Chapter Three

Jenson tried not to doze off, he really did, but the droning of professor Binns' voice combined with the unnaturally warm classroom was like the gentle hum of cicadas on a warm summer afternoon in the South-Eastern US. The fact that his seat was also situated in a beam of direct sunlight from the large, open window to his left...well that only exacerbated the problem.

To his right, Hermione seemed to be taking notes furiously, occasionally marking in the margins of her notes. Jenson noticed that her pen-quillmenship was extraordinary.

Behind him, he could hear Astrid fidgeting in her seat, occasionally mumbling (whether to herself or Teal, he did not know). He snuck a quick peek behind him and noticed that Teal was almost perfectly mirroring his posture - elbow to table, chin in hand, his quill held loosely in his other hand.

"...and, of course, itching powder has been illegal in Bulgaria ever since. Uric's journey then took him to..." Jenson caught from professor Binns, actually putting forth effort, momentarily, to listen in on the most boring lecture ever presented. Any excitement that Jenson would have normally felt from the novelty of all of this information was buried beneath the culmination of sleep-inducing factors inherent within the classroom and its phantom representative. Somehow, Hermione seemed completely impervious to the effects. A breeze floated in through the open window, tickling his face.

Beneath him, fields and trees passed by almost lazily. A gust of wind ruffled his suddenly longer hair and in his right hand, he held what looked to be a squat baseball bat. His blue and silver robes flapped around him as he grabbed his broom handle and gave it a swift tug up and to the left, flipping around and heading back towards the rest of the team.

"Jenson!" yelled Cho Chang, pointing behind him. He twisted and, spotting a very violent black ball rushing at his face, clobbered it with his bat. He watched it soar away even faster than it had come at him and narrowly missed Roger Davies.

"Jenson..." he heard his name repeated, quieter and with a slight hiss. But as he looked around, he could not find the source. Something grabbed his shoulder.

"Jenson!" Hermione whispered, shaking his shoulder.

Jenson jerked up in his seat, glancing about the room warily, as if it might suddenly disappear. He noticed that his cheek felt damp and that the lone paragraph on his History notes was slightly smeared and likewise damp. He looked at Hermione in confusion. In turn, she stared at him with annoyance.

Not only did you fall asleep, you started to snore... she wrote on an undampened corner of his parchment.

Sorry about that...how do you manage to stay awake? he wrote back. Between his voice and this sunbeam, it's like bathing in a tub of warm milk.

What?! she wrote before flashing him a look of disapproval.

Before he could respond, the bell rang to indicate the end of class and, while professor Binns continued to drone on, students began to slowly pack up, unsure whether they were allowed to leave or not. Hermione's hand shot up.

"Professor Binns."

Binns looked up, apparently startled that there was a room-full of people in front of him.

"Oh...yes Ms. Granger?"

"Do we have homework assigned for tonight?"

A chorus of groans erupted throughout the room, the very loudest coming from Astrid. Professor Binns stared for a moment before something like realization came to him.

"Ah, yes Ms. Granger. I had almost forgotten. I want you all to write 14 inches of parchment on the modification of Ulric's Wizard Zoning Edict and your thougts on the subject. And no, I do not want to read 'it was stupid,'" at which Astrid groaned again, "or any other such rubbish. Class is dismissed."

Hermione and, by association Jenson, recieved a plethera of dirty looks and severe irritation as the four first-year classes packed their things and shuffled past. Astrid, of course, was among them, but suprisingly, even Teal seemed agitated.

"Way to go Herman!" Astrid said with a slight scowl. "He was going to let the class off the hook, but you had to remind him to assign homework. Why in Merlin's saggy drawers would you ask him something like that?"

Hermione looked quite affronted.

"Because homework is an important part of the school curriculum! If he thought that the homework assignment wasn't important, then he would not have assigned one, regardless of my reminder. Right Jenson?" She turned to him, her face red in a mixture of irritation and, perhaps, embarrassment. Jenson put on his best poker face.

"I am not getting involved with this one...right Teal?" At this, Teal gave a brief nod, almost indiscernible.

Both girl's turned to him, each seeming ready to smite him, when inspiration struck him.

"Astrid! We have to run to potions or...uh...bye!" At this, he grabbed both Teal and Hermione by the arm and rushed them to the staircase.

"Jenson! I won't forget this! You owe me!"

"Oh dear lord..." Jenson thought to himself in despair...

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"Open your books to page 25 and read Arsenius Jigger's Introduction to Magical Drafts and Potions to yourself. There will be no need to speak," Professor Snape growled lightly. Although he spoke quite softly, no one in that dungeon classroom had trouble hearing him. On the tallish side, with a slight hunch, long, lanky black hair and a sinister, beak-like nose, Severus Snape was by far the most intimidating person Jenson had met at Hogwarts. Despite Hagrid's great size, he seemed to be quite a cheerful fellow. By comparison, Snape looked as if he could eat a human baby and ask for salt while doing so. The classroom itself, with various potion ingredients scattered about and pictures and diagrams of potions and their effects (Jenson assumed) papering the walls, was very intimidating and the presence of their stalking, bat-like professor silhouetted against the relative gloom of the dungeon did little to quell the inducement of panic attacks. However, Jenson did respect the authority and obvious expertise with which Professor Snape carried himself. While he waited for them to finish the reading, he stalked to and fro throughout the rooms, checking a number of spewing and bubbling cauldrons. Jenson finished reading ahead of the majority of the students, with the exception of Hermione (who had apparently already read the first several chapters and was now taking this opportunity to read even further ahead). Several other Ravenclaws finished soon after and a smattering of Hufflepuffs managed the same before Snape spoke again.

"There, I believe that you have had ample time. Now, where does the word 'potions" come from?"

Several Ravenclaw hands shot up, including Hermione's and Jenson's, as well as a scattered Hufflepuff here or there. Teal's hand remained down as he had not finished reading before Snape had begun his questioning. He seemed to be attmepting to continue reading without Snape noticing. Fortunately for him, Snape's eyes seemed to be very distracted by the number of hands raised.

