Inside the train, Hermione Grey was crouched on one of the worn-down blue seats. Outside the steamy window, the hills rolled and snow swirled, skidding on anything in its path. Cars shivered in the tight grasp of the winter weather. Hermione tugged yet another thick blanket over her legs. Her hands collided roughly, begging for warmth. Bitter wind punched the window – fighting the slight warmth of the heater. The lights had frozen over and voices echoed in her head. Ice had slugged lazily over the thick glass window. To her surprise, the train carriage door slid open and a hooded figure emerged, creeping towards her. Hermione had never seen a dementor before, until now…