Lance sat on the edge of his bed gazing out the window at the hillside. It was the very start of autumn and the leaves were just beginning to show signs of the coming change. The breeze had shifted, blowing a cool crispness into the room that he breathed in deeply. Lance didn't know what the air was going to smell like in Scotland, but he knew it would never smell like this. How could it? The memories tied to this light autumn breeze could never be matched.
With a sigh, he looked over the horizon. There were some overly excited first years wandering the grounds hopelessly lost, a stray overachiever or two struggling with their stack of books, and a group of students from all four houses gathered by the quidditch pitch. Tryouts for the house teams were scheduled for next week and they were likely running practice drills, getting ready to take the place of players who had graduated … or were transferring overseas.
Watching them, it hit Lance that he wouldn't be Thunderbird's top Beater this year. One of those hopefuls on the pitch was likely going to take his place. The thought hurt. Everything about this hurt.
Soon, one of the pukwudgies would come and say it was time to go. Time to leave one of his favourite places on Earth, time to leave his friends, time to leave everything . It just wasn't fair. His whole family was excited about the move, and his dad was certainly going to be making a lot more money, but Lance didn't understand why he had to leave. Ilvermorny was a boarding school, couldn't he just stay here?
He could totally stay here. His parents were being unreasonable. He could easily just fly to London, then use the floo network to travel to their new home for the holidays. If NoMaj kids could fly alone, certainly Lance would be just fine; how hard could it be?
How was going to school in Scotland any different than going to school in Massachusetts? He'd still be far away and living in the dorms, so why did it matter what continent he was on? Lance didn't want to go to Hogwarts. He didn't want to make new friends. And he didn't want to move to cold, rainy Scotland.
Flopping backwards on his bed, he let out a heavy sigh. This sucked. Everything about it sucked. His parents sucked, MACUSA sucked, the Ministry of Magic sucked, Hogwarts sucked, and Lance sucked for not being able to worm his way out of it. He tried. He thought that maybe if he were already here, they'd be more inclined to let him stay for the year. He presented a solid argument for why it was totally reasonable, he even tried to strike a deal with his parents, but they weren't having it. The whole family was moving and that, unfortunately, had to include Lance. He only attended one week of classes at Ilvermorny before being called away.
Blue climbed up on his chest and settled in, tail wrapping around the top of Lance's left thigh. He smiled down at the grey iguana and began slowly stroking her back. Everything Lance owned was shoved into trunks waiting in the front entrance of the school, but Blue was the last to be packed up. He knew his little buddy would want to wander around before being stuffed in her cage. Not that there was anything wrong with her cage. In fact, Blue loved her cage; maybe a little too much since it was hard to coax her out sometimes.
What appeared to anyone as an old tin lunchbox from the nineteen-eighties decorated with a colourful space robot, was actually an enclosure the size of a small apartment. It had a jungle in one room and a beach in another, complete with lapping waves and hot baking sunshine. All concealed with an undetectable extension charm. Lance's own handiwork. It had taken him months to perfect all the charms involved but Blue's habitat had earned him an A in the class, so it was well worth it. Professor Ryner had been so impressed with his work that he'd quickly become her favourite student.
Now he would be starting from scratch. All the favour he'd accumulated with his professors; gone. All the hard work he'd done to carve himself out a place at the forefront of his year; gone. Everything he'd ever worked for; gone. In the blink of an eye.
"Hey, man. Ready to go?" Miguel's voice floated in through the open door and Lance sighed heavily as he sat back up. "Professor Iverson said to make sure you were all set."
Tyler, Sam, and Miguel walked into Lance's small dorm room, the latter taking a seat on the bed next to him. He looked around at them; two young men he'd met after coming to Ilvermorny six years ago, and his childhood best friend. It had been Lance that created their quartet. He'd made it his mission that first year to make as many new friends as possible and, six years later, Tyler and Sam had stuck around. He wondered briefly who'd they'd replace him with, but the thought left his mind just as quickly as it had formed.
They could add a new friend to their group, bring the number back up to four, but that person wouldn't really be replacing him. Besides, it was no different than Lance making new friends at Hogwarts. He just hoped they didn't grow apart.
"This summer, when school's out, we should all spend a week at my place in Havana," Miguel said as if reading Lance's mind. "We can fill you in on everything you'll miss this year and you can tell us all about Hogwarts."
"There won't be anything to tell," Tyler jumped in, "cause he's going to send us owls every week, right Lance?"
"Pfft," Sam snorted before he even had a chance to reply, "Lance? Running out of things to say? You're hilarious."
They laughed and joked and teased each other for a few hours, until finally, one of the pukwudgies came to retrieve him.
His friends parted with a final hug, heading off to the dining hall for dinner as Lance was escorted to the edge of Ilvermorny's enchanted grounds. He turned to take one last look at the school, rising from the swirling mists on the Massachusetts hillside, before stepping across the barrier and watching it vanish from sight.
It was weird to be on the Hogwarts express in a different school's uniform. His parents had already purchased his new supplies, however, they'd sent them directly to Hogwarts to be placed in his room once he'd been sorted.
That was something that intrigued Lance; the sorting. Ilvermorny had been modelled after Hogwarts and he was curious to see how different the sorting ceremony and houses were at the much older school. His old house, Thunderbird, was about freedom and adventure. A Thunderbird was powerful and commanding and the house was said to represent the soul of a wizard. Lance's soul craved adventure and greatness, maybe if he looked at this as a new chapter in his life - a new school to conquer, a new challenge to overcome - then maybe he could make the most of it.
The small body sleeping on the bench across from him stirred, snorted loudly, and went right back to snoring. Rachel looked up from her book to stare at the figure skeptically, scooting further away by an inch or two.
Maybe looking at the positive was a good idea right now. So what were the positives?
For starters, the school year at Hogwarts had been delayed a week due to an uncontrolled growth of magically enhanced Kudzu that had taken over the entire rear exterior of the castle after escaping the greenhouses. It left thousands of students stuck at home for another week, but Lance had taken full advantage of the situation. He'd convinced his parents to let him spend the week at his beloved Ilvermorny, saying a final goodbye to all his friends.
Speaking of Ilvermorny, the incredibly-amazing-and-clearly-best-wizarding-school had a very similar curriculum structure as Hogwarts. Because Lance had already completed his O.W.L.s as a fifth year, he didn't have to drop down a level due to the transfer.
And lastly, none of his new teachers would've taught Lance's older siblings. He was getting a fresh, clean start at Hogwarts. No having to live up to perfect Veronica's reputation, no having to make up for troublemaker Marco's track record, no having to prove he was just as good as all-star Luis on the quidditch pitch, and no having to watch over Rachel … actually, he probably still had to do that one.
All in all, as hard as this move was, there were positives. Lance just had to remind himself of that and everything would be fine - he hoped.
A knock on their cabin door snagged Lance's attention and he watched it slide open. A large boy in black and yellow robes filled the entrance.
"Hey, man, mind if I join you? I got kicked out of my car." He looked embarrassed about having to ask but was already stepping inside, not bothering to wait for Lance's response. At first, it looked like he was just going to sit on top of Rachel before he noticed her and jumped across the car, clearly startled.
Lance chuckled and pointed to the empty space on the bench beside him, "No problem, my dude, take a seat. I'm Lance by the way, and that's my sister, Rachel." He offered his hand and the big guy took it, shaking with a firm (but sweaty) grip.
