Neville was the first to give in. He hugged Trevor to his chest, slumped against the seat, and was asleep within minutes.
Altair lasted a little longer. A yawn caught him off guard, and he shut his eyes, letting himself drift.
Hermione stayed awake, watching the darkening countryside blur past the window. Ten minutes, maybe more. Then she was gone too.
...
A whistle shrieked.
Hermione's eyes opened. She registered two things in quick succession: her head was resting against Altair's shoulder, and his hand was settled at her waist. She sat upright fast enough that her neck ached, her face already warm.
Altair was rubbing his eyes with the back of his hand, blinking slowly, as if he had only just surfaced himself.
"My shoulder's sore," he muttered, working it in a slow circle.
"Sorry," Hermione said, quieter than she intended. "I fell asleep."
Altair stretched his arms out and smiled. "Why are you apologizing? I was hoping you'd sleep a little longer, honestly."
"You..." Her face went a deeper shade of red. She had heard the intention in it. "What is that supposed to mean?"
She glared at him, then caught herself and looked across the compartment.
Neville was gone.
She let out a slow breath.
"He went to the toilet," Altair said, already standing. "We should hurry. We're nearly there." He reached for the hem of his shirt.
"You... you..."
The words wouldn't come.
"We need to change into our robes," Altair said, setting his suit jacket aside and pulling his wizarding robes from the trunk. He shook them out, put them on, then folded the suit carefully away.
Hermione said nothing. She took off her coat, changed, and sat back down.
...
A while passed.
"Your hat," she finally said.
"Sorry, I forgot." Altair pulled it off. As he did, something caught the light along the brim, a cold thin gleam, and Hermione flinched.
"There's something on it."
"Mm." He turned it over in his hands without much concern. "Two razor blades, sewn into the brim. Family tradition."
Hermione stared at it. "What a strange tradition," she murmured, mostly to herself.
The compartment door slid open and Neville came back, looking pleased. "They're saying we're almost at Hogwarts." He noticed their robes and scrambled to change.
"Where's your toad?" Altair glanced around. Trevor was nowhere in sight.
Neville's hands went still. Then he yanked his robes on the rest of the way and ran.
"Oh no, I left him in the bathroom!"
Hermione watched him go. "Can he really be trusted to remember spells?"
Altair shrugged.
As it turned out, the warning had come just in time. Trevor hadn't wandered far. Neville came back red-faced, toad clutched to his chest, and the train was already slowing as he dropped back into his seat.
...
The platform was dark and cramped. Whoever had designed it had not been thinking about crowds.
The three of them stepped off onto it. Hermione dragged her trunk with one hand and, after a moment, reached out and caught Altair's sleeve lightly with the other. She looked around. The station threw a small pool of light. Beyond that, nothing.
"First years! First years over here!"
A lantern swung up out of the dark.
Altair recognized him immediately. Hagrid, Keeper of Keys and Grounds, half-giant, unmistakable.
"Hagrid!"
Somewhere ahead, Harry Potter's voice rang out, bright with relief.
Hagrid's wide, bearded face split into a grin. He waved toward the sound, then went back to calling. "First years this way!"
Hermione had gotten a clear look at him by then. "My God," she breathed. "He has to be at least three meters tall." Her grip on Altair's sleeve tightened without her seeming to notice.
The first years fell in behind Hagrid and followed him into the dark.
The path was narrow, trees pressing in close on both sides. Altair had half a mind to cast Lumos, but Hermione was already staying close, her shoulder against his arm, and he decided against it.
They walked like that for more than ten minutes.
"Round that bend," Hagrid called from the front, "and you'll see Hogwarts!"
The group picked up pace almost as one.
They turned the corner, and the sounds started immediately. Little gasps, a few sharp intakes of breath.
A vast lake spread out before them, black as ink under the night sky. On the far shore, a hillside rose, and on it stood a castle, enormous and lit with warm light, towers pushing up against the stars.
"So that's Hogwarts," Hermione said softly.
"Mm." Altair kept walking forward. "Relax a little."
Hagrid's voice carried back over the group as they moved toward the water's edge. "No more than four to a boat. That's a rule from long ago. First years have always crossed the Black Lake this way, same as the four founders once did..."
Nobody spoke. They climbed into the boats one by one.
Altair's carried him, Hermione, Neville, and a girl he didn't recognize though something about her face tugged at him. Hermione leaned over and asked her name. Lavender Brown.
The boats moved without being rowed.
For about twenty minutes they glided across the black water, then ducked under a hanging curtain of ivy and into a low underground tunnel, until the darkness gave way to stone and the castle rose above them.