So, this is what happens when I binge-watch "Harry Potter" for the thousandth time in my life. Plus, I reread the books recently, so it really wasn't my fault that I did this. I'm still working on all my other stories, it's just this is YET ANOTHER one I'm writing simultaneously, because I have the attention of a two-year-old, and I often flick between stories.

I also have some pieces from their earlier years, but I haven't posted them yet because they're incomplete. I'll post those eventually under a new story, but still in this same universe.

Happy reviews, and you all get a chocolate frog.

The halls had become a nightmare of girls, whispering and giggling as they huddled together, shuffling from class to class. The Yule Ball was already proving to be a hellish experience, and it was still a month away.

Killian side-stepped a gaggle of Hufflepuff girls, swooning over Graham Hunter as he glided into the Potions classroom.

"Move," he said rudely, shoving past one. She threw him a glare, which he ignored. He climbed the steps out of the dungeon, still ducking around girls as they spoke to each other in hushed tones.

He was going to be late to Charms, as usual. Not like it really mattered: he could barely manage a Levitation Charm. But Flitwick would give him detention if he was more than ten minutes late, and he did not want to sacrifice Quidditch practice again.

"It's absolutely mental down there," a voice said behind him. Killian glanced over his shoulder as Victor Whale, a fellow Slytherin fifth-year, caught up to him, adjusting the strap of his overstuffed bag. "Can't even get into the bloody common room, it's so crowded."

"Get used to it. This is your life for the next month," Killian grumbled, turning sideways to walk between two groups. Victor followed him, tugging his bag impatiently through the crowd.

"You going with anyone?" he asked as they climbed the staircase. "I was thinking about asking Ruby Lucas—"

"Lucas?" Killian snorted.

"What?"

"Don't take this the wrong way, but—" he clapped Victor's shoulder—"I think she's a bit out of your league, mate."

"Oh, thanks."

"Besides," Killian shrugged, "I think Hunter's going to ask her. Heard him squealing over it with his idiot friends," he added, rolling his eyes.

"What about you?"

He raised an eyebrow. "Victor, I'm flattered, but I don't want to ruin our friendship."

"Oh, shut up," Victor said acidly. "You know what I mean."

His thoughts briefly turned to a certain Ravenclaw girl before he forced them away. "Nope. I think I'll just go stag."

"Might as well not go at all, mate."

"And miss the Weird Sisters? I don't think so."

That sparked an argument on the merits of the Weird Sisters, which lasted until they arrived at the Charms classroom. Flitwick gave him a disapproving look when he finally walked in, leaving Victor to scamper off to Arithmancy.

"Sorry, Professor," he said cheerfully. "I was practicing my Bubble-head Charm, and I lost track of the time."

"Take your seat, Jones." Flitwick tapped his wand against the desk. "Wands out! We're practicing our Color-Change Charms today, because I promise you, they will show up on your O.W.L.'s!"

Killian grimaced as Flitwick explained the object of the lesson: they would be attempting to change their partners' hair color. No one was going to want to work with him, he'd probably set them on fire. He blew out a breath, sizing up his classmates for the bravest ones.

He caught Emma Nolan's eye. "What do you say, Nolan? Want to turn my hair purple?"

"And get blown up? No, thank you."

"Yeah, but my aim's rubbish. You'll probably safer if I'm aiming for you."

Emma rolled her eyes, turning away from him. Damn it. He twirled the wand between his fingers, making sparks shoot out. Sweeping his gaze around the room, he saw Belle French and Neal Cassidy immediately pair themselves up, already snickering. He felt a pang of jealousy, which he instantly squashed down.

"Come on, Nolan," he said, turning back. "I thought Gryffindors were brave."

"Yes, brave, not stupid."

"Well, pretty much everyone's paired off, anyway," he pointed out.

Emma scanned the room, biting her lip. "Fine," she said reluctantly, getting up. "But if you send us to the hospital wing, I'll—"

"Do something horrible, involving my vital organs, I'm sure. Come on."

After going over the incantation and the wand movement a few times, they faced each other, Emma looking somewhat apprehensive.

"All right," she said, pointing her wand at him. "What color do you want?"

