Chapter6: Classes Begin (& Meeting a New Buddy)

Frisk was about to start work on his transfiguration homework, to give professor McGonagall a good impression of him. He had just taken his wand from it's casing when he noticed three older boys approach him. He noted that it was the boy with the lightning scar, the chubby boy who had the toad and the possibly a Weasley boy. "Hi," the chubby boy mumbled. "I'm… I'm Neville. Neville Longbottom. This is Harry potter and that's Ron Weasley."

"Hi," Frisk told him with a smile.

"I… I can sympathize with your past…", Neville mumbled again.

Frisk could only stare blankly.

"I too… have gotten shouted at before, because of results..." Neville clarified. "By my gramps… and being sent away from the parents in an attempt to lead a happier childhood? I totally get that too..."

"What Neville was trying to say," Harry told Frisk, "is that all three of us have a part of your experience that we know what it's like. If you need any help, Please do ask. Gryffindors need to stick together, right?"

"Right!" Neville and Ron chorused.

"Thank you…" Frisk told them, and he wholeheartedly meant it.

Over the next week, Frisk was gradually introduced to all the first year courses at Hogwarts school for Witchcraft and Wizardry. Of all the courses he had been introduced to, the one he felt was closest to being his forte was Charms. Professor Flitwick was an excellent teacher, or "cher", as he heard his elder brother mentioned overhearing his own classmates saying in reference to teachers in general. Professor Flitwick was ready to assist a student with wand positioning/handling and also had good jokes on hand to cheer up and calm down students whose charmworks had gone screwy. Frisk liked him almost immediately.

The one that gave him a nightmarish time was broom flying (101). It wasn't that he didn't like madam Hooch. Far from it actually. It was just that ever since his abseiling experience about a year prior, he was convinced that he should have his two feet on solid ground at all times, (or at least make sure he wasn't looking down from a great height until he's absolutely certain he's safe,) and his broom, a school supplied one since first years weren't allowed to bring their own brooms to school, apparently agreed with him. He spent an entire fifteen minutes calling the broom to go "Up!" before it finally agreed to do so. By then, most of the other Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs had already taken to the skies. "Don't worry about it, Mr Dreemurr. Not everyone can be a natural flier. We can work on that next week," was what Mdm Hooch told him.

For astronomy, that took place every Wednesday night, those were the times that students were allowed outside the dormitories after curfew. Sure, it was fun to look at the night time skies, after having most of the lessons and of the day itself confined to within the castle walls, but the coursework itself involved rote memorisation. A task at which Frisk was good at, but wasn't really fond of. Ms Sinistra tried to make the lessons interesting, an admirable effort to be sure, but it was History of Magic all over again as far as he was concerned.

Herbology was an interesting subject for him, though it was nerve-wracking at first, due to Professor Sprout indicating that they'll be studying a talking flower from the Underground. Frisk was thus relieved when he discovered that she was actually talking about studying the Echo Flower for those few weeks, though irritated that he'd fallen for the same bait and switch Sans pulled on him, unintended though, for Professor Sprout's case.

Frisk was on his way from herbology to his first ever Defense against the Dark Arts class when he was stopped by a sound. He turned around the corner to be greeted by the sight of a Gryffindor student racing down the corridor and turn left, to her next class. At first, Frisk didn't think much about that. She wasn't the first student running so as to not be late for class after all… Then, not fifteen seconds later, the same student came running through the corridor again… and turn to the right hand side. After a few seconds to register that sight, he realized he even recognized her. Hermione. The one who put up her hand during his story.

Curious, but not willing to be late for a lesson with a 'cher he had not yet meet, Frisk quickened his pace. If Charms was where his forte was at, Defense against the Dark Arts might just be his favourite class. He'd heard the rumours that surrounded the first lessons for most of the other years and if it was to happen for them as well, all the more motivation to be there on time… and on time he was.

"Would we be looking at boggarts?", Violet Mills asked Professor Lupin, after he had taken attendance and introduced himself.

"I'm afraid not," Lupin said, raising his hand in acknowledgement of the class' disappointment. "Not on the first week. I think I shall reserve that lesson for a special occasion. Instead, let us discuss a simpler creature, the will-o-wisp." With that, Lupin began, leading them all on an enjoyable ride of a discussion which saw everyone, including Frisk himself, contribute in.

When Saturday for that week came, even before starting on his homework, Frisk absolutely had to write a letter home. In it, he described the castle, his classes and even the food. Also, he included Luna's request for an interview for the Quibbler. But most importantly of all, he mentioned how homesick he was; both for his British home and his home country's. "I had just gained a family away from home," he wrote, "and had to leave both families behind. I hope you, foster dad, mom, dad, bro way back in Singapore and all the others are doing fine. Love, Frisk.

