Santana yawned, rubbing her eyes agitatedly as she plopped onto the grass next to a worn out broom. It was only the second week of class, and she already knew that Wednesdays were going to be her least favorite day throughout the rest of the school year. It was the longest day of classes, starting early with History of Magic, a class she all but drooled through that morning as Professor Bletheim droned on an on about some rebellion or revolution or something that happened a long, long time ago, followed by Transfiguration with Hufflepuff. She had the unfortunate luck of her and Quinn's table being right next to the wannabe giant Finn Hudson and his friend Noah Puckerman's. The unfortunate part came in the facts that not only were they Hufflepuff, but Finn was more prone to blowing things up than transfiguring them. She briefly pondered wearing a hazmat suit to their next Transfiguration class, but realized that would probably be most definitely against uniform regulations. After that, she got a break for lunch, but now it was back with Hufflepuff for Flying. After all that, she would still have one more class, Astronomy, at midnight that night.
Santana sighed. Long didn't even begin to describe her day.
"You are going to get grass stains like that," Quinn pointed out as she stood beside the next broom.
"Grass is green; it'll match," Santana shrugged, despite the fact that she had stood up and dusted off her robes. Her mother would flip if she ever got wind of Santana's robes being stained.
"What is going on with the boys?" Quinn asked, motioning to the group of First Year Hufflepuff and Slytherin boys gathered in a tight circle, seemingly set against one another.
"Probably arguing over who is going to have the best crash today," Santana rolled her eyes. "My money is on Karofsky. His nose dive into the groundskeeper's hut last week was inspiring."
It was Quinn's turn to roll her eyes.
"Afraid to bet because you know I'm right?"
"A true lady does not gamble."
"A true lady goes through life without knowing the meaning of the word 'fun'," Santana countered with provoking smirk.
Quinn sighed, "Oh, alright. My money is on Noah. He is far too cocky for someone so small. Reminds me of someone…"
Santana narrowed her eyes at Quinn's pointed gaze, "And what is that supposed to mean?"
"It means that in approximately 90 minutes you will be owing me two Galleons."
"Just two?" Santana raised an eyebrow.
Quinn's mouth twitched, and Santana stuck her hand out before Quinn took back the bet altogether.
"Two it is," Santana nodded as they shook on it. She turned back to the group of boys watching them curiously. "I still don't get it, though. Earlier, in Transfiguration, the Slytherin boys did not want to have anything to do with the Hufflepuff boys and vice versa."
"It is just boys being boys," Rachel waved towards the group of First Years tiredly as she walked along the row of brooms, trying to select the right ones.
"Okay, someone hand me a mallet," Santana demanded. "It is time to play whack a hobbit."
Quinn put a hand a hand out, halting her, "What are they being boys about now?"
Rachel stopped next to a broom and squatted down to inspect it. She looked up, clearly shocked at being addressed in a near-normal way by the pristine blonde, "Quidditch try-outs."
"Quidditch try-outs?" Santana questioned. "What does that have to do with them? First Years aren't allowed to try-out for the Quidditch team. They have to have a special invitation."
"Not this year," Rachel shook her head as she stood up and moved on to another broom, clearly not satisfied with the one before her. "First Years are being allowed to try-out. The team captains and Coach Tenaka have been posting flyers about it all afternoon. They were on the bulletin board in the Common Room after lunch. Slytherin's try-outs are tomorrow."
"And those goons think they have a chance of making the team?" Santana snorted. "Please."
"They have a better chance of gaining a position in the Ministry of Magic by tomorrow night than of making the House Team," Quinn giggled.
"What about you two?" Rachel asked, finally settling on a broom, a good ways down the row from them.
Thankfully, Santana thought to herself. "What about us?"
"Will you be trying out? Girls are allowed on the team, you know?"
"Just because girls are allowed, does not mean it is a suitable past time for a girl to be participating in," Quinn replied airily. "It is practically barbaric."
