AN: Thank you to the people who have reviewed this so far. Those who are following it, I sincerely apologise for not updating. Our internet provider has been buggering us around for a while now.

Oliver had insisted we sit at the back of the classroom in our first class. Defence Against the Dark Arts seemed like an incredibly interesting subject and I couldn't quite understand why, as I looked around the room, I was the only girl who wasn't sitting in the first two rows. I watched as the dozen or so girls at the front of the room began to giggle and whisper with excitement.

"Obi," I asked, yawning slightly. The lack of coffee still affecting my state of concentration, "Why are all the girls up there? Are we supposed to be separated into gender or something?"

Oliver chuckled at the use of his nickname in public, "No, no gender issues here. You'll see soon enough."

I looked warily at him, clearly he knew more than I did about Professor Lockhart than I did. I looked curiously towards the doors that the professor was about to enter though, eager to see. Soon, however, I was regretting the interest I had previously shown.

A flamboyant man with golden hair, perfectly curled around his face, entered the room with a flourish. He was clad in a blue velvet pant-suit with matching robe that flowed as he almost galloped towards his half-attentive class. I snorted. I was fairly certain he was –

"Is he wearing makeup?" Oliver finished my though aloud for me, leaning close to my ear so he and I were the only ones to hear.

I snorted a little too loud, attracting glares from the bimbos at the front of the class and, unfortunately, Lockhart himself.

"Oh, my dear," he drawled as he attempted to look suave, "wouldn't you rather be up here with the rest of your friends so you don't miss the action?"

I almost snorted again, I fixed the nicest smile I could muster and replied, "I've got a friend here," I motioned to Oliver, "and my eyesight's fine. So no, I don't need to be any close to…" I grimaced, making a small circle with my hand towards him, "your action."

I could have sworn one of the stupid girls hissed at me.

Lockhart's face dropped as Oliver began to choke trying to stifle his laugh. Lockhart attempted to laugh at my joke as well, but his humour didn't reach his eyes. He swiftly moved back towards the floundering young girls, the ones in the classroom that were interested in his 'action'.

Oliver gently slapped me on the back, "Oh LJ, that's about the best thing I've ever seen someone say to a teacher." I chuckled, "and I've been in joint classes with the twins."

The rest of Lockhart's 'lesson' consisted of him giving us a 'lecture' on his 'adventures' with a werewolf. In all honesty, his lecture was about how he battled a werewolf and managed to keep his hair perfectly in place.

I found my mind wandering as Lockhart continued to ramble. I looked at Oliver, he was slowly falling asleep, eyes drooping and his raspy breathing becoming slowed and steady. It's not creepy that I know what Oliver's breath is like, he's broken his nose so many times (playing Quidditch, I suppose) that when he breathes through it there's an annoying little whistle what escapes. I had noticed it on the train to Hogwarts and Fred had explained what it was.

Aside from Oliver dozing, there was not much else of interest for me. I thought back to this morning at breakfast. Oliver had been rather snippy at me this morning regarding the coffee incident. I made a mental moment to ask him later, when he wasn't so tired.

I was about to fall asleep myself when I heard a loud owl hooting, I about wet myself. The reason for the loud noise was soon apparent as every one of the boys in my class, including Oliver, quickly packed their books back into their bags and practically ran to the door. The girls, however, sighed emotionally and reluctantly began to disperse. I grabbed on to Oliver's arm so as not to get lost in the crowded hallway between classes.

I was hoping that the next class was more interesting.

Or had a better professor.

Let's face it, a flobber worm could have taught better than Lockhart.

Our next class, according to Oliver, was Charms. We had to scale a few flights of stairs to make it to the classroom but there was around 15 minutes to get around on the grounds and between classes. Oliver and I arrived 10 minutes before class was supposed to start and I cracked a cheeky smile as I saw Fred and George at the back of the classroom.

"What are you doing here?" I beamed. George slid out of the bench to allow me to sit next to Fred and Oliver slid in after me, having George sit on the other side of Oliver.

"I'm surprised Oliver didn't tell you," started Fred.

"Fifth and sixth year Gryffindors have Charms together." George smiled.

"So you're stuck with us!" Laughed Fred.

"All – "

"Year—"

"Long."

The talking word for word was starting to make me dizzy, but I laughed none the less.

We sat and chatted for a while, me discussing Australia with Fred as George and Oliver discussed what else? Quidditch. By the time the class actually started, Fred was fully facing me, his back against the wall as we laughed about his younger brother's fear of spiders. Fred was lovely to talk to. I was enjoying our chat when a small man cleared his throat.

"Welcome to Charms for the year Gryffindors." He said in a small but booming voice, "I understand there is a new student with us this year? Miss Jemima Smith?" The small man climbed up on a stool at the front of the class as I raised my hand in the air, blushing. I had yet to be singled out as the 'new girl' and it was slightly unnerving.

"Ah! Miss Smith," He cried happily, "I am Professor Flitwick. It's so lovely to meet you."

"And you sir," I said happily. Flitwick looked much more inviting and intelligent than Lockart.

"I understand you know all about this year's subject matter?" he asked as I nodded, "Fantastic. Today we will be starting on the Avis charm. Would you please demonstrate this to the class?"

I blushed harder. I had not done magic in front of my new friends yet. I nodded, none the less and retrieved my wand from my bag. I cleared my throat and raised my wand. In a swift figure eight motion I cast the spell.

"Avis," I whispered. A small blue bird erupted from my wand and flew around the room. To my surprise, several of my classmates (including Oliver, Fred and George) began to clap.

"Fantastic!" Cried Professor Flitwick, "15 points to Gryffindor!"

George and Oliver slapped me on the back as I sat back down, Fred, however, squeezed my leg once I had sat.

"Sorry," he mumbled, seeing my questioning face.

"No, no Fred," I said, placing my hand on his leg, squeezing it as he had done, "it's ok. It just startled me a little."

Professor Flitwick had settled the class down and began to teach them all how to cast the Avis charm. He used me as a helper to the class, assisting a new of the students perfect the figure eight.

It turned out that Fred and George needed more help than anyone else. I laughed as a small orange feather popped out of George's wand. He didn't look very happy at the prospect of the charm failing so Oliver, who had succeeded after 3 tries, was helping him and I was helping Fred.

"This is pointless Jem," Fred sighed, a little aggravated that the last 40minutes of the lesson had proven fruitless.

"Aw," I said, grabbing his right hand in my left, "Come on, you're so close. I swear I saw a beak trying to get out last time." Fred rolled his eyes, "I'm not kidding Fred, come on. We'll do it together." I raised our hands, thankful that I was left handed and he was right.

George and Oliver were watching as Fred and I were sweeping the wand up and down in the figure eight. Fred was grinning from ear to ear as we both muttered 'Avis'.

A large peacock erupted from Fred's wand and several students jumped. Whipping their heads around to look at the big bird, Flitwick almost fell off his stool and clapped loudly. I had managed to take my hand away before anyone aside from the four of us had seen I was assisting.

"Mr Weasley!" Flitwick said, "that is the loveliest bird that I have seen all day! 15 points to Gryffindor!" a small frown appeared on his face, "I think that's the first time I've awarded points to you or your brother. I shall have to mention Miss Smith's efforts with the two of you to Professor McGonagall."

I laughed lightly as Fred petted the peacock between its eyes. He then reached to sweep a piece of my hair out of my eyes.

"Thank you Jem," Fred smiled sweetly.

I smiled back at him, not seeing the seething look Oliver had given the both of us from behind my back.