Summer was shit, per usual. In all honesty, I don't know why I even allow myself to debate the possibility of it not being a shitshow.
Kings Cross is always a relieving sight, the first sign of ten months without having to be at home for a single second. The moment it comes into view I feel my shoulders relax.
Platforms nine and ten are absolutely brimming with people, the majority being muggles. Mothers pushing colourful prams with crying children inside and older men and women with decorated salt and peppered hair briskly move past me, rushing to catch the last train to their corporate jobs. The others I recognise, other witches and wizards.
"Why do you have to walk so fucking fast?" Mattheo complains beside me. Having a twin has its pros and cons, being with them 24/7 happens to fall under both of those categories.
"I can always go faster," I say to him, picking up my pace, much to his dismay.
The arched brick wall is just a few steps ahead of us, I grip my hands tightly around my trolley, this part is always the worst. Closing my eyes shut, I run forward into the brick, instantly transported to platform nine and three quarters. I cough while fanning away the billowing engine smoke from my face as it stings my eyes. Mattheo comes out the wall right after me, nearly slamming his trolley into the backs of my legs. Once the smoke clears, my vision returns and I can immediately see two figures dashing toward me, their ankle-length coats flowing behind them.
Before I can even open my mouth to greet him, Lionel's body slams directly against mine, almost causing both of us to fall to the floor. He's known to hug tightly, making it slightly difficult to breathe. He sighs into my neck, holding me off the floor, squeezing me tightly once more before allowing me to get back on solid ground. "Damn Lionel, let me at least say hi first," I chuckle after taking a deep breath.
"Hey Cella," he says, smiling at me from ear-to-ear.
Lionel steps aside to allow the second person to say hi to me, Blaise Zabini. "Cella! Fuck, I missed you." He embraces me as well, admittedly gentler than Lionel. When we let go, he takes a step back and for a moment I think he's looking me up and down. Though, I ignore the possibility of that being the case.
"I missed you both as well. Mum was a nightmare as always, we couldn't get away from her fast enough," I add a slight laugh after the last word, my way of making sure my problems stay my own. One can only share so much with their friends before they get too concerned for my liking. It's easier to just keep it all in.
"Did you guys forget about me?" Mattheo complains behind me.
"Of course not, mate," Lionel goes behind me and gives him a hug as well.
"Cella's right, she was particularly nightmarish this year."
Lionel fixes his coat, having gotten rumpled from our embraces, a deep green which I can't say I'm surprised he's chosen. "Well, I for one would love to continue this conversation, I love when you talk shit."
"Talking shit happens to be my specialty," Mattheo smirks at him.
"We need to get these in the luggage compartment first." My trolley is packed full. I have three black trunks, sadly engraved with the Black family emblem, a crossover bag, and my owl, a black bird named Vila with a pecking problem.
Vila is shorthand for Vilis, fuck you in Latin. Suffice to say mother would be unhappy if she figured that one out. But if she can treat me like rubbish, then I will certainly indulge in these small acts of rebellion, if only for personal satisfaction.
I grab my bag off the top of the trolley and sling it across my body, getting ready to move to the storage cart before Blaise says, "No worries," while slightly pushing himself in front of me to push my trolley instead. "I'll get it, you two head on and get our compartment settled."
"What Blaise, not being gentlemanly to me as well?" Mattheo acts fake offended.
"Suck it up, Riddle," Blaise says, already walking away with my trolley before I can insist otherwise.
"I can do it myself you know!" I shout after him, already out of earshot.
Lionel glances in my direction, shooting me a confused but satisfied face. "Blaise has certainly changed."
"You can say that again, not like him to do that, not that I'm complaining."
"Well, he was acting strange whist we were waiting for you and Mattheo as well. Talk about a fast-developing crush."
I genuinely cannot tell if he's joking or not. "Zabini can crush all he wants, reciprocation is not happening," I scoff. Before Lionel can elaborate, we step onto the Hogwarts Express. Slytherin house always gets the last carriage, and our group always get the compartment at the very back of the train.