Santana nodded. She could still remember the look on her mother's face when she had entered the kitchen, her hair windswept and eyes dancing in excitement after her father had taken her on a ride around the estate on his broom for the first time, and declared that she wanted to become a professional Quidditch player when she grew up. Needless to say, Lady Lopez shut down that thought right away, telling her that no daughter of hers would ever be caught dead playing such a masculine sport.
"That type of thinking is what is barbaric," Rachel replied, moving to yet another broom.
Quinn's eyes widened, "Excuse—"
But Santana cut her off, "What in the world are you doing, anyway? Pick a damn broom and stay with it. Your back and forth is making me dizzy."
"I am choosing a broom. In The Art of Flying: A Beginner's Guide, it is stated that the first step to achieve flight is to pick a proper broomstick, one that is nice and straight with all of its straw intact and lined up in precise rows. Now, I know it is impossible to find such a broom with the selection that we have, but I am trying to find the closest thing to it."
"What is with her?" Quinn whispered, turning to Santana whose shoulders were shaking with laughter. "What?"
"The Art of Flying is one of those self-help guides that supposedly tell you, step-by-step, how to do the most basic of magic things," Santana whispered. She did not add that she had seen her driver, Brad, reading several such books when she was younger. Quinn didn't need to know that, and she hadn't seen him reading them for quite some time now, anyway.
"So…" Quinn began, her hands clasping behind her back in an innocent manner. "What does this book say to do next?"
"Well," Rachel adjusted her tie nervously. "It says to stand on the side of your broom with your dominant hand on the inside. Then, you put all your focus onto said hand and the broom and give a confident command of 'Up'. The broom will rise, and you place both hands firmly on the handle before lifting one leg over the broom to straddle it. You adjust your weight until it is in the dead center, lean forward, and off you go."
"Just like that?" Santana smirked, crossing her arms over her chest.
"Just like that," Rachel nodded.
"So, you think that after reading this book, you will be able to fly like the best of them?"
"Well, perhaps not the best of them, I mean, I am only a beginner at the craft, but I suppose I will be able to fly moderately well at first, advancing to the best of them after a few lessons. The book is written by an expert wizard who has spent hours and hours running experiments and deciphering the data in order to give the general public a book that will allow them to fly as if they have been doing it their entire lives."
"So, wait," Santana was now laughing openly. "The book wasn't even written by an expert flyer, but by a scientist?"
"Who spent hours—"
"No amount of time in a lab is going to prepare you for being a hundred feet in the air with nothing in between you and the ground other than a stick of wood."
"We'll see," Rachel crossed her arms stubbornly.
"Do you now know who her father is?" Quinn questioned. "Slytherin was three for three in Quidditch Cups under his captaincy. I think she knows a bit more about flying than you do."
"Let her be," Santana held a hand out to stop her friend's defense. "I could use a good laugh, and she could use a good knocking back down to her place."
Quinn shook her head, "Her funeral."
"Alright you bunch of Nancy Girls, line up!" a gruff voice commanded, and Santana looked up to see Coach Tenaka, the flying instructor, walking over to them.
"Should I be offended at being called a Nancy Girl?" Quinn turned to Santana in confusion.
Santana shrugged and stood up straight next to her broom.
"On my count, command your broom!" he instructed, bringing a whistle in between his rounded cheeks. "Three…two…one…"
At the sound of the whistle a series of 'up's' could be heard throughout the practice field.
"Up," Santana commanded.
Her broom wiggled.
She straightened up, eyeing her broom sternly. "Up."
It wiggled harder.
"Up, pedazo de mierda!" she growled, and the broom shot up, slapping against her hand. "Ow!" her yell was drowned out in the chorus of 'up's' that was still being commanded. She looked around, realizing she was the first one to get her broom in her hand. Quinn met her eye with a frown before turning back to her own broom.
"Up..." She cleared her throat, "Up."
