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There was a strange conflict of emotions going on in Fynley’s mind regarding heading back to school for his sixth year. On the one hand education wasn’t really his thing, not the academic side of it anyway. With a string of terrible grades and probably a whole new set of disappointed faces from his Professors (although with Hernandez gone at least he didn’t have to relive detention again), his choices in terms of classes were somewhat limited. On the other hand, socially Fynley quite enjoyed being around others and Hogwarts meant he didn’t have to go far to find someone to talk to. His home life didn’t leave much to be desired either with disappointed parents who barely even acknowledged him.
Said parents hadn’t even come to the station to say goodbye that morning and so Fynley had travelled alone, lugging his suitcase around on the Muggle London Underground and over to Kings Cross where the effort alone had made his brow break out in a little sweat. He’d briefly considered joining the Schultz’s but with the two youngest heading to Hogwarts for the first time he’d feel guilty for intruding on valuable family time and decided against it for now.
To the back of the train he went, slipping into an empty compartment where he dumped his rucksack on the ground and flipped into the seat. His long legs extended to the seat opposite him and arms folded across his chest as he nonchalantly glanced out the window at the other arriving students hoping for someone he knew.
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