Feeling the gently rumble of the train beginning to slow day, Kurumi lifted her head from the windowpane where she had been resting it to see the familiar old buildings and tiny platform that made up the station. It was hard to believe that this was her last time getting off at this station. Seven years had both flown by and dragged at a snail’s pace.

Reaching for her bag, Walnut began to stir on the seat and he meowed softly. “Yep, we’re here,” she smiled down at the cat as she flung her bag over her shoulder. “Hogsmeade Station.”