Learning theory was always a relief to Arthur. So he absolutely loved Professor Gabby. The Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher seemed to think that theory should come before practice, meaning Arthur could put off the discovery of his non-existent magical skills. He could answer questions without fear of revealing himself, after all.

However, the professor had only recently been hired and it showed. At one point in their first lesson, a boy asked an unnecessary question about Harry Potter. He was obviously a Muggle-born. Instead of telling him that it was a work of fiction, Gabby was drawn into a conversation about each detail of the story.

Finally, they were released and, instead of going to lunch, Arthur hurried to the library. This time, Kiku left him alone, knowing he wanted to be. Also, it seemed, the Ravenclaw was hungry. Arthur was as well, but he was still researching a way to bring his magic out – and that was a lot more important to him.

Of course, he didn't expect to find anything. He had already exhausted every book about Squibs in the place. And, if something related to his condition was available in just any book, a lot more Squibs would be using magic. Regardless, he dropped a pile of books onto his chosen table as quietly as possible and sat, pulling the topmost one closer to him.

It wasn't long before his silence was interrupted. Glancing up when a shadow fell onto his pages, he found Alfred grinning at him. "Urgh," he said, and replaced his gaze stubbornly to the page.

"Hey, Artie," said Alfred as he sat opposite him. He was moving much more carefully than Arthur had seen him. In fact, now that Arthur had noticed, he was being much quieter than normal, too.

"What are you up to?" asked Arthur, frowning at the Gryffindor.

"Aw, man. Well saying you Ravenclaws are clever!"

"I am pretty sure that a Ravenclaw is not needed to figure that out."

"Well..." Alfred glanced around, obviously making sure that no-one else could see them. Then he leaned forward, pushed Arthur's books to the side and whispered to him. "I brought something for you!"

The blush heated Arthur's cheeks. "What?!"

"Yeah. Hang on!" And, with that, Alfred had thumped his bag onto the table, wincing at the dull thud. Unzipping it, he pulled it apart to show Arthur the contents.

The Brit gaped. He had never seen so much food meant for a single person. Sandwiches and burgers and boxes of pasta and croissants and crêpes and crisps and chocolate. It was all in a variety of states. Some of it was carefully wrapped. Others seemed now be being shaken loose from whatever loose wrappings it had been in. Quite a lot of it was squashed, however, as Alfred had not taken out his sparse books and notebook.

"You- What are you doing?! We could both be kicked out of here, dolt!"

"But..." Alfred appeared to be confused. "Artie, you hardly eat. It can't be good for you! And Kiku was worried. And, when he told everyone else, they were rather concerned, too. 'Course, they could only send one of us so I volunteered!"

"Everyone else?"

Grinning, Alfred nodded. "Francis, Yao, Mattie – everyone!"

"I- Why do they...?"

Alfred sighed. "I take it back – for a Ravenclaw, you're pretty stupid."

"What did you just say?!"

"They care because you're their friend – even if you won't admit it. So eat up!"

"I'm not going to eat in here!" cried Arthur, ignoring his 'friend' comment. He was always bleating on about it so he had taken to ignoring him if he said the word.

"Then let's take it outside!"

Arthur looked at his books, biting his lip. Every second he spared with Alfred meant less time to research. Suddenly, Alfred wafted his hand in front of the bag, pushing the air towards Arthur. For a moment, Arthur wondered what he was up to – then he noticed the enticing smell of the food. His stomach rumbled loudly and Alfred had to stifle his giggles.

"Okay, okay," sighed Arthur.

After his impromptu lunch, Arthur had Potions. He wasn't terribly fond of going into the dungeons – his pessimistic imagination managed to create scenarios where he was incarcerated for coming to Hogwarts when he had no magic. So it was with increasing trepidation that he made his way there, Kiku by his side.

The two of them took a space at the back of the room, since they were the first ones there. Arthur had decided not to be too close to the front of any of their classrooms – just in case. He had never cooked anything before, his mother usually deterring him, so he was a little nervous about his first lesson. Kiku did not seem to protest the choice of location and sat beside him. Arthur wondered why – he barely spoke to the boy.

