Kings Cross Station was always buzzing with muggles. It didn't matter how many years you'd pushed your way through them, or shoved through crowds–they just gathered together. Perhaps it was the charm on the wall between platform 9 and 10; a flurry of dust that kept muggles from seeing too much, and for families to disappear entirely amongst them.

"Keep up!" You said, looking over your shoulder at the young boy you'd been assigned to get through the station. It was his first year, and first time he'd been in the station. His hand was sweaty, gripping yours with a slipping death grip as you led him through the crowd. Ahead, you could see Ophelia guiding a second year through the crowd. A young Hufflepuff girl that wore her hair in two braids, and painted her lids with vibrant blue.

It felt like a hundred year journey before you were finally coming to a slow stop in front of the wall, your free hand tightening around the handle of the trolly you'd been pushing. The other was guiding the young boys hand to the handle as well when you stopped–dropping your hand away and pushing the boy slightly closer to the trolly.

Ophelia had long disappeared through the wall, and beside you stood Draco and Narcissa.

"Go," you muttered, suddenly embarrassed by the young boy you'd been guiding through the station. His hesitation to move forward collided the shared trolly towards Malfoy's, smashing the edge of both of them together. And for a moment, breath was caught inside of your throat. You pulled the cart slightly, trying to readjust without looking up.

"Sorry," the boy piped, standing on the tips of his toes, trying to see over the pile of luggage that he'd suddenly been put in charge of. When you looked up, it was to the studying gaze of Narcissa. Brown hues, opposite of piercing blue ones that her son had, but with the same amount of judgement behind them.

It felt like she saw you, and saw through you at the same time.

"Go, Marcus." You pushed the cart forward, breaking your gaze with the woman to glance towards Draco–but unlike his mother, he looked annoyed, waiting for the first year to make his grand entrance to Hogwarts. Suddenly, the boy was running forward toward the wall, pushing your luggage and his own through.

With little hesitation, you followed. Unable to hear Narcissa's remark as you left, "do you know her name, Draco?"

Nor his response. "Y/N? She was in a few of my classes last year."

"She looks familiar, but I can't place her face."

Then they too, entered platform 9 ¾.

There wasn't anybody to wave goodbye to on the platforms, so after you'd gotten rid of your luggage, you'd started walking down the train–glancing into carts here and there. It wasn't until you'd come across a couple of your friends in one of the walkways of the train that you started going somewhere with purpose–going further up the train, until you were in a section of tables.

It felt like a right of passage. The same seats had been reserved for the older kids going to Hogwarts, and now you were a part of the youth going through the last two years of school.

"I get motion sick," Ariella claimed, slipping into the seat and scooting towards the window. The likelihood of it being a lie and that being an excuse to pretend she was in a music video was high. She'd already decorated her hair with a number of butterfly clips that slowly flapped their wings.

"Whatever," you muttered, unable to stop yourself from smiling slightly.

If there was anything you were, it was leniant towards those you considered your friends. Your kindness didn't always extend to those that you didn't know, and you were often considered callous by those who didn't care to know you.

"You two are a sight for sore eyes." Blaise announced his presence with a slanted grin and pushed his carry-on bag onto the metal rods above your heads.

"Hi Blaise," Ariella leaned on her hand, blinking slow as she watched him settle into the next booth. "You're not gonna sit with us?"

"Nah, I figure you two need dates as lovely as you are." He motioned behind him, and you looked–only to have your eyes assaulted by Crabbe and Goyle slipping into the seats across from you.

"Terribly funny. You should drop out and become a comedian." Your tease was hardly heard by Blaise, who had already turned to greet Draco. You turned slightly towards the window, suddenly wishing you'd fought more to be on the inside seat, rather than the outside. Only to want it more when Pansy Parkinson's shrill voice filled the cabin.

Apparently the cabin had temporarily become Slytherin's property.

"Sorry to hear about your dad, Draco," Ariella leaned forward, trying to look past you towards the boy, making you want to sink into the upholstery of the chair when you felt his eyes turn towards you. Your breath was caught in your throat.

"The ministry is run by fools. They'll come to regret their decision," he answered, only looking past you for a split second. You'd never really spoken to him, aside from the couple of times in third year where you'd gotten into petty arguments with each other. Things to entertain each other on the slower days, but you'd never really spoken outside of quips. But his mother's recognition of you had him wondering just who you were that she felt she knew you, but couldn't place where she'd seen your face before. "What'd you do this summer, y/n? Had to be more interesting than anything Ariel would've done."

You felt your ears get hot, thanking everything that your hair was down, and long enough to cover the edges. The blush undoubtedly blossomed across your features as you turned to look at Draco. "Quidditch, mostly. I'm thinking about trying out for the team."

Lie.

"I got a new broom."

Another lie.

You had the gold to buy a new broom, sure. A fortune left by your parents after they'd been sent to Azkaban. Old money that had no reminants of your new last name. You're new money now. A new line of purebloods would begin with you.

