I'm so so sorry this took me ages to update - I've been at university (where I'm studying Creative Writing) and it's been keeping me really busy. Anyway, I've read your feedback and this chapter revolves around a couple of students with less perspective changes. It's also over 2,000 long so enjoy!

Holger Jackson 'Jack' Thomas - 7th Year - Hufflepuff

Out of all the subjects I studied, History of Magic was not my most favourite. I mean, don't get me wrong, I think it's amazing to get the real version of the Salem Witch Trials, but it wasn't as practical as some of the other subjects. I mean, comparing this to blocking hexes in Defense Against the Dark Arts made it seem really tedious.

I often spent the lunchtimes like this - sitting in an empty classroom, working. I mean, the dormitories were always too loud to study, the library never has an empty seat because of all the noise from the dormitories, and it was beginning to get cold, meaning I couldn't study outside.

The door banged open, and I saw Professor Romley march in, pulling one of my classmates, Donovan O'Toole, in by the ear. He led Donovan over to a chair behind a desk and dropped him down into it.

"You will stay here until the end of break," he informed him angrily. He then looked over to me. "Thomas!"

"Yes sir?"

"Don't let him get out of this chair," Romley drifted his gaze back towards Donovan, "or I will have to tie him to it."

Romley maintained his glare at Donovan, who simply smirked back, leaning back in his chair and placing his feet on the desk. Eventually, Romley snapped around with a growl and exited the room, slamming the door shut behind him.

Donovan remained leaning in his chair for a moment - then he saw me.

"Thomas?" He asked slowly. "Right? Hogarth Thomas?"

"Holger," I corrected him, "I prefer Jack." I said, looking back down to my work. In less than a moment, Donovan scoffed, and therefore demanded my attention.

"Jack?" He scoffed once more.

"Yes?"

"Why the hell would you call yourself Jack?"

"Because 'Holger' is a terrible name-"

"No, everyone knows that, by why 'Jack'? I mean, why not Donovan?"

"Well, my middle name's Jackson..."

At that moment, Donovan sat down again. This was purely because of how much he was laughing - his legs seemed to give out as he cackled loudly, and he clutched the corner of the desk to keep himself from rolling around onto the floor.

"What?" I asked him, getting slightly frustrated.

"That's got to be the dumbest reason for a nickname that I've ever heard!" He gasped between fits of laughter. I shook my head.

"At least it's better than 'Donny'..." I muttered under my breath.

Donovan immediately stopped laughing, and sat perfectly still, his eyes tracking my movements like a trained killer. I tried not to show my body tensing up, and kept my eyes down on my book. However, I didn't need to look at Donovan to tell he had his signature smirk plastered across his stupid face.

"Ooh, snappy comeback Headboy!" He sneered, grabbing the badge from my chest and holding it up in the light for examination. I immediately jumped up from my chair, reaching out for my badge.

"Give it back here-"

"Come on! I just want to see why McGonagall named you a Headboy!

"Shut up Dono-"

"Why'd she make you a prefect too?" He grinned, snatching the other badge off of my chest. "Come on Hogarth!"

"It's Holger you dumb-"

"Okay Holger!"

"What the hell is happening here?"

We both looked back to the door to see Professor Helter standing there.

Professor Helter was a peculiar woman; In her late thirties, and always clad in a set of royal purple robes, Professor Helter always appeared regal, especially with her hair curling down in golden spirals which would bounce up and down hypnotically as she stormed towards you - she would often lose her temper without any rational reason, and then unleash her rage upon the nearest standing pupil.

"I was examining his badge about head." Donovan said innocently.

I snatched my badges from Donovan, pinning them back onto my robes. Professor Helter simply glared at Donovan before speaking once more. And now,

"Twenty points from... Ravenclaw." She paused to double-check his azure robes.

"Twenty?" Donovan asked, cocking his head to the side.

"For blatant disrespect." Professor Helter spoke curtly.

