Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
t h i r d y e a r
THE train ride gets colder every year.
There's something missing from the bustling carriages and full compartments, something that runs deep in the tracks beneath their feet replaces the excitement of their upcoming years. Perhaps no one wants to admit it, to acknowledge that as each day passes they're all closer to it. To the something that looms over their heads and makes the shivers of cool wind feel like icy pricks.
Perhaps that's just Adeline growing more tired as time goes by.
Either way, the rain doesn't help. It always seems to be raining lately. It is as if heaven has opened up and wept for its fallen angels since the nearing of colder seasons. Since the day Adeline had been standing amongst the trees on her family estate.
It's the first time her parents had allowed her out of the house, coming back to Hogwarts. She's been in her room or the study quarters every day since the ball.
She'd spoken to no one but the passing commands of her parents.
The train feels busier than usual.
It's to no surprise, to no hope nor avail, that the only seat left in the Slytherin compartment is beside Draco Malfoy.
She hesitates. Of course, she hesitates. They hadn't exactly left on comforting terms.
The thrumming of the train and the chatter of her peers become but a mere cacophony of white noise when Draco Malfoy looks at her. To compare fallen angels and sharp white roses to a boy she never should have known feels far too much like one of those muggle Greek tragedies.
His stare holds stories of the impossibilities of a better life.
Wordlessly, Draco moves over enough so Adeline could sit aside him. Across from them stared a dark-haired girl with unkind eyes and a boy who barely gave her a second glance.
Nobody spoke to make introductions, which became oddly reassuring. She didn't have the energy for Slytherin social politics.
Adeline twitched to see her friends, to seek them out and finally speak with them. She wondered if they'd even want to see her since she'd never written back to them over the summer. It had not been by her own choice. She'd read them with excitement and fondness, intentions to write back and talk of her own summer but her parents had not let her. Eventually, the letters stopped coming.
An air of coldness washes over the train, the rain outside seeming to frost the windows. The carriage grew quiet as everyone noticed the change, scared whispers making frightened remarks. In the midst of it all, of those surrounding her growing more scared and the air becoming more visible with each breath, there's a moment of silent warmth.
Draco's leg is flush against her own, the absence of cold surrounding him surprises her. He'd moved closer, perhaps in search of warmth, and now she feels herself forgetting the movements around her. She doesn't look to him in confusion or question, nor does she comment on it at all.
