its just magic

The Slytherin first-years were more than ready when the day for quidditch lessons finally rolled around. By this point, Neil had more or less learned most of their names and defining traits, namely if they were a threat or not. Most of them resembled his dormmates: eager and determined to prove themselves. They all had awaited this day impatiently, especially those who hadn’t grown up with magic and had never ridden a broom before. Granted, there weren’t very many non-purebloods first years, only Neil, Jack, and a red-headed girl who was the only muggle-born in their year. Neil hadn’t interacted with her much, other than being bench mates in Transfiguration. Katelyn seemed to hold her ground well enough against those in their house who gave her shit for her muggle upbringing, and she had a better grasp on magic than Neil by far. He respected her and thought her more tolerable than the other girls in their year who seemed to have a problem closing their mouths and knowing when to shut up.

The first years followed Professor Moriyama out onto the quidditch grounds, joining Professor Wymack and his Gryffindor first-years who were already waiting on the field (“Try-hards,” Will muttered to Neil and Sean, who nodded absently). The two professors gathered everyone in a group, forcing them to intermingle with the other house before Wymack began speaking.

“All right, everyone, all here? Okay, as you know I’m Professor Wymack, and here’s Professor Moriyama” he gestured lazily toward the said man before continuing, “and today you all will be learning how to fly, albeit poorly.” He continued droning on about safety protocols and proper flying procedures while Neil used the time to study the opposing Gryffindors. He vaguely recognized them from their shared classes together. None seemed particularly interesting or threatening so Neil turned his attention back to Wymack, who seemed to be wrapping up the whole “safety first and please do not knock each other off the brooms” talk.

“All right, now raise your hand if you’ve flown or played quidditch before.” The vast majority of hands raised and then directed to follow Moriyama further down the field. The remaining were corralled to Wymack, consisting of Jack, Neil, the red-headed girl, and six other Gryffindors. Katelyn hovered closer to Neil and Jack, while the other Gryffindors stood off to the side, a clear line drawn. Wymack, to his credit, simply rolled his eyes before directing them over to the line of brooms laid out and instructed them to stand to the side of the broom and hold out their hand.

The ensuing five minutes were a disaster, to say the least. It started out strong with Jack’s broom hitting him square in the nose, and a flood of blood began rushing out, much to Neil and Katelyn’s amusement. A few of the Gryffindors snickered behind their hands until Katelyn shot them a fierce glare in response. Neil was beginning to like her more and more.

Neil’s amusement was only heightened when his broom snapped directly to his hand, much to Jack’s annoyance and dismay. Katelyn got hers on the second try, while none of the Gryffindors could even get it off the ground. Wymack gave them an approving look that morphed into a mix of pity and disgust as he took in Jack’s bloody face. Neil couldn’t help snickering at the state of his friend, with blood continuing to gush down his face while he fruitlessly tilted his head back and tried to stem the flow. Wymack eventually sighed before glancing at the Gryffindors, all of whom had still failed to get their broom off the ground, much to Neil’s satisfaction.

Wymack grunted before gesturing and saying, “Take him to the infirmary. You two have already accomplished the majority of today’s lesson anyway.” Neil couldn’t help the sharp sting of disappointment in his gut at finally being so close to flying, until he looked at his friend and sighed. He did need that checked out, unfortunately. Katelyn, however, was looking at the events with a perplexed face, as if she couldn’t fathom why this was suddenly her problem too. Nonetheless, both of them hauled Jack to his feet and began lugging him to the hospital wing.

A new problem arose ten minutes later, once they were within the castle and well on their way: none of them knew where the hospital wing was. They stood awkwardly in the middle of a corridor, Jack still pressing his shirt to his nose, which thankfully seemed to be slowly subsiding in the ebb of blood.

“Do, um, either of you happen to have a map?” Katelyn asked, awkwardly, and Neil couldn’t help but return the sentiment. None of them had interacted in length before, and Jack was too busy holding his face to blabber on incessantly like normal.

“Nell haf a mafic maph,” Jack said behind his shirt wadded to his face. Katelyn arched an eyebrow at the incoherent statement, and Neil sighed.

