A cold, persistent drizzle begins to fall, spotting the shoulders of black school robes. The air smells of wet wool, coal smoke, and the faint, sweet scent of the pumpkin pasties being sold from a trolley further down the platform.

For everyone else, the path leads to a line of horseless carriages. As Y/n approaches, the true nature of their pull becomes clear. Tethered to the front of each carriage is a skeletal, winged creature—leathery skin stretched tight over bone, eyes blank and white. A Thestral. Most students climb aboard without a glance, seeing only an empty harness.