Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

When Onoda had been called downstairs by his mother to open his mail, he could comfortably say that he hadn’t known what to expect. In all his eleven years, he could count on one hand the number of times he had received mail addressed to himself (one of those times had been a flyer for a lawnmower sale, one had been an official reprimand from school, and another a postcard from his aunt on vacation in Majorca who had since apparently forgotten she had a nephew, as she never sent anything again), so despite previous experience telling him not to expect anything particularly special, he was curious nonetheless.

By the time Onoda entered the kitchen, his mother had already resumed what she had been doing prior to calling him down-- this time, it looked like she was doing the ironing. It was a familiar sight to see in the morning. Her short curly hair was held out of her eyes with a scarf and she was humming to herself as she worked, several baskets of wrinkled laundry still waiting by her feet. There was a large stack of what appeared to be utility bills laid out on the table and she seemed to be resolutely attempting to pretend they weren’t there.

“Good morning Sakamichi,” she said cheerfully, plucking another shirt out of a laundry basket and laying it flat on the ironing board. “Have you eaten anything yet today?”

Onoda hadn’t. He had been intending to join his mother for breakfast earlier, as he in turn intended to do every day, but as usual he had been distracted by his collection of comics and DVDs and had completely forgotten about going to breakfast until his mother’s voice had pulled him away. With this reminder, however, he felt his stomach twist with hunger. After making his way over to the counter, he took two slices of bread from the bag and popped them into the toaster.

“Sorry I didn’t come for breakfast earlier,” Onoda muttered, the first twinges of guilt now combining with the hunger that was creeping at his insides to create an unmovable knot. He didn’t like missing any of the meals that they were both at home for, since the times they were able to sit down to a meal together were getting fewer as time passed. “Are you working today?”

She nodded, not pausing in her task. “Yes, yes, but not until this afternoon. I’ll be at a late shift tonight so I’ll fix you something for supper before I leave. It’ll be in the fridge so you’ll be able to put it in the microwave whenever you’re ready to eat.”

Onoda nodded mechanically, wishing he could do more than just agree with her and pretend to buy into the mindset that everything was fine and normal. He hovered awkwardly as he waited for his toast to be finished, not wanting to bother his mother but wanting to know what he had come downstairs for in the first place. “You said I had mail?”

“Ah, you’re right. Here,” she said, selecting an envelope from the pile one handed and offering it to him as she continued to iron one of Onoda’s shirts with the other. “There’s no stamp though. Strange.”

He took the envelope to her, and immediately realized that there was something stranger about it than the absence of a stamp. The envelope was made of thick, old-fashioned looking paper and signed with emerald-green ink, but what was perhaps even stranger was the very specific way the letter had been addressed. His own name, Sakamichi Onoda, was written on the front, as well as his home address and other information often found on a letter (minus a return address, he noted). Onoda, as previously mentioned, did not often receive mail so he could’ve been wrong, but he somehow doubted that most people would deem it necessary to not only specify the city, street, and address of his house, but also to mention that Onoda occupied the secondary bedroom upstairs when they addressed their letters to him.

Onoda glanced at his mother for an explanation, but she was hard at work still and he decided not to interrupt her.

The envelope was sealed with red wax, and opened with a satisfying pop as he slid his thumb through the crease. There were several pages to the letter, so he began with the first and unfolded it, curious as to what it could be about. The first page was a brief handwritten note, which succeeded only in raising more questions than it answered.

Dear Mr. Onoda,

We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.
Term begins on September 1. We await your owl by no later than July 31.

He’d apparently been accepted into some kind of school? But that was strange--Onoda couldn’t remember his mother mentioning wanting to enroll him in a school with this-- admittedly odd--name. They had discussed his schooling options already and they had been very limited. He would have remembered if he had heard about it before.

And on top of that, this was apparently school that taught “witchcraft and wizardry”?

Onoda blinked several times, convinced he had misread the note somehow, but even after reading it through again he was convinced that that was indeed what it said.

For that matter, what did it mean by “owl”?

He quickly turned to the next page, futilely hoping that the following page would explain the last. This page was not laid out like a letter, and Onoda decided that this was probably the list of supplies the first page had promised. Knowing that this was a list for a school, even if it was a strange school, Onoda had at least expected it to include normal school supplies, such as books, pencils, paper, and maybe a pair of trainers that were suitable for physical activity.

Although a number of books were on the list, he really hadn’t been expecting to see titles like The Standard Book of Spells or One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi listed as required reading. Perhaps he should have, though, if this was indeed a school of “witchcraft and wizardry”. The list also mentioned a variety of other objects that were unusual requirements for a student attending a conventional school, such as sets of phials, robes, and even a cauldron and a wand.

Was this letter even real?

And if it was, Onoda wondered, how could they possibly afford all of this?

The final page was considerably more substantial than the preceding two, and only slightly more informative.

A Note for Students From Muggle (Non-Magical) Families:

You have received this attachment in addition to the standard first-year acceptance letter, as our information has indicated that your family has had no prior contact with the magical community and is therefore uninformed about what may be expected at this juncture. While the revelation that magic and magic practitioners are real may have come as a shock to you, we wish now to provide have our assurances that Hogwarts is a legitimate, first-class educational institution staffed by highly skilled instructors. Hogwarts boasts a rich history, challenging hands-on lessons spanning a seven-year program, and a vibrant social atmosphere. The school itself occupies a beautiful scenic area in an undisclosed location and features grounds made up of acres of untouched wilderness, making it a popular choice for parents of young witches or wizards who are looking to provide an immersive and exciting educational experience for their children.

For muggle families, finances have historically been an issue in purchasing supplies and textbooks required for courses. The school understands that this is in many cases unavoidable, particularly since muggle money is not an accepted currency within the magical community. Therefore, every year Hogwarts sponsors muggle-born children invited to attend the school and provides them with the basic necessities required to perform exceptionally in their studies. Please contact the Hogwarts staff via owl if you wish to opt out of this program.

To assist in the purchasing of school supplies and to answer any questions you may have, a member of the Hogwarts staff will be arriving at your house at 11:00 AM sharp on July 25. We look forward to making your acquaintance this September.

Onoda wasn’t entirely sure, but he thought some of the passages within the seemingly cookie-cutter educational institution description sounded vaguely foreboding.

Also foreboding was the fact that apparently a member of this school’s staff had apparently invited themself over, specifying the date and even the time. It was like whoever was running this school was just assuming that Onoda would be going.

But then again, this school had promised to cover the basic costs of Onoda attending. In light of his and his mother’s current situation, he doubted he could ignore that. This place also seemed like it might be interesting, maybe even fun if it was actually a real place and not made up. At least it would be, apart from Onoda’s suspicion that it was a trick.

“You’ll probably want to read this, mom,” Onoda said, putting the pages back in order hastily before handing them to her.

Onoda watched her face pensively as she read, reading in her expression vague confusion, slowly progressing into sincere incomprehension. She took her time reading, and Onoda realized then that he’d entirely forgotten that he had been making breakfast and that his toast had popped long ago. He took a plate out of the cupboard and took his toast from the machine, not liking the thought of wasting food even if eating cold toast was not the most appetizing thing.

“Oh, Sakamichi, this is wonderful!”

Onoda nearly dropped his toast.

Whatever he had been expecting, it hadn’t been that.

“Uh, what’s wonderful, mom?” he asked cautiously.

“You’ve just been personally invited to a very impressive sounding school, Sakamichi! It sounds like one of those old prestigious schools that the rich families send their children to, and they even offered to provide funding so you could go there. How did this happen? Did you take a proficiency test in class? Did one of your teachers send a recommendation?” she asked, eyes glowing with happiness in a way they hadn’t in a long time.

Onoda shifted uncomfortably. Whatever had gotten Onoda’s name on that letter hadn’t been his performance in school, that was a for sure. His marks were mediocre at best, he had no athletic talent, and to say he had no social life would be an understatement given that his classmates tended to actively avoid him. But his mother seemed so happy... Onoda didn’t want to dispel her fantasy of having a talented, well-adjusted son just yet.

“Maybe?” he hazarded a reply. “I really don’t know why I got this letter. But you’re... you’re okay with it?”

She ruffled his hair fondly. “Of course I’m okay with it,” she said. “I’m proud of you, and I’m very happy for you as well. This is a very exciting opportunity.”

“But what about... it says it’s a school of witchcraft and wizardry, mom. What would they even teach there?”

“Witchcraft and wizardry, one would assume,” she replied playfully.

“Mom,” Onoda said, bordering on exasperated. “Magic isn’t real.”

Onoda’s mother smiled, leaning in and patting Onoda’s cheek fondly, the way she used to before he’d gotten old enough to find it embarrassing. “Sakamichi, there are many things in this world that I don’t understand, and I probably never will. But I feel like you’ve been given a chance to learn about some of them, and I don’t want doubt to rob you of this chance.” she smiled. “I know I haven’t given you the easiest or happiest childhood by keeping you with me, and I regret that, which is why I think that you’ll be happier if you trust what this letter says and consider attending this school. Even if things are difficult at first, or if they’re frightening, I believe that you’ll find that you are a much braver and stronger person than you were before. Even though...” she trailed off, wiping at her eyes, which were looking suspiciously watery, “I’d miss you every second you’re gone.”

Onoda blinked, confused. “What do you mean, mom? Why would you miss me? I’m not--”

“This would be a boarding school, Sakamichi,” she explained gently. “These old country schools are all like that. You can’t be expected to live at home and then travel to school every day when it’s so far away now, can you? But this can be exciting too-- you’ll have a chance to live with your friends, and you’ll still be able to come home and visit for the summer.”

Onoda opened his mouth to reply, but the horror he experienced at that revelation temporarily robbed him of words. He was so stupid, he should have realized that it was a boarding school when it described the setting with words like “scenic” and “wilderness”, and, even more questionably, “undisclosed location”. Of course it wouldn’t be a school he could just walk to every day. Of course he’d have to move away to go there.

And friends? Onoda inwardly shuddered at the idea of living in shared quarters with other students his age and older. If these people didn’t hate him, Onoda would count himself lucky. It was extremely unlikely there would be any more friends for Onoda at this strange sounding school than there were at his last school. If there was one thing school had taught him that stuck with him, it was that Onoda was not friendship material. There was too much wrong with him for that.

“Sorry Sakamichi dear, we’ll have to continue this discussion another time,” his mother said, startling Onoda out of his thoughts. “I still have a whole list of chores to do before my shift starts. Why don’t you go upstairs and think on it a bit?”

Onoda sighed, eyes downcast. “Yeah, okay. I’ll do that.”

His mother placed a kiss on the top of his head. “Love you.”

He hunched his shoulders, unhappy, but he still replied, “Love you too.”

***

The letter occupied his thoughts throughout the entire day and persisted long into the night. He made numerous attempts to keep himself from thinking about it, marathoning one of his favourite series despite already knowing every line from it, and when that failed instead attempting to clean his room from top to bottom. He spent most of the day doing a number of odd jobs and rewatching old cartoons, and he ate supper and washed up at his usual time, but when it came time to go to bed, he still found himself lying awake, staring at the ceiling. With nothing else to distract him, the thought he had been attempting to suppress came to the forefront of his mind with a vengeance.

Onoda was supposed to leave his home and attend a boarding school somewhere far away.

He frowned, shifting uncomfortably under the covers. The house was silent and empty around him, so even the slightest motion sounded too loud to his ears. It served as a stark reminder that his mother was out of the house, still working despite the late hour.

This could be a good thing, right? Onoda could go and live at a fancy boarding school for a little while and his mother could focus on taking care of herself instead of supporting him all the time. Although she had never discussed it with him, and for all intents and purposes maintained the appearance of everything being fine and normal, Onoda was not blind to the tiny hints in their everyday life that revealed their true condition. He had seen and understood what was meant by the stacks of unpaid bills on the table, by his mother’s cheerful insistence that they darn their socks when they got holes in them instead of just buying new ones, and by the increasing number of days that she worked late into the night as Onoda lay awake in his room, too full of unspoken worry to even consider distracting himself with his comics.

Onoda was also insightful enough to realize that this school, though, this “Hogwarts” place could be the answer to this problem. With his school fees taken care of and his feeding and clothing no longer an issue, Onoda’s mother might finally have enough money to pay all the bills and debts that needed paying. Maybe she would also have time to do things for herself instead of having to divide her time solely between work, maintaining the house, and raising her young son. Maybe she would lose that pinched look around her eyes when she smiled, like she was putting a lot of effort into maintaining a cheerful facade for Onoda’s sake.

And it would only be for the next seven years.

Onoda rolled over, twisting the quilt tightly around his body as he squeezed his eyes shut. His mother would, admittedly, be better off without him. She had been telling the truth when she said she would miss him while he was away at boarding school year after year, he was sure of this, but she had survived many years without him before, and in their current situation he was sure he was more of a burden than he was a help.

But, perhaps rather selfishly, a big part of him didn’t want to go. He lived a quiet, unsocial life, but he was attached to his room, with his carefully organized collection of comics and movies, his posters, and his comfortable bed. He would certainly miss his mother. The idea of leaving this life to go live somewhere else, much less in close quarters with a bunch of strangers, was a terrifying one.

It’s okay, you’ll still get to come home during the summer. And who knows? Maybe the other kids will be nicer than all the classmates you’ve had before. They won’t know anything about you, so they might not even think you’re weird, providing you watch your step. Maybe some of them will even like you.

Maybe you’ll have friends.

Onoda buried his face deeper into his pillow. It would be really nice to have friends, he admitted in the privacy of his own mind.

But what if it was the same thing at this new school? What if he was still the awkward kid no one liked, only this time without a place to go to get away from them and do things he enjoyed?

And then, perhaps most importantly, there was this “school of magic” thing. It was kind of funny that his trepidation over leaving home seemed more important to him at the moment than this particular point. After all, he had learned some startling new information about the world today.

To explain the contents of the letter, there were only two possibilities: one, that magic was real and that he, Onoda, was one of a privileged few in a position to learn it, or two, that he was the intended victim of a bizarre and incredibly elaborate joke. Either possibility should have been of greater importance to him than the possibility that he would have to leave his home, but Onoda’s mind could be a strange place sometimes.

He found himself almost hoping it was some kind of joke. If it was a joke, after all, he wouldn’t have to leave.

While the possibility of a world in which magic was real was amazing, Onoda wasn’t sure if it would be really any better than the life he had now. At least he was used to this one. And really, even if it was a legitimate letter for a real, honest-to-god school of magic, they had undoubtedly made a mistake in sending a letter to Onoda, and would soon realize just how wrong they were and try to fix their error.

After all, there was and never would be anything special whatsoever about Sakamichi Onoda.

Chapter Text

While it wouldn’t necessarily be correct to say that Onoda forgot about the letter in the following weeks, the specific details at least had faded out of his consciousness to a point where could put his worry to the side and focus on other things for longer periods of time. It was, after all, just the beginning of summer vacation, and there were plenty of distractions available for a boy Onoda’s age. He had already made another stop at his usual comic store and bought the latest issues of his favourite comic series, and failed miserably to talk himself out of buying a season box set of one of his television shows. Thus armed, Onoda had returned home in triumph and proceeded to lock himself in his room with snacks and soda to enjoy his new merchandise.

(If he ever wondered what it would be like to do this with friends instead of alone, it was kept in the darkest corners of his mind where even Onoda himself couldn’t look at it too closely.)

It came as a surprise, then, when Onoda was startled out of a pleasant, TV-induced stupor on the morning of July 25 by the sound of the doorbell ringing. This much on its own was unusual-- the Onoda family rarely received visitors. The significance of the date, however, piqued something in his memory and in short order he was filled with an inexplicable sense of dread.

July 25.

He checked his alarm clock.

11:00 AM.

Hadn’t that weird letter said something about July 25 at 11:00 AM?

To assist in the purchasing of school supplies and to answer any questions you may have, a member of the Hogwarts staff will be arriving at your house at 11:00 AM sharp on July 25.

Onoda ran down the stairs, nearly colliding with his mother, who was already on her way to answer the door.

“Sakamichi, you know what I’ve said about running in the house,” she chided.

“Uh, don’t do it? Sorry,” he apologized distractedly, eyes darting towards the door. “Hey, mom... I was thinking and maybe we... shouldn’t answer the door? We could pretend we’re not here and wait until they go away.”

His mother looked almost affronted. “Sakamichi, what a horrible thing to say! This might be one of your future teachers, and anyways, it’s always important to be polite to guests.”

“Yes, but he might also be a con artist here to take our money, mom!” Onoda exclaimed, desperately wondering why his mother still didn’t seem to find anything suspicious about a letter inviting her son to go study magic at a school for wizards. “Did it ever occur to you that they could be lying about who they are?”

His mother, infuriatingly, only smiled at him. “ Oh dear, I think that con artists would rather choose much wealthier families than ours to scam.”

Wealthier, maybe. But perhaps because the Onoda family was so desperate, they posed an easier mark. Maybe the con artists had chosen them because they would be so happy to believe that a prestigious school was willing to sponsor Onoda that they would be quicker to suspend their disbelief.

But if they were hoping to fool Onoda and his mother, why would they make up such a ridiculous story?

During the seconds Onoda had wasted deliberating, his mother had taken the opportunity to step around Onoda and close the last few feet between herself and the entryway, and, before Onoda could interfere again, she had opened the door.

“Hello there, I’m Sachiko, Sakamichi Onoda’s mother. Welcome to our home!” she greeted the newcomer, her smile blinding.

Onoda’s mother was the sort of person who loved to entertain, Onoda knew. She liked to invite people over for tea and conversation, and she liked to have a close circle of friends to spend her time with. Onoda remembered a time, when he was still very small and they were still fairly well-off, when his mother had had the time and energy to maintain friendships and invite guests over to the house. She hadn’t done anything of the sort in years.

The guilt returned full-force, and Onoda no longer had the heart to attempt to delay the inevitable. At least, he though, if he was going to be meeting one of his “teachers”, maybe he could at least get some answers out of them.

At Onoda’s mother’s insistence, the visitor entered the house, glancing around at his surroundings curiously in a way that instantly put Onoda on edge.

He’s definitely scoping the place out!

The visitor was pretty normal looking for someone who supposedly taught at school for witches and wizards. He was fairly young and not particularly tall, with cropped brown hair and a thin, foxlike face. He was wearing a pair of loose jeans with rips in the knees and a t-shirt with a logo on it that was too faded to make out what the image had been originally, and Onoda privately thought he looked more like a slightly grubby student than a teacher.

“I assume this is Sakamichi, then,” the man said, his hands in his pockets. He had a pleasant voice with a bit of a drawl to it, and his overall impression was laid-back despite the shrewdness of his features. “Pleased to meet the both of you, Sachiko, Sakamichi. I’m Toji Kanzaki. I think the letter you got from Hogwarts should’ve mentioned I’d be coming.”

“We’re happy to have you here,” Onoda’s mother chirped enthusiastically, “and we’re so grateful to Hogwarts for offering Sakamichi a place in their program! Come sit in the living room, make yourself comfortable, and I’ll whip up some tea for the three of us.”

Following a flurry of activity, Onoda found himself awkwardly seated on the ugly green corduroy couch that occupied a whole half of their tiny living room, with Toji Kanzaki taking the armchair across from him. Onoda’s mother was absent, gone to make tea and to attempt to find snacks to go with it, leaving Onoda alone with this stranger and only a rickety coffee table between them.

Onoda tried not to fidget, or let it show how uncomfortable he was with this arrangement.

Despite the undeniable awkwardness of the situation, the man didn’t appear too bothered. He seemed to be stifling a smile as he looked over at Onoda, remarking eventually, “You’re very suspicious for an 11-year-old, aren’t you?”

Onoda stiffened in his seat. “S-sorry... I d-don’t mean to be rude....”

“...But you’re right to be suspicious, of course.”

Stunned by the open admission, Onoda stared at him. “What?”

“Of course, it’s only natural,” Kanzaki replied. “You’re from a family of muggles who have never had any contact with the magical world, and you’ve been raised to believe that magic doesn’t exist. For most people, it takes significantly more than one letter to shake that particular belief.”

Onoda’s interest must have shown on his face, because Kanzaki grinned and continued, “It’s for that exact reason that Hogwarts has made a policy of sending out staff to meet personally with muggle-born kids to tell them what to expect and, if necessary, provide further convincing that magic is actually real.”

“So... um... sorry if this is rude, but can you....”

“Can I what?”

“Can you... do magic?” Onoda asked, feeling stupid for asking.

“Of course,” Kanzaki answered, seemingly not offended at all. “Accio doily!” he said, and Onoda suddenly noticed that he was holding a tapered wooden stick in his right hand. He pointed the tip of the stick at the large doily in the middle of the coffee table, which immediately flew off towards him, landing neatly in his hand.

Onoda stared.

“Sorry, not particularly showy I know, but I figured if I showed you anything too wild it might actually scare you... hey, kid, you alright?” Kanzaki asked, looking a bit concerned.

Onoda, who had momentarily forgotten to breathe, forced himself to speak. “Was that... real magic?”

Kanzaki shrugged. “Well, it’s not fake,” he replied, tapping the stick (his wand?) thoughtfully against his knee. “But in terms of what magic is capable of it’s barely a parlour trick, really. It’s a simple summoning spell and I’m a pretty average wizard. Wait until you see some of the stuff your professors are capable of, now that would convince you.”

“Oh. But I thought... you were one of my teachers?”

“Well, I’m kind of a teacher and kind of not,” Kanzaki said. “I’m the Quidditch coach and I teach flying to the first years, among other things. So I will be instructing you this year, but I’m not actually one of your professors. I don’t have quite that level of ability, I’m afraid.”

All Onoda managed to take away from that statement was that apparently this man was a coach and was supposed to teach him to fly. Onoda looked at the doily in Kanzaki’s hand and wondered if this would involve something similar, with Kanzaki waving a wand and saying words that would send him hurtling off into the sky.

That was a strange mental image and Onoda was not entirely looking forward to whatever class Kanzaki would be teaching.

“So... at this school I’m supposed to learn how to do things like that?” Onoda asked, looking dubiously at Kanzaki’s wand. “You think I can... make things fly?”

“That and more,” Kanzaki affirmed. “All part and parcel with being a young wizard. Chances are you’ve already done little bits of magic already without being able to control it-- I’m sure you can recall a few times that might’ve happened.”

Onoda could.

The more Onoda reflected on Kanzaki’s words, the more everything began to make a horrible amount of sense. All of his bad experiences at school... al those “little accidents” that had gotten him in trouble with his teachers and alienated him from his classmates... those were all because of magic?

Like that time he had forgotten to study for a math test and the best student’s paper had inexplicably appeared on his desk, and Onoda had gotten in trouble for it?

Or the time that one kid had stolen Onoda’s lunch and been absent the next day because he was too violently ill to come to school?

Or that one incident at the pool when someone had pushed him into the water and he had panicked, not yet a good enough swimmer to stay afloat, and before the water had entirely closed over his head the pool had spat him back out, sending him skidding along the floor in front of the eyes of his dumbfounded classmates?

There were many other events, large and small throughout the years, but their compounded result was that, no matter where he went, Sakamichi Onoda was cursed, the outcast who weird things happened around and should be avoided at all costs.

“Hey hey, it’s okay,” Kanzaki said, obviously noticing how agitated Onoda was getting remembering these events and making a halfhearted attempt to calm him down again. “It’s like that for a lot of magical children, it just really sucks when you’re muggle-born and no one ever warns you about your magic acting up beforehand, or is able to explain to you that’s it’s totally natural when it does happen.”

“I don’t even know if I want to be a... wizard or anything,” Onoda said miserably. “I just want to be normal.”

“Well, I’m really sorry, but when you’re a witch or wizard, your magic will come out sooner or later even if you deny it and try to suppress it-- that’s just the way it is. You can never be a normal muggle, Sakamichi, that’s just not possible.”

Onoda bowed his head, eyes prickling. Sure, it wasn’t like he’d thought any differently, and he’d more or less accepted the fact that he would always be different, always be the weird one. It hurt, though, to hear it laid out so plainly from another’s mouth.

“But,” Kanzaki continued and Onoda looked up, startled. “If you go to Hogwarts, you’ll be able to meet many young witches and wizards just like yourself, who could never be normal muggles either. We’ll teach you to control your powers and by the end of it, you’ll be able to be just as normal a member of the magical community as any other young wizard. And if that doesn’t do it for you, if being normal isn’t as great as you always thought it would be,” he pointed his index finger at Onoda, “you can always become extraordinary instead.”

“...What?”

“Up until now, your magic has probably only been a burden on you,” Kanzaki said, leaning forward, eyes meeting Onoda’s intently. “At Hogwarts, your magic will make you exactly the same as everyone else. You can choose, then, if you want to accept that and become the most mundane, normal wizard who ever lived, or if you want to try to do greater things with your talents. Try being different in the right kind of way, and you may even enjoy it.”

Onoda had little idea of what to make of that. “And you think even someone like me could be different in a good way?”

“Sakamichi, Hogwarts is a school of magic. It exists to help young witches and wizards realize their potential. It’s probably the best place in the world for you to find that out for yourself.”

Having no way to reply to that, Onoda allowed the conversation to lapse into silence until his mother finally arrived, jubilantly presenting a tray of tea and biscuits from a box to their guest, who politely accepted, carefully not looking at Onoda. Respecting his privacy, maybe, as he thought over everything that had been said.

Although he didn’t want to openly acknowledge it, it was possible that already, in his heart of hearts, he had already accepted that everything Kanzaki had said about magic was true.

Maybe in time he’d believe the bit about himself having the potential to be extraordinary too.

***

“Come along, Sakamichi, try to keep up. We’ve still got a ways to go and I promised your mother I’d have you back before she leaves for work,” Kanzaki called back at Onoda from up ahead.

Despite his apparently calm and disaffected attitude, Onoda was starting to see a bit more of the coach Kanzaki had claimed to be in his behaviour. He had something of an unforgiving personality, it seemed, and ridiculously high expectations when it came to regular walking speed.

After Onoda’s mother had joined them in the living room and they had shared the first few sips of their tea in polite silence, Kanzaki had set aside his cup and begun explaining some of the things that he had probably been sent by the school to talk to them about. Unlike Onoda, his mother hadn’t required any further convincing regarding the existence of magic, although Kanzaki had been happy to demonstrate by making their teacups pirouette across the tabletop nonetheless, much to her delight. The information he provided was basic for the most part, general knowledge about what Onoda could and could not bring above and beyond what was specified on the list, reminding them that first-years were not allowed to own their own brooms (whatever that was supposed to mean), and also mentioning that correspondence via internet or phone service providers would be impossible while Onoda was at school, so they would have to restrict communication to owl post.

At least Onoda now knew what the letter meant when it told him to send an owl, even if the idea that wizards and witches used owls to carry their letters was incredibly strange to him.

Other than that, the information Kanzaki had supplied had been surprisingly sparse, Onoda thought. It was odd that Kanzaki, who had been fairly open and straightforward when speaking to Onoda alone seemed as if he was carefully reading a script when addressing his mother. He wondered if it had anything to do with the fact that his mother was non-magical-- a “muggle”, as Kanzaki would say. Everything that he had said to Onoda’s mother was related to how Onoda should best prepare himself to attend Hogwarts and how his being there might affect her life and her ability to communicate with her son. About the mechanics of the magical world (or really magic in general), he was silent.

Once he had completed his meeting with Onoda’s mother, Kanzaki had announced that it was time for him to accompany Onoda to pick up his school supplies, which had immediately reignited Onoda’s temporarily-dormant unease. Even though he was mildly more trusting of Kanzaki and the idea of magic than he had been before, Onoda didn’t think he was quite ready to travel with him, alone, to a strange part of London he had never been to before for the purpose of buying a large amount of very suspect sounding items.

His mother, however, appeared to have no such compunctions, which is why Onoda now found himself practically jogging after Kanzaki, ostensibly on their way to purchase everything Onoda would need for his new magical career. They had taken a cab (evidently, Kanzaki didn’t own a car) part of the way, and they were now traveling on foot. Onoda had no idea where they were, or where they could possibly be going to find everything they would need on the list.

When voiced his concerns to Kanzaki, the man had just grinned at him. “Don’t worry, there’s only one place in London to go to get all of this stuff. We’re heading to the Leaky Cauldron.”

“The what?”

“The Leaky Cauldron. It’s a pub-- you go through it to get into Diagon Alley, which is where we’ll be buying all the things you’ll need for school.”

Onoda frowned, confused. “You have to go through a pub to get there?”

Kanzaki nodded, hands in their customary position in his pockets as he walked, the very image of casual yet he was still somehow managing to be faster than Onoda. “That’s how it stays hidden, you know. We can’t just have muggles walking into Diagon Alley--it’d be a disaster.”

“So... muggles... aren’t supposed to know about magic? At all?”

“As a general rule, no,” Kanzaki said thoughtfully. “There are exceptions, of course, such as in your case. Your family are muggles so it’s impossible to keep the truth entirely hidden from the people closest to you and still obtain permission for you to attend Hogwarts, so we end up having to give away a little bit. We try to limit the amount of useful information we actually tell them, though.”

That at least explained why Kanzaki was so careful to avoid saying too much to Onoda’s mother then.

“It all goes back a long way, “ Kanzaki continued, turning the next corner and leading them down yet another unfamiliar street. “You’ve probably heard of a witch hunt before, haven’t you? In... I don’t know, in whatever classes you took in muggle school?”

Onoda nodded.

“Well, let me just start off by saying that historically European witch hunts didn’t have much of an effect on the magical community-- we’ve always been good at protecting ourselves with our magic. But one thing events like the witch hunts did is provide us with a very clear picture of how muggles tend to react when confronted with things that are different-- and more powerful-- than them. A lot of innocent muggles were killed during that time simply because a bunch of frightened people though that they might be magic users.”

Onoda recalled the manner in which he had been treated by his classmates after they had noticed that strange things happened around him--after they’d realized he was different. He could certainly see muggles reacting with fear and hostility to a community of powerful witches and wizards living alongside them.

“It’s because of reasons like these that the Ministry of Magic created the Statute of Secrecy, which keeps the magical world separate and secret from the muggle world,” Kanzaki said. “In the past muggles couldn’t do much to us, but these days it really pays to be careful. They have weapons much more powerful than just axes and arrows now, so we try to limit their knowledge of magical things wherever possible, for our own protection.”

“I guess that makes sense,” Onoda said hesitantly, a bit floored himself by the revelation that there was apparently a Ministry of Magic and a hidden community of wizards living in London. He could only imagine the effect that revelation would have on the world at large.

Kanzaki chuckled and clapped Onoda’s shoulder, making him jump. “I’m not going to lie, the learning curve for the magical world is a bit steep when you haven’t been raised in it, but you won’t be the first muggle born to attend Hogwarts and you definitely won’t be the last. I’m sure you’ll figure it all out in short order.”

Onoda hoped that he was right, because it was beginning to look like he was still going to be at a disadvantage compared to his classmates when he attended Hogwarts despite what Kanzaki had said earlier. It was only beginning to occur to him just how much basic knowledge about the magical world he was lacking, knowledge that other wizards and witches would have been exposed to for their entire lives. What if his classmates, rather than thinking he was weird, just thought he was stupid?

The conversation lapsed as Onoda allowed himself to fret over that potential scenario.

Thankfully, it didn’t take much longer for them to reach their destination, which provided a distraction that Onoda gladly latched onto. After hearing stories about the depth and complexity of the magical world and seeing real magic performed by a wizard, however, Onoda’s first sight of the Leaky Cauldron was less than inspiring. The Leaky Cauldron was, as promised, a pub. From the street it didn’t look like much, just a dingy little building squashed between a record store and a bookshop. The people who passed them on the street didn’t even seem to notice it was there. Onoda glanced suspiciously at Kanzaki, but he didn’t seem to notice as the pushed the door open and beckoned for Onoda to follow him inside.

Upon entering the building behind Kanzaki, Onoda found that it was busy inside, although every bit as dingy as one would expect based on its exterior. There were a number of very old looking wooden tables and chairs arranged haphazardly around the room and a surprising number of them were filled for it being early afternoon. No one really glanced their way as Kanzaki and Onoda crossed the floor to a door in the back, which Onoda was thankful for. Some of the pub’s patrons looked a little too scary for his comfort. Most of them were wearing strange, old-fashined clothes, some had faces that looked unsavoury in the way that villains in Onoda’s comics were often depicted, and Onoda could have sworn he saw a row of pointed teeth on one man when he threw his head back to laugh.

“Nervous?” Kanzaki asked, teeth flashing white briefly in the darkness. “Don’t worry, these are all good people,” he glanced around once, then grimaced. “Well, most of them anyways. Come along, we’re not stopping here.”

Feeling immensely thankful for that, Onoda followed.

Kanzaki led Onoda out the back of the pub and into what appeared to be a smallish courtyard space. When they reached the back wall, they stopped and Kanzaki withdrew his wand from his pocket.

“Okay, Sakamichi. You’ll be wanting to know this, because I’m not always going to be here and in the future you’re going to have to get here on your own,” Kanzaki said. “This is the entrance to Diagon Alley. To open it, take your wand and tap these bricks-- in a counterclockwise motion, mind you. The door will open on it’s own after that. Easy as anything”

Onoda did his best to memorize which bricks Kanzaki tapped, but he couldn’t say for sure whether he was successful or not. Once Kanzaki had touched the correct bricks, they began to rearrange themselves, forming an archway where there once had been only a blank wall.

It was only the third time Onoda had ever seen someone deliberately make real magic happen, and Onoda wondered if the shock and awe he felt when seeing it would ever decrease.

“Okay, so we have a lot to get today and not a lot of time to do it in, unfortunately,” Kanzaki said, stepping through the opening. As soon as he had passed through, the bricks began to slot themselves back into place, forcing Onoda to dart quickly through before the doorway could close completely. “I was thinking we should start with Gringotts so I can withdraw enough from Hogwarts’ account to cover your supplies. We can get your pocket money for the year converted from muggle currency to wizarding money while we’re at it too, just in case there’s anything else....”

Onoda had barely registered anything that Kanzaki had been saying, as he was too caught up in his first view of Diagon Alley to take notice of much else.

Although the street was extremely narrow, it was teeming with people, so much so that it was difficult to move without being jostled from one side or another. Like the individuals Onoda had seen in the pub, many of the people here were dressed strangely, either in what appeared to be robes or incredibly mismatched outfits cobbled together from muggle clothes. They were all looking in store windows, admiring streetside displays, or chatting with one another, carrying a vast assortment of strange-looking items that had presumably been purchased from one of the many cramped little shops that lined either side of the street. Onoda squinted to make out some of the signs, reading advertisements for places like “Whizz Hard Books” and “Madame Primpernelle’s Beautifying Potions”. In addition to shops, there also appeared to be a variety of restaurants in the area, and the resulting combination of sights, smells, and sounds was entirely unlike anything Onoda had ever experienced before. For someone who spent so much time at home, in familiar surroundings, it was an overwhelming experience.

There was a whole community of magical people living in London. They had probably been there for hundreds and hundreds of years, going about their lives relatively unbothered by the activities of muggles, and had a developed society with their own laws and government.

And the nonmagical world had absolutely no idea.

Onoda turned back to Kanzaki, his mouth already open to apologize for not having heard what he was saying before, but the space in front of him where the man should have been was now occupied by a harried-looking woman carrying an owl in a cage, followed closely by two young girls hanging onto the hem of her robe.

Onoda felt a icy sensation in his spine as he craned his neck around the people in front of him, trying to see if he could spot Kanzaki in the crowd behind them.

Maybe he just got a bit ahead of me? I only took my eyes off him for a second, he’s got to still be close....

Onoda ducked forward through the crowd, accidentally shoving some men who made vague sounds of annoyance in response. Normally Onoda would stop and apologize, but in this situation, he didn’t have the presence of mind to do so.

Kanzaki was nowhere to be seen, and Onoda was left alone in this strange place.