As they waited, their books and things out on the desk, Arthur cleared his throat. "Have you found your cub yet?"

Kiku shook his head. "I have looked everywhere yet no-one has seen him."

"Ah. I am sure he will turn up, though," said Arthur, kindly, his lips twitching into a worried smile.

"Hai," said Kiku, smiling back at him.

Arthur was a little shocked at the smile and a certain amount of warmth spread through him. His cheeks were warm and he glanced away, wondering if that smile and its associated feelings were what having friends were like.

Once the other students had arrived, Professor Michaelis entered the room. He was a tall man with black hair, black robes and black eyes. Arthur suppressed a shiver – the man always seemed rather suspicious. Those eyes hid their owner's thoughts, or so it seemed to Arthur, at least. He also seemed to wear gloves all the time and this unnerved the Ravenclaw. Beside him, Kiku shrank into his seat. Perhaps he was not the only one to become nervous in the man's presence.

"Good morning, class," said Professor Michaelis, cheerfully, his eyes scanning the room. "Today we will start with a simple potion. One which is generally used and of your level, of course. The cure for boils."

A muttering started in the class. It seemed the others were looking forward to the lesson. Arthur, meanwhile, felt worse immediately. He had a really bad feeling about this – especially since the professor's gaze lingered on him for a moment more than anyone else. Beside him, he caught sight of Kiku glancing at him from the corner of his eye.

They were given a demonstration and a list of ingredients. The recipe was copied into their books and they swiftly got to work, the students all split into pairs. Kiku seemed to have no qualms about working with Arthur but the Brit was not happy. One of the steps required waving a wand. If he could not make Kiku do that, the potion would be ruined. He cursed himself and his lack of magic.

"Arthur-san. Would you like to crush the fangs?" asked Kiku, gesturing to the pestle and mortar.

Seizing his chance, Arthur nodded. "Of course. You can do the next step, if you would like."

"Hai. That sounds wise, Arthur-san," said Kiku with a smile.

Relieved, Arthur stepped forward and selected six of the fangs laid out on the table. He began to crush one and, very soon, was rather worn out from it. The ingredients were hard and crushing it required a lot more strength than Arthur had originally though. Too much, though, and he could very well have the fang flying from the table.

Eventually, all six were crushed and the appropriate measure of powder was added to the cauldron. With a smile, he turned to Kiku who nodded and prodded the bottom of the cauldron to heat it. Afterwards, he turned to Arthur. "Your turn, Arthur-san," he said, stepping back.

Eyes widening, Arthur realised that the next step was, in fact, waving his wand over the cauldron. Horrified, he was about to shake his head when he remembered that he had no good reason to say no – except for admitting he was a Squib. Biting his lip, Arthur took a breath and pulled out his wand. He swallowed. Then, with a flick of his wrist, he waved it. Of course, nothing happened. But, then, nothing was supposed to happen.

The next part was the brewing so they divided up the rest of the preparation. However, Arthur kept glancing towards the cauldron, wondering if the potion would, in fact, be all right. The quiet between them didn't last long. All of a sudden, large bubbles began to form on the surface of the liquid in the cauldron. Knowing that this was not supposed to happen, Arthur cried out and pulled Kiku out of the way. Quickly, he grabbed the cauldron and tried to pull it from the fire, scalding his hands in the process. Wincing, he dropped it, the liquid spilling over him.

Almost at once, Arthur felt his skin beginning to itch. For a moment he resisted before he raised his sodden arm and began to scratch at small, angry, red spots which now covered his body. They were spreading quickly and he whimpered, tears pricking at his eyes.

The professor gazed at him from across the room as Kiku stepped closer, asking if Arthur was okay. Before the Brit could respond, Michaelis spoke up. "Go to the hospital wing, Mr. Kirkland." Arthur only nodded before rushing from the room, taking deep breaths to keep himself calm enough to find his way to the desired destination.

There were two options to Arthur's problem: a painful spell or a slow-acting potion. Deciding he had had enough of pain for the day, he opted for the latter and settled in for a long night in the hospital wing. (His scalded hands had a cream rubbed into them which instantly healed them and made him very curious as to what it was.) With a sigh, he leaned back against the pillows of his bed, watching the nurse bustling around, tending to some other unfortunate students, and trying hard not to scratch.

