The Saturday sun was blazing in the sky, but the cool autumn air was enough to force Myka and Pete to wear scarves as they walked across the grounds that afternoon. The occasional student on a broom raced overhead, and other pairs and small groups of people could be seen dotting the grass. Myka and Pete chose a spot under their usual tree and sat down. Myka took out an empty book and quill, and started scratching words absentmindedly into the paper.
"Whatcha up to now, Mykes?" Pete asked, prodding at the grass with his wand. "Copying out your notes again after only one week of class? You're such a keener."
"Shut up, Pete," Myka answered as the pace of her writing increased. "I'm just thinking, I guess. Everything makes better sense on paper."
"What are you thinking about?" he asked, waving his wand in an exaggerated swish-and-flick motion.
"Nothing," Myka answered in a faraway tone of voice. "My potions partner, I guess… There's something about her, and I can't put my finger on it." She put her quill down and looked over at Pete. "She makes me nervous."
"Well, what do you expect? She's a Slytherin, Mykes. They're skeevy." Pete redirected his attention at the grass.
"It's not that," Myka responded insistently, beginning to write again. "It's just a feeling… Kind of like she knows everything. And not just in a smart way, just the way she looks at me makes me feel like she can see inside my head or something–" A small explosion to Myka's left interrupted her thought and caused her turn her attention to Pete. He sat with his wand in his hand, a stunned expression on his soot-covered face. The grass in front of him was smoking slightly and had a distinctly purple colour under the black residue of the flames. Pete noticed this and dropped his wand to sink his hands into the ground.
"It worked!" he shouted, ripping up the purple grass and throwing it into the air. It rained down on Myka's hair and she swatted it away impatiently.
"What worked, Pete? Were you trying to burn the forest down or something?"
"No, the colour-change charm! It worked! See? That grass is definitely not green anymore." He plucked a blade from Myka's curls and held it up for her as proof.
"You're going to have to do better than that for your OWLs," someone said, startling both Pete and Myka. They looked up to see a first year Gryffindor girl with her arms crossed contemplating the singed patch of grass. She had brown hair with a bright scarlet streak on one side.
"And what would you know about colour-change charms, squirt?" Pete challenged her. "Looks like you misfired with one and hit your hair by accident!"
"Pete!" Myka hissed, swatting his arm. The girl shrugged it off, remaining completely calm.
"I'm a metamorphmagus, stupid. I did that on purpose." She sat down cross-legged in front of them and turned to Myka. "I'm Claudia. What's your name?"
"I'm Myka." Myka said pleasantly, slightly taken aback by the girl's forwardness. "And this is Pete." When Pete said nothing and eyed the girl suspiciously, Myka swatted his arm more forcefully.
"Ow, okay!" he shouted indignantly. "Hi, Claudia, nice to meet you. And by the way, thanks for insulting my magical prowess."
Claudia didn't respond to the remark, though, because she had noticed the bright orange badge that was fixed to Pete's bookbag by a sticking charm– Myka's work, of course. "Is that a Chudley Cannons badge?" she said excitedly, grabbing the bag to inspect it more closely.
In an instant, all traces of resentment disappeared from Pete's face. "Yeah! You a fan?"
"Since I was four years old," Claudia said, her eyes lighting up. "Remember when they beat the Falmouth Falcons–"
"– and Ragmar Dorkins fainted from the shock?" Pete finished Claudia's sentence. "Heck yes I remember! And then they moved up eleventh place in the league!"
"Oh, that was awesome!" Claudia and Pete high-fived. Pete then looked over at a bemused Myka, who had paused her writing again to observe the strange exchange.
"The little squirt might not be so bad after all," Pete said to her. "After all, I need someone to talk about Quidditch with if you won't oblige." Myka sneered in response and packed up her bags.
"Well, I guess I'll leave you two to your quaffles and snitches," she said, taking out her wand and pointing it at Pete. A jet of water shot out of the wand's tip and onto Pete's still soot-covered face, eliciting a giggle from Claudia. Myka smiled. "Just thought you might need some help cleaning up before I go."
"I like you," Claudia said suddenly to Myka. "Can we be friends?"
Myka looked down at Claudia and nodded. "Yes, Claudia. We can be friends." With one last triumphant look at the sodden Pete, Myka turned and started for the castle, listening to Claudia's matter-of-fact chatter fade into the distance.