Chapter Text

Onoda’s mind was blank with panic as he desperately attempted to navigate his way through the throngs of people ahead, any one of whom could potentially be standing between him and the only person who wasn’t a complete stranger to him in this place. Every time he thought he saw a gap in the crowd or caught a glimpse of what could have been the back of Kanzaki’s t-shirt, however, it was quickly swallowed up by more shoppers. He was getting bumped and jostled on all sides, and he could swear he heard vague noises of annoyance from some of the people he hit. Probably he was getting in the way of a lot of people, and even in the midst of his own problems he felt kind of bad about that.

But he needed to find Kanzaki. Onoda knew very little about the magical world, but he knew enough to realize that he was clueless as to where he should go next and that his own money wouldn’t work here. The sights and sounds of Diagon Alley, which minutes ago had seemed wondrous and exciting, were now far too loud and unfamiliar and overwhelming for Onoda to handle. Everywhere he turned there was laughter, haggling, shouting, the whizz of tiny magical devices that hovered and spun in shop windows, the screeching of owls....

It was just too much.

Onoda covered his head with his arms, scrunching his eyes shut and wishing miserably that he was back at home in his room and had never seen magic or heard of wizards or even gotten that stupid letter in the first place.

He was interrupted by someone knocking roughly into him from behind. He lost his balance and fell forward, landing painfully on his knees.

“Hey! What the hell--why don’t you watch where you’re going, asshole?”

Onoda, had he been a bolder individual and possessed a greater presence of mind at the time, might have argued that he hadn’t moved at all, and that it was the speaker’s own fault for running into him. Then again, Onoda had been standing still in the middle of a busy public area with his face buried in his arms, so some of the blame probably rested on him, not that he was thinking about any of that at the moment. The combination of losing Kanzaki and being left alone here and his subsequent panic now combined with yelling and actual physical pain from falling over had done it’s work, and to his utter humiliation he felt tears begin to form in his eyes.

As if this entire situation hadn’t been bad enough already, he just had to cry about it too. In front of an entire street.

“Oi, are you okay, Glasses? What’s wrong?” the person who had run into him still hadn’t left yet apparently, and worse, sounded close by, like he had crouched down to be on the same level as Onoda. Onoda wished he could have waited until this person was gone before having a complete breakdown, but as was already established, Onoda had no sort of luck.

“Aw, shit,” the stranger continued, still not leaving for some reason, “you don’t look so good. Where’re your parents, huh?”

Onoda, incapable of answering even if he had wanted to, wanted to curl up and disappear. He settled for bringing his knees up to his chest and mashing his face into them, silently willing the meddlesome stranger to lose interest and leave him alone.

“Shit,” the stranger said again, and the next thing Onoda knew, he was being hauled up off the ground, apparently with some difficulty judging by the grunts and muttered curses. An arm wrapped vice-like around his shoulders, and he found himself being forcibly led away from his position in the middle of the street. He blinked his eyes furiously, attempting to clear his vision so he could see where he was going and who he was with, but his glasses were spattered with tears and everything was one huge blur.

It occurred to him to struggle, but by the time he had thought of it the stranger’s grip had already loosened and he was being lowered into a seated position with far more care than he had been removed from his previous one. It was on the ground, once again, but it was slightly quieter here, and Onoda felt cool stone at his back, like a wall or the side of a building. He pulled off his glasses and shakily scrubbed them off with the bottom of his shirt before setting them back on his nose.

He was promptly confronted with the face of his (saviour? assailant?) entirely in too close proximity to his own, causing him to jerk backwards reflexively, which in turn resulted in him smacking his head against the wall.

Definitely not his day.

“Hey, watch it! Geeze, you’re just one disaster after another, aren’t you?” the stranger observed, chin balanced in the palm of his hand as Onoda rubbed his head.

Glancing around warily, Onoda realized that he hadn’t been taken far, recognizing his location as being the side of the potion store he had noticed earlier. There was apparently a gap between that building and the next that formed a sort of reasonably-sized alleyway. The thought that he’d been dragged off a public street and into such a secluded place was alarming at first, but it didn’t take long for him to realize that, to his utmost relief, they weren’t particularly far into the alley, and if Onoda screamed he could probably be heard easily. Onoda also realized that this was likely one of the few places on the street he could actually go to have a few minutes to gather his bearings, so he was thankful for that much, at least.

“Here, eat this. You’ll feel better.”

Something wrapped in plastic was shoved into Onoda’s field of vision. It was a package with the caption “Licorice Wands” printed on it, which suggested it was some kind of wizard candy, but the contents looked pretty much like normal licorice to him. He took the candy nonetheless, if only to placate his unasked-for companion.

Looking upward, Onoda got his first real look the stranger, and was surprised to find that the person crouched down in front of him and watching him curiously was a boy about his own age. He was also one of the most normal-looking people Onoda had seen in the wizarding world so far, if this judgement were to be made based entirely on the fact that his shorts, t-shirt, and trainers actually looked like something a muggle child on the street might wear. On the other hand, the full “normal” effect was lessened somewhat by the boy himself, who possessed a head of thick, bright red hair and had matching ruddy-coloured eyes that seemed unusually large and intense for a child his age.

“Go on, Glasses-- I didn’t do anything to it,” the boy said, a note of complaint in his voice. “I was planning on eating that myself, you know.”

Onoda tore his gaze away from the boy and looked down at the package of candy somewhat doubtfully. True, it didn’t appear to be tampered with-- then again, who knew what magic users were capable of? The packaging being intact could certainly not be considered a reliable indication that the candy was safe.

Judging by the narrowed eyes and stubborn look on his observer’s face, however, it seemed as though he wouldn’t be allowed to move until he caved and ate the candy. He still thought this was a bad idea. Unfortunately, however, Onoda had never before considered himself a particularly strong-willed person, and he wasn’t about to now.

Sighing in defeat, he tore open the top of the package and withdrew a piece of the candy (likely an aforementioned “licorice wand”), and stared at it for a few seconds before taking a tentative bite out of the end. It tasted vaguely like some kind of fruit and was, as he had previously suspected, in many ways indistinguishable from regular licorice. This theory was soon given further support, as several bites later still nothing strange nor potentially fatal had occurred. It was a bit underwhelming, to be honest, but Onoda supposed that outcome was preferable to it being dangerous.

Nonetheless, he was surprised to find that the boy had been correct: he did actually feel a bit better having eaten some of the candy. It might have been because the taste of the candy was the first thing that was even vaguely familiar to him in this place, or maybe it was just because it had apparently been given as a friendly gesture without hidden motives. It could have also just as easily been just because the process temporarily distracted him from thinking his other problems.

For whatever the reason, Onoda felt slightly calmer and more in control of his own emotions when he raised his head and offered a shaky “Thanks,” to the redheaded boy.

The grin that spread across the boy’s face at that was vaguely alarming, appearing too big for his comparatively dainty features and exposing unusually sharp canines. “Haha, no worries, Glasses!” he said cheerfully, clapping a hand on Onoda’s shoulder in a gesture that would be friendly if it weren’t bordering on painful. “It wouldn’t be cool to just leave a scrawny little thing like you crying in the middle of the street. You can just pay me back with more candy some other time if you want.”

“O-oh. Okay?” Onoda replied, taken off guard by the boy’s casual assumption that they would see each other again after this meeting. In all honesty, he couldn’t even understand why he would want to meet Onoda again.

“So,” the redheaded boy said, “what’s your name?”

“Umm... it’s O-onoda. Sakamichi Onoda.”

The boy beamed at him. “Nice to meet you Oonoda. I’m Shoukichi Naruko!”

He got my name wrong!

“You know, you look pretty young,” the boy-- Naruko, continued. “And you also seem really nervous around magic and sort of like a shut-in honestly, so what are you doing alone in Diagon Alley? Are you muggle-born?”

Onoda winced at the surprisingly accurate-- although blunt-- assessment. “Yeah, I guess I am... muggle-born? And I didn’t come here alone. I was supposed to buy all the things I needed for school so I came here with a Hogwarts teacher, but then we were separated and--”

“Whaaaat? No way, you’re my age?” Naruko exclaimed, disbelief painting his features. “I had no idea you were actually old enough to be going to Hogwarts-- you remind me more of my kid brother than anything else. I thought you were maybe eight or something.”

Onoda didn’t know how he was supposed to feel about that.

“Anyway,” Naruko continued, “how old are you? Are you a first year? Any idea what house you’re going to be in yet?”

Confused and feeling slightly out of his depth, Onoda attempted to answer his questions, starting with the ones he actually understood. “Well... I’m eleven. I’ll be a first year I guess--”

“Haha, awesome,” Naruko enthused. “I’m a first year too. Maybe we’ll even be in the same house! That’d be the best. We could talk during all our classes and break curfew and maybe even play together on the same Quidditch team!”

There was that word again, “quidditch”. Onoda remembered Kanzaki having mentioned it once in passing, but he still had no idea what it was. Presumably Naruko knew, but Onoda already had a list of questions he wanted to ask and Naruko seemed ridiculously prone to straying off topic, making him an unideal source of information to say the least. Onoda decided to attempt it anyways.

“Sorry, but I was wondering if you could tell me what you mean by which house I’ll be in?” Onoda asked tentatively.

“You mean they haven’t told you yet?” Naruko asked, surprised. “I guess they figured they’d just get around to it later, I don’t really know how it works for muggle-borns. Well,” he said, looking more pleased than anything at the excuse to talk more, “Hogwarts was originally founded by four witches and wizards, Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff, and Slytherin. They all worked together to create the school, but it turns out they all had a different idea of the kinds of kids they wanted to teach. Gryffindor wanted students who were brave and chivalrous, Ravenclaw wanted clever students, Hufflepuff wanted students who understood hard work and friendship, and Slytherin wanted students who were cunning and ambitious.”

Onoda suspected that this story was another one of those things Kanzaki had mentioned that children in the wizarding world would have grown up hearing about, but that he would have to pick up on in time. It was beginning to look like learning all of these things would be a staggering task.

“So, since no one would agree or compromise on what they wanted, the founders decided that they’d divide all their students between the four of them. The idea kind of stuck. So today, when students go to Hogwarts they get sorted into one of the four houses based on their personality and how well they match up to the traits the founders thought were the most important,” Naruko said, gesticulating authoritatively. “So you go to Gryffindor if you’re brave, Ravenclaw if you’re smart, Hufflepuff if you’re... I don’t know... nice I guess, and Slytherin if you’re willing to throw someone under a stampeding hippogriff to get ahead in life.”

Onoda thought that last one sounded a little out of place. “So Slytherin is... not a good place to end up?”

“Well...” Naruko said, pursing his lips distastefully. “I guess there have been a few good Slytherins before, so maybe not all of them are evil neccessarily, but I’ve always heard it encourages bad people to be more bad. Also Slytherins are always out to get the Gryffindors and they do it in really cowardly ways too, so I don’t trust them at all.”

Onoda swallowed. Hogwarts was sounding less fun and more frightening by the minute. “So... which house do you want to be in?”

Naruko’s mood took a swift turn, and the blinding smile was back. “I’m going to be in Gryffindor!” he shouted excitedly, hopping to his feet. “Gryffindor is the best house by far. Loads of really great wizards have been in that house-- loads of great wizards who weren’t evil-- and it’s the house you get put in if you’re really gutsy and courageous and believe in doing the right thing. Also the Gryffindor Quidditch team has the best win record of any of the houses and they get to wear red so they’re definitely the flashiest and the coolest team there is! I’m going to be in Gryffindor for sure. I have to be.”

Onoda had to admit, that sounded really impressive, and it seemed to fit Naruko perfectly, based on what little he knew of the other boy. He briefly thought of what it would be like to be sorted into such an amazing house alongside someone like Naruko, someone who was bold and driven and seemed to know exactly what he wanted and exactly how to get it at all times, but was also surprisingly, effortlessly kind, probably without even realizing it. He thought about what it might be like to be a Gryffindor with Naruko, and be able to do things together, like attend the same classes and meet up during breaks to chat or read comics. Maybe if Onoda was sorted into Gryffindor, he and Naruko could even be friends. Naruko, for all his pushy personality, was someone Onoda thought he would really enjoy being friends with.

But that’s all just wishful thinking, he thought, snapping back to the present. There was no way it would ever happen. Onoda would never be sorted into Gryffindor because he wasn’t brave or chivalrous at all, and when Naruko found that out, there was no way he’d want to be friends with someone as cowardly and pathetic as Onoda.

He really shouldn’t be setting himself up for disappointment this early on.

“S-so,” Onoda said, suddenly deciding that he really wanted to draw the subject away from which house he might or might not be placed in, “what exactly is Quidditch? You mentioned Quidditch teams earlier and I--”

If Naruko had been surprised that Onoda hadn’t known about Hogwarts houses yet, he was horrified by this revelation. “You don’t even know... what Quidditch is?”

“Um... no?”

“Seekers? Chasers? Quaffle, Bludger?” Naruko asked, eyes wide with disbelief. “Do any of those sound familiar?”

“No, sorry.”

“I suppose it would be pointless to ask if you’ve ever flown before, then,” Naruko said, a look of utmost pain on his face.

Onoda felt the need to explain. “Well, you see, my mom and I have never had enough money to travel anywhere for vacation, so--”

Naruko waved his arms vehemently. “No no no I wasn’t talking about muggle airplanes. I was asking about flying, as in flying on a broom?”

Onoda was baffled. “On... a broom. Wizards and witches fly. On... brooms.”

“Yes?” Naruko said, obviously waiting for Onoda to explain why he seemed to find this strange.

“It’s just... muggles think that witches fly around on brooms. Out of everything, I hadn’t thought that that would be the one thing I learned about witches in the muggle world that would be true,” Onoda said. “It just seems kind of... silly, I guess.”

“Well, that’s muggles,” Naruko shrugged. “I guess they’ve got to be right about something sooner or later. And it’s not silly, it’s amazing. You probably just don’t understand yet because you’ve never seen a Quidditch match before. Or flown yourself.”

“Maybe...?”

“Well, we can’t do anything about that now, I guess, but we can do the next best thing!” he announced cheerily, extending a hand to Onoda. “Come with me--I want to show you something.”

It didn’t appear he was to be given a choice in this matter, which seemed to be a running trend. He couldn’t say he necessarily minded, though. This was the closest Onoda had come to hanging out with a someone his own age in as long as he could remember, and Naruko was interesting to talk to. Or be talked to by. It was certainly better than wandering alone through Diagon Alley looking for Kanzaki.

“Okay,” Onoda agreed, taking the proffered hand and pulling himself to his feet. He barely had time to dust off his jeans before Naruko had transferred his grip to Onoda’s wrist.

“All right, just follow me,” Naruko said brightly, pulling Onoda along. “I’ve been here a million times, so I know which way we’re going. Just make sure you hang onto me so you don’t get lost.”

It was then that he realized something surprising.

Onoda had always been small for his age. When he had learned that he and Naruko were the same age, Onoda had made the default assumption that Naruko would be taller than him. Standing next to him for the first time, however, he realized that Naruko had a surprisingly petite build, and was likely as short or even shorter than Onoda himself. It wasn’t often that he found himself standing on the same level as someone his own age, so the experience was slightly disorienting. He was aware of the boy’s strong grip on his wrist as he tugged him back out onto the street, though, and realized that he was probably surprisingly wiry despite his slight appearance.

Still, Onoda thought it was kind of incredible that someone so small could have a presence so big.

It was actually reassuring to be in the company of someone like Naruko, Onoda thought, and he found himself actually looking forward to the prospect of seeing more of Diagon Alley whereas before he might have been too busy dreading going back out in public.

“So you’re from a magical family, right?” Onoda asked, feeling bold enough to attempt to initiate a conversation as they walked.

“Half magical,” Naruko replied. “My mom’s a witch and my dad’s a muggle, so I’ve gotten a taste of being both. Kids in the wizarding world aren’t allowed to do magic until they’re eleven and in school, though, so I’ve mostly had to act like a muggle growing up. I’m so bored of it--I can’t wait to be able to do magic and play Quidditch.”

Onoda wondered what it might have been like to grow up with one magical parent and one muggle. Would it have been exciting, and like being a part of both worlds or would it have been lonely, and felt like not truly belonging to either?

“This year’s going to be terrible, though,” Naruko continued, unaware Onoda’s attention had been elsewhere. “First years aren’t allowed on the Quidditch team and we’re not even allowed to have our own brooms while we’re at school! Can you believe it?”

Honestly, at this point Onoda was pretty sure he could believe anything.

“I mean, I get that they feel like there has to be an age limit because Quidditch can be kind of dangerous sometimes, but having the minimum age being twelve seems kind of random, doesn’t it? I mean, I’ve already probably flown more than a lot of second years who are going to be trying out. It would make more sense if it was based on aptitude or something, don’t you think so Oonoda?”

“It’s ‘Onoda,’ actually,” Onoda responded without thinking, and was momentarily shocked at his own boldness.

Naruko just laughed, appearing far from offended at having been corrected. “Okay, Onoda then?”

“Y-yeah. Although... you could also call me Sakamichi. If, you know, if you wanted,” Onoda said, feeling horribly awkward. “You don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

“Well, you can call me Shoukichi, then,” Naruko beamed.

They continued walking for a few more minutes before Naruko brought them to a halt, announcing, “And... here we are! This is what I wanted to show you.”

The shop Naruko had brought them to was superficially like many in Diagon Alley, but Onoda knew that there had to be a reason why Naruko wanted to show him this shop in particular. This reason became plainly obvious when Onoda looked into the shop’s large display window.

The sign above the door read “Quality Quidditch Supplies,” and Onoda could see a variety of brooms on display inside, in addition to brightly coloured robes and balls of different sizes. He had already guessed that Quidditch was a kind of sport for witches and wizards, but seeing the equipment involved spurred him to try to piece together what he knew so far into a more complete explanation.

“So... Quidditch is a sport played on brooms?” Onoda asked.

Naruko nodded enthusiastically. “Yep, it’s the most popular magical sport in Europe, and one of the most popular in the world! There are seven people on a team: three Chasers, two Beaters, one Keeper, and one Seeker. Chasers use a ball called the Quaffle--” he indicated a large red ball in the window-- “and they compete against Chasers from the other team to gain possession of the ball and throw it through one of their opponent’s goalposts. It’s ten points for every goal they get. Each team also has two Beaters whose job is to defend their own team’s Chasers and slow down or put a stop to the other team’s Chasers. The balls Beaters use are called Bludgers, and there are two of them in the game. The Bludgers fly around on their own so the Beaters use bats to try to hit them at the other team’s Chasers.”

Naruko pointed at what appeared to be a large metal cage further in the store, and Onoda saw a number of very heavy-looking metallic balls banging around inside, occasionally bouncing off one another with a crack that was audible from where they were standing outside the shop.

Onoda was beginning to suspect that Quidditch was actually an incredibly dangerous game at all times, not just “sometimes,” and was also beginning to understand why first years were apparently not allowed to play.

“The Keeper’s job is to defend the goalposts and keep the opposing Chasers from throwing the ball through one of the three rings at the top of the posts, so that’s simple enough. The last position is a bit different,” Naruko said. “Each team also has a Seeker, whose job it is to catch the Snitch. It’s a tiny gold ball with wings-- I don’t think they have one out right now. It’s fast and almost impossible to see, but catching it is what ends the game. The Seeker who catches it also wins an additional 150 points for their team on top of what the Chasers have already scored, so the team whose seeker catches the Snitch will almost always win.”

“What do you play as?”

“What was that?” Naruko asked.

“In Quidditch. What’s your position when you play?” Onoda asked.

“Well...” Naruko said, looking sheepish for the first time since Onoda had met him, “the thing is, you kind of need a lot of stuff before you can have a Quidditch match, like balls and goalposts and stuff, and after that you need people to actually play with, and then they all need to have brooms, so....”

He trailed off, and flushed scarlet when he realized that Onoda was still watching. “I’ve never actually played a game before, okay?” he admitted, scowling. “I’ve flown a lot and I’ve tried to practice without all the balls you actually need, but it doesn’t work that well and... I don’t know what I’d be yet. Probably a Seeker, though, if I had to choose. It’s the position you want if you’re a really fast flyer, and it’s also the flashiest. Seekers almost always score the most points out of anyone on their team too. I think it’d be fun to be a Seeker.”

Onoda found himself nodding. He could see Naruko in that position.

“What about you?”

“Huh?” Onoda asked.

“Well, you asked me what position I’d like to play,” Naruko said. “I was just wondering which one you’d be?”

“B-but I...” I’m not good at sports, his mind filled in for him. The idea that Onoda could be on any kind of team was hilarious enough on its own, but for a sport that was this dangerous and involved flying and magic and presumably people trying to knock each other out of the sky it was unthinkable. Onoda couldn’t fantasize it, even for fun--it was just too far out of his character to consider.

But Naruko was looking at him expectantly, and this was the first time someone had ever hung out with Onoda for so long, and Quidditch obviously meant a lot to Naruko. If Onoda let on that he’d never play because he was terrible at sports and was afraid because it sounded dangerous, Naruko would know he was a coward and that they had nothing in common at all and no reason to be friends because of it.

“Well, I...” Onoda said, preparing himself to come up with a believable lie. “I guess--”

“Sakamichi!”

He was interrupted by a familiar voice behind him, and Onoda was relieved to see Toji Kanzaki breaking away from the crowd to approach them. Onoda was relieved, of course, but maybe a bit saddened as well. It had been kind of nice spending time with Naruko, and now it was over.

“Mr. Kanzaki,” Onoda said, suddenly worried he was going to get in trouble for not following closely enough. If he had just kept his eyes on Kanzaki instead of allowing himself to be distracted in the first place, none of this would have happened. “I’m really sorry for not being able to keep up with you earlier. I promise, I never meant to cause trouble and I’ll try to do better from now on.”

Kanzaki, rather than being angry, raised a hand in a placating gesture. “You don’t have to apologize or explain anything to me, Sakamichi. It was my fault for forgetting that you’re a muggle-born and that anyone’s first trip into Diagon Alley is sure to be overwhelming. I’m the adult and I didn’t do a good enough job looking out for you, that’s all there is to the matter. I hope you’ll be able to forgive me?”

Onoda was flabbergasted. An adult, apologizing to him?

He realized Kanzaki was still waiting for an answer, and rushed to reply. “Y-yes, it’s fine! Don’t worry, I don’t really mind.”

“Well,” Kanzaki sighed, looking at Onoda a little bit doubtfully, like he knew Onoda was lying about having been fine. “I’ll apologize anyway. You’re alright though--not hurt or anything?”

Onoda nodded. “Yes, thank-you Mr. Kanzaki.”

“Kanzaki? Hey, you wouldn’t be the Kanzaki, the Quidditch star who stayed to coach at Hogwarts?”

Onoda turned to see Naruko, whom he had momentarily forgotten about, looking at Kanzaki with newfound interest. “Hey, Sakamichi,” he said, “you never told me your staff-appointed guide was Toji Kanzaki!”

Kanzaki looked at Naruko, frowning slightly. “You... you’re a Naruko. Am I right?”

“I am!” Naruko said, obviously pleased with being recognized. “Shoukichi Naruko! I was just telling Onoda about Quidditch, although I’m surprised he didn’t just ask you about it, seeing as you’re probably an expert. Hey, do you know why first years aren’t allowed to play Quidditch?”

“It’s so that the first years who haven’t ever ridden a broom before don’t feel pressured to try out before they’ve mastered the basics. It’s an old rule but one that I suspect has probably saved Hogwarts a lot of lives and lawsuits,” Kanzaki answered in a deadpan voice.

“Huh, I guess that makes sense,” Naruko said, deflated. “But that doesn’t mean I have to like it! God dammit this sucks.”

“Sorry, kid,” Kanzaki shrugged, “you’ll just have to sit and be patient like every single other first year who’s ever been through Hogwarts has had to do.”

“You don’t have to tell me that,” Naruko complained. “Whatever. Sakamichi, you’ll probably have to be on your way if Mr. Kanzaki brought you here to get stuff for school. I’d probably better get going too. I was in the middle of a robe fitting before I ran off so my mom’s probably pretty ticked now.”

Onoda swallowed, nervous on Naruko’s behalf. Onoda privately thought it must be exhausting, to go through life as Naruko. “All right. I’ll see you some other time, I guess?”

“You bet,” Naruko said brightly, drawing Onoda into a tight one-armed embrace. “Come find me at Hogwarts if you ever want to pay me back for the candy,” he laughed.

Onoda, with a pang of sadness, realized that this was likely the end of what was essentially his first day of hanging out with a friend. He was going to miss Naruko. Even if they were in the same school, it wouldn’t be the same. Onoda knew it was stupid, but when Naruko turned back briefly to wave goodbye, he couldn’t help but feel as if they were saying goodbye forever.

He was pulled away from his thoughts when Kanzaki spoke up unexpectedly.

“Hey... Sakamichi,” Kanzaki said as they watched Naruko make his way through the crowd, eventually becoming a tiny dot of red before disappearing entirely. “That Naruko boy... what exactly was he like? Did he seem at all strange to you?”

“What?” Onoda asked, confused by the question. “Well, yes, I guess he was strange. But no stranger to me than someone like... you and other wizards, I guess. He seems to really love Quidditch, he’s brave and kind of loud... but he’s really nice, too. He gave me licorice wands,” he added, as if that made any sort of difference.

Kanzaki smiled slightly. “I see.”

“I don’t understand,” Onoda replied, aware he was pushing but strangely unwilling to allow Kanzaki to believe anything bad of Naruko. “Is there something wrong? Because Naruko helped me a lot and--”

“No, no, it’s nothing like that,” Kanzaki said, chuckling, and Onoda felt the mood lift a bit. “I was just curious, and it’s kind of a coincidence that you’d run into a member of that family on your first day here, much less immediately after I finished telling you about the Statute of Secrecy. Naruko didn’t happen to mention anything to you about his parents, did he?”

Onoda frowned. “Not much. Only that his mother’s a witch and his father’s a muggle.”

“His mother happens to be a very well-known witch these days, in fact,” Kanzaki said. “That’s how I knew who he was-- I swear, he looks just like her. Anyway, I mentioned that the Statute of Secrecy is the legislation that keeps the wizarding world separate from the muggle world, and prevents muggles from knowing that magic exists?”

Onoda nodded.

“Naruko’s mother is the one who’s spearheading the campaign against the Statute of Secrecy-- she believes it’s time to do away with the law entirely, and announce the existence of magic to the world at large.”

Onoda had only recently been introduced to the magical world, but even he could appreciate just what a huge move that was. “But... you told me that muggles don’t like things that are different and more powerful than them. When you mentioned the witch hunts.”

“I did.”

“So wouldn’t letting all the muggles know about magic be... really dangerous?”

“Presumably. That’s what a lot of the old pureblood families seem to think, anyhow-- they never have taken well to change,” Kanzaki mused. “On the other hand... Onoda, I don’t know if you’ve been aware of magic for long enough, but you’ll soon find that the wizarding world is anything but perfect, and we have a lot of problems of our own. Problems that might have a better chance of being solved if we stop investing all of our energy into hiding away and instead work on cooperating with our muggle neighbors and bringing ourselves out of the dark ages, so to speak.”

Onoda was understandably very confused by all of this.

Noticing his confusion, Kanzaki smiled. “Thankfully, for the time being this shouldn’t concern you too much. All you need to worry about is working hard, studying, and doing well in your classes.”

Onoda frowned, recognizing a dismissal when he heard one. He jumped, startled, when he felt a hand clap down on his shoulder.

“That business aside, I’m glad you made a friend,” Kanzaki said, grinning down at him.

Onoda wanted to protest that he hadn’t necessarily made a friend yet, that he still probably wouldn’t unless he managed to (by some miracle) get sorted into Gryffindor and join the Quidditch team whilst whilst blowing the competition away in the process with his inborn skill at flying, but he didn’t want to disappoint Kanzaki so early on.

And maybe if he didn’t outright deny it immediately, he could live with the illusion of having actually made a friend just a little while longer.

Chapter Text

The first location Kanzaki took Onoda to after Onoda’s unintentional detour and their later reunion in front of the Quidditch supply shop was the wizard bank, Gringotts.

Upon hearing Kanzaki mention the name, Onoda recalled that the man had mentioned something about Gringotts earlier, just before Onoda had lost track of him. If Onoda had been thinking straight at the time, perhaps he would have remembered that and known where he could go to find Kanzaki for himself rather than panicking and waiting for him to return for Onoda on his own. Onoda scuffed his feet against the ground uncomfortably upon realizing this, once again made aware of how often he seemed to have to depend on having someone else to look out for him. He really should be more... what? Independent? Decisive? Reliable?

All the same... he wondered if this made him a bad person, but he couldn’t really regret getting lost, even if it was frightening at the time. He would probably never have met Naruko otherwise.

Onoda had, unsurprisingly, been nervous about going into the bank with Kanzaki. It was an old, hulking structure composed of snow-white marble, and it seemed to Onoda to be one of those boring, official places where snooty office workers would stare disdainfully whenever children or anyone who looked below a certain financial level came in, as if suffering their presence and just waiting for them to leave grubby handprints on the pristine walls. The last time Onoda had had an experience like that, he’d been with his mother, who always made an effort to look nice despite however tight their funds might be at the time. He imagined the reaction would be even worse on this occasion, with Kanzaki in his grungy t-shirt and Onoda with his clothes still rumpled and dusty from being dragged into an alley by a short hurricane in human form.

As it turned out, this bank was actually a little bit different then the ones he was used to.

Or a lot different, actually.

Gringotts was run entirely by goblins. Kanzaki hadn’t been given a second glance when he had approached one of the tellers (an old goblin with particularly large ears) and presented his key. The goblin himself was wearing a stunningly ugly suit that was heavily worn around the cuffs, starched to near-immobility and sported mysterious stains on the lapels. A quick glance around confirmed to Onoda that few of the many people in the bank could claim to be better-dressed than that.

Evidently the standards for dress and appearance were considerably less stringent in the wizarding world than they were in the muggle world, Onoda thought. It came as something of a relief to be freed at last from that particular worry.

This was also the first bank Onoda had ever been in where withdrawing money required a trip underground via mine cart to get to one’s vault. Kanzaki had already warned Onoda about Gringotts’ particular hatred for would-be thieves and had described some of the bank’s many, and creative, anti-theft measures, all of which served to convince Onoda to remain seated in the cart with his hands on his lap while Kanzaki entered the Hogwarts safe. Kanzaki had insisted it would be fine if Onoda came in provided he wasn’t actually planning on trying to steal something, but Onoda wasn’t willing to tempt fate and had (politely) refused.

Kanzaki had returned shortly with a small bag of what Onoda assumed was the money he would be using to buy his school supplies, and after they had returned to the surface their shopping day began in earnest.

Their first stop after the bank was Madam Malkin’s Robes for All Occasions, where Onoda was fitted for the black robes that were apparently Hogwarts’ traditional uniform. Naruko had mentioned that he had been in the middle of a robe fitting before he’d run off and Onoda was briefly hopeful that he’d be there again, but the redheaded boy had either left already or originally gone to a different store to buy his robes. Onoda’s disappointment must have shown, because Kanzaki misinterpreted it as him being annoyed at having to stand still while a grandmotherly witch stuck pins into the oversized robes he was wearing.

“Don’t give me that look,” Kanzaki chuckled. “This won’t take long, and provided we manage to get the rest of your stuff quickly I’ll even treat us both to some ice cream. How’s that?”

Onoda could have explained what he had really been thinking, but it wasn’t worth the effort. And Onoda did maybe kind of want the ice cream too.

After they had paid for the robes, Kanzaki took Onoda to a number of different stores to pick up his trunk, books, and potions supplies. The trunk was their first purchase by necessity, otherwise Onoda knew that there was no way they could have carried all the books he needed for school. There were eight books on his course list that were marked as required reading, and all of them were large hardcovers with heavy bindings and thick pages. Even with the trunk (which had wheels), Onoda knew it was going to be difficult transporting so many books.

Shortly after, they had bought a cauldron and Onoda had begun once again seriously reconsidering this whole “Hogwarts” idea, because there was no way he was ever going to be able to lift his trunk at this rate.

There were a number of other smaller things they did in Diagon Alley that day that didn’t strictly involve buying Onoda’s supplies. They visited the post office so that Kanzaki could send off the registration papers they had filled in earlier with Onoda’s mom, and Onoda had been amazed at the number and variety of owls that had been there, all waiting to carry letters or packages. Seeing his interest, Kanzaki had taken Onoda to visit the Magical Menagerie, where there were many more owls and other magical pets available for purchase. Onoda’s Hogwarts letter had said he was allowed a pet, but seeing the price tags on most of the cages made Onoda aware of just how little pocket money he had to last him the school year. Even if he were to get a pet, it was unlikely he would be able to afford a cage and food for it.

Despite this, Onoda still looked wistfully at the owls once more before they moved on. It would be cool to have a pet, and it would be really easy to keep in contact with his mom if he had his own owl. Maybe in a few years he could consider it.

Their last stop in Diagon Alley was Ollivander’s Wands. This was probably the part that Onoda had been the most excited about, if he had to choose one. He had seen Kanzaki perform magic with his wand, and from what Kanzaki had told him about his own magic, a wand would enable him to channel and control his magic instead of it just exploding out of him at inconvenient moments. And if Onoda was being honest with himself, there was a part of him that still clung to the belief that Kanzaki and Hogwarts and everyone who seemed to think that Onoda had the potential to be a wizard had all made a terrible mistake, and that he didn’t really have magic at all. Maybe once he got a wand, it would be what Onoda needed to finally convince himself that he could actually become a wizard.

Initially, the results of Onoda’s attempts to find the correct wand had been disheartening. The shopkeeper had seemed nice enough, if a little unintentionally creepy, as he measured Onoda’s arm and shuffled off into the back of the store, coming back with a variety of narrow, dusty boxes in his arms. He had opened the first box and presented it to Onoda, who gingerly picked up the wand the way one might handle a lit stick of dynamite and held it extended in front of him, feeling exceedingly foolish.

This first wand had been almost immediately snatched away, and no sooner had it disappeared into its box again then Onoda was offered another wand. He took this one as well, keeping his eyes on the shopkeeper for instructions, and with the man’s encouragement, he gave it a tentative wave.

A jet of flames shot out the end of the wand, catching a corner of the dusty drapes and setting them alight.

Onoda stared on in horror, unsure of what to do as his mind filled with images of the whole shop (which, unfortunately, appeared to contain and be composed of only the most flammable of materials) going up in flames, but before he could so much as stutter out an apology, the shopkeeper had extinguished the flames with a lazy burst of water from his wand.

Still frozen in shock even after the fire had gone out, Onoda hadn’t reacted as the man simply took back the wand he had been testing and offered another one.

He thought he heard Kanzaki chuckle behind him, and Onoda wondered if it was like this for every muggle-born student Kanzaki had brought to Diagon Alley for their first wand. The shopkeeper seemed used to repairing collateral damage to his store, so maybe this kind of thing was common, and even expected when attempting to select the correct wand.

Onoda felt a little bit better with that realization, and was considerably more confident when he gave the next wand an experimental wave.

***

It turned out that Onoda’s sudden confidence may have been misplaced, as that particular wand in his hands had caused several of the store’s light fixtures to explode, but he and Kanzaki did eventually leave the store with a brand new wand, and they themselves were only slightly singed and more than a little dusty to show for it. So all in all, Onoda thought that it had been a successful endeavour.

“Unicorn hair and poplar, that’s a nice combination,” Kanzaki said, handing Onoda his Choco-Nut Sundae before taking his seat. They had, in the end, stopped off at an ice cream parlour on their way out of Diagon Alley and they were now seated at one of the tables outside to eat their sundaes. Onoda didn’t get treated to ice cream very often, and certainly not anything this fancy, so it was a pleasant change of pace for him. In truth the whole day had been a change of pace, but the ice cream was by far the most normal, comforting part of it.

Still, it hadn’t been all bad.

“I guess you’re officially a wizard now that you’ve got your own wand, Sakamichi,” Kanzaki continued with a grin, licking his spoon. “Mind you don’t get tempted to test it out before you get to Hogwarts, though--the Ministry doesn’t like that kind of thing very much.”