"Surprise me."

Emma frowned, concentrating on her wand movement. "Colovario!"

He felt tingling sensation above his eye, and instinctively reached for it. "What happened?"

"I turned your eyebrow green" she said, looking frustrated as she lowered her wand.

He dropped his hand. "All right, my turn." He pointed his wand at her.

"Don't disfigure me," she said, closing her eyes.

"Can't promise anything, Nolan." Killian took a deep breath, and tried to mimic her wand movement. "Colovario!"

Emma yelped as sparks exploded in her hair. Flitwick immediately waved his wand to put them out, then turned to give Killian a stern look.

"I wonder how wise it is to have rival Seekers paired with each other," he said suspiciously.

"I didn't do it on purpose," he said defensively.

Flitwick studied him for a moment. "Come see me after class."

Emma waited until Flitwick had drifted over to another pair, then turned around, smirking. "He's going to make you take Remedial Charms."

"Careful, Nolan," he said, raising his wand threateningly. "I'm not getting any better at this."

"No," she said instantly, backing up. "Don't you dare. I don't want my eyebrows burned off before the Yule Ball."

He raised his eyebrows. "Are you going with anyone?"

Emma narrowed her eyes. "You're not asking me to go with you, are you?"

Killian snorted. "I'd rather bathe in Bobotuber pus."

She chose not to answer him and instead, pointed her wand at him. "Hold still," she ordered. "You may not care, but I don't want to fail my O.W.L."

"Make my other eyebrow red. I'm in a festive mood."

"Colovario!"

The spell rustled his hair, and a bright orange strand fell in his face. He frowned, pulling at it. Emma smiled triumphantly.

"Don't look so proud of yourself, I said red, not orange," he said, refusing to be impressed.

"You want highlights?" she asked smugly, twirling her wand.

By the time class had ended, his hair had gone from orange to purple to green, then back to purple. He had gotten his revenge by singeing her robes and setting fire to the tips of her hair a few more times. Flitwick put out the little flames for the fourth time, and called out, "All right, everyone! That's enough for today! Don't worry, the charms should wear off in a few minutes. Your homework is to practice, because on Monday, I want to have a graded evaluation!"

The class groaned as they shuffled to their desks, stuffing their wands in their bags. Killian went a little slower, so no one would see him hang back to talk to Flitwick. Purposefully, he knocked his notes off the desk, scattering them on the floor. He dropped to his knees, effectively hiding himself from sight.

"Hey, Em," he heard Neal say.

"Hey, Neal, how's—? Oh, my God!" Emma broke off into a fit of laughter. "Look at your hair!"

Killian poked his head up to see Neal's vividly colored hair: yellow at the roots, turning green in the middle, and the end of the curls ending in electric blue.

"Yeah, Belle's pretty gifted at spells that humiliate me," he smiled, tugging at it. "You remember that week we learned Tarantallegra? I was dancing the samba the rest of the night. She wouldn't tell me the counter-curse until I embarrassed myself in front of McGonagall."

Killian fought a smile, turning back to his fallen notes.

"Hey, you're good at Potions, right?" Neal asked suddenly.

"Yeah, I'm all right."

"Okay, great." There was a small thud! as Neal dropped his bag on the desk, and then the sound of paper rustling as he pulled out a sheaf. "I've got a few questions about Snape's essay, then—if you don't mind."

"Go ahead, I don't mind. I've only got Divination after this."

Killian gathered his notes more quietly, hoping for hints that could help him finish his own essay. Calming Draughts were, ironically, one of the more stressful potions they'd studied.

"Okay, so…what is the most active ingredient in Calming Draughts, do you want to come with me to the Yule Ball, and at what concentration does it start to have adverse effects?"

Killian frowned, popping his head up again. Emma was staring at Neal, her mouth slightly open.

"What?"

"At what concentration does it start—?"

"Neal!" she exclaimed, but smiling widely nonetheless.

Damn, that was good, Killian thought, grudgingly admiring Neal's technique. Brilliant, actually.

"So?" Neal raised his eyebrows, smiling slightly.

Emma looked as though she was trying to contain her smile. "Yeah, all right," she said, somewhat shyly.

