Introductory Remarks: Hey! I'm back! I spent a nice week in my grandmother's hometown, which is situated at the foot of an active volcano (it erupts every few years). I came home with a couple of secondhand books, some local delicacies for the people at the office and a piebald back (a.k.a. a very uneven sunburn). But enough about me, on with the story!

Disclaimer: I own Hex, Maeve, Peter, and Norman. Maggie McGonagall, the Healer's Garden, Robert Padgett, Peggy Abbott, Wirtleweeds and Zippo the Fluffernutter are also mine. (And so is the cap hanging on the tree near Madam Hooch's practice field, but Hex can keep it.) The rest of the grounds, equipment and personnel belong to JK Rowling, except for the names "Coca-Cola" and "Coke," which belong to the Coca-Cola Company. (I love citing all my sources! :D)

Additional Technical Notes: I have no idea if there is such a place called Hereford, and I also don't know whether they serve cold cereal at Hogwarts. All apologies to natives of Britain and the Hogwarts lunch lady.

Traveling by Air

The first-year Hufflepuffs were filing off the practice field when Hex finally landed.

Madam Hooch nodded approvingly at him while still keeping an eagle eye on the first years. "Are you sure you're not part bird, boy?"

"All human, as far as I know, ma'am," Hex replied, grinning broadly. He'd taken to the air like he had been born there. He was still a little nervous, especially after a couple of the others had fallen off their broomsticks, but the rush was greater than the fear.

"You move well."

"Thank you." He gave the still-bright sky a longing look.

The gray-haired witch smiled. "I won't be needing that broomstick until tomorrow, Holmstrom. Why don't you take a few more turns while before it gets dark?"

Hex grinned. "Love ya, Madam Hooch." And he pushed off and was gone.

He took a few easy laps around the practice field, then tried zooming around on the broomstick, but it was an old one and not very fast. Nevertheless, it was still cool to fly around on a broomstick. Idly, Hex wondered if he could put a spell on a vacuum cleaner, so he could fly around on it when he came back to Brooklyn for the summer.

"Hi, Hex!"

Pulling to a stop, Hex looked over his shoulder to see Maeve coming up behind him on a broomstick that looked a lot better than the one he was on. Peter was nowhere in sight.

Hex grinned at her. "Hi, Maeve. This is quite a rush, huh?"

She hovered in midair beside him, cheeks flushed prettily. "Is this your first time on a broom?"

"Yeah."

"You move well for a first-timer. Will you try out for the quidditch team?"

"I haven't decided yet." He chuckled. "Maybe if I knew what quidditch was, I could make a decision."

Maeve giggled. "Come with me."

Hex followed her to a bigger field lined with bleachers and with three tall posts set in each end. She explained (swooping around on her broomstick when she wanted to make a point) that quidditch was a sport played by two teams with seven players on each side. A Keeper protected his team's goalposts, while three Chasers tried to score ten points by shooting a red ball (a Quaffle) through the hoops at the top of the posts. Two Beaters, armed with short clubs, tried to protect their Chasers by sending the black Bludgers to hit the opposing team. Finally, a Seeker could score one hundred and fifty points (and usually win the match for his team) by catching the Golden Snitch.

"So how about it?" she asked when she was done with her lecture, coming again to stop beside him. "Will you try out for the team?"

"Uh, yeah, if you want me to. I mean, it wouldn't hurt to try."

"Wonderful." Maeve smiled, pleased.

"So…Peter said you play for the team."

She shrugged. "All the Houses have teams and I was the reserve Seeker for Hufflepuff. The starting Seeker, Cedric Diggory — well, he died last year."

"Ouch. I'm sorry to hear that." Hex cringed. "I mean, I'm glad you'll get to play now, but he didn't have to die so you could take his place…"

Maeve smiled rather wistfully. "Cedric was good. He actually got to beat Gryffindor once. I think I'm a pretty fair Seeker myself, but sometimes I wonder…"

"I'm sure you'll do great. You fly real well." He cleared his throat. "Not that I can tell, but…you look good flying. I mean—" Hex shook his head impatiently and changed the subject. "So, did your dad teach you to play quidditch?"

She shook her dark head. "I never knew my father."

"Neither did I."

