A/N: Hello lovely readers! Here's chapter three albeit a bit late. I was traveling and had trouble getting the editing done until now. I'm really sorry! This chapter and the next one only feature four out of the five POV characters. It just ended up working out that way when I was writing. But, if your fav doesn't show up in this chapter, never fear... they will be in the next!

As always a special shout out to my betas dracoterrae9099 and NutHeda. You guys are the BEST!

Chapter Three:

Magic: A History

I slipped into a cave one day
I never thought I'd leave that place
When I woke up the sky had fallen down
Our thoughts are written on our face
We try to run and change our fate
But time will always catch us in disguise
Oh I hear you lost your head again
Oh boy, looks like old days are here to stay, my friends
My friends
My Friends - The Head and the Heart

The smell of sizzling bacon and syrupy waffles wafted from the Great Hall, guiding Octavia like a beacon. Images of dancing hotcakes, singing sausage links, and tap-dancing jugs of pumpkin juice filled her drowsy head. She bit back a yawn, still half-asleep, and stretched her arms overhead as she entered the hall. Unsurprisingly, none of the food appeared to be dancing on the tables. Even in the wizarding world, food that sang—or spoke, for that matter—was considered highly unusual.

Octavia scanned the room, looking for her group of friends and found them sitting at the Hufflepuff table. Well, what would be the Hufflepuff table in the evening. No one seemed to care about house divisions during breakfast or lunch. The only exception to this behavior was Slytherin, whose table was always segregated no matter the time of day. Octavia wasn't bothered by this at all since she couldn't think of a single Slytherin with whom she would enjoy spending time. They were all pretty much two-faced and untrustworthy in her book. She hadn't always felt that way, but naivety is a symptom of youth which only time can cure. After being burned by Murphy a year ago, she considered herself fully disillusioned on that account.

Raven waved at her from the Hufflepuff table. Octavia returned the gesture and made her way across the room. She had barely walked ten steps before a brown-haired boy stepped into her path. Atom. Octavia crossed her arms, her face an open book of irritation and anger.

"What do you want, Atom?" she sighed.

"I just want to talk," he said, holding his hands up.

Octavia bit out a laugh, "You want to talk? You're unbelievable."

"Come on, Octavia. Give us another shot."

She cocked her head to one side, giving him a puzzled look. "You do remember that you literally ran away from me the other day?"

"What?" Atom spluttered, his face turning red. "That wasn't- I didn't-"

"Look Atom," Octavia patted his chest like she might pat a child on the head. "I'm not interested anymore. I know you're only talking to me because Bellamy's not around. You lost your chance the minute you listened to my brother. Better luck next time though." She gave him small shrug before walking away. Another one bites the dust, she thought. Still, there was no use crying over spilt milk. She tossed her head and smiled devilishly at the looks of curiosity coming from her friends.

"What?" she asked when she sat down and the stares didn't stop.

"You just seem… cheery for someone who was so upset about the whole Atom-Bellamy thing…" Raven responded with a small shrug.

"You knock me down and I…" Octavia prodded, looking expectantly at her peers.

"Get the fuck back up again," Jasper, Monty, and Harper chorused as if they'd said it a hundred times.

Raven laughed, "That's awesome. How have I not heard that before?"

"Octavia said it all the time in third year when we got bad marks on tests," Harper said, shaking her head at the memory.

"What can I say? I'm resilient…and starving. Stop talking to me so I can eat." Octavia said as she filled her plate generously with scrambled eggs, toast, bacon, and sausage.

The group laughed, but of course, no one stopped talking. Monty asked everyone what their first class of the day was. Harper and Octavia had Potions with Professor Griffin. Monty had Advanced Herbology, while Jasper was taking a seminar class called 'Theory of Divination.' Raven had a free period before Advanced History of Magic.

"Theory of Divination, Jasper? Really?" Monty rolled his eyes at his best friend.

"I heard it's really just glorified tea time. Crumpets and all. There are no tests, only one 'group presentation' at the end of term." Harper said, always reliable with little tidbits of information.

"Where do I sign up?" Octavia asked.

"It's a sixth year class," Raven shrugged apologetically at Octavia's disappointed expression.