He was bored within half an hour and wished fervently that he had thought to grab his bag. There were some books in there which he had been looking forward to perusal – even if he had little hope it would help him. His hands twitched with the effort of keeping from scratching and, every few minutes, he found himself absent-mindedly rubbing at the spots.

Once the bell had rang, Arthur glanced at the door. After a moment of watching, he shook his head. Did he expect Kiku to turn up with his things? Why would he? Arthur had not so much as indicated that he thought of him as a friend. He was pushing everyone away so why would anyone turn up? With a small growl, he pulled his hand away from his leg to stop himself from making his condition worse. No-one would come – especially not Kiku who was probably very confused as to why their potion had failed.

As such, he was extremely surprised to spot Alfred darting inside, his bag swinging from the Gryffindor's shoulder, a grin on his face. As Arthur's eyes widened, he shouted across the room, startling the patients. "Hey, Artie! How're you doing?!"

"Shhh!" hissed the nurse. Alfred flinched at her glare and grimaced apologetically. Hesitantly, he tip-toed over to Arthur's bedside and sat down on the armchair which was used for visitors.

"Hey, Artie," he repeated, this time in a stage whisper.

For a few seconds, Arthur was too dumbstruck to respond. Then he said, "You brought my bag."

"Yup!" replied Alfred, cheerfully. "Kiku came to dinner with it and explained what happened. How on Earth did you manage to muck up the potion?"

"Don't you start with me!" exclaimed Arthur, indignantly. "You melted your cauldron."

With a shrug and a laugh, Alfred dropped his bag onto the bed. "Your bag is real heavy," he complained.

"Well, sorry for wanting to learn," sighed Arthur, retrieving his books.

"You're not gonna read them while I'm hear, are ya?"

Looking up into Alfred's sad, blue eyes, Arthur paused in the act of opening one. Should he ask Alfred to leave? "Why are you here?" he asked instead.

"What d'you mean?"

Arthur sighed. "Why on Earth do you keep trying to be my friend? Haven't I already told you-?"

"Why do you not want to be my friend?"

"Don't be so arrogant!" snapped Arthur, frowning. "And it's none of your business."

"Then I won't tell you why I'm your friend."

This caused Arthur to blink, his hand hovering above his book. Alfred already considered Arthur a friend? But the Ravenclaw had pushed him away and rushed off and avoided him. How could Alfred possibly consider him a friend? He felt something shift within him, almost as though the wall he had crafted to save himself was beginning to crumble.

"Listen," Arthur whispered, trying to stop it, trying to deny Alfred.

But Alfred didn't hear him, already moving onto a new topic of conversation. "Man, you missed a great dinner! It was brilliant – hamburgers everywhere!"

"I think I'm rather glad I missed it," Arthur managed to reply, still eyeing the boy carefully.

"Yeah, I was sitting with everyone at the Ravenclaw table and that Professor Watson looked pleased and we were all talking about everything we learned today-"

"Learnt," Arthur automatically corrected him.

"That's what I said," replied Alfred, blinking in confusion.

"No, you said it wrong. You said-"

"Ah, it doesn't matter, does it?"

"Of course it does!" snapped Arthur. "If you can't say words as simple as that, how on Earth are you going to pronounce complicated spells?!"

"I dunno – suppose I'll just make an effort when it matters," said Alfred, shrugging nonchalantly and grinning.

Another sigh erupted from Arthur. "Merlin's beard," he began but found himself interrupted by Alfred's loud laugh.

"D-Did you-?" he gasped through his giggles. "Did you just say-?" He gave up on speaking and clutched his stomach instead, doubled over in his seat.

"W-What...?" was all Arthur managed to say as he watched him in shock.

Finally, Alfred looked up, a huge grin on his face. "I can't believe you just..." He trailed off, glanced around surreptitiously and leaned forwards to whisper to Arthur. "I can't believe you just swore!" For a few seconds, Arthur stared at him with wide eyes. Slowly, Alfred stopped laughing and frowned. "What? Isn't it a Wizard Swear?"

