The platform at King's Cross felt different than it had the year before. The brick-red steam from the engine curled around the legs of the commuters, and the noise of the crowd seemed louder in her ears. Draconia stood by the luggage trolley, her fingers brushing the cold metal of the ring on her hand. It sat heavy on her finger, a permanent weight that no amount of scrubbing could ever move. Her mother had told her the ring was not a curse, but the way it sat against her skin felt like a sentence. She watched the way the light caught the silver of the trinket, knowing it would not budge even if she used a charm or a blade.
A heavy trunk sat beside her, and she felt the urge to reach out and touch the rough surface of the wood. The station was a chaos of movement, with people running to catch their departures and owls screeching in their cages. Her father had been quiet during the breakfast, his eyes fixed on the way the sunlight hit the silver spoon in his bowl. He had not mentioned the ring, and he had not mentioned the upcoming term. He had only looked at her as if she were a piece of a much larger, more complicated puzzle that he was not yet ready to solve.
Draconia felt a sudden surge of loneliness as the crowd thickened around her. She wanted to find someone who would look at her and see a person, rather than a daughter or a piece of a legacy. The station felt far too wide, and the air felt too thin as she climbed the steps of the train. She moved through the narrow corridor, her silk robes brushing against the wood of the doorframes. Every compartment was full of voices, of laughter and shouting, and of the easy confidence of people who did not have a ring they could not remove.
The prefects' carriage was quieter, which was a relief to her. She found her compartment and stepped inside, sliding the door shut with a soft click. Harry was already there, sitting by the window with a book in his hand. He looked older than he had in June, his jawline sharper and his eyes more tired. He did not look up immediately when she entered, but she knew he had sensed her presence. He always sensed her, even when she tried to be silent.
"You're late," Harry said, his voice cutting through the low hum of the train. He did not close his book, but his thumb stayed pressed against the edge of the page.
"The platform was crowded," Draconia replied, sitting down opposite him. She smoothed the fabric of her skirt, trying to hide the way her hands felt restless. "Everything feels smaller than it did last year."
"It is the same," he said, finally looking at her. His gaze drifted down to her hand, to the ring that sat stubbornly on her finger. He did not say anything about it, which was a mercy. "The train is the same. The seats are the same. You are just looking for things to be different."
"Perhaps," she said, and she felt the truth of it in her chest. "Or perhaps the world is actually changing and we are just the last to notice."
He gave a short, dry laugh that did not reach his eyes. "The world doesn't change because you want it to, Draconia. It stays exactly where it is until someone forces it to move."
"Is that what you think?" she asked, leaning forward so that the light from the window hit her face. "That we are just waiting for a shove?"
"I think we are all waiting for something," he said, closing his book and setting it on the seat beside him. "Some of us are just better at pretending we aren't."
They sat in silence for a moment, the rhythmic clatter of the wheels against the tracks filling the gaps in their conversation. The compartment felt smaller than it had a moment ago, the space between them shrinking as the train gained speed. She wanted to tell him something that was not a polite observation or a clever retort. She wanted to tell him that the ring felt like a hand around her throat, and that she was terrified of the way her father looked at her when he thought she wasn't looking.
"Do you remember what you said at the end of last term?" she asked, her voice dropping an octave.
Harry shifted in his seat, his eyes searching hers. "I remember a lot of things. It is hard to pick just one."
"You said that the year would be different," she prompted, watching the way his throat moved as he swallowed. "You said that things would feel heavier."
"They do feel heavier," he admitted. He reached out, his hand hovering near hers on the seat, but he did not quite touch her. "The air in the corridors, the way the professors look at us. It is not just the magic. It is the expectation."
"It is the silence," she said, and the word felt heavy in the air. "The way everyone waits for the next thing to happen, but nobody wants to be the one to say it first."
"You are being very profound today," Harry teased, though his expression remained serious. "Is it the train, or are you just trying to be difficult?"
"I am trying to be honest," she said, her heart racing a little. "It is a rare thing in this house, and it is a rare thing on this train."
He watched her, his eyes dark and unreadable. "Honesty is dangerous, Draconia. Especially now. People will use it against you."
"Let them," she said, and for a second, she felt a spark of defiance. "I am tired of the shadows. I want to say one thing that is actually true, before the year starts and we all go back to pretending."
She looked at him, really looked at him, and felt a sudden, sharp ache in her chest. She wanted to tell him that she loved him, or that she feared him, or that she simply wanted to be held until the world made sense again. She wanted to say that the ring was a part of her now, and that she didn't know how to be without it. She saw the way his eyes tracked the movement of her lips, and she knew he was waiting.
"Tell me," he whispered, his voice barely audible over the roar of the engine.
Draconia took a breath, her fingers curling around the edge of the seat. She looked at him, her eyes bright and steady, and she felt the weight of the moment. She decided to say it, to let the truth out of her mouth before the doors of the compartment or the doors of her life closed again.
She said it and he heard it and then two people walked in.