"How are you going to get a job if you take joke classes for our last two years?" Monty asked Jasper, obviously worried for him and a little annoyed.

"I think the real question we should be asking is why Raven is up so early if she has a free period…" Jasper diverted the conversation away from him.

"I like to get an early start to my day," Raven said defensively. "Which reminds me, I've got to get to the library."

"We don't have any homework yet! What could you possibly be doing in the library?" Jasper asked indignantly as Raven got out of her seat.

"I need a book for class." Raven laughed, "It's not a crime to go to the library, you know."

"Speak for yourself," Jasper muttered.

"Oh, look at that, I just did," Raven threw over her shoulder as she left the group.

"You're such a smart ass, Reyes," Jasper yelled after her.

"Stop talking about my ass, Jordan," Raven shouted back. Her spirits were high as she left the Great Hall; nothing took her mind off of…life like good friends and good food.

The library was largely unpopulated; only a few students dotted the tables and stacks, all of whom Raven recognized as regulars of the dusty tomes. She was no different. The library was her sanctuary. Well, the library and the office of her Muggle Studies professor. Raven loved tinkering with car parts and muggle machinery and Professor Sinclair was always happy to accommodate her. There was something so rewarding about getting her hands greasy and fixing something without magic.

In truth, she had all the books she needed for class. Raven was really in the library to look for an old book on muggle aeronautics. She had heard about it over the summer and decided to root through Hogwarts' extensive archives before spending any of her savings. The school library had never failed her in the past.

It didn't take Raven long to find what she was looking for; she knew the library like the back of her hand. After checking the book out with Madam Tsing, Raven found a table in the corner and sat down to read Theory of Flight by von Mises. She sighed happily as she began to read about aeronautical engineering like it was a trashy romance novel. Raven had barely finished the first chapter when her attention was pulled away by person loudly clearing their throat.

Roan plopped down in the chair next to her, his face spread wide in a lethal grin. "Hey, Reyes."

Her face turned a bright shade of scarlet as she remembered their last encounter. "Leave me alone, Roan."

"What is aero-dyn-amics?" He said, sounding out out the last word slowly.

"Roan, this," Raven motioned to the room around her, "is my safe space. No one fucks with me in my safe space. Got it?"

"Just let me say some-"

"No," Raven hissed.

The grin fell from Roan's face, "Fine."

"Fine."

"Fine." Roan stood up abruptly and his chair squeaked loudly against the wooden floor, calling attention to the two. Everyone was looking in their direction, even Finn who had just walked through the door. Raven sent a small prayer up to whatever god was listening as Finn started to walk towards her.

"Wait," she grabbed Roan's wrist pulling him back down. "Pretend I said something funny and laugh."

"What?" he asked, stunned.

"Just laugh!" Raven kicked him under the table. "You. Owe. Me."

Roan let out a yelp at her swift footwork, but it turned quickly into a laugh. It was pained albeit, but a laugh nonetheless. His eyes narrowed, never leaving hers.

"Seriously?" Roan asked incredulously.

"Don't say anything," Raven smiled sweetly at him. "Just go with it. You know kind of like you did the other day when I thought you were Bellamy!" She hissed the last part at him before laughing and throwing her hair playfully over her shoulder. Her performance was forced, but it had the desired effect. When she looked back, Finn was nowhere to be seen. Her smile dropped immediately.

"May I remind you," Roan said, his voice a low whisper as he met her glare without flinching, "that I was the one vulnerable and unconscious in the dark before you woke me up… rather aggressively I might add."

Raven fought the flush that was threatening to return to her face. She looked away from him, muttering under her breath.

"What?" He asked, obviously unable to hear what she said.

"I said Bellamy's name when I walked into the compartment." She snapped.

"I was asleep!" Roan threw his hands up.

"I know, I know!" Raven said defensively, then sighed, "Sorry for attacking you."

Roan stared at her obviously unable to make up his mind whether she was being sarcastic or sincere. He seemed to decide that he didn't care.

"Well, I apologize for not saying anything during… you know," Roan coughed, not looking at her. The moment of boyish earnestness was broken as soon as he turned back to grin shamelessly at her, "I did like being attacked though so if you want to do it again sometime-"

"Just go," Raven moaned and dropped her head onto the table as the blush crept up her cheeks once more.

