Disclaimer: Neither Pilot Candidate/Candidate for Goddess nor Harry Potter belongs to me. Pilot Candidate/Candidate for Goddess is the property of Yukiru Sasagiri, Wani Books, Bandai Visual Entertainment, and TCFG Committee. Harry Potter is the property of J. K. Rowling.

Curriculum Harry Potter

Chapter One

By Ronin S. Oath

The five candidates were all standing next to each other, equal widths apart, in a straight line along the narrow, solid white hallway.

The brunette glanced over his companion's faces, his hand scratching the back of his head out of habit. He released an agitated sigh as a thin shadow shifted its way into his sight.

"Ugh…" the blonde figure breathed tiredly as he fell in step with his fellow classmate. "Another day another pilot test…" he commented, not really facing the direction of anyone in particular.

"Yeah…" the other replied in the same manner, eyes now hooked on the tiled floor.

"So, Zero… do you think Instructor Azuma was impressed with today's results? I mean, we have become better right?" Clay questioned.

"Who knows what he's thinking," Zero retorted nonchalantly. "All he does is smirk, drop his toothpick to the floor, step on it and yell at you for making mistakes during the test."

"I guess you have a definite point," Clay said. "But our finals are coming up soon. It'll be the last test before we are branded full-fledged Goddess pilots. Assuming we pass it that is. It's not easy passing that test, I hear. How are we supposed to know how we stand if the only input we get is incomprehensible ranting from our instructor?"

"I don't care about that. All I want is to take the test, ace it and finally pilot that White Goddess," Zero answered, his voice rising. "It'll be so awesome!"

"But how do we pass if we don't remember to correct the mistakes we make? It's not like he ever tells us to fix them, he just tells them not the make them. There's something strange about Instructor Azuma's teaching methods. It's all very interesting…" Clay said quietly, becoming lost in thought. He closed off his sentence with a quick glance at Zero, used his middle finger to readjust his glasses on the bridge of his nose, and then once again looked out into the hallway.

"As if I could remember anything like that. The only thing I remember is getting Kizna's boot in my face every time I say something to her!" Zero complained, half expecting to receive pity from what was mostly his fault.

They didn't let candidates onto the real battle field. Who cares about how much easier battles would be if they let candidates with good experience behind the wheel in a real battle once in a while… Candidate's lives and battle-experience are irrelevant in lieu of the expenses it would take to fix a single red wire on a precious, out-dated robot. 'Honestly, what was the purpose of buying them if they weren't going to use them? They probably didn't realize how expensive it was really going to be until the purchase was complete, and when it crossed their minds they were idiots, they stored and locked them away in a big hangar to collect space dust while they recharged their funds and get filthy rich in order to buy cheap, Grade D food for the resident students to eat…'

And once you thought about it, the statement that a pilot and repairer should be as close as possible was almost ludicrous. They only thing different between the case of them being friends or enemies was simple: They either did their job for a friend or they did their job for an enemy. Either way they did their job, regardless of how they felt towards each other. The whole idea seemed so superficial… so pointless… just another thing that candidates had to memorize, to study and be quizzed over it, only to have it broken and rendered useless anyway… Like most of the other rules at G. O. A.

It didn't matter if the rule made sense or not… The fact was that it was a rule, so therefore it must be obeyed.

Only the ones who suck up to the teachers most got the honor of being a pilot, regardless of skill. Then, if for some odd reason you were to ask why, they'd tell you that the person conducted themselves better in real combat, even though numbers and common sense proved them wrong in every way.

Zero was nauseous with everything about G. O. A. At first, he wanted to be a pilot because it was his dream… Thanks to G. O. A. he was able to let go of those silly ideals and become a pilot because he wanted more freedom from this boorish and supervised lifestyle. But that's what all immature, illogical teenagers want, right? More freedom, more power… And that's all he was to these people… Just another silly teenager. 'They don't even stop to think that these silly teenagers will be saving there lives one day, risking everything constantly so they can have the luxury of being hypocritical. Whilst the young suffer and die for those who don't care, the old get fat, and those youths who are lucky enough to survive, the same ones who vow to make a difference, end up the same way!'

That's why Zero just wanted to leave… to be a pilot and be able to rocket into deep space where no one could bother him. No one could tell him what to do, or what he should do and when and how to do it. No one could stop him… He would just be free… He could just be Zero… Zero… Zero… Zero…

"Zero? Zero?" Clay called, waving his hand in front of the brunette's blank stare.

Zero's eyes focused and his head jerked, signaling that he had been awoken from his antagonizing and infuriating thoughts. "Huh?"

Hiead murmured an insult under his breath, and pushed himself from the wall, walking slowly down the hall to their (Zero, Clay and his own) room.

Zero stayed where he was for a moment, just watching as the platinum-haired boy walked away before taking off after him. "Hey! Don't walk away from me, Hiead!"

"Are you begging for pain, Enna?" Hiead questioned, stopping in his tracks to face the brunette.

"Try me, control freak."

Hiead growled, and took a swing at the boy. "Idiot."

Zero landed a left hook. "Psycho."

Hiead countered with a jab to the stomach. "Fool."

Zero kicked at the platinum-haired boy who ducked under the blow. "Gutter trash."

Hiead landed an elbow in Zero's ribs. "Defect."

Zero gasped, moving away from Hiead just the slightest bit. "Bastard."

Hiead landed a left cut. "Inbreed."

Zero countered with a kick to the side. "Nazi."

Hiead grabbed Zero by the collar, and then threw him back against the wall, his eyes flashing in rage. "Never say that word around me!"

Zero turned the tables, slamming Hiead against the pale wall, and pressing his body against the silver-haired teen's own.

Hiead hissed at the small amount of pain he felt when slammed against wall, his eyes shutting tightly… Then suddenly gasps as he feels the other's warmth against him, and the fervent breath by his ear.

'He's so still,' Zero thought to himself as he gazed upon Hiead. 'He seems so defenseless and vulnerable right now… And he's so beautiful when he's afraid… Am I the reason he's afraid right now?' "Hiead…"

The sound of people running in their direction reaches their ears.

Hiead slowly opens his crimson eyes, gazing into Zero's sapphire ones.

Zero leans forward slightly, pressing his lips gently against Hiead's, feeling him stiffen, and he moved his hands slowly up the wall, blocking any escape which Hiead may try to use. After a few seconds, Zero pulls back.

The two gaze at each other, their eyes displaying a multitude of emotions to which neither fully understands…

But before either of them could speak, a blinding light surrounded them. It was too brilliant to see anything clearly… And once the light faded, both boys were gone!

"Zero?" Yamagi and Clay called out, running into the hallway which the two had just disappeared from, without knowing a thing.

Roose met them after coming down the opposite side of hall. "F-find them?"

"No," Clay replied. "You?"

Roose shook his head. "They're not in any of the halls."

Clay used his middle finger to readjust his glasses on the bridge of his nose. "Interesting… Very interesting…"

To Be Continued…