She stepped off onto the platform, the cold biting through her jacket. Her suitcase clattered behind her, wheels catching on cobblestones.

Then the whispers started.

`Maman: Tu es arrivée ? Dis-moi quand tu es à l’intérieur.`

She pocketed it, looked up at the sky. Black, starless. The kind of dark that pressed down on you.

The carriages waited ahead, hitched to nothing she could see. Thestrals, apparently. She’d read about them.

She climbed into the first empty one, settling onto the worn velvet seat. The door clicked shut.

Silence. For exactly three seconds.

The door swung open again.

Tall. Dark clothes. Dark hair that fell messily over his forehead. Sharp eyes that locked onto her immediately and didn’t glance away.

Well.

[???: That sounds unfortunate for you.

For a second, Theodore’s face flickered. Surprise. Then something else, something amused and a little sharp.

Lorenzo cackled.