18 October 2011 – 5:15 PM

Well, here's my sequel to The Hero and the Magician. I hope you all enjoy it.

Note: I've seen a sequel to the doujin that was very optimistic, short, and a bit dramatic. I don't think that an emotional, social, and psychological problem would be solved that quickly, so this sequel is of an undetermined length.

Time: Three years after the doujin takes place
Place: Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry (Of course)
Pairing: USUK/UKUS

The halls of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry was rather quiet, ignoring the meaningless gossip floating in the air. A rumour was on the lips of many of the students... about a fifth year student.

"Did you hear about him?"

"Who, the cute guy with those HUGE eyebrows?"

"There's the thing. His name is cursed."

"Really? No wonder everyone is staying away from him."

"-"

"-"

Arthur Kirkland, age 15, sat at an empty bench. Everyone made a big show of staying away from him.

After all, who would want to sit next to a cursed person?

He pulled out his "Ancient Runes" textbook and began to study. He didn't expect a Quaffle to hit his side.

Arthur cried out as he hit the ground, the Quaffle having knocked him over, as well as his study materials. He got up gathering his books, already accustomed to the small stares and glares and absolutely no movement to help him. Of course it would happen the first day that he decided to step out into the Quad.

Somehow, however... it felt different today.

"Hey, are you okay?" Arthur looked up.

A boy in standard 4th year robes Gryffindor house, same as Arthur's house, came over and began to gather Arthur's stray papers. The boy's sky blue eyes looked at Arthur.

"I wonder how a Quaffle got out of the Quidditch field."

Arthur couldn't hold his tongue. "It's called a 'parcel'." The boy looked at him, slightly puzzled.

"You speak British England?" Arthur looked up, making sure not to catch the younger student's eyes. He reached out for his papers, taking them.

"I speak proper English." He stood up, left the other on the ground and walked away.

What on Earth made him think that he could step out from the shadows as long as that boy was around.?

"You're welcome!"

Arthur practically ran to his room after he turned the corner.

Life's goal – Never meet that boy again.

Arthur, I love you.

Never again.

Alfred F. Jones, a fourth year student, sat with his friends at one of the tables in one of the small, enclosed clearings at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. They complained, for a time, that Ravenclaw had gotten the field for Quidditch.

"Heads up!" Alfred looked up and saw the Quaffle fly from the field. He stood, looking at the ball as it fell. It his a student on a bench in the hallway, behind the pillars that outlined the clearing.

Alfred stood up, ignoring his friends and rushing to help the other student. A hero never lets people get hurt like that!

He saw, as he walked, that the boy had pale skin, almost like milk. His hair was blond, like the centre of a flower. He was a Gryffindor, judging by his scarf. How come Alfred didn't know him?

"Hey, are you okay?" Alfred knelt down and gathered some of the shorter male's papers. The boy looked at him, making eye contact. Alfred almost stopped breathing.

Then other student's eyes were a bright green. They seemed so lively, lovely... They were hypnotizing, defiant. Alfred, his throat dry, tried to start a conversation.

"I wonder how a Quaffle got out of the Quidditch field."

Nice conversation starter, Alfred. Can you taste the awkward?

"It's called a 'parcel'." Wait, what?

"You speak British English?" That's cool, Alfred thought. He loved hearing so many accents at Hogwarts, since it was an international school. His parents wanted him to go to the one in Britain, not really liking the one in the United States, because it didn't seem to have many opportunities in magic, what with the United States being a country of mostly technology.

Alfred's mother had heard many good things about Britain in general. Alfred had yet to talk to a British student.

He held out the papers. Alfred saw that the student avoided his eyes. Why was he trying not to look at him?

The boy grabbed the papers, prompting Alfred to let go of them. He placed them between his books. "I speak speak proper English."

The green-eyed blond stood up, turned on his heel, and walked off into the building. The air felt tense.

Alfred stood up, hands on his hips. He didn't get a "thank you," but maybe the other needed to be somewhere.

Alfred cupped his hands around his mouth.

"You're welcome!" Alfred smiled as his friend walked over. "Hey, guys."

"Alfred," said Francis, a French student. "Who were you talking to?"

28 October 2011 - 8:16 PM

Am currently watching the first Harry Potter film with my family. I love Snape very much.