"You there, the Ravenclaw with the glasses and quaffle-shaped cranium," he said, pointing to Jenson. Jenson did, indeed, have a very round head, so he could not fault him for pointing it out.

"David Shirey, sir. Er, 'potion' comes from the Latin word potio meaning 'drink' or 'beverage'...sir."

"Correct," Professor Snape said grudgeoningly. "Five points to Ravenclaw." He scanned the room again before pointing to a hufflepuff boy with straight, dirty blonde hair.

"Do all potions need to be drank to be effective?"

Hermione's hand shot up, even though she had not been called upon. Jenson had to restain himself from doing the same. He hating knowing the answer to something and waiting to hear someone say it. It felt like a waste of everybody's time. Especially since this boy did not appear to have a clue, even though his odds were 50/50 that he would be correct.

"Ernie MacMillan, sir. And...no, sir. They can be applied, like an ointment, right sir?"

Snape sighed as if Ernie had disappointed him greatly. Nevertheless, Jenson knew that he had answered correctly.

"Although you are technically correct, Mr. Macmillan, you obviously guessed at the answer. In the future, if you offer an answer in such a way, I will consider it wrong. And, depending on the potion, it can be drank, applied or even the very act of creating it can be a catalyst for its effect. Write this down, all of you!"

Jenson saw that this was going to be, perhaps, his most complex class of all...at least so far...

...and, of course, always remember that a clean cauldron is a safe cauldron.

Jenson reread his Potions essay again, all of the way through, before sighing in contentment. Though he was still nervous about being a new resident to the wizarding world, his writing skills had not suffered unduly. In the roughly hour and a quarter that the four of them had been in the library, he had written his Potions essay, finished his Defense Against the Dark Arts essay and begun introductions for his Charms, Transfiguration and History of Magic classes. Jenson had always been a relatively good writer. If nothing else, he was passably entertaining and knew how to fluff a paper without making it an unreadable mess.

While continuing to work on his Defense essay (or rather, while brainstorming and rearranging his notes), he glanced about the group, having tuned them out for the majority of the study session. Astrid, who had apparently either already finished all of her work or had no desire to do any actual work at the moment, was lazily tracing shapes over her parchment while absent-mindedly glaring at the top of Hermione's head. Hermione, obviously impervious to death-glares, continued to write in absolute silence. Judging from the parchments by her elbow, she had already completed at least two of her assignments and was working on finishing a third. Teal, on the other hand, seemed to be concentrating quite hard on his potions essay. While Jenson's handwriting was a bit sloppy, Teal's was quite neat by comparison and suddenly made Jenson feel sorry for the poor soul who had decipher his own essays. Teal finished his Potions essay and began working on another as Hermione suddenly sat up straight.

"Well, that's finished!" said Hermione suddenly, closing the book she had been using. "It's about time for dinner and I, for one, am quite famished. How did everyone else do?"

Teal, startled by her sudden exclamation, jerked his arm and drew a perfectly straight line across his parchment. He looked horrified for a brief second before shaking his head and looking slightly dejected. Jenson tried not to smile, but could not keep a straight face and quickly averted his gaze as Teal, who seemed to sense Jenson's eyes on him, looked up. Jenson, meanwhile, began to pack his things. Astrid rolled her eyes.

"Finally," he heard her mutter under her breathe as Hermione began walking towards the door. Jenson turned to Astrid.

"Why do you let her bother you? She's not trying to get on your nerves, that's just how she is." He stood up and motioned for she and Teal to follow, continuing. "She's obviously not as socialized as you are, so try not to be so hard on her." He grinned to show no hard feelings and shouldered his bag. "Now let's go pork out!"

"But...I don't eat pork..." Teal muttered, fixing his bag over his shoulder. Astrid looked annoyed with Jenson as she gathered her things...

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Jenson waved a tired goodbye to Teal and Astrid at the foot of his staircase. After dinner, Hermione had gone back to the room to continue studies while Jenson, Teal and Astrid had finished their homework and, feeling especially antsy, had explored the grounds. Teal had seemed especially excited about the lake while Astrid had wanted to go meet Hagrid and talk with him about potentially interviewing him. Jenson, on the other hand, had simply been impressed with the overall beauty and mystique of the grounds and surrounding land. However, they were all exhausted and, since curfew was fast approaching, had decided to call it a night.

"Teal, I'll see you at breakfast and lunch tomorrow. Astrid, the same plus Herbology, yay."

They both waved solemnly as he began climbing the Ravenclaw staircase, lost in thought. Teal showed no obvious distaste towards Hermione, but Astrid's annoyance with the bushy-haired Ravenclaw was painfully obvious...well, to everyone except Hermione herself it seemed.

Was it because they were so much alike? They were both brainy, though admittedly, Hermione was a bit more openly enthusiastic about her studies. They both were opinionated, they both seemed to have high standards for themselves and they both were highly motivated to succeed.

Jenson was at a loss for the source of the seemingly one-sided animosity when he reached the eagle-shaped knocker of the Ravenclaw common room. Again, a sultry voice echoed from the Ravenclaw symbol.

"I mean everything to some, and nothing to others. I can bring the strongest to his knees, yet be held by a child."

Jenson stood for several seconds, thinking hard. That could be a number of things. If he got this wrong, would he get another shot?

"Um...an idea?"

Jenson swore that he could almost feel the door smiling at him.

"Quite right," it whispered as it swung open for him to enter. As he stepped in, he saw Hermione, her head buried in a book, sitting in one of the squishy armchairs by the fire. A few older ravenclaws, but none that he recognized by name, sat at a table near the large window overlooking the grounds. Ignoring them, he sauntered over to Hermione, who appeared to be taking a break and staring into the fire.

"Hey Hermione," Jenson said grinning, plopping down in a chair across from hers. "How's your studying going?"

She managed to pull her gaze away from the flickering flames long enough to appear slightly startled by his sudden appearance, but she returned his smile.