Onoda nodded, taking in his surroundings as he swallowed his first spoonful of ice cream. It was late afternoon now, and the crowds were starting to die down a bit as people headed home for dinner. Now that Onoda was somewhere out of the way and knew what he was looking for, he could see that in that crowd, among the strange, bold, and downright outlandish people there were also many children who appeared to be his age, and looked nervous and lost as they dragged around heavy-looking trunks that were almost as big as them. Onoda wondered if these were also first year Hogwarts students.

Maybe, he thought, they might even be muggle-borns. Maybe they’re the same as me.

While he wouldn’t wish his own experiences of doubt, fear, and loneliness on anyone, there was something undeniably comforting about the possibility that, on their first day in the wizarding world, other children might have felt exactly the same as him.

Maybe, just maybe, this Hogwarts place would be good for him.

“Hey, Mr. Kanzaki?” Onoda asked tentatively. “I was just wondering... are your family muggles?”

Kanzaki gave him a small, slightly apologetic smile. “No, sorry. Kanzakis are pretty much wizard stock, though we’ve had a few muggles mixed in here and there in our family tree in the past.”

“Oh.”

“You probably want some advice on being a muggle-born in the wizarding world, huh?” Kanzaki asked, not unsympathetically. “I know I would in your position.”

“...Yeah, I guess,” Onoda admitted. “I just... I know you said earlier that I’ll be the same as everyone else at Hogwarts because we’ll all have magic, but there are so many things about being a wizard that I don’t know. Before today, I didn’t know about... Gryffindor and the Hogwarts houses, or about Quidditch, or wands, or that there’s apparently a place in London where you can go to buy powdered dragon claw or anything like that. I know you said there’d be a learning curve and that other muggle-borns have had to face the same thing before, but... how do they even do it? Do they ever get used to it, or are they always just a little bit worse at everything than their classmates?”

“That’s a bit of a heavy question, Sakamichi,” Kanzaki whistled. “But it’s a good one, so I’ll do my best to answer it. I’ll say this much straight out, though: being a muggle-born does not make you in any way lesser than people who come from wizarding families. It’s a fact, and it’s been proven a million times over. Your magic is going to be every bit as strong as your classmates from magical families, and you’re not... I don’t know, morally inferior or anything like that either. Some of the most talented witches and wizards, as well as some of the best people I’ve ever met have been muggle-born.

“That being said,” Kanzaki continued, frowning as he fiddled with his spoon, “you will probably come up against some obstacles during your time at Hogwarts. It won’t be your fault, but your initial lack of knowledge about magic and the wizarding world will mark you out as a muggle-born right from the start, and some prejudices run... unfortunately deep in our society.”

“What do you mean?” Onoda asked, worry beginning to twist his stomach. He looked down at his half-finished ice cream, suddenly not hungry.

Kanzaki sighed, scratching his head. “You know how earlier I mentioned that the wizarding world has a lot of problems? Well, one of these problems has to do with so-called “pureblood” families,” he said, making airquotes with his fingers as he spoke. “Pureblood families are kind of like the magical aristocracy-- they’re the oldest magical families, with wealth and standing in the community. The worst of them like to do things like trace their lineage and maintain that their family, throughout all of history, has never been “contaminated” by muggle blood. In the eyes of some of these people, there is a definite stigma on being a wizard with one or two muggle parents.”

“So... some wizards will see me as lesser because my parents were muggles?”

“Discrimination against muggle-borns tends to be frowned upon, but its roots are deep, and many pureblood children will be attending Hogwarts,” Kanzaki said with an awkward half-shrug. “It’s not unusual for them to end up parroting their parents’ toxic ideals. So... it’s possible you might run into people who think like that. I’m sorry.”

Kanzaki glanced at Onoda, and, upon seeing his worried expression, smacked himself on the forehead. “Ah, damn it. I was only trying to give you a heads up and I ended up scaring you. Look, all I’m trying to say is that in some ways, the odds are going to be stacked against you from the start. But that’s not your fault, and it doesn’t mean that you can’t overcome them.”

“But how can I do that?” Onoda asked.

“For the time being, all you can do is keep your head up,” Kanzaki said. “If anyone tells you you can’t do something because you’re a muggle-born, do your best to prove them wrong. Work hard. Make good friendships. See, Sakamichi, this isn’t a problem with you, it’s a problem with the wizarding world in general, which has a long history of both fearing and looking down on muggles. It sucks, but until magical society in general changes its tune, you’ll just have to do your best to roll with the punches.”

“And... do you think I can do that?” Onoda asked tentatively, looking directly at Kanzaki for the first time in this exchange. “All of those things... I’ve never managed well, even with muggles. Even though they probably didn’t realize it, the things that happened that made them scared of me were because of my magic. And now that I’ll be in a school for wizards and finally with people like me they might even hate me for being... what, not magic enough? I’ve never been talented at anything, and I’ve never had any friends, but I’m supposed to be able to that now just to prove myself worthy of being a wizard?”

“Not everyone you meet will be like that, Sakamichi,” Kanzaki said, his usual smile back on his face. “And you should always do your best regardless of who’s watching. Speaking of people you might meet, you should try to see if you can find my sister at Hogwarts this September. If you’re still interested in making friends by then, she is excellent friendship material, in my not-so-humble opinion.”

“You have a sister?” Onoda asked, distracted from his original train of thought in his surprise.

“Yes, her name’s Miki, and she’ll be in her first year too. I’ll be bringing her around to Diagon Alley next week to get all of her shopping done. I suppose I’ll also have to keep an eye on her to make sure she doesn’t smuggle a broom into her trunk when no one’s looking, though,” Kanzaki said, apparently half to himself. “I swear, that girl is even more obsessed than I was in my Hogwarts days.”

Apparently Kanzaki’s sister was, like Naruko, also a broomstick-flying fanatic. Perhaps they were common in the wizarding world, or Onoda just had the strangest luck.

“It’s going to seem weird,” Onoda admitted, “to go back home and put all this stuff away for a whole month. It’s going to be like this was some kind of strange dream when I’m back at home and everything is the same as it’s always been.”

Kanzaki chuckled, ruffling Onoda’s short hair amicably. “Enjoy it while it lasts, Sakamichi. One month will pass by quickly, and after that, a lot of things are going to change.”

Onoda silently agreed, yet still wondered whether in the end the changes would be for the better or for worse.

All that could be said with any certainty was that, once the summer ended, nothing in Onoda’s life would ever be the same.

Chapter Text

After finishing their ice cream, Onoda and Kanzaki had taken a cab back to Onoda’s house, arriving just as his mother was preparing to leave for work. She had willingly held the door open as Onoda and Kanzaki lifted Onoda’s now well-stocked trunk up the front steps and brought it inside, ratting off a series of excited questions about where they had gone and what they had bought as she did so. Kanzaki had expertly fended off these questions with polite smiles and non-answers, and Onoda privately thought that Kanzaki had probably had a lot of practice in this area in the past. If he was often called in to introduce muggle-born children like Onoda to the magical world, Onoda’s mother was certainly not the only curious muggle Kanzaki had had to deal with before.

Since his mother was obviously not satisfied with Kanzaki’s answers, Onoda knew he would probably be be subjected to a more rigorous interrogation the next time he saw her. He was guiltily thankful that his mother had to leave for work soon, which would at least buy him some time to put together answers that would both satisfy her curiousity and not reveal too many precise details about the wizarding world.

It seemed like, far from making Onoda’s life easier, dealing with magic was going to make his life a lot more complicated.

Kanzaki had been kind enough to help Onoda carry his trunk up the stairs to his room as well, although to be honest Kanzaki had shouldered the vast majority of the actual weight, leaving only the steering to Onoda. It had taken some time and a bit of clever maneuvering on the narrow steps, but eventually the trunk was successfully deposited at the foot of Onoda’s bed.

Once they had finished, Kanzaki straightened and dusted off his hands, his eyes wandering to Onoda’s TV and movie collection with interest. Before, Onoda might have taken this as further proof that Kanzaki was planning to rob them blind, but now he kind of suspected that Kanzaki was just interested in seeing the kind of stuff muggles cared about. For all Onoda knew, maybe wizard houses looked different than muggle ones and Kanzaki was just genuinely interested in learning what those differences were.

“Well,” Kanzaki said eventually, grinning at Onoda. “I think that just about covers everything I came here to do. For your first day in the wizarding world, I think you handled yourself quite nicely. You’ll probably take to it quickly-- hell, by the end of the school year, maybe you won’t even want to leave.”

Onoda seriously doubted that particular speculation would come to pass. “I-I don’t know about that,” he said hesitantly. “Today I mostly just embarrassed myself, and I caused trouble for you. If you think I’ll do well being a wizard then... I think you may end up being disappointed in me. I’m sorry!” he exclaimed, then quickly added, “It’s not that I think you’re lying or a poor judge of character or anything, but I just... don’t think I’m the person you seem to think I am.”

Kanzaki’s perpetual smile faltered slightly, and that was all the warning Onoda had before it morphed into something akin to a frown. “You sure are hard on yourself, for a kid,” he sighed, rubbing the back of his neck in an awkward gesture. “And you seem very acquainted with the limits of your abilities for someone who’s never really tested them before.”

Kanzaki paused, eying the cover of one of Onoda’s boxed television series. “Y’know, one thing I really admire about muggles is their ability to distract themselves from the mundanity of their own lives,” he said thoughtfully. “I think it’s really amazing that to them, it doesn’t matter if they never believe in magic or never get to do anything truly memorable or incredible, because they’ve invented so many ways of distancing themselves from that. I mean, if they can’t be the one taking chances and being extraordinary for real, they just find ways of watching someone else do it. I think it’s amazing,” he said, glancing at Onoda, “but it seems kind of sad too, doesn’t it?”

Onoda felt like Kanzaki was trying to lead up to a point, but he just chuckled and ruffled Onoda’s hair again. “Well, I’m sure you’ll understand later on. In the meantime, enjoy the rest of your summer. I’ll be on my way now, but I’ll see you again this fall, Sakamichi.”

“O-oh. Goodbye-- do you need me to show you to the door?”

“Nah, I’m sure your mom will be willing to show me out. Take care, okay?” Kanzaki said.

Just as he was halfway through the door, however, the man doubled back. “Oh, by the way, muggle technology won’t work at Hogwarts, so you’re going to have to leave the movies behind. Sorry about that-- anyway, see you later,” he said as he exited the room.

Onoda wondered if he was even going to survive the next year at this rate.

***

As Kanzaki had promised, the month of August passed by in a blur.

Onoda spent the next month largely the same way as he had spent the first, immersed in his comics and TV shows, now intent on enjoying them as much as possible in preparation for leaving them behind for the school year. Now that Onoda actually thought about it, he would also be missing out on a lot of new releases while he was away at school and would have no way to get ahold of them until the next summer, or maybe until Christmas. He supposed that, for the comics at least, he could just get his mother to buy them and send them to him, but he was loathe to consider asking her to waste more of her precious time and limited funds on him. In addition, even if he did get her to do this, Onoda wasn’t sure she’d be able to find an owl to use to send them to him. The only owl post office Onoda knew of was in Diagon Alley, where his mother couldn’t get to.

The only option left was getting as much satisfaction out of his current TV shows now as possible and packing his trunk with as many comics as he could carry.

Onoda, after having spent the first week or so after his trip to Diagon Alley studiously avoiding looking at the trunk by the foot of his bed, had eventually caved and opened it, taking a good look at his new belongings for the first time. His wand was still as pristine and perfect-looking as it had been in the store, all narrow lines and pale, well-varnished wood. Onoda was still almost afraid to pick it up, although only partially out of fear that he might damage it. Even though the wand shopkeeper had assured Onoda it was almost a perfect match for him, and not at all a temperamental sort of wand that might act up against his wishes, he still wasn’t entirely ready to trust that he wouldn’t make something explode by accident.

He had set the wand aside after that, and had begun delving into his textbooks, absentmindedly thinking that it might be a good idea to familiarize himself with the wizarding world a bit more before going to Hogwarts. This notion was short lived, however, as Onoda found the texts difficult to understand in many cases, often requiring the reader to already have background knowledge of the subject in question or making references to magical items or creatures Onoda had never heard of. He eventually put aside his History of Magic text with a sigh, hoping that most of the information he was missing would eventually be covered in class.

As Onoda continued to worry about his impending career as a wizard, the day of his departure drew steadily nearer until he woke up to his alarm early one morning, glanced at the calendar, and was suddenly filled with the worst sense of dread he had ever experienced.

It was September 1st.

It wasn’t like he had forgotten this day had been coming-- he had spent the last week packing and preparing for it, making sure all of his school supplies were back in their places, choosing casual clothes to take with him, and deciding on which comics he wanted bring (and then, when they failed to all fit, deciding which ones he couldn’t live without). For that one moment after he had woken up, however, he could almost have pretended that it was just a normal morning, and that his life wasn’t just about to be violently uprooted.

Onoda’s mother called from downstairs, her voice almost inaudible but probably saying something about breakfast, prompting Onoda to rise despite the overwhelming desire to bury himself in his covers and not move until they were so late for the train that there wouldn’t be any point in going anymore.

You’re not just doing this for yourself, Onoda reminded himself, you’re doing this for her too. If leaving is the only thing you can do to help, you should definitely do it.

It was with this mindset determinedly in place that Onoda went downstairs, and was greeted by a very surprising sight. The dining room table, which was more often than not unoccupied, given their lack of family dinners together, was set neatly for breakfast. There were already several serving plates set out as well, which were full of sausages, pancakes and sliced oranges. The smell was phenomenal, and Onoda realized he couldn’t remember the last time his mother had cooked them breakfast.

What’s more, he knew she hadn’t gotten home until late last night, meaning she had probably sacrificed most, if not all, of her sleep putting this together for him.

No sooner had this thought crossed his mind then his mother bustled in, beaming as she set a jug of juice down on the table. “Ah, there you are, Sakamichi! I was just about to go up and get you--you certainly don’t want to be late on your big day!”

Despite the fear over leaving that had still not abated, Onoda felt himself becoming suspiciously choked up. “You-- you made this all for me?” he asked.

“Well, of course,” his mother said matter-of-factly as she began pouring their drinks. “This is the last meal I’ll be able to give you for awhile. The food at Hogwarts will probably be excellent, since it’s a rich school and all, but you have a long train ride today and I don’t want you going hungry. I’ll make you a sandwich to take along as well, just in case.”

It all sounded so normal, it was hard to reconcile her tone with the fact that everything was changing so quickly.

“Well, we’d better eat up if we don’t want to miss the train,” his mother continued, seating herself and beginning to fork some sausages onto her plate. “I’ve called a cab for us, and it should be here somewhere around 8:00. The Hogwarts Express doesn’t leave until 11:00 so you should have plenty of time to get there. Do you still have the ticket Mr. Kanzaki gave you?”

“Uh, yes,” Onoda said as he sat down. He was honestly not particularly hungry, but his mother had obviously put a lot of work into the meal and he wasn’t about to refuse to eat just because of his nerves.

Onoda ate a respectable amount, although apparently not as much as his mother would have liked if the small worried lines that appeared on her forehead were any indication. Nonetheless, she did allow him to leave the table and continue getting ready, and limited her say in the matter to stuffing a large paper bag in his hands just as they were leaving the house with the explanation that it was “For lunch.”

Onoda had been to King’s Cross Station before, although today it seemed like a brand new place. He was surprised that apparently the station was, in addition to being an important hub of muggle transportation, also a stop for trains to exclusive wizard training schools, although in all honesty this was not the strangest truth he had had to confront lately. The station was crowded this morning, and Onoda kept his eyes out for other younger people who, like him, might have been pushing a heavy trolley with a trunk on it, maybe with the addition of a wrapped broomstick or an owl cage. He wondered if he’d even be able to spot Naruko’s red hair in the masses of people, or maybe Kanzaki with his little sister.

It would be nice to meet up with someone friendly, Onoda thought wistfully. The train ride would probably be pretty long, and he’d likely be alone for all of it. At least he had his comics with him, but still-- the company would have made for a welcome change.

“All right, so according to what Mr. Kanzaki told us, the Hogwarts Express will be leaving from Platform 9 3/4,” Onoda’s mother said, snagging a station map from a display and unfolding it. “He also said that it’s unmarked, but that it’s actually located inside the barrier between Platforms 9 and 10. Isn’t that fascinating, Sakamichi? I never dreamed there might be so much more to the world than what we see every day.”

“Uh... yeah,” Onoda replied, feeling a bit sick. It wouldn’t be long now before they reached the platform, and Onoda’s stomach was already in knots.

The closer they got to Platforms 9 and 10, the more people Onoda spotted who looked like they might be witches or wizards. There were adults who seemed to be wearing incongruous clothing, appearing either too old-fashioned or just weirdly eccentric, and he was also noticing more children his age pushing trunks in front of them. His suspicions were confirmed when a boy ahead of him accidentally tipped his cart and his trunk struck the ground, spilling a pile of spellbooks onto the floor. His mother scolded him for clumsiness and hurriedly cleaned up the mess before leading him off again, glancing around to make sure no muggles had noticed.

Almost too soon, they arrived at the platform, and Onoda’s mother reached out, catching Onoda in a warm embrace.

“I’m so happy for you,” she said, stroking her hand through Onoda’s short hair as if attempting one last time to tame the perpetual bedhead. “I think that this is a sign that you’re meant for important things, and I’m so proud of you for being so brave. I hope you work hard and have a lot of fun while you’re gone.”

Onoda blinked away the tears that were gathering in the corners of his eyes. He wanted to protest that he wasn’t being brave at all; that he was only going because he was too cowardly to say what he was really feeling, and that he knew it would be selfish to demand that his mother continue to make so many sacrifices for his sake. But he couldn’t say that out loud, not when Sachiko Onoda finally had a reason to be proud of her son for the first time in her life. He wanted their parting to be a happy one, at least on her side.

“I’ll send lots of letters,” Onoda promised, burying his face in her shoulder. “I think the school will have owls that the students can use... for mail and stuff. I’ll tell you all about it if you’d like.”

“That would be wonderful,” his mother said, pulling away and smiling at him. “But I’m sure you’ll be plenty busy as it is, and you’ll probably having too much fun to be sending your boring old mother letters all the time. I’d love to hear from you if you have the time, but I don’t want you to compromise your enjoyment just for me, okay?”

There wasn’t much of a chance of that, but Onoda nodded anyway.

Onoda thought his mother looked a bit teary-eyed herself as she straightened his collar one last time. “I’d better let you go now. Make sure you remember to change into your robes while you’re still on the train.”

“I will,” Onoda answered, his throat tightening. “Goodbye, mom. Please take care of yourself.”

She laughed. “Listen to you, all grown up. You make sure you remember to take care of yourself too. I love you, and I’ll miss you.”

Their goodbyes having been said, Onoda recognized that it was time for them to part ways. Taking a deep breath and letting it out showly, Onoda readjusted his grip on his trolley and took the first, seemingly vast step toward the barrier between platforms 9 and 10.

He paused once, turning back for one last look at his mother, but she only smiled encouragingly at him and waved, prompting Onoda to wave back once more before continuing.

Kanzaki had given Onoda clear instructions to ignore the barrier and walk right through, maybe even taking it at a bit of a run if he was nervous. Despite every instinct in his body telling him to stop (because that was a solid brick wall in front of him for God’s sake), Onoda squeezed his eyes shut and blindly powered through.

When he opened his eyes, he was met with the sight of a brilliant scarlet steam engine sitting idly at the platform in front of him, where seconds ago there had been none. Onoda turned again to look behind himself, but rather than seeing his mother waving back at him, all he could make out now was a solid brick wall. Although logically Onoda knew that he could probably just walk back the way he came if he so desired, just the sight of the wall barring his way back into the familiar world made him feel cut off, at a loose end now that this last connection to his life as a muggle had been severed.

The platform was crowded with parents (presumably all witches and wizards) saying their final goodbyes to their children who would shortly be boarding the Hogwarts Express. Onoda glanced around the area once more for Naruko or Kanzaki, not really surprised by his inability to find them, and resigned himself to not having a familiar--or at least, slightly less unfamilliar-- face with him for the journey.

Once he had handed his ticket to the conductor, loaded his luggage and boarded the train, the reality of the situation truly hit Onoda for the first time. The inside of the train was already crowded despite it still being well before the time of departure, and these children were almost exclusively boisterous and excited and loud. This sort of situation, all magic aside, was exactly the kind of social situation Onoda had never been good at. It reminded him a bit of having a full tray of food and trying to find a spot to sit in the cafeteria at lunch, everywhere he looked being met with expressions of suspicion or distaste until he was forced to find some lonely little corner to eat in rather than sitting where he obviously wasn’t welcome.

Although instead of a lunch tray he had a bag containing his robes and an assortment of comics and instead of a table he was attempting to find a free compartment in which to make the journey to Hogwarts, the feeling of apprehension was identical. He hoped that he would be able to find an empty compartment so he wouldn’t have to intrude on anyone else and would be able to read his comics in peace, but most of the compartments looked like they were already occupied, and Onoda certainly wasn’t brave enough to risk asking anyone if it’d be okay if he joined them.

Naruko would have no problem in this situation, Onoda thought. Although he hadn’t known the other boy for long, he was sure Naruko would just barge in and start talking and by the end of the trip everyone would be kind of exasperatedly fond of him. At the moment, Onoda really wished he was more like Naruko, and was capable of approaching people so unabashedly.

Eventually, Onoda found a compartment that, when he peeked surreptitiously through the small window, seemed to be empty. Almost weak-kneed with relief to have found a refuge from the mobs of people outside, Onoda slid open the door, only to be immediately confronted with the narrowed eyes and displeased face of what had to be the sole occupant of the compartment. The boy’s grey eyes were extraordinarily chilly as he regarded Onoda, apparently having been interrupted in the middle of reading a book.

“W-what? O-ops I’m really sorry, I h-had no idea there was already someone else in here. I’m sorry I didn’t knock... haha....” Onoda stuttered, attempting to explain himself.

The person Onoda had accidentally intruded upon was thin and pale-looking, with a straight nose, thin lips, and cold grey eyes. His hair was almost unfashionably long, but he had the look of one of the “popular kids” that Onoda had, by necessity, learned to recognize in school: a person who wasn’t popular for being friendly so much as for being sort of good-looking, mysterious, and maybe a bit scary as well.

This boy was definitely a shining example of the sort of kid Onoda had always made a habit of avoiding.

Flustered, Onoda babbled, “I’m sorry for interrupting your reading--I’ll leave now. I’m really very sorry!”

He ducked quickly out of the compartment, accidentally slamming the door in his haste to escape. Onoda winced, hoping the boy wouldn’t be angered enough by the intrusion or the carelessly rude way Onoda had shut the door to come looking for retribution later.

In the meantime, he still needed to find a compartment.

Onoda was unfortunately met with little success in his endeavor, as no matter how far down the train he went, it seemed that every compartment had already been taken. The number of people in the corridor was steadily decreasing as well, as the train’s departure time neared and more and more students found places to sit.

Onoda was just wondering if he should just take a seat in the middle of the corridor when someone behind him tapped his shoulder.

“Hey, kid,” the owner of the voice-- an older girl, maybe somewhere around fifteen or sixteen-- said. “The train’s going to be moving in just a few minutes. You’re going to want to get your things stowed and find a compartment before then.”

“Umm...” Onoda said, “do I have to sit in one of the compartments? I’m honestly fine out here--”

“Sorry, no loitering allowed in the corridors while the train’s in motion.”

“But there are no compartments free,” Onoda said nervously.

The girl rolled her eyes. “Then just find one that’s not too crowded and ask if you can share theirs. Simple.”

Onoda wanted to protest that it was not simple, but the girl had already moved off to chew out another kid for hanging around the corridors.

Onoda was at a loss as to what to do. If staying in the corridor was not an option, and neither was finding his own compartment, the only thing he could possibly do would be what the girl had said: ask someone if they’d be willing to share.

Onoda personally thought he would rather step out of the train while it was moving at full speed than approach a complete stranger and ask to sit with them. What’s more, the compartments weren’t just already occupied, most of them appeared pretty full already. In many cases, it didn’t look like another person could fit anyway, even if Onoda did summon up the courage to ask.

Except, there was one compartment that had definitely not been full to capacity....

Onoda shook his head, balking at the idea of asking the cold-eyed boy he had accidentally interrupted earlier if he could share with him. It was a terrible plan-- Onoda had, after all, already encountered first-hand the reason why the other boy had been sitting alone. He obviously hated being around other people and probably scared them all off so he could have the space all to himself while he read. This was definitely not someone Onoda wanted to associate with, especially after having possibly angered him already.

But when it came down to it, it really was his only option. Gathering all of his wavering courage, Onoda made his way back to the compartment he had attempted to sit in earlier and took a deep breath before hesitantly knocking on the door.

He didn’t hear a reply, but decided to open the door anyway. He took extra care to do it slowly this time, so as to give the angry boy plenty of warning that he was coming in.

When he was once again confronted by those narrowed eyes, now touched with incredulity as well as annoyance, Onoda felt his already-shaky confidence falter.

“H-hi, it’s me again, heh...” Onoda said, shifting uneasily from one foot to another. “Sorry again for bothering you earlier, but all of the compartments are full and I was w-wondering... I was wondering if I could maybe sit here as well? It’s fine if you don’t want me to! I can just--”

“--Yeah, whatever,” the boy said in a bored tone, turning back to his book.

“E-excuse me?”

“If you want to sit here,” the boy enunciated carefully, as if Onoda were a small child, “then you can.”

Onoda blinked; he certainly hadn’t expected this outcome. “What-- really?”

“Yes. I don’t really care as long as you’re not loud or annoying,” the boy said. “If you’re able to keep quiet, I don’t mind you being here.”

Onoda thought that he might be forced to re-evaluate his initial impression of this particular person. If he was willing to share his seat and risk jeopardizing the peace and quiet he obviously preferred, maybe he wasn’t such a bad person after all.

“Don’t just stand there smiling, it’s weirding me out,” the boy complained. “If you’re going to sit, then sit.”

Onoda took a seat on the bench across from the boy, embarrassed at having been caught up in his thoughts. Outside the window, Onoda could see the platform slowly begin to shift in his perspective, and he realized that the train was starting to pull out of the station.

For better or for worse, Onoda was finally leaving for Hogwarts, where he was going to learn to do real magic and train to be a wizard. It was still just as terrifying an idea as it had always been, but maybe there was a little bit of relief attached to the fact that at least the waiting was over now, too. At least soon he’d have more answers to his many questions, and he’d be able to concentrate on real problems as he encountered them instead of worrying over the fake ones that were conjured up by his mind.

Onoda pulled out the first of his comics, savouring the familiar feel of it in his hands and finding himself reassured by the familiarity, as he always was. He glanced over at the other occupant of the compartment, wondering if he should risk disturbing the silence one last time, and decided that he would regret it if he didn’t.

“By the way,” Onoda said, opening his comic book. “My name’s Sakamichi Onoda.”

Onoda had already purposely looked away, but he thought that the other boy might have glanced up briefly.

“Shunsuke Imaizumi,” was his only reply.

After that short exchange they lapsed into silence again, although it was a comfortable one, and Onoda felt himself relaxing a bit more. Soon he would have to change into his robes, and after that he would be forced to brave the masses of other Hogwarts students, be sorted into his house, and probably many other things that hadn’t even occurred to him yet.

For now, at least, he didn’t have anything better to do than read quietly as the scenery passed by outside, and for the time being, Onoda was content.

Chapter Text

As Onoda had suspected, given the stipulation that he could only share the compartment if he kept quiet, Shunsuke Imaizumi was not a particularly chatty individual. For the most part he seemed content to ignore Onoda entirely, appearing thoroughly engrossed in his reading every time Onoda snuck a look at him from the corner of his eye. Onoda tried to respect that Imaizumi wanted his peace and quiet to remain undisturbed, but as time passed and the train continued to rumble and clank its way across the countryside unabated, it was rapidly becoming clear to him that he must have inherited more of his mother’s curiousity than he had previously thought.

Onoda had spent the first part of the trip successfully distracting himself from the other passenger in the compartment by reading the comics he had brought, but he had already read them before and it didn’t take long for him to get through them all again. Once he was finished, he glanced over at Imaizumi, wondering if the other boy was as bored as he was.

Imaizumi was still reading, brow slightly furrowed but he otherwise appeared to be completely at ease. Onoda decided, upon noticing how little progress Imaizumi seemed to have made in his book since he had last looked over at him, that either the book he was reading was massive or not as much time had actually passed as it seemed to him. Or perhaps it was a combination of the two.

Onoda was also gradually becoming aware of just how quiet it was. It wasn’t like there was dead silence--the wind was whistling against the glass of the windows, and the sound of the train’s wheels on the track wasn’t exactly what he would consider restful, but the lack of dialogue or ambient sound in the compartment was beginning to get to Onoda. He knew Imaizumi liked the quiet, but this was a bit extreme for his tastes. Other than the occasional sound of a page turning, Imaizumi made no sound at all.

So naturally, with nothing else to occupy himself with, Onoda’s thoughts turned toward the only thing of note in his general vicinity: Imaizumi himself.

Onoda wondered if Imaizumi was a muggle-born like he was, or if he was from a family of wizards like Kanzaki. Maybe he already knew a lot about magic already, or maybe he felt as lost and confused as Onoda. Maybe that could also explain why he seemed to be so antisocial... was he really just shy?

Onoda cast a quick look over at the other boy, taking in the somewhat haughty lines of his face and his steady hand as he brusquely turned a page of his book.

Not likely, he thought doubtfully.

Onoda wondered what Imaizumi was reading about that clearly had him so engrossed. Maybe he was one of the smart kids and he was getting a head start in reading his textbooks, like Onoda had attempted and failed miserably. Naruko had mentioned that there was a house at Hogwarts for smart kids, so maybe that was where Imaizumi was hoping to end up. If he was a muggle-born he would probably want to grab every possible opportunity to study before they arrived at Hogwarts. That was one potential explanation, anyhow.

It was impossible to say for sure whether Imaizumi was muggle-born or from a magical family because he was already wearing his Hogwarts robes, and had been since Onoda had first seen him. Then again, clothes wouldn’t necessarily have been the deciding factor enabling Onoda to tell whether someone was from a muggle family or a magical one. Naruko had a wizard mother. but although he was... a bit different, there was nothing about his clothing choices that had made his parentage clear. Onoda noticed that Imaizumi’s shoes looked brand new and shiny and he thought that they had probably been expensive, but other than that there were few hints as to what he was really like beneath the unapproachable exterior.

On the other hand, maybe he was--

“Okay,” Imaizumi said in an annoyed voice, dropping the book on his lap and narrowing his eyes at Onoda. “That is probably the seventh time in the past minute that you’ve looked at me and then looked away quickly like you don’t want me to notice. What’s your problem?”

“I-I uh...” Onoda stuttered, caught off guard at having been noticed. “I w-wasn’t so much looking, as... as, umm... wondering about some...things? I’m sorry, though! I promise I’ll stop!”

Onoda hastily fumbled to pick up one of his comics to feign reading again, but he misjudged their position on the seat and only succeeded in knocking the entire stack onto the floor.

Imaizumi, meanwhile, was looking at him with an incredulous expression, as if floored by the heights of stupidity and awkwardness Onoda had proven himself capable of reaching that day.

“A-ah, I’m sorry!” Onoda exclaimed, sliding from his seat to retrieve his comics from the floor as quickly as he was able. “I’m really sorry I bothered you, I promise I won’t even move for the rest of the trip. Please don’t be angry--”

Imaizumi rolled his eyes, and Onoda belatedly realized that his constant apologies were probably what Imaizumi would consider “noisy” and that Onoda couldn’t be helping his case much by continuing to beg for forgiveness. Yet again, Onoda appeared to only be capable of messing things up, or taking a bad situation and making it worse. This was all starting to seem very familiar.

“What’s that you were reading?”

Onoda glanced up from the floor, staring at Imaizumi in surprise. Not only had he actually asked a question about Onoda of his own volition, he maybe even sounded... tentatively interested?

What was more, he had asked about Onoda’s comics. No one had ever done that before.

“I-it’s a comic series,” Onoda explained, still nervous to talk to Imaizumi but tentatively excited to talk about something he actually enjoyed to someone who seemed interested. “The main character is a girl named Princess Kotori and she’s learning to be a--”

“These are muggle comics,” Imaizumi said, raising an eyebrow. “The pictures aren’t moving.”

“Yeah, I guess they... wait, the pictures in wizard comics move? There are wizard comics?” Onoda asked, stunned by the revelation. “That’s amazing!”

“Uh... yes, they do, and there are,” Imaizumi said, appearing slightly off balance for the first time since Onoda had met him. “I-I’m not really a fan, though.”

“Oh,” Onoda said, deflating as he recognized the dismissal in the other boy’s tone. He thought that that would be the end of their brief dialogue for the rest of the trip, but once again, Imaizumi surprised him.

“So you’re a muggle-born, then” Imaizumi stated as Onoda finished picking up his comics and returned to his seat.

Onoda, startled, replied. “Yeah... my mom is a muggle, and I think my dad was too. He left when I was little, though, so I guess there’s a chance that he might have been magic? I don’t know for sure, though.”

“Since you also don’t know that all wizard pictures move yet, I’m going to assume that this is your first year,” Imaizumi said, fiddling with the pages of his book but not yet making an obvious attempt to continue reading. Onoda optimistically took this to mean that their conversation wasn’t over yet.

“Y-yeah,” Onoda said. “I only found out about magic a bit over a month ago.”

“Hm.”

So maybe calling it a “conversation” would be a bit of an overstatement.

Summoning up his courage, Onoda asked, “You?”

“What?” Imaizumi asked, face scrunched with confusion.

“I was just... wondering which year you’re in and if your parents are wizards or not?”

“Oh. I’m in my first year. And yes, they are,” Imaizumi answered in a bored tone.

Onoda was half-waiting for him to elaborate, but there didn’t appear to be further clarification forthcoming.

“It must have been cool,” Onoda said, prompting him to continue, “to grow up knowing magic is real.”

“I suppose,” Imaizumi said, still not taking the bait.

“So uh... you probably know lots of stuff about magic and Hogwarts already, right?” Onoda asked, scrambling now in an attempt to keep the conversation from becoming too awkward.

Imaizumi shrugged, fidgeting with his book. “Some, maybe.”

“Do you know what house you want to be in yet?”

Imaizumi’s thin lips tightened, and a muscle in his jaw twitched, but it didn’t appear to be Onoda he was angry with, as his eyes remained fixed unseeingly on the book in his lap. “I don’t care as long as it’s not Slytherin.”

Onoda had initially been willing to brush off Imaizumi’s brief answers as just being a result of stubborn annoyance, but the vehemence in his voice during that last response told Onoda that there was more to it than that. He was beginning to suspect that maybe the reason why Imaizumi was trying to shut down this particular line of discussion was because he was actually uncomfortable with the topic.

Onoda wasn’t used to reading the mood in conversations (and wasn’t particularly used to many conversations in general, to be honest), but he decided to try his best to salvage this one anyway.

“So...” Onoda said, and Imaizumi watched him warily through his narrowed eyes, “what were you reading before?”

Imaizumi glanced back down at his book, obviously surprised by the sudden change in topic. He picked it up again, marking his spot with his finger while he turned it so that Onoda could see the cover.

Quidditch Through the Ages.

Onoda was beginning to wonder if it was true that everyone in the wizarding world went through life perpetually obsessed with Quidditch, or if he just had a habit of falling in with the wizard equivalent of jocks by sheer coincidence.

“O-oh,” Onoda said. “I know about Quidditch.”

“Really?” Imaizumi asked, and-- there it was, the narrowed eyes were gone and he was suddenly legitimately interested in the conversation again.

Okay, Quidditch. Onoda could do this, he just needed to remember everything he could from that one conversation he had had with Naruko outside the Quidditch supply store... which had been a whole month ago. What had he said again? Something about Bludgers? Chasers? Snitches? There were a bunch of different balls and different positions to play as, so maybe Imaizumi would want to talk about those?

“Do you play Quidditch?” Onoda asked, starting off easy and hoping to avoid revealing just how little he knew about the game.

Imaizumi nodded. “I play a bit. I haven’t been in an actual game yet, but I have my own broom and set of balls at home that I practice with sometimes.”

