The first Monday morning of September arrived, and the Hogwarts corridors were overflowing with the clamor of the new term. Early sunlight filtered through the towering windows, illuminating tiny dust motes dancing in the air. The crowd surged toward the Great Hall like a rushing river, each student becoming a nameless part of the morning bustle.

She walked amongst her friends, the laughter and conversation drowning out the sound of footsteps against the cold stone floor. With stories of the summer holiday still left unfinished, her gaze remained fixed straight ahead, where the massive oak doors of the Great Hall were gradually coming into view. To her, it was simply another hurried morning, the rhythms of school life so familiar that nothing warranted a second glance or a moment to pause.

Behind her, just a few paces away, the flow of the crowd became unnaturally chaotic. A figure struggled amidst the waves of students rushing forward. Malfoy attempted to hold a steady course, but he was constantly shoved and pulled astray by the throng, only to fight his way back onto his original trajectory. Every time a cluster of first years blocked his path or a group of rowdy boys bumped hard against his shoulder, his patience was tested by these trivial collisions. Malfoy was tossed about by the crowd, nudged to and fro, yet his eyes never once left the back that walked nonchalantly ahead, completely unaware of his presence within that sea of people.