"What about you Draco?" You leaned on the palm of your hand, looking at him in a lazy way–feeling as the flush that came with acknowledgement was fading. But it was fast to return as you stammered, "I mean, other than–the ministry shit."

"He's been writing me owls everyday," Pansy chimed in, staring straight at you. She'd never looked like she hated you more than in that moment.

"Alright, then you tell me what he's been doing, Pansy," you responded, giving her a once over. "I wasn't aware you two were writing transcripts of your days to each other."

Draco snorted, but you didn't look away from the brunette. It was like a game of chicken, and when she looked away first, you knew that you'd won.

The hours to Hogwarts always felt the longest.

You'd already played a few rounds of cards with Crabbe, Goyle, and Ariella. Had joined in on teasing Blaise about the way his trousers were slightly too short with his recent growth spurt, and read the same passage on subspecies of magical beasts residing in the sea over...and over again.

Draco's foot bounced, his hands fidgeting on the table. Pansy tried to place her hands over his, her voice softened to try and get his attention but failing as he pulled them back into his lap. Soon, he'd gotten up to pull his bag from the metal bars, grabbing something out of it before he was swinging it back up.

Then the cart was suddenly filled with black smoke, and students were trying to figure out what the hell had just happened. Hands waving in front of faces, and students closest to the windows pulling them down to release trapped smoke.

"What was that?" Draco asked, looking around the cart with paranoia that you'd never seen before. His eyes darting from place to place.

"Draco sit down. We'll be at Hogwarts soon," Pansy pleaded, slowly dropping back into her seat now that the smoke was clearing.

"Hogwarts," Draco snorted, slumping down in his seat. His hands coming together in front of him again. You looked at him, studying him as he spoke. "What a pathetic excuse for a school. Think I'd pitch myself off the astronomy tower if I had to continue for another two years."

"What's what supposed to mean?"

"Lets just say I don't see myself wasting my time in charms class next year," he answered, piercing gaze meeting Blaise', who's smile still lingered. "Amused Blaise? We'll see just who's laughing in the end."

You wanted to say something, but when he noticed your stare, you looked away. From the corner of your eye, you saw him tilt his head back–staring at his bag, before he was turning his attention to the passing grasslands.

As the train started to come to a stop, you grabbed for your trunk. You hadn't brought much with you. Honestly, living in the group home was like living out of a suitcase. You were never anywhere long enough to unpack, and get more than what could be carried around with you. Absentmindedly, you patted your sweater–making sure your wand was still inside of your pocket.

"You two go on. I wanna check something." You followed Blaise and Pansy as they started leaving. The auror's outside catching your eye, you stared as you waited for Pansy to start moving down the train steps. Ariella had long pushed past you to get off the train. You glanced behind you, only to make eye contact with Draco before he closed the train door and pulled the curtains down.

The others hadn't seemed to notice the way the rest of the curtains came down along the cabin, but you stood there. You knew that you shouldn't be nosy, but once you were curious there was little to do to satisfy other than knowing what you were being left out on. Knowing what was happening was the key to being successful; to fulfill ambitions was to have all the keys to the puzzle.

You felt your heart beating in your chest, a slow thump, thump, thump. Blaise and Pansy hadn't noticed you stop on the platform, waiting for Draco to leave the train too. There was something eerie about the way the platform looked at night. It was deserted, and with the carriages leaving, it was getting quieter.

The sound of the train door opening almost made you jump out of your skin. You almost regretted waiting for him. You didn't have a good reason to be waiting around for him. He seemed just as shocked that you were still standing there–stopping for a second to give you a once over before he was walking away without so much as a thanks for waiting y/n.

You pulled your trunk, following him quietly. Every roll over cobblestone felt like the loudest fucking drum in the world. And when you'd finally gotten to his luggage, you let out a little sigh of relief when it was both of you filling the quiet air.

"That's pretty cool."

Draco looked up, before following your gaze to the staff that was laying across his trunk. "Belongs to my father. Safekeeping while he's away."

You nodded. You had a ring from your mother. A sapphire that sat lone in a crest of diamonds. A symbol of your bloodline, but you'd never dare worn it aside from the chain it hung on around your neck.

"You think he'll be released from Azkaban?"

Draco scowled at the mention, barely looking at you as he started to walk faster. "Are you dull? Of course he'll be released. Anybody with sense could see he doesn't belong there."

You started to slow a bit, annoyance taking over as you stared at the back of Draco's head. You bit your tongue, stopping at the auror's to let them search you before you would be let inside. And even if Draco's snip at Filch was entertaining, you wouldn't give him the satisfaction of a smile. Not even when he walked slowly until you caught up to him.

Both of you walking the distance to Hogwarts in silence, listening to Harry and Luna some paces behind you both, talking about who-knows-what creatures infesting the ears of witches and wizards across the world.