"Hunk." He smiled at them both. Hunk nodded his head over towards the girl sound asleep on the opposite bench and added, "Should have known she'd be hiding in the last place we looked."
"You know her?" Rachel asked.
"Yeah, yeah, that's Pidge. She's my best friend. A little rough around the edges but you get used to it." Hunk smiled fondly at the curled-up student.
"Are you both in the same house?" Lance inquired excitedly, ready to segue into a topic he was desperate to know more about.
"No, she's a Ravenclaw and I'm in Hufflepuff, but we've known each other since our first year when we teamed up for a project. Been best buddies ever since."
"How come you weren't sitting together then?" Rachel asked, curiosity getting the better of her.
"She likes to sleep on the train and our cabin is usually loud. I was sitting with my girlfriend Shay, her brother Rax, and our friend, Keith. But I got kicked out for puking up the remains of my mom's homemade pork sandwich on Keith's robes … twice."
Despite himself, Lance laughed openly. He'd been wound so tight this last week, knowing he'd be leaving his friends and school, that he quickly found himself completely falling apart at the image of some poor sap covered in half-digested pork and bread.
"Oh man, that must have been so gross! " he wheezed, hands coming to rest on his belly as his head hit the back of the bench. " Ay, hombre , I can just imagine it! Once, one of the pukwudgies got mad at my buddy, Miguel, and shot him in the butt-cheek with a poison arrow. He had to spend three days in the hospital wing having the poison sucked out by enchanted leeches. The smell of the healing balm clung to him for weeks! "
Hunk laughed, sharing another story of his own and, before Lance knew it, they'd gone back and forth several times, tears of laughter prickling at the edges of their eyes as Rachel turned back to her book in disgust. The conversation between them flowed naturally and Lance felt comfortable in the boy's presence, free to relax and enjoy each other's company.
A lady poked her head in the car to let them know the train would arrive at Hogsmeade village soon and he smiled his thanks. The closing of the car door had woken up Pidge who wasted no time with pleasantries, immediately commenting on Lance and Rachel's robes.
"Ilvermorny started a week ago," he'd explained, "so we came to King's Cross station straight from the school." The mention of his old school opened up a new line of questions, one Lance was more than happy to answer.
He boasted about the campus, the houses, the professors, his friends, and even the grounds where Ilvermorny was built, being sure to touch on the rich and thrilling history of the school. Rachel hated the attention and sank back into her book, only piping up to correct something Lance had over-exaggerated. But Pidge was enraptured by his tales, eagerly soaking up every morsel of information he gave, and Hunk also seemed genuinely interested. Lance could talk for hours, especially about himself and topics he cared about, but soon enough they pulled into their destination and three other students came to retrieve his new friends.
Two looked very similar to one another, clearly siblings, and the other was a grumpy-looking boy with shaggy black hair and a fierce glare. He leaned half in the door frame with his arms folded and his head aimed down, scowling at the carpet of their train car.
"Lance, this is Rax and my girlfriend, Shay," Hunk explained, a wide smile on his face, "and this is our friend, Keith."
"The one you puked on?" Lance clarified and Keith's scowl moved up from the carpet to Hunk, before turning on Lance, blasting him with the full intensity of it.
Hunk snickered but Lance was absorbed by this boy's face. He was gorgeous. Flawlessly pale skin with soft, plump lips and eyes a breathtaking shade of purple. They sparkled from inside the slits they'd been reduced to as Keith held his glare. Lance had to give him props for dedication. His robes were black, like all the other Hogwarts robes, but where Hunk had yellow and Pidge had blue, Keith's had a rich crimson. The colour worked really well with his skin tone.
"It's nice to meet you." Lance smiled, holding out his hand and receiving nothing but a raised eyebrow in return.
"Oh, just ignore grumpy-puss over here, he's still sore cause he's all stinky now," the girl, Shay, explained, eagerly moving past his outstretched hand to wrap Lance in a hug. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Lance. Hope to see you in Hufflepuff."
Her smile was warm and inviting, he could see why Hunk was so smitten. And smitten he clearly was; the large boy was still smiling dopily at her from beside Pidge. Lance noticed Keith's eyes follow his line of sight to land on Hunk as well, and he did not miss the fond smile that cracked through his scowl - however brief.
Lance stepped off the train and onto an old cobblestone platform, Rachel hot on his heels with her nose still buried in her book. Students in black robes disembarked all around him, some paying him no mind, others quirking a brow at their blue and cranberry robes. Lance smiled brightly at them, proud of his old school's colours and wanting to seem friendly and approachable. These students could be his classmates, housemates, maybe even friends. A good first impression was key.
He tried to spot Pidge or Hunk in the crowd but, unfortunately, he'd already lost them. Students jostled him about, pushing and shoving as they tried to get around him, but Lance had no idea where to go. Did he follow the mass of students heading for what looked like stables? Did he wait to be retrieved and ushered to the school with the first-years?
"First-years, to the boats!" A man with a bright orange mustache hollered and Lance decided to head over to him. At the very least he might have an idea where to direct them.
"Um, excuse me, sir," he asked, plastering his winning smile back in place, "my name is Lance, and this is my sister Rachel, we're transfer students from Ilvermonry and I'm not sure where we're supposed to go."
"Ahh, I'd nearly forgotten about you, my lad." the man replied. "Stay close, you need to be sorted so you'll be entering the school with the first-years."
Lance nodded and joined the group, dragging Rachel along.
After several chaotic minutes, a snicker drew his attention back to the train. Standing off to the side was Grumpy-Puss in all his glory.
"Bit old for a first-year, don't you think?" Keith teased, but Lance saw the grin tugging at his lip and the challenge glinting in his eyes. He smiled broadly in return, dialling up the charisma to eleven.
"Someone's gotta keep an eye on them. Wouldn't want anyone to fall in the lake."
Keith snorted and rolled his eyes. "Sure, whatever you say," he said with the faint hint of a smirk. "Just be sure to keep your limbs in the boat, the giant squid might wrap a tentacle around your wrist and …" Keith made a yanking motion, followed by a splashing sound and some half-hearted imitation drowning, all the while remaining distant and aloof. Lance scowled at him. Some of the first-years (who had been attentively listening) screamed and panicked, rushing further away from the dock's edge, and Keith laughed heartily at his little joke. Lance rolled his eyes.
He was about to calm the younger students and assure them there was no giant squid in the lake but the Moustache-man returned, ushering Keith away and sending him off towards the carriages with the rest of his peers. Which left Lance to a literal boatload of terrified children. And his sister.
"Now, what's all that about the lake?" the Professor asked and one of the first-years retold the story, albeit slightly more exaggerated than Keith had originally said it. "Oh hogwash, the giant squid is as friendly as a Yorkie," he assured, but all Lance heard was the confirmation that there really was a giant squid in the lake.
He peered down cautiously into the murky depths. Did something just move? Dios Mio , they didn't have a giant evil lake filled with giant evil creatures at his old school. Lance swallowed as the Moustache-man continued. "You listen to ol' Coran, Squidly wouldn't hurt a soul … well he does eat the fish, but he's been known to save students who fall into the lake. It's those pesky grindylows you need to watch out for. Nasty little buggers."
Squidly? Lance stifled his snicker (and pointedly ignored the mention of grindylows).
Lance had done his research. Well, some of it. Okay, Rachel had done her research and Lance had gently prodded her for information.