It's nice not to have to deal with first years, one of the joys of having separate compartments for each house and the newcomers. I'm all for interhouse unity, but in small increments. Having some time reserved solely for my Slytherin mates remains the constant highlight of our first day back.
The corridor isn't as busy as other years, everyone seems to have already settled into their respective groups, each taking up a room. Luckily our group has jurisdiction over the final compartment, rumours spread about it being ours when last year Draco used an Entomorphis jinx on a second year, turning their eyelashes into insect feelers. They fled instantly and now we have claim over the room.
It's empty when we arrive. If the rest of us stick to our past trends of arrival, Draco will get here next, followed by Pansy shortly after, and Theo last. He's known for putting things off until the last minute, from essays to arrival and everything in between.
The room is covered in green, as nearly all things Slytherin are. There's enough room to tightly seat nine, and comfortably house the seven in our group. Unlike all other compartments, there are two windows. One on the side of the train, the other at the back of it. It's one of the reasons we've chosen this as our own, nearly everyone in our group is fond of staring out windows, watching our families grow further from us, taking in a shaking breathe when we realise we are free from their manipulation for the next ten months.
Slytherin green velvet cushions, black wallpaper, silver edging on the window frames, and a silver overhead storage rack. A room fit for a group of pretentious teens. In fact, it was Draco's dad, my uncle, who provided the school with the money for this most recent train upgrade, Only the best for the Malfoy's and company.
I grab my wallet and wand from my bag before setting it above us on the storage rack. Lionel puts away his bag as well, removing his wand and phone.
"So..." he begins, a mischievous tone taking over his voice, "Do you want to talk about what that whole Blaise thing was, or shall we pretend it didn't happen?"
"Yeah, I'll go for option two." I say this knowing he'll be persistent in discussing it regardless of my response.
"Option one you said? Perfect, so that was fucking weird. It's like he randomly began crushing on you out of nowhere over the summer..." Lionel trails off, internally debating the situation.
"Well puberty certainly is a bitch," I comment, reaching into my shallow pockets to fish out my phone. I shoot Pansy a quick text, wondering when she plans on sauntering in here.
"Oh, because hormones are the only plausible reason he would like you, right?"
Rolling my eyes at Lionel, I turn my phone off, placing it beside me on the velvet cushion so I can feel it vibrate when Pansy replies.
"In case you haven't noticed, Riddle. You're hot." He opens his mouth to continue but pauses when I burst out laughing. "Oh, as if you didn't notice the way he checked you out back there."
I raise my eyebrows at him, "Blaise was doing NO such thing." The more we talk about this subject, the more I find myself doubting the words coming out of my mouth,
"He totally was. And for good reason, you've developed over the summer, Cella."
"Developed?"
"I'm gay, not blind."
"And I'm done with this conversation!" I say, smiling brightly at him, I reek of sarcasm, and it's not even been a day back.
"We can table it."
Checking my phone another time, I say, "Look, Lionel. Even if Blaise saw me like that, it would NOT be reciprocated. He's like my fucking brother. I've known him even before Hogwarts, it's so weird to even think about him seeing me that way, let alone it possibly being reality."
"Okay okay," Lionel says, holding his arms up in mock surrender. "But good luck finding a relationship if you refuse to be with someone you've practically grown up with, we've all known each other since we were eleven."
I open my mouth to object, but the reopening of our compartment door solidifies our tabling of the discussion. "More first years every fucking year. Barely can move through the damned platform let alone actually get on this nightmarish train."
"That was quite the introduction Draco, you seem to be in a fantastic mood." Lionel smiles at Draco regardless of his demeanour.
"Hard to be joyous when so many crying children spoil the atmosphere. Anyway, hello, hope you had a good summer and all that other expected introductory shit."