"Right," Roan said cheerfully. "Well, consider it a standing offer!"

"Mm-hmm," Raven grunted without looking up and shooed him away with her hand.

God that was embarrassing. First Roan, and then Finn, and then Roan. Ugh. This year was going to be a cluster-fuck of emotions, Raven just knew it. She looked up at the clock on the wall and realized that she needed to leave now or she would be late. She gathered her school bag and after carefully placing her newly acquired book into it, made for the door. She passed a table with a few whispering second years who were staring at her. Did they think she wouldn't notice? Really?

"What are you looking at, twerps?" She growled at them. They all shifted their gazes away quickly, looking nervous.

Raven smirked and pushed through the library doors. Her feet beat a quick rhythm against the flagstones as she flew down the steps two at a time. She reached the first floor classroom with a few minutes to spare.

A frown creased her tan face when she attempted to open the door. The handle was locked. She jiggled it, but the wood wouldn't budge. As she began her second attempt, bright letters appeared upon the door:

Attention Sixth Year Students: Advanced History of Magic will be held in Professor Kane's office. Fourth Floor. Room 4A. Chop, chop!

Raven cursed loudly and pivoted on the spot, taking off like a green racehorse. She hated being late. Her steps quickened as she navigated the stairwells back the way she came. Up, up, up until she entered at a long corridor on the fourth floor. The door labeled 4A was open in welcome, sporting a little handwritten sign reading 'You made it!' in gold ink. Hoisting her bag further onto her shoulder from where it had slipped, Raven put on her game face and entered the room.

The office was bright and airy, filled with the yellow glow of natural light which poured from the ceiling-high windows that made up the far wall. A dark walnut table took up a large portion of the room and Raven saw that most of the seats were already occupied by students. Behind the table was a large ornate tapestry and a desk of similar style upon which Professor Kane was perched.

"Welcome, Miss Reyes," Kane greeted with a tone as luminous as his office. "I'm glad you saw my little note."

"Just barely, sir," Raven replied, trying to keep the snark from her voice. She found a seat next to a Gryffindor girl whose name she couldn't remember… Bethany Waters? Barbara Waters? Bonnie Waters? Well, her last name was definitely 'Waters,' that much was sure.

Raven took out a piece of parchment and a muggle fountain pen, ignoring the stare that Bethany-Barbara-Bonnie Waters was giving her. Quill and ink were so impractical when you could simply refill a fountain pen.

"That's it, girls and boys." Professor Kane clapped his hands together and hopped off his desk, striding up to take a seat at the head of the table. "Class has officially begun! We're still missing a student, but… his loss-"

Bellamy Blake huffed through the open door, pausing to put his hands on his knees and breathe deeply. He waved his hand at the onlookers; he was fine, just out of breath. His hair was pushed to one side, like he had just been sleeping on it, which, in fact, he had.

"Well that was quite the entrance, Mr. Blake. Please sit down," Professor Kane motioned to the table.

Bellamy straightened, then gave the whole room a deep bow and cavelier smile before plopping down in the open seat next to Raven.

"Did I miss anything?" Bellamy whispered out of the side of his mouth while he pulled supplies from his school bag.

"Just a few cylinders at birth," Raven sniped back, not turning to look at him.

Bellamy chuckled under his breath and glanced around the table. There were only a handful of students in the room, most of whom he knew fairly well, except one particular blonde. The ever-intriguing Clarke Griffin was sitting across from Bellamy, giving him the most contemptuous look he had ever received…which was a feat in itself. He raised his eyebrows and shot her a grin. It had the opposite effect than he intended, further deepening the frown she wore. Worth a shot, he told himself.

"Now that everyone is present," the professor's gaze lingered on Bellamy, "let us begin. Please pull out the assigned reading materials so I can ensure everyone is properly prepared for the term. Today, and for the first month of this class, we will be discussing one of my favorite books by Delphis Mandagle, The Evolution of Magic."

