A/N: I've had a lot of inspiration to write an Attack on Titan Hogwarts AU. (check out super-sandri on tumblr for some great Hogwart AU fics and headcanons) The title is from Jean's OVA episode, because it sort of fits and I couldn't think of anything. _ Anyway, this is just a thing I want to work on. I don't know how far I'll take it, or even what I'm going to do except that I want to jump around from lots of characters. The main ships in here will be: Jeankasa, Marcomina, Rivetra, Srpingles, Yumikuri, and probably ArminxAnnie. So that's a heads up, in case you like or don't like. Also, those are the ships I ultimately want to achieve, but I might explore exs and break-ups before getting there. I plan to play around with canon elements of the characters (like family life and such) and adjust them to fit this world, while still keeping them in-character. (though some things might change.) This is just a journey through the 104th's sixth year at Hogwarts. Probably lots of relationship drama. Teenage drama. Maybe some serious plot later on. Modern times, but I'm not going to be bringing HP related plot into it. The muggle-born prejudice still exists. As long as I'm inspired I'll write stuff down. (Also, the focus will be on Jean mostly, more than others at least. Because I can.)

Chapter One
How was your Summer?

The train would be leaving in ten minutes. Ideally, he would already be on it, settled and in his preferred cabin—the one in the second to last car with the window that slid up and down without any force—with his bags stowed away. He turned his head side to side, with the force of his mother's grip on his chin, and his scowl was unmasked but also unnoticed.

"Ma, I'm good. I told you." He pulled on her wrist but she was already moving to her next concern, turning him in place so that the platform spun and then stopped in a tilting whirl of color.

"This jacket is so ratty, what are they going to think about humans if I send you to school in rags? Hm? They'll think I don't provide for you. You've already gotten so skinny. Growing right out of your baby f—"

"Mom." Jean held out his hands and glanced around to see if she had drawn attention. He continued in a softer tone. "No one is going to care what my jacket looks like. Okay? I won't even be wearing it once I get there. And how many times do I have to tell you that we are not a different species. You can't say 'human' like that, it's kind of offensive."

Ms. Kirstein shooed his words away. "You know what I mean."

He sighed. Maybe two years ago he would have brushed off her worry and slipped from her inspecting hands to board the train early. He couldn't do that now. Not when he felt so guilty for leaving at all.

"Mom, you know I'll write—"

"Can they really not get telephones? I would love to hear your voice every now and then."

Jean put his hands on his hips. "No, they don't use telephones. That kind of technology doesn't work there." His cellphone was in his trunk, where he couldn't see it to miss it. It would take a few weeks before he stopped reaching for it and the phantom presence of the device faded from his right front pocket.

He took in a deep breath. "You'll be okay while I'm gone." It was more a question than an assurance. He honestly didn't know what she did while he was gone. All her letters were about him. Was he eating? Were his classes too hard? Did he make any new friends? Did he get enough sleep? Did he have clean underwear? She ignored every question he asked in his return letters. Even if he insisted, swore, or practically yelled using all capital letters and too much ink, she would still only scribe the most generic of assurances. 'I'm doing well.' 'Of course, I'm alright, everything is fine here.' It pissed him off how selfless she could be about these things.

"Of course I'll be fine. Don't worry about your mother, it isn't natural." She said and he ground his teeth together.

"Just promise me you'll tell me if you're having a hard time." She opened her mouth and he pushed forward, talking over her. "I know you can take care of yourself, that's not what I mean." He met her eyes and the shine of choked back tears made him stop. She didn't like to talk about it. "Look, all I ask is a bit of info so I don't stress out. You don't want my grades slipping because I'm worrying about my stubborn mother."

She smiled, the shimmer of her tears fading, though he suspected they weren't gone. The whistle blew and she swore.

"Mom." His mouth fell open.

"Oh, don't pretend you don't use curses the moment you leave my sight." She wasn't wrong. "Come here. It's too soon. I'm going to miss you. I love you."

She captured him before he could move and squeezed the breath from his lungs before loosening her grip. He didn't bother to check if anyone was watching. "Love you too. I'll be home for the holidays."

The tears started falling, but she cried every time he left, no exceptions in six years. Jean picked up his suitcase so the wheels could roll along the ground and threw the strap to his guitar case over his shoulder. He stopped at the door and waved. He had to force himself to turn away. She was standing alone, behind the other groups of parents and younger siblings. She looked so out of place, without robes or a wand in her pocket, but she refused to act out of place.

Shit. He was supposed to be excited for school, not anxious and upset to leave his fully-capable adult mother alone for a few months. As he marched down the narrow corridor, his guitar case catching on every damn open door or window, he settled every ounce of his blame on the person responsible.