"At least now we have four straight hours of silence from said crying first-years," I point out.
Draco seems to consider this for a moment, "You make a good point, Cella."
"I always do."
A comfortable silence rests over our compartment, broken up every few seconds as Draco adjusts his briefcase above us. Because yes, Draco Malfoy is entirely deciding to live up to looking the pureblood stereotype, pretentious baggage, and all.
He sits down closest to the door, facing the second window looking out the back of the train. Draco appears to be looking around for someone when he says, "Blaise and Mattheo get lost or something?"
And of course, Lionel takes this opportunity to share his thoughts on Blaise's apparent summer development, "Not lost, just off being a gentleman." Draco raises his eyebrows in confusion as he runs a hand through his hair, "He took it upon himself to take care of Cella's luggage."
He grabs his phone from the pocket of his dark grey trousers, "Why the fuck is he doing that for?" Draco unlocks his phone and starts scrolling, not even looking up at Lionel. When he doesn't say anything in response, Draco looks up, jaw slightly slacked open, "No." His statement full of disbelief.
Lionel has a horribly enthusiastic smirk on his face, "YES."
Draco looks over at me, seated on the other end of our side of the cushioned bench, I roll my eyes. "Zabini has a fucking crush, on her?"
"I'm not sure I appreciate that tone, Draco," I joke.
"Seems to be the case," Lionel says, interrupting me. He unlocks his phone and says, "Speaking of Blaise, he and Mattheo are taking an awful long time." He begins texting furiously, assumably to either Mattheo or Blaise.
"He absolutely does not, he's just being extra nice because I haven't seen him in two months."
Draco scoffs, "I guess I'll see for myself when he gets here and starts acting like an obsessed twat."
Just as he finishes his statement, Blaise pops up outside. The compartment door slides open, and he steps in, smiling first at me and then toward Draco. They do that weird handshake all guys seem to know out the womb, grasping hands and then pulling slightly toward each other. "Malfoy, how was your summer?" He asks, moving into the room and sitting opposite Draco.
They give each other a slight rundown on what they got up to. We all try to talk throughout the summer, but our family lives typically inhibit these efforts. I for one texted when I could, which wasn't as often as I would have liked. Though, I suppose that's to be expected with a mother like Bella.
I tune out their conversation, of which Mattheo has now joined, seated in between Blaise and Lionel opposite Draco and me. Instead of listening, I look at Blaise, who is paying strict attention to Draco's descriptions.
Only when he walked in the room did I notice the changes he was blessed with over summer. He stands taller now, 5"10 or 11 is my best guess. He has grown some slight facial hair; he appears freshly shaven but a barely noticeable stubble lines the bottom half of his face. Now that I notice it, Draco, Mattheo, and Lionel have this as well. All their jawlines appear suddenly sharpened as well, though Draco's is the most defined. Blaise's hair is cut close to his head. Draco's allowed his to grow out and finally (finally) seems to have thrown away the hair gel in exchange for a freer haircut. Some of the hair falls over his face, he now has to brush it out of his eyes every few minutes in order to see. It's harder for me to recognise changes in Mattheo, being with him all the time lessens the surprise or shock at any dramatic changes he may make. But in not seeing the others for two months, except in their bi-monthly Instagram posts, the changes are much more evident.
Lionel, on the other hand, seems to not have many changes. He looks more grown up if anything, but his hairstyle has stayed the same, just longer throughout. He must have done a highlight charm on his hair as well, the brunet hair has a few honey toned streaks that blend in well. Glamour charms aid all.
Pansy's appearance in the doorway snaps me back to reality. I look down at my phone and only just now see a text sent to me five minutes ago, "Yeah, I'll be there soon, mums making a fuss about my luggage like normal. Give me five minutes." As usual, Pansy is true to her word, punctuality is key in the Parkinson family.
"Hey," I say, my face brightening now that I have someone not drenched in testosterone to speak to.