Professor Kane began to make his way around the table, checking the stacks of books produced by each student. Bellamy closed his eyes briefly, steeling himself for the inevitable reprimand. Professor Kane was bound to notice that his stack was significantly shorter than the other students.

"Mr. Blake?" Kane's voice came from overhead and the man's wand tapped against lacking materials.

Bellamy cleared his throat, looking straight ahead, "I'll have them all by next class, sir."

"I'm sure you will," was all Kane said, placing a hand on Bellamy's shoulder before moving on to the next student. Bellamy's throat tightened and his devil-may-care facade slipped for a millisecond. There was no sarcasm or ire in Kane's voice, just simple understanding. To Bellamy, that was so much worse. Throw insults at him. Expect failure. He could take it; being tough and defensive was Bellamy's modus operandi…but vulnerability? Never. He would die before telling Professor Kane that the reason he didn't have most of the books was because he had spent the school's small allowance on Octavia. He might have to feel inadequate and receive the disapproving stares from teachers for the first week while he tracked down outdated editions in the library, but he would be damned before he let his sister feel that way.

"Could you be any less prepared for this class?" Raven asked haughtily as Kane finished his round on the table.

"Bite me, Raven," Bellamy rolled his eyes at her, thankful for an excuse to slip back into his comfort zone.

"No, thank you," She snipped back. Bellamy faced forward and noticed that Clarke was still staring at him. Huh. As soon as she realized she had been caught staring, Clarke turned to whisper something to the other Slytherin in the class. Bellamy recognized her as Murphy's girlfriend, Emori.

"Now, before you open your books, I would like to get a sense of how much you already know about the history of magic." The entire table adopted an expression of confusion. Some, like Raven, were looking at Professor Kane as if he was crazy. He had after all been their sole teacher in the subject for the past five years.

Kane tapped his index finger against his top lip, "Hmmm, perhaps I can rephrase it as a question…What do you know about our beginning," he gestured widely around the table. A tentative hand went up.

"There is no need to raise your hand, Miss Sims. This is a seminar class. If you have something to say, simply say it," Professor Kane nodded towards the petite Ravenclaw girl at the other end of the table.

"Well," the girl cleared her throat anxiously. "There are our founders obviously: Rowena Ravenclaw, Godric Gryffindor, Helga Hufflepuff, and Salazar Slytherin-"

"Quite right; however, I was not referring to the beginning of Hogwarts, but rather the beginning of magic." Professor Kane smiled, unperturbed by the vacant looks he was receiving. "Perfect! If you already knew about the evolution of magic, then this class would be of little use to you. Now, put away your books and, as most of you have probably not done the assigned reading anyways, I'll give you a summary of what this class will entail. This is your one and only freebie.

"Our history - the history of magic - starts not unlike the history of muggles. Long ago, about two hundred thousand years, there were two distinct species of man: Homo sapiens and Neanderthals. Both of these species lived in competition for food, water, and shelter; however, the Neanderthals had one advantage… magic."

As Professor Kane spoke, his wand seemed to dance in his hand, sending images of gold dust floating into the air to illustrate the story. All of the students sat entranced. Kane continued:

"This magic was different, more primitive than what we learn today. You must remember, this was before the invention of wands. It takes years of long study to be able to do wandless magic even now, so you can imagine the restrictions this cast on our ancestors long ago. Their power consisted of runes - a sort of magical language - and the infusion of magic into plants and animals. But I digress into specificity… Where was I? Oh, yes… the Neanderthals had the advantage of magic and time. They were more evolved than the Homo sapiens; however, their evolution created problems of its own. Our species was divided, half believing in the superiority of their race and half desiring coexistence with others. The tension created by this division grew until it came to a head around forty thousand years ago. The dark faction of our ancestors wanted to wipe Homo sapiens off the earth and they began to shape the tools at their disposal to their sinister purpose, creating what we call 'magical biowarfare.' In order to prevent the extinction of an entire species, the light faction waged war on their own brothers… a civil war which took many lives. According to muggle history, the Neanderthals died out; however, the true story is that the surviving members of the light faction removed themselves from the outside world for the protection of all. Homo sapiens were left in peace to evolve into the muggles of today and our ancestors - the Neanderthals - gave rise to us." Kane paused for affect, "Any questions?"

