𝗰𝗵𝗮𝗽𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝘁𝘄𝗼.

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FINE LINE - THE CASTLE

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FINE LINE - THE CASTLE



At long last, the train stopped at Hogsmeade Station, and there was a great scramble to get out; owls hooted; cats meowed, and Neville's pet toad croaked loudly from under his hat. It was freezing on the tiny platform; rain was driving down the icy sheets.

"Firs' years this way!" called a familiar voice.

Harry, Ron, Hermione and Mavis turned and saw the gigantic outline of Hagrid at the other end of the platform, beckoning the terrified-looking new students forward for their traditional journey across the lake.

"All righ', you four?" Hagrid yelled over the heads of the crowd.

They waved at him, but had no chance to speak to him because the mass of people around them was shunting them away along the platform.

The four of them followed the rest of the school along the platform and out onto a rough mud track, where at least a hundred stagecoaches awaited the remaining students, each being pulled by an invisible creature because when they climbed inside and shut the door, the coach set off all by itself, bumping and swaying in procession.

Mavis and Harry both felt better since the chocolate, but still weak and it didn't help that the coach smelled faintly of mould and straw. Ron and Hermione kept glancing at the two, frightened that they may collapse again.

The young Black tapped her fingers against her knee, a habit she picked up when she was nervous, and had her gaze focused on the floor in front of her. Her mind was running with thoughts of the Dementor attack, but mostly, who was that voice she heard?

As the carriage trundled towards a pair of magnificent wrought-iron gates, flanked with stone columns topped with winged boars, Mavis glanced out the window and saw two more towering, hooded Dementors, standing guard on either side.

A wave of cold sickness threatened to engulf Mavis again; she leant back into the lumpy seat and closed her eyes until they had passed through the gates. Hermione, who was sitting to Mavis's left, didn't know what to do.

The bushy-haired girl was stumped, her best friend, usually full of sarcastic comments and witty remarks, was sat still, a pale look of remorse etched onto her face. The two of them would, by now, be in a deep conversation about everything they missed out on their letters across the holiday.

Mavis could feel eyes peering against the side of her face and normally she'd turn to look but she didn't have the energy to. A feeling that she'd never be happy again sat deep inside her, troubling her more than she'd like.

The carriage picked up speed on the log, sloping drive up to the castle; Hermione turned to lean out of the tiny window, watching the many turrets and towers draw nearer. At last, the carriage swayed to a halt, and Hermione and Ron were the first two out.

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