She has a new bag this year, a crossover bag like mine. Though while the one I own is black and quite large, hers is a deep green and much smaller. Like the rest of my friends, she's slightly changed over the summer. Her hair has (impossibly) grown longer, the dark black hair is shining with a new hair treatment I remember her mentioning the last time we spoke over the phone, which was over a month ago. It's done good for her, last year she tried dying her hair and it absolutely fried it. It's miraculous what a high-end hair mask can do.
She's only grown a bit, resting at around 5"4 now, just two inches shorter than myself. In Lionel's words, she's developed as well. I'm not blind either.
"Finally, I've been dying to talk to you," she quickly moves into the compartment, shutting the door behind her. Pansy sits beside me, and our knees touch, sending a strange throb to my stomach. I can't believe I'm anxious about talking to her again. "You haven't texted me in over a month, what the fuck happened?"
I find I don't have much to say in response. The real answer is that Bella, mine, and Mattheo's mother, hates technology. It's the twenty-first century and she refuses to even get a landline. So, when she realised Mattheo and I had both bought phones during a Hogsmeade trip in second year, she was livid. In all honesty it's a miracle she didn't find them beforehand. We were both insanely proud of our hiding abilities. Bella took them immediately when she found them. Smashing both on the table, right in front of us.
One of the best aspects of coming from a ridiculously rich family, as bigoted as our ancestors and many current relatives are, is the endless supply of cold hard cash. Mattheo and I stole off to central London and had new phones by the next week. Thing is, I had forgotten Pansy's number and locked myself out of my social media accounts.
I only got it all sorted out three days ago, and quickly rebuilt my phone back to its predecessor. Re-entering all my contacts and downloading all my apps.
"Well, you know how Bella is with technology." I don't feel like elaborating, so I leave her to imagine the rest.
Pansy blows out a huff of air while she stands up to put her bag above us. She picks out her wallet and feels on her coat for her wand, which she also pulls out. "Yeah, your mum is a bitch."
Anyone else may stick up for their family, but I can't argue with the truth. Bella is a right bitch.
Mattheo lets out a sudden laugh, nearly choking on it, "You can say that again."
Unlike me, Mattheo fully enjoys discussing our home life, as he said, talking shit is his specialty.
Mattheo goes into a spiel about how much he hates our mother and only recently discovered not to be dead father for all they've contributed. In front of anyone else, my brother wouldn't bring this up, but our friends understand what it's like to come from a family who love to indulge in their dark sides. As the years go by, we all find ourselves having to try harder and harder to get away from their attempts to drag us into their darkness as well. We made a pact last year that we would do everything we could to stop that from ever happening. And as far as I know, we've all stuck to that, for now.
After not even three minutes of listening to Mattheo, Pansy turns her attention back to me. "So, your summer consisted of your nightmare mum, a new phone, and summer assignments?"
"Yes, such an incredible summer, I know."
She laughs at my sarcasm and before I can even identify the sudden strange feeling in my stomach, it subsides, and I simply smile at her ability to find humour in any and all situations.
The room descends into quiet again before Draco breaks it, "Theodore still hasn't arrived. He'll miss the bloody train at this rate." As he says this, two more children run toward the train, it'll leave in under three minutes now.
Scoffing, Mattheo says, "Theo is the human embodiment of procrastination, he'll definitely be here."
"I'll bet you five galleons that the first thing he says will be asking if anyone has anything to smoke," I offer, knowing I have a 50/50 chance in winning this bet.
"You're on. My guess is he'll greet us first," Blaise says.
"I applaud you for giving him the benefit of the doubt, Blaise," I say, fishing out the coins from my wallet.
"I'll bet two galleons he curses in the first sentence," Pansy adds, revealing the two coins in the palm of her hand.
"He won't, you lot really don't think too highly of him, do you?" Draco asks, pulling out money to bet against Pansy.