"Wonderful. It's all fascinating really. Actually," she said, raising her book from her lap to show Jenson the cover, Hogwarts, A History, "I finished my homework and studies almost an hour ago. I've been reading this since then."

Jenson looked confused.

"I thought that you had already read that. I was going to ask you what I should read first so I can get a better grasp of what I'm in for."

"Oh, I have read it! It's just such an interesting read..." she trailed off, blushing as she stared back into the fire. "I suppose that I am a bit odd, aren't I? Reading like I do..."

"No, no, no," Jenson said earnestly, sitting on the edge of his chair. "That's a wonderful attribute to have. Too many people spend their time watching television rather than reading as it is. If a few of us have to make up for their lost time, then kudos to us."

It was hard to distinguish her blush from the firelight but, regardless, Jenson was satisfied that he had helped prevent a bout of unwarranted self-depreciation.

"So," he continued, "do you have any suggestions? Or should I just start from the beginning?"

"Well, obviously," she said, returning to her 'lecture' voice, "reading it in its entirety would be the best option..." she trailed off, giving him a look that was have admonishing and half amused, "...but if you're truly strapped for time, I'd recommend starting just after the founding of the school and the establishment of the four houses. That's page 112 in my edition," she said, again indicating the cover of her book.

Jenson nodded and gazed into the fireplace, pensive. Hermione noticed his changed in demeanor.

"What's wrong?"

Jenson was silent for several long moments. She seemed to grow more and more nervous as the silence between was only slightly mollified by the cracking of the logs and the muffled laughter of the upperclassmen. Finally, he spoke again.

"I was just thinking."

"About what?"

"Well, a lot of things actually." He turned back to her, his face just as serious as it had been the night they had been sorted. "I was thinking about my mother and brother...how much they probably missed me and how much I already miss them. I was thinking about classes and whether or not I will be able to do well here."

"Well, you're off to a good start so far," Hermione said cheerfully. "You've already completed much of your homework and you did well in both Charms and Transfiguration."

"But what about the culture shock? I've lived in the Southern United States as a muggle for my entire life. I am going to have to adjust to both England and the wizarding world. Not to mention, again, I am fully removed from everything I've ever known. And then, of course, there's this bickering between you and Astrid..." Jenson knew that he had made a mistake the moment he saw Hermione's expression darken.

"Now wait just a minute here," she retorted, "I never started bickering with her, she started on me!"

"It takes two to argue Hermione. Regardless, you both are at fault. She's too short-tempered and you, well...you generally give people more information than they want."

She looked offended, hurt even.

"Oh, is that how it is?" she asked, shutting her book and standing up in a huff. "Well pardon me for trying to be helpful!" She started to walk quickly back towards the girl's staircase. By this point, the older Ravenclaw's had caught wind of the conversation and were pretending not to listen. They were quite unconvincing. Jenson, angry at both her for misinterpreting his statement and at himself for possibly ending a potentially awesome friendship, chased after her.

"Hermione, come back! I didn't mean it in a negative way." She kept walking up the staircase without so much as glancing back at him. He keep hear a slight sniffling echo from the stairway. It broke his heart.

Feeling dejected, Jenson slowly made his way to the male dormitories for a bath and bed, ignoring the whispering students behind him. As exciting as it had been, his first day had ended on a very sour note and he knew that sleep would not come easily that night, if it came at all.

Jenson awoke the next morning with an ache. Well, can someone wake up if they have yet to fall asleep? Regardless, when Jenson finally opened his eyes to get out of his bed the next day, his chest ached terribly. As a young child, he had watched the Discovery Channel for hours and hours, including hundreds of medical specials. Thus, he first began to fear a heart attack as the culprit (after all, he was quite portly and, well, his diet consisted of what could kindly be called "junk food"). But since he a) lacked the accompanying symptoms of numbness in the extremities and a sore jaw and b) was eleven years old, he wrote this off rather quickly.

Instead, he felt that same heart ache he had felt when he had first read Where the Red Fern Grows or saw the ending to Glory. That heart-ache that starts in your chest but rises into the back of your throat and sits there, like a lump of uncooked potato. Suddenly, it hit him. His mistake. His fight with Hermione.

His heart ached harder at the memory.

Jenson could hear some bustled from the surrounding dormitories and, below, heard the barest whisp of voices in the Ravenclaw common room. He wondered what time it was and jolted out of bed and onto the floor before he remembered that he only had one class today, Herbology. And that would be after lunch. Well after lunch. Jenson stood up slowly, his body slowly growing accustomed to its morning tumbling routines, and glanced around for some sort of timepiece. Seeing none, he got dressed and headed down to the common room to see if Hermione was there so that he could apologize for whatever it was that he had done to hurt her feelings.

Upon reaching the normally cozy-looking Ravenclaw common area, he was taken aback at the disarray he now found it in. Several upperclass Ravenclaws were gathered in the center of the room and making all sorts of unrowlingly racket. Of course, being curious, Jenson could not help but investigate. Lying around the group appeared to be a mixture of feathers, ashes, and various fruit rubbish. Upon reaching the crowd and glancing into the circle, Jenson was greeted with a rather astonishing sight.

A disheveled-looking, wrinkled, bird-like thing sat in the middle of the students, pecking feebly at various vegetation around it. Astonishly, it appeared to be smoldering and, even as Jenson watched, began to swell in size and morph its shape until it grew into a beautifully plumaged bird about the size of a large peacock. It shone with a vibrant mixture of reds, oranges, gold, greens and even what appeared to be some shades of blue. Jenson was not sure he had ever beheld such a beautiful sight. Without warning, it gave a longing, sorrowful cry and burst into flames.

"No!" Jenson shouted, unable to contain himself as he started forward, desperate to save the poor creature. A tallish, dark-haired boy with stylish glasses and a remarkably prominent dimple in his chin put a hand on his shoulder.