Quinn's broom rose, and she caught it smoothly. Hazel eyes turned towards brown in gloat. Santana shrugged. So what if her hand would be bruised for days? She was still the first one to get her broom up.
One by one the rest of the students got their brooms to obey until every student stood with broom in hand—Santana's smirk grew at the knowledge that Rachel's was one of the last brooms to rise.
"On my count, mount your broom!" Coach Tenaka instructed. "Three...two...one..."
The whistle blew, and Santana grabbed her broom firmly in both hands, pushing it down some like her father had shown her so that it was at a reachable height, and carefully mounted it. She released her pressure on the broom, and it rose back to its normal height, hovering over the ground, her toes barely grazing the grass. This task took much less time for the other students to complete—although, Rachel did manage to flip completely over the broom on her first try and had to get assistance on her second.
Next was the boring part of the class where each student had a turn to try and fly to the far end of the practice pitch and back. Last class, nobody had completed the task. Santana had come the closest, but when she reached the far wall of the pitch and went to turn, her broom went crazy and bucked her completely off before flying away. She had to walk the whole way back on her own two feet. She prayed that she did better this time. Her father had taught her how to mount a broom, but he had never let her fly on her own, and flying on a top of the line broom under her father's hand and supervision was vastly different from flying on a splintered twig all by herself.
One bye one, she watched as her classmates tried and failed to complete the task. Finn Hudson did come close to finishing, much to Santana's confusion and dismay. But when he was nearly back to where the group of First Years was gathered, he threw his hands in the air in victory, and fell off the side of his broom. Next was Noah Puckerman who made it all the way to the opposite side, but never made the turn, instead flying straight into the wall of the Quidditch pitch.
"Ready to pay up?" Quinn smiled smugly from where she sat on her broom next to her.
Santana just waved her off as the round boy, Karofsky, kicked off the ground and his broom took flight. His broom flew high into the air at a sharp angle. Santana had to squint to be able to see the tiny dot that was Karofsky high among the clouds. Next thing she knew, that tiny dot was approaching the ground, just as quickly as it had taken off. Karofsky plummeted into the ground, broom first, not three feet from where he had started. A sickening crack followed by the boy's cries filled the pitch.
"What was that?!" Tenaka yelled as he hurried over to the crumpled First Year. "Azimio, come here and help this idiot to the infirmary. It looks like he broke his arm."
"I think I'm dying, Coach" Karofsky cried as Azimio helped him up.
"Boy, you are not dying; you are merely stinking up my field! Now get out of my sight."
Karofsky wimpered as Azimio led him off the pitch and towards the hospital wing.
Santana grinned, sitting up straighter on her broom, "That's my boy."
Coach Tenaka called Rachel up next. The tiny brunette took a deep breath as Tenaka pulled her broom to the front of the group before taking a step back. "On my whistle," he commanded. "Three...two...one..."
At the sound of the whistle, Rachel kicked off of the ground and leaned forward. Instead of broom flying towards the far wall, however, it shot backwards, nearly taking out Coach Tenaka in the process. Rachel hastily pulled up on the nose of the broom before she rammed into the wall behind her, and she slid right off the back of the broom despite her death grip on the handle, landing with a hard thump on the ground.
"I should have bet on her," Quinn shook her head.
Santana burst into laughter.
"Alright Lopez, you're up next," Coach Tenaka called out.
The laughter died in Santana's throat as Tenaka pulled her by the broom to the front of the crowd. His whistle blew, and Santana pushed off the ground carefully. Her path to the end of the pitch was wobbly, but she held her course. She slowed as she reached the turn and took it much easier than she had the previous week, guiding the broom through the curve instead of forcing it. She let out a sigh of relief when she made it through the turn still planted firmly on the broom. Her flight back was steadier than the flight there, but still a bit shaky. The broom was old, and her small arms were already growing tired from forcing it to stay straight. She slowed as she returned to the group of First Years and carefully came to a stop just as her father had taught her. She dismounted her broom and turned to the flying instructor with a confident smirk, fighting back the excitement that was bubbling under her skin as she realized she had just successfully completed her first solo flight.