"I'm not getting into this, I'll play mediator when you guys inevitably start arguing about who wins the money," Lionel says, leaning onto his knees.
Outside, the train's whistle goes off, ready for departure.
"Well, if he's not on now I guess we'll see him in a few days," Mattheo says.
The six of us sit in silence as the train pulls out from the platform, nobody speaks as we wait for Theo to show up. Mattheo and I have known him for the longest, so I'd like to think we know him the best, I'm moving my chances of winning up to 60/40 in confidence.
Sure enough, Theo appears in front of the closed door, not even looking up at us as he opens it with his free hand. Have they all truly grown so much over only two months? Theo looks like he's nearing six feet, I suppose I should get used to having to look up to talk to all of my male friends. Being sixteen is a definite time for growth. His hair has grown out too, longer still than Draco's. He has his phone in one hand, a black bag with a long strap strung over his shoulder, and his classic tangled up white earbuds blasting music so loud I can hear it even though it's not coming from his phone speakers.
Still without looking at anybody, he shuts the door and pulls down the seat that connects to it, taking the last space. Theo sets his bag down beside him and immediately slumps backward until he is almost falling off the chair. Having apparently now noticed that other people exist beside himself, he reaches his free hand up to his ear and taken one headphone out, "Any of you motherfuckers have nicotine?"
Well, at least he has the etiquette to smile while asking rudely.
I let out a deep laugh from my stomach, holding my hand out toward Blaise, "Pay up Zabini."
With a roll of his eyes, he drops five galleons in my hand which I deposit in the coin pouch of my wallet.
"Why does he owe you money already?" Theo asks, genuinely confused.
"They bet on you, mate," Draco explains for us.
"Bet on me doing what?" He sits up slightly.
"Cella said you would ask for a smoke before greeting us, so Blaise owed her five galleons, and Pansy said you would curse in your first sentence so," He points at Draco, "He owes Pansy two galleons."
"Excellent memory, Lionel," Pansy says, holding out an expectant hand to Draco.
He playfully scoffs and drops the coins in her hand, making a slight rattling sound as he does so.
"So... is that a yes or a no on that smoke question..." Theo asks, not particularly caring that Pansy and I just made money off his ridiculousness.
"Course, mate," Draco says, pulling out a carton from his pocket.
We all developed this habit last year when Pansy stole a pack off a sixth year who pissed her off. Theo and Draco prefer cigarettes, Lionel and Mattheo choose vapes, and the other three of us don't mind where our smoke comes from, so long as we have some kind of nicotine intake.
I grab my current vape from my left pocket, strawberry flavoured, and take a few hits before passing it around to the rest of us, everyone but Draco and Theo take a few hits. I inhale deeply, resting my head on the cushion behind me as I allow the others of my group to get their fix.
Before coming here, I went a bit crazy at the corner shop. The man who works it doesn't seem to care about my age so long as I flirt with him for a few seconds. Gross, yes. But in the grand scheme of things, I can spare five minutes of my times for two boxes of ten vapes each. I'll sell one box and then slowly work through the second until Hogsmeade trips start up again.
Theo pulls one from the carton and snaps to light the end of it, a trick he learnt last year while he was meant to be studying for our final exams.
He takes a long puff from it, closing his eyes while breathing in. Theo takes the other earbud out and appears to actually want to engage in conversation.
Theo joins in on casual conversation with Blaise, Draco, and Mattheo as he continues his cig. Pansy views this is a post opportunity and quickly takes her phone out, snapping a photo of Theo with the cigarette still balancing between his lips. She tilts her phone over to me to share the final shot which I nod at in response.
After seeing my approval, she opens her Instagram, switching from her personal to our group account.
This whole secondary group account was developed last year during a party. Pansy got wasted and Blaise, our designated sober friend for the night, neglected to nick her phone, far too busy with trying to coax Lionel off the table in the centre of the room. She made a new Instagram account and chose the username "bestofshouse." Or she tried to, at least. We had to wait a month to change the username to what it is now, people shouldn't be trusted to spell while drunk.