~-0-~

"Don't stare." Mikasa tugged Eren's ear.

"Don't mother me." He snapped, flickering her hand away sharply. He did, however, stop staring at Jean and his mother with a growing smirk.

"Guys, don't start already." Armin groaned. His grandfather was chatting with their mother a few steps away. The three of them were standing around their pile of luggage, ready to board the train. Three large trunks, metal bolted hinges and brass handles, along with cages for Armin's rat, Eureka, and Eren's owl, Snowy. Three guesses on what color the owl was.

Eren crossed his arms and turned his attention to his mother. "We're going to board now. We want good seats."

Carla, sighed and turned sharp eyes on her son.

For all his bluster, he shrunk down a fraction. "Sorry, I mean, excuse me, but can we please board the train now?" He spoke between his teeth, narrowing his eyes at Armin's muffled chuckle.

The goodbyes were quick and the trio picked up their trunks and started for the train. Mikasa lingered behind, glancing at her rival captain. She had told Eren not to stare, but seeing his mother on the verge of tears made her pause. They weren't 'I'll miss you' tears either. Jean seemed to pause, reconsidering his words before continuing. Mikasa averted her eyes and boarded the train quickly.

Eren and Armin were already in the second to last car, picking out the compartment with the easy to use windows. All the others were beginning to stick and the older students that knew about it usually fought for the spot. Mikasa stowed her trunk and sat beside Eren. He was already talking with Armin over a Quidditch magazine, though Armin was merely nodding along.

"Hurry up."

"I am."

Mikasa heard the voices close to her spot near the door and craned her head to see. Sasha stopped first and Connie ran into her, both of them tumbling to the floor.

The corridor was too narrow, their twisting and grasping for hand holds did them no good. They were a tangle of limbs and the occasional giggle when someone's elbow hit the right spot. Mikasa got up to offer help, but the whistle blew again right as she tried to speak and then the train jolted as it prepared to move. She had to brace herself on the wall to keep from toppling into their pile.

"Get your hand out of there." Sasha cried. Her face was visible, but Connie's was buried in her hair with hands clasped by her legs so he couldn't reach to fix it.

"I don't even know where my hand is." He said between spitting pieces of her hair from his mouth.

Their position presented a roadblock when Jean wheeled his suitcase up behind them. She tensed, and all her thought during the summer suddenly felt as if they would spill into the open for everyone to know. Which, she wasn't ready for. Not at all. Mikasa ignored the way he filled out the worn leather jacket, the lopsided angle of his shirt over his belt, the way his pants bunched around his sneakers, she ignored him so hard. Jean looked down at the mess, then at Mikasa standing on the other side.

"Do I even want to ask?"

"Jean!" Sasha cried out in relief. "Oh thank Merlin, can you reach my hand?" He tried to pinpoint what was Sasha and what was Connie, until he saw a hand waving frantically from beneath Connie's shoulder. Connie was definitely the one in the jade green skinny jeans and Jean wanted to avoid touching him in any capacity from that angle.

"Yeah." He set down his things and balanced his footing. "Stop wiggling, I fucking see it." He had to lean most of his body over them and then the train pulled forward.

"Shit."

Mikasa covered her lips with her hand, hiding amusement. In an instant, the amiable tangle of two friends escalated into a fury. She couldn't tell who was swearing louder or who was more annoyed, though Jean's voice was more easily distinguished since he was on top.

"Everyone stop moving." Mikasa said, but no one heard her. She shook her head before grasping Jean's collar and yanking. His foot caught Connie's leg and dragged him too, but Mikasa kept dragging until they were all splayed out across the floor, but separated. For a second, they didn't move, but their groans were beginning to harmonize.

Jean sat up first, feeling the back of his jacket for damage. Sasha was next, her hair falling from its ponytail and her denim jacket falling off one shoulder. Connie stilled, continued to lay face down, and was silent.

"Oh man, you guys already had the compartment." Sasha lifted a finger to point inside while Eren and Armin stared through the open door with slack jaws and wide eyes. Mikasa offered a hand to Jean and he took it. When he stood, he was matched in height with her, only an inch difference, and their eyes met in the confined space of the isle.

She pulled her hand away, taking a step back. "You okay?"

He flexed his fingers, but nodded. "Thanks."

Mikasa tucked her hands behind her back, fingers fidgeting. She fought for a way to fix this sudden surge of nerves in her stomach. "Just don't expect the same on the field. I won't go easy on you."

Jean stared at her before a smile began to grow. "Yeah. Wouldn't expect you to."

"Anyway. Good luck this year." She continued.

"I'd say the same to you, but I know how your team plays, Ackerman." His deep voice dipped into playful, as his brown eyes narrowed. "I don't plan making it easy for you this year." When had he moved to invade her space? His hand was pressed flat against the wall, his body leaning toward her.