"For Holger or...?"

"Jack!" I snarled under my breath.

"Thirty." She smiled her tight-lipped smile. "James!" In a moment, Professor Romley had appeared once again in the room. "Control your detainees." And Professor Helter had marched out of the classroom.

"Thomas, I thought I told you to make sure he didn't leave his chair!"

"Sir, I... he-"

"Don't blame Holger sir - I got restless is all." He said with a wink.

"Shut up O'Toole," Professor Romley snapped, casting his dark gaze towards me, "I expected better from you Thomas. Ten points from Hufflepuff."

"What? Why?" I began to splutter, completely flabbergasted.

"For disobeying a teacher."

"But that's unfair!"

"Get used to it Thomas. Now you'll watch O'Toole, or you'll have to explain to the rest of your house how you managed to lose so many points in a few short minutes."

I opened my mouth to reply, but thought better of it - talking wouldn't help me at all - I just had to bite my tongue and bear it.

"Good boy," Professor Romley said once I closed my mouth, "maybe you'll learn something after all."

And with that, Professor Romley exited.

I clenched my fists, shooting a look at Donovan - he had made me lose ten points for no good reason - I had only been taught by Professor Romley once - when he arrived in my fifth year as I was finishing my O.W.L in Defense Against the Dark Arts. He was never a nice man, but he was never this bad - not to me at least.

"In case you were wondering," Donovan leant over from his chair, "Romley's a dick to everyone."

"I'm not talking to you," I tried to ignore him, and focused on my book.

"Aw, come on princess - I'm sorry," Donovan gave a toothy grin. Idiot. "What if I plait your hair?"

I looked over to see him taking out his wand.

"Can you just not act like an arsehole for once? You can screw over your own house all you like, but I'm really busy here."

"Hogarth!" Donovan gasped sarcastically. "The Headboy being selfish?"

"I'm not being selfish-" I began to explain, then caught myself. No, he was trying to goad me into talking, but I wasn't falling for it. "You know what, I'm just going to finish my book, then I'm leaving.

"It's a detention, you can't leave." Donovan snorted.

"I'm not in detention, I'm revising." I replied curtly. Donovan burst out in hysterics once more, this time, tears beginning to well up in his eyes.

"You mean... you mean you're here... at lunchtime... revising?"

"Are you having trouble with putting a sentence together?"

"Well, someone's a little grouchy..." Donovan replied, settling into his chair.

I shook my head with a groan and tried to tune out Donovan's voice as I began to pack up my bags for my next lesson.

Aurora 'Rora' Valentine - 5th Year Ravenclaw

I came out of potions with a headache, a groan, and worryingly low morale.

"Hey, hey, Rora!" I turned around to see Cordelia Caverly running out from the classroom after me. Cordelia was taller, thinner and definitely prettier than I - I didn't desire her family though - pureblood elitists weren't really that fond of muggle-borns.

"Hey." I mumbled back, rubbing my temples.

"I just wanted to say sorry again - I'm sure Professor Cutmore said to include Beetroot..." Cordelia bit her lip in worry.

"It's fine, really." I said, closing my eyes. "I just need to sit down for a bit." I smiled politely. I began to walk up the stairs to make my way to Great Hall when I noticed Cordelia walking beside me.

"So, you trying out for the team this year?" She asked me with a dazzling smile.

"Quidditch?" I asked with a scoff. "No... Quidditch isn't really my thing..."

"How can Quidditch not be your thing? Everyone's into it."

"Just never really been that fond of it." I shrugged.

"Well, what are you fond of?" Cordelia asked - paying attention. It shocked me - why would she pay attention?

"Erm..." I struggled to find my words. "Choir."

Cordelia sniggered in response for a moment, then stopped, staring at me sadly.

"Oh, you were being serious..."

I stopped walking as we came to the top of the staircase.