She'd spent the first three days of the school year signing out books from the Ilvermorny library, hoping to read as much about Hogwarts as possible and Lance wanted to know the important bits, a cliff's notes version if you will. It was totally reasonable for a first-year to be lost, but Lance didn't look like a first-year and he knew the other students may not cut him much slack. So he'd drawn Rachel into a Hogwarts-themed trivia game. He knew she wouldn't be able to resist showing off her knowledge and though it wasn't exactly his idea of a good time it had proven much faster than actually doing the reading himself. After all, he was a Thunderbird, not a Horned Serpent like his sister.
But he had been left with a semi-decent idea of what to expect. He knew Hogwarts was a castle. He knew about the lake (but apparently not what was in it). He knew about the four houses and the characteristics they valued. He also knew about the enchantment on the Great Hall's ceiling. And he knew the main points of the school's history; the good and the bad. He'd stopped listening after a few days, having wasted too much of his precious final week at Ilvermorny, so there were still large gaps in his knowledge. But Lance was sure he'd pick it up quickly. Besides, not knowing was more fun. What kind of Thunderbird would he be if he turned down the adventure of touring an ancient castle and unlocking its secrets?
Based on what he had learned though, Lance was familiar enough with the houses and how they worked to be exceptionally excited about the sorting. He didn't care what colours he'd end up wearing (he could pull off any of the four), and he didn't care where his dorms were located, what he did care about was the process Hogwarts used. The old books lacked detailed information about the ceremony, and all he'd been able to gather was it had something to do with the four founders and an old hat. Dios, that could mean anything! He couldn't even ask his parents or siblings on account of Lance and Rachel being the first members of their family to attend Hogwarts since his great-great-great-grandfather McClain left Scotland for Cuba.
Lance was practically vibrating out of his cloak with excitement as the grand doors opened and they (along with a slew of first-years a good head shorter than him) were guided into the Great Hall of Hogwarts.
Immediately, Lance was overwhelmed with the majesty of the stone walls, lit by thousands of softly glowing candles floating in the air, and the crystal clear night sky visibly projected above it all. It was breathtaking.
The song, on the other hand, not so much.
A choir was standing on the steps at the front of the hall cradling large toads as they sang what could only be described as the worst school anthem Lance had ever heard.
Hogwarts, Hogwarts, Hoggy Warty Hogwarts,
Teach us something, please …
Lance blushed to himself, he really hoped Miguel and the guys didn't make him sing his new school song if he was allowed to visit this summer. He'd never live it down.
As they approached, the choir finished their song and quickly took their seats, dispersing amongst the four long tables in the room. Now that he looked, each table had many students but only one colour accenting their black robes. Against the far left wall were green robes, with blue at the next table, then red, and lastly yellow along the other wall. The four tables were running lengthwise in the hall, with all of their students turned on their benches towards a large dais.
Coran led their group down the middle aisle, between the blue and red tables, and Lance heard some of the students whispering about them. "Who are they?", "Why are their robes different?", "They don't look like first-years", and so on. Lance loved being the center of attention, but he could feel their scrutiny making Rachel nervous.
"Welcome, new students. The start-of-term banquet will begin shortly," a stern-looking man announced when their group finally reached the stone steps. "Before you take your seats in the Great Hall, you must be sorted into your houses. The Sorting is a very important ceremony because, while you are here, your house will be something like your family. Your achievements are your house's achievements and your losses; your house's losses. Do well, study hard, and earn your house points to hopefully claim the coveted House Cup."
Cheers and applause rang out across the room, some students banging their hands on their house table or whistling in excitement, all in the name of creating as much noise as possible. The professors at the long table against the back wall of the dais clapped respectfully and the severe man raised his arms as he waited for the room to settle before continuing.
"One last thing before we begin the sorting. Mairead O'Reilly," he called and Lance turned around to see a beautiful girl seated against the wall nervously rise, "Five points to Hufflepuff for helping Madam Barker clean up the snacks from the spilled trolley." A round of applause swept through the room but the stern man was not finished. "Keith Kogane," he called and this time Lance watched Grumpy-Puss rise to his feet from the red table. "Five points from Gryffindor for traumatizing the first-years."
Lance snorted at the boy's look of shock and disbelief, perhaps a little too loudly as Keith's harsh gaze quickly fell on him. As did the rest of his table. And the other tables. Mierda, Lance was not off to a great start making friends.
As Keith sat down, narrowed eyes still glaring holes into Lance's skull, Lance turned back to the front to see the headmaster return to his seat. At the top of the steps now sat a dusty old hat that had been placed on a rickety wooden stool. This was it! This was the moment he'd been waiting for!
The room was dead silent, not a soul made any sounds, and Lance found he was quite literally holding his breath. Suddenly, without any warning, the dusty old hat burst into song.
Nearly two thousand years have gone by,
Still, the great school of Hogwarts will try,
To foster the growth of young minds,
For the betterment of wizardkind.
You think you know your own destiny,
But no hat is near as smart as me,
I will take a peek inside your head,
To see the house that will hold your bed.
Perhaps in Gryffindor, you belong,
They favour the brave, daring, and strong,
Or try your luck with wise Ravenclaw,
Their knowledge and logic know no flaw.
Loyal Hufflepuff; patient and true,
They will surely take good care of you,
Ambitious Slytherin helps indeed,
For cunning folk who aim to succeed.
Just trust in me to know what is best,
Put me on and I will do the rest.
No matter where I may find your place,
The future is now yours to embrace.
While the words were informative and poetic, the tune was just awful. Lance cringed as the hat's song grated on his eardrums. Thankfully, it ended and a slender woman with Alchemy markings made her way to the podium. She held high a rolled-up scroll of parchment and cleared her throat.
"Adriana Abblett," she called without preamble, and a tiny girl with red hair stepped forward, shakily making her way up the steps to take a seat on the stool. The hat was placed on her head and after approximately a minute of silence, it bellowed "Gryffindor!" at a shockingly loud volume.
"Zachary Bobbet," a skinny boy with freckles stepped up, the hat barely grazing his head as it shouted "Ravenclaw!" and he excitedly bounced to the blue table.
More and more of the first-year students were called, and Lance watched their numbers dwindle until there were finally only three of them left at the bottom of the steps.
"Leah Zafrie," the Professor announced and the last first year went to take her seat on the stool. The hat sat upon her head for a minute, which seemed to be the average length of time, before shouting "Gryffindor!" and the excited girl nearly tripped over her own robes as she rushed to her new house table.
"That concludes the sorting of our first-year students. This year we have two transfer students, a fourth-year and a sixth-year, joining us from Ilvermorny School of Witchcraft and Wizardry in Massachusetts, North America." She paused for the round of applause from the tables behind them, as well as the teachers at the head table, before continuing. "Rachel McClain, if you would please take your seat under the sorting hat." She gestured towards the stool and Lance watched as Rachel climbed the steps.
As with the first years, the dusty hat was on her head no longer than a minute before it shouted out "Ravenclaw!" and she calmly made her way to the blue table.
"Lance McClain," The woman called and he took a deep breath. This was it, his turn to be sorted into a Hogwarts house. His hands were sweating at his sides as he climbed the steps and his heart pounded in his chest when she placed the sorting hat on his head. From this stool, he could see the whole of the Great Hall and all the students seated at their house tables. Every set of eyes was on him, curiously taking him in and suddenly Lance felt the overwhelming need to prove himself to these people. He was sitting here, in Hogwarts, wearing the navy and cranberry robes of his beloved Ilvermorny and he could feel their watchful gazes.
His eyes roamed the room, landing on a large boy subtly waving to him from the yellow table and Lance smiled. He offered a small wave back to his friend.