“My magic map is broken, so no. We do not have a map.”

To her credit, Katelyn seemed to take it in stride and nodded. “I know it’s on a wing, somewhere,” she said confidently.

“Its name is literally the Hospital Wing.” Neil deadpanned, staring at the girl.

“My point exactly.”

Neil took a moment to stare at the increasingly strange girl before shaking his head and continuing, “I vote we go that way.” He pointed down the hallways and got a shrug from Katelyn and a thumbs up from Jack in response. They continued that way for a while, to no avail. At one point they passed their charms classroom and peered in to look for Professor Winfield. The classroom was empty and silent though, so they continued on their way. They passed a few students striding down the corridor, who simply looked at them curiously before walking away.

“Why don’t we just ask one of them for directions?” Katelyn asked after they passed an older Hufflepuff, who completely ignored them and wore dark sunglasses, even though they were indoors. Neil thought it was strange, but Katelyn had simply giggled at it and moved on.  

“Be my guest,” Neil said, in response to her question.

“Well, I don’t want to be the one to do it. They’ll look at me funny”

“It was your idea,” Neil insisted, cutting the girl an impatient glance.

“Well, yes, so I’ve already contributed enough to this cause. Your turn.” She said all this with a small skip in her step and a smug smile in the corner of her mouth. Neil just glared at her, but silently resolved to ask the person they passed for directions.

After another five minutes of walking, they saw a figure with a blue tie heading toward them, arms full of books. Katelyn gave Neil a meaningful look, to which Neil rolled his eyes at. However, his mouth was open to flag the approaching student’s attention when he realized he recognized the Ravenclaw. It was the cursing Frenchman, of all people.

Neil soon felt a sharp stab in his side as Katelyn elbowed him for his moment of hesitation. Well, the Frenchman hadn’t seen him before Neil stole his map, so for all purposes and intents Neil hadn’t ever met this boy before.

“Hello, um, excuse me?” Neil called out, annoyed at the voice crack that came out halfway through. Jack and Katelyn giggled at that at his side, so he elbowed her in return. The other boy’s head shot up, clearly not paying attention to where he was going and hadn’t seen them until then. He turned around, confused, as if thinking they were talking to someone behind him.

“Yes, you.” Neil couldn’t help the exasperation seeping into his voice. “Do you know how to get to the infirmary?”

“Well, yes, I think. Are you lost?” the boy’s voice was laced with a French accent, confirming what Neil already knew from their last encounter.

“No, we’re just wandering around and are wondering where the Hospital Wing is for funsies. Yes, we’re lost. Can you tell us how to get there?”

“Yeah, yes, sure.” The Frenchman rattled off a list of directions while Jack stared at him, increasingly suspicious.

“You’re French!” Jack suddenly exclaimed, having removed the shirt from his face to speak. Both Katelyn and the other boy started at the sudden yell, while Neil didn’t react other than to slap Jack on the back of the head.

“That’s not something you just yell out at people,” Neil said accusingly, staring at his roommate in disapproval.

“What, it’s not like it’s not true! He’s French!” Jack said, gesturing wildly and turning a critical eye on the Frenchman.

“Yes, we do exist. Wonderful observation,” the boy said drily with no small amount of disdain in his voice.

Katelyn winced from Neil’s side and finally decided to step in. “Okay, so, so sorry Mister Frenchman-,”

“Monsieur, he’s French.” Neil corrected.

“But our friend’s been nailed in the head recently and clearly isn’t acting properly-”

“No, he’s always like this.” Neil corrected again.

“He CLEARLY isn’t acting properly and needs dire medical attention-”

Neil opened his mouth again but was cut off when Katelyn hit him hard over the head and slapped her hand over his mouth. “Ow!” he sputtered indignantly while she ignored him, keeping him in a chokehold.

“So please, Monsieur” (she pronounced it so terribly that both the Frenchman and Neil flinched) “Frenchman, please direct us to the infirmary.”

The boy just stared at the three of them, and Neil was sure they were quite a sight to see: Katelyn holding Neil in a chokehold, her hand covering his mouth while he tried his best to wiggle free. Jack had removed himself from the conversation as his nose began to bleed profusely again, dripping red blood all over the stones of the castle.

