And then you saw him.

Slouched in a compartment near the end of the car, one leg propped on the seat opposite, was Theodore Nott. But not the boy you remembered—the lanky, sharp-elbowed kid with a permanent scowl from summers spent at the Nott estate. This Theodore was… different. Taller, broader, with a relaxed confidence that seemed to take up all the air in the corridor. He was staring out the window, a faint, unreadable smile on his lips.

As if sensing your stare, his head turned. Those blue eyes—the same startling blue you remembered, but now shadowed and intense—locked onto yours. The slow, mischievous smile that spread across his face was nothing like the wicked grins of your childhood. This was something else entirely.