All right, this was good. “Which position would you most want to play as?”

Imaizumi appeared to have to think about his answer for a second. “I’m probably too tall to be a Seeker for long, and Beater isn’t interesting to me,” he replied eventually. “Maybe a Chaser. I think Keeper would be good too.”

“Someone I was talking to about Quidditch a while back told me that he thought Seeker was the flashiest position, so he’d like that one the best,” Onoda said, smiling slightly at the memory.

Imaizumi grimaced. “Your friend sounds like a real idiot.”

“Oh, no, we’re not friends,” Onoda insisted, flustered by Imaizumi’s easy assumption. “Not that I’d mind being friends, but we only just met fairly recently and I don’t want to assume...” he trailed off awkwardly.

“Can I ask which position would you want to play as on a Quidditch team?” Imaizumi asked. “I feel like we’ve only been talking about me so far. Aren’t you interested in playing too?”

Onoda swallowed. “Well, I... uh...I guess I could probably....” he tried to come up with an answer, but much like what had happened when he had been having a similar conversation with Naruko, he came up blank. “I-I don’t know. To be honest, I don’t even know that much about Quidditch. I was just... trying to find something to talk to you about.”

Onoda braced himself for Imaizumi’s anger or disappointment, but it didn’t come. To be perfectly honest, he didn’t even look particularly surprised.

“Well of course you don’t know much about Quidditch yet, you’re a muggle-born,” Imaizumi said, sounding only slightly irritated. “You told me you’ve only known about magic for a month, so there’s no way you’ll know about everything right off the bat. Are you interested in playing Quidditch, though? For real?”

“Um... maybe? I don’t know.”

“Then read this,” Imaizumi said, holding out the book he had been reading on the trip, the one that had prompted this entire mess of a conversation about Quidditch. “Take the time to actually figure out what the game is about, and then decide if you want to play or not.”

“B-but I can’t! You were just reading this-- it’d be rude to take it from you,” Onoda protested.

“You’re not taking it,” Imaizumi said. “I’m lending it to you. I’ve already read it all anyways, and you can’t tell me you haven’t done the same for all of your comics. Just take a look at it,” he said, adding in a different voice, “I promise it’s interesting.”

“O-oh, okay,” Onoda said, accepting the book. It was pretty intimidating-looking and not at all the sort of thing he would choose for free-time reading himself, but Onoda was touched by the gesture and he wanted Imaizumi to think well of him, so he figured it couldn’t hurt to give it a try. “Thank you. But what will you...?”

He trailed off, and Imaizumi raised an eyebrow at him expectantly.

“I guess... if you wanted, you could read my comics?” Onoda suggested.

Imaizumi’s right eye twitched, but he didn’t outright dismiss the idea, so Onoda pressed on. “The story is really quite good, and the character growth is handled very well as the plot goes on. I think that Kotori is a great main character and that the series would be a lot more popular than it is now if more people would just give it a chance! I have the first book here if you want,” Onoda said excitedly, picking the comic from the top of the stack and holding it out to Imaizumi. “Please give it a try, at least for the rest of the train ride?”

Imaizumi sighed, pushing his bangs back in mild exasperation. “Fine,” he said, taking the comic from Onoda’s hand. “But only because I’ve never read a muggle comic before. And only while we’re on the train.”

Onoda grinned delightedly, practically bouncing on his seat. He had finally, finally managed to convince someone to give his comics a try. Shunsuke Imaizumi wasn’t a bad person at all--in fact, maybe he was even sort of nice, in a distant, standoffish sort of way. He seemed willing enough to put up with Onoda and his awkwardness, after all, and he had trusted him enough to lend a book he obviously enjoyed to him.

With their new reading material in hand, Onoda and Imaizumi settled once more into silence, although it was a more comfortable one this time. Somewhere between where they were at the moment and their final destination, Onoda would have to change into his robes, but he thought there was probably enough time to get a good start on Imaizumi’s Quidditch book before that.

Onoda was glad he had met Imaizumi. It was even possible that, if he was very lucky, they’d all be sorted into the same house. It would be amazing, Onoda thought, if he, Imaizumi, and Naruko all ended up in Gryffindor together. Maybe they could all be friends that way, and sit together in class and spend all their free time together like Naruko had suggested before.

It was a silly dream, maybe, but it wasn’t outside the realm of possibility.

And it was with that realization, Onoda soon found himself looking forward to their arrival at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, even just a little bit.

***

By the time the train finally came to a stop at the station, it was dark out and Imaizumi had finished reading all of the comics Onoda had brought with him on the train. Onoda, in contrast, had made little progress with Quidditch Through the Ages, partly because of the length of the book and partly because he kept pausing to ask Imaizumi what he thought of a particular event or character when they came up in the comic.

Imaizumi hadn’t seemed as enthusiastic as Onoda had hoped he would be, but he didn’t seem to dislike the comics outright, either. For the most part he seemed merely baffled by the laws of the “fictitious magical system” that Kotori was supposed to be familiarizing herself with, and he was also convinced that her animal sidekick/mentor was an “animagus,” as otherwise it would apparently make no sense for him to be able to talk.

Whatever that was supposed to mean.

But all in all, it could have been a lot worse. Imaizumi had given the comics back to Onoda as they exited the train alongside the other students, and Onoda tried to return Imaizumi’s Quidditch book, only to be told to hang onto it for a bit longer if he was still interested. Onoda had tucked the book away after that, promising to himself that he would take good care of it and return it as soon as possible. It was, after all, the first time someone had let him borrow something that they actually cared about, and Onoda felt warm and happy just thinking about it.

It was cold outside the train, and they had huddled in their robes for a few minutes outside the train, at a loss as to what they were supposed to be doing, until a person with a lantern appeared and called all the first years over to him. Taking care to keep close to Imaizumi in the ensuing rush of first years, Onoda had followed the voice’s directions and they were soon being led down a narrow path towards the shore of a large, deep-looking lake.

“Um... Imaizumi, do you know where we’re supposed to be going?” Onoda asked. “I mean, I thought we were going to a school, but--”

“The train lets Hogwarts students off at Hogsmeade, which is a town near the castle,” Imaizumi replied. “So there’s a bit more travel required beyond the end of the Hogwarts Express’s route. The other students will arrive by carriage, but from what I’ve heard, it’s a tradition to make the first years travel across the lake to get there.”

He phrased his answer matter-of-factly, but Onoda thought he saw Imaizumi’s lip curl disdainfully at the prospect of having to get across the entire lake just to reach the....

Wait.

“Wait, did you say ‘castle’?” Onoda asked. “Hogwarts is a castle?”

Imaizumi turned and stared at him blankly. At the same time, his pace unconsciously slowed, resulting in the person walking right behind him on the path ramming into his back. The first year swore and looked up with angry eyes, ready to confront the one who had gotten in his way, but upon meeting eyes with Imaizumi and registering both his impressive height and his cold glare, he seemed to decide against it.

Turning his attention back to Onoda, Imaizumi said briskly, “Yes, Hogwarts is a castle. Didn’t they tell you anything before sending you here?”

“Well, I guess they told me some things,” Onoda answered, staring at his feet uncomfortably. “Maybe it was implied at some point? Or maybe it’s just not as important as the other things that I did get told about.”

“Hm,” Imaizumi said. “I apologize, then.”

Onoda blinked. “For what?”

“For assuming you already know about things that you don’t,” he said. “You already told me you were new to the magical world, so I should stop expecting you to know as much as any other person from a wizarding family, and being surprised when you need something explained.”

That was... a surprisingly decent thing to say. Not that Onoda hadn’t already thought Imaizumi was a decent person before, but he now had the distinct impression that Imaizumi had just given him permission to ask him about things he might be confused about in the future.

“At any rate,” Imaizumi continued, “You’ll have a chance to see Hogwarts for yourself soon enough. The fog’s a bit thick tonight, but once we get closer we should be able to see it.”

Onoda didn’t know how he could respond to that, but it turned out he didn’t have much of a chance to anyway. When he and the other first years reached the water’s edge, they were guided to a fleet of small boats and instructed to climb aboard, with no more than four to a boat. He managed to scramble into the same boat as Imaizumi before it could fill up, so although two of the other passengers were complete strangers, he wasn’t entirely alone. It was a bit of a relief to have someone he knew a little close by, especially considering Onoda was still uncomfortable around water. Although he had eventually learned how to swim, there was probably a vast difference between doing a doggy-paddle in a heated pool and swimming for one’s life in at night in a deep, cold lake and Onoda was not exactly eager to explore those differences should the boat sink or tip over.

True to Imaizumi’s words, the fog thinned the further onto the lake they got, and soon Onoda could make out the shape of a massive, multi-turreted castle atop a mountain ahead of them. The castle was dark against the foggy sky, making it difficult to see specific details, but the windows were lit, casting bright reflection’s on the lake’s surface.

It was a wholly impressive sight.

But also, Onoda thought as he felt his heart clench, a nerve-wracking one as well. This was the place he would be spending the next seven years, studying magic with other witches and wizards. It was grand and distant and so completely unlike anything he had ever experienced, and he had absolutely no way of knowing what it would be like inside.

Onoda glanced over at Imaizumi, wondering what he was feeling at the sight, but his face was unreadable. Onoda didn’t think it was just the poor lighting that was making that the case.

Before long, the boats were gliding under a high rock face and into a hidden cove, coming to a halt by a staircase cut directly into the rock. Onoda, by this point, hoped the staircase would lead directly into the castle despite his trepidation over what he would find there, as the combination of the cold and the fog served to make him feel unpleasantly damp and shivery. He was pretty sure he’d accept any fate at this point so long as there was the possibility of a functioning heat source in it somewhere.

Once they had all exited the boats, the first years were led up the staircase, which ended at a heavy wooden door. The man who had led them to the boats knocked three times on the door, which swung open to reveal a balding, heavyset older man who greeted the cluster of frightened-looking children with a wide smile.

“Welcome first years!” the man said, beaming. “My name is Professor Pierre, and I’m delighted to meet all of you. Now, if you’ll please follow me inside, we can get started!”

He seemed friendly, Onoda thought, but a glance at Imaizumi showed him looking skeptical. He wondered offhandedly what Imaizumi hadn’t liked about him as he hurried through the door.

Once the first years had all gathered inside the entrance hall and the door had been closed, Professor Pierre once again addressed his audience.

“All right then, I’m sure you’re all very hungry, and we do have a magnificent start-of-term banquet planned for later this evening, but we just have a few things to address first,” he announced. “In a few minutes you will be invited to enter the Great Hall to be sorted into your houses. There are four houses that you may be sorted into, which are Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin. Your house will be like your family while you are at Hogwarts, as you will be expected to attend classes with other members of your house and sleep in your house dormitory. Your house may also lose or gain points throughout the year based on recognition of your accomplishments and demerits for your rule-breaking, and at the end of the term the house with the most points will be awarded the House Cup, which is a great honour. I hope you all will strive to be a credit to whichever house becomes yours.”

Onoda swallowed nervously, thinking back to Naruko’s introduction to the Hogwarts houses and wondering how he could possibly be an asset to any of them. He couldn’t remember exactly what each of them had meant either. Gryffindor was the one Naruko had wanted to be in, he remembered, because it was where they put the brave people.

If Onoda wanted to be in the same house as Naruko, it wasn’t looking good for him. He certainly wasn’t feeling particularly brave at the moment.

“The sorting will begin shortly. When the main doors open,” Professor Pierre said, gesturing toward the double doors on the opposite side of the hall, “you’ll be expected to make your way into the Great Hall in a calm and orderly fashion, so I’d like to ask you to please take this time to line up in alphabetical order by last name.”

Under the professor’s guidance, the first years began shuffling around, attempting to orient themselves into the correct position in line. It took some bumping and jostling, and in the process Onoda found himself separated from Imaizumi, whose last initial was considerably earlier in the alphabet than Onoda’s was, but eventually Onoda found his place in line between two much taller boys. He shifted awkwardly, feeling small and somewhat lost.

“All right, that should be everything,” Professor Pierre said brightly. “To reiterate, the doors opening will be your cue to enter, and please try to keep the correct order as you do so. Thank you, and good luck to you all!”

The professor exited, and Onoda was left to wonder what they would have to do to be sorted. He hoped he wouldn’t be expected to do any magic-- the most relevant reading he’d done at this point was all related to a broomstick sport he didn’t even play.

Onoda glanced around, wondering if Imaizumi was near enough to ask about how the sorting would be determined. He was such an idiot-- he should’ve asked Imaizumi about it earlier, but he honestly hadn’t thought of it, and now it was too late. The people around him were all complete strangers so he definitely couldn’t just go up and ask any of them....

Craning his neck in attempt to see around the taller individual in front of him, Onoda was surprised to see that the back of the head just in front of the other boy was a bit familiar.

Well, not the back of the head so much as the hair. Specifically, the colour, which was a dark but unusually intense shade of red. As if this wasn’t enough to confirm his suspicions, he also noticed that the redhead was short, considerably more so than most of the people around them--perhaps about Onoda’s height.

Finally, after all this time spent keeping a hopeful eye out for someone he recognized, he had found Naruko.

Onoda opened his mouth reflexively, preparing to call out to him. Maybe Naruko knew what the sorting process would involve. Maybe he had been looking for Onoda, too, because he remembered meeting another Hogwarts first year in Diagon Alley a month ago.

Just then, the boy-- it was Naruko, Onoda was sure of it now-- let out a raucous laugh in response to something the girl ahead of him had just said, prompting others to turn around and shush him. Unbothered, he resumed chattering to the girl, oblivious to the dark looks being thrown away for daring to act so carefree in such a serious moment. He certainly didn’t seem at all nervous, unlike most of the people waiting in the hall.

When Onoda attempted to greet Naruko, however, he found that he couldn’t. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to, it was just that, seeing Naruko interact with such familiarity to other people who were likely near-strangers called into question Onoda’s own relationship with him. Onoda realized he had kind of been assuming that, because they had met in Diagon Alley and Onoda remembered the other boy so well, Naruko would have placed an equal amount of significance on their meeting. This was obviously not the case-- Naruko was different from him, and looked as if he interacted with people as freely and easily as breathing.

With a sinking feeling, he realized that meeting Onoda had probably not been important to Naruko at all. In fact, if Onoda tried to greet him as an acquaintance now, there was a good chance he would be met with nothing but a blank stare and a bluntly phrased ‘who are you?’. They were pretty much strangers, after all.

And it was established that attempting to start a conversation with a stranger was something that Onoda couldn’t ever see himself doing, so he closed his mouth and moved back into line, feeling considerably more disheartened than he had been before.

His agony was not prolonged, however, as at that moment, the doors swung wide, admitting the first years at last into the Great Hall.

They filed in slowly, and when Onoda’s portion of the line was finally admitted, he found himself distracted slightly from his predicament by how strange--and how wonderful-- his surroundings were. The hall was massive, lit by floating candlesticks that hovered above the four large tables where the older Hogwarts students sat. The place settings looked like they were made of gold and the roof was either perfectly clear or another piece of magic, as Onoda could see the dark, cloudy sky rolling gently above them through it. The hall looked like something out of one of his comics, a fantasy place that could never exist in reality. He barely resisted the urge to pinch himself to make sure he wasn’t dreaming.

They reached the front of the hall just as Professor Pierre reappeared, carrying a four-legged stool and an extremely shabby-looking pointy hat out and placing them on the floor in front of them.

Every face in the hall was watching the hat expectantly, and at a loss as to what he should be doing, Onoda joined them.

He didn’t know what he was expecting, but it certainly wasn’t for the hat to burst into song.

The hat’s song was basically the same story Naruko had told him before, about the four founders of Hogwarts creating the school and the qualities they looked for in students, although the information was a little more detailed than Naruko, who obviously had a Gryffindor bias, had described it. According to the hat, Gryffindors were brave, daring, and chivalrous, and Hufflepuffs were hard workers, patient, and loyal. Ravenclaws were the ‘smart kids’ Onoda had remembered Naruko mentioning, who valued wit, intellect, and learning. Slytherins were resourceful, cunning types who had great ambition. Judging by the way the hat phrased it, they were all admirable skill sets to have.

Too bad Onoda couldn’t see how any of them would apply to him.

Professor Pierre unrolled a long piece of parchment. “When I call your name, will you please sit on the stool. The Sorting Hat will then be placed on your head and you will be assigned to your house.”

The professor called up the first student, who nervously approached and took her seat on the stool, glancing around warily as the hat, which was quite large, descended over her eyes. The hat remained still and silent for several seconds before shouting, “GRYFFINDOR!”

The hat was removed from her head, and the now-smiling girl was directed to take a seat with the other Gryffindor students, who were all cheering for their new addition. The professor called out the next name on his list, and the process continued.

Soon enough, however, the professor reached a name Onoda recognized.

“Imaizumi, Shunsuke!”

Onoda watched as Imaizumi, looking composed apart from the way his hands periodically clenched and unclenched, broke away from the line and, like the students before him, sat on the stool as the professor put the hat on his head

Unlike the previous students, however, the hat remained silent for a considerably longer amount of time. Most of his face was obscured, but from the little Onoda could see he could tell Imaizumi’s mouth was a tight line. Whatever was going on, he definitely didn’t seem very happy about it.

Finally, the hat shouted “RAVENCLAW!” and the professor removed it before Imaizumi stood and made his way toward the applauding blue and copper table, attempting to flatten his hair unsuccessfully as he went. His composure was amazing, but Onoda thought he saw something akin to relief in his eyes.

He must have been imagining the slightly grudging tone the sorting hat had announced Imaizumi’s house with, though.

Several more students were sorted before another name Onoda recognized was announced, and he looked up, started.

“Kanzaki, Miki!”

So this was Kanzaki’s sister, Onoda realized, as a pretty girl with long brown hair approached the stool. She had something of her brother about her face, although her features were slightly less foxlike and more rounded and open. She was grinning hugely as the hat was placed over her head, and the hat only paused for a moment before declaring “HUFFLEPUFF!”.

Miki Kanzaki was clearly someone who had come to Hogwarts knowing how everything was supposed to go.

There were no other names Onoda recognized for a stretch although there was a small moment of lightheartedness as one boy, who was later sorted into Slytherin, had to be called up multiple times as he appeared to have dozed off on his feet while he was standing in line. After that minor inconvenience had been cleared up, however, the sorting progressed at a good pace until--

“Naruko, Shoukichi!”


Naruko practically skipped up to the Sorting Hat, almost tripping on his robes in the process. Onoda thought they looked a little long for him, and remembered Naruko having mentioned that he had been in the middle of a robe fitting that day in Diagon Alley when he had run off and ended up meeting Onoda. It was possible that they had never gotten the chance to be adjusted properly because of that.

Naruko seemed to be having trouble keeping still long enough to get the hat on his head, but luckily for him it barely had to brush the tip of one wild red spike before announcing “GRYFFINDOR!”.

Naruko, obviously delighted, hopped off the stool and dashed toward the Gryffindor table, once again nearly falling flat on his face when his foot got caught in his robe, to the hoots of laughter of the applauding Gryffindors.

Onoda was glad Naruko had been placed in the house of his choice. It seemed like a good place for him, and it was nice to see him so happy with this result.

Still, Onoda thought, a little bit sadly, it would have been nice to be in a house with friends.

With Imaizumi in Ravenclaw and Naruko in Gryffindor, there was no way Onoda’s dream of being in a house with both of his almost-friends could ever come true. He supposed there was still a faint chance he would end up in a house with one of them, but Onoda wasn’t vain enough to think he was smart enough for Ravenclaw or brave enough to be a Gryffindor. Chances were good that he’d never be able to get close enough to them to form a friendship ever again.

The boy who had been between Onoda and Naruko in line was called forward, and after he had been sent off to his new house, the name “Onoda, Sakamichi!” was called.

Onoda supposed there had always been a part of him, ever since he had first received his letter from Hogwarts, that had remained convinced somehow that this was all a mistake and could even now be all over at the wave of a hand. Hearing his name announced now shook that belief a little bit, admittedly, but the fact remained that Onoda had no idea which house he would belong in, if he truly belonged in any at all.

What if there was no place to put him, and he just sat on that stool with all the eyes in the hall expectantly on him until someone finally clued in that Onoda didn’t actually have any of the good qualities required for each of the different houses?

What the final verdict was that he didn’t belong in Hogwarts--in this world of magic--at all?

Onoda wondered what a hat could tell him that he didn’t already know for himself.

Chapter Text

Although realistically Onoda knew that it hadn’t really taken him any longer to reach the stool where Professor Pierre waited with the Sorting Hat than it had for any other student who had been sorted so far, it still seemed as if time slowed the closer he came to his destination. He was intensely aware of the eyes of both the older students at their house tables and his own classmates on him, the weight of their gazes felt almost like a physical force that was dragging him down. Onoda had never liked being the center of attention at muggle school, often taking advantage of his (lackluster, but just passable enough) performance in classes and lack of any social life to fly under the radar and avoid drawing attention to himself. Now, he had only just reached Hogwarts and he was already finding that avoiding peoples’ notice was going to be a challenge, as apparently in the wizarding world it was customary for newcomers to have their personalities publicly assessed via talking hat in front of the whole school the minute they arrived.

Like many other apparent staples of the wizarding world, Onoda had definitely not seen this coming. He really, really should stop being surprised.

When Onoda finally reached the stool he must have looked nothing short of terrified, because Professor Pierre smiled reassuringly at him as he gestured for Onoda to sit down. Swallowing nervously, Onoda did as directed and took his seat on the stool, looking out over the hall at the numerous faces that were all turned to watch him in this incredibly significant moment. Onoda almost wanted to leap off the stool and run for the doors, but that would almost certainly result in him making an even bigger spectacle of himself, so he forced himself to remain in place although his grip on the sides of the seat tightened.

Before he could even think of changing his mind and fleeing the room, the hat was placed over his head. It was rather large-- an adult wizard’s hat if the founding legend was to be believed-- and it almost immediately slipped over his eyes, blocking out the sight of the audience. The dark came as almost a pleasant respite, offering Onoda a sense of privacy and momentarily allowing him to forget the fact that he was still perfectly visible to outside eyes.

It was only a relief until he heard the voice, however.

“Hmm... you’re another one who’s going to be difficult, aren’t you?”

It took all of Onoda’s presence of mind to avoid whipping around to look for whoever (or whatever) had just spoken. Such an action wouldn’t have done him much good, considering his vision was still entirely obscured by the hat, and in addition, Onoda also suspected that the owner of the voice actually was the hat. The voice sounded similar to the one it had used to sing its song and announce the house of each student, but it was quieter, and seemed to come from all around him.

“You’re a muggle-born who doesn’t much about magic yet...but that shouldn’t be a problem, that’s why you’re here to learn, of course.” There was a pause. “And you also think you don’t belong anywhere here?”

Onoda felt his heart stutter. He sincerely hoped that he was the only one who was hearing all of this. It was bad enough a hat was going to know about all of the negative and self-deprecating things he’d ever thought about himself-- he didn’t think he could stand it if the rest of the student body knew it too.

The hat continued, “Let’s see if we can’t disabuse you of that particular notion, shall we? You lack confidence, and you think you lack courage as well... but that doesn’t appear to be the case, no, certainly not. You have some sense of ambition, but you’ve never attempted to nurture it. Gryffindor might be a good choice for you based on that. However....”

Onoda tensed.

“...You value other people greatly. You have a strong sense of morality and responsibility to higher orders and people who have your respect... it just appears as though they’ve been underutilized so far.”

It sounded as if the Sorting Hat had nearly come to a decision.

“I think... in this case you would benefit the most if you focussed on that. If you have no further input of your own to offer, you’d better be...

“HUFFLEPUFF!”

The hat was removed from Onoda’s head almost before he had registered that the last word had been said out loud for the entire hall to hear.

So, he realized dazedly as the other students erupted into applause the same way they had for all the previous first years who had worn the hat, it looked like this proved one thing beyond a doubt at least: he was truly a Hogwarts student after all. He stood awkwardly for only a moment, feeling a bit lost, then began making his way toward the table belonging to his new house.

He was apparently a Hufflepuff now. His mind momentarily blanked on how the Sorting Hat had described the house in its song, but Onoda knew that the Hufflepuff table was the one with the yellow and black banners with the badger insignia on them, which was surrounded by the students that appeared to be cheering for him the loudest. Onoda also had an inkling that, back in Diagon Alley, Naruko had mentioned something about “nice” people getting sorted into Hufflepuff.

He... supposed it could be worse. Onoda felt like he could deal with being sorted into a house for being “nice” or something equally as whimsical as that. At the very least it would almost guarantee that his housemates wouldn’t pick on him or steal his belongings, and would probably understand if he wanted to be left in peace.

It was just....

It was still a little sad that he had briefly found comfort in the possibility that he could potentially be sorted into the same house as Imaizumi and Naruko, and in the end he hadn’t ended up with either one of them. Imaizumi was seated at the blue and copper-adorned Ravenclaw table, already intently watching the hat as he waited for the next student step up to be sorted, and Naruko was at the scarlet and gold Gryffindor table, and appeared to be applauding for him somewhat distractedly as a stocky boy loudly--and unsuccessfully-- attempted to speak to him over the din. Imaizumi and Naruko would both be getting on with their lives without Onoda, and in a few months’ time (or weeks; he needn’t flatter himself that it would take that long) they would likely forget they had ever met him.

This was probably too unsurprising an outcome to be truly upset over, he told himself despite the way his heart fell at the thought. Onoda would just have to be sure to return Imaizumi’s book to him before that happened.

When Onoda reached the Hufflepuff table the students were quick to shuffle down the bench so that Onoda would have room to sit down, which he was thankful for because he would never have been able to summon up the courage to ask if they’d be willing to move otherwise. He perched awkwardly on the end of the bench, attempting to stay close to the edge and to take up as little space as possible. Sooner or later he supposed he might get used to being in close quarters with these people, but they were all strangers to him at the moment and he was feeling a bit cornered.

Which made it all the more surprising--and inconvenient-- that they all seemed to want to talk to him.

“Hey there kiddo, welcome to Hufflepuff!”

“Glad to see you here, can’t let Gryffindor get all the new ones now, can we?”

“You had the hat on for awhile, huh? I thought you were going for a hatstall for a moment there, I’ll admit--”

“A hatstall? It’s not like it took that long-- have you ever even seen a hatstall before or are you just trying to be melodramatic--”

“Sheesh, this one looks terrified--it’s like he thinks we’re going to bite. Why do we get all the timid ones, huh?”

The last statement had come from a thin boy with stringy dark hair and what appeared to be a permanently mistrustful expression etched upon his face. Onoda looked down uneasily under his stare and clenched his hands in his new robes, not feeling entirely comfortable with this particular housemate. He reminded Onoda a bit too vividly of the sort of people who had brought with them the most relentless bullying back when Onoda was in muggle school.

Maybe Naruko had been wrong. It looked like Hufflepuff might not be just for “nice” people after all.

“S’funny that you’d be the one to say that, Arakita,” replied another boy, interrupting Onoda’s train of thought. This one was even stranger and possibly even more intimidating than the first. He was pale and unusually tall and gangly, and sported a bizarre hairstyle in an alarming shade of purple. “After all, I’ve always been under the impression that biting was your thing. We can hardly blame the first year for picking up on that now, can we?”

The suspicious-looking boy--Arakita, probably-- snarled in lieu of a more verbose reply, and the purple-haired boy continued, “Now, maybe we should think about settling ourselves down and paying attention to the rest of the sorting, hmm?”

And just like that, the rest of the table quieted down, and Onoda found himself no longer the center of the other students’ discussion. Onoda heaved a stuttering sigh of relief at being left alone once again, but his respite was brief. Just as the student whose name had been called following Onoda’s had been sorted into their new house, he felt a tap on his shoulder.

“Hey, mind if I sit here?”

Onoda spun around in his seat, coming face-to-face with a girl of about his own age, who was smiling at him in a way that made Onoda feel slightly uneasy. It was, Onoda thought, something like a knowing smile that graced her lips. Even though her expression could only be interpreted as pleasant, it didn’t look like she was the sort of person who was ready to take “no” as an answer, either.

“Um, yes! I mean no. Sorry, I-I don’t mind... is what I meant to say,” Onoda stuttered, attempting to shuffle closer to the edge of the bench despite the fact that if he moved more than an inch further he’d be on the ground.

“Thank you!” the girl replied cheerfully, seating herself easily next to Onoda. “I hope I’m not making you too uncomfortable, but I’d been wondering what you’d be like ever since my brother told me about you, so I wanted to come over and introduce myself. I also wanted to congratulate you on your sorting-- I think it’s pretty exciting that we ended up in the same house!”

“Oh!” Onoda said, realizing that this was the same girl he’d seen go up to be sorted when the name ‘Kanzaki, Miki’ had been called. “You’re Mr. Kanzaki’s sister, right? He mentioned that you’d be coming to Hogwarts this year.”

“Yep,” she beamed. “I’m Miki. And you’re Sakamichi Onoda! Toji told me he had to help a boy from a non-magical family pick up all of his school things this year, and I was hoping I’d get a chance to meet you! I just wanted to make sure I wouldn’t overwhelm you too much at first. It must have been really different being raised in a Muggle family and I bet it’s a bit shocking to suddenly be away from all that.”

“Uh... I guess,” Onoda said awkwardly.

“Well, even if it is, you seem to be handling it really well so far,” Miki said, looking at Onoda with something like an expression of approval. “I think you’ll get used being here pretty easily.”

Onoda wondered what exactly he had done to give off that impression.

“After all,” she continued, either oblivious to or politely ignoring Onoda’s incredulous expression, “you’ve only just arrived at Hogwarts and you’re already on speaking terms with Shunsuke, which is an accomplishment in itself.”

“Shunsuke?”

“Oh, I guess you probably still call him Imaizumi,” Miki replied lightly. “I didn’t make the connection before I heard your name during the sorting, but you’re the one he came in with today, aren’t you? You were together when you came off the train, and on the boats. The times I looked, you seemed to even be having a real conversation with him, and that’s certainly a rare sight!” she chuckled. “When I realized that the person he was getting along with so well was you... well, that’s when I knew I had to meet you for myself.”

“I... get along well with Imaizumi?” Onoda asked, wondering if Miki was perhaps misreading the situation. Sure, Onoda could definitely accept the fact that Imaizumi wasn’t an especially sociable person and that he liked his space. He could also accept that Imaizumi had been amazingly civil to Onoda compared to what he had initially been expecting from him, which was something more along the lines of dunking people in toilets or verbally abusing people who got in his way.

But the idea that the frowning, easily annoyed, and intimidating boy he had for a brief time shared space and reading materials with had been Imaizumi in an exceptionally good mood was more than a little bit difficult for him to wrap his head around.

“Yes, he seems to like you,” Miki said, smiling.

And wasn’t that just the strangest thing he had heard all day.

...Okay, so it wasn’t. It was still pretty odd, though.

Rather than attempt to argue, Onoda asked, unsure if he was prying but interested nonetheless, “You seem to know Imaizumi really well..?”

“I do, at least... fairly well,” Miki said, shrugging. “We go back a long way. We were neighbors for pretty much our whole lives, and when we got a bit older we would sometimes practice Quidditch together. He’s not especially friendly and... well, I guess people tended to steer clear of his family somewhat, so he never really had any friends. He’s not a bad person, though... I think most people meet him for the first time with expectations of what he’ll be like, and I think that bothers him more than he lets on.”

“What... if you don’t mind me asking,” Onoda hastily corrected himself, “what exactly do you mean about people not liking his family?”

Miki pursed her lips thoughfully. “I guess you’re probably not quite familiar enough to recognize this kind of thing, but the Imaizumi family is what wizards like to call “pureblood.” I don’t know if you’re quite aware of--”

“Oh,” Onoda said. “No, I know what pureblood means-- Mr. Kanzaki told me, actually. He said that it means that the family is very old and wealthy and powerful and they don’t have any muggle blood in them, right?”

“That’s a pretty good explanation of it,” Miki replied. “It’s a bit more complicated than that, of course, but that’s the gist of it.”

“And Imaizumi is a... pureblood?”

“He is,” Miki confirmed. “I barely ever went over to his house and because of that I never saw much of his parents, so I don’t really know what they’re like beyond being powerful people in the Ministry. I do know that Shunsuke was alone an awful lot when he was little, though. I’m not sure if he honestly likes being alone that much or he’s just gotten used to it, but I think that now, even if he was lonely, he wouldn’t know how to ask for company.”

Onoda felt his gaze fall to the floor. Maybe he was just reading into it too much, but when it was phrased that way... maybe he and Imaizumi had a surprising amount in common. Onoda was no stranger to the feeling of attempting to keep himself occupied to avoid thinking about his own loneliness. He had experienced a few moments of something almost like... camaraderie when he and Imaizumi were reading together on the train. Maybe Imaizumi had felt that too.

“But I think being here might be good for him,” Miki said, perking back up. “I was surprised he was put into Ravenclaw-- pretty much his entire family is Slytherin, which is often the case in pureblood families-- but I think it’s good that he’s going to have the chance to interact with people who are less like his own family. It may be an eye-opening experience for him.”

Onoda distinctly remembered Imaizumi, when asked which house he wanted to be placed in, answering grimly that he’d rather be put anywhere rather than in Slytherin. He wondered how much of that particular opinion had been motivated by his family and home life.

“And that brings me to my next point!” Miki exclaimed suddenly, gesturing to Onoda, who jolted a bit at her change in tone. “Even though he’s away from his family now, everyone in the school with even a drop of wizard blood in them will be able to recognize Shunsuke as being a pureblood-- the Imaizumi name is just too well-known. He’s also pretty awkward about socializing, so I was worried that he’d have trouble making friends. But then I saw how well he seems to get along with you, and I was wondering if you’d be willing to do me a favour?”

“Uh... I... okay?” Onoda answered, flabbergasted at being asked. “What do you want me to do?”

Miki drummed her fingers on the table, looking slightly uncomfortable for the first time in their conversation. “I was wondering if you could... I don’t know how to say this without it sounding weird, sorry,” Miki said. “I was thinking that, if you didn’t mind spending time with Shunsuke... you could maybe try to be his friend?”

Onoda blinked, startled by the unexpected request. “But... doesn’t he have you already?” he asked, privately thinking that the idea that Onoda could somehow provide something in a friendship that someone like Miki couldn’t was outrageous. Miki, based on their first meeting, seemed like a kind and outgoing person, and was someone anyone, Onoda included, would be happy to consider themselves friends with.

“Well... I guess so,” Miki said. “But it’s different with me. We’ve known each other for a long time so he’s... used to me, I guess, but I’m still from a wizarding family. I knew about his family and his blood status before I even met him and he knows it, so on some level that’s always affected the way we’ve interacted with each other. If I had to guess why he doesn’t mind spending time with you, though, I’d say it’s because you haven’t been raised to have any expectations regarding who he is or how he’s supposed to act. You didn’t even know he was a pureblood when you met so he didn’t feel like he had anything to prove to you.”

“But I didn’t make a good first impression,” Onoda protested. “I thought he was scary. When I first went into his compartment on the train without asking he glared at me and... I ran away.”

It was only after the words had left his mouth that it occurred to Onoda that he had just admitted something that had the power to be the source of many future embarrassments in the wrong hands, and that the person he had spoken it to was someone he didn’t know all that well yet. He hoped that Miki wasn’t secretly a malicious sort of person, or the next seven years were definitely going to be long and wretched ones.

Miki laughed, and Onoda flushed red to the tips of his ears. He also sincerely hoped she wasn’t actually laughing at him. “So all he had to do to if he wanted to change your mind about that was to try being nice to you,” she said confidently. “And you probably responded to that by believing the best of him-- after all, you haven’t been raised in the wizarding world. Your assumption was based on how he acted toward you, not on who his family was. I imagine something like that might have even been a nice change for him!”

Onoda thought that there was a distinct possibility that Miki was onto something. Imaizumi had seemed to relax slightly upon seeing Onoda’s non-magical comics and learning that he was a muggle born. And really, what other reason could there possibly be to explain why someone who was good-looking and apparently rich and smart as Imaizumi actually enjoyed spending time with Onoda?