"Just wait a moment, mate. That's normal." Jenson, noticing a shiny badge with a "P" engraved on it pinned to the boy's chest, identical to Penelope Clearwater's, hoped that he knew what he was talking about as he watched the tragically beautiful animal reduce to ashes before his eyes. He felt that lump in his throat, already induced by his problems with Hermione, threaten to choke him as he stifled a sob.

Wait, what was that? he thought as he noticed the ashes shifting. As he continued to watch, another chick, identical to the one he had walked in upon, shook some ashes from its ruffled feathers and began, again, to peck feebly at the food laid about it.

"It's actually a transfigured simulation of the life-cycle of a phoenix. It's one of our seventh-year's pet projects," said the prefect boy, turning to Jenson with an open hand. "I'm Robert Hilliard, by the way. I believe we have yet to meet."

Jenson was too much in shock and awe to point out that, in fact, they met several moments ago and that his assertion was not quite correct. He felt that antagonizing a prefect on his second day would not be conducive towards a pleasant first year.

Stop trying to make your life more difficult than it needs to be, you douche. Jenson shook the boys hand warily. "I'm Jenson, Jenson Shirey. I'm a first-year."

Hilliard looked immediately more interested. "Oh, are you the American? We had several of them this year, I heard. But only one of them was sorted into Ravenclaw."

Jenson nodded as a few in the group looked up briefly to acknowledge him, give him a once over, and then turn their attention back to the once-again exploding phoenix simulation.

"That's me. Um, by the way, did you see a bushy-haired girl come through here by any chance?"

Robert's face crinkled in thought, making his chin pucker in a way that would have been quite comical to Jenson if he had not felt so emotionally exhausted. He had not slept well last night, either, so he could only imagine what he actually looked like at this point - uncombed hair, dark circles under his eyes, his glasses probably sitting crookedly on his ears.

"You know," started Robert, coming out of think-tank mode, "I do remember a large-haired girl coming through here unaturally early. She was muttering to herself something about 'tactless prats' and studying in the library."

Jenson's heart sank even further. He had hoped that a night's rest would have made her more apt to accept his apology. Ah, now two people are mad at me... he thought, remembering Astrid slight chilliness towards him the previous night. Though she had had mentioned it the rest of hte evening, he sensed that she might be holding a grudge against him for his comment on her and Hermione's relationship.
What a great way to start off the school year. Made a few friends and alienate over half of them with 48 hours. Then again, what was it he had said to Hermione only two nights before? They weren't really friends quite yet?

Regretful, Jenson set out towards the library, intending to meet Astrid and Teal at lunch since, according to a nearby wall clock, breakfast had been over for at least and hour. Will anything go right today?

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Jenson did not expect the library to be very busy this early on a Tuesday morning...and he was not disappointed. The librarian, Madam Pince if he remembered from yesterday, was a very shrewd-looking woman who looked as likely disembowel you as to lecture you for mutilating her precious books. As he entered, she gave Jenson a look of utmost disapproval (probably for not having dressed to the nines for his visit to the library) before signing him in and ushering him past her.

Now that he had a chance to explore the library while searching for hermione, Jenson began to realize just how huge the library was. Apparently, they were in the base of the astronomy tower and, according to Hermione's reading of Hogwarts, A History, it had rooms and secret passages leading all of the way to the topmost floor of the tower. He desperately hoped that she was not hidden somewhere in the top floors.

His hopes appeared to be well founded when, after about 30 or so minutes, he discovered Hermione sitting alone at one of the many study tables situated between the bookshelves. Between the tower's behemoths of mystical knowledge, she hunched over a book, alternating between reading and writing on a sheet of parchment at her elbow. She appeared not to notice him as he approached, so he opted to go for the direct approach.

"Hermione?"

He noticed an immediate hitch in her quillmenship, but then she resumed as if he had never spoken at all.

"Hermione, look, I'm sorry about last night. I don't think you're annoying at all..."

Hermione glared up at him, standing from her chair and putting down her quill hard enough to puncture a hole in her parchment.

"Oh, annoying now, is it? Last night I was a know-it-all busy-body and now I am annoying everyone?!" Her face was flushed, whether from anger or embarrassment Jenson could not tell, and her hair bounced in what would have been a comical way if he had not been so distraught by her reaction. Why could she not be reasonable?

"Hermione..." Jenson began, struggling to keep his cool. What began as heartache was quickly working its way to frustration. And one of Jenson's biggest character flaws was about to make an appearance if he did not end this confrontation soon. "Hermione, that's not what I meant. I only meant that some people may take your help the wrong way. They might think that you are trying to outshine them. It's not any fault of yours, it's just a feeling of inadequacy that people feel when you show how brilliant you are. That's all I meant!" Jenson finished in a rush. "I've already apologized for accidentally hurting your feelings, which was not my intention at all," by this point, her glare had softened and she had averted her eyes to the table, her hair hiding her expression from view while he finished, "but this is all I can do. I hope that you will accept my heartfelt apology. I'd like to remain on good terms with you, Hermione, even friends hopefully."

Jenson took a deep breath to calm his racing heart as he ended his fervent monologue. Hermione, her gaze still turned to the table, slowly slipped back into her seat. For over half a minute, he stood there waiting for a response. When it appeared that there was no such thing forthcoming, he solemnly turned and left, trying to ignore the pain in his stomach and the sniffling behind him.

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After his miserable failure to patch things up with Hermione, Jenson was in no mood for lunch, even one as delicious as the Hogwarts kitchen's concoctions. Instead, Jenson made his way back to the Ravenclaw dormitory and, after several attempts to answer the eagle's riddle, managed to correctly guess, "My shadow". After ignoring the smaller groups of Ravenclaws dispersed throughout the room, he trudged up to his bed, surprised to find the room empty. He collapsed face down, hardly caring if he woke up in time to go to Herbology...

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"Hey, Jenson. Herbology is in 15 minutes, mate. You can't skip the first class of your first year."

Jenson struggled to shake himself awake, recognizing the voice as...

