the train station was crowded, filled with too many voices and too much noise. aeron stood a little apart from the rest, his trunk beside him and an owl cage balanced on top of it.

his parents were there of course. his mother looked perfect, her blonde hair tied up neatly. his father stood next to her, glancing around as if the platform was beneath him. the 9¾ sign shimmered faintly behind them

“remember what i told you” his father said “you are a blackthorn. don’t waste time with fools.”

aeron just nodded, not really trusting himself to say anything. he’d heard the same speech every year of his life, even before hogwarts was a thing.

his mother reached out, fixing the collar of his shirt like he was still a child. “try not to pick fights" she said “make friends, useful ones. and write aeron.”

he gave her nod “sure mother.”

the whistle sounded. steam billowed across the platform. it was time. he lifted his trunk, gave them both a short nod — respectful and climbed inside

inside the train was warm. first-years rushed through the corridors with excitement, older students called to each other. aeron moved through all of it looking for an empty seat. most were full
finally near the back, he found one that was empty. he slid the door open, set his things down, and sat by the window.

he watched the station through the glass — his parents still standing there, his father’s expression unreadable, his mother’s hand resting lightly on his arm. then the train jerked forward and they started to move.

for a moment he felt something like excitement stir in his chest. hogwarts. the place every witch and wizard talked about like it was a dream. he’d heard so many stories — the castle, the ghosts, the great hall. he wondered what it would actually be like.

two other first years passed by peeking into his compartment. one of them asked if they could sit. aeron shrugged. “do what you want” he said and went back to staring outside.

they sat across from him whispering about what houses they hoped to get into. aeron stayed quiet tho in his mind there was no question he’d be in slytherin. every blackthorn was. it wasn’t even a matter of choice.

he imagined the moment - the hat, the green banners. he could almost hear his father’s voice saying of course, blackthorn belongs in slytherin.

the thought made him smirk slightly

The train is quieter by now as students begin to settle and talk.

Azrael was one of the last to board, he had accidentally forgotten to pack one of his books and his father had to rush back home to fetch it... thankfully, they don't live too far away and he was able to board in time- still, it was a stressful moment.

So now, he's trying to find the least full cabin to settle into, he's never been one to enjoy loud chatting and giggling...all of them seem full, so he keeps walking further and further to the back until he finds one of the last cabins, it has people in it- but at least it isn't as filled to the brim as the rest.

His large eyes narrow slightly as he turns to peek inside, his monotone voice quietly speaking up...

"excuse me." He started, unblinking eyes turning to look at the people inside, it's kind of unsettling...the way he doesn't seem to blink much? Or maybe how his eyes are bigger than normal? Still, he has a certain..."cuteness", if you squint.

"...May I sit here?" He asked, as one of the people inside hesitantly told him to go ahead, the other one seemed hesitant (and a bit awkward), eyes quickly turning to look at him- nothing he isn't used to, of course.

The only available seat is near another boy his age, so quietly, he sits beside him with the first blink in the few minutes he's been standing by the entrance.

Have people always stared that much? Sure, he's quiet, pale and has an unintentionally bad habit of staring through you, but it isn't THAT bad, right?

His eyes flickered to his right, where the boy his age sat...he isn't use to talking to other people apart from his family, never been one to have friends or be sociable...but his mother insisted that he needs friends his age, so, he decided to give it a shot.

"...Hello, I'm Azrael... what's your name?" He quietly asked, voice hushed and somewhat hesitant- as if trying to think of what else to say once that question is answered.

He isn't exactly good at things like these (even when he tries), but hopefully he doesn't mess it up accidentally...

@Aeron Blackthorn