Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters- obviously! Suing me will only get you a moth-eaten closet of clothes.

Author's Note: Very, very pre-Buffy! Rupert Giles is young (about 15 or 16) and already rebelling when he attends a 'special' school for those like him (aha!) and meets someone who is due to become very familiar to the rest of his life- take a wild guess as to who it is!

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"And so here I am," Rupert Giles said distastefully, looking around the carriage he was slouched in, "And I suppose I'll have to stay put until they allow me out."

The slightly shorter, thinner youth sitting opposite him was slouched in much the same way, lounging bonelessly in a manner that not even the young Watcher-in-Training could hope to cultivate, should he ever decide to want to.

"Could be worse," Ethan Rayne commented, "Could be prison. Went there once; didn't like it."

Giles cast a professional eye over him and grinned meaningfully. "I'll bet you didn't!"

Ethan grinned back but adopted his snootiest tone of voice. Oh, his socialite mother would have been proud. "And what, may I ask, am I to infer from that?"

"That you're a sodding pansy and far too upper class to park your arse on some damp prison floor," Giles shot out. He did think this new acquaintance had some sense of humor- something lacking in the rest of his previous classmates- but he wasn't quite sure how far he could take it before Rayne screamed insult.

He needn't have bothered. Rayne gave a short wriggle that managed to somehow look sensuous and playful all at the same time and sighed, "Right on both counts, m'dear. How frightfully clever of you!"

Rupert couldn't help giving a small grin at that laviscious wink. "So, why are *you* here?" he asked. "Don't think I've met you before."

"Love, if you had seen me out there in the real world, you would have remembered me. No, I was invited by a rather enterprising owl." Giles looked confused. "Ah, I see you don't know, then! Well, if you are deemed magically intelligent, the school sends out an invitation to join. As most of this community's post is comprised of a few droopy-cheeked, flu-powder- wielding special postmen and owls, generally you get an owl. Unless you're a muggle, in which case there are other ways. I got an owl anyway and here I am; a Hogwarts' man for life."

Giles' eyes widened slightly with this influx of scrambled information. "For the magically inclined, huh? Well, I guess that's why I'm being sent here. Though more because I get the feeling they want me to control it. I blew up the kitchen last time I was home."

Ethan let out a shout of laughter. "How the bloody hell did you manage that?"

Rupert shrugged with studied indifference but a sheepish look in his eyes. "Our cook was bugging me; I thought I'd teach her a lesson. So I mixed a blaster potion and tossed the damn thing right in. Just my luck, it landed near the stove!"

"Did you incinerate the bitch?" Ethan chortled, sitting up and leaning forward, dark eyes sparkling. "Oh, please tell me you did!"

"No, dimwit! 'O course not! Man, I would have really been kicked for that. Got strapped as it was," Rupert grimaced.

Ethan stilled, face curious. "Your parents strap you? Huh! Tough love, I guess."

Rupert's green eyes hardened, his jaw tightening until it was one stark line, "My parents haven't laid a finger on me. They're dead. This was a guardian."

Ethan shrugged and sat back again, re-draping himself in the uncomfortable seat. He didn't bother to apologize; he never did. To his mind, if he needed to apologize, he had to feel sorry for it. And Ethan Rayne figured that to learn you had to ask questions. So if he now knew enough to stay off the topic, what was there to be sorry about?

The sudden bustle in the corridor caught their attention after a half-an- hour silence. Rupert stiffened as if readying himself for a fight, his senses still not fully wakened from his brief doze. Ethan grabbed his knee and shook his head. "We're almost there," the youth informed his new acquaintance, "We need to get all togged up; robes and stuff, you know. Come on! Move your arse."

"A'right, a'right; I'm coming," Rupert yawned, "Geez, God! Remind me never to take long train journeys after a late night."

"Oh, had a party, did you?" Ethan asked good naturedly, "And what, may I ask, is your idea of a late night?"

"Never getting to bed?" Rupert murmured innocently, green eyes glinting evilly even as he opened them wide in youthful enquiry.

Ethan chuckled and turned away to get his bags ready. He politely told his companion to leave all 'his shit' on the train and just worry about himself. But he could have saved his breath; if there was one thing this Rupert Giles seemed good at, it was curling his lip at those insignificant insects who dared to get in his way. Ethan very sweetly let him go first and then followed gaily in his wake.

"First Years this way," a voice was yelling. "First years- oh, come off it, Derek Ingles; get out of the way- First years *here*!"

"Uh, that's Spartan," Ethan explained, pushing him to follow a gaggle of excited girls who looked about their age. "Follow the Twittering Threesome, love; they won't steer you wrong."

"Spartan? Like 'Greeks and'?" Rupert asked, raising an eyebrow.

"No," Ethan smirked, "Spartan, like 'Mr.'. He's our groundskeeper. We were supposed to get a fellow named Hagrid, big giant of a bloke. Got expelled two years ago if I remember rightly, but very nice. Always watched out for us little children."

"He sounds delightful," Rupert commented dryly, looking back in front to avoid stepping on anyone's pet toad.

"And who have we here?" The soft, silky voice belonged to the leader of the little gang that blocked Rupert's way. The new boy drew himself up to his full height and raised a cold eyebrow. The small disdainful twitch from the blond-headed opposition was his only answer.

"Oh shit," Ethan sighed.

Rupert maneuvered himself into a position where he could glance quickly back at Ethan without taking his eyes off his problem for more than a second. His new friend and acquaintance seemed to be almost dangling from the grip on the front of his robes by a guy who looked like a prizefighter. "Let him down now and I won't break your wrist," Rupert said quietly.

"I see you have courage for someone so very- new," the leader said. Somehow he managed to make it sound like an insult. "Lucius Malfoy, by the way; just thought I'd introduce myself so that you'll know to avoid me. I can make life very unpleasant for you, should you fail to do so."

"You know, I had a chemistry professor like you last year," Rupert commented, "I didn't like him."

"I really don't care about the particulars of your boring life," Lucius interrupted, gray eyes flashing, "I've given you warning. Rayne, see that the new boy keeps my rules, hmmm?"

Lucius walked off with his group, the prizefighter getting in one good punch to Ethan's stomach before following them. Rupert helped his now sputtering friend to stand up again but stared after Malfoy with a thoughtful look on his face.

"Yes, thank you, dearest, I'm fine," Ethan griped sarcastically, "I'm dying of internal hemorrhaging and you're watching the movement of Malfoy's arse?"

Rupert Giles grinned suddenly, a wicked look on his face. "What precisely are you like in school?" Ethan looked uncertain as to what was being asked of him. "I meant, are you a good little boy who lives by the rules?" Ethan just looked amused as he shook his head. "Good! I believe we'll get along fine, then!"