It's nice to be important

But more important to be nice

Fred looked around warily, tension almost vibrating out of him. George inched closer to him, hand twitching towards his wand, hidden up his sleeve.

The boy in front of them was barring the doorway to the dorm. He was the first year with slicked black hair. Behind him, a platinum blond watched from his bed with minimal interest.

"Let us through?" Fred tried again with a strained smile. He was tired. They had been dealing with concealed insults and slights all through dinner.

The black haired boy looked at him incredulously. "You're bloodtraitors." He gave them a sneer, and unseen, George rolled his eyes. "You aren't sleeping in here. Your filth could rub off."

"Well, where do you expect us to sleep, then?" George said, exasperated.

The boy shrugged. "Not my problem. On the floor in the common room, maybe." His smile was malicious. The common room, while elaborately decorated and cushioned with the finest quality cushions, was cool already due to it being under the lake, and likely to be downright freezing in midnight.

A loud sigh came from the dorm. "For Merlin' s sake, just let them in, Faber." The blonde haired boy sat up on his elbows. "It's too late to cause this much trouble."

Faber scowled at the boy, but acquiesced surprisingly quickly. "Didn't know you were a Muggle sympathizer, Blaise."

"Oh, sod off. No one needs your blabber on the first night." Blaise rolled his eyes. Faber stomped off to his bed, but didn't seem to angry, just resigned. Blaise turned to the amused twins.

"Cyrus Blaise. And that's Byoros Faber. Pleased to meet you." With that, he turned back to his book.

The twins exchanged glances. "Fred Weasley," Fred said.

"George."

Blaise looked at the two with scrutinizing eyes. "Weasley One," he dubbed, pointing at Fred, "And Weasley Two."

"Or you could just call us by our first names?" Fred suggested, glancing at George who seemed slightly upset he wasn't Weasley One.

Blaise didn't say anything in response, choosing to continue to peruse his book. Fred and George exchanged glances again, and quickly went to their beds. It was covered with a green spread, and the hangings around the bed were emerald, too. There were ornate silver decorations at the front that glinted in the rising moon. Their trunks lay at the base, but had a silver loop threading through the lock hole.

"What are these?" Fred murmured to George, gesturing to the loop. Looking at it closer, he could see that odd shapes and writings were inscribed on the outside.

Blaise somehow heard him, and replied, "They're complimentary wards for your belongings."

"Wards?' George asked. "Protective ones?"

Blaise nodded. "They provide them for first and second years, but from then on you're expected to protect it yourself. You may want to consider upgrading them anyway, though. The wards are mass produced, and haven't been updated to match current understanding of runes since the 1700s." A look of distaste accompanied his words, before he turned to his book once again. Fred silently promised himself to do some research on wards.

"Why are you talking so much to them?" Faber muttered from where he was trying to look disinterested, He was ignored.

"So are you adept in Runes?" George asked curiously, obviously fishing for information. Fred made a note to teach him in that vein.

"I know the basics." Blaise shrugged.

Faber snorted. "His mother is a Runescript Master. He knows more than the basics."

Blaise eyed Faber disapprovingly, but continued. "Anyways, I can lend you a book to get started on."

"Thanks." Fred and George said in unison (with no small amount of suspicion; they weren't stupid), nodding to Blaise. They sat next to each other on the bed and looked around the dorm.

It was shaded and quiet. There were some thumps coming from the room next door, but they disappeared quickly. The enchanted moon shone brightly through a window, casting odd shadows that shifted and twisted away from direct sight. Fred quickly looked away from the silver light. It reminded him too much of an old friend.

The atmosphere was cold and unsafe at the moment, despite the reprieve brought by Blaise, but Fred had some sudden intuition that would change with time. George seemed to be coming to his own conclusions, with how he was still looking around with an odd expression.

Fred though, he could see them living in the dorm. It couldn't be worse than the bunkers during the Millefiore war, anyway.

This one's a little short, but I figure I owe you something after nearly a...month? Maybe less.

I have next to nothing planned for the next one, except perhaps some Lee Jordan. I'm still taking prompts!

This happens right after the welcome feast, if you couldn't already tell.

Thank you to everyone who reviewed! Love ya!