Coach Tenaka nodded at her, making a mark next to her name on the clipboard he was holding before calling out to the final person on the list who had not flown yet: Quinn Fabray.
Quinn's flight, while slower than Santana's and a bit wobblier, kept Santana on the edge of her toes. She was on her way back when Santana realized that Quinn might just make it, and she wouldn't be the only First Year in Slytherin and Hufflepuff to complete their first task in just their second week. As she approached the group, though, Santana could see there was something wrong. Quinn's broom was becoming wobblier and wobblier. She narrowed her eyes, and realized that Quinn's grip was nowhere near tight enough on the broom's handle. Now Santana was on her toes for an entirely different reason. Quinn's broom jerked left before jerking sharply back in the other direction, and Santana held her breath as Quinn let go of the broom completely and fell to the ground, rolling softly in the grass before stopping on bent knee.
Santana let out a relieved breath for her friend before her smirk reformed; she was still the only First Year in Hufflepuff and Slytherin to have completed the task.
"You see that, class?" Coach Tenaka called excitedly as he rushed over to Quinn and helped her up onto her feet. "That is how you successfully dismount a broom in an emergency situation: tuck, roll, and rise onto your knee to survey your surroundings. Let's have a round of applause for Miss Fabray."
The class applauded Quinn as she returned to the group. Santana clapped twice before her arms fell back to her sides with a roll of her eyes.
"You still owe me two Galleons," she informed Quinn as they made their way back to the Common Room to get ready for supper.
"Jealousy does not suit you, Santana."
"Bite me, Quinny."
"I am just saying," Santana continued as they made their way up the spiral staircase to the top of the Astronomy tower for their first lesson. They hadn't had Astronomy the first week of the term thanks to Peeves the Poltergiest holing himself up in the tower in order to throw water balloons down at the students from a near-deadly height—a Second Year Gryffindor was still in the hospital wing with a severe concussion. "They keep me awake this late, then the least they could do is have a bit of tea waiting for us up there."
"Well, word has it that Professor Castle does like herself a bit of a drink here and there, if you're thirsty," Lauren Zises, a Slytherin First Year who was the size of a third year, piped up from behind her and Quinn.
"Not the kind of drink I had in mind, but nice to know," Santana nodded thoughtfully.
The group of Slytherin First Years made their way through the door at the top of the tower to find the 'classroom' completely empty void a fire pit in the center of the structure, lighting up the night. Santana and Quinn immediately set out to pick the perfect vantage point for setting up their telescopes: not perfect to see the stars, but perfect in that it was right next to turret containing the door to the stairs so that only one side of their work space was open for another pair to work, leaving them as secluded as they could be. Quinn liked it quiet when she worked; Santana was tired of being constantly surrounded by idiots.
The door next to them opened and a middle-aged teacher with unnaturally red hair and a rectangular pair of black glasses stumbled through.
"Hey-o!" she grinned when she steadied herself out.
"Something tells me Zises's assessment of a "bit" of a drink was an understatement," Santana rolled her eyes.
"Alright class, I am Professor Brenda Castle, and this is First Year Astronomy. If you would all set up your books and turn your telescopes to page, wait..." Professor Castle giggled. "Switch that. Reverse. You know what I mean, hold on...we're missing some people. Where is the other House?"
"Man," Santana groaned. "I had been hoping we would have it solo like with Charms and History of Magic."
"As long as it is not Hufflepuff again. I do not think I can stand three classes with them in one day," Quinn admitted.
The sound of arguing voices could be heard making their way up the tower. The door next to them opened and a small blonde pushed her way through. The fire ring in the middle of the class danced inside blue eyes.
"Score," Brittany nodded as she looked around before turning back to the rest of the Gryffindor First Years that were making their way out onto the top of the Astronomy tower. "I told you I could find it."