Mikasa nearly smiled, but resisted. "I guess we'll see."

"Yep. I guess we will."

She blinked and his eyes dipped once, subtly, toward her mouth. Mikasa bit her lip.

"Whoa, do you guys want to be alone?" Connie had finally stood up and he was chuckling when Jean jumped away from her. Connie fanned himself. "You're making it all steamy in here."

Mikasa watched Jean blush and then disappear after picking up his things. She didn't know what to think of him, really. He could easily get tongue-tied and babble like a moron or, just as often, he was causal and friendly. Then the subject would change to quidditch and it was like something igniting. Last year, she was convinced it was simply the passion they both shared for the sport. But a summer of thinking about it had led her to a different conclusion, one that she wasn't entirely sure how to handle. She was only certain about one thing, and that was Jean Kirstein paired with anything quidditch was undoubtedly her weakness.

~-0-~

Jean had found a spot in the very last car, a cabin that smelled musty and had less room between the seats so that tall people couldn't stretch out properly. He grumbled as he stowed his suitcase above and didn't turn when he heard steps behind him.

"Look, I went out and bought a suitcase like yours." Marco was already wearing his robes, black with a maroon and gold tie. He set down a suitcase similar to Jean's proudly. "See, it has the wheels just like yours. And the handle that goes like this." He grabbed the handle near the top and pulled up, confused when he couldn't make it move. "No, but it did go up and down a second ago." He jostled it around until it gave and he stumbled backward, head smacking on the open doorway to the cabin. Still, he beamed triumphantly while rubbing the back of his head.

"It's just a suitcase. It's really not that exciting." Jean lifted his guitar case next and got in place before gesturing that Marco wheel his suitcase over. He lifted it into the storage compartment for him.

"I know, I know. If I'm being honest, the exciting part was buying it." Marco sat down first and Jean followed, frowning when his knees were pushed right up against Marco's. It was stuffy, the air dense and making him sweat. He didn't want to have to take off his jacket and when he tried to slide the window open, it wouldn't budge. Without a second thought he pulled the wand from the inside pocket of his lambskin bomber jacket. The right outside pocket had a hole in it, but he had sewn in the inside pocket to be the perfect concealed wand holster.

He jabbed with his wand hand, incanting aloud, and the window fell open with a crash. Thankfully, the glass hadn't shattered. Sweet air began to stream through the opening, ruffling the ends of his dark blonde hair and allowing him his first sense of calm since boarding the train. The incident with Mikasa didn't count, that was anything but calm.

"Oh." Marco sat up quickly and went to his suitcase, unzipping one side and pulling out a few magazines. "Honestly, I can't get over how much easier they are to use than those bulky trunks I've had to carry around since starting school."

"Are those the new issues of Quidditch Monthly?" Jean had read the ones from last season until the pages were falling out.

"Yep. The last three issues." Marco handed them over and Jean began flipping through the pages. "I also got you a Daily Prophet…"

Jean took it and tossed it next to him, his eyes never leaving the magazine. "Are you kidding me? Brazil lost against Germany? I would have bet money on Brazil."

"Yeah, it was all anyone could talk about for weeks. Almost a complete shut out." Marco supplied happily. Jean absorbed the months of information he'd missed while living in a two bedroom cottage outside Reading. Marco tapped his fingers over his leg, deciding to push on even though Jean was otherwise distracted. "By the way, how was your summer?"

"Hm? Fine." Jean turned the page. "You?"

"It was nice, actually. I wish we could have organized a visit at some point. Maybe next summer."

Jean looked up briefly. "Yeah, I don't know. I can't really leave…"

"Yeah, I know." Marco paused before continuing carefully, "How is your mom doing?"

Jean's fingers clenched, crumpling the pages in his hand. "She's fine."

"I saw you earlier, but it looked like you were talking about something serious so I didn't want to interrupt." Marco shifted in his seat, his hands in fists against his knees. He approached the topic cautiously, Jean knew that friendly concern was just a part of Marco, but that didn't make his anger any less potent. He bit his tongue to keep from snapping rudely.

"I get it. You don't like talking about it." Marco smiled. "Sorry."

"No, you don't have to apologize. It's not a matter of me wanting to talk about it, it's that I can't without wanting to punch something." Jean let the magazine close.

They swayed back and forth in their seats with the movement of the train. The steady beat of the wheels on the tracks punctuating the silence. Jean started to watch the scenery pass by, since it helped to clear his head. He swallowed, but his throat felt dry. The trolley wouldn't get to them until last and the sun was already far in the west, nearly dipping below the horizon.

"So. What about you and Hannah. You hadn't mentioned her this entire time is everything…" Jean stopped. "Oh. Sorry, man."