“Anyways, you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to,” Miki said breezily, patting his arm in a manner that was maybe a bit too friendly for two people who had just met, but it seemed to come off as perfectly natural coming from her. “I just thought that if you didn’t mind talking to him you might be willing to try spending more time with him, too. It was just a suggestion, though. You can make friends with whoever you want.”

Onoda nodded. “Okay... well, I guess....”

He glanced over toward the Ravenclaw table again. Imaizumi’s face was as impassive as it had been the last time Onoda had seen it, and his narrowed eyes were still fixated on the space at the front of the hall where the last few students were in the process of being sorted. Onoda thought that he didn’t seem... scary, necessarily, but he certainly wasn’t giving off an impression of being particularly approachable, either.

It seemed so easy when Miki said it, but “being friends” with Imaizumi was definitely not going to be a simple task for someone like him.

“...I’ll think about it,” Onoda said finally, staring down at the table.

Miki didn’t seem too disappointed by his halfhearted reply, thankfully. She even offered him a reassuring smile, and Onoda couldn’t help but feel a bit better. Miki did have a very nice smile. “It’s your choice, of course. If you do end up trying to get closer to him though, I recommend you try striking up a conversation about something he’s interested in.”

“You mean something like Quidditch?” Onoda asked.

“Exactly!” Miki beamed. “That’ll definitely work to get a conversation started. Once he’s invested, you can talk about other things but I think it would go better if you... eased him into it a bit first. As I said before, he is a bit awkward.”

“O-okay,” Onoda stuttered in reply. “Thanks for the....”

The advice? The strategy? The plan of attack?

What exactly was he thanking her for again?

“Oh, it’s no problem,” Miki said before Onoda could finish. “Anytime.”

Onoda felt that she really meant that too, whatever it was that she was actually referring to. He was incredibly confused, but luckily was saved from having to come up with a response, as Professor Pierre was rolling up his list of names and the stool and the Sorting Hat were being carried out of the hall. Evidently, the last few students had been sorted into their houses (and Onoda felt slightly bad about having not paid better attention to the proceedings), but there was nothing he could do about it now. It was probably incredibly selfish of him, but he was at least grateful that he hadn’t missed seeing any of the people he knew or cared about one way or another be placed into their houses.

Professor Pierre returned to the hall shortly and took his seat at the head table next to the other teachers, and once everyone was seated comfortably the headmaster rose to give the start-of-term announcements. This was something quite similar to Onoda’s experiences in muggle school, but the actual content of the speech was slightly different. There had been the customary welcome message for new students, although Onoda was convinced that there hadn’t been any mention of Forbidden Forests or Quidditch tryouts in the announcements at his old school, although here those were apparently important things that the student body of Hogwarts had to be kept up to date on. Neither of those messages would have any particular effect on Onoda himself, though, or so he thought. He knew that he wasn’t old enough to try out for a Quidditch team even if he wanted to play on one (and he didn’t), and it kind of boggled his mind as to why anyone would want to sneak into something referred to by the headmaster as “the dark forest.”

The speech was short, thankfully, and when the headmaster had finished and was sitting down again, the empty dishes on the tables in front of them were suddenly overflowing with food. Onoda had never seen so much food in one place at once, all of it things he liked and, judging by the look and smell, cooked to perfection.

“Toji never would shut up about the food here, I’m glad I finally get to see what he was going on about for all these years,” Miki said brightly as she served some roast beef onto her plate. “Care to pass the rolls please, Sakamichi?”

Onoda hurried to do as she had asked, still a bit startled by the sudden appearance of food where there had been none before. He would have thought that he’d be too nervous to eat, but his stomach clenched almost painfully when the smell hit him, and he was reminded in no uncertain terms that he hadn’t eaten anything besides a few pancakes and a sandwich all day. Feeling shy but hungry nonetheless, Onoda handed the basket of rolls to Miki, taking one for himself at the same time. He also helped himself to two different types of meat (and felt exceptionally daring), some fluffy-looking mashed potatoes, and gravy, taking some delight in the fact that he would be able to eat as much as he wanted. At least his mother appeared to have been right about Hogwarts having good food.

He decided to take some vegetables as well, thinking of his mother and knowing he’d feel guilty if he didn’t, but he ended up reaching for the cooked carrots at the same time as another student, and when they nearly touched they both drew their hands back awkwardly, eying the other for some indication of how to respond. The other student, Onoda noted nervously, was the older boy with the long purple hair from earlier-- the one who had silenced the shifty-eyed boy. He looked at least as uncomfortable as Onoda, but some of that (and Onoda felt guilty for thinking this) might just have been his face.

“Um... were you wanting the... uh....” Onoda began, wondering how people usually responded to small everyday awkwardnesses like this. Probably not like it was the end of the world, which was probably how it would end up sounding when Onoda was done with it.

“... The carrots?” the other boy asked, an uncertain look on his sallow face.

“Yeah!” Onoda exclaimed, although in retrospect it was probably said with significantly more vehemence than the situation strictly warranted. “But I mean... you were reaching for them first-- you can have them.”

“Eh...” the boy said, “no, it’s okay... I don’t mind waiting.”

“But you’re... an upperclassman, aren’t you?”

“And you’ve just been sorted... you had to come across the lake too. You’re probably starving.”

“No, I’m fine!”

“Well... if you insist,” he said with a shrug, carefully spooning out a tiny portion of carrots for himself. There were plenty still left in in the bowl when he was finished and Onoda briefly wondered if the boy was taking less to ensure Onoda got as much as he wanted, but a quick glance at his plate soon confirmed that everything on the other had taken so far was in equally tiny portions. Maybe he was just a light eater?

“Thanks,” the boy said, handing off the bowl of carrots to Onoda.

“T-thank you,” Onoda replied, nervous about being caught staring.

“So...” the purple haired boy said, pushing around his potatoes with his fork absentmindedly, his eyes hovering between Miki and Onoda, “You two are some of our new first years, I guess.”

Miki raised her head, swallowing her current mouthful before smiling. “Yes we are, pleased to meet you!”

“Uh, yeah,” Onoda answered halfheartedly.

“Sorry if this seems... weird... to ask, but I heard you mention the name ‘Kanzaki’ earlier, and I couldn’t help but wonder...” the boy began.

“Oh, yeah. That would be me,” Miki answered. “I’m Miki Kanzaki-- Toji’s my older brother. And this is Sakamichi Onoda!”

The boy blinked, clearly wondering if the name “Sakamichi Onoda” was one that he should be able to recognize. Instead of commenting on it, however, he spared Onoda a nod before addressed Miki again. “So you’re Kanzaki’s sister... I was wondering if I misheard during the ceremony, but I guess not. You look quite a bit like him... Miki, was it?”

“Thank you very much,” Miki said.

“So are you a Quidditch player like your brother was?” the boy asked. “I never got to play alongside him but I’ve been hearing how amazing he was since I first came here, and he’s no slouch as a coach either. Is it... kind of a thing in your family?”

“Well,” Miki said, lips pursed in thought. “I do love Quidditch, but I don’t play exactly like he did either. Toji was a Seeker, and I was never really good at that.”

“So what do you do then?”

“Given my choice? I think if I was on a Quidditch team, I’d definitely want to be a Beater,” Miki replied, grinning.

“Oh,” the boy said, and Onoda thought he looked surprised enough to lose a bit of the awkwardness that had been present for the entire conversation so far. “Well... I can definitely say I didn’t expect that. You’d be pretty small and light for a Beater but if you’re anything like your brother I’m sure you’ll be spectacular. I know you can’t try out this year, but the team would be happy to have you when you come back after the summer.”

“Thank you,” Miki said. “Sorry, I don’t think I caught your name?”

“Oh. It’s Yuusuke...” he said. “Yuusuke Makishima. I played on the Hufflepuff team as a Chaser last year.”

Miki smiled at him, offering a “Pleased to meet you!” while Onoda echoed his own introduction to Makishima with a nod.

“So, what about you, Saka... michi?” Makishima asked, clearly not convinced he had remembered Onoda’s name correctly. “Are you thinking of trying out for our house team next year, too?”

What was with all these wizards trying to get him to play Quidditch?

Rather than voicing that particular thought out loud, however, Onoda took the safe route and answered, “I’m... not sure yet? I’m mostly just learning about it right now.”

Thankfully, it didn’t seem as though Makishima was going to force the issue. “It’s okay,” he said. “It would be great if you could try out-- most of our team is made up of older students right now so there’ll be plenty of positions open next year... and I guess our Seeker from last year just graduated so we’ll be needing to replace her soon, too. But that’s all up to you, in case you were interested.”

“Okay,” Onoda said. “Thanks.”

“Come to think of it, my brother might actually have mentioned you to me once before,” Miki said thoughtfully. “Hufflepuff is his old house, so I think he likes to keep an eye on how the team is doing now that he’s not on it anymore. I think remember him saying that you were a really good flyer for your age and that you had a lot of potential!

“He really said that?” Makishima asked, looking away as if embarrassed. Onoda thought he might have looked a bit pleased though, too.

“Although... I’m pretty sure he also described you as having orange hair.”

“Oh,” Makishima said, picking up a lock of his hair and examining it. “I guess it was orange last year, wasn’t it... I change it up fairly often, though.”

“You colour your hair?” Onoda asked, and immediately felt like an idiot.

No, of course Makishima didn’t colour his hair; it was definitely purple naturally. Because lots of people were born with purple hair. Onoda was so stupid-- what were Miki and Makishima going to think of him now?

“Yeah...” Makishima replied, remarkably not commenting on Onoda’s lapse in judgment, merely providing an answer to the question he had been asked. “Fashion and aesthetics for witches and wizards are the family business, so I get free samples of our Transfig-Hairation potions pretty much whenever. Still haven’t found one I like yet, though,” he muttered, almost as an afterthought.

“I think it looks fine,” Miki commented politely. “But I do hope you find something you’re happy with soon--”

Miki’s reassurance was interrupted by a bread roll that whipped out of nowhere and struck the back of Makishima’s head. Onoda looked around, startled, wondering who could have done such a thing, but Makishima, in contrast, didn’t look surprised at all. He simply straightened and glanced behind him, huffing out a sigh of annoyance.

“Excuse me,” he said, rising with forced dignity. “I have to go take care of something.”

“Oh, okay,” Onoda said in tandem with Miki, who burst out, “What is it?”

Makishima glanced behind himself again, only this time Onoda noticed a figure in Slytherin green standing at his house table, waving exuberantly in their general direction. A friend of Makishima’s, perhaps?

“An annoyance,” Makishima said through gritted teeth. “I’ll handle it.”

“Ah--alright then?” Onoda replied, but Makishima had already left.

Miki turned her attention back to her plate, resuming cutting her meat as if nothing had happened. “It seems like we’re going to have interesting housemates,” she said. “I’m glad. I think it’ll be fun to be on a team with people like Yuusuke.”

“So you think you’ll definitely get on the Quidditch team next year?” Onoda asked curiously. He was amazed that someone could have that much confidence in their own abilities.

She nodded. “Yes, definitely! After all, I have an entire year to observe the other teams practicing and learn their moves, and even though first years aren’t strictly speaking allowed to own our own brooms I’m sure Toji will let us borrow the school brooms every once in awhile if we can prove we’re responsible enough to be trusted with them. Then there’s the flying lessons, although those are only going to cover the raw basics and won’t really be good for any real training....”

Onoda swallowed, the potatoes in his mouth suddenly tasting like ashes.

Kanzaki had told him that he taught flying lessons-- Onoda had nearly forgotten, but of course he would also be required to attend them. Now that he knew what Kanzaki had meant by “flying,” he realized that it was no longer just a matter of choice as to whether or not he would be getting on a broom. Even if he decided not to play Quidditch ever, he would still be expected to learn to fly.

“... and then there’ll be time to look through Witch Broomstick? to find-- hey, Sakamichi. Are you okay?” Miki asked. “You were looking a bit sick for a second there.”

“O-oh it’s nothing!” Onoda exclaimed. “I just... ate a bit too much I think.”

Miki giggle. “I’m not surprised. It’s probably a good idea to take it easy on the food if you’re not used to it. It’s pretty rich,” she said, as she proceed to take another serving of Yorkshire pudding.

“Yeah,” Onoda said, laughing weakly. “Yeah, you’re probably right.”

After the students were mostly finished with the main course, the leftovers vanished, and a selection of desserts appeared in their place. Like before, everything looked delicious and in any other situation Onoda would be eager to try everything, but now he could barely stomach the thought. He did manage a small portion of rocky road ice cream, however, and was not at all surprised to find that it was the best ice cream he had ever tasted. He made a mental note to try it again sometime when he was in a better state of mind to properly appreciate it.

When the dessert dishes had vanished as well, the prefects of each house got to work, gathering up their housemates to lead them to the dormitories, where their possessions had already been sent while they ate. By this point, Onoda was feeling overwhelmed and exhausted and wanted nothing more than to curl up and sleep for several days, so he was thankful that there was someone to show them the way there and they wouldn’t have to immediately navigate the twists and turns of an unfamiliar castle on their own.

And it turned out there were significant twists involved when it came to finding and entering the Hufflepuff common room.

The entrance to the common room was located in the small corridor that (according to the prefect leading them) was the access point for the Hogwarts kitchens as well. The prefect also took special care in telling them that attempting to find and enter the kitchens in hopes of food was strictly forbidden and would result in punishment for the rule-breaker if they were caught. Onoda thought that a number of his fellow first years looked a bit disappointed at that, but if they were fed as well every night as they had been that evening he failed to see why anyone would need to deliberately go looking for more to eat.

To enter the common room, it turned out that one simply had to approach the stack of barrels that were found midway down the corridor and tap a particular barrel to the rhythm of the words “Helga Hufflepuff.” This on its own didn’t seem too intimidating until Onoda was informed that either tapping the wrong barrel or messing up on the rhythm would result in the unfortunate student being doused in vinegar and locked outside of the common room.

Onoda was beginning to wonder why exactly Hufflepuffs even had the reputation of being “nice.” The booby-trapped barrels did seem a little underhanded for what he had been expecting the general attitude of Hufflepuff House to be.

The common room was nice, though; it was a round, low-ceilinged room filled with comfortable-looking armchairs that were clustered around a neat mantlepiece. Onoda had guessed based on its location in the castle that the Hufflepuff common room was at least partially underground, but there were many small round windows lining the highest part of the walls and he knew that in the daytime the room would be well-lit with natural light. His overall impression was that the room was very nice, and he was surprised to find that it was actually quite well-suited to his tastes. He could even see himself possibly settling into one of the cozy armchairs with a book or some homework somewhere along the line--

--Except that that would involve him having to contend with a potentially very large number of other Hufflepuffs sharing space with him, and he wasn’t sure he was ready to put himself out in the open that much yet, regardless of how welcoming the common room looked.

Although, he thought as he was directed toward a round door that the prefect had told him led to the boys dormitories, it would probably be better for him to overcome that fear as quickly as possible. After all, from now on he would be expected to eat, sleep, and attend classes with his housemates constantly at his side. Privacy was a thing of the past.

The dormitories were also really nice. The beds were four-posters, and they were covered in patchwork quilts and had the same sort of homey, warm look about them as the rest of the Hufflepuff quarters. This was small comfort, however, considering this was not his home and there were literally rows of beds and Onoda had no doubt that they’d all be filled.

At least there were privacy curtains, he thought.

Onoda finally found his own trunk by one of the beds and, without hesitation, loosened the cords that held the curtains open. He climbed into the bed and shut the curtains all the way around him, not caring if this seemed strange to any observers. He lay on his back and he listened to the other boys move around and chatter as they located their trunks and began unpacking their belongings.

Onoda would eventually have to unpack his things too, and then he would have to change into his pajamas and find a place where he could brush his teeth, but he thought it might be better if he waited until a few people had gone to bed before doing all of that. It had been a long day and Onoda had already had to socialize more than he’d probably ever had to in his entire life, and if he had to try to carry out a conversation with one more person he thought that he might scream.

No, it was far better to wait until there was a slightly lower possibility that he’d be talked to by someone, so he would just stay hidden for awhile more.

That’s not to say that the people he had spoken with because there had been no other alternative were unpleasant, though. It was quite the opposite, in fact, so he could at least be pleased about that much. Miki had been very kind, Makishima had seemed cool even if he was a bit intimidating, and Imaizumi had been an unobtrusive sort of person to be around. Onoda had even seen Naruko, although he hadn’t spoken to him.

It was just enough for one day, maybe.

He had enough to worry about, after all. Classes started the next morning and he would need all of his wits about him for that. It would be difficult getting used to magic being a part of everyday life, and it would certainly be even more difficult now that Onoda himself was expected to do magic. Then he also had learning to find his way around the castle to occupy himself, and after that he would eventually have to face the unavoidable flying lessons.

And provided he survived all of those things, he could maybe, maybe considering acting upon the suggestion that Miki had given him.

It might be nice to have Imaizumi as a real friend someday.

Chapter Text

Onoda tried his best in the days following his arrival at Hogwarts to maintain a positive attitude, but the more time passed, the more it became painfully obvious that his career as a wizard was off to an inauspicious start.

He had woken up in the morning the day after the feast and, rather than getting dressed and preparing for breakfast along with the rest of his housemates, had waited until most if not all of them had left the dormitory before he had been willing to take off his pajamas and put on his school robes. He had received a few confused looks and some of the other boys had even appeared to be slightly concerned, asking if he was feeling alright and if they should wait for him instead of leaving. This was of course exactly the opposite of what Onoda wanted, so he had hurriedly assured them that he was fine and that he’d be heading down to the Great Hall as quickly as he could after them.

This had apparently satisfied them, or had at least clued them into the fact that Onoda did not particularly want their company at the moment, because they had all left in short order, allowing Onoda to get ready in privacy. Despite them still being strangers, Onoda had been touched that they had been both welcoming enough to consider him in their plans and perceptive enough to realize that he wanted to be alone. It was a reassuring sign for the rest of the year if they were this easy to get along with from the beginning.

Of course, one unforeseen consequence of his actions was that, once he had left the common room, Onoda realized that he would have to find his way to the Great Hall all by himself. He remembered the general route they had taken to get to the common room the previous night, but he had been feeling tired and overwhelmed at the time and had not made nearly enough of an effort to memorize the various stairways and turns they had taken. The knowledge that the common room was in the castle’s basement helped him a bit because it meant that he would definitely have to go up at some point, but the stairways themselves posed a bit of a problem. The prefect had probably mentioned it the night before, but Onoda had clearly not been listening well enough, or he might’ve been less alarmed when the staircase he was standing on began to move. He had had little choice but to desperately cling to the railings until the motion stopped, and when he tentatively set foot on the stairwell he realized that he was not where he had expected to end up, and that the stairway had apparently changed midway, taking him somewhere he had never been before.

It took him a lot longer than it should have, but Onoda had eventually found his way to the Great Hall after more than a few dead ends and misdirections. He had breathed a sigh of utter relief upon taking scope of his (more) familiar surroundings, and was perhaps slightly proud of himself for making it through the castle and getting to his destination on his own.

He was less proud when he noticed how empty the hall was, the tables mostly empty but for a few stragglers who were either leisurely finishing up their breakfast or hurrying so they could go get ready for their classes. It had apparently taken him longer than he’d thought to find his way here.

Onoda couldn’t have said whether the breakfast at Hogwarts on his first day of school was as good as the feast the night before because he bolted it down so quickly he didn’t even register tasting it. He suspected that it might’ve been toast he was eating, though. Maybe.

After downing his breakfast in record time, Onoda had just enough time to painstakingly attempt to find his way back to the Hufflepuff dormitories through the winding corridors and moving staircases to gather up his books for the day and begin the labourous task of finding all of his classrooms in time forhis first lesson. Thankfully, this process turned out to be slightly easier than he had expected, as in most cases he was able to simply follow his yellow and black-clad yearmates (who were slightly better with directions than him) to the correct classrooms.

At the end of his first week of school, Onoda could proudly say (not that anyone had asked) that he had never been late for a class, although it was debatable if this could be counted as an achievement of his own.

The classes themselves posed something of a problem for Onoda, however. Although Kanzaki had been correct when he assured Onoda that his classmates wouldn’t have been given any prior instruction in magic that Onoda hadn’t had, this did not change the fact that Onoda... was just not good at school. His academic performance had always been stunningly mediocre at best, and it seemed like replacing the mechanical pencils with quills and the protractors with magic wands hadn’t really helped him that much in the long run.

The classes where they were taught practical magic such as Transfiguration (the art of making something into something else) and Charms (basic spellwork) both included large portions of theory and considerably less wand-waving than had been expected, and the notes and diagrams they were required to copy down for the former were particularly detailed and complex. Onoda’s attempts to turn a matchstick into a needle as part of his introduction to Transfiguration class had yielded no result whatsoever, which, while preferable to the matchstick simply burning up while releasing a plume of acrid smoke like a number of other students’ did, was still disheartening.

History of Magic, which had no practical magical component, was a special kind of difficult for Onoda. Out of all of his classes, this one was the most like the kind of classes he’d taken in muggle school. It was just like a normal history course, except that the names he was supposed to memorize were entirely unfamiliar and the dates meant nothing to him. In this class, it was apparent that the students from wizarding households did actually have an advantage, as while they may not have been extensively educated on the topic as they were being now, they had at least heard most of the names and events that were being discussed beforehand and had maybe some idea of their significance. In contrast, Onoda felt completely lost during every lecture, his mind frantically trying (and failing) to fit this new information about the magical world into the history he had been taught since primary school. For this reason, History of Magic quickly came to be his least favourite class.

Potions, like Transfiguration, was also challenging from both a practical and a theoretical perspective. Onoda privately thought that the idea of making magic potions seemed very cool, but the process itself was long, tedious, and at times, gross. They spent their first class working on a “simple” formula that would relieve minor burns, but preparing the potion involved far more crushing of beetle eyes and weighing of bullfrog legs than Onoda was entirely comfortable with, and in addition to the complex process of assembling the ingredients it was also apparently essential to keep a close eye on the cauldron as it boiled, a fact which Onoda learned the hard way.

He hoped that the professor, like him, could at least appreciate the irony of his burn-relief potion catching on fire. Even if he had noticed it, however, it ultimately hadn’t stopped him from giving Onoda a failing grade on the assignment.

Herbology was interesting but also provided a variety of new and interesting threats to Onoda’s personal health and safety in the form of vicious magical plants. When he had been told that some of the plants they would be dealing with would be deadly he had assumed that it was because parts of might be poisonous if consumed, or might cause a rash if they touched exposed skin. What he hadn’t been expecting were the fanged terrors that lunged out from creepers on the greenhouse walls to try to take bites out of the unwary, or the jungle tree that would shoot out viciously sharp needles like projectiles if it was threatened, or the fern spores that, if brushed against, would embed themselves in human flesh and grow there, making themselves almost impossible to remove. Onoda found himself constantly on his guard for whatever floral nightmare might be lurking nearby whenever he was in one of the greenhouses, and, unsurprisingly, his performance in class suffered because of his divided attention.

Onoda enjoyed Astronomy and Defense Against the Dark Arts the most out of any of his classes, although he couldn’t say he was particularly good at either of them. Astronomy was interesting because it reminded him a bit of his science classes from muggle school, but took on a new life when told from a magical perspective. He found the combination of things he had known before with the information he got from the magical world to be fascinating, but the course was complex and taught at midnight, so his attention often wandered and his eyelids drooped despite him still kind of wanting to hear what was being said.

Defense Against the Dark Arts was also one of Onoda’s favourites, but not for a particularly laudable reason. Since this class was about defending oneself with magic against other magic users (who were in some cases evil people), this class was the one that reminded him the most of the sort of thing Kotori was supposed to be learning to do in his favourite comics. He could almost picture her attending Hogwarts and taking this class, mastering powerful magic that she could use to help and protect people, and Onoda thought it would be cool if he were to do the same thing. Onoda was, however, predictably bad at wandwork, so when it came time to practice disarming an opponent his wand managed only a weary spark instead of casting the spell.

So needless to say, his classes weren’t going particularly well.

It might have been more bearable, though, if he’d had someone he could talk to through all of it. Then, maybe, he would be able to laugh about all of his mishaps instead of dwelling on them and feeling bad about them. Miki still went out of her way to greet him every day and she sometimes sat near him at breakfast or in class, but she had her own friends and appeared to experience no difficulty making new ones. Since Hufflepuff shared every class they took with another house, she also often had the chance to sit with someone who Onoda came to recognize as her best friend, a bored-faced girl with short brown hair named Aya, whose blue robe accents marked her out as a Ravenclaw.

A Ravenclaw like Imaizumi, Onoda would inevitably think, unable to keep his mind from drawing the connection each time he saw her.

Despite the fact that they shared classes, Onoda had not once tried to sit with Imaizumi, his gaze inevitably sinking to the floor whenever he spotted him in the Great Hall or in one of their shared classes.

It had taken Onoda until the second day of school to finally work up the courage to talk to Imaizumi like Miki had asked him to. He had spotted the other boy in one of the corridors during a break between classes, apparently in conversation with an older student from his house. When he got closer, however, he saw it was more like the older boy was trying to converse with Imaizumi, and Imaizumi was attempting to leave. He had eventually managed to get around the other boy, who, surprisingly, made no move to follow.

Onoda, however, had followed Imaizumi as he made his way down the corridor.

Imaizumi had looked annoyed at both the previous interaction and when he noticed he was being followed, his brows deeply furrowed and his movements stiff. This should probably have been Onoda’s warning that Imaizumi was not in a mood to be trifled with or “befriended,” but, as usual, he was oblivious about social situations and hadn’t seen the warning signs until it was too late.

Imaizumi had glanced behind him, probably to find out who was following him so closely, and, upon recognizing him, tonelessly uttered, “Onoda.”

Despite this acknowledgement, he had simply continued walking rather than stopping to find out what Onoda actually wanted.

Onoda had vaguely sensed then that the conversation was already off to a bad start, but he (perhaps foolishly) still hoped he’d be able to turn the mood around somehow.

“Um... hi, Imaizumi,” Onoda began. “I’ve been reading the book you lent me and... uh, I was just reading up on some of the different types of broomsticks so I kind of got to wondering what the best type was?”

Imaizumi sighed. Onoda couldn’t see his face so he wasn’t sure if it was a tired sigh or an annoyed one, but he eventually responded with, “It depends to a certain extent on what position you play in Quidditch. Or your personal preference.”

“So... what’s your favourite?” Onoda prompted.

Imaizumi glanced at him this time, suspicion evident in his gaze. “... I suppose I’ve always found the Nimbus line to be the most reliable, and the best balanced in terms of speed, stability, and load-bearing capabilities.”

“Really?” Onoda asked, wishing Imaizumi had been interested enough in the question to elaborate more on the subject. Onoda had been betting in the fact that he would, but now he was left scrambling for a way to continue the conversation. “I was talking to Miki earlier and she seems to think that Nimbuses and... Cleansweeps I think... were about on the same level, except that the Nimbus line hasn’t evolved as much over the years. What do you--”

“You have been talking to Miki, then” Imaizumi interrupted, and this time Onoda was definitely not imagining it-- Imaizumi was annoyed.

“Uh... yeah?” Onoda asked, unsure as to why this was a problem. Weren’t they supposed to be childhood friends?

“I’d be cautious about some of the things she tells you, if I were you,” Imaizumi said stiffly. “She’s something of a meddler, and far cleverer than she likes to showcase. You can’t always trust that what she’s telling you is the whole truth.”

“Oh,” Onoda said, deflating. “I thought... I thought that she was nice.”

Imaizumi grimaced. “She is... nice... I suppose. But that doesn’t mean she isn’t a meddler. She has her own ideas about how things should go, and she’ll pry and maneuver circumstances until they arrange themselves the way she wants them to-- she’s always been like that. She means the best, maybe, but that doesn’t change the fact that you’re being manipulated.”

“Oh,” Onoda repeated, at a loss as to what he could say to that.

Clearly Imaizumi thought that Miki manipulating Onoda was a bad thing, if that was indeed what she had been doing. The thing was, Onoda... didn’t seem to mind it as much as he probably should, if Imaizumi’s reaction was any indication as to how he should be feeling. While it was possible she had reasons for asking Onoda to try befriending Imaizumi beyond what she had told him, Miki had, in the short time he had known her, always gone out of her way to be kind to him. Onoda felt like that counted for something, and he couldn’t help but trust that her heart was at least in the right place.

“Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a class to get to,” Imaizumi said briskly, increasing his gait and leaving Onoda to slow to a halt, aware that he was being deliberately left behind. He was also very much aware of the fact that he had not been given a parting “good-bye” or “talk to you later,” either.

Probably because there wouldn’t be a later, Onoda had realized, his heart sinking. He had no idea how it had happened in what should have been a harmless conversation, but it seemed as though Onoda had just singlehandedly succeeded in destroying any chances he had of actually becoming friends with Imaizumi. Onoda knew that the next time he encountered Imaizumi, they would have none of the ease with which they had spent the train ride in together, and he suspected that it wouldn’t be a stretch to say that Imaizumi wouldn’t want to spend time around him at all anymore.

Even now, a week later, Onoda still couldn’t figure out what about their conversation had bothered the other boy. Imaizumi, for all he had said regarding Miki’s “meddling,” seemed to actually be on pretty good terms with her. Onoda had seen them together in the Great Hall sometimes, Miki talking rapidly at him while he nodded along distractedly, immersed in his copy of The Daily Prophet. He wasn’t exactly enthusiastic about her presence, but he didn’t seem to mind it enough to make her leave, either, which was pretty impressive when compared to the cold disdain with which he treated everyone else.

Onoda remembered how Miki had told him at the feast that Imaizumi had actually seemed to like him, and he felt awful all over again about whatever he had done to betray Imaizumi’s trust in him.

Worrying only about what Imaizumi thought of him was a luxury Onoda could scarcely afford, however. His classes were still difficult, the Hogwarts corridors were still maze-like in their complexity, and a new trial soon appeared in the form of a notice posted inside the Hufflepuff common room which temporarily banished all other worries from his mind.

Flying lessons would be starting within the week.

This announcement had been met with some trepidation from the Hufflepuff first years, but they all seemed to be fairly excited nonetheless. Likewise, the first years from the other three houses had been discussing the same thing at breakfast the next morning, having apparently received similar notices in their own common rooms.

For his part, Onoda felt like the only person in his year whose terror over flying far outweighed any excitement he might have felt. He couldn’t summon any enthusiasm or even fantasies that he might even be good at it to offset the fear that he would either end up embarrassing or injuring himself in front of his classmates.

To make it worse, the first class he would attend would be with the Gryffindors, who had a reputation for being boisterous and brave to a fault. The last thing Onoda needed was to show members of a house that prided itself on risk-taking just how big of a coward he actually was. He didn’t especially want to be made the laughingstock of the whole school a week into the term.

That and Gryffindor was Naruko’s house. Onoda had already resigned himself to the fact that he wasn’t ever going to be able to renew his acquaintanceship with Naruko, but he wasn’t exactly eager to humiliate himself in front of him either.

Sadly, that was probably going to be inevitable.

When classes let out at 3:30 in the afternoon the following Thursday, Onoda and his yearmates made their way down to the school grounds where their flying lessons would be held. In the distance Onoda could see what was likely the Quidditch pitch, which was a large oval field with three hoops on poles at either end. The pitch was ringed with toweringly high stands from which audiences could watch the house teams compete, and Onoda personally thought that he would probably have nearly as much trouble with heights as a Quidditch spectator as he would if he were a player.

The other Hufflepuffs were also pointing and chattering about the Quidditch pitch, wondering which of them would be good enough-- or brave enough-- to try out for their house team in their second year. Onoda, rather than contributing to the discussion, felt a bit like sinking into the ground.

Eventually they came to the area that they had been informed was set aside for them to practice, and they were met by a grinning Kanzaki, who had already arrived and had set out several long rows of broomsticks on the grass.

“So looks like Hufflepuff is the first to get here today,” Kanzaki said, his smile widening as he surveyed the first years. “Not that I’m too surprised-- Gryffindor’s always late, after all. S’all the better for you lot anyways, since it means you get first pick of the brooms.”

This was the first time Onoda had actually seen Kanzaki up close since he had taken him to Diagon Alley, and it suddenly struck him that there would be one more person here whom Onoda would disappoint if he wasn’t able to fly properly.

“I guess I should probably introduce myself,” Kanzaki said. “My name is Toji Kanzaki. I’m the Quidditch coach, flying instructor, and equipment manager here, among other things. I’m not a professor, so you don’t have to address me as one. You are welcome to call me Kanzaki or Mr. Kanzaki if you like--I’m not too picky either way. Now, I’d like to ask all of you to please go stand by one of the broomsticks, and when the Gryffindors show up we’ll begin.”

The Hufflepuffs hurried to comply, scrambling to find the best possible broomstick they could out of the (admittedly unimpressive-looking) selection. Onoda was pretty sure his had more loose twigs sticking out of it than was desirable, but he prayed it wouldn’t make too much of a difference one way or another. Miki didn’t seem to particularly care which broom she picked, after all, selecting one apparently at random. Then again, she was probably good enough at flying already that her confidence was warranted no matter which broom she ended up with.

While they were choosing their brooms, the Gryffindors had finally shown up. They were a lively crowd of scarlet and black, the majority of whom appeared to be having a difficult time staying still--it seemed as though flying lessons had heightened the enthusiasm of their already overenergetic group. They received a similar introduction to the one that had been given to Onoda and his classmates before they were also directed to go and stand beside one of the brooms.

Onoda spotted Naruko at one point (he was one of the ones who couldn’t keep still, unsurprisingly) and like Miki, he didn’t seem too concerned with how knobbly or beat-up looking his broom was. He stood by a random broom, bouncing up and down slightly on the balls of his feet as he waited for the class to begin.

“Alright,” Kanzaki announced after everyone appeared to have found a broom. “If everyone is standing next to a broom now-- no, you can’t have two to a broom, sorry, that kind of defeats the purpose-- I want you all to extend your right arm and say ‘up!’”

Onoda looked dubiously at his broom, put his arm out and shouted “UP!” in as authoritative a voice as he could manage, but all it did was flop around pathetically on the ground.

Onoda wasn’t surprised in the slightest by yet another failure, but when he looked up he was somewhat surprised to see that most people were in the same position as him. There were a number of students whose brooms had barely managed to roll over, like Onoda’s, and some whose brooms didn’t appear to have moved at all.

Of course there were also several people whose brooms had obviously snapped right into their outstretched palms on the first try. Naruko was one of them, and Onoda could see that Miki was another. They looked more than a little bit impatient too, which Onoda had expected of Naruko and was a little bit startled to see from Miki.

It took several more attempts to get the broom to reluctantly hover itself up to his hand’s level (and it he was being completely honest with himself, he reached down a bit to grab it in the end), but soon Onoda and the rest of his classmates were all holding their brooms at the ready.

It wouldn’t be long now.

Onoda’s stomach lurched as Kanzaki opened his mouth to speak once more. “Okay, looks like everyone’s at least holding their brooms now, that’s good... so there’s no need to be worried, we’re going to do this by-the-book. I know some of you have probably flown before, but we’ll be starting off easy today to match with those who haven’t.”

Kanzaki spent the next several minutes showing the first years the proper way to mount the broom and where to position their hands on the handle. Then, finally, when Kanzaki scanned over them one final time he nodded, apparently satisfied. “Looks like we’re all ready to go, then. Any questions so far?”

There were no questions forthcoming, and more of the students were starting to get restless, so Kanzaki continued. “Okay then, I hope everyone is clear on what they’re supposed to do. When I blow my whistle, I want all of you to kick off hard from the ground. Make sure you hold yourself steady, then once your broom’s rising slows I want you to hover for a couple of seconds then lean forward and bring the broom slowly back down to the ground. And I mean slowly. If I see anyone deliberately doing anything other than what I’ve just described to you, you’ll be given a detention. I don’t care how good you think you are, as far as I’m concerned everyone here is a beginner and safety is a priority, okay?”

The assembled first years nodded.

“On my mark then...” Kanzaki said, then blew the whistle.

