"We're all done in this carriage," you call out to the guard, who tips her hat.
Freddie looks uncertain, his gaze darting between you and the platform, but before he can intervene, the student pelts for the door and stumbles onboard in the nick of time. She crashes into your compartment along with all her belongings.
"Thanks for the help," says the newcomer sarcastically. "You wouldn't believe how bad the trains were."
She flings herself down and puts her feet on the seat with a sigh.
"I'm Zuri Gonzalez, by the way," she says. "New this year. Call me Gonzalez, everyone does."
Gonzalez's complexion is darker than Freddie's, though similar to yours, and where Freddie is scrupulously neat, Gonzalez wears her uniform with haphazard ease. The way she sweeps her thick black hair back from her face gives the impression of someone entirely physically comfortable.