January was nearly over – although the weather was certainly not getting any warmer, the days were getting slightly longer, and quidditch season was in full swing. The Horned Serpents were atop the Quidditch Cup standings as they were undefeated, and had a big game coming up against the Thunderbirds. Nova had fully recovered and Harry had quickly established himself as a rising star, as he was the youngest seeker in multiple generations.

Harry tried to downplay his status as the Horned Serpents newest star, as he was quick to point out the circumstances of both of his team's victories – the was entirely accidental as he had prevented the Wampus seeker Rashid Ibrahim from a potentially devastating injury, and the other was thanks in large part due to his friend and teammate November Woodward sacrificing her broom and earning a trip to the infirmary by absorbing a bludger hit by none other than the infamous Pukwudgie beater, Flynn Replogle.

On the last Saturday of the month, Harry and his housemates were enjoying breakfast together in the great hall when their Thunderbird friend Chelsea Meservey skipped to the Horned Serpent table.

"Good morning, Chelsea," Harry said warmly. "We're playing your house today. Are you coming to the game?"

Chelsea giggled. "Well, I suppose so… but I'm not here to talk about quidditch, actually." She waved a letter in her hand. "I just wanted to show you that Kellen's not the only one here with a Hogwarts pen pal, you know."

"Wait, you got a pen pal too?" Ana asked, somewhat stunned. "What's his name?"

"Her," corrected Chelsea. "Her name is Daphne Greengrass, and apparently she's friends with that Granger girl that Sandy likes so much." She tried stifling her giggles, but failed miserably. Kellen merely rolled his eyes.

She cleared her throat and started to read the letter aloud to her Horned Serpent friends:

"Sunday, January 19th, 1992

Dear Chelsea,

Hiya! How are you? My name is Daphne Greengrass, and like you, I'm a witch! I go to a school in Scotland called Hogwarts. I come from a family of wizards, and we've gone to Hogwarts for many generations! Like most Greengrasses, I've been sorted into a house called Slytherin – it's home of the ambitious and cunning. Our mascot is the serpent. Unfortunately, some witches and wizards from Slytherin are known to dabble in dark magic, but I personally would never touch it!

What about you? Do you come from a family of wizards? It's okay if you don't. I have friends who are called 'Muggle-born', meaning they aren't from magical families. One of my best friends is a first-year Gryffindor named Hermione, and she's tremendously gifted, yet she's Muggle-born! Curiously, she has a pen pal from your school named Kellen who's also absurdly intelligent and is also Muggle-born… perhaps you know him? From the pictures Hermione showed me, Kellen is a very, very handsome boy. I'm a little jealous of her, to be honest!

How do you like Ilvermorny so far? What house do you belong to? I believe Kellen is what you call a Horned Serpent… that's where the cleverest students get sorted, if memory serves. I'm afraid I don't know much about your school, so I apologise if I got that wrong!

Oh Merlin… I have quite a few questions for you, but I don't even know where to begin! What part of the States are you from? What do you like to do in your free time? I enjoy spending time with friends, and I also like to paint and sing.

I look forward to getting to know you a bit better!

Love,

Daphne"

"Well, I'll be," purred Nova. "I reckon you weren't expecting a pen pal of you own, were you, Meservey?"

Chelsea shrugged. "It was a pleasant surprise for sure. She sounds like a very nice girl." She rapped her fingertips on her chin, and grinned. "I can't help but guess that she was hoping her pen pal was a boy, though. She seems to have a bit of a crush on you, Kellen…"

Kellen blushed a deep pink.

"Oh, Sandy, what is it with you and British girls?" giggled Nova. "By the end of the term, all of the witches at Hogwarts will be swooning over you!"

"You act like you're not one of them, Nova," Kellen said with a chuckle. "You find me just as irresistible as Hermione and this Daphne girl. Come on, admit it…"

Nova gave Kellen a playful swat on the shoulder. "Prat," she whispered with a big grin on her face.

