as they whispered among themselves.

Catching sight of a familiar trio, you veered away from your roommates and wandered toward Dean, Neville, and Seamus, the easy familiarity of their presence grounding you.

"Ah, feels good to be back," Seamus sighed, stretching his arms above his head as he inhaled deeply. "Smell that? That's the scent of adventure."

Dean laughed, arms crossed as he casted an unimpressed look around the platform. "That's the scent of wet train tracks and a thousand sweaty students crammed together for hours."

Struggling with his trunk, Neville appeared to have finally managed to steady it. He looked up just in time to catch your amused expression and, despite himself, a small, bashful smile tugged at his lips. He didn't say anything, but his fingers fidgeted with the strap of his bag, his gaze flickering toward you more than once.

"Don't ruin the magic, Dean," you chuckled, shaking your head in mock disapproval. "Let Seamus have his moment."

Seamus shot you a triumphant grin. "Finally, someone who understands me."

You laughed, rolling your eyes, completely unaware of the way Dean's posture subtly shifted at the sound of it. His usual easygoing expression faltered for just a second, replaced by something softer, something unspoken.

As the four of you stood there, the hum of students and the distant sound of carriages filling the air, you felt the familiar warmth of Hogwarts settling over you. No matter what the summer had held — no matter what had happened at the Quidditch World Cup — there was still something reassuring about being here, standing on the platform among friends, knowing the castle awaited beyond the mist.

Neville adjusted the strap on his shoulder, risking another glance in your direction before quickly looking away. Dean stole a fleeting look at you too, his hands shoved into his pockets, as if steadying himself.

"I'll see you lot in the Great Hall," you told them, adjusting the strap of your bag.

Dean gave you a lazy salute, Seamus grinned, and Neville waved before returning his focus to his trunk,