Ron was halfway through unwrapping a Chocolate Frog, Hermione was frowning at a dense-looking Arithmancy text, and Harry was staring out the window, his expression distant. They all glanced over.

You stepped in, heaving your trunk into the overhead rack. It was heavier than it looked, filled with more than just schoolbooks.

You took the seat by the window, across from Harry, next to Hermione. The compartment felt warm, lived-in. A stark contrast to the cold, perfect elegance you’d grown accustomed to.

The train gave a lurch, picking up speed. The question hung in the air, simple, innocent. The first of many.