Urafiki Museveni and Jack Fezziwig sat on their solid oak beds as they waited for the return of Dane. Of all the senior boys at Barnabas Brixbee's, Urafiki and Jack were the only ones who shared a room. They had specifically asked for a shared room every year since being room mates in their first year. Since then, they spent almost every waking moment together. It had, or course, come as a shock to many that the boys had become best friends practically the moment the met. The reason for this being that Jack could speak English and a bit of Spanish, and Urafiki could only speak Swahili at the time.
Whatever bond connected them seemed invisible to almost everyone else. Jack's father owned a successful clockwork shop in New York. Ura's father was a coffee bean farmer in Uganda. Ura had dozens of exotic and strange pets. Jack had one tortoiseshell cat named Freyja. Ura was quiet, witty, and clever. Jack was a bit dim and naive, but honest and jovial. And of course, there was the language barrier.
What people didn't realize was that, upon arriving at Barnabas Brixbee's, Ura and Jack shared a moment that would glue them together for life. It was a small thing, but none the less important to them. They arrived at school via the floo network at roughly the same time. When the stern faced headmaster came to escort the small troop of boys to the dinning hall, they walked next to each other, shoulder to shoulder. When the headmaster tripped over a small Polish boy, and they were the only ones to laugh (hysterically among the group of worried first years), their fate in both detention and friendship was sealed. Laughter, it seemed, was a universal language.
They were only too pleased to find out that they shared a room. And although Jack was hopeless at learning Swahili, with Jack's help, Ura was able to learn English fast enough. Together, the boys did everything together. They took the same classes together, joined the Quodpot team together, and strove to "have good" time, together. The latter of the list being the reason they sat, swaddled in afghans, on their beds, waiting for Dane.
When a small rap was heard on the door, Ura called "Enter" almost immediately. Carefully, Dane pushed open the door and slipped in, carrying a self-heating cauldron and a few tinted bottles.
"My head hurts," lamented Jack.
"I know," answered Dane as he turned the cauldron over on the desk. Various dried herbs, tied with twine fell out. "That's why I brought this. Now, what exactly did you guys take?"
"A gram of snout-moss each," replied Ura, in his warm, deep voice.
"I thought so...," said Dane more to himself than anything.
Turning the cauldron back on it's base, Dane tapped it with his wand, causing it to heat up instantly. He uncorked one of the bottles and poured half it's unpleasant, yellowish contents into the cauldron. He did the same in varying quantities to two of the other bottles, pausing to stir the contents with his wand before he did so each time. He tore up a few of the herbs and sprinkled it over the concoction. Finally, he added a little mint to help mask the taste of the the potion, although neither Ura nor Jack had any idea what he was doing. During this process, no one had spoken; Dane from concentration, Ura and Jack from sickness.
Dane conjured a couple of mugs and dipped them into the cauldron, filling them up with a steaming brown liquid. He handed the mugs to Ura and Jack, who downed the contents with the mastery of one accustomed to jager bombs. Suddenly, it was as if a fog lifted from the heads of Ura and Jack.
Jack threw his afghan off as he said to Dane, with a big grin on his face, "Aw, man, I love you!" He then proceeded to pull out three beers from under his bed, handing the two extra to his companions. Dane shook his head at Jack's single-mindedness, but accepted the bottle anyway. He then slid down the wall to sit on the floor.
"Yeah, I'm surprised, Dane. We should hang out more. This is nice," said Ura as he stretched back on his bed.
It was nice, and Dane was surprised. He had been as shocked as any when he had rescued them from being caught for drug use (and they certainly would have been caught). He couldn't watch them get kicked out of school, all the while knowing he could have prevented it. Being with Sasha had certainly opened him up to kindness, however small the action. He even walked the guys back to their dorm room. Along the way, they talked about nothing, and it was the most entertaining conversation Dane had enjoyed in a long while. It was like having friends, Dane thought. Not that he had ever had any, apart from Sasha.
During his childhood, Dane's father had tried to isolate his large family. To control them so they could never leave. His five kids were at least allowed to go to school, but his wife was literally forced to stay. Years of torment had reduced her to nothing better than a squib, and she absolutely could not fight the spell off. Could not fight the curse off. Since running away, or being kicked out depending on how one looked at it (either way, he could not stay with his family any longer), Dane had found something close to love in the wiccan muggle, Aridne. She made him feel like her own son. Then there was Sasha. Flawed, beautiful, frustrating, intoxicating, Sasha. She had set his world on fire with one glance of her silver grey eyes.
"Mm. I just think it's a shame that we could have had so much more time together," Jack said, sloppily. His permanent drunken slur shook Dane from his thoughts.
"It's alright, buddy. He's here now, and that's the important thing," Ura said, nodding his head confidently at Jack to comfort him.
"Ura?"
"Yeah, buddy?"
"Are we actually supposed to help set up for Quodpot tryouts?"
"No."
"Decent. Ura?"
"Yeah?"
"Are the tryouts today?"
"Yeah, but we've got a couple hours. Don't worry."
"Alright. Dane?"
Dane, who had been quiet up until this point, raised his head in surprise of his name being called. "What?"
"Are you gonna try out for Quodpot?"
"Er, no. I don't think so."
Jack flipped onto his stomach and asked in a serious tone, "How come?"
Dane shrugged. "'Don't know how to play."
"It's easy. Each team has 11 players. Each side of the pitch has a pot. Try to get the Quod - "
"-The ball-," Ura interjected.
"- into the pot, before it explodes. Get it in, your team gets a point. If the ball explodes while you're in possession, you get benched."
"That's pretty much it," Ura confirmed.
"I don't really play English sports, never mind American ones."
"But you go to an International school, don't you?" Jack said, oblivious to his puppy dog eyes.
"Come on, Dane. Don't be a wet blanket," Ura teased. Then he laughed, "You want to impress that pretty girly of yours, don't you?"
Sasha. Dane's stomach tightened.
"What girly?" asked Jack, confused, but very much intrigued. He jumped onto Ura's bed.
"Sasha Winchcombe."
Sitting up quickly, Jack proclaimed, "Oh, that girl is smokin'!"
Ura nudged him in the ribs.
"I didn't mean anything, I'm just sayin'. Good choice, man, good choice."
Dane knew Jack didn't mean any harm. He had only really known them for less than an hour, despite having been classmates with Ura and Jack for just over six years, but he was quiet enjoying himself. Admittedly, he had always taken the pair for idiots, but now he saw they were good natured, and easy to be with. They didn't put pressure on you to have a conversation. They were like Sasha in that respect. And, hey, things had gone well with Sasha...
