Beginning
(The Train to Nowhere)
This drabble contains spoilers.
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“Today it begins,” Björn says, grinning at Harry. His face is slightly flushed and he looks positively tipsy. “The rest of our lives. We’re graduating, man. Graduating!”
“Yeah,” Harry replies, and tries to smile. “Good for us.” The hall is crowded, the music is loud, the champagne ever-present and everyone looks happy. Harry isn’t. Doesn’t quite manage to be.
“Hey,” Björn starts, and sits down next to Harry. “It’s been one hell on a ride, huh. Sometimes I doubted that I’d ever get to this point. It’s been tough. But here we are.”
“Remember in the very beginning,” Harry says quietly. “There were ten of us. Ten. And now look at us who’re left to graduate – six.” Björn falls silent for a few long moments, before he sighs and shakes his head.
“You can’t keep thinking like that,” he whispers. “I shouldn’t think of that either. You know the circumstances. There’s nothing we can do anymore. About this, I mean. But there’s much else to do about many other things, Harry, and now that we’re out of school, we can… we can start.”
“Start what?” Harry asks, nearly breathlessly. His heart is beating fast in his chest and he remembers now, remembers that even if each one in their class is – or was – an extraordinary practicer of magic, the only genius is Björn.
People forget it so easily. Too easily. But facts, even if forgotten, remain facts. If there’s anyone who could figure Harry out and connect the dots even he doesn’t yet see, it’s Björn. Björn who spews off bad poetry but can memorize runes after a single glance. Björn who can’t quite manage to become the ladies man he claims to be, and yet can dissect and recreate spells at a moment’s notice.
“This is the beginning,” Björn repeats again, this time much more seriously. “Scary, isn’t it?”
marlowfication 