“Redheads,” the boy muttered disdainfully in French before continuing in English, “follow me.”

They made it the rest of the way to the infirmary without major incident. It turns out they were rather close, and probably would’ve made it eventually even without the Frenchman’s help. Katelyn kept up the small talk with the Frenchman, inevitably feeling bad about the whole thing. The other boy replied in short, curt responses to her questions, and didn’t ask any in return.

“Jean Moreau.” When she asked his name.

“Ravenclaw.” When she asked him about his house. He accentuated this one-word answer with a gesture at his tie, obviously impressed by her brilliant deduction skills. Katelyn, to her credit, was stubborn as a mule and plowed on.

“First.” When she asked him his year.

“Pureblood.” When she asked about his family (even though Neil was sure she wasn’t asking about his blood ‘purity’).

“Younger sister.” When she pressed about the family matter.

“Elodie.” When she asked her name.

“Defense Against the Dark Arts.” When she asked about his favorite class.

Neil had to admit he was impressed by the girl’s tenacity. He would’ve long opted for silence at this point, but yet she still pressed on with her questions, a bright but semi-fake smile plastered on. Neil finally grew tired of the one-way chatter and inserted himself in the conversation.

“What’s your favorite class?” he asked Katelyn, seeing as that seemed to be his go-to icebreaker. If it worked on Day though, surely it would work on her.

Sure enough, her smile brightened, and Neil could tell it was genuine now. “Charms,” she said happily and began babbling on about how she found what they were doing so interesting. Neil joined in, saying that was his current favorite now as well.

“Favorite used loosely, as in the one I have had the least explosions in,” Neil explained when she prodded him further.

She laughed before asking about his other explosions, to which he had to then explain in the vaguest way possible. Or he would’ve explained vaguely if Jack hadn’t jumped in and shared the embarrassing explicit details of the fires to Neil’s annoyance (payback for laughing at his nose earlier, Jack said smugly). Even Moreau seemed to pay attention to the stories though, softly chuckling when it came to the part when half of Neil’s eyebrow was singed off and Professor Moriyama had to regrow it.

The rest of their walk went by quick, and eventually, they dropped Jack off to have his nose reset in place (turns out he broke it, the bastard) before heading off to dinner. It was a strange group, the three of them, but Neil found he didn’t mind, even when Jean started cursing Katelyn out in French while she cackled at him. The Frenchman split off when they reached the Great Hall to go sit with his house while Katelyn and Neil made their way to the Slytherin table, and stopped when they came to Neil and his dormmates’ usual place. Sean and Will were already there and were deeply engrossed in a conversation about two professors they thought were banging. Neil sat down while Katelyn hovered almost awkwardly behind him, seemingly reluctant to return to her group of girl friends, who were laughing obnoxiously a few seats down. Neil shrugged and gestured for the girl to sit next to them, to which she beamed in response before plopping down. Sean and Will accepted her presence without question and soon drew her into their conversation while Neil scooped a heaping of food onto his plate. Soon Kevin showed up, and it didn’t take long for the conversation to turn to quidditch, Katelyn eagerly joining in. He seemed more than enthusiastic to have a new person to talk about quidditch too, and before long, Katelyn was melded into their table as if she had always been there. Neil wondered about it briefly, before concluding that this was what happened with Kevin too. This is how friends are made, he thought curiously. He had never had friends before. He didn’t have time, while on the run with his mother.

He felt a small smile begin to creep across his lips, even as Will and Kevin launched into an overly dramatic argument over the best professional keeper in the league, Will going so far as to throw a piece of pie at Kevin’s face when he began talking too loudly. Kevin sputtered indignantly while Neil and Katelyn roared with laughter at Kevin’s pied face. Their laughter only grew as Jack eventually returned from the infirmary and immediately launched into a hilarious rendition of the day’s events, mimicking the broom slapping into his face and pressing into a horrible impression of Jean’s French accent, leaving all of them laughing to the point of clutching their sides in stitches.