Penwick

The trip to school on September 1st had a unique energy to it. It was the same on the Aderyn as it was on the Hogwarts Express.

Older students greeted friends they hadn't seen all summer, compared timetables, and traded stories from their holidays. Interspersed among them were the unmistakable first-years, clutching trunks that looked far too large for them and glancing around with varying degrees of excitement and apprehension.

June smiled to herself as she watched them. One year ago, she had been no different.

Well... perhaps a little different. She had boarded as a transfer student rather than a first-year, but she distinctly remembered the feeling that everyone else had received a copy of some unwritten handbook.

To be fair, she had felt the same way in her first year. Perhaps the problem was with her.

Hmm. Not a pleasant thought to start the school year with.

June wandered leisurely through the Grand Saloon, a book tucked beneath her arm, weaving around students waving their final goodbyes and those already settling into the voyage. Every so often she caught snippets of conversation.

"...my founder asked me-"

"...do you think the dorms-"

"...what if I get lost..."

She couldn't help smiling. Some things never changed.

June had almost reached one of the comfortable sofas overlooking the clouds when something caught her eye.

A cream-coloured envelope lay abandoned on the ground next to an upholstered bench.

It was thick, expensive parchment, the sort that resisted creasing no matter how carelessly it was handled. Across the front, in elegant emerald ink, the Penwick crest had been embossed, and a wax seal closed the envelope.

June frowned. Someone had almost certainly set it down for "just a moment", right?

She looked around the surrounding seats. All empty.

Perhaps they had gone to fetch a drink? Or perhaps they had only just realized they had left behind what was almost certainly an official letter from Penwick?

June picked it up carefully, resisting every temptation to peek inside. Whatever it contained, it wasn't hers to read. Besides, it was probably a copy of their welcome letter with their list of supplies. Or maybe it was a final warning for someone about to be expelled. Or a summer reading list she had never received...

Her mind raced with ideas as she scanned thr crowd, hoping someone might come hurrying back with the unmistakable expression of a person who had misplaced something important.

If not... Well, she supposed she'd have to find a member of staff once they'd landed.

For now, though, she simply stood with the envelope in her hand, tapping it against the over of her book as she waited for its owner to appear.

The passage of time can open one's eyes to many things.

Realizing you were wrong, perhaps. Or that you haven't forgiven someone who hurt you long ago.

Or that first years were annoying.

June often didn't think they were so bad, after all, she didn't encounter them much these days. But she remembered in her own first year when someone had compared her to a banshee, and in this moment, she understood that more than she ever had.

June flinched at the volume of the shrill scream of "That's mine!"

Several nearby students turned their heads.

The accusation echoed across the saloon with enough force that, for one horrifying second, June wondered if everyone else now also believed she had decided to begin sixth year with petty theft.

She looked from the envelope in her hand to the girl marching toward her, then back to the envelope again, as though checking she hadn't somehow imagined the entire situation.

"...Bloody hell," she replied after a brief pause. "Take it then."

There was no point matching the girl's volume. The poor thing looked moments away from either bursting into tears or hexing someone. Possibly both.

As the distance between them closed, June noticed details she'd missed before. The wand clutched so tightly it looked as though prying it free was impossible. The seashell necklace wrapped protectively in her other hand. The flushed cheeks, the quick breathing, the unmistakable expression of someone trying very hard not to let the enormity of everything overwhelm them.

June's irritation evaporated almost immediately.

She knew that look, and her face softened as she recognized it. "Found it on the floor," June explained, extending the envelope toward the girl, waiting until she had taken hold of the envelope before letting go, resisting the urge to smooth the now slightly crumpled corner.

"I'd make sure it's tucked away properly this time," she said, nodding toward the girl's pocket. "Other sixth years might not have been so generous." June adjusted the strap of her satchel absentmindedly, looking again at the necklace in the girl's hand. "That's very pretty," she commented, trying to make the girl feel a bit more at ease (so hopefully she wouldn't scream another criminal accusation at her). "A good luck charm?"