The Buddy System. *Updating In Process*

1. Return to Hogwarts

Heat rose to my cheeks at the memory.

No. Nope. Not going there. I shook my head sharply, banishing the thought before my imagination could wander down a path it absolutely didn't need to.

Raelyn, I scolded myself silently, he probably doesn't even remember you exist.

The familiar tightness curled in my chest again—sharp, sudden, and entirely unwelcome. It had been happening often lately, that strange jolt of pain I'd come to associate with loneliness, grief, and the kind of heartbreak that didn't stem from romance, but from life itself.

I pressed a hand against my ribs, steadying my breathing as the platform outside erupted with movement. The train let out a long, shrill whistle—the final warning. Parents pulled their children in for last-minute hugs, siblings shouted goodbyes, and the last stragglers rushed aboard in a flurry of cloaks and trunks.

The sound of laughter echoed faintly through the open windows, blending with the rustle of owl wings and the rumble of the train's engine as it prepared to depart. Through it all, I sat in my empty compartment, watching it unfold like someone peering into a world that used to belong to them but no longer did.

Families waved.

Students called out promises to write.

The doors slid shut.

And I remained alone with the lingering ache in my chest and the ghost of a blond boy who didn't even know the effect he had on me.

Final checks were called out along the platform, and the train lurched gently as it began to pull away from the station. I let out a slow breath, sinking back into my seat. The view outside blurred into streaks of brick and smoke.

Reaching into my bag, I pulled out Little Women—my favourite book, worn soft from years of rereading. The familiarity of the story usually calmed me, and I needed that now. I had barely read the first paragraph when the compartment door slid open with a soft click.

I glanced up—and immediately recognized the girl standing in the doorway.

Pansy Parkinson.

She held herself differently than I remembered. Gone was the sharp, confident tilt to her chin, the haughty sneer she often wore in earlier years. Instead, she stared at the floor, her hands twisting nervously in the strap of her bag.

"Do you mind?" she asked quietly. "Everywhere else is full."

The simple vulnerability in her voice made something twist in my chest. It must be hard—coming back after the war. People talked about the Death Eaters' children as though they were monsters too, but they were just kids who'd been raised in a world that demanded loyalty and fear in equal measure. Some had made terrible choices. Some had been given none.

They were still children. Like me.

Pansy had never said a word to me one way or the other during school. She wasn't particularly kind, but she'd never targeted me either. And right now she looked... lost.

"Not at all," I said, offering her a small smile.

She glanced up, surprised, then returned the smile—soft, hesitant.

"Come on, boys," she called behind her as she stepped inside and set her bag on the rack.

Two figures followed her in. One slid into the seat beside her with an easy grace—Blaise Zabini. The second sat beside me, and even before I turned, I knew who he was.

Draco Malfoy.

He moved quietly, like someone trying not to disturb the air itself. He didn't look at me, not yet. His posture was rigid, his eyes lowered, his hands clasped tightly in his lap.