The first year students all kicked off from the ground in a (more or less) simultaneous motion. Onoda, trying to ignore the shaking of his legs and arms, forced himself to kick off the ground as hard as he could, and when he felt the surface beneath his feet disappear and the slight dropping sensation in his stomach--like he was on a fast elevator heading ‘up’-- he knew at once that this entire thing had been a huge mistake. Opening the letter, buying his supplies, coming to Hogwarts... all of it had been a mistake if it had been leading up to this.

He tried his best to keep the broom steady like Kanzaki had instructed, but for whatever reason-- his trembling or lack of confidence or something else-- Onoda felt incredibly unstable as he rose. The brush-end of the broom had a tendency to dip down lower than it should, and Onoda could feel himself slowly sliding backward. The broom also seemed liable to roll slightly from side to side, which conjured in his mind a terrible image of the broom rolling over completely, taking Onoda with it and dangling him upside-down in midair.

Despite his persistent doubts about the stability of the broom, it wasn’t until he made the mistake of looking down that he experienced true terror for the first time.

The ground seemed awfully far away.

Onoda felt his body go rigid. He was suddenly hyperaware of the fact that he was hovering unassisted in the air, and that the only thing keeping him from falling was a worn old broom with a magic spell on it. Several months ago, he hadn’t even believed his magic, and now he was supposed to trust it with his life?

His heartbeat was pounding in his ears and his breath began coming out in ragged gasps. He was vaguely aware that the rest of his classmates, who had been hovering alongside him, were beginning to descend, but Onoda found himself unable to make the necessary motions to follow. No, following would involve looking at the ground again, and tilting the broomstick, both of which were things that Onoda would certainly not do. What if he went down too fast and crashed? What if he tipped the broom (which already felt far too wobbly) too much and slid off?

Nope, no way, Onoda thought as he screwed his eyes shut. He wasn’t going to risk it.

He gripped the broom tighter in his hands and attempted to hunch in closer to the handle, hoping it would make him feel slightly more secure, but unfortunately, it had the exact opposite effect. As soon as he shifted his body weight forward, Onoda felt the broom, which had at the very least been hovering in one place up until that point, begin to creep forward.

Oh no. No no no no no....

The broom was slowly but surely beginning to pick up speed, and Onoda was convinced that it was all over for him now. He had no idea why the broom had decided to move, why it was speeding up on its own, or what he could do to stop it, but he was pretty sure there was no way he could survive a fall from this height and he wouldn’t be able to hold on forever.

It turned out he didn’t have long to worry about it, because after only a couple of seconds he ran into something.

Onoda panicked at first, afraid that he would be knocked off his broom, but whatever he had struck, while being soft, had very little give to it and had effectively halted his forward motion. Without thinking, he grabbed hold of it, and found his hands grasping something like thick fabric.

He clung to whatever it was that had stopped him for several moments, simply relishing the newfound feeling of stability, before it occurred to him to wonder what exactly he was holding onto. His eyes were still shut, but he forced them open long enough to take in his surroundings.

He realized, upon opening his eyes and realizing that whatever it was he was clinging to was wearing a set of Hogwarts robes, that the thing he had run into had actually been a person.

“D-did I r-un into you?” Onoda stuttered out, numb with the realization that he had just crashed into and grabbed hold of another student. “I must have messed you up! I-I’m sorry--”

“Nope, you’re fine--everyone else has landed already. I just thought you might be having trouble so I came back!”

Onoda moved his face far enough away from the other person, trying to figure out who they were. He couldn’t quite get the right angle to catch a glimpse of their face, but he did notice their hair, and that was enough to confirm their identity.

Onoda was pretty sure there was only one person at Hogwarts with hair that unabashedly red.

“First rule of flying is that leaning forward and gripping the handle tighter makes you speed up, Sakamichi,” Naruko said, and Onoda could practically hear the smile in his voice. “So if you’re nervous, it’s probably better for you to not do what you were just doing.”

“N-Naru...ko?” Onoda asked shakily, not quite able to believe it. He pushed himself away slightly so he could see Naruko’s face better, while still retaining his determined grip on his robles like his life depended on it.

Naruko pouted, readjusting his own grasp on Onoda to be more secure. “I thought I already told you to call me ‘Shoukichi.’ It’s not like we’re strangers here! And while we’re on the subject, didn’t I also tell you to come find me once you got to Hogwarts? You still owe me candy, y’know, and my interest rates can get pretty steep.”

“Uh... sorry, Naru-- I mean, Shoukichi.”

“You should be, I’ve been wondering when you’d show up forever,” Naruko complained.“I never managed to spot you on my own after your sorting, though, since you’re just a speck of a thing and you don’t stand out at all-- we really should work on that by the way-- but that can all wait for the time being. So...” He looked at Onoda speculatively. “... I guess I can start by asking: how did you end up like this?”

“I...” Onoda swallowed, doing his best not to look down. Unfortunately, this required looking at Naruko instead, and Onoda didn’t know if he could bear looking him straight in the face and admitting what was bothering him.

Whether Onoda wanted to say anything or not, Naruko was looking at him expectantly, and since he’d helped Onoda out he probably deserved an answer. “I’m... I think I’m afraid of heights,” Onoda forced out.

A wide smile spread across Naruko’s face, and he made a sound like he was stifling laughter. Onoda felt his face flush with shame, but before he could be properly embarrassed Naruko made a quick dismissive gesture with his free hand. “No, no, that’s fine... I’m not laughing at you, but... wow, way to state the obvious.”

Onoda didn’t entirely see how this counted as not laughing at him, but he didn’t have long to ponder before Naruko continued. “It’s okay, though,” he said. “Lots of people are scared of flying at first. It takes some getting used to, after all-- that’s why Hogwarts makes first years take lessons. The important thing is that you tried it even though you were scared, and next time it’ll be easier.”

Naruko seemed to be waiting for a response, so Onoda attempted a shaky nod, his grip tightening in the other boy’s robes.

“Think you’re ready to try going back down now?” Naruko asked.

“I... I guess?” Onoda stuttered.

“Psh, it’ll be fine,” Naruko said cheerfully. “You’ve got me here to help, after all, and I don’t mean to brag, but I am a pretty damn good flyer.”

Onoda hadn’t been able to see Naruko fly for himself since his eyes had been all-but glued shut at the time, but there appeared to be none of Onoda’s unsteadiness in Naruko’s flying stance. He looked as comfortable perched on a broom floating over open air as he might sitting on a bench in the Great Hall. Onoda didn’t know much about what actual competent broomstick-handling looked like, but he suspected that what Naruko was capable of was very close, if not better than that.

With Naruko’s help, Onoda brought his broom back down to the ground in a gradual, smooth descent. It was downright gentle compared to going up, but the moment Onoda’s feet touched the ground, his legs, which had not stopped shaking the entire time he’d been airborne, voiced their protest by immediately collapsing out from under him. Onoda crumpled to the ground, and, since his hands were still determinedly clenched in Naruko’s robes, he ended up pulling him down with a yelp as well.

Onoda was not entirely conscious of the fact that everything that had happened so far had been viewed by their entire flying class until Kanzaki jogged up, looking concerned, and Onoda registered his classmates eyes all on him and Naruko.

This was... exactly how he had not wanted this lesson to go.

“Onoda, are you alright?” Kanzaki asked, crouching down next them. Onoda noticed that, for the first time ever, Kanzaki hadn’t addressed him by his first name. “Are you hurt anywhere? Why didn’t you come down with the others?”

“Because...” Onoda said, unable to meet Kanzaki’s eyes and see the disappointment there. “I... I got scared. Or something. I’m really sorry, I promise I’ll do better next time!”

Kanzaki put a calming hand on his shoulder. “It’s alright, I’m not about to get angry at you for being afraid about your first time on a broom. I’m sorry, though, if I’d realized sooner that something was wrong I’d have been quicker to come and get you.”

Onoda nodded vaguely, not entirely sure if he was expected to respond, but Kanzaki smiled reassuringly nonetheless. “Do you think you’re up to flying the rest of the lesson, or would you like to take a breather for the day and watch from the ground?”

Onoda, who at this point wouldn’t get back on the broom if his life depended on it, decisively said, “Ground, please.”

Kanzaki nodded, squeezing his shoulder once before moving his hand. He then turned to Naruko, his expression hardening. “And then there’s you. Naruko, was it?”

Naruko had been in the process of dragging himself back to his feet, and turned to look at Kanzaki warily upon hearing his name. “...Yeah,” he said.

“I gave the entire class specific instructions to come straight back down again after kicking off,” Kanzaki said. “What part of that involved immediately kicking off again after you’d gotten back?”

“”Umm... Mr. Kanzaki, I can--” Onoda protested.

“Stay out of this, Onoda,” Kanzaki said sternly, brushing him off.

Naruko scowled. “Sakamichi needed help, though! He was having trouble coming back down, and I knew I could give him a hand, so--”

“It doesn’t matter how good you think you are already, Naruko. You’re still a student in my class and as long as you are, you’ll obey the rules just like everyone else,” Kanzaki continued. “Having a bit more flying experience than your classmates does not justify showing off. Next time you think someone needs help, tell me, and I’ll help them, do you understand me?”

Naruko flushed bright scarlet in a combination of embarrassment and anger, and muttered, “Yes.”

“Alright, then, as long as you understand. For disobeying me, it’ll be five points from Gryffindor--”

“--Hey!”

“--and detention.”

“But that’s--”

“--Starting now,” Kanzaki finished. “You’ll be welcome to return to lessons next week if by then you can convince me that you’ve gained a new appreciation for following the rules. In the meantime, I have a large collection of athletic... let’s call them ‘relics’... that need sorting. I’ll set you up with them in a second.”

Kanzaki spoke up, addressing the rest of the students now. “As for the rest of you, that was an excellent first attempt at a kick off and landing. If I can get you all to settle down and talk quietly amongst yourself for a few minutes while I’m gone, we’ll be able to get started again soon. And if I see anyone in the air when I get back or hear about you flying while I’m gone, you’ll be joining Mr. Naruko in detention, that much I can tell you right now.”

The Gryffindor and Hufflepuff students shifted uneasily, and Naruko’s face twisted in annoyance at the pointed comment.

“Alright, Naruko. Come with me,” Kanzaki said, beckoning.

Naruko stuffed his hands into his pockets grumpily and followed, stomping his feet like a toddler who had been denied the toy they had wanted. Judging by the envious way Naruko looked at the other students who were still standing at the ready with their brooms, this was not an entirely inaccurate comparison. He looked like he’d do almost anything to be flying again.

It wasn’t until they were already a considerable distance away that Onoda realized that he had never even thanked Naruko for helping him.

***

Later that afternoon, Onoda found himself sitting alone outside the supply room off the Quidditch pitch for nearly two hours, twiddling his thumbs as he waited for Naruko’s detention to end.

When Naruko finally emerged from the supply room, he seemed a bit different from the vibrant person Onoda had come to recognize. It could have been just a trick of the light, but he seemed a bit more... deflated than he usually did. He wasn’t smiling and, although it could have just been because he was covered in dust from the supply room, even his red hair seemed a bit duller and less colourful than it had earlier that day.

It was a bit of a jarring sight, and Onoda suddenly wondered if this was really the best idea--trying to meet up with Naruko immediately after he got detention and missed out on flying all because Onoda had messed up. Before he could make the decision to cut his losses and escape, however, Naruko’s gaze fell on him and it was too late.

The redheaded boy’s eyes widened in genuine surprise. “Sakamichi... you waited for me?”

Onoda shifted uncomfortably. “Uh... yeah, I did,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck absentmindedly.

“Flying lessons must’ve ended a long time ago.”

“They did, yeah.”

“Psh, don’t you have better stuff to do than wait around for me, Sakamichi?” Naruko asked, but Onoda could see that a small spark had returned to his eyes. He actually looked pleased that Onoda had waited for him, like Onoda’s consideration was something to be desired. “Don’t you have a social life?”

Onoda smiled a bit, beginning to walk unhurriedly in the direction of the castle, with Naruko barely half a pace behind. “Hehe... no, actually. To either question.”

Naruko laughed, catching up to Onoda in an instant and slinging an arm around his shoulders in a half-hug. Like with Miki at the feast, Onoda suspected that they probably weren’t by most standards close enough for this much physical contact, but was surprised to find that he didn’t entirely mind it, either.

It was maybe even kind of... nice. Maybe this was what having friends was like.

“Well, we’d better work on that then,” Naruko said, grinning. “I think you’re pretty cool, so it’s only a matter of time before we manage to convince everyone else of that too. It’ll be like an extra-credit project in our spare time, only more fun.”

Onoda smiled but didn’t offer any further commentary, not entirely convinced Naruko wasn’t just joking around and unsure of how to respond one way or another. The conversation lapsed after that, and Onoda hurried to start it up again before it became awkward.

“So...” Onoda asked, breaking the silence. “How was it?”

“Hmm?”

“Oh. Detention, I guess?” Onoda corrected himself.

He wondered belatedly if it would bother Naruko to talk about it, but it turned out he needn’t have worried.

“Eh, it wasn’t bad,” Naruko said with a shrug. “I don’t even think Kanzaki was really angry, exactly? And it was kind of cool, too-- they have all sorts of old Quidditch supplies and stuff in the storage room that needed to be cleaned and properly put away. It actually wasn’t too terrible for my first detention here.”

The way Naruko phrased that last statement, it almost sounded like he expected there to be many more. Onoda had to agree with him on his first point though-- he didn’t think Kanzaki had actually been particularly angry at Naruko. It had probably been neccessary to punish Naruko for going against his explicit instructions, but Onoda suspected Kanzaki had actually been happy to see someone take the initiative to help a classmate out. Onoda knew he would be, in Kanzaki’s position, and not just because it was Onoda himself who had needed assistance.

Onoda still didn’t know Kanzaki that well, but he was sure he was a kind person at heart.

“To be honest,” Onoda said, remembering suddenly what he had been intending to say since Naruko had first left for his detention. “One of the reasons I decided to wait for you after practice is because I realized I never got a chance to thank you for looking out for me. That’s twice now you’ve helped me out when I needed it and I really appreciate it, so... thank-you, I guess.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Naruko said dismissively. “Well, I guess if you really want to thank me you could pay me back the candy you owe me sometime, but you can do that whenever and I can wait. But yeah, it’s fine- I have two little brothers at home and they’re always getting into some sort of trouble, so looking after one more person isn’t much different. I’m here if you need me, as corny as that sounds,” he snickered.

Although it was made lightheartedly, Onoda was a bit floored by the offer-- no one had ever said anything like that to him before. “T-thank-you so much, Naruko!”

“Hey, it’s ‘Shoukichi,’ remember?” Naruko said, flicking the side of Onoda’s head. “Whatever, I’m sure we’ll get you to remember it eventually. Hey,” he said suddenly, “do you like Gobstones?”

“...Is that a kind of candy?” Onoda asked dubiously. “I mean, I still owe you for the Licorice Wands, and--”

“No no no, it’s a game. I have my set from home and so far hardly anyone’s been willing to play me at it. Want to learn how?” he asked hopefully.

“Uh, sure?” Onoda said, and Naruko immediately launched into a detailed explanation of the game mechanics that made Onoda’s head spin.

Sometime during the verbal barrage, however, Onoda had the space of mind to realize that this was the sort of activity that friends, or at least people who were maybe almost friends might take part in.

Maybe Naruko was kind of already his friend, and Onoda just hadn’t realized it.

As they continued walking back toward the school, Onoda found himself feeling surprisingly happy. That morning, he had been worried that he’d mess up during his flying lessons and embarrass himself in front of his whole class (which had all ended up happening), but he had never envisioned that, at the end of the day, he’d be actually be grateful that things had turned out the way they did.

Maybe there actually was nowhere left to go but up, he thought.

Chapter Text

Being friends with Naruko was a learning experience for Onoda in many ways.

The first thing he learned was that the reason why ‘hardly anyone’ was willing to play Gobstones with Naruko was because Naruko was apparently some kind of Gobstones prodigy and always won, and won gracelessly.

While that in itself may have been disheartening to Naruko’s prospective opponents, the real reason why this deterred people from playing with him probably had more to do with the fact that the penalty for losing in Gobstones involved the loser being sprayed in a foul-smelling liquid.

After Onoda’s fifth loss, Naruko had (after he had finished laughing at Onoda’s smelly, drenched state) admitted that he played the game with his younger brothers at home a lot, so he might have had a slightly unfair advantage.

Onoda personally thought that was a bit of an understatement, but at least Naruko was happy and they had been given the opportunity to confirm once and for all that Hogwarts laundry service was very reliable.

Since Onoda was a raw beginner when it came to friendship in general, he hadn’t been sure what to expect at first. He found himself initially thrown for a loop in regards to Naruko, since he had always kind of thought that if he ever did fall into a friendship, it would be with someone timid and quiet who probably enjoyed the same sort of things as Onoda did. He had entertained thoughts of them reading the same comics as Onoda, and the two of them going to visit each others’ houses to watch movies together. Just doing the same quiet things Onoda enjoyed, only... together, rather than alone.

At any rate, it was fair to say that Onoda had been anticipating that any friendships he made would be subdued and... restful in nature.

The reality was quite different.

Naruko was not a quiet person, and Onoda didn’t think that he and Naruko actually had much in common at all. Naruko was loud and brash and often spoke without thinking, making quiet moments between them few and far between. He wasn’t particularly interested in comics, either, seemingly unable to sit down and focus on one thing without being distracted by something else or bored by whatever he was doing. Far from being restful and effortless, as he had initially imagined, in some ways being friends with Naruko was actually a lot like work.

Despite their many differences, however, Onoda was amazed at times how easy it was to get along with Naruko. His boundless enthusiasm and thoughtless courage were infectious, and Onoda found himself dreading whatever might be around the corner at Hogwarts less and less. At his very worst, Onoda learned that Naruko could be kind of pushy and abrasive, but he was surprised to find that these less-admirable traits didn’t bother him that much. Onoda tended to be a person who judged people by their intentions rather than what they did, and he could detect no ill-will in Naruko’s often-impulsive actions. He seemed to genuinely like Onoda and appeared to be trying to look out for him, in his own way.

Although there were still some differences between the two of them that proved to be more troublesome than others.

Onoda was rudely awoken from his sleep on Saturday morning a week after his miserable first attempt at riding a broomstick by a hand roughly gripping his shoulder and shaking him into consciousness.

“Wha-- I don’t... huh?” he had mumbled, vaguely annoyed at having been disturbed and more than half asleep as he cracked open an eyelid to glare at whoever was responsible for waking him up.

He hadn’t anticipated that this person would have a much better glare than him, though.

Although Onoda’s uncorrected vision was blurry, he could still make out the distinctive face of the sour-looking boy he had met briefly following his sorting. He was the shifty, sort of scary looking one-- Arakita, Makishima had called him-- and he looked more than a little annoyed.

“A-ah, you’re...” Onoda stuttered, his voice squeaking on the last syllable (to his utter dismay).

Onoda didn’t know what the older boy wanted with him, but he suspected it would not be good. He only barely resisted the urge to pull his covers up over his head and hide until Arakita gave up and went away.

“Hey, are you the first year who’s short and jittery and wears huge glasses?” Arakita asked, looking bored in the most irritated way possible. “There’s a redheaded scrap outside the common room who’s looking for you.”

“I... I, uh... what time is it?” Onoda asked, blindly reaching for his glasses. “I don’t....”

“It’s 6:00 in the morning,” Arakita said. “Get a watch why don’t you?”

“What? Why is it so early... wait, you said there’s someone outside,” Onoda said, his bleary mind struggling to piece together the scenario. “You were already awake? How did you know--”

“That’s my business first year, and you’d best keep your nose out of it if you like having a nose,” Arakita snapped, bristling. “Just go and find out what your little friend wants so he stops making noise on our damn doorstep. It is far to early for me to be dealing with this shit-- I’m going to bed.”

“Did... did he mention what he wanted?”

“Do I look like a bloody owl to you? Go find out yourself.”

“O-okay,” Onoda stuttered in response as Arakita moved away. “Thank you...”

There was no response, and Onoda wasn’t entirely sure whether it was because he’d spoken too softly or because Arakita just hadn’t deemed him to be worth answering.

One way or another, all that mattered was that Onoda was awake now. He might as well find out what exactly he had been woken up for as quickly as possible, or Arakita might get annoyed with him again and come back. And he definitely did not want that to happen.

Inwardly groaning, Onoda slipped out of his blissfully warm covers and was immediately assaulted by the cold morning air on his pajama-clad body. The floor quickly chilled his bare feet despite being covered in thick rugs, and Onoda, despite his happiness at having made a friend and generally benign feelings toward Naruko, decided then and there that Naruko had better have an excellent reason as to why he needed to speak to Onoda at 6:00 in the morning on a Saturday.

Because despite the fact that Arakita hadn’t specifically mentioned a name to Onoda, who else could it be?

Onoda’s suspicion was confirmed when he exited the common room passage and was immediately enveloped into an enthusiastic hug.

“Sakamichi! There you are, I was wondering if I overestimated the reliability of that squinty-eyed guy who went in earlier, but it looks like I was worried over nothing,” Naruko said brightly. “It’s good that I didn’t have to wait around here for too long, though, since we’ve got a lot to do today and we’ve wasted a lot of time as it is.”

Onoda had come to understand fairly quickly that Naruko was a naturally exuberant person, but this behaviour seemed a little bit out of the ordinary, even for him. He was practically glowing with excitement.

“Wait-- what do you mean, we’re wasting time?” Onoda asked, a bit bewildered. “It’s 6:00 in the morning! Everyone’s still asleep!”

“Their loss, then,” Naruko said, shrugging. “Are you ready to go?”

“Go where?”

“Ah... doesn’t look like it,” Naruko said, ignoring Onoda’s question in favour of appraising his his state of dress. “Go back and put on something you wouldn’t feel like an idiot running in. I can wait a few more minutes, I guess.”

“Wait for what?” Onoda asked helplessly, noticing for the first time that Naruko was wearing muggle clothes instead of his usual Hogwarts uniform-- trainers, shorts, and a light jacket. He also had a suspiciously lumpy-looking backpack slung over his shoulders, and although Onoda suspected that its contents might clue him into what Naruko wanted with him, he also believed that the knowledge would probably not particularly fill his heart with joy.

“Chop chop, Sakamichi,” Naruko said, clapping. “We’ll miss the daylight hours if you don’t hurry up!”

Onoda thought that was a bit of an exaggeration considering the sun probably hadn’t even risen yet, but he grudgingly obeyed nonetheless. Once he was back inside the dormitories he changed into sweatpants, an old t-shirt, and a light jumper, stopping only once to glance longingly at his empty bed before leaving to meet with Naruko once again.

The things people do for the sake of friendship.

Onoda’s initial impression of Naruko as being in unusually high spirits that morning appeared to be correct, as Naruko, for all his energy, had never before skipped down the Hogwarts corridors in Onoda’s presence, but he appeared to be doing so today.

Onoda’s suspicion grew even more when Naruko led him outside the castle and onto the Hogwarts grounds.

“You would not believe how long I’ve been looking forward to this for, Sakamichi,” Naruko sighed blissfully after slowing his pace so Onoda could catch up. “It’s been... what, three weeks that we’ve been here for? All that time wasted, and with our luck it’ll probably snow before long. I had been wanting to get as much practice in as possible despite--”

“Naru-- Shoukichi,” Onoda said, perhaps a bit bluntly, but he was getting fed up with not knowing what was going on. “What are you talking about?”

Naruko cocked his head at Onoda inquisitively. “Flying, of course.”

Onoda halted in his tracks, allowing Naruko to get several steps ahead of him before he realized that Onoda was no longer following him.

“Uh... you okay, Sakamichi?” Naruko asked, sounding unsure for the first time that day.

“B-but what-- we can’t!”

“Why not?”

“Well,” Onoda said, his mind racing. “We... we don’t have any brooms!”

Naruko grimaced. “I know, if I’d been allowed to bring my broom from home with me here I would’ve been practicing weeks ago already. But it’s okay-- the school brooms are old and not very fast but they’re better than nothing. We can just use those.”

“B-but we can’t just use them,” Onoda protested, now scrambling for reasons to dissuade Naruko from his plans whilst being painfully aware of the real reason for his hesitation. “Kanzaki locks them away after every practice, and--”

“Sakamichi, we’ve been to two flying lessons now, and it’s a class we’re being marked on,” Naruko explained, as patient as he was capable of being. “Kanzaki knows that people are going to want to practice on their own time. We’re definitely allowed to borrow them-- I asked him at the end of last practice.”

“Are you sure he’ll let you borrow one after what happened the first time?” Onoda asked, aware that it was a bit of a low blow but unable to stop himself.

Naruko only laughed, however. “It’s fine,” he said, grinning at Onoda like he had just said something mildly endearing. “I mean, I was allowed to fly again by our second lesson so I’ve probably been forgiven by now. The one I’d be more worried about is you, Sakamichi.”

“Huh?”

“I mean, I might be bad at following directions, but I’ve also been practicing flying on my own for years now,” Naruko said. “I think it’s more likely that Kanzaki would have a problem with letting you get on a broom without someone to watch and make sure you don’t hurt yourself or... I dunno, float off into the air and never come back.”

“You think so?” Onoda asked hopefully. Maybe there was still a chance--

“So that’s why I’m here!” Naruko exclaimed, throwing an arm over Onoda’s shoulders, and Onoda’s hopes died instantly. “I’ll keep an eye on you, and once you’re able to kick off and land well enough I’ll show you all the things that helped me back when I was learning. Before you know it, you’ll be flying like you were born for it. Problem solved!”

Onoda sighed in defeat, realizing that there was probably very little he could say to dissuade Naruko at this point. “Why does this matter to you so much?” he asked tiredly.

“Well, first off because your performance in our last flying lesson was terrible--”

“Uh....” Onoda said, not entirely sure how to reply to that. It was true, though, so denying it likely wouldn’t help him at all.

“But mostly,” Naruko continued, pursing his lips, “I guess it’s because flying is supposed to be something that’s really fun. Every kid who grows up in a family of witches or wizards is really excited to fly for the first time-- it’s something that you’re supposed to look forward to doing. It’s amazing to be on your first broom and to realize that you can go as far and as fast as you want, and once you’re good enough at it, you can play Quidditch and do all sorts of other neat stuff too. Flying is something that’s special. But every time someone even mentions it you look like you’re about to throw up or crap your pants or both--”

“I-I’m sorry,” Onoda said quietly, shrinking in on himself. Flying was obviously very important to Naruko, and Onoda seemed unable to keep from messing it up for him every chance he got. He’d been the one responsible for Naruko’s dismissal from their first practice, and now he was still desperately trying to find reasons to keep them on the ground just because he was too much of a coward to own up to his own fear.

“Don’t apologize,” Naruko said, waving off Onoda’s worries dismissively. “If you’re scared, you’re scared-- it’s not your fault. I just thought that if you got good enough at flying, or maybe if you realized how fun it can be despite the parts that are scary, then maybe your fear of heights wouldn’t be so bad. I mean, why be worried about falling when you know you can fly?”

That was... actually surprisingly touching, and Onoda would have said so if Naruko hadn’t taken that opportunity to continue with, “...that and it would be really awesome if you got good enough that we could play Quidditch together. I’ve got some moves I came up with over the summer that I’ve been dying to try out on an actual opponent.”

Well, at the very least Onoda was glad he could always trust Naruko to be honest with him.

“So it’s probably going to be at least an hour before Kanzaki comes around with the equipment room keys,” Naruko said, shrugging off his backpack and tossing it down on the ground. They’d gone a fair distance from the main gate of the castle by this point, and Onoda could tell from the way the land sloped suddenly that were somewhere near the eastern shore of the black lake. “I debated just sleeping in, but if we’re going to be getting up early anyways I figured some conditioning wouldn’t hurt.”

“Conditioning?” Onoda asked suspiciously. “Is that... kind of the thing you do in gym class?”

“Yeah, we used to do it back when I was on muggle sports teams, too,” Naruko said, digging into his backpack and pulling out two large water bottles. He handed one to Onoda, saying, “I guess it’s not like you really need conditioning in order to be good at flying, but it improves your focus and stretches out your muscles, so it’s not like it’s a bad thing. And I mean... you’re a twig and I’ve noticed you getting tired from just climbing stairs, so if we can get onto some kind of decent training regimen it can only be good for you.”

It had not taken Onoda long to realize upon meeting Naruko that he was something like one of the “sporty” types that Onoda had seen dominating the athletic clubs in his old school. Although he was no taller than Onoda, Naruko was considerably more physically fit and had mentioned that he had played on baseball and football teams when he had attended school prior to attending Hogwarts (he maintained, however, that Quidditch had always been his true passion). Onoda had been fine with this, and had simply accepted that he and Naruko had different tastes in hobbies.

He hadn’t expected to be roped into these particular interests of Naruko’s, though.

Nonetheless, it was through this series of events that Onoda found himself spending his Saturday morning running circuits up and down hills, doing lunges and push ups and squats and whatever other routine Naruko deemed necessary and above all wishing that he hadn’t left his bed that morning. By the time Naruko deemed their practice “done,” Onoda was exhausted and, to make matters worse, Naruko came out if it looking red-faced but overall barely winded.

“I’ve got to get back in the habit of doing this,” Naruko said, once again delving into his backpack, this time pulling out several stacks of squashed peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. “I’m already way out of practice; it’ll take weeks to get back on track.”

Onoda couldn’t comprehend why Naruko would want to voluntarily put himself through something like that again, and hoped that he would be able to weasel his way out of it next time.

Hoping to distract Naruko from the topic, he asked, “Where did the sandwiches come from?”

“Oh, they’re from the kitchen,” Naruko said, picking up his first sandwich and devouring it in one bite.

“But I thought we weren’t supposed to take food from the kitchen?” Onoda asked hesitantly, remembering the prefect from his first night at Hogwarts warning them about not trying to get food from the kitchen outside of mealtimes. He had though that the same rule applied to everyone.

“Eh, as long as you don’t get caught I doubt it matters,” Naruko said, munching his second sandwich at a more leisurely pace. There was a glob of jelly stuck to his upper lip and Onoda was tempted to mention it, but Naruko licked his lips and the jelly was swept away before Onoda had to. “The kitchens are staffed by house elves and they’re all really friendly and like visitors, so they don’t have a problem with it and they won’t tell on you to the teachers or prefects, either. We’re also not getting extra food, technically, since we won’t be going to breakfast today.”

“We... won’t?”

“Nope, we’re going flying after this, remember?” Naruko said cheerfully. He pushed the bag of sandwiches toward Onoda. “Here, eat up! We’ve been burning up a lot of energy so far and if you don’t hurry, I’ll end up eating them all by myself.”

Onoda gave in and took a sandwich, biting into it as he wondered how Naruko already knew this much about Hogwarts after having only just arrived at the castle for the first time a few weeks ago. At the same time as Onoda, even, who still counted it as a success if he managed to make it from his dormitory to the Great Hall without being waylaid by more than one moving staircase.

Sometimes Onoda couldn’t help but wonder how this friendship could possibly work when Onoda was just so far behind Naruko in practically every way.

***

“You two are here for brooms then, I take it?” Kanzaki said, his mouth twisting wryly with amusement upon opening the equipment room door and seeing Onoda and Naruko waiting for him.

“Yep!” Naruko said boldly, as if he hadn’t just gotten in trouble with Kanzaki barely more than a week ago.

“If it’s alright with you,” Onoda added hastily. “And if you’re not too busy.”

Kanzaki shrugged. “No, it’s fine. I was just in here doing some maintenance on some of our older broom models. I figured I’d have some first years interested in practicing today so I made sure to come in early. I’ve already had a couple stop by today asking for brooms-- you might see them when you’re out there.”

“Tch,” Naruko said, looking annoyed. Onoda suspected that Naruko was one of those people who wanted to be first at everything, and was upset that someone had gotten here before them even if it was meaningless as a competition.

Raising a hand to his mouth, Kanzaki called out behind him, “Miki, can you bring out two Cleansweep Sevens for me?”

Onoda perked up upon hearing Miki’s name, and within the next couple of seconds she appeared from the back of the store, carrying two slightly dusty broomsticks. A wide smile spread across her face when she noticed Onoda standing in the doorway.

“Oh, Sakamichi!” she exclaimed. “I didn’t expect you to be wanting a broom this morning! Or any day, really-- I was under the impression that you weren’t much of a fan of flying?”

“N-no, not a lot,” Onoda admitted shyly. “But I could probably use the practice, though.”

Naruko stifled a laugh.

Miki narrowed her eyes somewhat suspiciously at Naruko, glancing at Onoda to take in his hesitant expression. “You know,” she said kindly, “you don’t have to do this if you don’t want to. The grades you receive in flying don’t have much of an effect on your overall academic standing. If you’d rather limit the time you spend in the air, then--”

“No, it’s okay. I want to get better,” Onoda said, and was surprised to find that the words didn’t entirely taste like a lie. It was true that he was terrified by the idea of flying, but didn’t that mean, since he’d still have to attend flying lessons regardless, that it would be preferable if he somehow learned to stop being afraid of it?

And maybe it was just Naruko’s enthusiasm for flying rubbing off on him again, but Onoda thought that it would be kind of cool to be able to catch up to him in at least one thing.

“Well, if you’re sure,” Miki said, handing a broom to each of them. “Good luck, Sakamichi. Don’t push yourself too hard.”

“I won’t,” Onoda said, his grip feeling awkward on the broom’s handle.

“And be careful,” Kanzaki put in, shooting Naruko a warning glance. “Naruko, if I hear that you’ve been behaving recklessly I’ll have you banned from flying for a month this time.”

“Gah!”

They (or at least Onoda) thanked the Kanzaki siblings and exited the supply room.

“Can’t believe he’s still going on about that,” Naruko muttered after the door had shut behind them, slinging his broomstick over his shoulder. “And I am not reckless. Reckless is for people who don’t know what they’re doing, and I definitely know what I’m doing.”

Onoda nodded along, only half listening as they made their way across the grass in the general direction of the Quidditch pitch. These seemed to be another one of those situations where Naruko did not particularly require a response from Onoda, and to be honest Onoda had too much on his mind to be coming up with one anyways.

Between his ever-present fear of failure and lingering doubts that if he couldn’t keep up it might affect his still-shaky new friendship with Naruko, Onoda happened to notice that there was already someone standing on the Quidditch pitch. According to Naruko, the pitch wasn’t booked for Quidditch practice for another hour or two (apparently the older students liked to sleep in, and Onoda had been momentarily overcome with envy), so he was curious as to who it might be.

“Oh, it looks like one of theres someone already there,” Onoda said to Naruko, pointing. “Maybe it’s one of the other first years that Kanzaki told us about? I wonder who it....”

Onoda trailed off as the person he’d been indicating heard his voice and turned to see who had spoken. He realized that he recognized this person, with his perfect posture, lanky arms and legs and slightly-overgrown hair.

It was Imaizumi.

Under different circumstances Onoda might have been happy to see Imaizumi, even if Imaizumi had made it perfectly clear that he no longer wanted to see Onoda. He had still hoped that maybe their strained final conversation in the hallway had just been a misunderstanding, and that in time it would blow over. As it was, though, Onoda knew that Imaizumi was yet another person who took flying and Quidditch very seriously, and that seeing Onoda make a mockery of something so important to him would probably not score him any points on the friendship scale.

He knew Imaizumi had been avoiding him but he didn’t think he could stand it if he started looking at Onoda like he did at the people who went out of their way to annoy him.

Onoda swallowed, and failed to resist the urge to fall into step behind Naruko, as if that could hide him from Imaizumi’s piercing stare.

Imaizumi frowned, staring past Naruko, who came to a halt in front of him.

“Onoda,” Imaizumi said, and Onoda thought he sounded like he might be a bit surprised.

He peeked out from behind Naruko to confirm it and, upon being pinned by Imaizumi’s intent gaze, ducked back behind him.

“H-hi, Imaizumi,” Onoda said, trying his best to sound casual despite the fact that he was essentially--and conspicuously--hiding from the other boy. “H-how are you today? Out practicing I guess...?”

“What are you doing here?” Imaizumi asked, but it wasn’t as accusing as Onoda had been afraid of. He sounded more curious than anything, which made Onoda relax slightly. Maybe Imaizumi wasn’t actually as mad at Onoda as he had thought?