"Anthony," Jenson groaned at Anthony Goldstein, who stared down at him, a concerned look on his face. "Wha-?"

Anthony shook his hand and offered Jenson a hand, who took it gratefully and hefted himself up onto his feet, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. He glanced around for his bag, spotting it just at the foot of his bed. Shouldering it quickly, he motioned back to Anthony.

"Let's get going. And Anthony-?"

"Yeah?"

"Thanks."

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Jenson and Anthony managed to waltz into class with a minute to spare. Since Anthony already had plans to meet two other Ravenclaws for group work, they split from there, but not before Jenson thanked him again for his help. Astrid, looking both frantic and excited at the same time, sprinted towards him and Jenson was unsure is she was going to hug him or strike him. She seemed to meet halfway by tugging on her own hair on both sides of her head while whispering loudly, "Are you okay? You look rough! Teal and I were extremely worried when you didn't show up for two meals! Are you okay?"

Her rapid-fire questioning served to both make Jenson feel more welcome and missed, but it also made him feel awful for not thinking about how his new...friends... might take his disappearance.

"I'm sorry to worry you Astrid, I just had this fight with He-Hermione?" His explanation turned to a question as she appeared at his side, he having completely forgotten that she would share this class with him as a fellow Ravenclaw. Astrid appeared to be all the more annoyed by both Hermione's appearance and her interruption of Astrid's and Jenson's conversation.

"Can we help you?" Astrid asked, sarcasm laid thick and deep in her voice. Hermione, either taking what Jenson had said to heart or, just as likely perhaps, distracted by her own thoughts, turned to Astrid.

"I'm so sorry, but I need to speak to Jenson for a moment. Thirty seconds, tops. After that, I won't say another word all class...unless the professor calls on me of course..." she finished, her face reddening at her final admission. Astrid, apparently locked in an internal struggle, finally said, "Oh, all right then. But after that, I get to talk to him, comprende?" Hermione nodded solemnly and motioned for Jenson to follow her about ten feet away.

Professor Grubbyplank was late, so there was no one to interrupt their conversation.

"Jenson," she said, "I want to apologize for losing my temper with you." The tension in Jenson's stomach began to unknot. "I shouldn't have said those things to you, and I shouldn't have taken your comments as ad hominem attacks. It was unfair to both you and me. Can you forgive me?"

Jenson's relief must have been evident on his face because the moment he opened his mouth to tell her that all was forgiven and that he was simply happy to have her back as a friend, she hugged him hard enough to crack his back.

"Hey!" Came Astrid's cry of outrage, right on cue. As Hermione released Jenson, he gave her a smile and whispered, "Thanks Hermione," before turning his attention back to Astrid.

"I'm sorry Astrid. We just had a bit of a...what would you call it?"

"A tiff, really." Hermione said quietly before Astrid gave her a look and she remembered her promise of silence. With a good-natured smile, she sat at the table Astrid had chosen leaving a space between the two of them for Jenson. Astrid, turning her attention back to Jenson, gave him a questioning look, so Jenson, noticing Professor Grubbyplank finally entering the back of the classroom, promised her, "I'll tell you after class. I promise," before taking his seat. Astrid cursed her misfortune rather loudly and took her seat beside Jenson.

"Don't forget, you owe me Jenson. So this had better be a super-amazing stupendous story for getting me all worked up over it."

Jenson suddenly developed a case of performance anxiety.

Jenson walked quickly down the hall in the direction of the Ravenclaw Dormitory. If his face was not as red as a traffic
light, then greater magic than he could comprehend was at work here. His physical faux pas with Astrid left him slightly
shaken. What sort of monster must she think him to be, now?

"Jenson!"

Jenson narrowly avoided a collision as he looked up to find Hermione waiting for him in the hallway. Other students milled about, so she had stepped aside so as to avoid creating a traffic jam.

She must have passed by me and Astrid to avoid annoying her further, Jenson thought to himself, impressed with her initiative. Jenson appreciated her attempts to smooth things out between her and Astrid, especially since it meant that Hermione had taken what he said to heart. His stomach gurgled in a mixture of hunger and an emotion he did not recognize.

"Hey yourself, Hermione. Were you waiting just for me?"

She appeared a bit embarrassed, but smiled back, regardless. "Yes. I just wanted to make sure that we were on good terms again."

Jenson's grin was on the verge of bisecting his already PacMan-shaped noggin, so he tried to tone it down for fear that he looked slightly insane.

"Absolutely we are. It's good to have you back Hermione. Do, uh, do you want to go look for Teal with me?" Jenson had not seen Teal all day either, so he wanted to let the boy know that he was, indeed, alive. Also, he missed the shy kid. With people he seemed to feel comfortable with, like Jenson and Astrid (and Hermione?), Teal produced a very calming presence.

"Sure. Do you know where he might be?"

"Well, we had probably better check outside first...just so we don't break curfew looking for him." Jenson said looking out of a window.

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After a very quick search on the grounds, Jenson stumbled upon Teal by a lakeside tree, almost literally. He was slumped back against the smooth bark, writing on a slip of parchment just bigger than his hand.

"Teal, what's up?" Teal's head jerked up quickly, indicating that they had completely interrupted his journey within himself.

"Oh, hey Jenson. Hey Hermione. You missed lunch," he said matter-of-factly, training his gaze on Jenson, "and breakfast."

Jenson had to smile at the way that Teal announced his absence, like it was a news bulletin that Jenson had somehow missed.

"Oh, yeah," Jenson said with an air of regret, "It was Hermione's fault." Though he was joking, the effect was immediate.

Teal's expression turned quite serious while Hermione released a very hurt noise, as if one the verge of tears. Jenson initiated immediate damage control. "It...I was just joking, Hermione. I didn't really mean- It was me. It was my fault," he said quickly, shooting an apologetic look to Hermione.

Afterwards, Teal explained that he was writing to his godmother and invited them to accompany him to the Owlery, which they accepted eagerly. Teal carefully folded his letter and slipped it into his satchel and he, Jenson, and Hermione made their way to the Owlery. Jenson was excited to see Ezra again and send some mail home to his family. How would they react to Owl Post?

