Year 49
«Anything from the trolley? Yes, here you go, sweetheart, three sickles please.»
The old woman smiled at the young Hufflepuff as he opened his Chocolate frog and tossed one to his girlfriend. She had been pushing the candy trolley for nearly five decades now, and it was never boring.
Once a stray owl had left droppings on the trolley, and a boy with black, messy hair and an untied Gryffindor tie hanging loosely around his neck had come up to her, his cheeks red, and stuttered an apology to her feet. "It's okay, boy," she'd smiled at him. "Here, let me tie that for you."
He left with a properly tied tie, his cheeks even redder than before. He clutched the box of Bertie Botts Every Flavour Beans she'd given him in his hands, and his plump friend was right in his heels, holding his owl. She thought of his friends, who had laughed at him, the spectacled one whispering "She's hot for you, Pad!" when he though she couldn't hear him. A shame, it was, how the young Gryffindor had turned out. She shuttered at the though of what he had done.
That was the one bad thing about doing this. They entered the Express for the first time with stars in their eyes and innocence in their hearts. Mostly. And then they left for the last time with seven years of cheating on tests, break-ups and mischief in the compartments. Like they thought no-one saw them. She chuckled lightly. She'd seen just about everything while pushing this trolley, but it was worth it.
"Excuse me, have you seen a toad?" A buck-toothed girl with a mop for a hair was looking up at her, a plump boy biting his nails behind her. Poor boy. She'd known his grandmother for years, and his parents, too. She imagined living with Augusta would be challenging. She smiled at the boy, and said kindly "I'm sorry, dears, I haven't. Anything from the trolley?" The girl picked up a chocolate frog and looked at it with interest. A muggle-born, then. "Er, no thanks... Come on Neville, we'll just keep looking."
She went back to pushing her trolley. "Anything from the trolley, dears? Anything from the trolley?" She spotted a compartment with two young boys in it, probably first-years. They'd probably want something. "Anything from the trolley, dears?" She looked at the red-haired boy. Oh, perhaps not. The poor family couldn't really afford the luxury of candy. His brothers usually did, although she had heard their mother telling them off on the platform once for wasting hard-earned money.
"No thanks, I'm all set." He held up a packed lunch, and offered a smile that was far from sincere. The other boy - oh my, it was him. She composed her face in neutral folds as to not make him uncomfortable, and smiled kindly at him. He grinned. "We'll take the lot!"
Her trolley empty, she went to the front of the train, and closed the door of a compartment shut. Slytherins never cared much for privacy, but there were first-years on this train, after all.
