Y/n stood waiting with the other Ravenclaws while a boy with a clipboard called out names and ticked them off one by one, and further down the platform a group of Gryffindors had gathered around a cart of trunks, laughing too loudly.

A girl with dark curls beside Y/n was straining on her toes to see.

On the other side of the crowd, a boy with a broad grin and a careless sweep of dark hair was leaning against a luggage trolley, one hand in his pocket, watching the platform with an air of complete ease. Two of the Gryffindors beside him kept pushing each other for his attention. He barely noticed.

He was looking this way. Not at Y/n — somewhere past the queue, at nothing in particular, and yet his gaze landed close enough that the girl with the dark curls turned to see what he was staring at, then turned back to Y/n with a raised eyebrow.