Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. All of this belongs to JK Rowling.



He's doing it again. That thing where he reads something out of the textbook as if it's his own words. He's always goofing off at the back of the classroom but if you asked him at any given time what the 12 uses for dragon blood are, not only would he recite them to you word for word from the book but he'd make its sound like he's the one who discovered them. We're in charms class. I sit at the front with Dorcas like the good keener that I am and Potter sits at the back with Remus who always looks like he's not sure whether to be amused or embarrassed.

We're supposed to be learning the bubble-head charm today but we always get sidetracked in this class and somehow we stumbled onto the topic of name origins. Go figure. I guess if I ever find myself in need of the ability to breathe underwater I'll be at a loss. Not that I can think of a time when I would ever, ever need to know that.

"My last name means one who makes earthen vessels," Potter yells. He's always yelling.

"No, it doesn't!" I scoff.

"Yeah it does," James nods his head vehemently. "Potter, pots, vessels," he says.

Oh, that does make sense.

"Don't be thick," I call across the room, "It does not mean that, just because they sound the same," I say rolling my eyes.

"Fine, look it up then!" He says challengingly and tosses me a small, worn, red leather book.

"The Origins of Surnames," I read the title out loud. "So you just carry this thing around with you?" I ask incredulously.

"That's besides the point, just look at it!"

Sure enough, he's right. Of course he's right, I knew he was all along but it's like some sort of unspoken code that I have to disagree with him.

"Pfft, that's just one book, for all I know you could have written this thing," I roll my eyes as I chuck the book back at him. "Come back with some credible sources and maybe I'll believe you."

"Interesting as this discussion is, we should really get back to the bubble charm," chides Professor Tippins. "As I was saying, the bubble-head charm enables the user to remain under water for extensive periods of time without having to hold their breath."

"Do you know who I bet doesn't even need to use a bubble-head charm?" Potter demands before staring around the room challengingly. "Medwin Cassels," he declares emphatically.

"Medwin Cassels?" I snort. "The singer?"

"Oh yeah," James asserts and leans back in his chair. "He can hold a note forever. I swear the guy's lung capacity is huge."

Professor Tippins does not even try to sidetrack the conversation; she just watches our exchange in rapt attention with a slack jaw.

"You seriously listen to Medwin Cassels? Doesn't he sing opera or something? I mean, my mom listens to him," I say in disbelief. My mom doesn't really listen to him since he's famous on the Wizarding Wireless and she's a muggle and all but you get the picture.

"You laugh but that man has the voice of an angel," he retorts in all seriousness. "He's a god among men."

Okay, I cannot keep a straight face when he says things like that. I turn around and bury my face in my arms, breaking down into giggles.

"Enough!" Professor Tippins exclaims, taking this opportunity to try and regain control of the class. "We need to focus on the task at hand! If every class continues to go this way, you will never be prepared to take your N.E.W.T.S next year!"

Nearly everyone in class ducks their head and snickers at this point. We hear this speech every day. There's something about putting Hufflepuffs and Gryffindors together that makes for a very mellow atmosphere and Professor Tippins can seldom get us very anxious over our in-class performance (or lack thereof).

"The incantation for this spell is capullio," she says as she flicks her wand and the word appears on the blackboard. "Your wand movement should be a swift wave away from the body before touching your wand to your temple, like so," she demonstrates, a bubble forming around her head. With a sharp jab of her wand she pops the bubble and stares around the room expectantly.

"Well go on then, try it!"

Dorcas and I look at each other uncertainly and she rushes to touch her finger to her nose.

"You first," she grins.

I shrug and pick my wand up from my desk. With a quick snap of my wrist I flick the wand away and turn it swiftly towards my face, poking myself in the eye with gusto.

"Argh," I grunt stupidly and clap my hand to my eye.

"Real graceful," James calls out. "You've grown into such a refined and elegant young lady."

Dorcas laughs so hard she spits.

"As if you're much better," I growl at her in an undertone before shooting a dirty look towards Potter.

The class carries on in much the same way except that I manage to avoid any further stabbing at my orifices with a piece of wood.

Finally the bell tolls and class is over. Dorcas and I stand and stash away our wands, textbooks and bits of parchments into our bags. At the door I tell her goodbye before she rushes away towards her Muggle Studies class. I start ambling down the corridor toward the Great Hall and catch up to Potter who is sneaking a peek over his shoulder to make sure I'm following him. I catch him grinning as I fall into step beside him.

"What are you so happy about?" I ask, even though I have a pretty good idea.

"Nothing," he says, avoiding my stare.

I roll my eyes and brace myself as we turn into the Great Hall. Lunch hour in the Great Hall can be nothing short of chaotic. Lump together a castle full of ravenous students and put food out and there's bound to be some wild antics. Couple that with bloody owls swooping in all over the place to deliver parcels and mail and you've got a real mess on your hands. Seriously, those birds are dropping feathers and Merlin knows what else all over our eating surface. It's very unsanitary.

I sit down and load up my plate, looking around for Potter but the twat has gone to find bloody Sirius which means I've been talking to myself like a mad hatter for the last thirty seconds. I look up to see if anybody's noticed and sure enough there's a tiny first-year boy sitting across from me who's hunched over his mashed potatoes and staring at me fearfully.

"I'm not crazy," I tell him seriously.

"Like hell you're not," Sirius says as he sits down next to the little boy.

"Yeah, you're barking," Potter adds, sliding in next to me and snatching my bread roll off of my plate.

Distractedly, I eye down the food in his hand.

"You're like a bird, you know that?" I mutter under my breath.

"What? What's that even mean?" he asks.

"You're always pecking at my crumbs," I grumble back at him.

"Am not!" he says through a mouthful. "Hurry up and eat," he says nodding towards my plate. "We have places to be."

"Where?" I demand and take a sip of pumpkin juice.

"Honeydukes," he jerks his head, "We'll take the tunnel behind the statue of the old hag."

"We'll never make it back to class on time," I scrunch up my nose, "and I am not skiving off History of Magic."

"We'll take brooms," James shrugs, "they'll get us down the tunnel lickety split," he says casually.

"Potter, that's breaking about fifty school rules," I protest. If I keep hanging out with this bloke I'll never get to be head girl.

"Oh, come on Evans," he taunts, "It's not like we're going to get caught," he waves me off.

I shake my head disapprovingly and am about to object when I'm interrupted by loud chuckling.
Potter and I both look up to see Sirius laughing with his arms crossed on the table.

"You know," he says looking from my face to Potter's, "You two have not changed a bit," he shakes his head. "You're still a git and she's still a prude," he smirks and looks at each of us in turn. "I don't know how you can stand each other," he snickers.

"Me neither," I say and give Potter a shove. But really I can't remember how I could stand being without him.


A/N: I hope you enjoyed it! R&R to make my day. Much love, Rabiscar.