The Trolley Witch had been and gone. Most compartments smelled of pumpkin pasties and chocolate frogs. A boy in the corridor had been counting down the minutes until they reached Hogsmeade for the last half hour, and a girl in the next compartment kept asking, loudly, whether anyone had actually seen a dragon yet.

The question had been asked four times today. Nobody had a good answer.

Y/n was still in the corridor, one hand braced on the window frame as the train swayed. The door to the nearest compartment stood ajar. Inside, two students were arguing about Quidditch, a third was asleep against the glass with his mouth open, and a girl with pale hair was watching the rain.