Slowly, a smile spread across Arthur's face. A genuine smile he hadn't known he was still capable of. Then he threw back his head as a laugh escaped him. Alfred looked pleased and joined in. They laughed for a full minute before the nurse came bustling over, frowning and telling them to shush.

Once they had composed themselves (Alfred kept giggling every so often), Arthur explained why he was laughing. "It's not that bad a swear word. In fact, I'd hardly call it swearing. More an explanation. Who on Earth told you about that?"

"Some third year Gryffindor."

"Ah," said Arthur, frowning a little. It was highly likely that the other boy had been making fun of Alfred. He felt himself growing annoyed – how dare they do that to his friend-! Stopping his train of thought, his frown deepened. No, he wasn't allowed friends, was he?

"Y'know," sighed Alfred as he leaned forward and prodded Arthur between his eyebrows. "That's the first time I've seen ya smiling. Stop frowning."

Arthur was surprised that Alfred had noticed but, instead of doing as he asked, Arthur rolled his eyes and batted the offending hand away. "What does it matter?"

"Well, we worry about you, Artie."

"It's Arthur!" hissed the boy before realising what Alfred had said. "'We'?"

"Yeah. I mean, you're always so grumpy and, well, we're worried you're gonna-"

"No, what I meant to ask is, who's 'we'?"

"Oh. Y'know. Me, Kiku, Mattie, Francis – everyone."

"Why on Earth would they be worried about me?"

The American sighed and rolled his own eyes. Arthur had never seen him do that before and he blinked in surprise. "Because they're your friends, Artie, and we like you," he told Arthur, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"W-?" Arthur managed before pausing. Again, he attempted to speak. "What-?"

"Hey! Have you eaten yet?" Alfred suddenly asked. "Cause I wasn't sure what you'd get in here so I sneaked out some food." Once again, his bag was opened and Arthur could see the various foods in there. "Mattie forced me to take some pancakes, there's rice balls from Kiku, Francis insisted that I took some pot au feu – that's what's in the little box. Yao made that – transfigured a plate into one. Feli gave me pasta and his brother gave me pizza and I made sure you got hamburgers. And one of those scone thingies. I mean, they're not all that great but I figured you'd... Are you okay?"

For Arthur's face had gone bright red beneath the angry sores which still covered him. Alfred had just listed a lot of people who he claimed were friends. Most of them were even people that Arthur found he liked. He wanted to be friends with them. More than anything, he wanted to have people to talk with and laugh with. And now, here he was, finding out that everyone else considered him to be someone they could talk and laugh with.

It was an amazing and embarrassing revelation.

"You..." he breathed. "You..." he tried again, wondering what his mouth was trying to say. Seeing Alfred's confused and worried expression, he pulled himself together. "You're an idiot!"

"What?"

"If you get caught with all that food, you'll be in trouble!"

"Oh. Yeah, I suppose I will. In that case!" And with that, he hopped to his feet and rounded the bed. Before Arthur could react, the Gryffindor had pulled open the drawer of his bedside cabinet and was emptying the contents of his bag into it. "In that case, you'd better hurry up and eat it all before you get caught!"

"You-!" started Arthur, reaching to grab his arm and make him stop. Alfred, however, saw him coming and darted out of the way, almost skipping back to the chair.

Grinning, Alfred asked, "So, what's been your favourite class, so far?"

Sighing, Arthur shook his head. "Defence Against the Dark Arts."

"Ah, but that's all theory!" cried Alfred, throwing his hands in the air and pulling a face.

"We need to understand what we're doing before we try it. If we don't we could seriously hurt someone," Arthur pointed out. Alfred pouted and Arthur rolled his eyes – something he wondered if he would be doing a lot of. "And what's yours?"

"Potions," said Alfred, biting his lip and appearing amused.

"Potions?" repeated Arthur. "But you blew up your cauldron!"

"Yeah, but it made sure you stayed still for me," said Alfred with a grin. Arthur blushed but Alfred didn't seem to notice. "I mean, you haven't run off once since I got here!"

"Well..."

"You're my friend, right? Stop doing that."