Surprisingly enough, we kept at posting on it. It's private now, though we have still somehow amassed over five thousand followers, all of magic blood. Due to the statute of secrecy, all social media accounts run by those in the magical community need to be private and meticulously watched to ensure the statute does not become violated. Some peers from houses other than Slytherin follow us, but only if we've deemed them trustworthy enough not to betray us.
"What are you captioning that?" I ask her, leaning my head over to look at her screen.
"I'm thinking 'fucking fiend'?" Pansy turns her head to look at me, tilting it sideway. A smirk takes up the lower half of her face as she asks, waiting for my reaction.
I stammer out a reply, "Yeah, really fits him."
I don't know what's gotten into me this year. Fourth year was great, we were all just really close friends who only ever saw each other as that: friends. But something changed over the summer. Maybe it's just me, some kind of alteration in my brain chemistry that I can't quite seem to pinpoint.
But I know one thing for certain, Pansy got attractive. Like, really attractive. It's not that she wasn't pretty before, she's always been rather gorgeous. It just seems so much more noticeable this year, for a reason I just can't quite identify yet. Her lips have a thin layer of red lipstick that she must have applied early on in the morning as it seems much less vibrant than it should be. Honestly, I prefer it that way, the smudged-out lipstick look really suits her.
I've been staring at her lips for too long, fuck.
Forcing myself to look at anything else, I turn my focus back to her phone just as Pansy hits post.
The guys don't seem to be too worried about anything else beside their conversation and having heard nearly all of their summer stories already, or at least the ones I care to be told about, I suggest Pansy and I go out to find the sweet trolley.
"Fancy a sugar quill?"
She tucks her phone into her pocket and stands up, "Always." I stand up to join her and ask Nott to move. We've been on the train for forty minutes now, though it's only been moving for half of that time. Theo stands up and walks over to the side window and opens it, tossing his cigarette out before closing the window again.
"Classy," Mattheo remarks, no malice behind his words.
"Do you guys want anything sweet?" Pansy asks.
Theo pulls a galleon from his shirt pocket, a white button-up, and passes it to her, "Surprise me."
"Anyone else?" I ask before we leave.
Lionel throws me a coin which I just barely catch, "Would love a packet of sherbet lemons, please."
"Such nice manners," Pansy adds before we close the door behind us, a dig at Theo's choice of language. "She should be just at the front of the carriage, right?" She sets off walking that direction.
"I would think so," I say, following behind Pansy.
"Do you know what you'll get?"
"I think I'll stick with a sugar quill. What are you going to get Theo?"
"Every Flavour Beans."
"Theo's favourite," I agree.
She laughs again and the sound makes my heart soar. Her reactions to me feel different this year, or perhaps I'm just enjoying them more than in years past.
The woman pushing the sweet trolley is just up ahead, thankfully no queue to get anything. "Hello ladies, what can I get you?"
Pansy speaks for the both of us, "Five sugar quills, a sachet of sherbet lemon, and a container of Bertie Bott's please." She passes over the money, and I help her carry our sweets back to the cart, we walk slowly. "So, Blaise huh?"
"What about him?"
"He's- changed, over the summer."
"Yep, they all grew like four inches and facial hair."
"You know that's not what I mean."
"Do I?"
"You're not an oblivious person, Cella. He's obviously into you. He won't stop staring and his pupils are fucking huge."
"Maybe he's just high."
"Yeah, high on his love for you." She points her free hand at me, touching her fingertip to my forehead.
"I do not want to date Blaise Zabini."
"Why not? If you don't mind me asking. He's hot, tall, and you know him well already. Bingo, you've kind of hit the jackpot here."
"Exactly, I've known him for so damn long. Almost as long as I've known Mattheo. My fucking brother. Dating Blaise would be like dating Mattheo, which makes me genuinely sick to my fucking stomach."
