He clutches the handle of a battered steam trunk. His name is on its side.

Harry Evans

He still feels like a stranger in his own skin.

The train billows steam. A whistle blows.

He tries not to see his schoolmates. They call out to Lupin but don't seem to see him.

He catches sight of red hair. He walks faster.

An empty compartment. He sits with Lupin, hoping no one joins them.

And no one does.

"It will be much easier if you just talk to them. They would understand, Harry."

He can't help feeling that Lupin is wrong.