Chapter One: The Arrival of a New Student

The train normally ran twice a year. Once before first term began to transport students to the school, and once at the end of the term to bring them back home. But now it was making an extra trip. It carried one student only, and she sat quietly in a passenger cart on her own, hands folded on her lap as she stared blankly out the window. Her bags sat beside her. She'd brought only her old school supplies—wand, beakers, textbooks, old notes that often came in handy…things of that sort—and a few sets of clothes. Her old school, an American school, had shut down after going bankrupt. Her parents had insisted she'd continued learning the trade until her seven required years were completed and she had graduated. Devon had gone without a struggle, but she couldn't help feeling it was a bad idea.

She wasn't nervous about the school itself. Hogwarts had an excellent reputation, especially after graduating star pupil Harry Potter, and the teaching staff was held in high regards. It was the students themselves that worried her. How would they react to her? An American? She slouched back in the chair and her forehead wrinkled with anticipation. So far no one in England had seemed too eager to allow an American into their country.

It was not a good way to begin the year.

Upon arriving at the school, Devon was escorted by a tall, gaunt professor to the headmaster's office where she was quickly sorted into her respective house—Gryffindor. There was no need for pomp and circumstance in her getting sorted. The year had already begun. To draw so much attention to the sorting of a transfer student was ridiculous and unnecessary.

Devon was given a schedule and was sent off to her first class right away. Her bags would be taken to her room for her.

She glanced over her schedule and read Spells and Incantations. Alright. Not her favorite class, but she'd always managed to do just fine in all her classes. With a tiny map of the building in hand she navigated her way through the building and eventually made her way to the Incantations room. She stepped quietly through the door, entering into the back of the room. Moving past staring eyes, Devon made her way to the front and handed the professor a note that had come from the gaunt woman, explaining that Devon was a transfer student.

"Take a seat wherever you find space," the professor muttered, and turned back to the lesson.

Devon swallowed and turned to face the class. Her eyes searched for an empty seat and her face grew red. She hated the spotlight, and even more so, she hated being put under the microscope like this.

There! An empty seat! The dark-haired boy currently occupying the desk had his head down, resting on a stack of books. Devon sat down beside him and placed her single textbook and notebook on the table.

Class dragged through painfully, with a dull lecture from the professor. No one really listened except for a few Ravenclaws who were quite sure that ever word their professor uttered would make it to the final exam.

At one point the professor called out for all students to pull out their wands in order to perform a spell. Devon felt a squeeze of discomfort in her stomach. Very slowly, she raised a shaky hand.

"Yes?"

"I…I don't have a wand…sir…"

A few heads turned. Everyone took note of her American accent, and made their own individual judgments on it. The boy beside her, however, didn't move a muscle. He must have been fast asleep.

"You haven't got a wand?"

"No. No, sir."

"Well, what's the matter, child? Didn't you get a list of supplies?"

"I…I did, I just…when it arrived…the ink, it had been very badly ruined, it must have run into some bad weather and…well, I just figured I might be able to get by with the same supplies that had been required before…"

Some snickered. A few made whispered remarks.

"And you had no wand in this…American school of yours?"

"No, sir."

The professor rolled his eyes and muttered to himself, "Backwards. You're all totally backwards." Then to Devon, "Well, what did you use in your old school?"

"Our hands, sir."

"Then you'll just have to make the best of your bloody hands until we can get you sorted out." He was about to go back to his lesson before turning back to Devon and waving a pointing finger wildly. "That boy, who is that boy beside you?"

"I…I don't know…I just got here, sir."

"Well, wake him up! Can't have students sleeping their way through an education."

Devon gently touched a finger to the boy's shoulder. Then a bit harder. Finally, she did away with the polite gentleness and gave him a firm shove. He stirred briefly and sleepily sat up. Devon was almost enchanted by what she saw. A beautiful Victorian face, surrounded by a mass of shining brown curls, complete with gray-blue eyes and rosy cheeks. It was like he'd stepped out of a painting.

He turned to see who'd woken him up, made a quiet note of this new seating arrangement, then took out his wand, and followed along with the rest of the class as if he'd been doing so all along.

After class, Devon escaped from the room as fast as her legs would take her.

"Hey!" a voice called after her.

Devon kept walking, assuming this was not meant for her.

But then a boy ran up beside her, the boy from class, and she turned to see what was so very important he had to say to her.

"Hey," he said again. His voice was gentle and husky. "I just…I just wanted to apologize. For class today. Sorry."

Devon grinned and shrugged. "What are you apologizing for?"

"Being such a bother. Falling asleep and all. I, um…didn't get much sleep last night. I was up studying for a test in Divinations. Which I've got next period."

Devon couldn't help but grin at the awkward way he strung his sentences together. It was as if he'd never spoken to another human being in his life.

"S'alright," she told him. "I'm Devon."

"You're American," he pointed out. "What are you doing in Hogwarts? They do have wizardry schools in America, don't they?"

"Yeah, but it went bankrupt and shut down so…I got transferred here."

"Oh. Rotten luck…about the school. Not about…Hogwarts. The transfer, I mean."

Devon smiled, once again delighted by his awkwardness.

"I'm Chance." He smiled shyly and looked down, suddenly embarrassed. "I'm sorry, I'm talking too much, I…I'm really tired. I'm normally not this much of a bother."

"Oh, no, really, it's fine!" Devon smiled. "I'm really glad you introduced yourself. I mean…now I know someone! God, you have no idea how much this has improved my day."

A tiny light of pride went off in his face and the shy smile squirmed on his mouth.

"I guess I won't be seeing you till dinner then," Devon said.

Chance shrugged. "What house are you in?"

"Um…G…G-something."

"Gryffindor?"

"Yeah, that one."

"Oh, well, I'm in Ravenclaw. So I probably won't be seeing you till class again. Tomorrow."

"What, can't we eat at each other's tables? Are we even in the same room?"

"Of course, the same room," Chance smiled. "But I've never seen houses mixing with houses at meals. I imagine you could do it once or twice and get away with it, but…well, I don't know. I never thought about it."

"Don't you have friends outside your house?"

Chance looked down at his feet and his face grew pink with a delicate blush. "I don't really have friends at all. So, um…that's not really a problem for me. Sitting with people. Or not. Sitting with them."

"Oh…sorry. How long have you been going here, anyways?"

"Since I was eleven. Like everyone else."

Devon smiled. "What, do you have a disease or something?"

Chance smiled. "Don't think so. Not that I know of, anyways."

Devon grinned back. "Well, I'll see you around then. Good luck on your test."

"Thank you."