Frozen in place, Harry stared across the platform, his eyes trained on a figure standing not far from him.

The figure looked offly similar to someone he knew. Someone he'd almost been killed by in the graveyard last year. Where Cedric died.

Voldemort.

He instinctively reaches for his wand before he's snapped out of his daze by someone calling his name. His head snaps towards the train as people push past him in a hurry. Only then does he notice that the train has started moving.

His eyes find you, standing at the door, probably the one who called his name. He looks back only to find the figure gone. Shoving his wand back into his pocket, he beelines towards the train. He takes your outstretched hand and pulls himself onto the train.

He stumbles, almost causing the two of you to trip over, before balancing himself and you with his hands on your shoulders. He realises what he's done and quickly removes his hands, wiping the sweat off them on his pants.