02-04-2007, 05:36 AM
Professor Badragon disembarked the train. He nodded to the elderly Keeper of the Keys, who nodded in return, displacing straggly grey hairs over his face. "First years, to Mister Feltburn, please!" he called out to the students. "First years to Mister Feltburn! That's this chap here, lad..." he said, pushing a slightly befuddled looking non-discript first year to him.
The Professor headed up to the carrages. The wind was strong today, and his robes billowed a little behind him as he pulled his matching navy cloak around him. He couldn't see the Trestles, but he boarded, confident they were there, as older students climbed into the others.
"I hope the feast's good this year: the snack lady seemed to have disappeared."
The Professor headed up to the carrages. The wind was strong today, and his robes billowed a little behind him as he pulled his matching navy cloak around him. He couldn't see the Trestles, but he boarded, confident they were there, as older students climbed into the others.
"I hope the feast's good this year: the snack lady seemed to have disappeared."