Killian raised an eyebrow: this was a completely unfamiliar Emma Nolan, this blushing, smiling shy girl. It was unnerving, seeing her like this, and he dearly hoped to never see her like this again.

"Good," Neal said, looking relieved. He bumped his fist listlessly against his leg as they edged toward the door. "So, you've got, uh…?"

"Divination."

"Divination, right. I guess I better let you get to class before Trelawney predicts another agonizing death for you, so… see you later."

"Yeah, see you."

Killian waited until they had left before standing up, his thoroughly gathered notes in hand. Neal Cassidy and Emma Nolan? How long had that been going on?

"You took an awfully long time finding your papers back there," Flitwick said, peering at him over his spectacles. Killian jumped, nearly upsetting his papers again.

"Sorry, sir," he said, stuffing them in his bag and throwing the strap over his shoulder. He walked through the row of desks, stopping in front of Flitwick's. "So… you wanted to see me?"

Flitwick sighed, rubbing his eyes. "Take a seat, Jones," he said, gesturing to one of the front row desks.

Warily, he sat, setting his bag on the ground. "Sir?"

"I'm concerned about your progress in Charms—or rather, lack thereof." Flitwick took off his spectacles to wipe them. "Do you have any thoughts on what you'd like to do after you leave Hogwarts?"

"Uh…" Killian blinked, taken aback by the question. "Not…not really."

Flitwick nodded thoughtfully. "Hmm…well, the fact is, Jones, most professions require at least an 'A' on your Charms O.W.L. Everyone needs basic Charms, and you're failing. In fact, I'm almost impressed by how much you're failing." He smiled briefly, then grew serious again. "You don't have to continue Charms after fifth year, but you do need to pass it. Do you understand?"

Killian swallowed. "Yes, sir."

"All right, then." Flitwick pulled out a scroll and frowned down at it. "Off you go."

He stood up hesitantly, a question forming on his tongue. "Sir?"

"Hmm?"

"Er…" He closed his eyes, and blurted before he lost his nerve, "Would I need an 'A' if I wanted to play Quidditch?"

Flitwick raised his eyebrows. "No… but don't count your owls before they've 're a very good Quidditch player, Jones, but it is a highly selective field. It would be wise to have something to fall back on."

"Right, 'course," he said hastily. "I was just…I was just wondering."

Flitwick nodded. "Go on, then," he said, waving him out the door.


"So," Victor said, spearing a potato with his fork, "did you ask anyone yet?"

Killian swirled his spoon around the orange blob that had once been turnips. "I already told you, I'm going alone."

"You should ask Regina," Victor said in a hushed tone, apparently not hearing him. He elbowed him. "Go on, she's right there, ask her!"

"I don't want to ask Regina."

"She's one of the best-looking girls in our year, and you don't want to ask her?" Victor said incredulously.

"You ask her, then."

"Regina? Pfft, she's way out of my league," he snorted. "But you? You've got the whole Quidditch- star-thing going for you, she'll go with you."

"I don't want to ask her," Killian repeated exasperatedly.

"Come off it."

"I don't."

"Yes, you do."

"Fine!" He leaned across the table, and tapped the spot in front of Regina. She looked at his fingers disdainfully, then slowly raised her eyes.

"What do you want, Jones?"

"Victor wants me to ask you to the Yule Ball. Interested?"

"Not even a little bit."

"Good." He sat back, turning to Victor with raised eyebrows. "Satisfied?"

Victor shook his head, as if he were struggling to understand. "There isn't a single girl in the entire school you'd want to ask?" He swept his arm out, gesturing to the rest of the Great Hall. "Out of all of them? Not a single one?"

Involuntarily, his eyes flicked to the Ravenclaw table. "No."

Victor frowned, raising a finger. "Wait, what was that?"

"What? Nothing," he said, shifting his gaze back to his mutilated turnips.

"No, no, no," Victor pressed. "No, you did this jerky-thing with your eyes."

"No, I didn't."

"Yes, you did," he insisted. "But you looked over there…" He pointed to the right. "So…that means it's not a Slytherin girl." Victor turned around, sitting backwards on the bench, resting his elbows on the table behind him. "So! What are we looking at here?"