Arthur glanced up at Alfred, a sad smile being shone his way. So Arthur did what he had been resisting for days. With a nod, he held out his hand. "Arthur Kirkland, friend," he said with a shy smile.

With a triumphant yell, Alfred leapt forward and grabbed his hand, shaking it wildly, not caring for Arthur's wincing. "Alfred F. Jones – best friend!"

"Best friend," Arthur agreed, his smile getting better as something seemed to loosen in his chest. He suddenly felt a lot better. Or at least, he did, until one of Alfred's nails scratched at his sores and he gasped with pain.

"Sorry," said Alfred with a grimace, dropping Arthur's hand. "You're gonna be all right, right?" he asked.

Rubbing at his hand, Arthur chuckled. "Of course I am. I'll just be in overnight, that's all."

"What?! But that's horrible!"

"I'll be fine, I assure you. I have my books."

"And me!" said Alfred, firmly.

Arthur only laughed. "You won't be allowed to stay here."

"You'll see! I'll get Nurse What's-her-name to... gimme that bed!" declared Alfred as he pointed wildly at the neighbouring one. Arthur only shook his head, chuckling slightly. "I will!"

"Are you hungry?" asked Arthur, turning to the bedside cabinet. "My really stupid best friend dumped a lot of food here." He grinned across at Alfred who pouted: Arthur could tell he wasn't really that upset.

They decided to eat the food contained in the transfigured boxes first – just in case the spell wore off. Alfred drew the curtain around the bed so they wouldn't be seen and they ate as quickly and quietly as they could, giggling occasionally. It was rather good food and Arthur was grateful to be having a proper meal for once. Twice now, Alfred had made sure he was fed. Arthur wished he could understand how they had become such good friends so quickly.

"Oh, hey!" cried Alfred once they had eaten their fill and hidden the rest of the food back in the American's bag. "It's our flying lesson tomorrow!" The grin on his face was huge. He was obviously looking forward to it.

However, Arthur was not and only shrugged. "It's not such a big deal. I've been on brooms before, you know," he added, by way of explanation.

"Really?!" exclaimed Alfred so loudly that Arthur expected the nurse to appear and scold them. The boy rushed from his chair, sending it toppling and jumping onto the bed beside Arthur. "What's it like?! I bet it's awesome! I've always wanted to fly! But we never had any money to go on a plane – but now I can use a broom and I'm so excited and it'll be awesome and we totally need to have a race and I'll beat you and it'll be-!"

"You there!" yelled the nurse who now stood at the foot of the bed. "Get off of there! You are disturbing the patients!"

"Oh..." said Alfred, deflating. "Sorry," he muttered, slipping from his position to stand on the floor.

"Out!" snapped the woman.

"B-But-!" began Alfred, obviously going to protest that he should be waiting through the night.

"Alfred..." said Arthur, finally recovering from the shock of Alfred's close proximity. "You should go before you get into trouble..." The Gryffindor spun round and his face twisted into such a look of despair that Arthur almost asked the nurse if he could stay. However, he swallowed and stood his ground. "There may be other people who will need to use the bed so you can't take up that space. And!" he cried as Alfred looked ready to suggest something else. "And you cannot sleep on the chair – you will get ill."

A moment passed before Alfred reluctantly nodded and grabbed his bag. "Well... Get well soon, Artie. I'll come see you in the morning."

"You dolt – I'll be in the Great Hall tomorrow." Arthur smiled at Alfred, trying to cheer him up. It seemed to do the trick for, after a few seconds spent staring at Arthur in surprise, he beamed. Suddenly, he was back on the bed, arms thrown around Arthur. "A-Alf-!"

"Goodnight, Artie! See you tomorrow!" And with that, Alfred rushed out of the wing, dodging the nurse's complaints. Arthur watched him go with a half-exasperated, half-amused look.

Once the nurse had calmed down, she turned to Arthur who smiled apologetically and shrugged. With a sigh, she shook her head. "Come along now," she said. "Take some more of the potion and then you should turn in-"

"-so that the potion can get to work quicker, yes?" said Arthur, even as he grimaced at the thought of drinking the awful stuff again.