Hex had no idea where Hereford was, but Professor McGonagall explained that he could get there through something called a Portkey, which would magically transport him to her sister's shop. The Portkey was a ratty old cap hanging on a tree branch near the practice field where Madam Hooch conducted her flying lessons.

When Hex took hold of the Portkey that Saturday morning after breakfast, he was jerked forward into a dizzying blur of color. The next thing he knew, he was standing in the middle of a dim room, trying to still his reeling head.

"On time, I see." A female voice said. "Good, good."

Maggie McGonagall strode forward, and as the single light bulb illuminated more of her, Hex was surprised to see how little she resembled her sister. Both were tall, but while Professor McGonagall was thin, her sister was plump; and instead of the Professor's tight black bun, Maggie's hair tumbled to her waist in wild red waves.

Also, unlike her sister, Maggie was given to smiling. "Good morning, young man! Holmstrom, is it?" she inquired with a blinding, dimpled grin. "Welcome! I'm Maggie McGonagall, you may just call me Maggie, and I shall call you Hex. Have you eaten your breakfast?"

"Er, yes, ma'am," he stammered.

"There shan't be any of that 'ma'am' stuff around here," Maggie said firmly. "Didn't I just tell you to call me Maggie? Now come along, my lad, and I shall show you around."

The Healer's Garden was located on a busy street, with Muggles rushing back and forth, doing their shopping in the early morning daylight. Quite a few came in to look at and buy some of the herbal soaps, shampoos, teas and lotions Maggie offered for sale. Hex's job was to sweep up, make sure the displays were in order, get their lunch from a nearby pub and sometimes help with the customers. "How are you with numbers?" she demanded once she gave him his job description.

"Uh, fine," he managed to say. Math wasn't his best subject, but it wasn't his worst, either.

"Good! Now, you may begin by tidying up the back room. No magic!" she reminded him.

Hex found out that both the McGonagall sisters were harsh taskmasters. By lunchtime, he had cleared the back room, scoured the cauldrons Maggie used to prepare her wares, dusted all the shelves and balanced the books. He was dusty, sore and tired, but happy from his first drink of Coca-Cola in ages. "I have missed this stuff."

Maggie laughed. "One thing the magical world does not have is Coke. Slowly, my lad, or you'll get a stomachache. How was your first week at Hogwarts?"

"Fine."

"Minerva says you are in Hufflepuff House. Have you made any friends?"

He nodded. "Most of them think I'm weird, but I've got some people to hang around with."

"What classes are you taking?"

"Charms, Transfiguration, Herbology, History of Magic, Astronomy, Potions, Defense Against the Dark Arts, Care of Magical Creatures and Arithmancy."

"Who is the Defense Against the Dark Arts master this year?"

Hex tried hard not to sound disgusted. "Snape." (A/N: Since DADA isn't much of an issue in this fic, I decided to grant Snape's wish and make him DADA Professor.)

"Snape! Well!" Maggie took a thoughtful sip of Coke. "He finally got his wish. How is he?"

He shrugged. "OK, I guess. He's teaching us about curses and how to block them. He's having a lot of fun cursing me." At their first lesson, Snape cursed Hex in several ways, and the boy left class with a sooty face, rubbery legs and a body covered in purple fur. Hermione had to give him a practical lesson on how to undo all the curses, and Malfoy had taunted him for the rest of the week. "He hates me."

"Snape hates everyone, my lad. He was always that way, even when we were in school."

"Believe me, you'd hate him more if he was your teacher."

Hermione was already in the library when Hex arrived after his first day at work. "Hi," he said, slipping into the free chair next to her. "I haven't kept you waiting, have I?" Right before he left, Maggie gave him a sealed envelope to give to Dumbledore. After dropping it off, Hex lost his way and needed directions from five different portraits before he found the library.

She looked up from her Arithmancy text and smiled at him. "Oh, no. I was just doing a little extra credit to pass the time."

There was a whole sheaf of pages covered with equations on the table in front of her. "A little extra credit. I see. So, um, we were doing Charms, right?"

Before Hermione could answer, there was a familiar chorus of giggles. Sitting at a nearby table were a gaggle of girls including Parvati and Lavender, all trying to catch a glimpse of Hex. The group had been growing all week, much to the annoyance of Hermione and Madam Pince, the severe Hogwarts librarian and lover of silence and order.