"Look, I don't mean to be rude or anything, but we've never spoken... ever." Cordelia cocked her head to the side with intrigue. "Like, for the past four years."

"So?"

"So... this just feels a bit forced. I mean, you're Cordelia Caverly - you're practically royalty."

"Okay, first off, I prefer Cordi: less of a mouthful, and secondly, I just wanted to chat was all." Cordi shrugged. "Sorry if I crossed a boundary or something."

And before I could say any more, she had disappeared down the corridor, leaving me alone with a heavy feeling of guilt. I knew I had come off quite rude to her, but I didn't mean to be - I simply just... well, I guess I didn't understand why she suddenly decided to talk to me. I was just... me.

I walked into the Great Hall and placed my bag on the table, pulling out an ink jar and my textbook to double-check my notes. I reached into my bag for my quill and pulled it out with a bit too much of a jerk, splitting the nib into fragments. I cursed under my breath and rubbed my temples. This was all I needed - I couldn't ask my dad for another quill - every coin he earned went towards my supplies for school, and after saving up to buy me new robes this year, I couldn't ask him for more. I'd just have to attempt some repair charms, which were never really my strong suit...

"Are you alright?"

I looked up to see a broad-chested boy, sandy brown hair falling in straight clumps over a pair of dark ebony eyes. He swept a hand across his forehead, sweeping back the hair to see me more clearly, and in doing so, revealed a pair of sharp cheekbones, his skin taught as it wrapped around a strong jaw. There was something familiar about him - I couldn't place him, but I knew I had met him before...

I realized I must have been staring, since he pointed at my quill with a slightly awkward expression on his face.

"Your quill? It's... it's broken..."

I looked down at the quill and then back to him, snapping myself out of my daze with a shake of my head.

"Yeah... Yeah. I- I can be a little heavy-handed at times." I said with an embarrassed chuckle. He returned my smile and stretched out a hand.

"Dan."

I stretched out a hand and shook it.

"Rora."

He sat down next to me. I was certain I knew him, but I just...

"Why don't you repair it?"

"I'm kind of crappy with repairs," I confessed, "and I don't have any tape-"

"No, I meant with a charm." Dan stated. "It's easy enough."

"Yeah..." I scratched the back of my head, going slightly red at trying to explain that I found first-year charms still a bit iffy, "charms aren't really my strong suit..."

"Allow me." He said with a smile, pulling out his wand.

In one fluid flourish of his wand, the fragments of my quill slipped back together, as good as new. I looked up at him, raising an eyebrow.

"You can do spells non-verbally?" I asked, genuinely impressed.

"You can't?" I felt embarrassment once again, and picked up my quill, dipping it in the ink. "Sorry... I didn't mean to offend you."

"No, I just..." I rubbed my eyes, "I've got a bit of a headache. I haven't really slept all that well."

Dan's smile was dazzling for sure - his teeth weren't exactly straight, nor were they the whitest, but his eyes were deep. They were warm. And he was... well... he was nice.

"Have I got something on my teeth?" He asked, his smile fading as he narrowed his eyes. Of course - I was staring again.

"Sorry." I looked down at my notes, trying to distract myself. "I just... I thought I recognized you." Dan cocked his head to the side with a grin. Suddenly, a clue popped into my head. "Palm!" I half-shouted. "You're Daniel Palm right?"

His grin vanished, and his lips turn into a strained frown.

"Don't break your quill again."

And with that, he upped and vanished into the crowds of the Great Hall, who were all arriving from lessons and sorting themselves into study groups or friendship circles around the tables. I groaned, turning back to my textbook. That was two people I'd offended in the space of twenty minutes. I really wasn't the best at talking today. Or any other day. I guess I just wasn't the best at talking in general - I often scared people off from being too loud or too blunt. I preferred potions - it was easy. Put in the right amount, stir, add x quantity of y and mix in granulated z. With people... it just got more complicated. And so I simply sighed, and started to write once more.