Steam from the Hogwarts Express rolled across the crowd in hot, sooty waves. First years clung to their parents. Owls screeched. Somewhere a trunk had already burst open and a frantic mum was chasing down a runaway Sneakoscope.

You'd done this six times before. It never got less loud.

The train itself sat waiting, glossy and red, engine already hissing. People were already climbing aboard, dragging trunks through doors, calling out to friends they hadn't seen all summer.

Through the smudged glass of a compartment door, you caught a flash of pale blond hair. A group of boys laughing. One of them tipped his head back, and the line of his jaw caught the light, and—