" Is it Hufflepuff you wish to join?" said a voice in his head and Lance physically jumped, squawking in surprise as he nearly fell off the stool. He heard the students laughing, but chose to focus on the hat. The apparently telepathic hat.
I don't know , Lance thought.
" What is it you wish to achieve here at Hogwarts?" the hat asked and Lance had to pause. What did he want to achieve?
He wanted to prove that, even though he'd gone to a different school, he was just as capable as everyone else here, maybe more so if you considered how well he'd been doing. He wanted to make new friends here and learn as much as he could. He wanted to feel like he belonged at this school, even though he didn't feel like it at the moment. He wanted to be successful and create a name for himself. He wanted to make his family proud. But most importantly, Lance wanted to make himself proud. He wanted to graduate from this school feeling like he was ready to take the world by storm and he'd do whatever it took to achieve those goals and walk out of Hogwarts proud of his own accomplishments.
"Slytherin!" the hat bellowed into the room. The green table jumped to their feet cheering and clapping for him. Their enthusiasm warmed Lance's heart and he smiled broadly at his new house. Grumpy-Puss was scowling at him from the red table, and Hunk looked disappointed, but the green table just kept cheering. Lance plastered on his winning smile and shot his signature finger-guns to his new housemates with a wink, hopping down from the stool as gracefully as possible.
"Hola, mis amigos!" he said, taking a seat next to a handsome young man with long white hair. "The name's Lance," he greeted, extending his hand and receiving a firm shake in return.
"Lotor Daibazaal," the young man replied, quirking a brow. His smile stretched across his flawless face and a honey-smooth voice said, "McClain, right?"
Lance nodded.
"And you transferred from Ilvermorny? Interesting, you must tell us all about it. The Hogwarts library unfortunately does not have much information on the wizarding schools outside of Europe. Where in North America are you from?"
"Oh, I'm actually from Cuba," Lance explained.
"Then why not go to Castelobruxo?" another student asked, jumping into their conversation.
"Cuba falls under MACUSA law, so we attend Ilvermorny."
"Fascinating. And what is your mother's family name?" Lotor continued.
The question seemed odd but ultimately harmless so Lance answered with a shrug, "Delgado." The other's faces morphed into even larger smiles.
"Both pureblood names," Lotor commented, the other boy nodding along, "welcome to Slytherin house, McClain. We're glad to have you."
"Thanks!" Lance returned the smile. "Glad to be here!"
"Right, then," the headmaster announced, pulling Lance's attention back to the front of the Great Hall. "Let the feast begin!"
At his words, the tables exploded with perfectly cooked food. Lance had not realized how hungry he was until the smell of it wafted around him.
After the feast, Lance joined the rest of the Slytherins as the students filed out of the Great Hall, each house heading in the direction of their dormitories. Through Rachel's research, he'd learned that both Gryffindor and Ravenclaw were located in towers (far apart from one another), while Hufflepuff was in a basement somewhere close to the kitchens, and Slytherin was partially located under the Black Lake near the dungeons.
Which, honestly, so cool! Sure, Ilvermorny was a castle in its own right, but Hogwarts was an actual castle, built well over two thousand years ago with proper stone stairwells, beautiful architecture, and an actual dungeon! Lance loved the water, he loved oceans and lakes and rivers. Anybody of water bigger than a puddle, really. And while he'd never admit to it (he had an image to maintain after all), he did enjoy jumping in the occasional puddle. So, the prospect of living in an actual castle's actual dungeon below an actual lake with an actual sea monster was too good to resist. Lance couldn't wait to tell his friends about this!
As he walked the cool, stone corridors with his housemates in excited anticipation, Lance's trepidation melted away at each step, replaced instead with fervourous enthusiasm. He took in the bare stone walls and dimly lit sconces of the incredibly long hallway; nothing but a single door at the end. The door didn't look very big, no larger than a small closet, but he didn't think much of it. There were plenty of ways to conceal a large space behind a small door. It was clever, really! A small, unassuming door such as this at the end of a long, dark hallway was exactly the type of thing most other students would think to be a storage room, a closet, a supply room, perhaps even an old dungeon chamber. They'd probably walk far enough down, realize there was nothing else here, and turn back in annoyance. He smiled to himself at the thought of Grumpy-Puss trying to play another trick on him only to turn around as he -
SMACK
- Lance quickly apologized to the first year he'd nearly knocked over. The group had come to a sudden stop as one of the house prefects turned to face a blank section of wall, about three-quarters of the way down the hall.
"Thestral," Lotor whispered and Lance watched in disbelief as a large section of stones moved aside to reveal the real entrance to the Slytherin common room. He walked through the opening with the others, the wall sealing behind them, and Lance hoped desperately that the Slytherin common room was as cool as he'd hyped it up in his mind.
It was.
Dios Mio, it really was.
Lance stood at the top of the small landing, looking down at the rest of the common room. It was magnificent. Stone walls lined with silver and green tapestries, a stone ceiling from which round lamps hung on chains, and a polished stone floor glistening in the low light. Along two of the walls were several giant panes of thick glass revealing the dark waters of the Black Lake beyond and casting a green glow across the entire room.
The large room was full of dark green and black leather furniture positioned sporadically in no discernible pattern. There were two large couches that faced an ornately carved stone fireplace, and an even larger horseshoe couch that sat facing one of the lake-view windows. Various tables with low-backed chairs sat against the walls where some of the older students had already begun to settle with their books.
The Slytherin common room felt elevated, despite being in the school's dungeons. It had an air of wealth and high society about it. A fire crackled to life in the majestic stone hearth and the students' shoes clicked across the perfectly polished stone floor. It was a far cry from the sun-warmed, wooden dorm towers he was accustomed to at Ilvermorny, but Lance loved it. He absolutely loved it.
"First-years, and McClain," Lotor called out, "come gather by the fireplace. We have a few quick announcements to go through before you can check out your dorms."
The new students made their way over to his commanding presence, some taking a seat on the couches while others sat on the green Persian rug. A pretty blonde girl moved to stand at Lotor's side in front of the fireplace and she greeted the students, her voice sweet like bells. "Welcome to Slytherin House first-years! My name is Nyma, and this is Lotor, we are your seventh-year prefects; Head Girl and Head Boy, actually. If you have questions, you can come to us, or one of the other prefects, at any time."
"Before we leave you to explore, there are a few things we need to address," Lotor added. "First, under no circumstances are you to invite a student from any of the other houses into the Slytherin dorms. No outsider has entered the common room for more than seventeen centuries and we want to keep it that way."
"The current password is 'Thestral' and it does change every fortnight." Nyma continued. "Be sure to check the bulletin board by the main entrance to find the latest password. The password may also change at a moment's notice should there be a risk to the common room's security."
"Part of what makes Slytherin House so powerful is our air of mystery," Lotor picked back up. "The other houses, while also password protected, do not afford their common room the same level of reverence as we Slytherins do. It sets us apart from the other houses, and they are constantly clambering over one another to get a peek inside."
"But most importantly," Nyma said, pausing for effect and making pointed eye contact with several of the newcomers, "Slytherin is about brotherhood and sisterhood. We Slytherins look out for our own."
"Which is why, if you can't find one of us prefects, you can always go to any fellow Slytherin. It sounds cheesy but we really are a family down here." Lotor finished with a smile.
Lance smiled back. It was nice to feel a sense of belonging and just knowing that these people had his back allowed him to relax, letting some of the nervous energy slip from his body.