Half of the group raised their hands and then lowered them, remembering his earlier reprimand. Raven spoke up first, of course.

"Sir, if Neanderthals and Homo sapiens - wizards and muggles - were indeed different species, then doesn't that contradict the emergence of muggleborns… Homo sapiens with magic?"

Professor Kane nodded eagerly, "Excellent question, Ms. Reyes. There are two schools of thought on that matter…One is that both our ancestors had over a millennia to cohabitate both culturally and sexually, which we can observe in the modern makeup of the wizarding world. Hardly any families are truly 'pureblood,' or solely descended from Neanderthals, so the belief is that the intermixing of the two species over the years created latent traits in muggles who at some point had a wizard ancestor."

"So, in other words, muggleborns are really just sixteenth-blood or twentieth-blood rather than truly muggles?" Bellamy asked, curious.

"Perhaps," Kane continued, "but, the other school of thought maintains that Homo sapiens - the ancestors of muggles - were just as magical as Neanderthals; however, their more primitive society idolized or alienated anyone with such abilities to the point where being extraordinary was dangerous, making Homo sapiens with magic more and more rare."

The discussion continued for the remainder of the hour with Kane calling on anyone who tried to remain particularly silent. It was an annoying habit really. Thankfully, he seemed to be giving Clarke a pass, but she couldn't decide whether that was a good or a bad thing. Her mind seemed to plead the former.

When the ornate chroniker behind Kane's desk struck eleven, a parade of miniature, gold badgers paraded across the ceiling before disappearing back into the clock's dark mahogany face.

Kane sighed, "Now, I'm afraid that's all we have time for today, but before you go… I will give twenty-five points to whoever can guess what subject that we study today evolved from the magical biowarfare of long ago!"

"Potions," Clarke said, finally breaking her silence.

"Very good, Miss Griffin! Twenty-five points to Slytherin. Now, off you go. You don't want to be late for your next class."

Clarke couldn't help but notice that the other students seemed less than pleased she had answered correctly, though the observation didn't bother her. Durmstrang had not been exactly sunshine and daisies in that department either. Competition is always healthy if it pushes you to do better, her dad had always told her. Clarke shoved that thought away as she stood up from the table. She stuffed her books and school supplies into her bag, pausing when she felt a friendly punch against her shoulder. It was Emori.

"Good job, Griffin! I knew you'd be useful," Emori grinned, slinging her already full bag over her shoulders. "What class do you have next?"

Clarke checked her schedule, "Potions." She grimaced, throwing the rest of her bag together before following Emori out of Kane's office.

"Ooooh," Emori gave Clarke a sympathetic look. "Potions with Professor Griffin. Double trouble."

Clarke shrugged her shoulder. She'd survive, she always did. Emori stopped mid-stride and Clarke almost ran into the girl. Murphy was leaning against the far wall at the end of the corridor, giving them the weirdest, shit-eating grin.

"Cancel all your plans, Clarke Griffin," Emori's excitement radiated as she bounced on the balls of her feet. "You are in for a treat!"

"I am not having a three-way with you and Murphy," Clarke said sarcastically, trying to swallow her deep skepticism.

Emori threw her head back and laughed, "No, it's nothing sexual."

Murphy stepped forward when they neared him. "Ready to become a real Slytherin, Clarke?"

"Umm…" Clarke looked back and forth between the couple. Their expressions were excited, too excited. "I think so?"

"Great, we're skipping class!" Murphy winked at Emori.

"But-" Clarke looked around, trying to figure out if she wanted to find an excuse to back out. Their sheer joy was suffocating.

"Clarke, it's Potions…with your mother," Emori stressed, looking at Clarke as if she was insane. Am I insane? Clarke thought derisively. She definitely didn't want to spend an hour in the dungeons with Abby.

"Good point. I'm in," Clarke nodded and let the two of them drag her downstairs. Clarke had no idea where they were heading. She still hadn't managed to get her bearings on the castle and the swift pace didn't help her at all. She knew when they passed by the turnoff for the Slytherin common room, which threw Clarke's only guess at a destination out of the window.