"It's okay." Marco waved his sympathy away, smiling. "It was a mutual thing. Just didn't work out."

"You should have wrote me."

"Not the kind of thing I wanted to explain in a letter." Marco said.

Jean smirked, sitting up fully from his slouched position. "That's why you need a cell phone."

"You know my mom won't let me get one. She says they need too much information and they have to send bills to your house." Marco lowered his voice. "And they can track you. Find out where you are. What happens if a cell phone employee walks up to our house and sees me on my broomstick or my mother hanging the laundry with magic?"

"Okay, first of all, calm down. You don't have to actually get one. Second, they can track you, but they won't. I bring mine everywhere." Jean knew that cell phones wouldn't work inside Hogwarts, but Hogsmeade was a different story. He may not get any service all the way out there since wizards didn't care about maintaining cell towers, but that didn't mean he couldn't stick in some headphones and listen to his music.

"I don't know, my mom says that cell phones steal your information and sell it so that people can steal your identity. It's stronger even than Polyjuice potion and…what? Why is that funny?"

"Oh my God." Jean held his sides and Marco couldn't help but smile too.

"I'm going to assume I'm wrong, then."

Jean fell onto his side, ignoring the sudden smell of mildew from the seat as mirth overpowered his other senses. His stomach began to hurt.

"You know, it wasn't that funny."

~-0-~

A few hours later night had fallen completely. The train pulled into Hogsmeade station and Annie threw her bookbag over her shoulder. While everyone else was lugging around trunks she moved easily through the small isles of the train. She wore her Ravenclaw robes with a white hoodie underneath. Her wand was in her pocket and she stepped lightly from the platform and dodged the hesitant first years to reach the carriages.

When she saw the who was in the group waiting to board, she nearly turned around on the spot.

"Oh, hi Annie. How was your summer?" Historia noticed her too quickly, those large doe eyes were more observant than they appeared. With the Historia's greeting, Ymir's head swiveled on her neck, acknowledging Annie with a cold glance. She had an arm resting on Historia's much shorter shoulder and narrowed her eyes as Annie approached.

"Fine." Annie answered quickly as a carriage pulled up. The skeletal winged horses stamped into the ground as they waited to proceed. Annie looked away from them to decline the offer for a seat. Their carriage wasn't yet full, but she didn't really care to join them. The carriage disappeared and she settled into waiting for the next one.

"Hi."

Annie felt a presence behind her shoulder and didn't need to look to know who it was. She nodded, even though her back was to him. "Hey."

They waited for the next carriage together and sat across from each other. Bertolt's robes were above his knees. He'd grown out of his older brother's hand-me-downs last year and now they were even smaller in comparison to his height. Annie would have asked, but she already knew what he would say. 'These robes are fine. I don't need new ones. My younger brother needs medicine more than I need robes.' She pushed the hair back from her eyes and let it fall again.

"Our first trip to Hogsmeade, I'm buying you new robes." She said.

Bertolt opened his mouth and then closed it. "Okay."

Annie nodded and was nearly relieved that they would be the only ones in that carriage when three more students showed up. Great.

"See, Mikasa, there's room." Eren hopped inside, nodding in greeting to Annie and Bertolt. He was the king of obliviousness, Annie reflected. He could waltz through a funeral and not catch on that someone was dead.

Mikasa squeezed next to Eren, pushing Bertolt farther into the corner. Armin sat in the space next to Annie, greeting her with a friendly hello.

"Hey." She replied. Give it a few weeks, she thought. Just a few weeks to feel adjusted. The summer was still fresh in her mind. The home she left had spread into her pores and it would be a while before she could scrub herself clean.

"I would ask how your summer went, but you never answer me when I do." Armin said cheerfully. He gave Annie a smile when she turned to look at him.

"Is everything okay at home?" Eren asked quickly. Armin winced, guilty that he had mentioned it at all.

"Yeah. Peachy." Annie said flatly.

"And how was your summer Bert?" Armin spoke over Eren's response, giving his fellow Ravenclaw a grin. Annie would thank him later for the diversion. Honestly, if she had to respond to Eren just then, she was not going to be nice about it.

The carriage moved with silence from the three Ravenclaws. Annie, Bertolt, and Armin said very little while Eren talked animatedly to Mikasa. Annie was thankful to finally be rid of them once they arrived at the castle.

She found her seat quickly, leaning her face on one hand as she waited for the announcements. She considered skipping it altogether, except that she liked watching the sorting. Even if she couldn't yet join their celebration, she liked being there when her house welcomed new members.

A/N: So there's some stuff going on, I plan on expanding on all these characters at some point of the course of this story. So if you're intrigued, then follow and hopefully you'll enjoy what you read. I try.