"Now, for the nitty-gritty …"
The announcements continued for several long minutes, the two prefects going over the rules of the school and where important rooms could be found. Lance listened attentively until something in the lake caught his attention. Were there merpeople in the Black Lake? That would be way too cool! He couldn't wait to tell the guys about this too.
Before he knew it, they were being dismissed. Lance made his way down a stone corridor to the far left of the large common room, walking much further down than the first-years. It was the hall that housed the boy's dorms, with a matching hall for the girl's dorms on the other side of the common room. Several wooden doors lined these halls and a large window looking into the Black Lake adorned the far wall at the end, a leather seated bench below for reading.
Lance located his assigned dorm (the eighth door on the left) and opened it to find three beds, three dressers, and three desks. All of his trunks were piled neatly in one of the alcoves below the large porthole window. His school books had already been arranged on the shelving unit beside the dresser, and a folded set of robes had been placed on the foot of the accompanying bed.
Like the rest of the Slytherin dormitory, the bedrooms were lined with grey stone walls and a smoothly polished stone floor. A large green rug lay in the middle of the room, reaching just under the foot of each bed. It had the same silver snake adornment as the banners that hung in the common room; clearly the house crest. Blue had made herself at home on the canopy of his four-poster bed, her tail wrapped tightly around one of the posts. Long sheets of green silk draped gracefully to the floor from the tall canopy, likely providing some privacy when drawn closed.
With the dim green light that poured in from the portholes, the cold stone walls and floor, and the precisely placed furnishings, the Slytherin bedrooms felt just as rich and luxurious as the common room had.
He collapsed onto his bed, one foot on the stone floor, and one dangling off the edge of the mattress. The green quilt was soft below him and the case on his pillow felt silky. Lance stared up at the canopy on his bed and listened to the silence of the room. He could hear the water of the lake lapping against the windows and closed his eyes, letting the soothing repetition bring him back to Varadero. Back to the beaches of his home country, the soft sand and hot Cuban sun. The smell of his Mama's cooking, the sound of Silvio and Nadia laughing as they play, and that comfortably familiar feeling of family…
Lance woke up with a start, unaware of his surroundings as strange voices drifted through the haze of sleep. For a moment, however brief, he lay on his back mentally panicking before his brain caught up and realized where he was. The sound of water soothed him as he sat up and took stock of the situation.
On the bed to his right was a boy with dirty blond hair stifling a giggle. A tawny owl sat perched on the stand beside his bed while a baby leopard, or perhaps a small ocelot, watched it with murderous intent.
The feline lay on the bed to the left of Lance's. Sitting behind it was the source of the second voice Lance had heard, a boy with perfectly styled brown hair and a sharp jawline.
His roommates, he assumed.
"Oh, you're awake." The brunette said. "I'm James -"
"Simon" the other cut in with a friendly wave.
"- you're Lance right?"
Lance nodded, yawning deeply as he did so. "Sorry, tired. It's been a long day."
"Cool accent. Where're you from?" Simon asked, adjusting his position to better face Lance. James did the same. "I mean, you kinda sound American, but not really."
"I'm Cuban," He answered. "But I went to school in Massachusetts."
"Ilvermorny?" James asked and Lance nodded, "that explains the robes." There was a brief pause before he spoke again. "What kind of lizard is that?" he pointing up towards the canopy of the bed and Lance smiled.
"Iguana, her name is Blue." He said fondly.
At the mention of her name, Blue slowly crawled down the post of Lance's bed, making her way across the quilt and climbing up his body to drape around his shoulders. Lance reached up and rubbed the top of her head, smiling warmly at his only friend in the whole country.
"I like your … ocelot?" He said and earned a confused look from James and an explosion of laughter from Simon that he hadn't bothered fighting back.
"Dude," Simon giggled, "CAT!"
"What Sy is trying to say is, Bianca's just a cat. A beautiful, majestic, show-worthy, purebred Bengal - but a cat."
"She's stunning," Lance replied, trying to save face. It seemed to work, James preened and stroked the cat's back, cooing about the importance of good breeding and how superior she was to every other cat in the school. Simon snickered into his hand the entire time, shooting Lance the occasional affectionate eye roll.
It was clear that these two boys had been friends for some time already and knew each other quite well. Breaking into established friend groups was hard, but Lance was never one to shy away from a good challenge and with James and Simon as his friends, he just might avoid the awkwardness of being the lost transfer student.
Yes, making friends with his roommates would definitely play to his advantage; one never wants to be on bad terms with a roommate after all. So Lance did what Lance does best, and dialed up the charm.
He smiled brightly at the two boys, straightening his back and running his hands through his hair to flatten the bedhead. "So, what's there to do around here?" He asked.
The two boys exchanged a long, meaningful look before turning to face him. With absolute sincerity, Simon spoke up, "that entirely depends on how you answer this question."
He turned back to James for another heated stare, then back in Lance's direction, James' voice coming to him this time with much the same intensity.
"What is your favourite Quidditch team?"
It took Lance wholly by surprise, he had been expecting something more … more …. Something . He shook the queer look from his face, and thought hard about his favourite team. While he loved playing Quidditch, watching it was something he rarely did. Back in the Americas Quodpot was much more popular. Still, Ilvermorny did have house teams, and they sometimes played against Castelobruxo, and Lance absolutely loved his role as a beater.
What was that local team everyone liked? Lance thought to himself as he stared back at the two expectant faces. "Uh, the Fitchburg Finches?" he finally responded, earning confused looks in response.
"Who?" James asked.
"Doesn't matter! As long as he didn't say those bloody Harpies, then we're good." Simon said as he got up from his bed and walked over to Lance, extending his arm in greeting. Just as Lance was about to take it, he promptly raised his hand out of reach. Simon leveled an over-the-top suspicious glare at Lance, really dialing up the cheese, and asked, "What's your stance on Gryffindor house?"
"Uh," Lance eloquently replied. He suspected this was meant to be more lighthearted, though it was clearly coming from a real place. Reading the room, Lance went with his gut and decided not to take it too seriously. "Well, I've only met one Gryffindor and he was kind of a dick so - screw it, fuck those guys." he answered with a shrug.
"Ahhh, I knew I liked you! Put 'em here!" Simon thrust his arm out, yanking Lance to his feet as he clasped his hand and pulled him into a tight hug. "We're going to get along just fine!"
Lance woke to the sound of gently lapping waves, ready to face his first day at Hogwarts. It was still early but he wanted to get a head start, so he swung his legs over the side of the bed and gasped at the cold stone beneath his bare feet.
After the initial shock wore off, Lance grabbed his towel and headed for the showers. There was a boy's bathroom and a girl's bathroom in the dorms that offered a few toilet stalls and showers. In the center was a stone fountain engraved with the Slytherin serpent. He took a nice relaxing shower, letting the hot water run over his body for several minutes as his expensive conditioner worked its magic. After he was all squeaky clean, Lance got started on his rigorous skincare routine, humming the tune of a catchy dance song he'd heard on the beach that summer. He applied his moisturizer, tousled some mousse into his hair, and headed back to the room.
Lance quickly dressed in his brand new robes, green and black instead of navy and cranberry. He was sad to see the blue go, it had complimented his eyes so nicely. But the crisp black looked good against his skin and he'd be lying if he didn't think the green and silver combo looked sharp. Once dressed, Lance made his way into the hall, closing the heavy wooden door slowly to avoid making any noise.
