Disclaimer: I do not own the Hogwarts Express. If I did, it wouldn't run on time, the snack cart would serve nothing but marshmallows, and whenever I got bored it would take a detour through Sweden. I do, however, own Hogwarts Castle. I got lucky on the real-estate market.
A/N: This was spawned entirely from the disclaimer, which was originally going to be attached to something else. Ten minutes with a keyboard produced this little piece of insanity. Enjoy, and make sure to bring the brain bleach.
Their love was the sort that didn't just break hearts, but ripped them in half, bounced them several times against a wall, stomped on them once or twice, and then fed them to the family dog. It was passionate, or it would have been, had they been able to get anywhere near each other. It was obsessive, as neither one of them had much else to think about. It was the kind of love that deeply moved observers, or it would have been, had generations of Hogwarts students known anything whatsoever about it.
Every summer she waited, alone where she stood, for him, longing silently for the day when he would arrive and cure her loneliness and despair. He always did. Not by saying anything--he didn't even have a mouth. He brought her the students she cherished, the company she so desperately needed, the meaning in her life. She gave him a reason to ride out to Scotland twice a year. He looked forward to it tremendously. It was the highlight of his somewhat boring existence.
They had never kissed, never held hands, never consummated their love. There had been no playful whispers, no promises of marriage, no ardent declarations of devotion. There were never going to be any.
And yet the Hogwarts Express and Hogwarts Castle longed for each other. It gave them something to do.