"Oh, and Chelsea? May I speak with you for a moment please? Alone?" asked Kellen earnestly.

"Sure, Grimseth. What's up?" Chelsea replied, as she followed Kellen to a quieter part of the great hall.

He looked into Chelsea's grey eyes. "I need for you to promise me something, Chelsea… it's important," pleaded Kellen.

Chelsea nodded. "All right, what do you have in mind?" she asked softly.

"I need you to promise me that you won't mention Harry in your correspondence with Daphne," replied Kellen. "I've been going out of my way not to mention him in my letters with Hermione… I just don't think it's a good idea that they should know that he's here. I just don't want word to spread there… only a couple of professors know that he's here, and I want to keep it that way. Let's just say that if too many people at Hogwarts know that he's here at Ilvermorny, it could be disastrous."

"I trust your judgement, Kellen," replied Chelsea. "You really care about Harry… that much is obvious. I'll refrain from mentioning Harry." She then arched an eyebrow. "What if Hermione figures out who he is at the dance? What will you do then?"

"Thank you, Chelsea," replied Kellen sincerely. "You know how much Harry means to me… he' s not just my best friend, he's my foster brother. I can't let anything happen to him." He then smirked. "I'll let Professor Goode handle that… I'm sure that she can be… erm, persuasive."

Chelsea offered Kellen a smile. "Oh, I quite vividly remember how protective you were of Potter when we first met on the train! He had it rather rough back in Great Britain, didn't he?"

Kellen returned a wistful smile. "He deserves every friend in the world. Thank you for being good to him, by the way. It means a lot to me." He gestured to the Horned Serpent table. "Shall we return to our breakfast table?"

"Yes, please," replied Chelsea. They rejoined their friends at the Horned Serpent table to finish their respective breakfasts. It didn't take long for everyone to clean their plates.

"Well, I wish you three the best of luck today," Chelsea said as she got up from the table. She smirked. "Well, not too much luck, at least. The Thunderbirds are due for a big win, I think."

Later that morning, the Horned Serpents and Thunderbirds took the field. It was the coldest game yet – snowflakes were falling, and the wind was a bit of a factor as well. The students and faculty bravely packed the stands, with nearly everyone bundled in scarves, overcoats, and mittens. Even Kellen, who was not fazed by the cold, bunded up a fair bit. He sat next to Chelsea and Alexander, as all of his other friends were flying around on broomsticks. It was a bit awkward as whenever Kellen cheered, his Thunderbird friends groaned, and vice versa.

It was a very tight game, with neither team getting much of an advantage. After a half hour, the score was 90-70 in favor of the Horned Serpents. Ana once again had done a terrific job of deflecting the bludgers, but with the snowfall becoming heavier, it became increasingly apparent that Harry had to find the golden snitch soon… he certainly didn't want to spent hours in inclement weather.

He zoomed around the pitch, keeping his head on a swivel, frantically looking for the little golden orb, when suddenly he spotted it behind Mitch Huber. He took off as quick as his broom stick would let him, and waited for just the right moment to snag it. He stretched out his right hand as he gradually closed the gap between himself and the snitch, then BOOM! A rogue bludger pelted him on the right shoulder.

The force of the bludger thankfully did not knock him off his broom, but it did cause him to spiral towards the ground. He crash-landed on the pitch and clutched his shoulder with his left hand. He grimaced in pain – although he wasn't badly hurt, he was definitely shaken up a bit and thought about perhaps visiting the infirmary as a precaution. He then started to dry heave all of a sudden… a few seconds later, the dry heaving gave way to full vomiting – he upchucked the golden snitch! As the stadium erupted with cheers and applause, he collapsed on the ground, exhausted.

"Well done again, Harry," Ana squeaked as she gave him a peck on the forehead. "You took quite a hit to your shoulder, but Mister Croom should have a potion that should help with the swelling and pain. You should be fine."

