a charmed life
Waking up in a blur of red and gold, Meliodas decided, was something he'd never get used to. The scarlet canopy of the four-poster bed rustled slightly as a chill wind from the open window—what idiot was opening windows this early in the morning? It was too cold—blew into the dorm room. "Ban?" he called out under his breath, mindful of the two other boys who looked to be fast asleep still.
No answer. Probably already down eating breakfast, he thought, and was surprised at the rush of affection it brought. Jeez, one day and I'm already this attached to him—to both of them. He grinned at the thought of blue eyes and silver hair. Now I just have to avoid messing up.
And my chances of that are not good. A grimace crossed his face as he blinked out the window. Being in a tower was pretty cool; the view was amazing (he'd never seen such a wild, strangely beautiful place). He pulled the covers away, reaching for the small dresser where he kept his clothes—
And let out a cry of shock as he was suddenly lifted off his feet by a pair of broad arms. "Mooooooooornin'~" Ban crowed, shaking him lightly as though he were a rag doll. Meliodas couldn't help laughing at his friend, despite being slightly irritated.
"You're the one who left that damn window open, didn't you? And you're a morning person, too. Ugh, I never would've sat with you if I'd known."
"Aw, I'm hurt," he laughed, dropping Meliodas onto the bed again; he let out an "oof" as he landed. "Excuse me for making sure that my friend doesn't miss his first day of classes."
He blinked dully, struggling to register the words. "Classes?" Hogwarts...school. Right. Not just an adventure, but an actual school.
"Yeah, classes. We've got Transfiguration with Ravenclaw in..." Ban made a huge show of looking at his evidently watch-less wrist, grinning. "Mind telling me, Bronwyn?" The little white fox opened one pale blue eye, before yawning and snapping her small jaw shut. Ban, of course, nodded as if this made perfect sense. "Right, twenty minutes. And we still have to have breakfast. I think Elizabeth's down in the common room, so hurry up!"
"Twenty—" He lashed out and smacked Ban's arm indignantly, pulling his sweater over his head with only minor difficulty (he still had yet to shake off the heavy fog of drowsiness). "And you didn't wake me up earlier?"
"I tried," his friend huffed. "You muttered something about biting my ankles off before you rolled back over."
"I did not!" Did I? He slung his robes over his shoulders, struggling to find the arms as he shoved his feet into his shoes, stumbling in the direction of the door. Ban, shaking his head as he went, followed behind him with a snort of laughter that Meliodas more sensed than heard, and he shot him a look of annoyance. Come on, really, laughing when I'm late? he thought crossly, hurrying down the stairs and towards the portrait hole. It's not my fault you're scared of a blond midget—
"Think fast, Leviathan!"
He let out a yelp of surprise a a piece of toast was chucked at his face, managing to somehow duck and snatch it out of the air. His brothers had always been a little freaked out by his reflexes (ones, Zeldris had said—he realized with a pang of guilt that he hadn't written to his brother as he'd promised, but everything had been so exciting—that would make a cat jealous), which kicked in at the weirdest moments, normally when he was shocked or focused, when his mind was zeroed in on one thing. When he wasn't, though, he walked into walls and tripped on things that weren't there all the time. It drove his brothers half-mad, and he had a feeling that his friends would soon feel the same way.
Still, he took a bite of the toast and grinned. Marmalade, he realized with a flicker of pleased surprise. The person (he had a strong suspicion of who the culprit was) had actually bothered to get him breakfast so that they might make it across the castle in time to not get detention on their first day.
One day. One day and we're already this close. How much closer will we get as the year ends? It seemed what his father said was true—the bonds you formed on the Hogwarts Express were always the strongest. "Fanksh," he called to the girl waiting by the edge of the portrait hole, swallowing the bite of toast hastily and repeating himself more clearly. "Thanks."
She arched her eyebrows at him, lips quirking into a smile. "Next time you're getting it yourself."
He grinned back at Elizabeth, trotting past her as he pushed the portrait hole open (the Fat Lady's snores were abruptly cut off as the doorway was revealed. "Fair. After you?"
"After me," Ban cut in, breezing after him and jumping out of the opening. Elizabeth aimed a quill at his back, before laughing and skipping after him. Meliodas grinned, taking a moment to make sure he knew the passport—Beowulf—before hopping out of the portrait hole. He called out a greeting to the Fat Lady as they left, causing the woman in the painting to snort and wave him off with a tired huff. That's sort of rude.
"Which way is Transfiguration again?" he asked, speeding up in order to catch up with the others. "And who's the professor for it, anyway?" While he knew a bit about Hogwarts, his father's teacher had been Professor Minerva McGonagall, who'd mysteriously vanished years ago (to hide the fact that even Death was terrified of her, Rexicus had said, laughing) and he didn't have any older siblings who could give him information. Will my brothers even listen to me anymore? he wondered suddenly, and felt ill at the prospect.
"Professor Hendrickson, I think," Elizabeth called, and he took a moment (a very brief moment, waiting impatiently for the moving staircases to connect to their small landing) to marvel at the fact that a Muggle-born witch knew more about Hogwarts than he, a pureblood, did. As soon as the staircase thudded into place, he started down them, glancing back up at Elizabeth and Ban as they followed. "And Margaret said it's in the North Tower, wherever that is."
