Chapter 8 - Train Ride

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"Let's get a cabin." Lars said turning and going down the hall. The floor was shaking with the movement of the train. Lars moved down without opening any of the doors. Thomas could hear laughter and happy conversations happening beyond the frosted train doors. Trailing beyond Lars, he didn't question where he was going. The vision he had Lars took the night to explain it more to him. While his parents slept.

Lars explained that what he saw would lead to a deadly end — if drastic turns weren't taking. Thomas agreed to follow along, as long as he was in the loop.He worried about Lars, and wanted to help him more, but Thomas was a people watcher. Lars acted different when he tried to pry more details out of him. His eyes grew cold, his shoulders stiffened and his words bordered on a lie. Thomas would rather be at his side with half-answer's than be away from him without any.

Thomas felt, no knew that Lars would drive him away. If that fixed things, stop things. Watching that back walking away from him. He felt he was looking at the Old Man's back. Lars knew more than he would say, and said more than you could figure out. Perhaps, that's why it was easier for Thomas to go with it. He was used to it.

"Here we are." Lars opened up the door on the last door.

"You don't mind sharing, do you? Everywhere else was full." Lars asked, smiling at whoever was inside. Entering he saw a boy look tall even while sitting. His pale face framed in straight sliver blonde hair. His bangs, pinned back with a clip, his honey brown eyes looked sad but that didn't stop him from appearing cute. Was he even a boy — cute?

"Already in your school robes?" Lars said getting himself a window seat.

"Uh, yes." The blonde boy hesitated. Not looking Lars in the eyes, and picking at the black slacks beneath his black robes. Pants meant he was boy, Thomas gave an inward sigh of relieve. Lars saved him from a rather embarrassing talk. Sitting beside Lars the boys darted up and stop right at Lars face.

"Your from Ireland?" The golden brown eyes looked as curious as they did timid.

"Originally, but my family moved to England. That way I could attend Hogwarts with Thomas." Lars said. Thomas knew that they had moved to England to pick up Thomas, but to attend Hogwarts specifically? That was never brought up.

"Hogwarts take students from Ireland." The boy's voice kept to a soft tone, but sounded confident. Lars shook his head.

"We are on the wrong side. My folks went to Durmstrang." Lars grimaced. "It's gotten better over the years, but not a place my parents felt that I or Thomas should attend."

"It does have a certain..." The blonde boy paused. "Reputation."

"They are many good people there, but why take chances." Lars shrugged his shoulders.

"What is wrong with Durmstrang?" Thomas asked, wanting to know more. He thought Aunt Merry would want to send Lars to her old school. He could see her getting all excited about it and reminiscing.

"It's known for its focus on dark arts." Lars said, his eyes narrowing in thought.

"Hogwarts has a dark arts class." Thomas said, thinking to the defence of the dark arts books he had picked up together with Uncle Liam.

"That's defence against." The blond boy spoke up. "Durmstrang. Is known for teaching it or at least something that borders on the dark arts themselves."

"My parents were lucky, they had were strong; but others." Lars shook his head. "Let's say some old habits die hard."

"Using magic to hurt others. I can't image it." The blonde boy paled at bit and looked out the window. He looked like he wanted to escape through it, a feeling that Thomas could relate too. "It's very much like Slytherin."

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