That thought gave Onoda the confidence to step out from behind Naruko once again, and he was relieved to see that Imaizumi didn’t seem to be mad at all-- in fact, he maybe looked interested in a way Onoda hadn’t seen in awhile. His eyes were narrowed calculatingly, but not particularly suspiciously, in Onoda’s direction.

Just as he was opening his mouth to respond, however, he was beaten to the punch.

“What does it look like, huh? We’re here to practice, you got a problem with that?”

Onoda flinched at the challenging tone, mentally berating himself for forgetting that he and Imaizumi weren’t the only two people here. Of course Naruko was annoyed that Onoda had been using him as a shield and talking over his head (figuratively, of course). Realizing belatedly that he should probably introduce Naruko to Imaizumi-- that was only polite, after all-- Onoda prepared to address them, but by the time he had thought of it it was already too late.

“Of course I don’t have a problem with it,” Imaizumi said flatly, his eyes narrowing into a true glare as he took in Naruko’s unkempt appearance and his muggle clothes, his eyes lingering especially on his red hair. “Not with Onoda, at any rate. The Quidditch pitch is free for anyone to use-- even if they are loudmouths from families of traitors.”

That was... not exactly the reaction Onoda had been hoping for.

Naruko stiffened. “Care to repeat that, Imaizumi?” he asked, the name rolling off his tongue dangerously. “What was that about my family?”

“Do you think I don’t notice?” Imaizumi asked, mouth twisting in a sneer. “I watched the sorting ceremony. Even if you weren’t obviously a Naruko going by appearance--and temperament--then there’s no way I would have missed your name when you were sorted. You won’t be able hide that sort of reputation here for long.”

“What the hell gives you the idea I’m hiding anything?” Naruko snarled. “And while we’re on the topic of families and reputations why don’t we discuss yours?”

Imaizumi’s face closed off. “How dare you,” he said, fury contained in every word. “I don’t need to--”

“Don’t think I don’t know all about the venerable pureblooded Imaizumi family,” Naruko taunted. “They say you haven’t changed in over a hundred years. Magic is might, huh? Hunted down any muggles lately for sport, Imaizumi?”

“You don’t know anything,” Imaizumi snapped. “If your lot had their way, your muggles would be the ones exterminating us!”

The situation had already far exceeded Onoda’s worst expectations for how this particular meeting might go, but the argument continued rapid-fire, and he found himself unable to find an opportunity to step in.

“Your father tried to get my mother sent to Azkaban!” Naruko shouted, any pretense of control vanishing in the face of his anger.

“Your mother deserves to be in Azkaban,” Imaizumi said through clenched teeth. “She’s a troublemaker and a rabble-rouser who cares more about making noise and getting attention than she does about the safety and stability of the wizarding world. And I can already tell that you’re going to be exactly the same.”

“Oh? I take that as a compliment, since for you safety and stability seems to mean that you get to keep on living the life of a rich, entitled brat at the expense of everyone else!”

“Don’t pretend you know anything about my family or about me!” Imaizumi hissed. “And I’d watch who I call a brat if I were you. I’m not the one who’s whining like a child and looks like the unholy offspring of a leprechaun and a particularly stunted knarl. Although compared to your real parents I’d say that’s slightly more respectable--”

Naruko bristled like an angered cat. “I already told you, you do not get to talk about my parents that way, you bastard. And you’re not so great yourself! You look like something that grew up in a well-- all spindly and pale and squinty-eyed. Considering what I’ve heard of pureblood families though, I wouldn’t be surprised if--”

“As if you’d understand anything about it--”

“Kakaka, so it’s true?”

“What? No!”

“Uh, guys...” Onoda said hesitantly, hoping to catch their attention. Unfortunately, they appeared to be far too involved in their argument to hear him, let alone be willing to pay attention.

“You are by far the most spiteful little beast I’ve ever met,” Imaizumi snarled, his face the most expressive-- and alarming-- Onoda had ever seen it. “Also your hair is stupid and your teeth look ridiculous and I have no idea how you even talk around them!”

“Well, you’re a smug prick with a face like someone smeared shit under your nose and you’re stuck smelling it every day of your life--”

“Guys!” Onoda shouted, unable to contain his exasperation any longer.

Imaizumi and Naruko broke off their exchange, turning to look at Onoda with surprise, like they had forgotten he was there.

Which, realistically, they probably had.

“Okay,” Onoda said, taking a deep breath as he chose his words carefully, suddenly feeling awkward again now that it was quiet and the attention was back on him. “Okay, I know we all got off to... a bad start here, but--”

“We wouldn’t have if he hadn’t been so quick to pick a fight,” Imaizumi muttered.

“We wouldn’t have if he wasn’t a tool,” Naruko snarked back.

“Guys, Onoda repeated, holding onto the last of his patience the best he could. “Imaizumi, Naru-- Shoukichi. I can tell that there’s probably some... bad blood between your families...” Onoda said, as diplomatically as he was able, and Imaizumi and Naruko both glared at each other. He hurried to continue, “But none of that really matters here, does it? I mean, we’re at Hogwarts now, and none of our families are here... I mean, I’m a muggle born, and Na--Shoukichi has a witch mother and a muggle father and Imaizumi is a... pureblood?” Onoda said hesitantly, and regretted it immediately when Imaizumi visibly winced. “But we’re all witches and wizards at Hogwarts and we’re all here to accomplish the same things so can’t we just get along?”

Onoda glanced between Imaizumi and Naruko hopefully, wondering if anything he’d said managed to strike a chord with them. They looked like they had calmed down slightly, which was a good sign, but they were still exchanging wary glances, and Onoda was forced to conclude that his speech hadn’t actually done that much good.

“Come on,” Onoda all but begged. “Look, we came out here for the same reason, right? We all wanted to practice our flying so--”

The mention of flying accomplished what nothing else so far had-- Imaizumi and Naruko both glanced up, interested.

“Y’know what, come to think of it, Sakamichi’s right,” Naruko said slowly, shifting the broom handle in his grip experimentally, as if he had just remembered it was there. “I did come out here today hoping for a good flight.”

“Interesting. So did I,” Imaizumi responded, and Onoda could tell he was also suddenly more aware of the broom in his grasp.

“I wonder if your broomhandling is half as lame as your insults,” Naruko said, a very unfriendly smile spreading across his face.

“Maybe I’ll just have to see if you’re as much a disgrace in the air as you are on the ground...”

Onoda suddenly got the feeling that, despite the lack of shouting, the situation had apparently not improved at all.

“Let’s have a race!” Imaizumi and Naruko said in unison, before their faces fell in horror upon realizing that they’d managed to channel the same though by accident.

“Whatever,” Imaizumi said, the quickest to shake it off. “It was my idea first.”

“HAH, yeah right-- I was at least a syllable ahead of you. This is my idea,” Naruko said. “I was just going to say, we can start from the Quidditch pitch then head toward the Groundskeeper’s cottage--”

“--out to the edge of the Forbidden Forest, around the castle grounds and across the lake,” Imaizumi confirmed. “The first one back here wins.”

“Fine with me.”

“Fine. Don’t cry foul when you lose, then.”

“Pffft, as if I would lose. You’d better watch yourself, hotshot.”

“Imaizumi!” Onoda exclaimed, determined to make one last effort to solve this peacefully. “If Kanzaki catches you racing all over the grounds don’t you think you’ll get in trouble? And Shoukichi, you were only just given permission to fly again--what if you get banned from it for longer this time?”

“Hmm...” Naruko said thoughtfully, stopping just short of mounting his broom. “You know what? I think it’s worth the risk to show this stuck-up rich boy just who he’s messing with,” he said after a pause, a wild grin on his face. “Don’t worry, it’ll only take me a few minutes to pulverize him even on a broom this slow, and when I get back I’ll help you out with your flying, yeah?”

He said it as if it was the most reasonable thing in the world, but Onoda was far from reassured.

“Okay, but--”

“Hey, Sakamichi, could you tell us when to start?” Naruko asked eagerly.

“I... er,” Onoda said, desperately trying to think of some other reason why they wouldn’t be able to go through with their race. Despite his efforts he didn’t find it, and if he was being completely honest he doubted a better reason would convince them anyways. “...Fine,” he conceded, mentally throwing in the towel.

If they wanted to race that badly, then it was clear he was powerless to stop them. Maybe it would even help them work off some of their aggression.

He just hoped they didn’t hurt themselves too badly in the process.

“Thank-you, Onoda,” Imaizumi said, addressing him unexpectedly.

“Yeah, thanks!” Naruko said happily, then turned to Imaizumi, beaming viciously. “And now for you-- I hope you’re ready to chase me!”

Imaizumi raised an eyebrow disdainfully. “In your sad little dreams, maybe.”

“Come on, Onoda!” Naruko complained. “Say the word-- I want to put this hotshot in his place!”

“O-okay,” Onoda said, mentally cursing his inability to say no one last time. “ On your marks... get set....”

He really hoped that this wouldn’t end in tears.

“...Go!”

Onoda had had a vague sort of knowledge beforehand that Naruko was a good flier despite having only seen him fly in Kanzaki’s lessons, which were still relatively simple and required very little real skill to complete. He had never seen Imaizumi on a broom either, although he knew that Imaizumi had previous experiences with flying from their conversation on the Hogwarts Express.

Still, none of that prepared Onoda for just how fast they both were once they were in the air. One second, they had still been on the ground, brooms held at the ready, but the moment the word “go,” passed Onoda’s lips, they were both kicking off the ground and shooting away in the direction of the Forbidden Forest, leaving only a brief echo of Naruko’s distinctive laughter in their wake.

Once they were out of sight, Onoda sat heavily down on the grass of the Quidditch pitch, preparing to wait for them for however long it took them to get back.

After watching his two classmates shrink further and further into the distance, Onoda was made painfully aware of how inadequate his own abilities were in comparison. While he had known on a rational level that he was pretty far behind most of his classmates in terms of skill when it came to flying--and had known that Imaizumi and Naruko were likely considerably better than average--he hadn’t seen it firsthand until just now. When Imaizumi and Naruko kicked off, there was no split second of hesitation before they launched themselves into the air, and no awkward floundering as the broom slowed its sharp ascent and prepared to propel itself forward. Their motions had been smooth, confident, and contained-- when they flew, there was nothing awkward about it at all. It looked cool, it looked exciting, and Onoda thought that he could see the appeal of watching Quidditch matches just to appreciate the level of skill involved in flying like that. It was incredible.

Onoda frowned, bringing his knees up to his chest. How his own ungainly, miserable attempts at flying must have looked to someone like Naruko, he thought uncomfortably. Naruko with his precise broomstick handling and apparently flawless acceleration had seen Onoda’s pathetic first attempts to kick off the ground, and in one case had even had rescue him from a stationary broomstick. Although the kickoffs themselves became slightly easier with practice and Onoda could almost manage it now without freezing up, he had a long way to go before he was even marginally decent at it, let alone as good as Imaizumi or Naruko.

In fact, even if Onoda practiced every day for the rest of his life, he doubted he would ever be that good. He had thought that he might be able to catch up to Naruko in flying? Yeah, right-- that was something that was never going to happen in his lifetime.

But was that okay? There was no rule that said that Onoda had to be a perfect flyer-- Miki had even said that their grades in flying didn’t count very much toward their final marks, and once he was out of his first year, there would be no more flying lessons, either. In fact, Onoda would never have to get on a broom ever again if he didn’t want to. It wasn’t such a big deal, as long as he got through this year in one piece.

Although, he thought, his stomach knotting with worry, Naruko was already really set on helping Onoda become a better flyer. Both Naruko and Imaizumi were not only good at flying, but had also already decided that they wanted to play Quidditch once they were old enough to join their house teams. It was obvious that their interests revolved around these two things-- flying and Quidditch-- and left them little room to think about anything else.

The nagging worries that had been bothering Onoda for the entire morning finally came to the forefront of his mind, and there was nothing he could do to turn them away.

If Onoda proved a disappointment at flying, and was by extension unable to learn to play Quidditch with them, why exactly would Imaizumi or Naruko bother spending time with Onoda? Wouldn’t they naturally gravitate towards other people, who shared their interests and inspired them to do better?

The thing was, Onoda wouldn’t blame them if that happened, either. It couldn’t be much fun, spending time around someone who didn’t understand your passions, who maybe treated things you loved like a chore and couldn’t ever keep up with you. Sooner or later, even Naruko would get bored of Onoda’s wimpy, halfhearted attempts to fly and would give up trying to teach him.

Then he’d go off and find a new friend to play Gobstones with, and that would be the end of that.

Onoda probably would have continued to sit there, consumed with worry for far longer, except that he was startled out of these thoughts when something small bounced off his head just above his ear.

Straightening up, Onoda looked around, attempting to locate whatever it was that he had felt strike him. It didn’t take him long to find the culprit, a small, brightly coloured scrap of something lying innocently in the grass next to him.

Reaching over, Onoda cautiously picked the bright thing up, and found that it was a tiny paper airplane made out of what looked like a candy wrapper. Onoda unfolded the paper and smoothed it out so he could see it better, wondering idly where it came from. The wrapper was mainly composed of overlapping circles of gold and pink and had the words “Fizzing Whizbee” printed on it in excited-looking lettering. Onoda didn’t know what a “Fizzing Whizbee” was but he suspected that it was some kind of wizard candy that had very little in common with a licorice wand, which was still the only experience he had ever had with wizard candy.

He turned the wrapper over and blinked in surprise. There was writing on this side as well, only instead of the logo and the name of the candy, this looked like it had been added in afterward, and by someone with very messy handwriting at that. It took several moments of squinting to decipher what it said, but he finally managed to make out what it said.

Who do you think will win?

Onoda looked around again suspiciously. Was he just being paranoid, or was someone actually sending messages to him? Was the writer of the note referring to Imaizumi and Naruko’s race, and if so, where were they? As far as Onoda could see, he was still alone on the deserted Quidditch pitch.

While he was quietly freaking out, a second airplane hit him on the forehead, and he opened this one to see a new message in the same messy handwriting.

I think it’ll be the tall, angry-looking one. He seems to have slightly better control.

Onoda was convinced now that the sender of the notes was trying to talk to him, but he still couldn’t figure out which direction it had come from. They had to be nearby, close enough to be getting the notes to him--maybe by magic? It would probably be a simple matter to guide such a small, light object to a chosen destination with a wand, but that meant that they had to be able to see where it was going, too.

“... like you just couldn’t handle the fact that I was beating you...”

“... ridiculous, you were all over the place before...”

Upon hearing the faint sound of voices in the distance that were gradually getting louder the longer he listened, Onoda took a break from his attempts to locate the message sender and realized that he could see two dark shapes in the sky coming in his direction. It could only be Imaizumi and Naruko, on the way to finishing their race and determining which one of them was truly the better flyer. Apparently more time had passed than he had thought.

Except...

Even from the still considerable distance, Onoda could tell that they weren’t going anywhere near as fast as they had been at the beginning of the race. Also, they appeared to be putting far more effort into arguing--and arguing loudly than they were into actually trying to pass each other and reach the Quidditch pitch first. This was a slightly unexpected development, but Onoda had yet to determine whether it was a good one or a bad one.

When Imaizumi and Naruko touched down, Onoda hurried over to meet them.

“Oh... so I guess it’s a tie, then?” Onoda half-asked as he approached, taking in the state of his classmates as they righted themselves on the ground and dismounted their brooms. They were both disheveled and annoyed-looking, and appeared to be... soaking wet?

“Uh,” Onoda said, momentarily at a loss for what to say. “What... exactly happened out there?”

“Well,” Naruko said, flipping his sopping red fringe out of his eyes. “I’ll tell you what happened. Turns out hotshot here is a fucking maniac who has dangerous impulses and shouldn’t be allowed off the ground. Ever.”

“Oh, please,” Imaizumi snapped, viciously wringing water out of his sleeve like it had personally wronged him by daring to be wet. “Stop blaming me for your inability to stay on a broom while it’s in motion. Admit your own faults and do better.”

“Says the one who tried to knock me off my broom!”

“It’s called jousting for position,” Imaizumi muttered angrily, but Onoda could have sworn he saw his ears redden a little.

“You knocked me into the lake,” Naruko said angrily.

“And you dragged me with you!” Imaizumi shouted, quickly regaining his bearings and pointing accusingly at Naruko. “You started losing your balance and the first fucking thing you did was grab onto my robes and pull me in as well! What the hell?”

Despite the undoubtedly tremendous effort he was putting into maintaining it, the stony glare on Naruko’s face began to crack a little around the edges and a snicker escaped.

“IT’S NOT FUNNY!” Imaizumi yelled.

“You should have seen your face,” Naruko crowed. “it was like the perfect ‘oh shit, I’ve made a terrible mistake’ moment. I think my theory about you being raised in a well was spot-on though-- you’re quite the swimmer when you put your mind to it--”

“You should have drowned,” Imaizumi bit out, looking very much like he sincerely meant it.

Naruko smirked. “Yeah, you wish. That’s one way to get rid of the competition... how very pureblood of you, Imaizumi, I’m very impressed.”

“You--”

“Okay,” Onoda interrupted, stepping between them before their animosity could escalate any further. “You had your race, and I think it’s fair to say it was a tie, right?”

Imaizumi and Naruko glanced dubiously at each other.

“Well...” Naruko said, looking pained.

“I’m not entirely sure if that... counted....” Imaizumi muttered.

“Well, for now, you guys got to have your race,” Onoda said, trying to keep his voice as reasonable sounding as possible. “Neither of you... died, you didn’t lose your broomsticks, and Kanzaki didn’t see anything... I think? Don’t you think it’s better to just call it a tie for now? I mean, you two are both soaking wet, and I don’t know any spells for drying people off yet, so maybe we should just... take a break so you two can at least get changed into something drier?”

Imaizumi and Naruko’s eyes each flicked to the other again, before they both turned to Onoda.

Finally, Imaizumi nodded. “Alright, I agree with Onoda. Let’s call a truce for the time being.”

“Idiot, don’t think you can just pretend to be the reasonable one now,” Naruko said, a challenging note still remaining in his voice. “But yeah, you’re right, Sakamichi!” he continued brightly, turning his attention back to Onoda. “Let me get out of these wet things first, and then I’ll come back out and help you work on your kickoffs like I promised.”

“Oh... yeah, thanks,” Onoda said, his stomach dropping as his worries from earlier returned full-force. “That would be... really great.”

Some of his hesitance must have shown through, because Naruko’s expression instantly shifted to one of concern. “Hey, are you okay, Sakamichi? You don’t look too lively-- are you sick?”

Naruko’s face was suddenly way too close to his, and Onoda felt one of his (cold, from his dip in the lake) hands on his forehead, apparently checking to see if he was feverish. Unable to meet his eyes, Onoda glanced over Naruko’s shoulder, and to his surprise saw Imaizumi standing off to the side, clearly keeping his distance but also looking at him with some measure of concern.

Onoda felt awful. Now he was making them worry about him unnecessarily, acting like he was actually ill when really he was just afraid-- just knew-- that he was eventually going to end up disappointing them. That it would only be a matter of time before they both left him for a better friend.

“Damn it, my body temperature is way too screwed up right now to tell if you have a fever or not,” Naruko complained eventually, his hand dropping as he took a step back, allowing Onoda room to breathe once again. “Maybe we shouldn’t risk it though. If you’re feeling sick then the last thing we need is you to be emptying your stomach in midair-- that’s never pretty. Want to call it quits for the day just in case?”

Feeling incredibly guilty, Onoda felt himself nod. “I’m sorry,” he said, feeling so awful about his implicit lie that he might as well be sick. “I know you put a lot of thought into this, and got up early, and--”

“It’s okay,” Naruko said, clapping his shoulder a bit more gently than he would normally. “There’s always tomorrow, and next week, and the week after.”

“For once, I would agree with the leprechaun,” Imaizumi said, coming to stand next to Onoda. Apparently he had resolved whatever lingering issues he had had with Onoda from before, because this the closest that Imaizumi had been willing to be to him since they had first arrived at Hogwarts. “You won’t be able to perform your best anyway if you’re not feeling well,” Imaizumi continued. “It’s better to wait now and then pick it up again later once you’re well again.”

They were both really kind, and Onoda didn’t deserve them at all.

“We should probably return our brooms to Kanzaki before going back up to the castle, huh?” Naruko said. “I really hope he doesn’t ask why they’re all wet.”

“W-wait,” Onoda said quickly. “Just because I’m not flying doesn’t mean you can’t. I know you’ve been looking forward to it, and you still have time--”

“Nah, there’ll be other chances to fly and it would be mean to leave you alone when you’re sick,” Naruko grinned. “Besides,” he said, hefting his broom over his shoulder and managing to accidentally swat Imaizumi upside the head in the process, “it wouldn’t be as much fun without you there, anyways. So let’s go back.”

They were so perfectly reassuring and understanding and every bit of it only made Onoda feel worse.

“I might as well finish here as well, then, I have other things I should be working on today as well,” Imaizumi, said rubbing his head and glowering at Naruko. “If you’d like, though, Onoda, I have a decent instruction manual for beginner flyers that might help you in the meantime. Looking at the diagrams and learning proper posture might make it easier the next time you do have to have to fly.”

“Hey, don’t just invite yourself along!” Naruko complained. “Sakamichi, tell him he’s not allowed to come!”

“Well... I don’t have a problem with it,” Onoda said, ignoring Naruko’s protests and glancing nervously at Imaizumi’s once-again impassive face. “If you’re really sure you don’t want to stay and practice...?”

“It’s fine,” Imaizumi said briskly. “It’s still the beginning of the season, and I need to get changed out of these clothes. By the time I would be ready to start again it would be late enough in the day that I should be starting the next item on my schedule anyways.”

“On his schedule-- Sakamichi, are you hearing this guy? Are you secretly an android, hotshot? Do you only replicate human emotions? Can you act as an internet hub? Please tell me it’s true, especially for that last one. My devices haven’t worked properly since we got here.”

Imaizumi was staring at Naruko blankly with a look that said he was angry but that he also only understood about half of what he had just said, and Onoda hurried to intervene.

“Okay, thanks,” Onoda said to Imaizumi. “I’d appreciate the help... if it’s no extra trouble to you, of course.”

“It’s not,” Imaizumi said. “It’s good to have access to a variety of materials when you’re learning, so you’re not stuck learning only from one--potentially incompetent-- teacher.”

“HEY!”

Imaizumi and Naruko resumed their bickering once again as they gathered their belongings and left the Quidditch pitch, this time on the topic of what excuse they should provide Kanzaki with to explain the waterlogged state of themselves and the brooms they had borrowed. Onoda filtered out most of it, not having anything to contribute on the subject and feeling too worn-out to intervene in one of their arguments again. He guessed that, in a strange way, they were maybe even getting along well?

He would be glad about that, except that he still felt too bad about making them think he was sick to feel positive about much of anything.

He wasn’t sure just what compelled him to look back at the Quidditch pitch, but when he did, it took him several seconds to comprehend exactly what it was that he was seeing.

Was there someone sitting on one top of one of the Quidditch goalposts?

Onoda squinted, but it was too far away to make out anything for sure. He could be seeing things, but it looked like there actually was a person perched precariously on one of the rings that you were supposed to throw a ball through in Quidditch. They were really high up, and Onoda was halfway convinced his mind was actually just messing with him, because who would be comfortable in such a position? Who would possibly enjoy being so far above the ground with nothing to catch them if they were to fall?

But Onoda couldn’t help thinking about the possibility anyways.

Someone had been sending him the candy-wrapper notes, and for all his searching Onoda hadn’t managed to find out where the sender was, although he had suspected that they were close. It was funny, but for all his wondering, and the constant reminders of flying, it had never once occurred to him to look up.

So if that were true, it was very likely that whoever it was had been there, watching him, all along.

That was... actually pretty creepy, and Onoda couldn’t suppress the shudder that traveled the length of spine at the thought.

“Uh oh, are you feeling chilled now?” Naruko asked, apparently having a sixth sense for Onoda’s discomfort that outweighed even his desire to lock horns with Imaizumi. It succeeded in distracting Onoda from his thoughts, however, and he turned back to his two companions.

“Do you want my jacket?” Naruko continued when Onoda didn’t answer quickly enough for his liking. “It’s in my bag from earlier so it’s not even wet.”

“Um, no, it’s alright,” Onoda insisted. “I’m fine, really.”

Naruko shrugged and seemed happy enough to resume insulting Imaizumi at Onoda’s assurances that he was alright, but Imaizumi watched Onoda a bit longer, his eyes narrowed slightly. He obviously suspected something was up.

Onoda would probably do well to remember that not everyone was as easily fooled as Naruko was.

Onoda certainly had his work cut out for him as it was, though. If he wanted to have Imaizumi and Naruko as friends, his only option was to become the sort of person they could be friends with. That meant that, no matter what, he had to overcome his fear of flying. Even if he needed to put in extra hours, even if he had to practice alone every chance he got, he would do it. And now that Imaizumi was talking to him again, he would also have to figure out what he had done to chase him off the first time and try to avoid doing it again.

Having friends was going to be a lot more hard work than he had ever dreamed, but when he looked at Imaizumi and Naruko, he couldn’t help but think that it might all be worth it in the end.

Chapter Text

Once they were back in the castle, Onoda, Imaizumi, and Naruko parted ways so that they could each go back to their respective dormitories to get changed, although the break from each other’s company was to be only temporary. Imaizumi had mentioned in passing that he had been planning to work on his essay on effective Potion-brewing techniques that day and Onoda, realizing that he hadn’t started his yet and that most of what they had been talking about in class had flown way over his head anyway, had taken the opportunity to tentatively ask Imaizumi if he had understood the lesson.

Onoda had been nowhere near daring enough to come right out and ask Imaizumi for his help, though. He wasn’t sure what kind of student Imaizumi was, but he seemed to have the answers whenever he was asked to speak up in the classes he and Onoda shared, he was from a house that generally prided itself on intellect, and also had the advantage of being from an all-wizard family. It was a pretty safe bet he was at least smarter than Onoda, but Onoda was also afraid that his asking for help might come across as slightly... presumptuous, given the circumstances. After all, Imaizumi had only just started talking to him again (for reasons unknown), and he was slightly worried that asking Imaizumi for assistance might make it seem like he only wanted him around as long as he proved himself useful.

The thought of chasing Imaizumi away again so soon did not sit well with him at all. He would have to be more careful this time around.

It turned out he needn’t have worried, however, because Imaizumi had simply looked at him and said in a surprisingly uncertain voice, “If you... need help with your essay, maybe I can meet with you in the Great Hall to work on it?”

Onoda hoped his eyes didn’t bulge comically out of his head quite as much as it felt like they did as he hurried to stutter out a reply. “Really? That’d be great-- thanks!”

“Yeah, really?” Naruko asked, grinning as he shuffled past them in what was presumably the direction of his house common room, making sure to knock into Imaizumi’s arm as he went by. “Awesome, I haven’t started mine yet. So sweet of you to offer up the great depths of your knowledge, hotshot.”

Imaizumi’s cautiously open expression immediately shut down. “Not you,” he said. “You’re not invited.”

“You’re meeting in a public place, dumbass. Try to stop me,” Naruko had shot back acidly, hefting his backpack over his shoulder. When he turned to address Onoda, though, his entire aura changed, his eyes warming and the sneer vanishing from his face as if by-- Onoda wanted to hit himself for the observation--magic. “And as for you, Sakamichi, I’ll come back down and see you later! Also--” he continued, his voice dropping to a false whisper, “--make sure you don’t let the hotshot bore you to death before I get back. I hear that longwinded pureblood propaganda is the third greatest killer of witches and wizards in Europe annually after cauldron explosions and cursed objects. If he starts trying to recite his family tree, make sure you remember to plug your ears and shout as loudly as you can to drown it out--”

“I am going to end you,” Imaizumi hissed, taking several threatening steps toward Naruko, who beat a hasty retreat, cackling as he went.

“See you, Sakamichi, Imaizumi,” Naruko said, drawing out the last syllable mockingly before he waved a final goodbye and exited the room.

Imaizumi stood stiffly for several seconds, shoulders tensed and hands flexing in and out of fists for several seconds before he calmed down enough to turn to face Onoda. “Well then,” he said with effort, apparently opting to pretend that his emotional slip hadn’t occurred, “I’ll meet you down at the Great Hall in... say, half an hour?”

“Ah-- yeah, that’s fine with me,” Onoda blustered. “Right, I’ll just be going to my dormitory, then.”

“Alright. I should probably be doing that as well,” Imaizumi said, glancing to the side.

“Okay. Sure.”

“Okay.”

“I’ll... um...see you soon.”

“Yeah, me too. Goodbye.”

“... Goodbye.”

Onoda hoped that their meeting in the Great Hall would be a bit less awkward.

***

It was no surprise that by the time Onoda had managed to find his way to the Hufflepuff common room, change into something that didn’t smell like small animals had been using it as a nest, brush his teeth (since he had forgotten to earlier), get together everything he would need for his Potions essay and find his way back up to the Great Hall, Imaizumi was already seated at the Ravenclaw table and appeared to have already gotten a good head start on his paper, if his furious scribbling was any indication.

Instantly nervous about sitting with complete strangers, Onoda approached the Ravenclaw table with caution. He had never sat a any other house’s table before, but he didn’t think there were any rules explicitly forbidding it either--if there had been, he figured that Imaizumi would have known and warned Onoda. As it was, it wasn’t like there would be many people around to complain about his presence one way or another. Breakfast had been cleared away awhile ago, and there were only small numbers of students at each table, some working on homework like Imaizumi or chatting or playing cards. Unlike the days they had classes, the atmosphere was lazy and relaxed. Nobody was anxious, nobody was in a hurry, and hopefully nobody would mind if one Hufflepuff first year came to sit at the Ravenclaw table, either.

“Hey... Imaizumi,” Onoda said, raising a hand slightly in greeting to get the other’s attention.

Imaizumi looked up from his writing and, upon noticing Onoda, beckoned him over with a twitch of his quill. “That took a bit longer than I expected,” he said as Onoda set his stuff down at the seat next to him.

He didn’t sound angry, thankfully, but Onoda felt himself flushing in embarrassment anyway. “Yeah, sorry. I guess I’m just not very good with directions yet.”

“It’s alright,” Imaizumi said evenly. “You’ll learn it with practice.”

“You think so?” Onoda asked, chuckling awkwardly as he sat down. “I really hope you’re right. Sometimes it seems like everything we do here is just something that I’m supposed to be able to learn with time, but then time passes and I still have no idea what I’m doing.”

He belatedly realized that he probably shouldn’t be boring Imaizumi with his trivial complaints, and hurriedly continued, “Anyways, I guess I should thank you for offering to help me out like this. It’s really nice of you to go out of your way just to give me a hand, especially considering I’m hopeless at Potions.”

Onoda noticed that when he looked up at Imaizumi again, the other boy was frowning. Maybe he was still annoyed at Onoda about something?

“Onoda,” Imaizumi said eventually, placing his quill down deliberately in front of him. “I know that you’re a muggle-born already. I told you it was fine if you asked me to explain things for you when you needed. It isn’t... a problem for me, you know.”

“Oh. Thanks, I guess,” Onoda said, flustered. It really did seem like Imaizumi was trying to reestablish the same sense of easy camaraderie that they had seemed to be moving toward before Imaizumi had stopped talking to him.

Maybe that reassurance was what convinced Onoda that what he did next was actually a good idea.

After a brief pause, Onoda blurted out the question that had been lingering on the tip of his tongue for quite some time.

“Imaizumi, are we friends?” he asked.

Imaizumi’s entire body tensed, and Onoda belatedly realized he had kind of selfishly put him on the spot just then. Some of the Ravenclaws sitting near them had apparently heard Onoda’s (not quiet) inquiry as well and were now glancing curiously in their direction.

Onoda laughed nervously, waving a hand as if it could dispel the situation and the attention of their onlookers. “Never mind, sorry. Forget I said anything.”

Imaizumi glanced down at his paper again as if he was tempted to do just that, but instead he merely took a deep breath, shoulders relaxing slightly before he met Onoda’s eyes once more.

“I... I’m afraid I’m probably not the most... I don’t have much experience with friends,” Imaizumi said haltingly, apparently having difficulty either finding the words or bringing himself to utter them. Maybe both. “But I gather you already know that.”

“I-- what?” Onoda asked. “Why do you think--”

“I know you’ve been talking to Miki,” Imaizumi said. “And I know what she’s like. I guess I’ve been... uncomfortable for awhile because I didn’t know what she had been talking to you about and how much of it was about me. But whenever I talk to her she only ever talks to me about you so it’s pretty safe to assume that the opposite is true as well.”

“Oh--oh,” Onoda said, realization sinking in. “Is that... is that why you weren’t talking to me before? Because you didn’t like the fact that I would... know things about you?”

Onoda winced, realizing that if he was trying to avoid putting Imaizumi on the spot, he was doing a very bad job of it.

“You could say that,” Imaizumi said, glancing away. “I guess there’s no point in denying it now-- even if Miki hadn’t told you that little redheaded menace certainly didn’t hesitate to start blabbing it around. I assume you also know now that I’m a pureblood.”

Onoda nodded.

“And do you know what that entails?”

“Yeah, I think so,” Onoda said. “Mr. Kanzaki told me about purebloods when we went to Diagon Alley to get my school stuff. Since I’m a muggle-born and he was trying to explain to me why coming from a family of muggles might be a problem in the magical world.”

“Then you probably also have a fairly good idea about the kinds of... reputations we might bring with us here, based on who our parents are,” Imaizumi said. “And the kind of reputation I have, as a pureblood--as an Imaizumi-- is not always good. That Naruko is an idiot, but he’s not entirely wrong, either. My family are not particularly... let’s say, welcoming of new ideas or alternative viewpoints, and our history is not one that I’m particularly proud of.”

Imaizumi paused, and just as Onoda was wondering if he had finished speaking he continued, “So I had a fairly good idea of the sort of reaction I would receive when I finally got to Hogwarts, and I didn’t like it. I don’t want people to talk about me whenever I enter a room. I don’t want people trying to get close to me because of how influential my parents are, and I definitely don’t want to put up with loud, obnoxious people who pigeonhole me as a pureblood and try to pick fights over it. I just wanted to be left alone, but apparently even one day was too much to ask because despite my best efforts to keep everyone away I still ended up having to put up with people interrupting my privacy even before I got to Hogwarts.”

Onoda swallowed, recognizing his own entrance into Imaizumi’s story.

“But it turned out,” Imaizumi continued, “that I actually didn’t mind having someone around as much as I thought I would. You were a muggle-born and didn’t know enough about the wizarding world to be able to recognize me as an Imaizumi and a pureblood, so after you got over what I assume was just nervousness over meeting a new person, you were friendly and I... kind of enjoyed having the company. And then when I saw Miki talking to you I just assumed that things would change now that you knew who I was-- that it might get awkward, or you might start treating me like everyone else does once they find out. At the time I thought it would be easiest to cut ties early rather than take any chances. I’m sorry though-- in retrospect, I can see it was very unfair to abandon you and not offer an explanation.”

“N-no it’s not a problem,” Onoda said, uncomfortable with Imaizumi humbling himself just to apologize to him. “But actually, you were right about Miki. She did tell me a bit about you. She also said that you didn’t have many friends and asked me to... uh... try to be your friend, as a favour to her.”

Imaizumi snorted, and Onoda noticed that there was a faint smile twitching in the corners of his mouth. “That Miki,” he said. “I knew she was planning something.”

“Huh? Why?”

“Because she told me the exact same thing about you,” Imaizumi said, his expression now threatening to break into a real smile for the first time since Onoda had met him. “Miki said that her brother had told her all about a lonely, shy muggle born kid he’d met who would be going into his first year at Hogwarts, and that she had promised to help him out however she could. So she said she noticed you were spending time with me and then she asked me to try to be friends with you as a special favour to her.”

