Bombs Away

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The train rocked from side to side, its wheels occasionally squeaking as it raced through the countryside. The soft hum of wings filled a compartment at the end of the train; James was playing with the snitch he had stolen at the end of fifth year, letting it fly away and then snatching it up at the last second. Remus's nose was buried in The Invisible Man by H.G. Wells. Sirius and Peter were playing a game of Broomhead.

Sirius's back was pressed against the window, legs propped up on the seat. He slapped a card on the pile with a grin. "Under seven."

Peter gnawed at his lip, his face contorting with immense concentration. "Should I play my ten?" He murmured, shuffling between the cards in his hand.

Sirius sighed heavily, "Wormtail, you're not supposed to tell me what you have."

"I can't watch this," Remus said in a strained voice across from them. He stood, setting his book where he was moments earlier, then pulled a set of new black robes out of his trunk in the overhead compartment. "I'm going to change."

"Already?" James plucked the snitch out of the air and shoved it in the pocket of his trousers as the door rattled open. "But we've got ages."

Shrugging, Remus ducked out of the compartment and headed for the toilets.

---

Snippets of conversations and laughter flew by as Remus, wearing his new robes, made his way back down the train. With a loud BANG, the corridor filled with smouldering snap cards. A grinning student with singed eyebrows scurried out of the adjacent compartment to collect the cards. A few compartments down, someone let off a Dungbomb; the sound of coughing and gagging reached Remus's ears as the putrid smell reached his nose. He hurried through the passage, slamming the dividing door closed behind him.

A sneering voice flowing freely from an open door caught his attention in the now quiet corridor.

"...more mudbloods than ever this year." The voice scoffed.

"I noticed that too," said another. "They breed like gnomes."

That was, apparently, a bad thing and earned wholehearted laughter from the compartment's occupants. One passing glance revealed that it was full of seventh-year Slytherins. Remus's nose scrunched in disgust.

Loud chatter returned as Remus continued along the train.

"—you don't think it's too short, do you?" A Hufflepuff was standing in the middle of the corridor, bowing his head to his friend, who was holding back laughter. "Saw the charm in Nami's copy of Witch Weekly. Mum reckons we should've gone to a barber, but I reckon it's alright."

"Sorry. Excuse me." Remus squeezed past them.

A large patch on the back of the Hufflepuff's head was near-clean-shaven. "It's pretty short..."

"Careful!" Asher Hillard, a sixth-year prefect from Ravenclaw, came charging toward Remus in the next carriage. "Someone split a box of Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans; two people have already rolled their ankles."

Remus smiled as the prefect stopped before him, kicking a few multicoloured beans back to the edge of the corridor.

"Can't stop for long, I'm afraid. Got to keep patrolling this bloody train."

"Who's on after you?"

"Norris. Though I doubt she'll show." Sighing, Asher straightened up. "Better go. See you at the meeting?"

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