Hex kicked himself at the disgruntled look on Hermione's face. "I really shouldn't have said anything about you helping me with lessons."

"I suppose you couldn't help yourself," she said in a clipped voice.

"Is something wrong?" he asked her quietly. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see his stalkers lean as close as discreetly possible, trying to eavesdrop on their conversation. "We don't have to do this anymore if it's taking too much of your time."

"I'm sorry," Hermione told him in a softer tone. "I've just had a bad day."

"Well, like I said, if you want to take a break, we can do this again some other time."

"No, today is fine." She managed a smile. "I don't want to stay in here, though, not with them around." Hermione indicated the girls at the next table.

"Oh, well, why don't we go out to the field? So I can practice some spells or something?"

Hex's fans giggled even louder as they left the library, earning a loud shush from Madam Pince.

"I'd say you're coming along quite well," Hermione said happily the next afternoon. They were out in the field again and she had just taught him how to perform a Cheering Charm.

"Are you sure that's not the charm talking?" Hex asked, grinning.

"If it is, it worked, didn't it?" They laughed. "That should be all for today."

"Yeah. I've got some homework to do." He felt something long and thin in his pocket. "Hey, you want one of these?" Hex held out one of the ballpoint pens that Maggie had given him that day. "I have some extra."

She smiled and took it. "Thank you. Quills can get tiresome, can't they?"

"You're telling me. I haven't learned how to use a quill without getting more ink on my fingers than in the pen."

Hermione laughed just as a tall figure appeared in the dimming daylight. "Are you quite done?"

It was Ron, and he sounded annoyed. Hex wondered if the giggling figures behind him had anything to do with it. "Hey, Ron…Parvati, Lavender."

"It's getting dark," Ron said shortly, not bothering to return the other boy's greeting. "McGonagall sent me to find you. You've got your own work to do, you know."

"We were just finishing for the day," Hermione replied, still smiling from the Cheering Charm. "I'll see you tomorrow, Hex. Thank you for the pen."

"You're welcome. Want one, Ron?"

"No, thank you," Ron replied, turning to herd the three girls back to the Hogwarts castle. "You'd better watch those Muggle things of yours. If you're putting spells on them, I'll have to report you to my dad."

What's up with that guy? Hex wondered as he made his own way to the castle. He shrugged, finally deciding Ron probably just had a bad day. Or a headache — Parvati and Lavender could giggle you into one in no time.

Hex got up with the rest of his dormitory that Monday morning. "Looks like I'm getting used to getting up with the birds now," he noted to no one in particular.

"Congratulations," Peter yawned, pushing his brown hair out of his eyes.

Ernie MacMillan, one of the other occupants of the dormitory, watched Hex bound out of bed wearing little more than boxer shorts and socks. "Aren't you cold?"

He, Justin Finch-Fletchley and Robert Padgett were all giving him the "you're-weird" look again. Many things, including his strange speech and pierced eyebrow, had earned Hex this look many times already. "Begging your pardon, old boy, but my smoking jacket's in the wash," Hex told him in a bad imitation of Justin's upper-crust accent, picking his pants up off the floor and stepping into them.

That got him another you're-weird look.

Peter chuckled and finally got out of bed. "You're mental."

"That's for sure," Hex heard Robert mutter.

Justin, Ernie and Robert were much friendlier as they greeted Maeve, who was waiting for her friends in the common room. She smiled at the boys, then turned her luminous eyes to Hex and Peter. "Look, quidditch trials are on this week." She pointed to a notice pinned to the wall beside the entrance. "Are you still going out for quidditch, Hex?"

Hex smiled. "I promised, didn't I? What about you, Pete? Are you trying out for quidditch?"

The big boy shook his head. "I'm not very interested in quidditch."

"Aw, why not? With your size, you should be good at it. I mean, I'm no expert, but—"

"I'm just not, that's all," Peter said in a firm but still pleasant tone.

"OK, whatever you say, man," Hex said quickly. He now knew for a fact that his friend wouldn't hurt a fly, but it was another fact that the other boy was even bigger than his last foster father was.

