The Gryffindor Friend

Tom eyes the kid with a certain distaste. He's a bit dumpy, and his teeth could use a realignment, but at least it's not Talbot Buchanan.

"Friend," Tom says, trying his widest smile, "how are you?"

The kid looks rather suspicious. Perhaps because he's currently flanked by six Slytherins, a few of which aren't happy to see him.

"Riddle," the kid says back, "what do you want?"

Ah, a direct guy. Not the worst possible outcome. But how to gain his trust? Tom has never been too good with that.

He thinks to himself, what would Professor Dumbledore do in such a situation? He remembers a direct quote from The Alchemy of Life, which credits his mentor for saying 'Love conquers all'.

As always, Professor Dumbledore provides the ideal solution.

"Ertan here," he says, dropping an arm on Ertan's shoulders, "has a crush on Minerva McGonagall."

"What?" Ertan spouts. Thoros and Argo struggle to smother their laughter.

"Don't be shy," Tom tells him, "Wilde here is a trustworthy friend."

"William," Dumpy corrects him, "William Alderton."

As if it matters.

"You'll help us out, won't you?" Tom asks William. "We just want to learn Minerva's schedule, give Ertan a chance to meet her alone."

William seems amused by the prospect of Minerva McGonagall being wooed by an eleven-year-old. Or perhaps by the thought she might flatten him for his daring.

"Sure," he says, "but if you confess to her, I want to be there."

Tom shakes his hand to close the deal, and everyone leaves the scene with satisfaction.

"Cheer up," Tom tells Ertan, who's the only one looking green. "Nobody will remember this when you're at an age to date."

Ertan's eyes twitch uncoordinatedly. Is he trying to twinkle? Good for him.

The Girl in Love

"Riddle," says Harper Gamp, as always flanked by Max and Tripe. "I've heard Malfoy babble to Avery," she says with a smirk, pleased with herself. "I want in in your little study group!"

Ah, girls in love…

"Harper," he says, "I don't have time for romance – I have a strict schedule of objective achievement. I need to learn the freezing spell before Wednesday."

Harper blanches.

"But that's a third-year spell!"

Well yes, it is. She at least knows the curriculum. He'd award her a couple points, if he were a prefect already.

"Very good," he praises her.

She flushes red again. Really, she's so obvious.

"Will you teach it to the boys?" she asks. "In your study club?"

Teach it? Well, why not? Harper has good ideas. Two more points.

"Sure."

"Then I'm coming," she says, fierce. "Whether you like it or not."

My, modern women are so aggressive. It seems Mrs Cole was right, for once.

The New Member

"Tom," Abraxas says, leaning against a chair in despair, "isn't this enough?"

Abraxas' fire-dwelling salamander scurries away from its bowl and falls onto his bed, setting the pillow on fire.

Tom raises a brow that speaks for itself. Abraxas flushes.

"It's a third-year spell!" he complains. Such a spoilt boy, really.

Harper waves her wand and a wave of icy-cold air extinguishes the fire, and cools down Abraxas' salamander. She looks smugly pleased with herself.

"Two more points, Harper," Tom says, impressed.

If she's that good, then he'll allow her to stay. As long as her love doesn't hinder their progress, of course.

"Stop awarding me points! You're not a Prefect," she reminds him.

Yet.

"You could all learn from Harper," he says to his boys.

None of them look too pleased about having a girl in their room. Maybe because Harper's felt the need to call them out on their disorganized trunks and their messy beds. Honestly, Tom rather agrees with her.

"Yes, Perfect Harper," Thoros says, looking grumpy. He's not used to someone else being best after Tom. "Now you can cling to your second spot in class, you must be happy," he tells her.

Harper sniffs, disdainful.

"Speak less and try harder, Nott – Not all of us are thus talented."

Thoros narrows his eyes.

"Yes, not all of us can be Tom."

Really, Tom thinks while feeling flattered, his friends look up to him so much.

"Indeed," she agrees, flushing again. "You must think so every time you look at the mirror."

Tom leans back on his chair, smug. Goodness, is this a flattery contest?

Then, inexplicably, Thoros and Harper pull out their wands and start throwing spells at each other. How odd – they were agreeing in absolutely everything. Thankfully, the worst they can do is freeze each other's body parts, and therefore the duel ends up rather quickly.

"Well, at least you learnt the charm well," Tom says as he unfreezes them. "Five points to each."

Harper screeches.

The greedy girl, must have wanted ten.