"Okay, okay. Good luck with that, you know how Blaise gets when he wants something."
And I do. I really do.
Last year during the Triwizard Tournament, Draco was intent on making these pins that criticised Potter. He and Blaise worked on them for weeks. Blaise, of course, became much more invested in it than Draco. He knew he wanted to create a spell that when someone tried to charm it into saying nicer things about Harry, the insults just kept on getting worse. Draco gave up a single day into the research. Blaise, ever intent on succeeding, stayed up for 96 hours straight until he collapsed on his way up the common room stairs. In the end, he figured it out, but it really was not worth the two nights Pomfrey made him taken in the infirmary.
So, yes, Blaise is determined to get what he wants. I can't tell if that excites or scares me. Yes, it will be fun to witness his efforts on getting to me, but I also don't want him to even try. All it will do is fuck up the bond we already have.
And he doesn't even fucking like me in the first place. I refuse to believe it until he acts otherwise. Simply helping me with luggage and offering me a smile or two doesn't mean anything. It's simply what friends do.
Pansy opens the compartment door and walks in, passing sweets to Lionel and Theo. "These damn beans? That's the best surprise you could get him?" Mattheo complains.
"Nah fuck that dude, this is the best one she could have gotten me. Thanks Pans."
"No way you actually enjoy those, Theo." Lionel says, pursing his lips in disgust.
"The grass flavour is the best one." Theo walks over to the door to close it and pull his seat back out before beginning to search through the container for the green jellybeans.
"You truly are gross, Nott," Draco remarks.
"Do any of you want sugar quills? We got enough for all of us," Pansy chooses her flavour, grape, and passes me the orange one. Draco picks out the green coloured one, apple, Mattheo chooses Cherry, and Blaise gets the last pick, Blueberry.
We settle back into light conversation; I only contribute every few minutes or when I have anything interesting to add. I don't remember exactly when, but I fall asleep with my head against the window. The cool glass and slight shaking of the train lull me to sleep.
-----
I wake with a start to find the train completely still, "Wake up." Theo stands in front of me, hands on my shoulders and begins to (quite literally) shake me awake.
"What the fuck Theo," I say, standing up and lightly shoving him back.
"We're here."
"No shit," I rub my forehead where my skin had touched the windowpane for four hours.
Draco, Lionel, Mattheo, and Pansy have already left the room, leaving Blaise and Theo behind to wake me up.
"They've gone to make sure we get a thestral," Blaise adds, leaning in the doorway.
"Great," I add, stifling a yawn. Theo reaches behind me to the storage rack and puts the strap over my shoulder. "What the hell are you doing?"
"You move so fucking slowly," he shrugs and then turns around and starts walking.
"Missed you too, Theo," I say as I start to follow him and Blaise. See, friends can be totally platonic and have an affinity for helping with belonging transportation.
I step off the train and close my eyes for a second, sucking in a deep breath of the cold evening air. It's the first of September and I already prefer this weather to summers warmth.
Ahead of me Theo walks quickly, though Blaise stays back to wait for me, "You coming?"
I reopen my eyes and am reminded once again by Hogwarts' magnificence. The moon tones down our setting to a dark, but still well-lit scenescape. It truly is gorgeous. Turning to look over at Blaise, I nod.
We quickly walk over to the last carriage and everyone in my group, except for Lionel, look at the thestrals. Mattheo and I have been able to see them since first year, and as the three other years went by, the others slowly had them revealed as well.
I step up into the carriage and sit beside Pansy, we only just all fit in.
The creature starts to move and a breeze hits my face, lighting up my senses. The ride takes around twenty minutes and Theo takes the opportunity to start talking again.
"Ten months away from those assholes, if it weren't for the school part, this could be pretty close to paradise."
"Paradise," Mattheo repeats.
I look back toward the castle and can't help but nod my head in agreement.