Maeve smiled up at him as the Hufflepuffs made their way to breakfast. "We must practice this week, Hex. I want you on that team!"

Behind Peter's broad back, Hex reddened and nodded. "I'm sure I can get a little less tutoring this week. Hermione said I'm almost all caught up. How about this afternoon, after classes?"

"Why are you whispering?"

Breakfast that morning included cold cereal and milk. "Hey, look!" Hex chortled, shaking round, golden-brown pellets, smelling of sugar and cinnamon, into a bowl. "Hufflepuffs!"

"Do they really call them 'Hufflepuffs'?" Peter asked, peering at the cereal. All around them, other wizard-born students were eyeing it with similar confusion.

"No," the other boy laughed, adding milk to his bowl. "Accio banana!—Oh, crap," he said, wiping milk from his face and fishing the banana out of his cereal. "It's just that there's a lot of stuff like this for kids in the Muggle world, and they all have cutesy little names."

"Hufflepuff House is a distinguished house with a noble history!" Peggy Abbott, a rather pompous seventh-year who happened to be within earshot, protested shrilly. "I should report you for desecrating the house name that way!"

"Loosen up," Hex told her, slicing the peeled banana into his cereal. The girl sniffed in disgust and turned back to her own food.

"Desecrate the name of Hufflepuff?" Malfoy drawled from behind Hex. Crabbe and Goyle were with him; and, judging from the number of Hufflepuffs wearing their cereal, it had been a busy morning. "Don't all you plonkers do that just by being alive?"

"And a jolly good morning to you, too, sweetheart," Hex said through gritted teeth.

The pale boy ignored him, focusing instead on Maeve and the bowl of cereal and bananas in front of her. "Maeve, you aren't going to eat that Muggle garbage, are you? Why not have some nice, normal bacon and eggs instead?"

"After my cereal," Maeve told him, her spoon gripped defiantly in one small fist.

"But then, my dear, you'll get fat. And you have been looking rather hefty lately."

"Oh, shut up, you mother…bleeper," Hex snapped at Malfoy, managing at the last minute to curb his potty mouth. "She looks just fine the way she is."

The Slytherin looked down his aristocratic nose at him. "I believe I have known Maeve longer than you have, Yank Mudblood."

"Yeah, well, Pete and I know her better, Ferret-face," he said acidly.

Malfoy glared at him, then gave Crabbe the slightest of nods.

Hex, however, was ready this time; and before Crabbe could upset his cereal bowl, the other boy had moved it out of range. "Missed me, missed me, now you've got to kiss me," he taunted.

Crabbe grunted angrily, and went for Maeve's bowl.

Fortunately, Peter had seen that coming and hauled Maeve out of harm's way. Her cereal ended up on the bench and all over the floor, instead of in her lap.

Even more fortunately, Professor McGonagall was passing by and saw everything. "Littering! Ten points from Slytherin!" she snapped, cleaning the mess up with her wand at the same time.

They heard Malfoy scold his companion as they slunk back to the Slytherin table. "Never go after her, you dolt!"

"It served them right," Harry said later that morning in Herbology. Even Ron, who had been a bit unfriendly as of late, smiled at the news of Malfoy's morning. "It's about time someone caught them at it. They've been spilling food on people for years."

"And no one's ever tried to stop them?" Hex asked over the Wirtleweeds they were pruning.

"No one's succeeded," Hermione said. "The last one to try got a black eye and detention for a week," she added, looking sideways at Ron.

"At least I tried," the redheaded boy said shortly, snapping a dead leaf off his Wirtleweed. "Some people just sat back and tried to make a fashion statement."

"Snape was the one who found us! I couldn't very well fight back with him around, could I? Besides, fighting is against the rules."

Peter looked uneasily at the pair, cleared his throat and changed the subject. "So, quidditch trials are on this week."

Maeve nodded as she plucked off some wilted Wirtleweed flowers. "Any idea who might be the new Gryffindor Keeper, Harry?"

Harry smiled. "Now, why should I be telling you?"

"Because I asked," she replied innocently.

"Come on, now, Maeve, you'll find out along with all the other Houses at our first match." The other boy turned his green gaze to Hex. "Will you be going out for quidditch this year, Hex?"

