𝐂𝐎𝐑𝐄 - 𝐝.𝐦.

𝟎𝟏𝟖 - 𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐡𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐬

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aloha!
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"Move it, you bloody chicken," I scowl to the fat grey cat that sits in the middle of the aisle right outside my compartment, staring up at me with evil yellow eyes and mouth parted just slightly to bare its teeth. "May not be able to use magic out here, but that doesn't mean I can't—"

"Are you threatening Cheeky?" an accusatory voice stops me.

I glance up to see Celeste in the doorway of the compartment directly opposite mine, her dark eyes blazing with fury I only ever see when she's defending her fat Chicken. Her curls are up in a loose bun held together only by her wand sticking out the side, a couple loose strands falling over her face. She blows them away angrily only for them to fall back down over her eyes.

I give her a dry smile. "Move it out of the way."

"Him," she snaps, kneeling down to pick up Chicken and cradle the big ball of lint in her arms. She pressed a kiss on his forehead while glaring up at me.

I smirk at her, saying sarcastically, "You like being in that position in front of me, don't you?"

"Don't talk like that in front of him," she says simply, straightening back up. She gives me one last harsh look before turning around to face the girls still inside the compartment, saying, "Let's go."

Crabbe pushes against me from behind. I glance over my shoulder to throw him a nasty look before brushing off my coat and stepping out into the aisle. All along the cart, compartment doors swing open and the aisle fills with bustling, chattering students that push and shove at each other, eager to go home for the holidays. I manage to make it off the cart without stumbling over some stupid first year's feet.

The air is crisp and cold when I step down from the train and onto the platform. It's a bit windy out today, the air biting especially at my nose and cheekbones while running it's aggressive fingers through my hair. I fiddle with my scarf, wrapping it a little tighter while I take a few tentative steps away from the train to let the others out and look this way and that for my parents.

I see a couple workers walking over from the far side of the train pushing several trolleys filled with all our luggage atop them. Blaise steps down from the train and walks up behind me, clapping me in my shoulder before leading me towards the end of the platform where we wait for our luggage and parents to arrive. I watch, my eyes drying out a bit from the cold wind, as students step down from the Express and hug their parents, red in the face and hurrying about to either run through the platform wall or simply Disapparate and go home right on the spot.

"Which one's yours?" I ask when the workers pull up with the trolleys stacked full of luggage.

"The brown one with the little golden buckles right there," he responds, his face buried in the collar of his coat while his hands form fists in his pockets.