The first thing he did was settle in at one of the tables scattered around the large common room. He opened up his class schedule and studied it intently, attempting to commit the details to memory. Lance was determined that he would not get lost, he would not look like a fool as he wandered aimlessly through the halls.
He knew James and Simon would be going to the same classes as him for the most part, seeing as all sixth-year Slytherins had their core classes together. But he still had to find his way to the electives. The students had been given a small map of the school which was so rudimentary it was practically useless. He couldn't tell where anything was and none of the house dorms were listed.
Pulling out his wand, Lance recited a few charms that came to mind. First to mark his current location on the map, letting him know where everything was in relation to himself. The second to enhance the labelling of the classrooms, changing them from generic room numbers to the name of the subject taught there. The Third was a navigation charm, to help him map out the quickest route from one spot to the next.
All in all, the charms took him nearly half an hour to perfect but it was all worth it when he looked down at a map that could actually help him get around. The charms wouldn't last forever, in fact, he was pretty certain they'd only last a month before starting to fade, but Lance was determined to know the grounds by heart by then. He stared down at his handiwork and realized something important; this little map could be used to find the Slytherin common room if it ended up in the wrong hands.
Quickly, Lance tugged up his sleeves, pulling out his wand once again and adding a much more complex charm, one that had taken him months to master and was well beyond the skill level of a sixth-year. But charms had always been one of his better subjects. So Lance set to work. He focused hard and worked the spell over and over, layering it to ensure it lasted longer than any of the other charms. He would not be responsible for breaking seventeen hundred years of secrecy.
By the time he was done, Lance had a map that only worked in the hands of a Slytherin student.
Breakfast in the Great Hall had not been what he'd expected. Lance had assumed that all meals would be the same as the feast, maybe not as much food, but definitely segregated by house. He had not been expecting a pretty Hufflepuff girl to plop herself down beside Lotor, or for three Ravenclaw students to sit with some of the Sytherin girls at the end of the table.
Lance sat with Simon and James in the middle of the Slytherin table, against the wall. James mumbled "Porridge" and a hot bowl appeared in front of him with a small cup of milk on the side. He quickly amended his choice to include cinnamon and the powder started sprinkling out of thin air. Lance felt like a No-Maj watching magic for the first time. He was a pure-blood himself and had been raised with magic his whole life, but the way Hogwarts used it was so different from his parent's home in Cuba, or even back at Ilvermorny.
Magic was much more subtle in the Americas. In History of Magic, they'd learned that it was a direct result of the witch hunts. Because of those dark times, the need for secrecy ran deep. It influenced every facet of their lives right down to the way spells were performed. Lance was not used to such overt and flashy displays of magic.
"Full English," Simon's voice pulled him back to reality and Lance stopped staring at James' bowl long enough to see a plate of eggs, bacon, sausages, beans, tomatoes, and mushrooms materialize. Two slices of buttered toast fell on top of the pile, splattering beans across the table. Both Simon and James lifted cups that instantly filled with tea and took satisfying sips as if this were their normal morning routine. And maybe it was!
Lance's stomach growled loudly, the large stone room seeming to amplify the sound. He thought hard about what he wanted but ultimately blurted out the first thing that came to mind. "Classic American?" He asked the room and received a plate with two sunny-side-up eggs, crispy bacon, fried hash brown patties, and a pile of pancakes drizzled in golden maple syrup. Two slices of generously-buttered toast landed on top of it all and his mug filled with a creamy espresso. He could get used to this.
Breakfast went by quickly, the students coming and going from the Great Hall at will, and Lance made his way through the corridors alongside his roommates. They were headed for their first class which was located on the far side of the school, all the way back in the dungeons. It was taught by Professor Blaytz Nalquod, head of Slytherin house, and Lance was especially excited to meet him
He'd been fairly decent at potions back at Ilvermorny, not great, but good enough to pull alright marks. In fact, Lance was a fairly good student all around, most notably with charms and transfiguration where he truly excelled. He'd also earned a reputation for being gifted with runes, however, that was only because his father taught at Euro-Glyph School of Extraordinary Languages in Havana.
Had worked. Past tense. He was now a professor at their London Branch. Hence the move across the pond.
Thanks to his father's passion, Lance had grown up with runes. He'd learned to read and write ancient runic texts before he was even allowed to cast his first spell. Yet, he didn't consider himself particularly gifted with them, just well-versed. So well-versed in fact, that he and Miguel had used runes to enchant notes to each other in NoMaj public school growing up in Cuba before being admitted to Ilvermorny. They'd even used to draw them in the sand on Varadero beach during summer break, gossiping about the tourists without any nosey NoMaj eyes understanding what they wrote.
None of that could happen anymore. Now that Lance's dad had been transferred to the London campus, Lance would be spending his summer at their new family home. But he was going to fix it, he just needed to think of a solution.
Potions at Hogwarts was going to be his worst subject. Lance could feel it in his bones. Professor Nalquod, or Professor Blaytz as he let the Slytherin students call him, was charismatic and brilliant but had high expectations for the students. They'd started off the year by having to brew the Draught of Living Death, an incredibly complex and technically difficult potion. The only one who had managed to create anything even close to correct was Simon.
But that didn't seem to surprise Professor Blaytz. He'd winked at the boy and patted him on the shoulder announcing "five points to Slytherin!". Simon beamed with pride and Lance immediately began thinking of who he could invite to form a study group.
Obviously Simon, but he'd want to round it out with more than just potions, perhaps find some students who were good in other classes Lance may need the extra help with. Not that he would need extra help, but with their NEWT exams looming over their heads for the end of year, it was always wise to maximize your preparatory potential. And study groups were proven to be effective ways to do just that.
Yes, this was a great idea. He'd be sure to keep a close eye on the other students in the rest of his classes, maybe form a complete list by the end of the week.
"Mr. McClain! Do you wish to share with the class whatever it is that seems to be more important than learning how not to kill yourself making potions?" Professor Blaytz calmly chastised, his tone falsely sweet and patient.
Some of the Ravenclaw students snickered under their breath and as the class continued, Lance hung his head diligently and took notes.
Charms had been with the Hufflepuff students. Lance, Simon, and the other Slytherins had to hustle in order to make it from the dungeons up to the third floor in the short allotment of time between classes. When he arrived, there was an open spot beside the big guy from the train and Lance excitedly took the seat.
"Hey, man," he beamed, extending his hand across the distance between them. Hunk stared at him with surprise and other students - both Hufflepuff and Slytherin alike - whispered amongst themselves, staring the pair down. But Lance ignored them and pressed on, he was bound and determined to make as many friends as possible and Hunk seemed like a good fit, "I was hoping we'd have a class together! You don't mind if I sit here, do you?"
Lance smiled his widest, most charming smile and, nervously, Hunk shook his hand. "Uh," he eloquently said, "yeah, I guess that's fine. I was kinda saving it for Shay, but, um, no - it's, yeah, okay, it's fine."
Lance looked at him questioningly, "You sure?" he asked, and Hunk nodded, "¡Bueno! Este es el comienzo de una hermosa amistad. ¡Lo sé! ("Okay! This is the beginning of a beautiful friendship. I know it!)" Lance exclaimed. He threw his arms wide and engulfed his soon-to-be-friend in a hug, feeling the tension melt from his nervous body.
James was looking at him funny, as was Simon, but Lance didn't care. He liked Hunk and having friends outside of his own house could prove useful in the long run.
