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Nevan inclined his head slightly when Madam Malkin returned, his expression calm as ever, though his eyes followed the exchange between them. He listened as Damien spoke, noting how he spoke a bit differently from when he spoke to other children.

When Damien turned back to him, Nevan adjusted the folded cloak in his arms, straightening his posture. “It was good meeting you too,” he said, his voice smooth and quiet, but with a genuine quality to it. “And I’ll look forward to seeing you at Hogwarts as well.” His gaze lingered for just a moment longer, as if he was imagining being at Hogwarts, and meeting Damien there as well.

He gave a small, polite nod as Damien waved and left, watching him go before turning toward Madam Malkin once again. He placed his selections on the counter and produced the pouch of galleons his parents had given him, taking out just enough for all the clothes he bought. “These should cover everything,” he said softly, the words clipped with the same discipline they always had.

The witch smiled warmly as she tallied the sum, then charmed his purchases into a neatly packed bag. Nevan picked it up carefully, smoothing the straps as though to ensure nothing was out of place. His dark eyes flicked once more around the shop, the mannequins in their polished uniforms, the stacks of cloaks, the flicker of enchanted candles. He breathed in the faint smell of fabric and polish again, committing it to memory.

Then, with his bundle secure at his side, he gave Madam Malkin a polite nod of thanks and stepped toward the door. The bell chimed as he slipped outside, back into the lively atmosphere of Diagon Alley.

He straightened his shoulders once more, the weight of the robes at his side a reminder of what was to come. Hogwarts. He couldn't wait.
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