"Yea, after nearly getting us killed by some three-headed dog," a boy with a baby soft face replied as he straightened his scarf.
Santana wondered if anybody informed him that it was practically still summer out.
"Alright, now, settle down," Professor Castle raised her hands to get their attention. "Gryffindor, go on and partner up and find a spot to set up shop. We are already a week and a few minutes behind schedule, so we have a lot to do, and I have somewhere to be."
"Yea, a bar!" a voice that sounded an awful lot like Lauren's shouted out.
The Gryffindors quickly split up into pairs as they masked their snickering behind hands, everybody grabbing somebody and ignoring Brittany as she asked around for a partner. Soon, it was down to just Brittany and the girl from the Great Lake with round cheeks and crazy hair. Mercedes, Santana remembered.
Mercedes looked around with a hint of exasperation before she sighed, "Oh, it's cause I'm black, isn't it?"
Santana snorted out a laugh as Mercedes took the dejected looking girl by the arm and led her over to the only available spot left, right next to Quinn and Santana.
"Hey Brittany," Santana greeted.
"Hey!" Brittany's expression immediately lifted. "I didn't know we were having Astronomy with y'all."
"Looks like it," Santana nodded.
"Hey Quinn," Brittany smiled across Santana at the hazel eyed girl who was busy making last minute adjustments to her telescope.
"Hey," Quinn replied absentmindedly.
"Quinn takes this kind of stuff seriously," Santana explained.
Quinn sighed, "If by this kind of stuff, you mean school and my education and my future and my family name, then yes, Santana, I take it very seriously."
"Whoa," Mercedes's eyes widened. "Angry white girl."
"Totally," Brittany nodded.
Santana chortled, before holding a hand out, "Santana Lopez."
"Mercedes Jones," Mercedes eyed her carefully before returning the handshake. "Lopez, huh? Like Lord Lopez?"
"So you've heard of me," Santana stood as tall as she could.
"I've heard of your father," Mercedes corrected. "My dad double times in the Muggle world too; he's a dentist."
Santana's shoulders fell.
"Don't worry," Brittany placed a hand on the back of her shoulder, "I had never heard of you or your parents, and we still turned out to be friends."
Santana wanted to point out that it wasn't friendship that she was after in this instance, but Brittany had already moved on and started assembling her telescope. As Santana watched her, she found herself wondering if she would have let this friendship of sorts ever happen if Brittany had known who her parents were, if she would have thought more of the small girl than she did all those wannabes from her previous school that had followed her around, hanging on her every word simply because of her title; furthermore, she wondered if Brittany would've even wanted to be her friend if she was familiar with her family.
Santana shook her head, of course she would. In the Muggle world, the story of the Lopez title and her father's rise to power was one for the storybooks, and in the Wizarding World, well...in the Wizarding world, her story was the stuff of legends. The merging of two of the most powerful Wizard families, the Lopezes and the Blacks, through matrimony and the production of a singular heir: Santana Marie Lopez.
She found herself holding her head higher at her own thoughts, realizing that she had just found a way to quicken even further her rise to the top. Before, at primary school—a mostly Muggle School that was one of the most expensive private school's in the country, which of course was why her mother insisted she attend there—they knew her as Lady Santana Lopez, daughter of Earl Lopez, a wealthy and highly influential surgeon who was the doctor of choice to royalty. But as for her mother, a woman whose family was pure wizard and nothing less, her Muggle peers knew nothing of; she was merely Lord Lopez's young trophy wife to them. Here, though, her mother's family was the royalty. The Blacks were a family of pure blood wizards that could trace their bloodline back to the beginning of written records. They had more money than they knew what to do with and more fear-based respect than any other family in current existence. When Evelyn Black married Lord Lopez, prized healer of the highest Ministry of Magic officials, it was one for the record books. Then, when Santana was born, the two families were sealed together permanently, not through law, but through blood.
