Chương 30: Chapter 31 : Cold beauty

The train whistle blared loudly, as the scarlet steam engine began to slow. Tyson was jolted awake by the sound. He realised he had dozed off somewhere along the journey.

"Damn it." His neck ached from whatever angle he'd slept at. For a moment he just sat there, letting the grogginess drain out of him. The compartment was dim, lit only by the faint glow of the corridor lamps outside, giving everything a dull orange glow and making the air feel warm despite the chill pressing against the windows. Across from him, Harry sat hunched over his Defence Against the Dark Arts textbook, brow furrowed in concentration.

Ron, on the other hand, had his face nearly pressed to the window, breath fogging the glass.

"Finally! Look, lights ahead!" he exclaimed excitedly, drawing their attention. Tyson leaned over to see for himself. Through mist as thick as clouds, the only thing he could make out was the faint golden dots scattered in the distance. Lamps at the Hogsmeade Station, probably.

"You two should get changed," Tyson suggested, straightening the creases that had formed on his robes. He doubted Hermione would appear just to remind them of that, given how much he had teased the poor girl. Well, now that he thought about it, Draco hadn't appeared to cause trouble either. Had his butterfly wings spread that wide already? Neither of them argued, quickly changing. The whistle sounded once more, and the brakes screeched beneath them.

Steam rolled past the windows, swallowing the platform lights whole.

"Let's go." Ron was already on his feet, sliding the compartment door open before the train had fully stopped. The corridor was completely packed, elbows bumping and feet dragging as students jostled toward the exit. Tyson barely managed to pull his robe straight before the crowd shoved him toward the door. When he stepped out, the cold hit him first. A biting wind that smelled of wet soil and pine, the kind that made you clench your asshole. The platform lights were dim and the mist made everything look hazy.

"First years! First years over here!" A voice drifted from the far end of the platform. Tyson turned and spotted Hagrid standing above the crowd. His thick beard almost covered his entire face, and Tyson could swear the lantern he was carrying could pass for a streetlight. Ron gawked.

"Merlin's beard. That's got to be Hagrid, Hogwarts' keeper of keys. Percy mentioned him, said he was big, but I didn't think he'd be that enormous."

"Hagrid might be a bit large in size, but he's a very kind person," Harry defended almost instinctively.

"First years, come this way!" Hagrid called again, waving the lantern in a wide arc. They pushed through the crowd toward him, falling in with the rest of the first years.

"Hagrid!" Harry said, grinning as they got close. Hagrid's eyes lit up the moment he spotted him. He let out a booming laugh, teeth flashing behind his beard.

"Harry! Good ter see yeh! How was yer summer?"

"Wonderful," Harry replied. Then Hagrid turned to Tyson with something almost apologetic in his expression.

"Oh, and Tyson, sorry I missed the buffet last time." The author's content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

"No worries," Tyson said, grinning up at the half-giant.

"We'll do it again sometime."

"Absolutely!" Hagrid laughed, clearly pleased. Once all the first years had gathered, Hagrid turned and led them down a path away from the station, his lantern the only real source of light. His massive frame blocked most of it, leaving the rest of them stumbling half-blind behind him. The ground was muddy and slick, and more than one student tripped over a hidden root, muttering curses under their breath.

The sound of water grew louder the further they walked, until the trees finally parted to reveal a lake so dark that even the light from the lantern couldn't illuminate its surface. They came out onto a wooden pier where dozens of small boats were bobbing against it.

"No more than four to a boat!" Hagrid shouted, then climbed into one himself, rocking it hard enough that Tyson half expected it to flip over.

'Wait a second, why is he boarding before children?' Tyson stared at the half-giant, unimpressed. He sighed and followed Harry and Ron toward a boat on the right. Draco might have been the main reason for the whole Buckbeak fiasco in the third year, but some of that blame belonged to Hagrid too. The man meant well, but common sense wasn't exactly his strong suit. As they reached the boat, they found Neville and Hermione already seated inside. Ron climbed in without hesitation.

"Uh, mate, we could switch boats," Harry offered, glancing between Tyson and the others.

"It's fine." Tyson waved him off.

"Fate's telling me something. I'll take that one instead." He nodded toward the boat directly across from theirs and made his way over. Coincidentally, it was already occupied by three people, leaving space for only one more person. Tyson's gaze swept over the occupants. A brown-haired, light-skinned boy whose barely contained excitement gave him away as either Muggle-born or half-blood, a black boy with short, neatly cropped hair, and a long-haired blonde girl with a cold expression.

Well, the black boy also had the same expression as the girl. Tyson was hundred percent sure these two were pure-bloods. The brown-haired boy was already trying to strike up a conversation, his voice tinged with a little too much enthusiasm.

"Hey, I'm Terry Boot. Nice to meet you guys!"

"Daphne. Daphne Greengrass," the blonde replied in a tone that felt like she was doing him a favour by speaking at all. She didn't so much as glance at him as she said it, her attention fixed somewhere out over the water.

'Daphne Greengrass?' Tyson's eyes lit up with realisation. So it was the ice queen, the fanfiction favourite. It made sense for her to be a bit condescending.

"…Blaise Zabini," the boy said, his introduction just as simple. He went quiet again, arms folded, looking supremely unbothered by the whole exchange. Terry pressed on anyway, probably confusing their brief replies for introversion.

"My father's a wizard, my mother's a Muggle reporter, but we live in the Muggle world so I don't really know much about all this. What about you two? I assume you grew up in the wizarding world?" Blaise only gave him a blank look while Daphne outright scoffed condescendingly, making their stance pretty clear. They weren't interested in talking to Terry. Poor guy. Silence settled over the boat. Terry's face went red as he finally seemed to understand something.

He dropped his gaze to his lap, clearly regretting having said anything at all.

"Tyson Steward." Tyson climbed in as he spoke, and all three pairs of eyes turned to him.

"Nice to meet you all." Terry looked like he'd been thrown a lifeline in the middle of drowning.

"Hey, I'm Terry Boot. Nice to meet you, Tyson." He stuck his hand out almost too quickly. Tyson shook it and settled into his seat, letting his weight rock the boat gently before it steadied.

"You said your mum's a reporter. Which channel?"

"Oh, she works for the BBC, actually. Local stuff mostly, but she's covered a few national news stories too." Terry's whole posture changed the second someone actually engaged with him, his shoulders loosening. The conversation carried on for a good minute, mostly Terry talking about his mother's work and his own nervousness about which house he'd end up in, before he suddenly paused, glancing down at the boat curiously.

"Where are the oars?"

"There aren't any," Tyson said, watching the water.

"They probably move on their own. Magic, most likely."

"Right. Obviously." Terry laughed at himself, rubbing the back of his neck, seemingly embarrassed.

"Still getting used to that being the answer to everything." Once every boat was filled, Hagrid's voice rang out over the lake.

"Forward!" As if the word itself were a command, the boats lurched forward and began gliding smoothly across the water. Soon they rounded a bend, and Hogwarts came into view. Tyson's eyes practically glowed as he looked at the castle. It stood on a mountain, overlooking everything like a king on his throne, lights glowing from hundreds of windows, towers rising into the sky. Its reflection shimmered across the lake's black surface, doubling every light until the whole world seemed to glow.