"Where are we going?" she asked when they emerged into the viaduct courtyard, trying not to snap. She had two pet peeves that irked her more than anything: she hated being out of the loop and she hated following other people. Clarke was doing both of those things right now.

"You'll see." Murphy said, leading the trio down some stairs off to the side of the courtyard. After what felt like a thousand steps, the stairs became a shallow stone landing that jutted out from the castle's foundation, far below the Great Hall. Clarke realized that they must be parallel with the dungeons by now. Emori and Murphy walked forward and disappeared into the stone face of the cliff. Clarke took a few steps forward cautiously, then realized that the two had simply turned down a hidden passage in the rock wall. She braced herself against the damp darkness of the tunnel and then pushed forward.

"Lumos," she murmured, her wand coming to life. The tunnel was long and she couldn't see anything at the end. Murphy and Emori had already disappeared. A sense of dread stole over Clarke, but she forced herself to keep breathing evenly. I'm not afraid, she told herself as though she could will the thought into existence. As she continued down the black passageway, Clarke was able to make out noises. There were voices growing louder and louder and a light at the end of the tunnel. The distant glow drew closer until the path turned sharply and Clarke suddenly found herself in a cavernous room hewn out of murky, black stone. She was in the very bowels of the castle. The voices she had heard were coming from a group of twenty or so students all wearing the same green-lined robes as Clarke.

"Glad you didn't chicken out!" Emori popped into view again. "Sorry 'bout that, but all newbies have to come through on their own. It's tradition."

Clarke shook her head, the tension in her shoulders easing a little. "You could've warned me."

"Nah, that takes away most of the fun," Murphy piped in.

"Where am I?" Clarke murmured more to herself than anyone else.

"The boathouse," a new voice said, and Clarke stopped looking around to focus on the person in front of her. It was Anya. "After the first years are brought in, these rowboats just sit here most of the year. We like to put them to good use."

Clarke glanced over and saw that a few Slytherins were fastening the boats together to form a makeshift barge. Others were carrying baskets or boxes, but Clarke couldn't tell what was inside them.

"Coming?" Clarke saw that Anya was waiting for her. Everyone else was beginning to pile on the ark. It looked dangerous and fun… Clarke could use some fun.

"Definitely." Clarke replied and followed the older girl onto the raft. Anya handed her an oar to paddle with. It was comical, really. It took them ten minutes just to get out of the boathouse, but once they did, it was so worth it.

After following the dark channel of water away from the dock, they emerged into the bright sunlight, which elicited a cacophony of triumphant shouts from the group. The inlet of the Great Lake that they came out into was almost a lagoon. It was completely secluded, so no one would be able to see them from the main shore, and still far enough away from the castle that its great shadow didn't block out the sun. Clarke admitted it was a rather clever location for a score of students to skip class, unnoticed.

While Anya and a few other seventh years performed a spell to keep the raft in place, the mysterious baskets and boxes were unpacked. They revealed all sorts of treats: hard cheeses, smoked ham, treacle and brambleberry tarts, and many, many bottles of firewhiskey.

Murphy grabbed a bottle and some other snacks, bringing the assortment of goods over to where Emori, Anya, and Clarke were sitting.

"Welcome to Slytherin, Clarke," Murphy handed her the bottle first. After a moment's hesitation, she took a large gulp; the alcohol slid down her throat, leaving a warm burn in its place. It was wonderful.

"Glad to be here," Clarke said. And she meant it.

They passed the bottle around their small circle and before long Clarke began to feel warm inside. The sun was strong, apparently a rare occurrence during the school year, and the Slytherins were definitely eager to take advantage of it. Most had stripped down to the bare essentials to soak up some rays.

"Watch out!" a shout went up.

A flash of orange passed by Clarke's head, missing her by inches. She turned, her head spinning slightly at the swift motion and saw that the rest of the group had cleared a section of the barge. In the space left vacant the Slytherins began to take turns dueling. They were casting jinxes or trying to disarm each other, harmless magic in the grand scheme of things; the goal seemed to be to knock one's opponent into the water.

Noticing this, Clarke let out a soft laugh; it felt rusty from disuse. The old Clarke would have found a reason to lecture them on safety, but surprisingly, she didn't feel concerned at all. Maybe it was the sun, or the booze, or the company, but Clarke was enjoying herself for the first time in a long time. She was having fun.