"So we don't even know where we're going? Fantastic."
She stuck her tongue out at him. "I'm sure one of the ghosts will know! Or an upperclassman, maybe?"
"All the upperclassmen are either sleeping or in class," Ban pointed out.
She shrugged, acting as though that wasn't remotely an issue (even though Meliodas found it a sort-of big one, because he was already making them late and they didn't need to be lost on top of it). "Then we find a ghost."
As if her words were a Summoning Charm, a ghost—Nearly Headless Nick, he thought in awe (the ghost was notorious in all Houses)—drifted through the wall and across the stairs. Elizabeth flashed them a triumphant look. "See? A ghost."
Meliodas stuck his tongue out at her, well aware of how immature the motion was, and trotted up to the infamous Nick. He'd seen some older students sitting with him the previous night (it had only been one night, holy crap) and had been curious, but Hogwarts and the Sorting had been so overwhelming that he'd just focused on eating and chatting with his new friends. My best friends. "Um, sir? Nick?"
"Nicholas de Mimsey Porpington," the ghost corrected, not unkindly (but rather condescendingly, he noticed with annoyance. He was eleven, not five). He privately thought that the name "Nearly Headless Nick" was an awful lot more interesting than "Nicholas de Mimsey Whateverton", but he kept his mouth shut. "You're the new Gryffindors, aren't you?" Nick clapped his hands delighted, and Meliodas jumped in surprise at the lack of sound. Makes sense, I guess. He's dead. "What ghostly services do you require of me, lad?"
"We're late for Transfiguration and--"
Nick held up a hand. "Say no more. You're looking for Classroom 1B, first floor, accessible through the Middle Courtyard." The ghost tilted his head and Meliodas yelped as it swung almost all the way off his neck, hitting his shoulder (Elizabeth cheered and Ban whistled appreciatively). "I believe that Peeves is down by the main staircase, so I suggest you take the side stairs to the left." He pointed over his shoulder, towards a winding set of spiral stairs hidden in an alcove. "Unless, of course, you want to get pelted with balloons filled with questionable contents before going to Professor Hendricksen."
"Which I, personally, don't," Elizabeth cut in, already trotting past them. "Thanks, Nick!"
"It's Nicholas de Mimsey--"
Meliodas laughed and darted after her, Ban whooping as he barreled past them both and hopped onto the railing.
They made it in the nick of time. Ban was the first to burst into the classroom, Meliodas letting out a yelp as his friend stopped abruptly, his momentum causing him to smash right into his back. They landed in a pile on the floor, Elizabeth stepping daintily over them with a mischievous grin. Help, he thought, reaching for her as he tried to escape the mess of robes and limbs; she only rolled her eyes at him and turned to Hendricksen, who raised an eyebrow. "Sorry we're late, Professor. Overslept."
And he had to gape at her, because charm was suddenly radiating off of her, like a veela or a siren trying to lure their prey. He managed to disentangle himself, standing next to her and glancing nervously at their professor. He certainly didn't look like one to take anyone's crap, much less a few less-than-sane first-years. He stiffened as green-blue eyes cut into them, staring as a small snort escaped Hendricksen's lips. "See that it doesn't happen again, Miss Liones. You three may have a seat next to Mr. Fey and Mr. Adharc."
"Mr. Fey and Mr. Adharc" turned out to be the boy who could fly and the person with bright pink hair. Both were wearing Ravenclaw colors, and the pink-haired one was beaming brightly, glasses sitting crookedly on his nose. He immediately reached over the other Ravenclaw (who looked incredibly indignant) and shook Meliodas's hand as he moved to sit down at the table. "Hi! I'm Gowther; this is Harlequin–"
"Don't call me that," apparently-not-Harlequin shuddered, closing his bronze eyes in disgust. "It's King, please."
"–who prefers to be known by his middle name, King," Gowther finished.
King rolled his eyes. "So would you if your fool of a father named you Harlequin. Ugh."
Ban snorted, earning a glare from King. Meliodas elbowed him, earning an indignant look. "What? It suits his stick arms!" King glared at that, and the blond shook his head in...well, amusement (okay so it had been a little bit funny, whatever), but also exasperation. He had the strangest feeling that this would turn out to be a theme.
"Ouch!" he hissed a second later as a foot that, judging from its relative delicacy (and surprising strength, ow ow ow), was probably Elizabeth's collided with his shin. He shot her an injured look and she winced apologetically, before setting her sights on Ban, who was probably her target in the first place. Ha, he thought vindictively as his taller friend yelped in surprise, before glancing over at the two others at their table as Professor Hendricksen's voice started to ring over the classroom.
