A piercing whistle split the air.
"I have to go," Snape said quickly.
He gave Eileen a brief farewell, hauling his trunk behind him as he climbed aboard the scarlet Hogwarts Express. Near the rear of the train, he found an empty compartment, shoved his trunk into the corner, then leaned out the window to wave.
Eileen was still waving from the platform, her figure receding as the train gathered speed, swallowed bit by bit by clouds of steam and smoke.
Only once the train curved away from the station did Snape close the window and sit down.
"Hey, Severus."
The compartment door slid open, and Abbo dropped onto the seat opposite him with the floppiness of someone who hadn't slept well.
"How was your summer?" Abbo asked casually. "Mine was dead boring. Dad made me read Noble Bloodlines: A Wizarding Genealogy and take bloody notes."
"Overwhelming," Snape replied with a crooked grin.
"What do you mean? Tell me everything!" Abbo sat up, intrigued.
Snape cleared his throat and assumed a deadly serious tone. "I went to fight He-Who-Mu—"
"Don't say that name!" Abbo practically leapt upright, shivering. "Bloody hell, don't joke like that."
"You asked," Snape said, reclining with a smirk. "Fear won't stop him, you know."
"What's gotten into you?" Abbo muttered, both annoyed and unnerved. "You didn't actually get into anything dangerous, did you?"
"Course not," Snape said flatly. "Not that capable. Still, calling him You-Know-Who doesn't exactly earn mercy, does it?"
"If I had your nerve, we wouldn't be dormmates," Abbo muttered, shooting him a look. "Come on, let's play a game of wizard chess."
As the pieces clattered across the board with small curses and grunts, the Hogwarts Express roared northward.
Outside, the last fields of summer gave way to the stark browns and golds of early autumn. Trees thinned. Hills rolled into rough, bramble-choked slopes.
Around one in the afternoon, a clatter echoed in the corridor.
A plump, dimpled witch with a cheerful smile pushed the trolley to their door. "Anything off the trolley, dears?"
"This time, I've got it."
Snape stood quickly, pulling a coin pouch from his pocket and dropping it on the table with a weighty thud.
"Two of everything—Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans, Chocolate Frogs, Pumpkin Pasties, Liquorice Wands, Cauldron Cakes…"
He handed her a Galleon, took the change—two Sickles—and returned to his seat with an armful of sweets.
After the witch shut the door, Abbo eyed the pouch with suspicion, then turned the same look on Snape.
"You're wondering where it came from?" Snape said with a mischievous glint. "Robbed Gringotts over the summer."
Abbo rolled his eyes. "Since when are you this ridiculous?"
"Since I saw how you looked at Mary." Snape bit off the head of a Chocolate Frog and grinned.
"What?! What the hell are you talking about?" Abbo's face turned crimson. "Don't go throwing around wild accusations—"
"Accusations?" Snape said, brushing his hair mockingly. "I saw you smoothing your hair and strutting over to her on the platform. I even waved, but you ignored me."
"It was nothing!" Abbo snapped. "Just friends—friends are like four-leaf clovers and all that..."
Snape burst into laughter. The compartment filled with warmth and easy joy, their chess game long forgotten under a pile of wrappers and crumbs.
As the train carried them farther into the Highlands, day slipped into dusk. Lamps blinked to life in the corridors and above the luggage racks.
Snape glanced out the window. The shadowy outline of Hogwarts was just coming into view between jagged ridges and forested slopes.
The train began to slow.
"We should change—almost there."
They swapped their clothes for school robes. Snape's were just long enough to brush the tops of his shoes.
"The train will arrive at Hogwarts in five minutes. Please leave your luggage on board; it will be transported to the castle." The conductor's voice echoed through the carriages.
At last, the train rolled to a halt at Hogsmeade Station.
Students surged down the corridors, jostling for the doors. Snape and Abbo stepped out onto the dimly lit platform, hemmed in by mist and the scent of wet stone.
"First years, this way!"
Hagrid's massive frame stood at the end of the platform, waving a lantern. First-years would, as always, cross the Black Lake by boat.
Further down the path, over a hundred carriages waited for the older students.
But this time, the carriages weren't pulled by nothing.
Thestrals stood quietly in the deepening twilight, their milky-white eyes gleaming, bony heads turning toward the arriving students.
Despite having prepared himself, Snape was struck by their eerie appearance. Reptilian in body, with skin stretched tight over visible bone, they bore enormous bat-like wings between their shoulders.
Snape and Abbo climbed into a carriage and shut the door.
Moments later, the wheels jolted into motion.
Hogwarts drew nearer with every turn.
Soon, the carriages clattered to a stop before the stone steps of the front entrance. The crowd flowed upward through the Entrance Hall and into the Great Hall, where the Start-of-Term Feast was already beginning.
Overhead, the enchanted ceiling shimmered with starlight.
Candles floated above the house tables, their flames casting golden gleams on the polished plates and goblets.
At the Slytherin table, a gaunt figure sat unmoving.
The Bloody Baron, silver chains clinking softly, robes soaked in ghostly blood, stared out with dull, hollow eyes.
"Hello, Baron," Snape said, sliding into the seat across from him. "What happened to all the blood?"
The Baron's gaze shifted, slowly focusing like a camera lens narrowing on its subject.
With a voice like rusted iron, he growled, "That's none of your business, boy."
Then he drifted away, vanishing into the darkness that led to the dungeons.
Snape watched him go, expression thoughtful, then turned toward the Ravenclaw table.
No sign of the Grey Lady.
Come to think of it, in all his years, Snape had rarely seen her. She moved through the castle like a wisp of fog—silent, elusive.
His thoughts drifted to the tragic tale of the Baron and the Grey Lady, their haunting connection, the bitter love and ancient regret.
He didn't even notice the Sorting Ceremony begin.
Only when Dumbledore cleared his throat to speak did Snape blink and return to the present.