"Want to take a turn?" Anya said, nodding her head towards the duel.

Clarke's smile fell slightly and she shook her head, "I shouldn't."

The three looked at her, obviously wanting more of an explanation than she could give.

"I get…carried away, sometimes." She shrugged, trying to brush it off, "I wouldn't want to hurt anyone."

"That sounds like a challenge," Murphy sneered.

Clarke forced a laugh, "No, it's not. I promise."

"Well you still have to take a plunge in the lake. It's tradition." Emori stated, taking another swig of firewhiskey.

Clarke raised her eyebrows, "Slytherin seems to have a lot of so-called 'traditions.'"

Emori and Murphy were on her before she could act; Clarke was lifted unceremoniously, despite her protests, and tossed over the side of the barge. The water wasn't as cold as she thought it would be, but the shock still took her breath away.

"Motherf… you little shi… I'm going to...ahh!" She spluttered when she broke the surface. Emori, Anya, and Murphy were laughing hard. Emori kept apologizing between fits of giggles. When Clarke caught her breath enough, she swam back to the raft. The top layer of the water was actually pleasantly warm, not that she would tell them that.

Murphy held out his hands to help Clarke onto the barge and she didn't refuse. Midway up, Clarke gave him an evil smile and tugged. The look of shock on Murphy's face before he somersaulted over her head into the water was fucking priceless. Clarke pulled herself onto the barge, collapsing onto her back and cackling mercilessly. Anya and Emori froze mid laugh, their faces held disbelief. Their shock lasted less than a second before they bent forward, laughing even harder than before.

The four spent the next two hours eating, drinking, and swimming. Clarke skipped potions, her free period, and lunch, but as the day dragged on and her last class approached, she felt an urgency to attend.

"I really, really should go, you know?" she said gathering her scattered clothes which were mercifully dry. "What if the new Professor gives me detention because of skipping…you said detention is awful…oh god, what if he expels me? Actually that's not the worst plan…no, I really should go. I do like charms."

Emori buried her face in Murphy's chest, her body shaking with laughter. Murphy looked at Clarke like she had sprouted horns. "You are the most talkative drunk, Griffin."

"Shhhh, Murphy. Shhh." Clarke whispered, "I'm trying to find my shirt."

"Are you going to-" Emori hiccuped slightly, "hear it?"

"Give her a break," Anya said from where she was sunbathing. "I think it's cute, Clarke."

"Thanks," Clarke smiled at her new friend, distracted.

"One small question," Murphy held up two fingers, then quickly put one of them down. "How are you going to get back?"

"Swim, of course," Clarke replied like she'd never heard a dumber question.

"I'll go with you," Anya said, stretching and standing up. "I should get back anyways."

"You two are no fun!" Emori pouted, until Murphy whispered something in her ear, after which she seemed perfectly happy to let Anya and Clarke leave.

"Here," Anya placed a bubble charm on each of their heads and around their dry clothes. It took a few tries; afterall, alcohol and magic don't complement each other well.

Clarke dove into the lake, loving the silky feeling of the water on her skin. It was the perfect temperature now. She followed Anya away from the barge and around the bend of the inlet that separated them from the main lake. The two girls kept a surprisingly fast pace despite the fact that both were much more intoxicated than was conducive to swimming; even so, they reached the main shore of the lake after a couple of minutes. Only a few people dotted the grounds, most too far away to notice two girls emerging from the water's depths.

"Your clothes, miss." Anya bowed genially.

"Many thanks," Clarke curtsied, taking her armful of clothing. "This was fun."

"Get used to it, Griffin. We, Slytherins, are a fun bunch," Anya said and then turned like she had heard someone call her name. "Oh shit. Well, gotta go! I spy my girlfriend and I don't want her getting the wrong idea about this…"

Both girls were in only their underwear, holding their clothes. Clarke blushed and laughed awkwardly. Damn, she was pretty drunk.

Anya walked away, but turned back to shout, "You should try out for the Quidditch team! Next Tuesday!"

