It was almost nostalgic, the bustle of both muggle and wizard at the London station. Wizards lived alongside muggles without muggles realizing that their betters were silently living adjacent. Uncivilized and sparsely educated, they spend their days in front of light boxes and fill their minds with useless dribble. The days turn into weeks and eventually months, the passage of years would feel like that of weeks and yet they learned nothing but memorized lies, catchy phrases and needless innuendo.

The wizards blended well enough with the muggles, they were more oft than not willfully ignorant. Differences in fashion, carriage and even language overlooked, a display of personal preference, a show of individualism. It was easier to simply ignore the truth, it spat in the face of their science and their religion. The fact that there was a man in a brimmed hat standing conspicuously was overlooked, it was always best to hide in plain sight.

He would not be riding with him, nor would his indolent progeny. He had warned the boy to not show but he was that age, the age where orders were suggestions. His choices were questionable, his ambition admirable. He was always a clever youth, terrifying in a sense. He must have gotten that from his mother, his charm from the man standing at this station.

"Vladimir," an icy cool voice called out. "I said take the broom," he was more than capable of using the floo network to Hogsmede and then taking the broom to Hogwarts. "I cannot afford seeing your name in the paper again," he announced without making eye contact. "Even I have my limitations."