Beta: FlyingLovegood123

I added something later, so there might still be some mistakes. Also, if some "m" are missing, blame it on my faulty keyboard.


By the end of his first week at Hogwarts, Edward's life as a student was decidedly still alright.

Alright had always been such a vague term.

Edward had spent the better part of his first morning figuring out his way to the Great Hall for breakfast. The rest of his fellow first-year Hufflepuffs were just as clueless about the castle structure as he was, so they could only split into smaller groups and take off in different directions, therefore managing to get themselves lost in a wide variety of manners. Like them, Edward was wandering about as well. His situation was, however, not really the same as his friends. Sure, he had as much success at the moment with pinpointing his exact location as he would have with growing wings, but somehow, he could feel where he needed to go. He had never noticed it before, never really had the need, but he realized that if he concentrated hard enough, he could sense the magic of other people. That morning, in the company of a panicking Justin Finch-Fletchley while being quite desperate himself, Edward did something he found stupid at the time, which was to close his eyes and try to find the Great Hall in his mind. He didn't really think it would actually work, however, to his astonishment, he could sense a large amount of magic concentrated somewhere below, which undoubtedly belonged to the teachers and students currently occupying his destination. It was a peculiar feeling, like his own magic recognized and resonated with the others' power. Problem was, although he had a general idea of where the Great Hall was, he didn't know how to get there. If all it took was just figuring out if he should go left or right, Edward was confident that he would be able to manage it. However, things were not so simple, and fact was that between him and his goal stood dozens of moving staircases, hidden doors and who knew what else. A wrong step and he might just fall back to square one. Not to mention his companion, Justin, who was not really helping matter by pulling him along a path that Edward was sure was taking them further and further away from where they needed to go. He couldn't exactly tell his companion that Great Hall wasn't that way since it would undoubtedly lead to some questions regarding his ability. Edward had decided to conceal the fact that he could do wandless magic. He had shown Harry and Ron only because at that time he thought that anyone could do the same. He knew better now, and the knowledge that he wasn't normal scared him somewhat.

In the end, the two were thankfully saved by the Fat Friar, who was passing by. Edward was delighted to find out that the students were not required to stick to their house own tables, which meant that he was allowed to join Ron and Harry and sit with the Gryffindors. He realized that, while not being in the same house, he could still spend time with the two outside classes and at meals. This made him feel relieved, knowing that he wasn't completely isolated as he had believed at first. Afterwards, having regained a bit of his confident, he started talking to those at his own house with more ease and was delighted that he could get along well with them. He actually started to feel more belong among the Hufflepuffs. Contrary to his initial fear, he was starting to make new friends relatively easily. He still spent the majority of his time in Harry and Ron' company, though.

No, his real problem didn't show itself until he had lessons. At first it was all well and good. The Hufflepuffs studied Herbology in the greenhouses where students learnt the names of various plants and fungi as well as how to take care of them with Professor Sprout, a dumpy little witch who also happened to be their Head of House. Strangely, Edward could recognize some of the plants by sight, though the names with which he identify them inside his head were completely different from the names in the book. History of Magic was, well, boring-except for the fact that it was taught by a ghost: Professor Binn. He never seemed to notice that there were students in his classes, and his monotonous voice could lure even an insomniac into a slumber. Professor Flitwick, who taught Charms, was a tiny little wizard who had to stand on a pile of books placed on his chair to see over his desk. And then, there was Potions. Ah, to think that he had looked forward to this class and thought it interesting. Well, the subject itself might be interesting, but other factors related to it was not. The moment the teacher stepped into the room, the whole atmosphere seemed to darken, and since Potions took place in the dungeon, that was saying something. Professor Snape was a man with greasy black hair, sallow skin and a hooked-nose. Like with Professor McGonagall, one look at him and the message that read mess-with-me-and-suffer-consequences was clear, but the students could tell that the consequences part would be on a totally different level. His voice, though barely more than a whisper, carried to every corner of the classroom. The air was so tense it could be cut with a knife.

Potions was bad, yet in a way, Defense against the Dark Arts was even worse. Quirrell's class turned out to be somewhat of a joke, and nobody took him very seriously, being the stuttering, shaking man he was, but Edward couldn't help but shiver every time he laid his eyes on him. It was like every nerves in his body was screaming at him to keep away from Quirrell, though he had no idea why. Unable to explain the warning his magic was sending him, Edward thought it best that he avoided any contact with Quirrell from now on.

Edward discovered his most dire problem in his first time in Transfiguration. Professor McGonagall really was stern, he was right at that, and the students had to take long and very complicated notes regarding the theories and process of transforming objects. It was hard, but still nothing he couldn't handle. Until he had to pick up his wand, that was. The task was clear: try to turn a match into a needle. It sounded simple, but no one had even managed to make any changes to their matches. They waved their wands again and again and nothing happened. There were murmurs of disappointment among the students, but little did they know how Edward wished he could be like them.

Never before had the knowledge that his wand didn't choose him been more vivid to Edward. He had so far forgotten the incident at Ollivanders's shop completely, thus had let his guard down when he pointed his wand at the match. The effect was immediate: the match, instead of changing (even remaining the same would have been much better), was blown into smithereens, taking along with it half of the desk he was sitting at, earning a startled cry from Justin who was sitting next to him as well as frightened stares from the rest of the class. Miraculously, there was no more damage, though splinters of charred wood were littered on the floor. After having confirmed that nobody was hurt, Professor McGonagall repaired the desk with a flick of her wand and there was a frown on her face as she handed him another match. Edward'd rather not tempt his luck again with his rebellious wand, so he put it down until the end of the class, which resulted in a loss of ten points from Hufflepuff for "not paying attention to your work". And to think that most of his classes required wand-waving.

He was so doomed.