Clarke made a thumbs up and watched the older girl jog away. Yep, she was definitely drunk. Looking around, she spied some bushes halfway between where she stood and the castle. I can make that.

She walked determinedly towards the coverage, holding her breath until she was tucked safely behind a bush. Her attempt to get dressed and hold the rest of her clothes at the same time lasted for about half a minute before Clarke realized it was unrealistic. Being drunk was only fun when you didn't have to do anything. Sighing out her frustration, she held onto her skirt and threw the rest of her clothes on top of the bush. Well, that was what she intended to do, but depth perception was a bitch and her clothes went flying over the other side of the traitorously short plant.

There was a grunt on impact and a stunned voice said, "What the hell?"

Clarke froze, breathing shallowly. She looked down at the skirt in her hand. Should she make a run for the water?

"Hello?" the voice said again.

"Hi," Clarke's mouth responded before her brain could make a decision. Gasping, she clasped a hand tightly over her mouth and cursed inwardly.

"You seem to be missing a few things." She heard a rustle of movement and feared the worst.

"Don't move!" She shouted, then added more calmly. "Stay where you are, please."

"Ok…"

"Could you pass over my shirt?"

"Just your shirt?"

"I said shirt, didn't I?"

"Right, sorry."

Clarke pulled on her skirt quickly and then took her shirt that was tossed over the barrier like a white flag. After buttoning the shirt with great effort, Clarke tucked it in and pulled her wet hair off her shoulders. She stepped out from behind the bush and came face to face with the boy from the great hall, from class earlier, the one that kept staring at her.

"Oh," he breathed, his eyes wide. In surprise?

He was much taller than she had imagined. He'd been sitting for the majority of their interactions… if they could be called that. They had just stared at each other, really. No. He had stared at her. She had not done any staring. Well, maybe a little bit, but that was beside the point. Clarke shook her head and realized that she hadn't said anything. He appeared to have noticed the same thing because his face reddened and he stuck his hands out, which were full of her clothes.

"Thanks," she murmured, distracted by how the flush of color spread from the bottom of his face upwards. It was really interesting. Oh my god, I am never drinking Firewhiskey again. She grabbed the clothes out of his hands. He nodded and turned around to give her privacy even though she was practically dressed. She dropped her robes and shoes on the grass. Why hadn't she thought to do that in the first place? Firewhiskey.

"I'm Bellamy, by the way," he said, his back to her as she pulled on her sweater and green tie.

She nodded, then realized he couldn't see her and added, "Clarke." She shoved her shoes onto her feet and threw her robes over her shoulders. "You can turn around."

Bellamy looked at her and that annoying, rakish grin from earlier had returned to his face, "I bet there is a great story behind all this." He motioned to the bush and then back to Clarke. She wanted to wipe that stupid smile from his face; it was so obnoxiously confident. Bellamy, standing so close with that ridiculous, crooked smile, was making her feel funny.

She crossed her arms, "Yeah. There is."

"Alright, keep your secrets, Clarke," his smile just grew wider if possible. God, it was frustrating how easily he smiled. Didn't he know it was hard for some people? So rude.

"I have to go." Clarke lifted her chin, haughtily. "Thank you for returning my clothes."

"Anytime," Bellamy replied, his brown eyes twinkling. They are not twinkling!

"What?" His brows furrowed, confusion written clearly across his face.

"What?"

"I said, 'anytime' and then you said, 'they're not twinkling.'" Bellamy looked at her, obviously expecting a rational explanation.

"No, I didn't." Dear god.

"Yes, you did."

"Yeah, OK." Clarke scoffed, backing away. Oh, my god. Stop. Talking. She turned on her heels and walked back towards the castle as fast as her legs would carry her.

"I'll see you around then?" Bellamy shouted after her, but she didn't turn around. Her head was spinning. Who was she kidding? She was definitely not going to Charms class. She was going to take a long nap and, if she was lucky, never wake up.

A/N: Hope you enjoyed the latest chapter! Sorry for the lack of Lexa... It's a crime, I know! She will have a big POV in the next chapter! I plan to have a more even distribution of POVs as the story progresses so that each character features in each chapter and no one feels left out. Leave a review if you have the time! They always brighten my day. Until next time Xx