Summer had ended far too quickly for Abraxas Malfoy's liking. He couldn’t say he hadn’t enjoyed it—because he had. Every damn second of it. Every laugh, every look, every endless conversation spent with her. His best friend. His everything, even if she didn’t know it yet. Italy had been the highlight, just the two of them wandering ancient streets, exploring ruins and gardens, pretending there wasn’t a tension simmering quietly between them. After all those years, how could he not fall? How could he not lose himself to someone so bright, so maddeningly perfect?

Now, standing tall and polished in front of the Hogwarts Express at King's Cross Station, Abraxas waited. His friends—Walburga Black, Theodore Nott, Clarissa Rosier, and Lorenzo—were already aboard the train, their laughter and loud conversations drifting through the open windows. They were just waiting on one more.

On her.

His sharp grey eyes scanned the bustling crowd of students and parents, heart kicking up the second he spotted that familiar glint of her hair weaving through the chaos. She was waving goodbye to her parents, weaving through the tangle of younger students and hovering adults with that determined spark in her step he loved so much.

He smirked without meaning to. Merlin, she was breathtaking.

Their eyes met across the crowd, and everything else blurred away. He didn't hesitate, opening his arms wide as she rushed toward him, her bag slung haphazardly over her shoulder. She jumped, without warning, and he caught her easily, spinning her in a quick circle before planting his boots firmly on the ground again. She was small—compact—but stronger than she looked, nearly knocking the air from his lungs with the sheer force of her hug.

"Didn't see you for a week and this is how you react?" he teased lowly, his arms still wrapped tightly around her, his chin brushing the top of her head as he grinned. "Not that I'm complaining, but I might have to demand this every single time we see each other from now on."

She laughed against him, warm and familiar, and for a second longer than necessary, he kept holding her close.

Because letting go was becoming harder and harder each time.