Santana's eyes moved around the open aired room, taking in her classmates. They knew her as Santana, her professors as Miss Lopez, but had any of them put the two together? And if they had, had they realized that she wasn't just one of the dozens of Santana Lopez's that had popped up after her birth as people started to copy the oft gossiped about name, but the Santana Lopez. The very Santana Lopez that many of their parents sent gifts to as news of her birth spread and still send gifts to despite never having met her?
The left side of Santana's mouth curled upwards. At her primary school, she was Lady Santana, daughter of an Earl. That is the side her peers knew; that is the side she played to. But now, she was realizing that she had an entirely different audience. They didn't care about some girl whose father was an Earl in the Muggle world. But the girl whose very being signified the unification of two of the most powerful and feared families in Wizard history? Her, they'll most definitely care about.
"Santana?"
Santana's eyes blinked rapidly as the sound of her name shook her out of her thoughts. She found Quinn, Brittany, and Mercedes all staring at her, seemingly waiting for something.
"Where'd you go?" Brittany asked.
"I have the feeling we probably do not want to know the answer to that," Quinn replied, eyeing her friend wearily.
"Why are you all staring at me?" Santana asked in confusion.
"Blondie here asked if you needed help setting up your telescope," Mercedes motioned towards Brittany. "And you just stood there, ignoring us while you were busy looking the like Grinch on Christmas Eve."
"Oh, my telescope," Santana jumped right to work, pulling it out of the box and opening the instructions. "I nearly forgot."
"Because who would think you'd need a telescope for Astronomy," Mercedes eyes gauged her cautiously before she shook her head. "I can see why you and Blondie are friends."
"You know, she has a name," Santana replied, straightening up after she had carefully placed her telescope on its stand and fastened it into place. She could see the calculating look in Mercedes' eyes as she took her in once more.
After a moment's pause, Mercedes nodded, "You're right, my bad."
Santana nodded and turned back to her telescope to finish setting it up.
++gw++
Santana huffed as she made her way back down through the dungeons towards the Slytherin House. After the long day she'd had, it was as if her feet gained an extra ten pounds with each step she took. The huge telescope she was lugging on her back was not helping matters either. Quinn shuffled her own telescope from one shoulder to the other as she walked next to Santana, looking equally as tired. Santana cleared her throat when she could no longer ignore the feeling of her friend's eyes boring a hole into the side of her head.
"I know my hair is worthy of worship, Q, but you aren't going to find the answers to the universe there."
"Were did you go earlier?" Quinn questioned as she slowed her steps, putting even more distance between the pair of them and the rest of their classmates up ahead.
"To a freaking epiphany," Santana raised her arms, excitedly, suddenly not so tired at the remembrance of her plan. "I cannot believe I hadn't thought of it. All those years at the Muggle school has nearly caused me to forget the very importance of my being. I spent so much time playing a Muggle with my Muggle peers, that I nearly forgot who I am in the Wizard world."
"And who is that?" Quinn asked, only half-interested.
"Royalty," Santana nodded.
Quinn openly scoffed.
"I'm serious," Santana shoved her. With her tired arms, though, she didn't even cause Quinn to stumble.
"Okay, okay, and you are royalty how?"
"Come on, Q, you know who my parents are. You know where they come from."
Quinn shrugged, but her eyes darkened.
Santana's smile grew. Quinn did know the story of her family. She had seen the way her eyes would flash green with envy every time they were out and about in the Wizard world and somebody recognized Santana or her name. She had seen the way Quinn smirked whenever she would forgettingly threaten a teacher at her primary school with 'Wait until my mother hears about this', and the teacher would only laugh. She could practically read the words pressed behind Quinn's lips: Not so famous now, huh?
"So what are you planning on doing about it? Go around handing out flyers with your family tree on it?" Quinn replied.