"Now, Harry, why should he be telling you?" Maeve said crisply before Hex could answer.

Ron laughed loudly. "That's telling him, Maeve."

Hermione glared at him.

"It looks like you are, then," Harry observed with a smile, pushing his sweaty hair off his forehead.

"Well, I'm only going to try out," Hex said. "It sounds like fun—hey, what's that on your head?" On Harry's forehead was a thin scar shaped like a bolt of lightning. "That is one mother of a scar, man. I've got one, too — look at this —"

Hermione gaped as Hex pulled back one sleeve to show the jagged scar that ran up his forearm. Almost all the people at his table looked at him as if he were insane. "What?" he asked. "I fell on some broken glass when I was a kid. It wasn't life-threatening or anything."

Harry smiled, amused. "Cool. It's nice to know I'm not the only person with a scar in the world."

After a nice mid-afternoon nap — otherwise known as Professor Binns' History of Magic class — the rested and refreshed fifth year Hufflepuffs made their way to Hagrid's hut for a double Care of Magical Creatures lesson with the Ravenclaws. They were presently learning to care for baby Fluffernutters, little balls of white fur with fluffy tails. These creatures would grow up to resemble white saber-tooth tigers, but as babies they were so delicate that very few survived infancy. Two had already died and they were barely two months into the term.

Fortunately for Peter, Maeve and Hex, Zippo, their baby Fluffernutter, was holding on. "How's the little critter doin'?" Hagrid asked as they fed Zippo with a sponge soaked in milk.

"Surviving," Peter replied, beaming.

"Looks like a strong 'un," the huge man said, nodding his approval. "I think he'll be one of the few to make it. Yeh have a way wi' animals, Peter."

Peter grinned proudly. "Thank you." Thanks to his knack with animals, they could pass the lesson with full marks.

"An' how are yeh, son?" Hagrid then asked Hex. "Catchin' up?"

"Yeah."

"I heard Hermione Granger's helpin' yeh."

"Yeah."

"Good. Yeh should get caught up in no time."

"He's practically even with us already," Maeve said, smiling.

Hagrid nodded approvingly. "Good ter hear it. Yer friend Tiny should also be glad ter know yer doin' well here in Hogwarts."

"Could I send him an owl?" Hex asked. "Can an owl fly all the way to Brooklyn?"

"I'll try an' find one for yeh. Be sure ter tell him yer big with the lasses," Hagrid added slyly, just as Padma Patil walked by with a smile for Hex. He chuckled as Hex blushed. "I'm jus' teasin' yeh, son. Back to work, now."

Maeve turned back to Zippo just as Padma stepped right into a mud puddle that hadn't been there before. "He's such a sweet baby," she cooed, oblivious to Padma's shrieks of dismay.

That afternoon, Hex met Maeve on the quidditch pitch so he could practice for the tryouts. She smiled, took the school broomstick Madam Hooch had lent him, and held out her Nimbus Two Thousand. It made the one he borrowed look like a pile of dirt. "I couldn't."

"Go on." She thrust the Nimbus into his arms and mounted the school broom. "How will I know if you're any good if you aren't riding a proper broomstick?" she called down to him as she rose several feet in the air. "Come on up!"

Shaking his head, Hex mounted the broomstick and followed her.

Maeve was carrying a red ball she had taken from a crate on the ground. "This is the Quaffle," she said, throwing it to him. "Why don't you try to shoot it through the hoops?"

"OK." He managed to score a few times even as she tried to block his shots.

"That was very good," she praised when they were back on the ground and the Quaffle was back in the crate.

"Well, you were on the old broomstick," Hex said modestly.

"Perhaps." Maeve then handed him a short club. "Now, are you ready for a Bludger?"

"Why do I have to be ready for a—holy shit!!!" Hex ducked as a black bowling ball rocketed toward him. He jumped out of the way, but it ricocheted off a nearby goalpost and hurtled toward Maeve. "Watch out!"

He positioned himself in front of her and whaled at the Bludger with his club, sending it clear through the goal post on the other end of the field. "How do you stop this thing?" he panted as the ball made a U-turn and went for them yet again.

"We have to put it back in the box," she said, watching as the Bludger drew nearer.

