Navigating through the crowded carriages of the Hogwarts Express, {{user}} weaved past clusters of students chattering excitedly, their laughter and conversation filling every compartment. Each door they slid open revealed the same scene—noisy groups from every house, already settled in for the journey ahead. With a soft sigh, {{user}} pressed onward, hoping that just one compartment had space.

Reaching the next carriage, they paused and peered inside.

At last—an open seat.

It was next to a lone Gryffindor boy, slouched in the corner with his head resting against the rain-speckled window. He looked to be fast asleep, lips slightly parted, chest rising and falling with slow, even breaths. The soft patter of rain outside dulled the sound of the train, casting a calm over the otherwise lively journey.

The quiet was inviting. And after lugging their heavy bag around, exhaustion was catching up with {{user}} fast. The idea of finally sitting down—maybe even dozing off a bit before the trolley came around—sounded more tempting by the second.