"Oh, don't," Killian groaned, dropping his head in his hands.

"No, it's fun!" Victor said excitedly, sweeping his gaze across the Great Hall. "So, what is she, Gryffindor?" He turned to see Killian's face, and raised his eyebrows. "Gryffindor?"

Killian rolled his eyes. Victor nodded affirmatively.

"That means no. Hufflepuff?"

"Victor…"

"Okay, that could be yes or no, not sure. Ravenclaw?"

Killian made an exasperated noise, tossing his spoon down. Victor's smile widened, pointing at him.

"She's a Ravenclaw, isn't she? I knew it. Okay, so who would—?"

"Hey, there's Lucas," Killian said suddenly, pointing as the dark-haired Gryffindor girl stood up from the table to talk to someone at Hufflepuff. He punched Victor in the arm, a little too forcefully to be entirely friendly. "Go on, ask her."

Victor grimaced, rubbing his arm. "You're avoiding the conversation."

"Do you want someone else to ask her before you do?"

Victor looked at Ruby longingly as she laughed, flipping a strand of long hair over her shoulder. "No," he said reluctantly.

"Then, come on, get up," Killian said, standing up and tugging his arm. "I'll go with you, come on."

Victor bit his lip, watching Ruby. "Okay," he said, taking a deep breath. He allowed Killian to pull him up. "Let's go."

They walked over, Victor dragging his feet more and more the closer they got. "I can't do this," he whispered as they reached the Hufflepuff table.

"Just go." Killian pushed him forward, almost sending him tripping. Ruby looked up, raising her eyebrows as Victor stumbled toward her.

"You okay?" she asked, warily eyeing him. Victor straightened up, smoothing his robes.

"Yeah, fine. Completely fine. Really very…uh…fine, I guess." He turned around, mouthing to Killian, What am I saying?

Ask her, he mouthed back, waving his hands. Victor turned back to Ruby.

"So…I was kind of wondering, uh… has—has anyone asked you to the Yule Ball yet?"

Ruby's face took on a pitying expression, and she smiled gently. Killian sucked in his breath, squeezing his eyes shut. Oh, this is going to hurt.

"Not exactly," she said apologetically. "But…"

"I see," Victor said quickly. "It's fine."

"I'm really sorry," she said as he backed up.

"No, really, it's fi—Hey!" Victor exclaimed as Killian caught the back of his robes and dragged him back.

"I thought no one asked you," he frowned, walking Victor back to Ruby. She narrowed her eyes at him.

"This has nothing to do with you, Jones," she said coldly.

"Let me guess," he said loudly, causing everyone within earshot to turn their heads. "You're waiting for someone specific to ask you."

Ruby looked furious. "Shh!" she hissed.

"Who could it be?" he said, raising his voice so more heads turned. "Who would RUBY LUCAS want to ask her to the Yule Ball?"

"Killian, stop," Victor muttered out of the corner of his mouth. Killian ignored him, not looking away from Ruby's simultaneously terrified and enraged face.

"COULD IT BE GRAHAM HUNTER?" he said, his voice echoing through the whole Great Hall. He could see Hunter out of the corner of his eye look over angrily and push himself up.

Victor squirmed away, disappearing back to the Slytherin table. Killian dropped his hand, smiling icily as a furious Hunter strode up to him.

"Leave her alone," Hunter ordered, jabbing a finger at him.

"Or?" He quirked an eyebrow. "You going to hit me? Wouldn't that put a black on your record? You'll never make Head Boy like that."

Hunter gave him a disgusted look. "Just go pick a fight with some mountain trolls, do us all a favor." He turned back around and walked over to a white-faced Ruby, speaking gently as he walked her back to her table. Killian watched them go with a bored expression fixed on his face.

Slowly, he turned around and started sauntering back to the Slytherin table. The crowd, losing interest as the scene ended, returned to their conversations and the sounds of voices and clattering forks resumed. As he passed by the Ravenclaw table, he caught a pair of familiar blue eyes scowling at him. A small pang of regret hit him, which he shrugged off immediately. I don't care, he told himself firmly. I don't care.