Noxias arrived on Platform 9¾ alone like he did every year. This would be his last year here, and part of him was excited about that and another, terrified. Hogwarts acted as a kind of safety net for the boy, but he was ready to leave it behind, if he could. With an old, rusty, battered trunk in one hand, he got onto the train. He always sat near the back because most people liked to sit in the front where the trolley lady came first and you were always sure to get dibs on whatever you wanted. Noxias found himself a quiet, empty compartment and slid the door open. Stepping into it, he put his trunk up above him on the rack and then sat down, promptly closing the door again. Getting to Hogwarts on the train was always a bit of a trying time for Noxias. If someone wanted to sit with him he generally didn’t turn them down. He was a bit too polite for that. Instead he had to spend his time awkwardly not answering questions until whatever unfortunate person that decided to sit with him got the hint that he didn’t want to be disturbed. A lot of the people in his own year or his house knew that about him already, but there were many others in other houses or other years that didn’t. Noxias glanced out the slightly dirty window towards the families on the platform below. Sighing softly, he ran a hand through his black hair, slicking it back, and then pulling a book out robes he was already wearing. He often wore his robes even when he didn't have to. His clothes were shabby at best, but his Hogwarts robes were nice and well taken care of. Opening the book in his hands, he began reading about palm reading. A lot of people chalked it up to Muggles trying to get in on some magic, but there was an actual skill to it that Noxias found fascinating. Blocking out the sound of the train and the people saying goodbye outside, hew as content to become lost in his book all the way to Hogwarts, providing no one tried to sit with him.