Cool
The next morning, I wake up to the sound of the shower running. Marlene, whose hair is bleached to death, has had a complicated hair care routine for as long as I can remember, including the longest showers known to woman. A glance at the bed next to me tells me that it is her in there—of course it is—so I give up hope of showering this morning and drag a brush through my hair instead.
Mary yawns from behind me. “Good morning.”
“Morning,” I reply. “Can you do something about this?”
I gesture to my hair, which is somehow making a few right angles. The fiery redness is enough of an eyesore, I don’t need to now be creating abstract art with it.
She laughs. “I can try.”
While Marlene prefers the analog way of hair care, Mary is a glamour charm genius. We don’t learn glamour charms in school because they’re not considered essential (in a curriculum written by men, no doubt) but Mary’s done a lot of her own research. Her own brown hair is always perfectly styled like Farrah Fawcett’s.
She casts a few spells on the back of my head and my ginger mess lies magically flat again.
“Thanks,” I say.
Mary gets dressed quickly and bounces over to the door. “I’m going to meet Pat before breakfast,” she says.
“Okay,” I say. “See you down there.”
When she leaves, it’s just me and the sound of the water running. I get dressed in the mirror, then fasten my silver prefect’s badge to my tie and make sure it’s straight.
“Marlene.” I bang on the toilet door. “I’m going to breakfast.”
“Okay!” She yells back.
Mary’s not in the Great Hall when I get there, so I scan the table for somebody else to sit next to.
My eyes settle on Remus Lupin. Even though he’s more Potter’s friend than he is mine—he’s one of four in their little gang of troublemakers—I actually quite like him. And he’s sitting alone right now, which means I for once get a chance to talk to him without the other three buzzing around like pestilence.
“Morning,” I say, sitting down across from him.
“Hey, Lily.” He smiles. “How are you?”
I shrug. “Fine. I couldn’t really sleep last night.”
“Me neither,” he says. “I never can before the first day of classes.”
Suddenly, someone comes up next to me. We both look up to see the new student, Thomas Riley, starting to sit down.
“Is it okay if I sit here?” American accent. It’s the first thing I notice, and the first thing Remus notices too, judging by the way his eyebrows raise.
“Um, sure,” I say, scooting over to make room.
“Thanks.” He sits down. “I’m Tommy, by the way.” Tah-mmy.
“I’m Lily,” I say. “Nice to meet you.”
“Remus.”
Tommy shakes my hand, then Lupin’s. “What grade are you guys in?” He asks, taking a bite of eggs.
Grade , I think. Year . “Sixth,” I answer.
“Oh, me too. We’ll be in class together, right? At my old school, the whole grade had class together, but Hogwarts is so big I bet you guys don’t do that.”
Remus and I exchange an amused glance. You guys .
“Uh, right,” Remus says. “We’re paired by house in each class.”
Tommy nods.
“Where did you transfer from?” I ask before the conversation can get away from me.
“Ilvermorny,” he answers.
Oh , I think. That makes more sense. Ilvermorny is the American magic school, though beyond that I know nothing about it.
“How come?” Remus asks.
Tommy’s blinding smile flickers for a moment, and then he half-laughs. “Long story.”
Slyly, I try to study him. That trendy haircut, and a face straight out of Hollywood. He looks like the lead in an American high school film. I wonder if Ilvermorny is anything like one of those fictional schools.
“Where are you from?” I ask.
“Santa Barbara?” he answers, his voice going up at the end as if I might know where that is. “It’s in California. Near L.A.”
Aha, so I guessed right. Los Angeles—maybe that’s why he talks like a caricature of a surfer.
“Hey, mate.”
Potter and Black sit down on either side of Remus, and I groan internally. There goes a potentially interesting conversation. It can only get more moronic from here on out.
Black nods at me. “Morning, Evans.”
“Black,” I say. I grind my teeth and force the word out. “Potter.”
“Lovely morning, isn’t it, Evans?” He’s grinning for god knows what reason. “Who’s your friend?”
God, how idiotic does he get? How am I supposed to answer that?
Luckily, Tommy answers for himself, unfazed by Potter’s terrible manners. “I’m Tommy,” he says, sticking out his hand for Black and Potter to shake. “You’re... Potter?”
“James Potter,” he corrects, as if he were saying James Bond. “Lovely to meet you.”
I feel like I’m witnessing a meeting of two unstoppable forces, and something is going to spontaneously combust if they’re left to interact for too long. I look at Remus, and his expression confirms it. I look back at Potter, who has his nose high in the air, and almost want to laugh at him. What is he, threatened? By a newer, more handsome face? I’d love to see Potter knocked down a peg.
Mary and Marlene appear eventually, and we walk to our first class together, which is Potions. Tommy is ahead of us, being shown the way by Eric Hodge. I can already tell he’s becoming a hot commodity that everyone is looking to get their hands on.
Marlene sighs wistfully at his back. “God he’s fit. And Santa Barbara, how glamorous.”
“You’d never heard of Santa Barbara five minutes ago,” I point out.
“I’m enlightened now,” she says. “Don’t pretend you’re so above it, Lil. You’re flattered he came to sit next to you. Hey, maybe there is some hope for your love life after all!”
I laugh. “That’ll be the day.” But she’s not wrong. Of course I’m flattered, of course I think he’s fit. Of course I want there to be some hope for my love life after all. I’m just not convinced.
“Everybody’s going to be vying for him anyway,” Mary says. “The first new face in... well, ever, I guess. Since first year.”
“Yeah,” I say, watching Potter, Black, Lupin, and Pettigrew gallivanting up ahead. “And some really get old.”
