human again / hp.

Chapter 113

The scarlet engine of the Hogwarts Express hissed impatiently, white steam curling through the sky like warning smoke. The platform was crowded with chattering families and the final warmth of summer, but it all felt too far away, like I was watching the scene through a glass window.

I clutched the handle of my trunk with white knuckles. The weight of it wasn't in the luggage. It was in my chest.

I didn't want to go back.

Not this time.

Not when I knew what was waiting for me behind those ancient stone walls. Not when my task wasn't homework but something darker, crueler, something that pressed down on my lungs every time I thought of it. I didn't want to go back to a place that had once felt like a second home. I didn't want to look at Harry, Hermione, or Ron across the Great Hall and remember what I had to do. What Draco and I had been ordered to do.

So I didn't look for them.

I didn't scan the crowd for red hair or a shock of messy black. I didn't even try.

Draco nudged me, gesturing toward the train. "Let's go."

We climbed aboard without a word. Our compartment was empty. I sank into the seat by the window and let my head fall against the glass, staring out at the shifting crowds. My reflection stared back at me, pale and composed and distant. My own face looked unfamiliar.

Draco sat opposite me, stretching his legs out, his gaze locked on the corridor outside. I could feel his tension like a second skin. It clung to the air between us. Neither of us spoke.

After a few minutes, the door slid open and voices filled the space.

"Found you lot," Daphne said, smiling as she pulled her trunk inside. 

Pansy followed, overly excited as always, her voice sharp and high as she launched into something about her new boots. Crabbe and Goyle shuffled in behind her like oversized shadows, dropping into the corner seats with the grace of furniture.

Blaise Zabini appeared last, looking as polished and bored as ever, adjusting his cufflinks like he was entering a formal dinner party rather than a rattling train compartment.

"Charming as ever," Blaise said dryly, looking at Draco. "Is this a funeral or are we just brooding to pass the time?"

Draco didn't even blink. I barely looked at him. My fingers were knotted tightly in my lap, and I kept my eyes fixed on the window. The train was beginning to pull away, the platform slipping past in a blur of smoke and color.

A silence settled for a beat too long. Daphne took the seat beside me, carefully smoothing out her robes. She leaned slightly in, her shoulder brushing mine in a silent greeting. I didn't return it.

I couldn't pretend to be normal. Not when everything was broken.

Pansy kept talking. Something about who was dating who and how ridiculous it all was. Crabbe and Goyle grunted in the appropriate places. Draco said nothing. Blaise gave the occasional smirk or snort, but even he seemed less amused than usual.

Then the compartment door opened again, and a younger student peeked in. A Hufflepuff, maybe a fourth-year, holding a piece of parchment like it was cursed.

"Er—Zabini?" the girl said, holding the parchment out stiffly.

Blaise took it with a raised eyebrow, eyes scanning the tidy script. He smirked after a moment.

"Well, apparently I've been summoned," he said, tucking the parchment into his pocket. "Slughorn wants to have lunch with the 'promising young minds' or whatever it is he calls it. Let's see if the food is worth pretending to be sociable."