"No, you were right the other day. It has to happen naturally, subtlety. It'll just be another notch on the 'Why Everyone Should Bow Down To Santana Lopez' pole."
"The anticipation is killing me," Quinn rolled her eyes as they entered their Common Room and made their way up the couple of stairs to the dorms.
Santana walked over to the tree which she had lay under the previous weekend and looked around before settling under its branches, watching as the dropping sun's rays stretched across the right side of the lake. She was supposed to meet Brittany here and bring her back to the Slytherin dorm so they could work on their Potions homework. It was Thursday, the day of Slytherin's Quidditch tryouts, so Professor Sylvester had cancelled class for the day, but set an inordinate amount of homework that would be due Friday's lesson the next day. As Quinn had pointed out, Santana had known about the assignment all week, but that didn't mean that she didn't have better things to do than hunch over a bunch of books every evening.
"Hey," a soft voice caused Santana to nearly jump out of her skin. She was on her feet in an instant, looking all about for the origin of the voice. A gentle tug to her hair caused her to spin around and come face to face with an upside-down Brittany S. Pierce. "Hey," Brittany repeated with a goofy smile.
"Hey," Santana smiled back as she took a step back to fully take Brittany in. The blue-eyed girl was hanging upside down with her legs hooked over a branch, her untucked uniform shirt sliding down, or perhaps it would be up, her stomach. "Brittany," Santana shook her head with a soft laugh as Brittany righted herself and sat atop the branch. "What are you doing in a tree?"
"Watching."
"Watching what?"
"The dance," Brittany motioned around them.
"Well, how about you take a break and come work with me on our Potions homework?"
"Okay," Brittany nodded, gathering her bag that was hanging off of a short branch and jumping out of the tree, landing lightly on her feet before Santana could finish her cautioned, "Careful."
"Nervous?" Brittany questioned, an eyebrow raised.
"With you? Always," Santana admitted truthfully.
Brittany giggled and Santana joined in, leading the way down to the Slytherin dungeon.
++gw++
A loud clamoring at the door caused Santana to look up from her homework with a scowl. Didn't people know that she was trying to be a good student? When she took in the sight of a group of her fellow first years filing through the door, covered in grass and mud and looking thoroughly dejected, though, she couldn't help but let out a loud laugh. Quinn looked up, and covered her mouth to stifle her giggle.
"I take it things did not go as planned?" Santana questioned as Rick passed, limping.
"Shut up, Lopez," he bit back.
Santana cocked an eyebrow, "How about a black eye to go with that bloody nose of yours?"
He swallowed and slouched away, through the door that led to the boys' dormitories.
"What's going on?" Brittany asked. "And why does everyone look like they just ran with the bulls? I thought that was a Spanish thing. Aren't we in Britain?"
"Quidditch tryouts," Santana replied before reaching out to stop a muddied Lauren Zises as she passed. Santana pulled her hand back and wiped it on a nearby book bag that appeared to have been left behind by its owner. "What happened? Why is it just First Years that are coming back?"
"They said we were slowing down the tryouts, so they kicked us out," Lauren frowned before continuing on her way towards the stairs to the girls' dormitories.
"Oh yeah," Brittany nodded. "Quidditch. Professor Holiday was talking about that the other day."
"Yeah, I heard Gryffindor's tryouts are Saturday," Santana replied. "Don't know what time though. They've been very secretive about it all week."
"Why does it matter what time they are?" Quinn questioned.
"Because I was planning on planting a few stink bombs in the locker room while they were out on the field, so all of their stuff would smell nice and ripe when they were done. You know, as a sort of reminder of how bad their team is going to stink up the field this year."
"A stink bomb, Santana? Really? Could you be any more juvenile?"
"Got any better ideas?"
"None that are going to be wasted on some stupid tryouts."
"Or maybe you still have a soft spot for Gryffindor."
"Shut up, Lopez, before I make you shut up," Quinn's voice came out in a low growl.