Hermione seemed to know exactly where she was going, so she eventually pulled ahead to lead the way, Leaving Teal and Jenson to walk side-by-side a few feet behind. Teal, not to Jenson's surprise, did not pester him about his missing breakfast and lunch. Teal seemed to weigh everything he said and did very carefully and seemed to think that, since Jenson's absence did not result in any obvious physical or emotional trauma, it was not his place to ask about it. How different Teal and Astrid are, Jenson marveled.

Reaching the Owlery, Teal whipped out his letter and an assortment of mail-room supplies, including envelopes and stamps, and began packaging his letter for transport. Jenson began writing a letter to his mother and Jason, wishing he had picture to send along with the description. Hermione, likewise, wrote a short letter to her parents. They both waited for Jenson to finish before they (borrowing a few of Teal's envelopes) slipped their letter onto their respective owls' legs and let them soar into the sky, slightly silhouetted by the setting sun. Before departing, Ezra nipped Jenson's finger gently. A lump grew in his throat as she took off after the other two owls, sailing effortlessly from the tall tower into the sherbert sky.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The rest of the week seemed to pass quickly for Jenson. Since he had finished all of his homework almost a week early, he had nothing to keep him distracted during Astronomy class (which quickly became boring once he realized that, other than navigation, it served no useful purpose to Jenson). But Saturday's flying lessons were a different story.

Jenson could be said to have a certain fear, not irrational in any way. He did not have a fear of heights, per se. He did not even fear falling, though the sensation left him feeling rather queasy. No, what Jenson feared was that sudden stop at the end of that long fall, the one that made your insides your outsides. Regardless of how safe Madam Hooch assured them that they all were, as Jenson stood nervously beside his broom alongside Hermione and the other ravenclaws, he could not help but imagine that any one of them might be spending the rest of the next week in the Hospital wing with Madam Pomphery. I wonder if recreating a human spine is possible with magic? he thought to himself. If so, he would feel a little better about all of this broomstick flying and whatnot.

At least he was not the only nervous-looking one. Hermione, several other ravenclaw first-years, Astrid, some short and pudgy Hufflepuff kid, and even the normally smug Malfoy boy looked a tad green in the gills, so to speak. Anthony Goldstein, the Potter boy and, surprisingly, Teal appeared to be at perfect ease, even bored.

After preliminary instructions on commanding a broomstick, their practicals began. Standing beside his broom, Jenson steeled his nerves, trying to ignore all of the other students' attempts.

"Up!" he shouted, his voice equal parts demand and request. In response, his broom handle jerked up off of the ground hard enough to pop his hand smartly, leaving both a nasty whelp and a series of not-so-muttered psuedo-curses from the young ravenclaw. He shot a look around the area to see if anyone had noticed his failed attempt, but luckily, while it had been spectacular, everyone else seemed to be busy with their own failed/successful attempts.

Some, like Teal, managed to not only properly call up and mount their broomsticks, but they were already levitating several feet off of the round. Whether they were experienced or just naturally talented, Jenson did not know, but he felt a stab of envy. The Potter boy was spinning slowly in a circle, smiling all the way. Teal, on the other hand, just sat cross-legged on his broomstick, watching the other students' attempts. Jenson's eyes darted to Hermione, who's broom had not budged an inch, and then to Astrid. Astrid had successfully mounted her broomstick, but her feet had not left the grassy earth. She looked absolutely terrified, which was so out of character for her normally brash, eccentrically excitable self that Jenson felt an immense wave of pity for her. Jenson was not particularly excited to fly through the air outside the safety of a jet, but Astrid's fear was almost palpable, even from this distance.

Shaking his head, Jenson turned his attention back to his own predicament. Was it possible that he was being too...commanding? Maybe the broom took offense at his tone and attempted to teach him a lesson in manners. It was worth a try. Please?.

"Up."

Not much slower than before, but much more controlled, Jenson's broom popped up into his hand perfectly, the smooth varnish feeling warm to the touch. Excitedly, Jenson looked around to see if anyone else had noticed his success. Though Hermione was still consumed in her own attempts, both Anthony Goldstein and Teal noticed. While Anthony applauded him silently, seated atop his broom like a polo player on a horse, Teal gave him a genuine smile, showing the great majority of the teeth in his head. Though Anthony seemed perfectly at ease on his broomstick, Teal, who was now standing on his broom, looked like bird in a tree - perfectly at home and ready to take flight at a moments notice.

Now What? he thought to himself. He looked around and noticed that several others had also reached this point in their trials, though most of the other other students' broomsticks simply floundered around on the ground. Taking a cue from Neville, whom Jenson had seen take off, surprisingly, a few moments before, he mounted the broom and, taking a deep breath, willed his broom to rise beneath him. The handle, still warmer to the touch than it naturally should have been, grew warmer still and his feet lost contact with the greenery as the broom lifted him three or four feet off of the ground.

Though excited by his success, he grew more nervous the further he rose and his will to rise quickly turned into a simple desire to stay afloat. Beside him, Hermione finally noticed his success, having just caused her broom to lift a foot or so off of the ground before flopping back down out of reach.

"How did you do that?" she hissed quietly, her voice both approving and envious.

He grinned back. "You have to be polite, but really mean it. It knows." Hermione looked very annoyed by his answer.

"What do you mean, 'it knows'? It's a broomstick."

Jenson shrugged. "Whatever the enchantment is that is in it must be able to understand both your intention and your will.

If you're too demanding, like I was, " he showed her his hand, which now sported a large purple bruise, causing Hermione to wince, "then it will become uncontrollable. But if you are polite, and firm, it will do what you ask...if it can, of course."

Hermione arched an eyebrow. "How could you know any of that?"

