Lingering somewhere between platforms 7 and 8, Jack leaned up against the railing. To the people hurrying by, the American wizard likely looked as if he were people watching, but if one looked closely at him, they might notice a slight glazed look to his eyes. In the hustle and bustle of the train station, nobody seemed bothered to stop and talk with him. After all, he was just another traveler waiting on another train. Near his feet sat a worn looking overnight case, carrying paperwork and the goods he’d collected slowly over the past year.
Content, happy, and humming softly to himself, he lingered. Waiting. |