The Hogwarts Express thundered through the countryside, but inside the compartment, Fred and George were entirely focused on interrogation.
They continued questioning Adrian about Madam Malkin’s private catalogue, trying every angle to get him to open his robe box.
Adrian firmly refused to hand it over, though he did admit it concerned custom robe enchantments.
The twins immediately began suggesting increasingly stupid ideas for enchanted clothing: skirts that would automatically lift when someone told a lie, underwear designed to loudly insult Slytherins, robes that would vanish completely during stressful exams, and heavy sleeves programmed to physically slap sleeping students awake during History of Magic.
Adrian laughed and leaned back against the window.
The twins clearly understood enchanted objects far better than their ridiculous suggestions implied.
The compartment door slid open.
Susan Bones stood in the corridor looking for space.
She wore a fitted white blouse, a short pleated skirt, thigh-high socks, an open Hufflepuff-trimmed robe, and ankle boots.
She looked at the benches.
The twins’ massive trunk and scattered prank supplies were blocking most of the available seat.
Instead of retreating, Susan refused to leave and ordered Fred and George to move their luggage.
“Give us a minute, it’s jammed,” George muttered, hauling the heavy brass handles.
Susan stepped into the compartment while Fred and George wrestled the trunk away from the bench.
The train rounded a bend.
The sudden movement knocked Susan sideways just as George dragged the trunk across the floor.
Adrian caught her around the waist before she could fall onto it, and she landed sideways across his thighs.
Susan looked down at his arms around her, then at the trunk blocking the only free seat.
“Hold still,” she said.
“I am not standing in the corridor while they reorganise their criminal workshop.” Adrian loosened his hold but left his hands at her waist.
The accidental landing became much less accidental when Susan settled her weight more comfortably across his lap.
As she settled, her hip pressed against the erection forming beneath Adrian’s trousers.
Susan paused.
Then she shifted once—small, slow and entirely unnecessary.
“Is that because of me,” she asked calmly, “or the hidden catalogue?” “You are currently winning,” Adrian answered smoothly.
Susan’s lips twitched.
She caught both his wrists and placed his hands firmly at her waist.
“Keep them there.” “No higher?” “No lower,” she corrected.
Adrian followed the instruction perfectly, letting his thumbs rest against the warm fabric of her blouse.
“Right, that’s it cleared,” Fred announced, dropping his end of the trunk.
When the seat was finally cleared, Susan did not jump up.
She remained on his lap for several seconds longer than necessary before moving to the opposite bench, her eyes lingering on his.
A few minutes later, Fred and George briefly pulled Adrian out into the narrow, crowded corridor and dragged him a few doors down to introduce him to their younger brother, Ron.
Harry Potter was sitting inside the compartment with him.
Adrian recognised Harry instantly, but he deliberately treated him like any other ordinary student.
Harry clearly appreciated not being stared at or asked about his scar, offering a genuine, relaxed smile.
As they stood in the corridor, Hermione Granger passed by while looking for Neville’s missing toad.
She paused, recognising Adrian from Flourish and Blotts.
Susan had leaned out of the compartment to watch the introductions.
Hermione’s eyes moved briefly from her to Adrian.
“Have you seen a toad?” she asked.
“Not unless one of the twins has hidden it in the trunk.” Hermione gave Fred and George a suspicious look, nodded to Adrian and continued down the train.
Before Adrian and the twins could return to their seats, a sleek metal food cart rattled down the aisle.
The Trolley Witch appeared behind the polished sweet cart, looking more like the owner of a private railway lounge than an ordinary vendor.
She was a mature, full-bodied witch with silver-grey hair gathered into a loose bun, several curled strands framing a knowing face behind narrow spectacles.
Her two-piece black uniform left little to the imagination.
The sleeveless top was made from thin, translucent fabric, tied beneath her heavy breasts and cut low enough to reveal the dark bralette underneath.
Her stomach remained bare above a matching wrap skirt that clung to her wide hips, its layered hem barely reaching the tops of her thighs.
A high opening along one side exposed black panties whenever she moved, while lace-topped stockings hugged her legs beneath the tiny skirt.