Santana rolled her eyes, but went back to her homework. She knew the Gryffindor subject was still a sore one, and that she may have went too far with that comment, but nobody called her ideas stupid or juvenile.
"Well, either way, it doesn't matter," she shrugged. "Because nobody from Gryffindor is talking."
"Looks like you'll have to find another occasion to send your message," Quinn nodded.
Santana gave a small smile that Quinn returned before she continued her essay. It was the closest thing to an apology either of them was going to give.
++gw++
'And that is why, despite its seeming uselessness, the Flobberworm has a useful amount of usefulness in Potions making,' Santana finished off her essay on the many uses of Flobberworm mucus with a frown. "Good enough," she muttered, rubbing her eyes before looking at her left hand with a groan. It was covered in ink, ink that would do doubtedly now be all over her face.
"I hate quills."
"Me too," Brittany nodded, finishing off her own essay with a sentence that made about as much sense as Santana's. They were up past midnight for the second day in a row, and their essays had stopped being coherent about an forty-five minutes ago. Even Quinn had grown tired of repeating her mantra of "I told you so" over and over and gone to bed.
"I wish we could use pencils like in primary school," Santana sighed, rubbing the side of her hand on a spare bit of parchment. "Even the pens we used never smeared this bad. Being a lefty sucks something major."
"I just find it so plain," Brittany contemplated the essay before her. "It's just so boring and black. I have enough trouble with words without them all looking the same and blending together. Plus, colored ink is so much more fun."
Santana nodded in agreement before she sighed and started putting all of her things back in her book bag. Brittany did the same and soon the entire table was cleared. Santana looked around and realized that they were the only two left still in the Common Room.
"Like this," Brittany gave a tired smile as she waved her arm to the room around her. "Everything in here looks green and wonderful. It's like I'm wearing green lensed sunglasses when I'm in here."
"You don't find it too gloomy?" Santana asked, watching as Brittany made her way around the room. She followed her slowly.
"Gloomy? Of course not. Green is the color of grass and trees. It's the color of nature. It's the color of life," she replied simply.
Santana smiled as they stopped at the door that led back out into the hallway.
"Do you think it's too gloomy?"
"Sometimes it feels more like home than home ever did; other times I feel claustrophobic," she shrugged, knowing that if she were any less tired, she would not be being this honest.
"Well, thank you for doing your homework with me," Brittany caught her gaze. "Focusing has never been my strong suit, so it helps to have someone there, making sure I get it done."
"It's no problem," Santana waved her off. "I mean, I had to do mine anyway, so it's not a big deal..."
Brittany tilted her head, holding her eyes when she tried to look away.
"And you know, you're my friend, and like, friend's do stuff like this and help each other and stuff," she finished with a gulp, wondering where the sudden nerves were coming from.
Brittany gave a soft giggle, and Santana felt her ears heating up.
"What?"
"You haven't had a lot of friends besides Quinn, have you?"
"I have had plenty of friends," Santana argued. "I was extremely popular at my old school."
"Being popular and having friends are two different things," she shook her head.
"No, they are not."
"Yes, they are," she giggled again. "How many of these people you were popular with would visit you when you were sick, or tell you honestly if you were having a bad hair day, or would keep your biggest secret even if they knew it could ruin your entire reputation?"
Santana's ears were burning hot now.
"How many of them have kept in touch now that you go to different schools?"
Santana clenched her fists tightly at her sides.
"Santana, it's okay," Brittany soothed, reaching for her arm.
Santana backed away, "No, it's not. You are making fun of me, and I do not like being made fun of. I do the teasing, its not the other way around, and if you knew what I am capable of—"
"It's okay," Brittany repeated, blue eyes completely open and earnest. "I wasn't laughing at you; friends don't do that. I just think it's cute."
And just like that, her anger started to subside.
"I'll be your friend, Santana."
And just like that, Santana couldn't even remember why she was upset in the first place, "I-I don't think I'd be very good at it."
"I can teach you."