A Short, Blonde Stranger

Author's Note #1: Happy Halloween! Be sure to watch out for vengeful spirits, keep on well-lit streets, and to not stay out TOO late. Escpecially if you have school they next day...

Author's Note #2: Don't worry, Death the Kid WILL return, and (relatively) unharmed. He's supposed to be the main character of this story, after all. :)

Author's Note #756: Chocoholic-Wallflower, much as I would appreciate this story being turned into a movie, there'd be way too many copyright lawsuits.

The second-last stop was Madam Malkin's Robes for all Occasions. As there were only three witches on fitting duty and someone was already there, Soul and Black Star went to the back while Crona, Maka, Tsubaki and Napoleon stayed up front. In the meantime the werewolf left for a pick-me-up at the Leaky Cauldron while the others started to read their textbooks. Crona read about Magical Theory because that seemed the least scary. Tsubaki eagerly delved into One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi while Maka began reading Dead or Alive?

Back in the back, Soul and Black Star were being fitted on either side of a pale, blond boy with a smirking face.

"Hullo," said the boy. "Hogwarts too?"

"Yes," replied Black Star and Soul.

"My father's next door buying my books and my mother's up the street looking at wands, even though the wand clearly chooses its owner," continued the boy. He didn't seem fazed that one of his companions was noticeably short with blue hair and a unicorn horn taped to his forehead, while the other had silver hair and fangs. Fortunately their clothes were covered up at the moment. "Then I'm going to drag them off and look at racing brooms. I don't see why first years can't have their own. I think I'll bully my father into getting one and smuggle it in...somehow."

Clearly the boy expected them to know what he was talking about. And to care about his life, for that matter.

"Have you got your own broom?" demanded the boy.

"Yes," drawled Soul, cutting off whatever Black Star was going to say. "I would hop around the house with it when I was little, and pretend it was a pony."

The boy gaped. "Is this some kind of broom torture? What did it do to you while flying?"

Soul tried to think of a suitable response. "It was too slow," he shrugged.

Belatedly he realized the boy mentioned the broom was flying. How was that possible?

Even more belatedly he realized that Medusa was riding on a broom before. Brooms must be a magical form of transport, Soul deduced.

"Anyway," continued the boy, "since your broom was too slow, I assume you never played Quidditch?"

"No." Soul cleverly avoided having to deduce what a Quidditch was. Maybe it was like croquet, with brooms.

"I do - Father says it's a crime if I'm not picked for my house, and I must say I agree - even though first years have never been picked for a century. Know what house you'll be in yet?"

Soul shook his head, though he hadn't actually heard the question. He was too busy having weird mental images of this boy playing croquet with brooms.

"No," Black Star firmly replied, trying to get back into the conversation.

"Well, no one really knows until they get there, do they, but I know I'll be in Slytherin, all our family have been - imagine being put in Hufflepuff, I'd think I'd leave, don't you?"

"Oh yeah," said Black Star. "Even the name's stupid. That's the path to anti-stardom. Except if I got put in it I'd start beating up the entire faculty." He didn't actually know what he was talking about.

Somewhere in the Department of Mysteries, a new prophecy spawned.

"Should the man of Star house

Be placed with the lowly Hufflepuffs

He won't even try to pass

But will rather kick teacher (&(&."

"So, where are your parents?" wondered the boy. "Are they shopping too?"

"Mine are dead," offered Black Star happily.

"Mine are non-existent," added Soul, but realizing how awkward that would sound, covered with, "um, I mean dead. It was...very tragic. The house blew up. It happened when I was 1, so I don't remember anything. Except for a flash of...green light. Then I was adopted by another kind family."

"Oh, sorry for both of you," said the boy, not sounding sorry at all.

"Don't mention it," interrupted Black Star. "I'll become better than my family ever was! I'll be the greatest st - um, WIZARD EVER!"

Unfortunately Black Star didn't realize that he wasn't magical. Since both his parents were apparently magical, that technically makes him a Squib. So Mosquito was wrong. Mwa ha ha ha...ha!

The boy cocked his eyebrow curiously at his little speech. "Um, okay. If you say so. But your parents, they were our kind, weren't they?"

"*(&() yeah they were!" proclaimed Black Star, not actually comprehending the question.

"I don't know," shrugged Soul. "Like I said, I never knew them. I'd assume so, though."

"I really think they shouldn't let the other sort in, do you? They're just not the same. They've never been brought up to know our ways. Some of them have never even heard of Hogwarts until they got the letter, imagine."

Black Star shrugged. He had heard of Hogwarts before his 'letter'...via Kid's.

"I think they should keep it in the old wizarding families. What are your names, anyway?"

Before either Soul or Black Star could answer, all of their witches had simultaneously finished their fittings. The three boys hopped down on from their footstools.

"Well, I'll see you at Hogwarts, I suppose," drawled the boy as he exited the shop. Crona shivered as he walked by.

Maka, Tsubaki and Crona went to the back of the shop to be fitted while Black Star and Soul waited in the front. Black Star spent the entire time ranting about what a &*&^ the boy was, and how he wanted to be in this Slytherin house, just so he could beat up the boy alllll day.

Soul couldn't help but notice interesting parallels between Black Star and the new kid. They both expected everyone else to care about their lives - but that kid was so smug about everything, while Black Star just liked to yell.

Eventually the others got their robes fitted and purchased, along with the rest of the uniform (conveniently), so the weapons and meisters prepared for the final step of their shopping trip: getting a wand.

Next time: The wand monopoly! Total chaos at Ollivander's!

Author's Note: Have fun trick-or-treating...if you're not too old.