With that, he placed the letter into an envelope, sealed it and left for the owlery.

It was a relatively uneventful trip both ways, barring a brief encounter with the caretaker of Hogwarts', Mr Filch's, cat, mrs Norris, as unpleasant as the others had said she was, even to those who were trying to be friendly, and admittedly a bit creepy as to how much cat and owner seemed to be two pairs of a whole, like they've formed a pact somehow, and all the benefits that come with it….

The Owlery itself was a massive room filled with owls, some of the kinds Frisk had heard of, and some of the kind he didn't. He managed to enlist the assistance of one of the school's barn owls after the promise of a treat from Toriel's, (snails being one of an owl's favourite foods, as stated in her Snails facts book). Once that was done, the rest of the weekend was spent doing his homework. "Was it really to be called homework, if it was done in the same building it was issued in?" That was the kind of thought Sans placed in his head. Some of those weekend's hours were spent by the lake, enticed by the thought of a second tentacled being other than Onion-San. It was even reportedly friendly, another reason for Frisk to check it out.

He got back a reply on Tuesday morning, a medium package with an extremely long letter that had it's reason being the replies from all his monster friends and that of his actual family back home, (sent via their home family, which Toriel printed out.) Mom had included her contact details, saying she'd be happy to do that interview, and the package itself contained, wrapped within many sheets of plastic wrap, not pie, but rather a standard packet's worth of cinnamon cookies with butterscotch chips. He would share some with Ginny and the Weasley twins later of course, but Frisk just couldn't resist taking one now.

It tasted like home.

The second week was the same like the last one. Transfiguration was still as hard, astronomy and history of magic still managed to be boring and cher' Snape still hated everything about Gryffindor in general.

But it was flying that felt like it's on ultimate difficulty in Frisk's book. After what felt like the 100th time in trying to get his broom to fly up to his hand this time around, Frisk finally paused to catch his thoughts. That was when one of the Hufflepuffs came up from behind him and broke into his chain of thoughts.

"It's your voice," the person said.

Frisk looked behind for the source of the voice. It was from a boy around the same height as him with black hair combed to his left hand side and spectacles.

"What do you mean?" Frisk managed to mutter.

"It sounds to me that you don't actually want the broom to come up, and it actually picked up on it," the boy explained. After a grin of embarrassment, especially on how true that was, the boy continued. Not sure if you understand the word… but, CERDI… YA!" Frisk instinctively straightened to his full height, and all the seriousness that comes with it… A moment that didn't flee the boy's notice. "You do recognise that term… Anyway, now that's done, take a second, and tell the broom to come up with confidence."

Frisk took a deep breath, focused on the broom and gave his best "up!" The broom finally acknowledged him. Frisk boarded the broom cautiously, trying to get a feel of it.

"Here," the Hufflepuff said patiently, "I'll stay with you. Don't worry about falling, that's what mdm Hooch is here to help with, right?"

"R-right," Frisk said dubiously. Over the course of the remaining minutes of lesson time, Frisk did fall, twice. But never far from the ground and mostly the damage from embarrassment than from the pain. Through it all, the Hufflepuff boy stayed virtue by his side, encouraging him.

When madam Hooch called for the brooms to be put away, Frisk stood by his benefactor. "Thanks. What's your name?" Frisk asked, wiping away the last bits of sweat from his forehead.

"I'm Aldson, Aldson Lodez, said the Hufflepuff. I was part of the Singapore Boys Brigade, hence those commands. When I grow up, I hope to be biologist."

"Hi, I'm Frisk. Frisk Goh Dreemurr," Frisk said, smiling. " I'm also from Singapore. When I grow up, I am to be an inventor… of stuff, yeah."

As the bell rang and they headed back up to the castle… "I heard that right? You're from Singapore?" Aldson asked. Frisk nodded. "Good to see another familiar face… Guess I'll see you around for the next year London Singapore birthday Party?"

"Yeah, totally. No place sweeter than home amiright?"

"Right," Aldson said, nodding. "Anyway, if you have time to spare on Saturday, head down to the pitch and we may be able to watch one of the teams practise. Plus, if madam Hooch lets us, we might be able to get some flying practice in."

"I'd like that, Aldson, thank you." Frisk told him, extending out a hand.

One handshake later, the two newly forged friends parted ways. For the second time in a month, Frisk was greeted by the sight of Hermione running in opposite directions to two separate hallways, no more than 30 seconds apart. Frisk could only stare after her, the confusion evident in his face.