Jenson shrugged and laughed. "I don't. It's just a guess." He floated back down, landing gently next to her as Madam Hooch began gathering up the students. Flying lessons were nearly over for the day.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Classes were speeding up now as many of the professors went from note-taking all period to actual, practical magical application.
In charms, they were learning how to levitate objects ("Le-vi-o-sa, not le-vi-o-sa as Hermione liked to quip, much to Astrid's chagrin) and how to turn cups into thimbles. Jenson managed to swell his cup to the size of a bowler cap before successfully shrinking his and converting into a silvery thumb-cap. Teal, on the other hand, managed to turn his into an ice-sculpture of a boot. Hermione managed her's by the end of their second session (the first to do so) and Astrid...

"What exactly is that? " Jenson asked, scratching his head.

"Whatever it is, it appears to be leaking," pointed out Hermione.

"..." was Astrid's only response.

"I think it just winked at me," murmured Teal.

Professor Snape, by their second class and onward, had them brew or continue brewing a new potion every week, much to Teal's displeasure and Jenson's unease as Teal was a slow reader with the instructions and Jenson discovered that potion instructions were finicky at best and vague at the worst. Hermione and Astrid, Astrid in particular, almost relished in the opportunity to brew new potions, turning it into a contest between the two of them. Snape would almost always praise Astrid over Hermione, even if their potions results were identical, but that was to be expected since Snape was the Head of
Slytherin House.

Professor Sprout had them elbow deep in dragon dung for fertilizing her Devil's Snares. Professor Quirrell, on the other hand, had them reading and analyzing accounts of famous witches and wizards and their battling of the dark arts. One story, of a Mr. Rupert Ballywather, involved him single-handedly subduing a manticore (though, as Professor Quirrell reminded them, he was extremely fortunate that the manticore in question had intense diarrhea during their confrontation).

Professor Binns continued their note-taking sessions and Jenson had yet to make it an entire class without at least daydreaming through half of it. And astronomy, at least to Jenson, was Snoresville, England, the world capital of boredom and tedium.

"At least Professor Binns brings up giant battles and troll rebellions every once in a while," he complained to Astrid, Teal, Hermione and anyone who would listen.

Halloween, which was quite the spectacle (having actual ghosts and house-sized jack-o-lanterns made for an excellent atmosphere), was more of an actual holiday than he was used to. In the states, it was just a commercialized event for selling candy and bad slasher-movies, but here...

"Isn't Halloween the best day ever?!" Astrid squealed with a giggle as she admired the various decorations in the Great Hall. Her outfit looked as if it had been picked out for her by Tim Burton and Fransisco Costa which, combined with her witch's robe, made her really stand out amongst the other students. Hermione's parents had apparently not let her celebrate Halloween with any real extravagance, them being dentists and loathing candy as they did, so other than being able to dress up, she did not see the appeal. Teal's godmother had taught the basics of Halloween, but he had never gone trick-or-treating or celebrated it before. Since Jenson felt that he was too old for Halloween back in the states, Astrid's enthusiasm in the group was literally unmatched. Astrid did not approve.

"Just you wait! I'll plan something for next year that will literally blow your minds."

Teal, understanding what "literally" meant and not understanding hyperbole, looked shocked by her apparent threat on their personal safety.

Finally, the big day of the first Quidditch match of the year was upon them. Astrid, who's father was a member of the Chudley Cannons, was very excited over the upcoming match, especially since it would also be Slytherin's first game. Even better, it was against their (apparently) hated rivals, Gryffindor. Teal did not care one iota about sports, but he did enjoy flying and watching others fly, so he agreed to attend the game with Astrid. Jenson was curious to see his first quidditch match since it sounded so interesting. Hermione, however, did not understand the hype.

"You know, you don't have to come with us Hermioninny," Astrid quipped after Hermione's third questioning of the sanctity of the quidditch pitch. Since Hermione had controlled herself around Astrid since her and Jenson's...conversation, Astrid had almost gotten along with Hermione. However, with Hermione's apparent disinterest in quidditch statistics and team records, and her admission that she thought that quidditch sounded like a "silly game filled with unnecessary violence," Astrid had new reason to dislike the girl. Jenson took a different approach.

"Aw, come on, Hermione...just think of it as a chance to experience more of the wizarding world from a muggle point of view. You should view it as an exciting opportunity."

Teal nodded his agreement while Astrid 'hmphed' with impatience. Teal seemed to have warmed up to the girl, even if he still did not seem fully comfortable around her.

"Well, if you put it like that, I suppose it would be a chance to everybody having fun for a change. It will be a nice break from studying, I suppose."

"You can say that again," mumbled Astrid.

Down on the quidditch pitch, they decided to sit in the section between Ravenclaw and Slytherin. Though the Slytherins generally only had bad blood with the Gryffindor house, they also tended to look down on muggle-born witches and wizards, like Jenson and Hermione, and those who associated with them, like Teal and Astrid. All of them did not think that way of course, but some of the louder ones...

"Oi, Burkeheart! What are you doing bringing mudbloods over to our section?"

Astrid and the group turned to find some dark-haired girl yelling at them from about 3 rows up. Astrid's eyes narrowed in displeasure.

"Pansy, you little twit, leave us the hell alone! We're supporting Slytherin today, right?" she asked, turning back to the group. Everyone nodded in agreement and surprise and Astrid continued, turning her attention back up into the stands at the apparently surprised Pansy. "So mind your own bloody business and watch the bloody game and let us have a good time!" Astrid turned her attention back to the pitch, 'hmphed' and, straightening her skirt, sat back down. Jenson thought that he heard applause somewhere behind them ,but maybe he was simply imagining that because that whole scene had felt like something out of a movie.

"Nice one, Astrid," Jenson said with a grin.

Astrid started to reply, but a booming voice interrupted her.

"Ladies, gentlemen and Slytherins-"

"Jordan!" a voice interrupted in annoyance.

"-uh, welcome to the first Quidditch match of the season! Today pitches Gryffindor versus long-time rival and, sadly enough, last year's champions, Slytherin!"