"I'm definitely tired, and I'm definitely sore," agreed Harry. "I think some rest in my own bed would be a lot better than spending the night in the infirmary!"

Mister Croom came over to administer a painkilling potion to Harry. The usually serious quidditch coach flashed a rare grin. "All right, Mister Potter. You have a penchant for dramatic finishes, I see. Here, take a swig of this… it's not particularly tasty, but it'll help with the swelling. You should be good as new by Monday."

Harry gratefully gulped a few drops of the painkilling potion, and within a minute, was back on his feet. He walked back to the castle with his friends, and got a quick shower and changed into comfortable personal clothes. He stayed in his dorm the rest of the day to rest up. He cast a silencing charm on his four-poster so that he wouldn't be disturbed.

After a bit of a nap, he awoke fresh and a little less sore than when he was earlier. His shoulder was a still a little swollen and a bit purplish, but he figured it was better than what it could have been without that potion. He went downstairs to join his housemates for dinner, where he was heartily congratulated by his teammates and friends. Even Chelsea and Alexander were happy for Harry.

"Wow, Potter," Chelsea exclaimed. "I didn't think it was possible to barf up a snitch like that… I'm not going to lie, it was kind of hard to watch!"

"You thought it was hard to watch?" chuckled Harry. "Try being the one actually throwing it up! Trust me, it's even more uncomfortable than it looked."

"How's your shoulder feeling?" Ana asked. "You took quite the hit there…"

"It's a bit better already, thankfully," replied Harry. "It's still a bit on the sore side, but I can at least move it around. I'd imagine that a full night's worth of sleep would help tremendously."

"I'm glad to hear that, Harry," Ana said. "After what happened to Nova just before Christmas, I didn't want the same thing to happen to you… but if it's any consolation, that was just a rogue bludger and nobody intended to actually hurt you with it."

"Yes, I'm glad nobody intended to harm me this time," agreed Harry. "But getting whacked like that's certainly no fun… as I'm sure Nova knows from experience!"

"Oh, I've gotten whacked by a bludger or two in my time, Harry," giggled Nova. "They aren't fun, but it's just part of the game. You just get used to it… more or less," she added with a shrug.

The next morning, Imogen dropped Kellen off a note from Hermione while he was having breakfast with his friends. He eagerly opened the envelope and read the tender, loopy handwriting that he'd become quite accustomed to reading over the past couple of months:

"Sunday, January 19th, 1992

Dear Kellen,

I'm glad you liked the book! I was really hoping it was one you haven't read yet... I guess I got lucky there! If you'd like to provide me a list of titles that interest you, I'll gladly send what I can for your birthday or Christmas.

Oh, I'm glad to know that I can wear my Muggle dress clothes to the dance. I don't have anything fancy like an evening gown, but I highly doubt most first and second year students would wear something that formal anyway.

I hope you did well at the Quiz Bowl! I rather wish we had something like that at Hogwarts, it's all about Quidditch here - not that there's anything wrong with that per se, but there really should be more extracurricular activities at Hogwarts than playing field hockey on broomsticks...

Oh, my friend Daphne has a new pen pal from Ilvermorny. Her name is Chelsea Meservey... do you know her? I showed Daphne your pictures... and let's just stay that she's developed a bit of a crush on you! I think she was slightly disappointed that her pen pal isn't a cute boy from Ilvermorny, but I'm sure Chelsea is plenty delightful in her own right!

I can't wait to hear back from you. Your letters always brighten my day.

Love,

Hermione"

"So, what did that cute little witch friend of yours say this time, Sandy?" giggled Nova.

"Well, she was relieved that the book she gave me for Christmas was one I haven't read, so now she wants me to think of some titles for next time," replied Kellen. "My birthday is about three weeks away, so I need to write her back tonight!"

"Oh wow, I didn't know your birthday was coming up," replied Nova. "I'll definitely do something nice for you."

"And you know I'd never forget your birthday," added Ana. "You're one of my best friends."