Their charms professor was an eccentric man. He had bright orange hair with an equally bright orange moustache. Like the woman who spoke during the sorting ceremony, electric blue Alchemy markings rested on Professor Coran Smythe's cheekbones. As head of Ravenclaw house, Lance suspected the man was much more intelligent than his quirky behaviour would suggest.
Once again, charms proved all too easy for Lance. He'd more than made up for any perceived strangeness by earning no less than TWENTY points for Slytherin!
Every time Professor Smythe called for a demonstration, Lance waited for the inevitable silence and when all hope seemed lost when no other students dared to attempt a charm for their first time in front of the entire class, Lance would volunteer.
"Well done, Mr. McClain! Well done, indeed. I daresay, boy, you have a natural affinity for charms. Another five points to Slytherin!"
"Thank you, Professor," Lance graciously smiled back, smirking to James and Simon as he returned to his seat. Potions may have been harder here at Hogwarts, but Lance had charms in the bag.
Next up was transfiguration with the Gryffindors, which was located down on the ground floor. Why the school couldn't arrange their classes in a more convenient order was beyond him. All this going up and down the staircases, running through the corridors, and racing the clock was either going to put Lance in the best shape of his life or absolutely kill him.
Again, Lance proved to be just as talented with transfiguration at Hogwarts as he had been back at Ilvermorny. A few right answers, a successful demonstration, and some insightful questions later, Lance had earned an additional ten points for Slytherin. The Gryffindors roared and cheered when one of their own scored points but would scowl and glare when the points went to one of their Slytherin classmates.
Grumpy-Puss was glaring daggers into Lance's head after he failed to turn a bowling ball into a balloon. Professor Trigel Dalterion had frowned at him and called up another Gryffindor student, a girl named Nadia, to attempt the advanced spell. When she too failed, Professor Dalterion asked for a Slytherin volunteer. No one stepped forward so Lance took the opportunity to show off his skills.
"Fantastic!" The professor had exclaimed, "Very well done Mr. McClain. Five points to Slytherin."
Lance proudly set his wand back on the desk. He could feel Grumpy-Puss boring a hole into the back of his head with those piercing eyes of his. The angry thoughts of envy, frustration, and - attraction? - were emanating off him in waves. At Ilvermorny they had touched on occlumency as part of their defence against the dark arts classes. Lance had learned to shield his mind quite effectively during those short lessons, mostly due to his natural affinity for Legilimency, and so felt confident in his ability to mask his emotions. When he wanted to.
He looked over his shoulder at the sullen Gryffindor boy and smiled brightly, offering a cheeky little wave that resulted in a near snarl. Laughing, Lance turned back toward the front of the room, the boiling emotions behind him stronger than ever.
The transfiguration room was located off the middle courtyard. Large windows surrounded by stunning stonework allowed for plenty of natural light to filter in ... you know, when there was natural light in Scotland. The drab weather outside, coupled with the solid stone walls and scant lighting, made the classrooms and corridors of Hogwarts rather dark.
While the dimness certainly contributed to the overall atmosphere of the school, Lance already missed the bright and breezy halls of Ilvermorny. Massachusetts may not be as warm and sunny as Cuba, but at least it had some sunshine.
Looking out the window, Lance watched the drips roll down the glass from the misty weather outside. He'd been in such a good mood earlier this morning, why was he feeling so glum now? Looking around Lance's eyes landed on Grumpy-Puss. He watched as Keith stared out the opposite window with his head laying on the arm he'd folded over his books, his other arm limply practicing the wand movement they were to be working on.
An elbow to his side grabbed his attention, forcing Lance back to the reality that there were other students in the room; not just Keith and his dark aura. "Can you show me how you did that, mate?" asked the Slytherin boy next to him. Returning to the here-and-now, Lance smiled his winning smile.
"Yeah, dude, it's easy once you get the hang of it," he explained and pushed Grumpy-Puss out of his mind.
By the time he sat down in the Great Hall for lunch, Lance was already exhausted. He felt like he'd run a marathon just getting from class to class and he still had his entire afternoon left. There had to be a better way!
Lance ate his chicken salad sandwich, dipping the crusts into the warm bowl of creamy potato leek soup. Neither James nor Simon spoke and Lance didn't have the energy to carry an entire conversation, so the three boys sat in spiritless silence.
As he ate, Lance scanned the room. He halfheartedly watched students file in, taking a seat at their house table, or joining a friend at theirs. As he watched, Lance noticed a few students from his morning classes. There was the Ravenclaw girl from the train who sat with Hunk, a Gryffindor who was now tongue deep in his girlfriend's face, and the Hufflepuff boy that had tripped over his robes in charms.
Someone teasingly whistled at the horny couple, the sharp sound echoing in the large stone room and Lance snickered under his breath. Though several students laughed, their makeout session didn't stop, instead, the boy raised his middle finger to the room as they carried on undeterred. Lance shook his head as he smiled. While so much was completely different on this side of the Atlantic, it was nice to know some things never changed.
Immediately following lunch, Lance had the last of his core classes for the day; History of Magic. It was a dreadfully boring class taught by the ghost of a professor who had died while teaching and never even noticed. Lance felt like he was dying of boredom just being there. Luckily, History of Magic was with the Ravenclaws and the girl sitting across from Lance was very pretty. He smiled at her, offering a blush and a small wave when she caught him staring. Lance didn't bother turning back to the textbook or trying to listen to their professor drone on; he could just read the chapter later that night on his own.
After being shaken awake by Simon, Lance headed from the first floor back up to the charms corridor on the third floor for Alchemy. He was particularly excited about this class. It was an elective open to all sixth and seventh-year students. Alchemy was also taught at Ilvermorny; however, like Hogwarts, it wasn't offered until sixth-year. This was due to the sheer skill required to perform the sometimes dangerous spells. One needed to be proficient in potions, transfigurations, and charms; scoring an "Outstanding (O)" or "Exceeds Expectations (E)" on their O.W.L.s for two of the three, and at least an "Acceptable (A)" for the third.
With no Simon and James to follow, Lance had had to rely on his map for the first time and was pleased to find it worked like a charm . He filed into the alchemy class, taking a seat near the middle. Several students were already there, settling in and getting out their books. He noticed a familiar face and waved excitedly at Lotor who smiled back, returning to the conversation he was having with a fierce-looking Ravenclaw girl.
Slowly, more and more students arrived, each taking an empty two-top until there was no option left but to buddy up. Lance studied them, noting how the houses stuck to themselves but didn't mind venturing out as long as the other party wasn't a Slytherin. The only exception seemed to be Ravenclaw students who didn't particularly mind their green-robed peers.
As the seats filled up, Lance found himself as one of three students without a partner; two of them being Slytherin while the third was a Gryffindor. The door opened again and the most beautiful young woman Lance had ever set eyes on gracefully stepped into the room. The very air around her seemed to sing and shimmer in her wake. The smile on her face radiated across the room and her fine features sparkled in the light of the sconce she stood beside.
Lance watched this angel as she searched for an empty seat and, with the grace of a butterfly floating through a field of daisies, came to sit beside him. She smelled as light and delicate as she looked, the fragrant perfume wafting from her luscious silver hair intoxicating him at the same moment her smile melted his heart and soul. This young woman, this young woman, was going to be the future Mrs. McClain.
"Hello, you must be Lonce! My cousin has told me much about you," she smiled brightly, outstretching her hand as she spoke. "My name is Allura, welcome to Hogwarts."
Lance pulled himself out of his stupor long enough to shake her hand, marvelling at how soft her skin felt, and willed his hands not to be clammy and his voice not to crack. "Hi," he smiled back, "nice to meet you."