This ended with a roar of approval from the Slytherin section, including Astrid who literally screamed with apparent delight. Poor Teal, who sat next to hear, looked shocked by her sudden outburst and rubbed his right ear miserably.

Hermione noticed and leaned over Jenson.

"Here, Teal," she said sympathetically, waving her wand over his head. She in turn did the same for Jenson and herself.

Immediately, the incredible roar of the crowd fell to a much more manageable level.

"It's a simple charm that balances out noise levels," Hermione explained to Jenson's questioning look.

"Wow, thanks Hermione. I'm already thankful that you came with us," Jenson said with no little gratitude. Hermione just smiled, her cheeks reddening.

From the pitch, a loud whistle blast resounded and all ten of the players on the pitch, plus Madam Hooch, rose into the air and the game began.

“And the Quaffle is taken immediately by Angelina Johnson of Gryffindor — what an excellent Chaser that girl is, and rather attractive, too —”

“Jordan!”

“Sorry, Professor.”

Jenson was not sure who was doing the commentating, but it was worth coming to the game just to hear him. It was obviously a Gryffindor.

“And she’s really belting along up there, a neat pass to Alicia Spinnet, a good find of Oliver Wood’s, last year only a reserve — back to Johnson and — no, the Slytherins have taken the Quaffle, Slytherin Captain Marcus Flint gains the Quaffle and off he goes — Flint flying like an eagle up there — he’s going to sc— no, stopped by an excellent move by Gryffindor Keeper Wood and the Gryffindors take the Quaffle — that’s Chaser Katie Bell of Gryffindor there, nice dive around Flint, off up the field and — OUCH — that must have hurt, hit in the back of the head by a Bludger — Quaffle taken by the Slytherins — that’s Adrian Pucey speeding off toward the goal posts, but he’s blocked by a second Bludger — sent his way by Fred or George Weasley, can’t tell which — nice play by the Gryffindor Beater, anyway, and Johnson back in possession of the Quaffle, a clear field ahead and off she goes — she’s really flying — dodges a
speeding Bludger — the goal posts are ahead — come on, now, Angelina — Keeper Bletchley dives — misses — GRYFFINDORS SCORE!”

Gryffindor cheers filled the cold air, with howls and moans from the Slytherins. Beside them, Astrid was pitching a fit.

"Those idiots, what are they doing up there?! Their Beaters need to be working together, not on their own like two nitwits!

And those Chasers..." she continued.

From Cho Chang's explanation on the night he was sorted, Jenson knew that the Beaters' jobs were to use their clubs to hit the flying black balls to knock opponents off of their broomsticks. To Jenson, that seemed like the most exciting position of all.

“Slytherin in possession,” Lee Jordan was saying, “Chaser Pucey ducks two Bludgers, two Weasleys, and Chaser Bell, and speeds toward the — wait a moment — was that the Snitch?”

A murmur ran through the crowd as Adrian Pucey dropped the Quaffle, too busy looking over his shoulder at the flash of gold that had passed his left ear.

The Gryffindor seeker, a small blond boy whom Jenson did not recognize, seemed to see it as well. In a great rush of excitement he dived downward after the streak of gold. The Slytherin Seeker, Terence Higgs, had seen it, too. Neck and neck they hurtled toward the Snitch — all the Chasers seemed to have forgotten what they were supposed to be doing as they hung in midair to watch.

The Gryffindor's seeker was faster than Higgs — he was almost on the little round ball, wings fluttering, darting just ahead of him, and he seemed to put on an extra spurt of speed — WHAM! A roar of rage echoed from the Gryffindors below — Marcus Flint had blocked the Gryffindor's seeker on purpose, and sent his broom spinning off course, the poor boy holding on for dear life.

“Foul!” screamed the Gryffindors.

Madam Hooch spoke angrily to Flint and then ordered a free shot at the goal posts for Gryffindor. But in all the confusion, of course, the Golden Snitch had disappeared from sight again.

Somewhere in the stands, Jenson heard someone screaming "Red Card!"

“What are they talking about?” He wondered aloud.

The announcer seemed to find it difficult not to take sides.

“So — after that obvious and disgusting bit of cheating —”

“Jordan!” growled a voice, which Jenson finally recognized as Professor McGonagall.

“I mean, after that open and revolting foul…”
“Jordan, I’m warning you—”

“All right, all right. Flint nearly kills the Gryffindor Seeker, Beckett, which could happen to anyone, I’m sure, so a penalty to Gryffindor, taken by Spinner, who puts it away, no trouble, and we continue play, Gryffindor still in possession.”

A black shadow raced through the air, catching the Gryffindor Chaser, Katie Bell, by surprise, knocking her off of her broom. She dropped the Quaffle, much the the delight of the Slytherins and the dismay of the Gryffindors.

“Slytherin in possession — Flint with the Quaffle — passes Spinnet — passes Bell — hit hard in the face by a Bludger, hope it broke his nose — only joking, Professor — Slytherins score — Oh no…”

SLytherin's seeker, Higgs, suddenly dove at the ground, almost perpendicular to the ground below. Beckett dove with him, apparently hoping to catch up with the green and silver blur below him, but it was to no avail. Higgs suddenly pulled out of the dive, not 5 meters from the grass below, something glittering in his fist.

"And that's the snitch! Slytherin wins, a hundred and sixty to ten," Jordan finished solemnly. Behind them, the Slytherin house was ecstatic, cheering and shouting taunts at the Gryffindor house. Jenson thought that, all in all, most of them seemed to be pretty sore winners. On the other hand, quidditch was a pretty exciting sport. He could understand the excitement around it.

It was like a mixture of rugby, soccer and baseball combined with a Blue Angels demonstration. Astrid was riding Cloud Nine, her earlier feuding with Pansy apparently forgotten.

"The Slytherin team needs to beef up their game, especially their offense, but how awesome was that seeker?"

"He certainly takes his risks, but certainly worked out well for him, didn't it?" Hermione mused aloud.

"He flew well," Teal agreed.

"Awesome," murmured Jenson.