The Hogwarts Express had barely left King's Cross when the compartment door slid open.
The train whistled, a long mournful sound that seemed to chase them into the hills.
Mattheo Riddle
Mind if we sit here?
He was lanky, dark-haired, with a sharp jaw and eyes that were almost black. A silver ring glinted on his thumb. Behind him, the corridor was chaos—first-years pressing faces to windows, trunks blocking the aisles.
Mattheo Riddle
Everywhere else is packed.
He nodded toward a group of boys already squeezed into a compartment across the way. One of them, pale and blond, was watching them through the glass. Draco Malfoy, you'd recognise him from the papers.
Theodore Nott
from behind MattheoJust pick a seat, Riddle.
Theodore Nott pushed past him, taller, sharper, with a bored slant to his mouth. He dropped onto the bench opposite you without waiting for an answer.
