This one’s taken. He said it without looking at you, speaking to someone in the corridor. His voice was smooth, low, with a Scottish lilt. He leaned against the doorframe, one hand braced on the wood.

Sebastian, we’re going to be late. A blond boy appeared behind him, his pale eyes unfocused, a slight frown on his face. He tilted his head, as if listening to something beyond the train’s noise.

In a minute. Sebastian’s eyes never left you. They were sharp, assessing. He didn’t smile. He studied you—the long brown hair, the deep blue eyes, the way you held yourself, still and watchful. A transfer. A secret. A source of that power he could taste on the air. His mind began turning, slotting pieces into a puzzle he hadn’t known he was solving. A fifth-year with ancient magic in her veins. What could she do? What did she know? And more importantly… who would she become?