It was as he was choking down the awful medicine that he realised that, whilst Alfred had been present, he had almost forgotten about the itching...

A tremendous bang jolted Arthur awake. He groggily registered that it was still rather dim. For a brief moment, he decided that there must be some sort of emergency and shut his eyes again. Just as he was about to roll away from the door and wriggle further under the covers, he heard the rattle of the curtain being moved. His eyes flew open and he sat up, becoming a little dizzy from his swift movement.

"Alfred?!" he rasped, staring at the boy. He was standing triumphantly, grinning, hands on hips.

"Rise and shine, Sleeping Beauty!" Alfred exclaimed, loudly, as he stepped forward.

"What the hell are you-? What time is it?" Arthur rubbed his eyes, wondering if he had slept late.

"Half six!" declared the American cheerfully.

"Oi!" shouted someone from one of the other beds. "Shut it! We're trying to sleep here!"

"Oh, sorry!" Alfred called back just as another door was thrown open.

"You there!" Arthur heard the nurse screeching – she was obscured by the curtain: Alfred hadn't opened it wide enough. Said boy flinched when he heard her. "Out! Now! Stop disturbing my patients!"

The Gryffindor looked at Arthur with pleading eyes. However, Arthur only glared back at him, unamused by the situation. Alfred began to sidle away. "Ah. Yeah. S-Sorry..." he said. And with that, he fled from the wrath of the room.

Arthur sighed as he settled back down for more sleep, noting that his sores had almost disappeared completely. He drifted off to the faint grumblings of the other occupants of the room.

An hour later, Arthur awoke again. He wasn't sure what had caused him to return to consciousness but he sighed in exasperation. Rolling over, intent on rising and heading to the bathroom, he found Alfred sitting on the chair beside his bed, his head on a hand, dosing slightly. Franticly, Arthur slapped his hand to his mouth, stifling his cry of surprise.

When his heart rate had decreased and his breathing had evened out, he sat up. He shook his head and slipped from the bed, snagging his robes as he did so. As quickly as possible, he entered the bathroom, relieved himself and got dressed before returning to the bed. On his way, he was intercepted by the nurse who glanced at him and gave him the okay to leave. He smiled, thanked her, and continued on his way.

Once he had lifted his bag and stuffed his books back in it, he leaned over Alfred. With a devilish grin, he cleared his throat and said, rather loudly and directly into his ear, "Time to get up, sleepyhead!"

With a jolt, Alfred's eyes snapped open and he gasped in surprise. In a panic, he glanced round, finally located his friend, and sighed in relief. "You didn't needta do that," grumbled the American, rubbing at his eyes.

"You deserve it for waking everyone up so early. Why on Earth were you awake?"

"Um..." said Alfred, glancing away. "I had some bad dreams."

"Oh? Anything in particular?"

"No. I don't think so. I can't really remember."

"Hm," said Arthur as he helped Alfred to his feet. "Well, best not to dwell on them, I suppose. They're not always premonitions." He noticed Alfred shuddering but decided not to pass comment. "Come along – time for breakfast."

"Yay!" exclaimed Alfred as they left the hospital wing, waking up the other patients.

For some reason "leapt" on this site is incorrect. But it's fine in my UK spell-checked document. Oh, wait. Now the little red line's disappeared... Is it correct or not, idiot site! *grumbles to self*

Alfred's dreams are, actually, unfortunately, premonitions. Sort of. Or at least, one of them was. The other was just a "I'm going to make a fool of myself in flying class tomorrow" fear-filled dream.

I didn't really mean for them to become friends so quickly. But this chapter happened and, well... Food always works when making friends, apparently.

I imagine Arthur has ridden brooms since he was a small child. However... I mean... I was thinking of the whole "Up!" scene from HP and, well, they don't ever do that after the flying lesson. They just mount the broom and take off. So I figured that, while Arthur can kick himself up from the ground and fly (no magic required - or is there? Heh), he can't do the "up!" bit. Rather like Hermione. ;)

Gabby is actually a surname which means devious. I think. I decided on it a while back but I don't remember the exact meaning nor can I be bothered looking it up again. Sorry. =/

I haven't decided on a name for the nurse. =/

That's all for now.