I crashed in my bed face down, boots still firmly laced on my feet, before I even got a chance to say hello to the five other girls with whom I shared a room. Luckily enough, Hermione managed to nudge me awake in time for breakfast.

I slouched out of bed, rubbing the sleep from my eyes, and glancing at the other girls who were getting dressed. A trunk had either appeared at the end of my bed in the night or been there when I had arrived and I was just hopefully oblivious to its existence. It was large and done up in dark brown leather with big buckles, similar to the trunks at the end of the other girls' beds. I opened it to reveal a neat stack of books to the left, an assortment of sweaters, skirts, ties, and shirts to the right. A pocket above it held a roll of parchment with a red wax seal holding it closed. I broke the seal with my thumb and out tumbled a wand that stuck in between the books and the clothes.

Maximum,

I hope you had a lovely trip to Hogwarts. The Hogwarts scholarship board have extended their generosity to buy you and your Flock's supplies for this coming school year. Enclosed should be a wand that will suit you until you are ready to find your own. Please wear the robes with the house tie or you will be in violation of dress code. Your class schedule is in your book Hogwarts, A History and is identical to other girls' schedules in your year. Enjoy breakfast!

Sincerely,

Albus Dumbledore

I pawed through the clothes, picking out a not-so-hideous grey sweater, tie, and a shirt with which to wear it. The skirt I was apprehensive about, but there weren't any pants in here, so I pulled it on anyway along with the long black robes with a Gryffindor crest embroidered over the heart. The brogues didn't fit, so I kept my combat boots on and scrunched down the grey knee socks.

There, I thought, inspecting my handiwork. That looks better.

The other girls had left by now, so I grabbed my schedule and stuffed it in the waistband of my skirt, as these useless robes didn't have any pockets, and dashed out the door, closing it behind me. Unfortunately, someone else had a similar idea and we bumped right into each other, landing on the floor.

"McGonagall isn't going to let you keep those boots," the girl laughed, her stick straight red hair flopping in front of her ear. "She's a stickler for dress code and would despise anything that makes our uniform look cool in the slightest."

"Well I had to do something to improve this getup." I stood up, brushing myself off. I held my hand out to help the other girl up. "I'm Max."

She took it. "Ginny Weasley, nice to meet you. Want to go get breakfast?"

"Sure," I said. "I was going to need help to get there anyway. Those stairs are an impossible maze."

"Not used to the enchantments, huh?" Ginny asked as we walked down the stairs. "Then this term should be fun. You have N.E.W.T.S to pass."

"I have to pass a gross amphibian?" I asked, confused.

"No," Ginny shook her head and chuckled. "They're a sort of standardized testing. That's what you call them in America, yeah? They see if you're ready to pick a profession yet."

"Cool, but I'm new to all of this business, so I don't think I'll fit into the frame of magical tax broker." We walked out of the Gryffindor common room and into the bustle of students. I could see Nudge a few flights down, waiting for the staircase to connect. She was talking and laughing with her friends, the other girls in her year touching her hair as she yammered on about something (probably which shampoo she uses). I was glad to see that she was fitting in with the other girls in her grade instead of sitting like a leper in the corner. She looked up and waved at me with a bright, wide smile. I returned the wave.

"Who's she?" Ginny asked as we descended the first flight of stairs.

"My sister," I said, then followed it up hastily with, "We're adopted."

"Are the others adopted too?" Ginny asked as we walked down the second staircase.

"We have two younger siblings at home with my mom," I said, wracking my brain for a lie to tell. "Iggy and Fang are brothers."

"Really?" Ginny asked, looking surprised. "They're such opposites."

"Well..." My voice trailed off. "...genetics."

She tried to hide her suspicion as we reached the doors the the Grand Hall that were so big you could drive an AT-AT through them and not even crumble a stone. Nudge was still chatting away with her friends, but bounced over when she saw me.

"Hey Max!" She smiled. "I just looooove this place. It's so big and airy and the bed in my room is so soft that it feels like I'm sleeping on a milion clouds. Not, like, you could make a mattress out of clouds since its water vapor and all. Isn't that a weird word, 'vapor'? It sounds so grown up, like you're speaking in a British accent. Hehe, vapor."

I drew her into a crushing hug and placed a peck on her forehead. "Chill out, motormouth. You might scare off the wizards."

"Oh, yeah, forgot," She twirled a piece of her hair with her pinkie finger. She bounded back towards her friends and they tittered together, skipping into the Great Hall. "Well, I'll see you at breakfast. Bye!"

"She seems nice," Ginny said, rifling through her robes for something.

"Yeah." My stomach rumbled loudly. "When do we get food in this joint?"

"In around five minutes," she replied, pulling out her schedule and straightening it against her knee. "I usually wait around for my mates to appear, but they're probably already inside. Let's go." She casually looped her arm with mine, a girlish gesture that I was unaccustomed to, and led me inside the hall.

It was no less grand than it was last night except the sky was clear outside, which meant no clouds on the ceiling today. Food was laid out on the table, steam wafting up from different pies and hot cereals. Ginny and I sat at one end with Hermione, Ron, and a brown-haired boy. Nudge was a few people down with her fourth year friends. A few girls in Ginny's year sat across from her.

"Max, this is Hermione and Ron," Ginny said pointing to each of them. "Ron's my brother and a total pain in the-Oi!" Ron cuffed her upside the head. She rubbed her hair and then continued. "And that's Harry Potter." She paused and everyone at the table looked at me like goldfish anticipating a midnight snack.

"What?" I asked, getting freaked out by their Stepford Wives level of scaritude.

"Guess he's not famous in America," Hermione shrugged and resumed reading her book.

