A/N: It's a short chapter. Again. Sorry. But it's an update! Yayyy! I don't have any comments about this one really…But I hope you like!

Big thanks to yvonna and flowerspot for adding the story to their alerts, and for all the other loverly people that I already thanked last chapter(:

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Ch 4: Of Secrets and Broomsticks

September 3rd, 1992

Dawn eventually came, but it took its time. When the first rays of light slipped through the curtains, I greeted them coldly. Took you long enough.

Luna awoke first. "Good morning, Yune," she said, seeing my eyes open. She hopped out of bed and started searching for something in her bag. When she emerged, she walked over to me, clutching something in her hand. "Here," she said, holding out a small circular mirror with a tiny hole at the top that a string had been strung through. "I heard you tossing and turning last night. I'm a light sleeper." I could believe that; she had only just gotten out of bed, and her eyes were already wide open. "Put this around your neck when you sleep. It's a mirror, you see; it will reflect reality back into you, and keep the marebats away."

I really didn't have any idea what a marebat was, but I felt my tired eyes tear up. I had barely even talked to her, and she was thoughtful enough to give me a present just because she had heard me tossing and turning. "Thank you, Luna. That means a lot to me." I took the makeshift necklace and laid it gently on my night table.

She smiled her signature dreamy smile at me, nodded, and was back in her corner of the room by the time the others were stirring.

At breakfast, I couldn't stop stealing glances at the Slytherin table. At one point, a blonde-haired boy happened to look up, and our eyes accidentally met. He sneered and turned away. Did I really belong with people like that? I must have zoned out, because I felt Marcia poking me on the shoulder repeatedly.

"Earth to Yune," she said, "Didn't you hear me? I asked if we have Flying today."

"We've decided that you're the keeper of the schedule," Tilly said cheerily.

"Besides, I've already lost mine," Reyson said, patting his robes to prove his point.

I sighed dramatically. "What would you do without me?" I asked, pausing to take out the schedule from my bag. "Yeah, Flying's after Potions."

Marcia let out a whoop, causing some fifth-years down the table to glare at us with expressions that clearly read, I swear first-years get more idiotic every year. She blushed and looked at us. "Sorry. I'm just excited."

"Yeah, you should have seen her yesterday when I told her about Quidditch. She was trying to get me to teach her. She was talking so quickly I could barely get in the fact that we aren't allowed to try out in first-year," said Tilly.

"I've always dreamed about flying," she said, her cheeks still a little red. "I want to be a Chaser."

"Quidditch?" I asked. I had learned that if I just said an unfamiliar wizard term in the form of a question, Reyson and Tilly would start ranting about it.

This time, though, it was Marcia who answered. "Quidditch is a wizard sport, entirely performed on broomsticks," she began, bright-eyed.

The remainder of the morning was spent discussing the sport in great detail. The rules were explained to me in whispers during our first class of the day, History of Magic. It was taught by an ancient ghost, Professor Binns, who just droned on and on about goblin rebellions and wizard relations, and we were in the back, so whispering was easily done. I wrote an occasional note in case anything he said was important, and I saw Marcia cock her ear occasionally. I trusted that her good memory applied to lectures, too, and not just books.

After that was Defense Against the Dark Arts, where Reyson discovered that Professor Lockhart claimed to have been the Seeker for Ravenclaw when he was at school. We also discovered that it was pretty easy to discuss the pros and cons of each position while he just thought we were praising his Quidditch skills, and so we spent the rest of the class doing just that. When we left, several students were casting us reverent glances for causing another interesting class. Colin trotted next to us for a little while, blabbering something about how he thought that Professor Lockhart was a pretty amazing Quidditch player, too, and he sympathized our interest.

And so, by the time lunch came, Marcia and I had even decided—with help from Reyson and Tilly—who our favorite professional Quidditch team was, and that we couldn't wait till Flying. I had even forgotten that I didn't belong in Ravenclaw, I was so excited. Well, almost forgotten. When we walked out of the Great Hall, I bumped into Alice.

"Watch where you're going, Black," she leered.

I didn't respond, but Reyson said, "Ignore her, Yune," and glared at her stonily.

We kept walking, but one of her friends stuck her foot out and tripped me. Tilly and Marcia caught my arms, and Reyson glanced at me with concern before turning back to them. "If you weren't girls, I would have hurt you by now," he threatened.

"Back off it, Reyson; they're just jealous that we got Yune and they didn't," stated Tilly.

Unfortunately, Potions was next, but I didn't care. I loved my friends, and they wanted me with them. Life's simple pleasures. I hooked arms with Reyson and Tilly, who in turn grabbed Marcia, and we skipped to the dungeons. People were looking at us like we were crazy, but we didn't stop until we reached Snape's classroom.

"No skipping in my class," said Snape, sounding bored.

Reyson heaved a sigh, looking crestfallen.

The class seemed to last for an unnaturally long time, and I always gave an involuntary shudder whenever Snape called on me. He was the only teacher that used our last name, so, of course, I was Miss Black. He always sounded depressed, too, as if he had no hope for ours or anyone's success; it made me wonder what had happened to him that made him so bitter.

"Miss Black," he snapped suddenly, shaking me out of my thoughts, "Are you paying attention?"

"Yes, Professor Snape."

"What page are we on?"

I looked down at my book. Oops. "Fifteen?" I said hopefully.

"Miss Nidell," he said, addressing Alice. "What page are we on?"

"We're on page twenty, sir," she said primly.

"In the future, Miss Black," he began, emphasizing my name. Did I hear malice in his voice? I only forgot what page we were on, for goodness sake. "I hope that you will represent your intellectually-minded house more appropriately. Five points from Ravenclaw for being five pages behind."