As they spoke the classroom door opened again, another student joining their ranks, but Lance wasn't paying attention to anything but the goddess beside him. 'Allura' was a very fitting name he thought; she was certainly alluring . Should he tell her that? Nah, it probably best to never speak that thought out loud.
A heavy book slammed down on the table in front of him, startling Lance out of his reverie and causing him to shriek loudly. "Move." A gruff voice growled through gritted teeth. Allura smiled and gave Lance a tinkling wave as she gently rose from her seat and glided away, his breaking heart following after her. "MOVE!" The voice growled again and Lance turned his head to see none other than Grumpy-Puss glaring daggers at him.
"No." Lance firmly replied, crossing his arms over his chest. Just who did this jerk think he was? The future Mrs. McClain had just been relocated and Lance was not impressed.
"Yes!" Keith enforced.
"No." Lance repeated.
"You have to," he scowled, "Professor Honerva said we aren't allowed to sit with our own houses. So move over!"
"No," Lance said, doubling down, "walk around."
With a glare that could kill and a huff of rage, Keith trudged up the aisle and came back down the other side, slamming his book onto the desk-top with an unnecessary amount of force. Keith huffed and puffed as he took out his books, getting himself situated at their shared desk. Lance ignored him. He didn't understand why the beautiful and fair Allura had to move so that jerky-mc-jerkface could sit beside him. She had been wearing blue, marking her as a Ravenclaw student and clearly not in his house; Slytherin.
Searching for his fair maiden, Lance spotted her down in the first row next to the Gryffindor who'd been sitting alone earlier. Professor Honerva was speaking, saying something about the importance of elemental magic; magic based around the four main elements. They would be completing a series of tests to determine which element they had a natural affinity for, and then the seating may be shuffled again to ensure no two elements were side-by-side.
"Alchemy is about challenging yourselves, learning to think outside the Standard Book of Spells, pushing the limits of what magic and science tells us is possible," the Professor explained. "Each of you will be asked to give more than you have, to transfigure your own limitations into a catapult launching you through the realm of the possible, into the territory of the unimaginable. Have I sufficiently captured your attention?"
Yes, yes she had! Lance stared down at her with unbridled excitement. This is what he had been waiting six years for! This was his dream; to not only become an alchemist but the foremost expert in the field. Lance was going to be the greatest Alchemist that ever lived! Beside him, Keith's face was just as bright, just as enraptured with her explanation of the class, and Lance wondered how much they really had in common. Maybe more than he'd first assumed.
"Lotor Daibazaal," the professor called and the Slytherin Head Boy rose from his seat to gracefully make his way to the front of the room. He raised his wand, uttered the incantation, and a cool breeze fluttered the papers off the professor's desk. "AIR! Very good," she smiled at him and quickly called the next student.
A few of their peers managed a light spattering of rainfall where they aimed their wand, others shot out sparks, several made the ground rumble, and a select few were able to blow papers about. The stronger the affinity for the element, the more pronounced the manifestation.
"Allura Altea," she called and Lance's jaw hit the floor as he watched his beautiful angel gracefully glide along the aisle. Altea? As in the famed Alchemist Alfor Altea?
Allura pointed her wand at the marker and recited the incantation. At first, there was a small fluttering of the papers on the desk, much the same as the other air affinities had conjured. Until suddenly the windows blew out, a strong gale rushing the room and whipping the contents around as if they were nothing. Professor Honerva rushed to calm the chaos, repairing the windows and resetting the classroom with a flick of her wrist.
"Incredible, such a strong connection to an element is truly a rare gift. Your father will be so proud." Allura blushed at the compliment and, beaming ear to ear, floated back to her seat.
"Keith Kogane," Professor Honerva called, placing a vase back on her desk and repairing the fresh crackdown the side. Keith rose from his seat and stomped his way to the front, his movements lacking all the grace of Allura's. Lance snorted at his brutish gate.
Keith pointed his wand and muttered the incantation. Lance wasn't sure what he'd been expecting, a few sparks maybe? Perhaps a rattling of the stone walls? But the inferno that blasted from the tip of Keith's wand, wrapping around his body and roaring up the aisle towards Lance and the other students was certainly not it. In a moment of panicked self-preservation, Lance pointed his wand at the approaching flames and shouted " Exstinguere! ". Though they didn't evaporate as intended, the flames did diminish; receding down the aisle back towards their conjurer.
"Is everyone alright? Good, good - Kogane? Kogane, are you okay? Good, take your seat if you will, please. That was very impressive. It's not often I see two incredibly gifted students in one class! How exciting." Professor Honerva put out the small fires around the room and opened a window to let the fresh air in.
"Mr. McClain," Lance gulped nervously as the professor's sharp gaze turned to him. Was he not supposed to intervene? Mierda , he shouldn't have done that, it was only his first day and he was already setting a bad rep with the professor of what was definitely his favourite class. Cautiously he made eye contact as she continued, "ten points to Slytherin for your quick thinking and extremely effective counter incantation. An elemental conjuring is difficult to suppress. Very well done, you clearly have a knack for charms."
Lance couldn't help but beam under her praise and even Grumpy-Puss' sour mood couldn't kill this high as he sullenly plopped down beside Lance, absolutely covered in soot. He smelled smokey, like a campfire, and when Lance objected to the stench Keith shook the ashes out of his dark hair, sprinkling them over Lance's pristine robes and parchment. Dick.
Finally, it was Lance's turn and he excitedly took his place at the front of the room, aiming his wand at the mark, and reciting the incantation. At his command, absolutely nothing happened. Lance stared at his wand in disbelief, heart-stricken at the betrayal until he heard cursing coming from behind him. Turning around, Lance found the floodgates had opened above Keith, an absolute downpour raining from the ceiling exclusively where he was sitting. Keith cursed at him some more, threatening to burn up the Slytherin's books, but Lance couldn't stop laughing. Did he feel bad? Yeah, sort of. Did that make it any less funny? Not a chance!
Professor Honerva put out the deluge and Lance returned to his desk, being sure to cast a hot air charm on his seat before sitting down. Snickering all the while.
By the time Lance made it back to the Slytherin common room, he was physically exhausted, mentally drained, and soaking wet. Keith had made a point of dripping on him for the rest of class after Lance noted that he should be thankful for the shower since he no longer smelled like a campfire and was all squeaky clean for once. Apparently, that didn't go over very well with the grouchy Gryffindor student, though Lotor found it quite amusing.
Dinner in the Great Hall came and went without anything exciting happening. There was no grand feast like the first night. Still, dinner was a much bigger production than breakfast or lunch had been. While some students had sat with friends earlier, they were now separated by house once again. You could come and go from the dining hall, but you stayed with your house.
Lance sat along the wall beside Simon. James said he would grab a bite later on as he had gone to the library to check out some books for his Arithmancy class, an elective Lance had opted not to take. The two boys chatted about their electives, Lance retelling the tale of his heroic rescue of the other students and the drenching of a particular mullet. Simon laughed, sharing his own misadventures in divination.
That night, Lance curled up in his bed with Blue comfortably balled up beside him. He listened to the lapping of the Black Lake against the window and began to drift off. His first day at Hogwarts hadn't been what he'd expected but he had managed to make at least three new friends, and leave a good impression on his professors. All in all he'd call that a success.
Tomorrow was his first Apparition lesson and Lance was extremely excited. But for now, it was all he could do to turn off the lights as he slipped into a deeply sound sleep.