"He's the Boy Who Lived, the greatest wizard in all of Britain," Ginny told me, hyping him up like a two-bit pop star.

"Yeah," I scoffed. "He looks like a regular twinkle toes."

"Anyway, this is Max," Ginny showed me off to the table like a prized airedale.

"I'm not famous," Harry admonished, blushing and picking at his foot with his fork.

"Like hell you aren't," Ron said gruffly. "This kid defeated You-Know-Who when he was just still in diapers."

"I don't know who," I replied, piling food into my plate.

"What?" Ron looked at me like I was a one eared kangaroo, the porridge slipping off of his spoon and back into his bowl.

"You said You-Know-Who, and I don't know who." It was simple statement. He should have caught on by now.

"He means the Dark Lord Voldemort," Harry explained.

"Oooh, sounds kinky." I picked up a grape and popped it into my mouth. Harry blushed even more and cleared his throat, resuming the food-picking. I grinned like a madman. "You guys embarrass so easily."

"So what's the news with Dumbledore?" Hermione decided to change the conversation. "His hand was, well..."

"It's dark magic," Harry said quietly, taking a bite of his eggs. "He told me last night. Incurable."

"Oh." Silence settled over the table again. I took this as an opportunity to shove more food into my face. A hungry birdkid is not a happy birdkid.

"What I want to know is how Snape'll die this year," Ron said, taking a swig of pumpkin juice.

"Huh?" I asked, my eyebrows shooting to the top of my forehead.

"He was just assigned the position of Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher," Ginny said. "None of them stay for more than a year. Some don't survive. The position's cursed"

"And he's happy about his new job?" I bit into some toast.

"He's ecstatic," Ron said "Bloody mad, he is. I hope it's a knock on the head. Maybe a spell-gone-wrong. Wouldn't it be ironic if he was killed by a Death Eater?"

I blew out a low whistle. "I've hated many an authority figure in my time, but wanting a guy dead? No bueno. This dude can't be that bad."

All eyes swung to me with level glares. "He's that bad," Ron said, digging into his breakfast without another word. A long pause stretched across the table before anyone spoke again, the discussion of the Snape assassination plot putting a bit of a damper on things.

"So how do you like Hogwarts, Max?" Ginny asked cheerfully, picking up the pep for Gryffindor house.

"Well I haven't been here long but-" I was stopped by a figure behind me that set a hand on my shoulder. The sleeve of his robes were black with green and silver. Fang. I could see as he sat down next to me and made himself at home that he wasn't wearing the uniform underneath the robes. He had a form-fitting black t-shirt and dark jeans on with black combat boots. The traditional clothes of a rebel on the run. "Good morning."

"Is it? I didn't notice." His voice was low, his eyes shifting towards the other faces at the table, trying to decode their motives. Fang was always on edge.

I rolled my eyes. "What's up?"

"Can't I come and see you?" He teased, jostling me.

"If you haven't noticed, buddy boy, your table is over there." I pointed towards the crisply dressed mavens of the Slytherin house.

"I don't like them." He replied simply.

I gave him a look.

"They snore." He was being petulant.

"So you came complaining to me?" I scoffed. "Go and give them a right hook if they bother you any. You don't need my help."

He grabbed me around the waist and pulled me in close, whispering into my ear. "I don't like being away from you." A shiver crawled its way down my spine, his breath tingling against my ear. "Let's go flying."

I shook my head no. He released my waist and engaged me in a staring contest, pleading his case. "I said no." More staring. "Fang, don't make me take this up with the others." Oh god, he was bringing out the bambi eyes. I could feel my resolve crumbling that very second. "Shit," I swore underneath my breath. "Fine, okay? You get your wish. But later." I stressed the later.

He stood with a smug smile and kissed me on the forehead. I screwed up my face, irritated. "See you later, Max." The word 'later' held a different meaning on his tongue as he sauntered back to his seat. I immediately turned as red as a cherry pie.

"Idiot," I muttered, turning back to face the table. Everyone looked at me like goldfish in a bowl. "Ah, you heard all of that, didn't you?"

"Who is he?" Ginny asked, looking about as deeply invested in my personal life as a Supernatural fangirl.

"Er, well..." I really didn't want to say anything since Fang and I have never really done the 'what am I to you?' talk.

"He's your boyfriend, isn't he?" asked Pavarti Patel a few seats down.

"Well not really-"

"Is he your brother?" asked Hermione.

"In the strictest sense, no-"

"So he's your boyfriend?" Lavender Brown leaned in, wanting to get her paws on the juicy gossip.

"Whoever he is, he's a looker." Ginny commented.

"Girls are going to be clamouring after him," Ron said sullenly. Boy was he a sourpuss. "Transfer students get all of the attention."

"His legs in those jeans, though." Pavarti and Lavender giggled. "And that shirt-"

"He's my boyfriend," I said sharply. I knew I would regret saying that later. "His name is Fang."

"A Gryffindor and a Slytherin," Hermione said thoughtfully. "Hogwarts would take up arms at the thought."

"You guys have a rivalry or something?" I asked, trying to pass over the topic of Fang.

"Only the longest," Harry said. "Slytherin is the dark arts house. Everyone who graduates ends up becoming a Death Eater or a criminal."

"At least they're snazzy dressers," I quipped. Again they all looked at me. Maybe I wasn't as well suited to the Gryffindor house as the Sorting Hat thought. "Hey, evil knows how to pick as suit."

"And they know how to kill someone for it, too," Ron said gravely.

And thus, the British populace managed to ruin my entire day. Sigh.

I had to split their first day into around three chapters from their different perspectives. Not all of the days will be like that, just the first. Draco will enter NEXT chapter. And the question of the day is...

Should the Flock be good at magic or not?

Stay gorgeous, my lovelies!

-Acca