"Oh, boy." Hex wrapped his arms around the ball as it rushed past him and wrestled it back down to the ground even as it struggled to free itself. "OW! Open the box, quick!"

Maeve helped him strap the Bludger back into the box and rewarded him with a sunny smile. "I believe you could make a very good Beater."

He rubbed his arms and glared at the ball straining against its bonds. "That thing nearly broke you in half!"

"Nonsense," she said blithely. "Now, do you care to see the Golden Snitch?"

"If it's anything like that Bludger, forget it."

She laughed, a silvery, bell-like sound. "It's too small to hurt you, unless you choke on it." She took a tiny golden ball out of the crate. It lay in her small palm for a while before spreading silvery wings and flying out of sight. "That was the Golden Snitch."

"And you have to look for that?" Hex squinted into the skies for a flash of gold.

"Yes. Would you like to try?"

"I would, but I can't see it."

"It's right over there." Riding the school broomstick, she flew toward the Snitch. She would have caught it, too, if someone riding by hadn't taken it first.

"Well, well, well." The lazy drawl grated on Hex's nerves like a thousand nails scratching down a chalkboard. "Is he supposed to be Hufflepuff's secret weapon, Maeve, or is this a date?"

"Get lost, Malfoy," Hex snapped as he flew up to join them.

Malfoy eyed the Nimbus Two Thousand derisively. "My goodness, Maeve, are you lending this Yank Mudblood your broomstick? Couldn't you find a boyfriend with his own?"

The other boy arched his pierced eyebrow at Malfoy's Nimbus Two Thousand and One. "Maybe some of us are OK with using a school broomstick because we aren't lacking in other areas."

Malfoy flushed pink. "It looks like I still haven't taken care of that mouth of yours."

"Looks like it," he replied flippantly.

"No good will come to people like you," Malfoy said darkly. "A Yank, a Mudblood, an insolent—"

"Draco, will you shut up for a moment and give me the Snitch?" Maeve asked. A tart note had crept into her voice. "I need to put it back in the crate with the others."

The pale boy frowned slightly at her. "You are starting to sound like this Mudblood, Maeve. It isn't becoming of a lady."

She held out a hand, her face impassive. "Give me the Snitch."

Malfoy smiled maliciously and did as she asked, using it as an excuse to stroke her hand. "The only way you will catch the Snitch, my dear, is if someone handed it to you."

"Drop dead, Ferret-face," Hex snarled as the other boy finally went away, his cold laughter trailing after him. "Moron," he muttered, landing on the grass beside Maeve. "Are you OK?"

Head still bent over the box, she nodded.

"Don't pay any attention to him, Maeve." He patted her shoulder awkwardly. "He's a jerk."

"I know," she said softly.

"What is it with you and him, anyway? He acts like he owns you."

Maeve shut the crate and smiled bravely up at him. "He doesn't own me. I suppose he just thinks he does because we grew up together. My mother…well, I don't know how she knew the Malfoys; but, before she died, she asked Lucius Malfoy to raise me."

"So you're like a foster kid."

"I am Lucius Malfoy's ward, yes." They heard a rough purr as Norman appeared and began to weave about their ankles. She bent down and scooped up the cat, scratching him behind his single ear.

"D'you remember your mother?"

She shook her head. "She died when I was born. All I have of her is the name she gave me."

Hex looked closely at her. "I hope the Malfoys are treating you right." If they weren't, he was going to beat the crap out of Ferret-face and report his family to Wizard Social Services — there had to be such a thing, right?

"In all fairness, I grew up in Malfoy Manor with the same privileges as Draco did. But I am nothing like them," she added in a hard voice.

He supposed that was why most of the people in Hufflepuff House didn't even want to sit next to her. Hex had heard people talking and somehow the Malfoys were always being linked to that Voldemort guy. He put an arm around Maeve's shoulders and squeezed. "I never said you were."

Concluding Remarks: Whoopee! Sentimental moment! :D Yeah, I know that Maeve's relationship with the Malfoys somehow makes her a Mary Sue, but believe me, she's going to try and fight that tendency all through this fic! Up next: a bit of idiocy involving pumpkins and Hex goes into business. In the meantime, please read and review! ~ Ara Kane