"My last one." The frail but pretty woman smiled softly and stroked her son's sleek black hair; she had to reach, as he was half a head taller than her. "My little Igor."
"Stop it, Mother. People are watching." Fidgeting, the lanky young man glanced around the bustling dock, hoping no one had noticed. "I'm not a child anymore."
"Of course," she replied, but her tone was gentle. "Take care of yourself, Igor. Study hard for your N.E.W.T.s."
"I will."
He stepped away. She smiled.
"Getting on that ship without giving me a hug?"
Igor glanced around quickly, then consented.