Several delicate chains rested against her cleavage, and polished heeled boots completed an outfit that was far too elegant—and far too revealing—for someone selling chocolate frogs from a cart.
She stopped the cart and immediately narrowed her eyes at Fred and George.
She clearly knew them because they had damaged one of her carts during a previous journey.
“We didn’t do anything!” Fred protested, raising his hands.
She pushed the cart forward to pass them.
The front wheel rolled over a small brass clip lying near Fred’s shoe.
The clip snapped shut around the axle, and the cart jerked to a halt.
The Trolley Witch looked at the trapped wheel.
Then she looked at Fred and George.
George quietly moved his shoe over the remaining clips scattered along the floor.
“We did not put that one there deliberately,” Fred said.
A pink screen materialized in front of Adrian.
[RARE TEMPTATION MISSION] [Help the Trolley Witch free the cart while keeping your hands where she places them.] [Bonus: If she deliberately repeats any intimate contact.] [Reward: Mature Route Key Fragment ×2 and 35 PP.] [Decline: No penalty.] “Let us give you a hand with that,” George offered innocently.
The witch refused to let the twins touch the cart again, swatting George’s hand away with a sharp glare.
She looked at the heavy cart, then looked at Adrian.
“You,” she said briskly.
“Help me push.” The corridor was too narrow for Adrian to reach the trapped wheel from beside her.
The witch gripped the cart handle with both hands and tested the wheel.
“The clip is caught against the rail,” she said.
“I need to pull it forward.
Brace me so I do not land on the floor when it releases.” She positioned Adrian directly behind her, reached back and placed his hands firmly on her hips.
“Do not let go until I tell you.” “That sounds manageable.” “It usually does before the cart starts moving.” She bent forward over the handle.
“On three.” They pulled and pushed together, rocking the heavy metal frame.
With a sharp mechanical click, the locked wheel suddenly released.
The sudden forward momentum caused her to stumble back, and her ass ground hard against Adrian’s erection.
She froze.
She paused after feeling him, slowly turning her head to study his reaction over her shoulder.
Adrian did not step back.
He did not make a panicked, stammering apology.
He simply met her gaze and asked mildly whether she still wanted him to push.
The Trolley Witch glanced over her shoulder, amusement visible in her eyes when Adrian met her gaze without stammering or trying to retreat.
He merely asked whether she still needed him to push, earning a faint curve of her lips.
Apparently deciding that his confidence deserved to be tested, she turned back toward the cart but did not step away from him.
Instead, she pressed her hips backward, deliberately dragging her ass over the erection trapped between them.
The slow roll lasted only a moment, but there was no mistaking it for another accident.
“Keep pushing,” she said, leaning over the cart handle as though nothing unusual had happened.
Adrian tightened his grip on her hips and helped guide the damaged cart forward, privately deciding that railway work offered benefits no career adviser had ever mentioned.
Only then did she step away.
She stepped away, elegantly smoothed down her high-slit skirt, and reached into the cart.
She handed Adrian an extra, premium chocolate.
“Helpful passengers receive better service,” she murmured, offering a knowing smirk before continuing down the train.
A small pink text box flashed in the corner of Adrian’s vision.
[Mission complete; rewards stored.] Adrian walked back to his compartment, tossing the chocolate in his hand.
Susan noticed the premium chocolate as soon as Adrian returned to the compartment.
Her gaze moved from the expensive wrapper to the satisfied expression he had failed to hide, and her arms folded beneath her chest.
“What public service did you perform to earn that?” Adrian sat beside her and examined the chocolate as though the answer might be printed on the wrapper.
“Transport assistance.” Susan’s eyes dropped briefly toward the front of his trousers before returning to his face.
She clearly remembered what she had felt while sitting on his lap and had no difficulty imagining how another woman might have noticed the same thing.
“Did the transport sit on you too?” Across the compartment, Fred abandoned all pretence of ignoring the conversation.
George leaned forward with equal interest.
Adrian unwrapped the chocolate and broke off one corner.
“Only during a mechanical emergency.” Susan stared at him for another second, then reached over, took the larger half of the chocolate from his hand, and settled back against the seat.
“Consider that an emergency tax,” she said.