Whatever had happened to him, I decided that he had deserved it.

When class was finally over, Marcia jumped up, grabbing her belongings quickly before rushing out the door.

"Oi, Marcia, hold up! Wait for us!" Tilly shouted, rushing after her.

Reyson and I glanced at each other and shrugged. Five minutes later, we met Tilly and Marcia in the courtyard, where our Flying lesson was about to take place. Two rows of broomsticks had been placed opposite each other. Marcia had chosen one, and was now standing at attention, waiting for the rest of our year to arrive. Tilly was glancing at her bemusedly, standing by the broom next to Marcia's. We made our way over and stood next to them.

"Uh, Marcia, I understand that you're excited about flying and all, but why are you being so serious—" began Reyson.

"It's nothing. Flying is just important to me, that's all."

I was about to ask why it was important, but I was interrupted by the teacher's whistle. The rest of our year had trickled in behind us.

"All right, class. Pick a broom to stand by and we will begin," said the instructor. She paused as everyone quickly found a broom. In the corner, two Hufflepuff boys began having a very heated whispered discussion while standing by the same broom. "It really doesn't matter which one you choose. They're all old school brooms that won't do anyone else any good, which is why we're using them here."

"Now then," she continued, when one of the boys had moved to a different broom, "I am Madame Hooch, and I teach all first-years the wonderful art of Flying."

To be honest, the lesson was rather dull. I successfully managed to get on my broom, and I even hovered a few feet in the air, but that was as far as I got. Reyson had a little more luck; he managed to do a few turns, and landed prettily; but Tilly, on the other hand, barely got on hers before falling off again.

Marcia definitely topped everyone in the class. She was able to get on her broom immediately, and when she did so, she automatically guided it into the air, and proceeded to fly around all of us, swerving around the others in the class who had managed to get off the ground. The three of us grinned and cheered her on.

"Miss Lane," asked Madame Hooch, "Did you practice before this lesson?"

Marcia blushed again. "I'm a Muggle-born, ma'am."

"I see. All right everyone, that's it for today. Flying lessons are every Tuesday and Thursday for the duration of September and October, though I may release you early if I feel that more training will do you no good. Class dismissed."

We walked back to the common room, praising Marcia's miraculous skills. "You were amazing, Mars!" shouted Tilly, a little too enthusiastically. A sixth year shook his head in our direction.

"I don't know if I can keep hanging out with you people. All the teenagers keep giving us strange looks," said Reyson.

I was feeling daring and elated, so I stuck a tongue out at the sixth year. He turned away quickly, pretending like he hadn't just been insulted by an eleven-year-old. "Then we give them strange looks back!" I said, grinning.

My companions nodded in agreement. We had arrived at the bronze eagle.

"What gets wetter and wetter the more it dries?" the eagle inquired.

"Wow. That's the best you've got? That didn't even sound poetic," said Reyson.

The eagle glared at him and turned back into a bronze knocker. "The answer is a towel," I said hopefully, but it remained unmoving. "Oh, fantastic. You were rude, so now it pretends like you were answering the riddle incorrectly," I said, glaring at Reyson.

Marcia and Tilly let out a collective moan, and Reyson scratched his head. "Erhm…Sorry, oh great eagle, the answer is a towel. Open says-me."

The eagle looked straight ahead stonily, ignoring him.

Ten minutes later, Amy and Eva joined us at the step.

"What gets wetter and wetter the more it dries?"

"A towel," said Eva, and the eagle glanced at Reyson reluctantly before opening itself.

"Great, now the eagle hates us," said Tilly, collapsing onto a couch dramatically. Marcia joined her.

"It's true. Next thing you know, Reyson will insult our dear old founder over there," Marcia said, indicating the statue of Rowena Ravenclaw, "And she'll kick us out."

Reyson hung his head in shame, so I patted him on the back sympathetically. "It's all right. The hat must have finally gone crazy, putting both a Black and a Calill in Ravenclaw."

"Speaking of the hat," Reyson said, suddenly perking up, "What did he say to you guys?"

Marcia replied, "For me, he just said that I had a great mind with lots of potential, and announced Ravenclaw."

"He didn't say anything to me," said Tilly. "I put it on, and then took it off when he said 'Ravenclaw'. My dad was a Muggle-born Ravenclaw, and my mum was a half-blood Ravenclaw, so it wasn't that surprising. I didn't know he talked to anyone."

"Oh," said Reyson, sounding disappointed. "What about you, Yune?"

I hadn't thought about what the hat had said since the welcoming feast. "Well, actually, he considered putting me in Slytherin or Gryffindor," I said, remembering. "He said that…" I broke off.

"Hmm," the hat had mused, "And where shall we put you? I could put you in Slytherin; I've put plenty of Blacks there before."

Then I had told him no. And then he had talked about my parents. My parents. My parents had been wizards! A Gryffindor and a Ravenclaw.

"…That what?" urged Reyson.

"Nothing. He just had trouble deciding." I wasn't sure why I didn't want to tell him about the conversation the hat and I had. I just needed more time to think about it. Yes, that was it. Just needed to think.

"Oh," he said again.

"And what did he say to you?" I asked him.

"Nothing. Not really. Just debated a little, like you said."

I wondered what the hat had really said to him, but I didn't ask. I didn't want to tell, either; we deserved our privacy.

"Well, now that that's out of the way," said Tilly, clapping her hands together. "Who's up for dinner?"

Silly Tilly. Hehe, that rhymed. Anywho~ If you liked it, hated it, thought it was okay, or just got bored, please let me know by reviewing or PMing me! Would love to know what you think.