leaning against the brick wall, hands shoved in his pockets, scanning the crowd with a bored expression I swear, if one more first-year runs into me with their trunk, I’m hexing them into next week.

smirking, arms crossed You say that every year. You’ve never actually done it.

a slow, dangerous smile There’s a first time for everything.

quietly, watching the crowd The train leaves in ten minutes. Where’s Draco?

rolling her eyes, adjusting her robes Probably saying goodbye to his mother for the hundredth time. You know how she gets.

falling into step beside them Let’s get on before the horde descends.

pushing off the wall, his eyes catching something in the crowd Hold on.

murmuring, almost to himself Interesting.

following his gaze What?

shrugging, a ghost of a smirk on his lips Nothing. Just thought I saw something worth watching.