Timothy & OPEN
Timothy's headache hadn't left him since he'd posted about it, but it had been joined with a sore throat, earache, wracking cough and nausea. It was the latter that he found hardest to cope with, especially as the cough had finally eased and his ears and throat didn't feel like he'd deepthroated a hot poker any longer. The headache was still hanging around like an affectionate cat but the nausea - he'd taken anything and everything he could to quell it but it overcame him anyway and he'd thrown up at the station before going on to the magical platform.
If it was being back in the Wizarding World or if that final throw up had cleared whatever it had been out of his system he didn't know but he felt much better as he boarded the train. He still opted for a smaller compartment where he curled up like a cold kitten in his robes, using his luggage like a pillow to lean against so his head wasn't hitting glass. He'd arrived stupidly early so he was yawning a lot as well, his kitty tail curled up in his lap but covered over with his robe; he was sure he'd be able to tuck it away before the train started filling up properly and he knew it would kink and cramp up during the journey anyway.
He was still a little shaken by the realisation that Stephen hadn't told him he was getting married, more because it made him doubt their friendship rather than because he'd been expected to be invited to the wedding. He knew they weren't really that close, he didn't think he was really that close with anyone including the boys he'd slept with, but he thought someone would have told him. It was his own fault really for not reading the newspapers. Still, he knew (thought he knew) that Stephen hadn't meant anything by it and he was planning to make the wobbly rocking trip down the corridors when the train left to look for the Ravenclaw boys and see if he could say hi - he'd missed everyone and was truly happy to be going back to school. He thought he'd even trek down to see if he could find Theodore as well and say hi, if the other boy wanted to; he didn't know if a seventh year would care about some lowly sixth year making a nuisance of himself for some scraps of affection.
He hated being on his own though and the loneliness pressed into him; it wouldn't be much longer before he broke and went in search of some other early passengers.