I sit next to Marlene in Potions while Slughorn bumbles about in the front of the classroom. Despite myself, I look around the classroom to where Tommy is sitting with Eric Hodge and study his side profile.
“Look at that,” Marlene whispers in awe.
I look away quickly, embarrassed to be caught staring. “He’s just taking notes.”
“Hey, you’re studious,” she says, nudging me. “You two have so much in common.”
“Shut up,” I say, trying not to smile.
After Potions, we stand outside the door waiting for Mary. Tommy walks up to us before she does, and Marlene raises her eyebrows at me completely conspicuously. I send her a cease-and-desist look.
Tommy is looking down at his schedule, luckily oblivious to our nonverbal argument. “Hey, do either of you have Care of Magical Creatures next period?”
“I do,” I say. “Marlene?”
“No, I’m not taking it,” she says. “But Lily’ll show you the way to Hagrid’s.”
“Thank you,” he says, flashing a smile at me.
My face feels hot. “Sure.”
Marlene gives me a meaningful look as we walk away.
Tommy follows me through the crowded hallway until we get into the courtyard. There’s room here for us to walk next to each other, which means I have to make conversation. I wrack my brain for something to say.
“Did you take Care of Magical Creatures at Ilvermorny?” is what I come up with.
“No, we didn’t have it,” he answers. “I think that’s why I have to take it now.”
“Yeah, most people don’t take it in sixth year,” I say.
“Sixth year,” he repeats. The words sound funny in his accent. “That’s cute.”
At that, my cheeks burn and my voice fails me. I avoid looking at him as we pass through the entrance to the courtyard and start down the hill. For a second, I try to imagine what Tommy’s thinking as we walk to Hagrid’s. The castle is beautiful with its towering flagstone spires and diamond-paned glass, and the grounds are green and sprawling. Hagrid’s hut is just on the edge of the forest, which is about as far as we’re allowed to go.
“So how come you’re in this class then?” He asks, breaking the silence.
“Um, well after the O.W.L.s you’re supposed to take classes for possible future careers, and I sort of think I might want to be a healer, so I thought it made sense—”
“Evans!”
I turn around to see Potter jogging toward us.
“Oh, for heaven’s sake,” I mutter.
“Hi,” he says as he catches up with us. “Are you going to Hagrid’s?”
“Well now I wish I wasn’t,” I grumble.
“And you as well, Riley?” He asks, ignoring my insult.
“Tommy,” he corrects. “Yeah.”
“Lucky us,” Potter says as we continue walking. “Everybody else has a free.”
“Everybody?” My stomach drops at the thought. I’m going to be stuck between these two as they butt heads for the entire year?
“Well, not everybody,” Potter amends, motioning ahead of us to where a few other Gryffindor robes make their way down the sloping lawn.
Relief floods through me. “Oh. Who is that?”
He shrugs.
“Why are you in this class, James?” Tommy asks, peering over my head to look at him. “Lily was saying that most people don’t take it in sixth year.”
“Well, it was this or Divination with my schedule,” Potter answers, “so the choice was clear. And all that bullshit about career-focused classes doesn’t matter with the war anyway.”
We fall silent. I know almost nothing about the war, and I always feel so ignorant whenever it comes up. I usually avoid the subject altogether, but Potter has a talent for making me feel my worst, so of course this is where a conversation between us would lead. I don’t know why Tommy’s so quiet, though. I wonder what he’s thinking. I wonder what all of that is like in America.
We reach Hagrid’s hut after an excruciating few minutes, and join the small group of students waiting for instruction. The other Gryffindors are revealed to be Ted Marsh, Fran Fletcher, Sean Hughes, and Holly Watts, the latter of which smiles at me and waves. Nice of her, considering she’s definitely a few rungs higher on the social ladder than I am. It’s not like I’m a complete loser—I do have friends, if only Mary and Marlene and sometimes Mary’s boyfriend Patrick. And I suppose I have to interact with Potter quite often now, who, despite being an idiot, is very popular around here. Holly and Sean are actually much closer to his social standing, but unfortunately he doesn’t go and talk to them.
While Hagrid launches into a spiel about the class, I’m mostly focused on Tommy’s presence to my left, and trying to avoid looking at him, or breathing too loud, or doing something weird with my hands. It doesn’t help that Potter is sandwiching me on the other side, making whatever embarrassment I inevitably suffer that much worse. I haven’t fancied someone in years, and I desperately don’t want to. I’ve forgotten the agony it causes.
Suddenly, everyone begins to speak, and I realise I’ve missed Hagrid’s entire introduction, as well as the prompt that everyone is now discussing. I’m about to turn to Potter to ask what I missed when Tommy turns to me.
“Do you wanna be partners?”
I look at him blankly. “Um... for what, exactly?”
“The project,” he says. Prah-ject .
“Sure,” I say, even though I have no idea what I’m agreeing to.
Potter, for his part, has finally disappeared, so I can’t even ask him what it is we’re supposed to be talking about. And I’m not sure I want to reveal to Tommy so early on that I can’t even pay attention for five minutes. I smile awkwardly at him.
“Cool,” he says. I’ve never heard anyone use that word in real life before, at least to mean what I think he means. “So should we just pick one from the book?”
I look around to see everyone else partnered up and opening their copies of From Diricawl to Doxy: An Advanced Study of Magical Creatures . Tommy is already getting his out. I quickly pull mine out of my bag.
“I wasn’t listening,” I finally confess sheepishly. “So, um, what exactly are we picking?”
“Oh,” he says. “It’s like a research project about a specific creature, so let’s just pick one from the index.”
“Alright,” I say. And then I go for it: “Cool.”