King was by far the smallest person he'd ever met, himself and his youngest brother (he really needed to get on that letter as soon as classes ended) excluded. While it was clear that Zeldris would probably be about his height, King was at least half an inch taller, though the fact that he could fly (seriously, what was that about?) made him seem like even taller. But he didn't mean small just in terms of height; King was fine-boned like Elizabeth, with delicate fingers and a certain alien familiarity to the shape of his face that made something pound at the back of Meliodas's consciousness. He wasn't small--short, yes, small, no. His build certainly wasn't delicate, his fingers were covered in callouses with dirt caked under wide fingernails, and his face made him look like he was seven. Not only that, but his (potential new friend?) group-mate had short brown hair and glittering amber eyes that were kind of sharp, like the edge of a sword or shards of glass.
Gowther, on the other hand, was tall--and pretty. He wasn't sure whether he'd like being called that (and if his constant cheeriness was anything to go off of, he actually might), but it was true; he looked sort of like those porcelain dolls rich Muggles always had in movies, with bright eyes and flushed cheeks and lips curved in a curious Mona Lisa smile. Except the Mona Lisa smile was imperfect and so was the doll, because instead of having a blank, sweet smile, Gowther was grinning from ear to ear and twirling the matchstick they were supposed to be Transfiguring to a needle around. Meliodas kind of liked that better--the dolls in movies were always cursed psychopaths or something anyways.
"Isn't this exciting?" Gowther chirped, interrupting his train of thought and tapping his wand against the matchstick. Nothing changed, but he kept chattering undeterred. "I'm so excited; this is the first time we actually get to do proper magic with wands and ooh, do you think it went a little bit pointy there? I think it might've but I'm not sure–"
"He's been like this all day." King buried his face in his arms with a muffled groan, flicking the matchstick across the table. Ban scooped it up and spun it between his fingers with a smirk before prodding at it with his own wand. "Woke me up at five in the morning because Professor Lupin was taking some unicorns across the grounds for some fifth-years to practice with, and then decided to practice disguises for an hour before waking me up for real by opening the windows. Like, not even just the curtains. The whole window. Opened. In September."
"It was getting stuffy in there!" Gowther protested, before muttering the incantation again. The matchstick glinted a bit, but didn't change any further.
"It was not remotely stuffy, you daft--"
"Wait," Elizabeth interrupted, apparently latching on to one part in the conversation. "What do you mean by disguises?"
Gowther shrugged, but his eyes lit up--and then changed to brilliant green. Meliodas yelped in surprise as gold shifted to a shade of emerald similar to his own, but a grin crossed his face. Wait, so he's--oh, wow, that's so cool! He watched eagerly as Gowther turned his hair bronze and blue, the colors of Ravenclaw House, shifting fluidly between the two colors before settling on pink again. "I'm a Metamorphmagus. I can change my appearance at will." He winked, striking a funny little pose (and wow, that made his head hurt for some reason, as if it was a memory that he'd somehow lost). "Cool, right?"
"Not when you're doing it at five in the fucking morning," King snarked, before glancing around. "Who took my matchstick?"
Meliodas elbowed Ban again, hiding a grin as his friend rolled his eyes. "Yeah, Ban, I wonder who?"
Ban blinked innocently, elbowing him back (Meliodas coughed a laugh, even as he winced from the blow). "That's what I was wondering, man. I think Elizabeth might've taken it."
"I--what? Hey, that's mean!" She swatted him across the shoulders and Meliodas ducked his head, shoulders shaking as he tried to hold in his laughter.
All in all, this first day was going quite well so far.
Dear Zeldris,
See? Kept my promise! An owl sent during the first week of class--not bad, huh? Hogwarts is amazing, by the way; you'd love it. Especially Herbology. Professor Niniane is quite...eccentric, but I think you two would get along. Or that she'd get along with you and you'd just be extremely irritated, either one. I overslept and was almost late to Transfiguration--shut up, Estarossa, I can hear you laughing from here--but it turned out all right. I even met a Metamorphmagus! He's even weirder than Professor Niniane, but he's funny and kind. Scares the crap out of me when he decides to walk around disguised as one of the others, though. How are his disguises even that accurate?
Oh, I put in a picture of me and my friends. The girl on my right is Elizabeth, next to her is King, Gowther is on my immediate left, and Ban's the oaf on the far left. They should be waving, but I think Ban might've been making a face. Sorry about that. Um, and we're all wearing our House colors in it, too. I was Sorted into Gryffindor. Maybe don't tell Father yet? I...don't know how he's going to react. He hates Gryffindors, and I know this is kind of stupid, but I don't want him to hate me or my friends. They're all nice--well, they can be rude sometimes, but we mess with each other a lot. It's that sort of thing. But they're all good people, and I don't want him to send a Howler or something.
Speaking of new friends, we have Defense Against the Dark Arts with the Hufflepuffs, and Elizabeth's already making friends with them. Don't ask me how; it's like she magically attracts everybody to her. But Diane and Elaine--she's King's twin sister, apparently--seem pretty nice. I've actually talked to them quite a bit, and we've agreed to meet up during Quidditch tryouts, all seven of us. I'm thinking of trying out for the Gryffindor House team now that first years are allowed--d'you think I'd make a good Seeker? I brought my broomstick, but I'm not sure. I think I'll give it a shot anyways. Hope you're cheering for me back home!
Love you (and no, this isn't sappy, this is a perfectly okay thing to say to family. Shut up, 'rossa),
Meliodas