Onoda’s head was spinning at this new information. “So Miki was really--”

“Don’t get me wrong, she was doing exactly what she said she was doing--trying to get us to be friends with each other. Only she was trying to make it seem like we would each only be doing it as a favour to her and because we took pity on the other person. It’s probably about the only way she could be sure our pride-- or at least my pride--wouldn’t get in the way. She’s the sneakiest matchmaker I’ve ever met,” Imaizumi said, but there was real admiration in his voice. “I’ll probably have to discuss personal boundaries with her again, but I’ll admit that I am impressed.”

“Wow,” Onoda said, deciding that his initial impression of Miki as being more open and less sly than her brother was completely unfounded. She was obviously much more clever than he’d given her credit for. “I know she told me that Mr. Kanzaki had mentioned me, but I had no idea that he told her to... ‘look out for’ me like that. Unless she was making that part up?”

Imaizumi shrugged. “I don’t see why she would, and I don’t think it’s that difficult to believe that your teacher-supervisor was worried about your transition between life as a muggle and life as a wizard.”

Onoda didn’t reply.

Imaizumi huffed out a sigh, rubbing the back of his neck absentmindedly. “And to answer your question, yes. I think we are friends. Or we can be, if you want.”

Onoda stared at him. “But.. before--”

“I know, I was avoiding you before. That was entirely my fault--you did nothing wrong and you would be well within your rights to cease associating with me if it makes you feel better. It’s true that I’m a pureblood, but I promise I’m not like... that. At least, I’m trying not to be like that. Do you understand?”

“I think so,” Onoda said, and surprisingly, he felt like he really did. “But you really don’t have to worry--it would be unfair if I were to judge you just because you’re a pureblood and you worry about how people might act toward you. I’m a muggle-born and I have to think about the same kind of thing, too. And whenever you’ve spoken to me you’ve always been really kind and helpful, so I know you’re not... someone who hates people for being muggle-born. So what I mean to say is that if you’re okay with being friends with a someone who’s not very smart and gets lost on his way to breakfast every morning then I’m definitely okay with being friends with you!”

Imaizumi actually smiled then, and although it was still a fairly tight smile and also sort of crooked, to Onoda it felt like the sun had just come out from behind the clouds. “Okay, then. We’re friends.”

With surprisingly little fanfare, they both went back to the homework they had been neglecting. Imaizumi picked up his quill and began writing while Onoda settled in and set up his books and supplies. For a few minutes, the only indication that the conversation had happened at all was that Onoda couldn’t seem to keep a goofy grin from spreading across his face (despite the fact that he was writing about the importance of chopping the eel eyes before measuring them out rather than after), and even Imaizumi looked uncommonly relaxed as they worked in silence.

“Although,” Imaizumi said thoughtfully several minutes later, breaking the silence just as Onoda was replenishing the ink in his quill, “while I am happy to consider myself one of them, I’m not entirely sure I trust your taste in friends.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’m trying to figure out how on earth you ended up trailing after a Naruko,” Imaizumi said. “I guess it’s not too terribly surprising-- from what I’ve heard they love muggles and muggle-borns to distraction-- but being involved with them has risks too. I’m not... entirely sure it’s a good thing you’ve caught the interest of one of them.”

“By risks... do you mean the stuff his family is involved in? With letting muggles know about magic?” Onoda asked.

Imaizumi blinked. “So you know about that already. Did that Naruko tell you?”

“Uh... Mr. Kanzaki did, actually. He didn’t tell me much though, just that letting muggles know about the wizarding world was dangerous but might also be a good thing as well?”

“I think it’s very unlikely a change of that magnitude would be a good thing at all,” Imaizumi said pointedly. “Kyoko Naruko-- that brat’s mother--is the main perpetrator in this mess. She’s a minor official in the Department of International Magical Cooperation, but for years now she’s been better known as an activist for the abolition of the Statute of Secrecy.”

“So you think telling muggles about magic would only be a bad thing? Mr. Kanzaki said that there was a chance that the muggles might attack things they see as different, but don’t you think it would be nice if we could all work together?” Onoda asked, thinking of his own mother, who despite having a difficult life and more than enough reason to be embittered with the world had reacted with easy acceptance and genuine, unabashed delight that magic was real. She hadn’t been jealous that Onoda had gotten the chance to learn magic and she hadn’t, instead providing him only with support and encouragement.

If Onoda’s magic could help her, or people like her, he would be wholeheartedly in favour of uniting the muggle and magical worlds.

“It’s a nice dream,” Imaizumi said, frowning slightly, “but it’s also entirely unrealistic. While I don’t believe it’s true that every muggle would react with violence toward us, I do believe that the risk of conflict is too great. The decision, once made, can’t be taken back afterward, a fact which has either not occurred to Kyoko Naruko or she’s deliberately choosing to ignore. And I don’t trust people who would behave so recklessly with the lives of so many.”

“Oh...” Onoda said, deflating. “That sounds... reasonable, I guess.”

“Has that Naruko boy been trying to get you involved in any of this?” Imaizumi asked, concern evident in his voice. “I’ve been wondering, since... well, you are a muggle-born yourself, and--”

“What? No!” Onoda said quickly. “No, I met Shoukichi when I was lost in Diagon Alley and he helped me out. And then he helped me again when I was having trouble with my broom during our first flying lesson and now he’s going to teach me to fly better. He’s never even mentioned his parents and has been nothing but kind to me, really!”

“...Oh,” Imaizumi said, face twisted slightly like he didn’t entirely believe what Onoda was saying. “Well... just be careful, I guess. I’ll keep an eye on him too, just in case.”

“I... don’t really think that’s necessary?” Onoda said tentatively. “But thanks anyway, Imaizumi.”

Immaizumi nodded vaguely, apparently satisfied with Onoda’s halfhearted response. “And just one other thing I’ve been meaning to mention--you can call me Shunsuke if you want. I noticed that you refer to that Naruko brat by his first name so it seems kind of ridiculous for you to keep calling me my last name.’”

Especially since it seemed like Imaizumi was trying to distance himself from his pureblood roots, Onoda thought, but didn’t mention aloud.

“Okay,” Onoda said, smiling. “And... the same for you. If you want, you can call me Sakamichi from now on.”

“I’ll do that,” Imaizumi said, sparing Onoda a small smile, like Onoda had just done him a favour. “Thank you.”

It felt odd to be thanked for such a small thing, and Onoda felt like he should have been the one thanking Imaizumi for being willing to try being friends with him in the first place, but Onoda, at a loss as to what to do, merely nodded before glancing away.

“So...” Imaizumi began, in a clear attempt to direct the conversation back toward their respective comfort zones. “I have that flying manual I mentioned here if you want it. Have you been reading the copy of Quidditch Through the Ages that I lent you at all?”

“Uh... no, not for awhile,” Onoda admitted sheepishly. “I’m not doing that well in most of my classes, and the readings are hard so I’ve been spending a lot of time on those. Do you want it back, or--”

“--No, it’s fine,” Imaizumi said dismissively. “You can consider it an indefinite loan. Although...” he continued in a more hesitant voice, his ears reddening, “I guess there’s one thing I have been wondering for awhile, and that’s if... if you have the next volume of that comic series you lent me on the Hogwarts Express with you? And if you do, do you think I could... borrow it?”

“...Really?” asked Onoda, unable to conceal his surprise. “I didn’t think... sorry, I guess I was sort of under the impression that you didn’t like it that much?”

Imaizumi glared at his parchment as if it had personally wronged him. “I didn’t think so either. It was... really different from pretty much anything I’ve ever read. But I’ve been finding that I can’t help but wonder how Kotori’s magical trials will turn out and if she’ll finally get the hang of spellcasting without a wand, or if Arimaru will actually turn up at her birthday party like he said he would or if he’ll just skip out on it again like he did on their date to the park, and I also want to know how Mage ended up in that form in the first place and if he’ll ever change back or if he’s stuck like that forever. I can’t stop thinking about it and it’s distracting me whenever I’m trying to do other things and I can’t figure out why, but not knowing what’s going to happen is bothering me.”

“Oh! Well, in that case...” Onoda said, beaming, “it sounds like you’re actually really into the series! That’s great-- don’t worry, I have another seven volumes in my trunk downstairs, you can borrow them if you’d like. And then I have the rest of the series so far back home, so I’ll make sure to pack them for you when we go home for Christmas.”

Imaizumi blinked. “Oh... okay, thanks.”

“I’m so glad you like them, though!” Onoda enthused, “I’ve never met anyone else who enjoyed these comics as much as me! There’s a new volume coming out next February too, and it’s supposed to have a special side-story about Arimaru’s past in it, so it’d be great if you could get caught up by then and we could read it together. I’ve always wanted to have a friend to talk about all of my theories with!”

Imaizumi mostly looked baffled at this-- somewhat uncharacteristic, Onoda realized-- behaviour, but, incredibly, the corner of his mouth twitched up in the barest hint of a smile. “Okay,” he acquiesced, “I’ll follow your lead, then.”

Onoda would have followed up that comment with an assertion that Imaizumi was in no way obligated to listen to Onoda’s pushy comic recommendations if he didn’t want to, but he was interrupted by the feeling of a warm body settling onto the bench next to him and almost immediately after an arm was abruptly thrown over his shoulders.

“Sakamichiiii, don’t tell me you two started without me,” Naruko-- because really, who else would it have been-- complained, although Onoda suspected he was joking. He glanced down at Onoda’s barely- touched parchement. “Not a lot though, from the looks of it. What’ve you been doing all this time? Has that dumb hotshot been distracting you from your work?”

“What? No-- Imai... Shunsuke and I have just been talking, I guess?” Onoda stammered, inexplicably guilty all of a sudden. “Sorry, I guess I should’ve waited for you, huh?”

“Not really, considering he wasn’t even invited,” Imaizumi muttered, nearly inaudibly.

“Pfffffft,” Naruko laughed, ruffling Onoda’s hair. “It’s fine, it’s fine... I needed to re-do my hair after my shower and that takes quite a bit of time, so I didn’t expect you to wait. And as for you,” he said, craning his neck around Onoda in an attempt to address Imaizumi, “just who do you think you are to tell me where I can and can’t go? Sakamichi was my friend first, you know! You don’t get dibs just because you can supposedly trace your roots back to Merlin’s pervy uncle or who the fuck even knows.”

“For your information,” Imaizumi said acidly, “Sakamichi might be your friend too, but this is my house table, and if I say you can’t be here then you’d better move along, runt.”

“Since when is that a rule?”

“Since I was sitting here and I’ve decided you’re an annoyance,” Imaizumi said. “The rest of Ravenclaw house would back me up.”

“You’re awfully confident of that for someone known for a bad attitude and a frigid personality, even by his own housemates,” Naruko replied with a smile that was all teeth. “Are you really so sure they would rush to your defense or is that just the pureblood privilege talking?”

Imaizumi’s eyes narrowed until they were nearly slits. “Oh, I don’t know,” he said caustically, “I’m pretty sure that regardless of what people think of me it’s a safe bet that they like you even less.”

“Oh, please,” Naruko said, rolling his eyes dramatically. “I’m way more popular than you.”

“You’re so sure of that?” Imaizumi asked. “Is popularity even a possibility when you’re the size of a bean, have a smarmy attitude to go with it and your head looks like a pygmy puff that’s been dunked in a gallon of HairStay potion?”

Naruko growled. “I’m still growing! And don’t you dare insult my hair, you prick, when I become a professional Quidditch player this hairstyle will be known as the hairstyle of champions! And I don’t care what you say, I’m still more popular than you!”

“I don’t care about being popular,” Imaizumi said blandly. “It’s only feeble-minded attention-seekers like you who want it so bad, because you’re so afraid of your own mediocrity that you’ll do anything to feel special in some way. It’s pathetic.”

“Do you want to go?” Naruko snarled, rising to his feet. “Say that again to my face and I’ll show you mediocrity in the form of my fist to your jaw!”

“A real wizard would settle this with his wand,” Imaizumi taunted, eyes biting.

“Yeah, well, I’ve got an itching to mess you up, and Wingardium leviosa just isn’t going to cut it, Imaizumi. Or are you just too scared to actually fight me for real?”

“I’m not scared of anything,” Imaizumi snapped, bristling. “If you want a fight, I’ll give it to you.”

“Tough talk, well-boy.”

“I’ll beat you so far into the ground you’ll never grow again.”

“I’ll beat the pretentiousness out of you so hard your ancestors will feel it!”

“I’ll rip those stupid eyelashes out of your stupid face--”

“That’s enough!” Onoda shouted, slamming both his hands down on the table so hard that the entire table shook causing his and Imaizumi’s ink bottles to fall over.

Naruko and Imaizumi stared at Onoda in shock, their eyes impossibly wide.

“O-okay...” Onoda said, suddenly growing timid again now that the reality of the situation was sinking in once again. “L-look, you two,” he said, “I get that you both have... a lot of reasons to not get along, but this is definitely not the way you should be solving them. Fighting won’t solve anything and if you’re caught, you could get into a lot of trouble. Also,” he continued, glancing around nervously, “people are staring at you.”

“Uh...” Naruko said, blinking. “I’m pretty sure they’re actually looking at you, Sakamichi.”

“H-huh?” Onoda squeaked. “No way, I’m--”

“No, I’m pretty sure he’s right-- for once,” Imaizumi said delicately. “You did just shout and make the entire table shake. It was kind of... difficult to miss.”

“Oh,” Onoda said. “Oops-- I-I’m sorry!” he exclaimed, addressing the questioning--and annoyed-- looks that he now noticed were mostly aimed in his direction. “You can go back to whatever you were doing now, I’m very sorry for bothering you all!”

Before he could begin panicking properly, however, Onoda felt a hand on the sleeve of his robe tugging him back down into his seat. “That’s enough, Sakamichi-- they can deal.”

“Agreed,” Imaizumi said, pulling out his wand. “Scourgify,” he said, pointing at the pools of ink that had been spilled, which immediately vanished.

“Sorry about your ink, Imai-- Shunsuke,” Onoda said mournfully as he capped his now-empty bottle.

“It’s fine-- I have more,” Imaizumi said. “You?”

“Yes, don’t worry,” Onoda said, unable to fully contain a sigh.

Imaizumi frowned unsurely. “You still sound... upset, though.”

“Well...” Onoda said, now fidgeting with the bottle and rolling it absentmindedly between his palms. “I guess I just really wish you two wouldn’t fight,” he confessed. “I like both of you, and-- I’ve never really had friends before. It’s really nice that you both seem to like me and I like you, so... I guess I’m just kind of sad that you don’t seem to like each other.”

Imaizumi and Naruko glanced at each other over Onoda’s head, which was a feat that, because of Naruko’s lack of height, would have been impossible had Onoda been sitting up straight with his head raised, but since he was slouching, their eyes apparently just managed to meet.

“Fine,” Naruko agreed eventually, quickly averting his gaze from Imaizumi’s. “I won’t try to punch any manners into him if it’ll just upset you-- even if he does deserve it,” he said, glaring pointedly. “I can’t promise we’ll be friends or anything like that but I promise I won’t maim him at all if I can help it.”

“You couldn’t maim me even if you tried,” Imaizumi shot back, but when he turned to address Onoda his voice was even. “The same goes for me. I don’t like him, and you already know that I don’t think he’s necessarily the best friend for you--”

“Hey!”

“--But if you do consider him your friend as well,” he continued, “I will try my best to respect that. I can’t see us ever really getting along but I’ll try to avoid coming to blows if possible.”

“Only because you know you’ll lose if it comes to that,” Naruko said cheerily.

“So, Onoda,” Imaizumi continued stiffly, obviously attempting to ignore the redhead. “Is that acceptable to you?”

Onoda sighed, feeling tired all of a sudden. It was... disappointing that his two new friends didn’t seem to be able to get along or willing to even attempt to be friends with each other, but he supposed that this was the best he could hope for, for the time being.

But good grief, was it really supposed to be this exhausting having friends?

“Yes, I guess so,” Onoda said eventually. “I mean, I can’t force you to like each other. But if you both want to hang out with me enough that you’ll be willing to put up with each other then... I am really grateful that you like me that much, I guess. So thank you for that.”

“Aww, of course we like you that much,” Naruko said, nuzzling up to Onoda like a cat. It was weird, but... not particularly unexpected, coming from him. “Well, I guess I can’t really speak for the hotshot, but I think you’re really cool, Sakamichi!”

“I wouldn’t be spending time with Sakamichi if I didn’t like him, obviously,” Imaizumi said, expression closed off once again as he rummaged in his bag, presumably for a fresh bottle of ink.

Onoda barely resisted the urge to sigh again. Apparently this was the way it was going to be from now on. He really hoped Imaizumi and Naruko eventually discovered even the tiniest shred of fondness for each other-- however deep down it might be buried-- and work their way up from there. But until then, he suspected he’d be forced to mediate between his two friends more often than not.

They seemed to have enjoyed racing each other earlier that day, at the very least. Maybe when they were finally able to play Quidditch they’d be able to let out their feelings in a positive, less destructive way?

Or not, he thought, remembering with starling clarity the heavy black balls called “Bludgers” that seemed to exist for no other reason than to try to knock players off their brooms or concuss them or both. He could imagine all too clearly that Imaizumi and Naruko’s rivalry might not translate particularly well into such a dangerous environment.

Onoda glanced at the two boys sitting on either side of him dubiously. Naruko, rather than writing his Potions essay, was shredding his parchment into pieces, crumpling them, and flicking them at Imaizumi’s head. The other boy was once again immersed in writing his paper and didn’t appear to be aware of anything going on in his vicinity, much less the tiny pieces of paper that landed on him and stuck in his hair like snowflakes. Naruko’s tongue was poking out from between his teeth and he was grinning expectantly as he prepared and launched several more paper missiles, obviously waiting for Imaizumi to finally take notice so he could get a reaction from him.

Onoda could only imagine how well this was going to end.

Between playing referee for his two friends and somehow learning to fly well enough that he could keep them as friends, Onoda could tell that he would certainly be busy in the coming months.

***

Once Monday rolled around again, Onoda prepared himself for another week of classes he barely understood and would only succeed in showing him how little he actually knew.

Happily, it turned out to be a better week than any he’d had so far, however. Now that he could count both Naruko and Imaizumi as his friends, he at least no longer had to sit alone in all of his classes. When the Hufflepuffs and Gryffindors were together, Onoda could count on Naruko to always choose the spot next to him and to join him in in a rousing commiseration of their failure to understand the point of the lesson.

It also turned out that one of the classes they took together was Herbology, and while Naruko was not necessarily good at Herbology, he was far more ruthless with the garden shears and trowels than Onoda was, and in a pleasant change of pace the Venemous Tentacula now kept its distance from them during class, which in turn allowed him to pay attention during the lesson instead of constantly glancing over his shoulder to see if it was creeping closer.

Onoda also appreciated the classes he had with Imaizumi. The Ravenclaw boy was, as always, not especially chatty, but he would sometimes mention his progress in whichever comic book he was reading at the time and talk about the things he had liked or been confused about in a low voice as they prepared their potions ingredients together. When Onoda was in classes with Imaizumi, he also had the opportunity to ask him for help on points he didn’t understand, since Imaizumi generally did well in all of his classes and seemed to have no issue with giving Onoda a hand as well. It was immensely reassuring to know that, even if the lessons were unintelligible to him sometimes, he could simply ask Imaizumi to rephrase it in a way he could understand later.

It also helped that Miki was in all of Onoda’s classes as well. Although she didn’t often sit by him, she always made a point of greeting him and talking to him a bit every day, and even though he knew she had other, closer friends, he really appreciated that she was going out of her way to look out for him. He was even properly introduced to Miki’s friend Aya, who was, as it turned out, a muggle-born just like Onoda. She seemed a bit distant at first, but once he realized that this was probably just her way of dealing with the same sort of culture shock as he was still experiencing from being involved in the wizarding world for the first time, he found himself sympathizing with her and understanding her better. Given time, he could see himself considering Aya a friend, too.

On the whole, Onoda found that now that he had people he considered friends to spend his time with, the days passed by a lot faster. In a blink, the school week was over, and the next thing Onoda knew it was once again 6:00 in the morning on Saturday and Naruko was barreling into him outside the Hufflepuff common room, wrapping his arms around him and rambling on about conditioning and flying and ‘finally showing the hotshot who’s boss.’

And so, the events from the previous Saturday repeated themselves--with some notable differences.

This time, when they reached the Entrance Hall, Imaizumi was waiting for them, leaning against the wall with a bored look on his face. When he spotted them, he gave a polite nod to Onoda, though his lips merely twisted in vague distaste when he saw Naruko.

Naruko stuck his tongue out at him in response, which succeeded in changing Imaizumi’s expression to one of utter disgust.

Onoda determinedly positioned himself between them before their hostility could escalate, and with that they were on their way to yet another fun-filled day of practice and Onoda's two friends subtly trying to murder each other.

Their morning exercise routine didn’t go particularly well, mostly because Imaizumi and Naruko kept insulting each other’s training regimens and trying to trip each other up when Onoda wasn’t looking. It didn’t take long before this plan was abandoned, but in that time Naruko had managed to knock Imaizumi down the hill they were practicing on twice and Imaizumi had finally succeeded in grabbing Naruko by the hair and was in the process of aiming a Stinging Hex at his face by the time Onoda intervened. Onoda had managed avert disaster (this time), but by this point the safest option for everyone involved was deemed to be taking a break for food and trading silent looks of resentment instead of going at each other with fists or magic.

The situation improved only slightly with the addition of broomsticks, if only because it allowed for another way for them to settle their differences besides fighting and, for the most part, limited the possibility of physical contact.

Onoda was not surprised when, almost as soon as they had reached the Quidditch pitch with their broomsticks in hand, Naruko hopped on his and immediately took off, challenging Imaizumi with wild eyes to once again, “Come chase me, hotshot, chase me!”

Imaizumi had glanced at Onoda unsurely (and possibly a bit guiltily), muttered, “This won’t take long, I promise,” and kicked off as well, shouting back at Naruko something about how he wasn’t chasing him (despite the fact that he obviously was, and it was pointless to deny it).

And Onoda was already aware of how this scenario was going to play out, so he seated himself on the ground to wait.

While he didn’t exactly feel bad about not being included in his friends’ power struggles-- he was pretty sure no one sane would actually want to be in the middle of that-- he did find himself feeling a bit left out as he watched his two friends fly away. It was obvious that Imaizumi and Naruko both really loved flying, and were both very good at it. For all their constant bickering, Onoda knew that at least they did both genuinely enjoy having someone to compete against who was on their level, especially when it came to their favourite activity.

And Onoda... just wasn’t a part of that. He couldn’t be, so long as he remained a miserable failure at anything even resembling flying.

He had to get better.

Just then, it became clear to Onoda that the events of last week must be repeating themselves, because he felt something small and light bounce off his head, and he immediately knew what it was.

Once again, there was a tiny paper airplane sitting innocently on the grass next to where Onoda was sitting, and he felt his heartbeat stutter as he leaned over to pick it up before the wind could carry it away.

With the airplane was safely in his grasp, Onoda squinted upwards, determined this time to see who it was who kept sending him these notes, but the top of the goalpost was-- according to Quidditch Through the Ages-- somewhere around fifty feet in the air, and from this distance he could make out little more than a vague dark silhouette set against a bright sky. It was however, at least enough to convince Onoda that there was actually some-- either very brave or very reckless-- person sitting up there.

Someone who was apparently interested in communicating with Onoda, for some reason.

Onoda unfolded the airplane cautiously, his hands shaking with unanticipated nervousness as he wondered what he might have received today.

This time, the wrapper was pastel-blue and its label indicated that the product it originally held had been “Drooble’s Best Blowing Gum,” but Onoda wasn’t particularly interested by this point beyond taking note of yet another bizarre wizard candy he had never heard of. If he wanted to know what it was badly enough, he could probably ask Naruko about it later, anyways-- he seemed to make up for his lackluster performance in their classes by knowing a lot about candy.

When Onoda flipped over the wrapper, however, he found what he was looking for-- another short, hastily scribbled message from his anonymous correspondent.

I feel like this is all very familiar. What do you think?

Onoda suspected that the message-writer was referring to Imaizumi and Naruko’s competition of the day, and he felt a tiny smile steal across his face as he privately agreed.

And it was with that realization that for the first time, Onoda found himself almost wishing that he could somehow reply to whoever was sending the messages. They seemed interested in knowing what he thought of things, after all, since two out of the three notes he had received had asked him what his thoughts were. He wondered if the sender was actually expecting him to be able to reply, and was growing to be annoyed at Onoda’s apparent lack of interest.

Another airplane bounced off his head, and Onoda snatched it up, barely pausing before tearing it open to get to the message inside.

You’re very quiet.

Onoda blinked. Apparently his thoughts had been along the same wavelength as those of his mysterious correspondent, if he interpreted the message as one of disappointment that he never answered any of the questions they asked.

But at the same time, wasn’t it unrealistic to expect a response in the first place? Whoever was on top of the goalpost was basically just throwing the airplanes down, probably providing a bit of guidance with their wand to make sure it reached its target and wasn’t caught by the wind on the way down. If Onoda wanted to reply, though, he would need to somehow make the message fly up there on its own, and he didn’t know how to do that with magic yet.

Onoda had no idea what the message-sender wanted from him, unless....

Unless...

He smacked himself on the forehead, unable to believe it had taken this long for him to figure out the obvious answer to his question. He had come to the Quidditch pitch in the first place for flying practice. He was actually sitting with a broom across his lap right at that very moment, even as he wondered what it would take to get something high enough in the air that the person on the goalpost would see it.

The message-sender wasn’t expecting a message in return, necessarily. Maybe he was just waiting for Onoda to get curious-- or frustrated-- enough about who was sending the messages to actually get on his broom and come find them himself.

Except the message-sender probably banked on Onoda not being too much of a coward to actually fly up and find out who it was. And if Onoda was anything, it was a coward. There was no way he would voluntarily get on his broom and confront the person who had been sending friendly but also sort-of-creepy messages for the last two Saturdays in a row. It wasn’t happening.

But still...

Despite his resolution to remain firmly planted on the ground until Imaizumi and Naruko got back, Onoda found himself swallowing his fear and kicking off from the ground on his broom, preparing to meet whoever had been sending him the candy-wrapper messages.

When he brought his broom (with difficulty) to a steady hover just in front of the Quidditch goal hoop, a number of things that he had been wondering about became immediately clear.

The first thing Onoda registered was that he had been totally correct-- the person he had been looking for was actually seated on the very top of the Quidditch goalpost. He looked to be a boy of about Onoda’s age, and was perched precariously on the top part of the ring with one foot braced on the lower edge and the other swinging carelessly into open air. There was a broom casually balanced over his shoulder, but other than that, he was entirely unsupported and there appeared to be nothing to catch him should he fall.

He was either blissfully unaware of this fact or was just incredibly brave, which Onoda felt a sharp stab of envy for.

“There you are!” The boy beamed, addressing Onoda as if it wasn’t weird or surprising at all to be meeting a new person face-to-face for the first time while one of them was perched unsteadily on a broomstick, one was on a Quidditch ring and both were both were in midair fifty feet above the ground. “I was beginning to wonder what it would take to get you to come up here.”

Onoda opened his mouth to reply, but no sound came out.

“I’m Sangaku Manami. Pleased to meet you!” the boy said, beaming radiantly and raising a hand in greeting.

This boy-- Manami-- instantly struck Onoda as being somewhat strange, his choice in seating notwithstanding. Not in a bad way necessarily-- kind of like how Imaizumi had seemed strange when they first met, except totally different at the same time.

Like Imaizumi, Manami was pale and skinny with dark hair, but the similarities ended there. The impression he gave off was one of... the only word that came to mind was ‘lightness.’ He would probably be taller than Onoda if they were standing side-by-side, but despite his loose robes Onoda could tell that Manami was very slender, definitely no wider in build than Onoda himself despite his greater stature. His hair was true-black with a glossy blue sheen, and fell down to his shoulders, framing sharp, elfin features. His eyes were large and half-lidded, which lent him a placid, permanently sleepy expression.

He didn’t look like any eleven-year-old boy Onoda had ever encountered, either in the muggle world or the wizarding one.

...And he was currently smiling dreamily at Onoda and waving as if this wasn’t one of the strangest encounters of Onoda’s life.

“I thought that the point of you coming up here was so that you could say things back to me,” Manami said, returning the hand he had been waving with to its original position at his side, although he made no move to tighten his grip on the hoop. “What’s your name?”

“I-I’m... Sakamichi. Sakamichi Onoda,” he eventually managed to force out. Well, there-- he had answered, so he might as well go all the way. “So... I take it you’re the one who’s been sending me messages, then?” he guessed.

“I am,” Manami said, sounding pleased. “Did you like them?”

“Uh... yeah? I guess?” Onoda replied, baffled. “Why did you send them, though? And why to me?”

Manami shrugged, and Onoda inwardly winced, wondering it that small shift in balance would be all it took to knock him off the post. Miraculously, though, he managed to keep his seat, and answered in a remarkably casual voice, “Well... last week I saw you sitting down on the pitch while your friends flew off without you and I thought you might be bored, so I decided to try to strike up a conversation with you.” He paused, then grinned bashfully at Onoda. “Looking back, I guess I probably should have mentioned where I was in the first place so you didn’t have to go looking for me... but if I’d done that I wouldn’t have gotten to see if you’d be able to figure it out yourself. And since you’re here now, it looks like you found me anyway, so I guess it all worked out fine in the end!”

“O-okay,” Onoda said, at a loss as to what else to respond with. “I guess that makes sense....”

But it still didn’t really make a lot of sense, much like everything else Onoda had seen about Manami so far. But perhaps for Manami, sending mysterious letters down to the person who 'looked bored' so he could see what they did was the logical thing to do. He might simply have done it on a whim. Or maybe Manami was the one who had been bored.

But whatever the reason, at least it didn’t look like Manami had meant any harm by it, and Onoda relaxed slightly to have that mystery solved.

At least, he relaxed as much as he could while still maintaining his balance on a broomstick that was hovering in midair.

“So... what exactly are you doing up here?” Onoda asked, summoning his courage.

Manami smiled at him serenely. “I like high places, you know.”

“Oh. Really?”

“Yeah,” Manami said, leaning forward suddenly and kicking his feet out with apparently no regard for his own safety. Onoda felt his mouth go dry, wondering if he’d have to try to make his first (and hopefully last) airborne rescue, but once again, the other boy seemed to be in no danger of falling, and balanced himself easily.

“I love flying,” he continued, blissfully unaware that he had almost given Onoda a heart attack, “and I love the freedom of it. I like feeling the wind pushing me and making me faster, too. And when I’m not flying, I like finding other places where I can sit and see all the way down to the ground. This place is one of my favourites.”

“I guess I can see why....” Onoda said, swallowing nervously as he risked a glance at the surrounding countryside, as if it was possible for him to somehow see whatever it was that Manami was seeing. The view was spectacular, he supposed, with the lake and the forest on one side and the mountains and castle on the other, but the view from the ground was impressive too and Onoda already knew which one he preferred.

“Tell me, Sakamichi Onoda,” Manami said abruptly, jerking Onoda out of his thoughts. “Do you like flying?”

Onoda blinked, slightly taken aback by the sudden inquiry. He opened his mouth to respond that no, he didn’t like flying at all, and if he had his way he’s never get on a broom again for the rest of his life-- but he stopped himself before he could get the words out.

Did he like flying? Not particularly-- it was terrifying. But at the same time... he wasn’t sure he hated it exactly, either. It occurred to him that he actually didn’t really give a lot of thought toward flying itself beyond his fear of heights. Mostly, he just wanted to be good at flying so he could reap the rewards that he foresaw coming with it-- such as approval and continued friendship with people he liked.

Liking flying, though. That would be an added bonus.

“I... I don’t really know?” Onoda said hesitantly.

Manami frowned at him quizzically.

“It’s like... I don’t know, I want to be good at it. I want to like it. But I’m... I’m afraid of heights,” Onoda confessed sheepishly.

“But you’re up here right now,” Manami observed. “Are you scared now?”

“...Terrified.”

“Oh,” Manami said, looking at Onoda with renewed interest. “That is very strange.”

Onoda felt it was probably a little bit bold of Manami to be throwing around words like ‘strange’ when he was clearly the strange one, but he kept this thought to himself. “What’s strange? That someone could be afraid of something that you like so much?”

Manami laughed, and it sounded something like bells chiming. “Well, that too, I guess. But to me it just seems more strange to be so determined to do something that you’ll just casually put up with your worst fear to make it happen. Why are you forcing yourself?”

“I don’t know,” Onoda said. “It’s mostly selfish, I guess. I want to impress some people. So that they’ll like me.”

It was hard to keep the bitterness out of his voice.

“And that’s it?”

Onoda glanced at Manami. “Maybe? It’s mostly that, actually. But sometimes... I see how much flying means to people, and I really wish I could see what they do in it. Like Imaizumi and Naruko, or like Miki, or... you, I guess.”

“You want to know what I see in flying?” Manami asked in an amused voice.

“Yes... although I know you mentioned you like the freedom? And also that you love heights?” Onoda, asked, hoping he wasn’t crossing some sort of line by turning the subject of the conversation over to Manami.

“Yes, I do,” Manami said with feeling. He turned back to Onoda eagerly, startling him with the sudden intensity in his-- very blue-- eyes. “Hey, have you ever thought about what it might be like to fall from a great height?”

Onoda blanched, looking away quickly. “Uh... yeah, actually. All the time.”

Onoda was afraid of heights. Whether he wanted to or not, that thought was always in his mind whenever he got on a broom. Wasn’t that implied?

“You don’t sound very happy about the idea,” Manami noted, sounding weirdly disappointed.

“O-of course I’m not!” Onoda exclaimed, confused. “I’m afraid of heights. I’m not a good flyer, and if I fall, I might....” he cut himself off. “I don’t try to think about it.”

“Hmm...” Manami said thoughtfully, his eyes growing distant.

Onoda had a sneaking suspicion he had just failed some sort of test, although he had no idea what test that might have been.

“Is that... bad?” Onoda asked, hazarding a guess.

Manami laughed, and that was apparently all it took for him to brighten up all over again. “No, I guess not... it’s understandable, really. Well then, I guess all that’s left is to wish you luck on your quest to like flying, Sakamichi Onoda.”

It occurred to Onoda belatedly that Manami was taking his broom out of its ‘at rest’ position over his shoulder, presumably in preparation to leave. “Oh. You’re going already?”

Manami nodded airily. “Yeah, I think so. This place is getting pretty familiar, so I’d like to see something else before Mr. Kanzaki comes after me to make me bring the broom back. And your friends will be here soon, so you’ll be busy and it’ll get boring again.”

Now that Manami mentioned it, Onoda could hear the faint sounds of an argument drawing closer on the wind. He hoped that they hadn’t fallen into the lake this time.

“Oh!” Onoda said. “Okay, then. I guess we can keep talking later if we see each other... you’re a first year too, aren’t you? We should be in classes together.”

Manami smiled at him mischievously. “Hmm... maybe? We’ll see.”

“Huh? What--”

Onoda barely remembered to take a look at the house insignia on Manami’s robes before the boy-- with seemingly inhuman grace-- hopped off his perch and mounted his broom in one swift movement before flying off.

“Come talk to me again the next time you’re on a broom,” Manami called back once, and soon after he was out of sight.

Onoda carefully retuned to the ground and sat down as if nothing had happened, despite the fact that his mind was whirling with questions and confusion surrounding the strange conversation he had just had with an equally strange individual.

One thing was certain, though: Onoda wouldn’t be mentioning this particular incident to Imaizumi and Naruko.

He had only caught a glimpse of the Hogwarts crest Manami wore, since it was only after he mentioned that they might be in the same classes that it had occurred to Onoda to wonder which ones their houses would be taking together, but it was enough to tell him which house the boy belonged to.

Sangaku Manami was a Slytherin.

And Onoda knew that one of the very few things Imaizumi and Naruko would agree on was that Slytherins were not to be trusted.

Chapter Text

Dear Mom,

I don’t know when exactly this letter will reach you (since this is the first time I’ve ever sent mail to someone by owl) but I do know that it should at least get to you eventually, since I’m borrowing my friend Shunsuke’s owl and he tells me she is very reliable. Her name is Psyche and as long as you don’t lock her in the house she should be able to hunt for her own food so you won’t have to worry about feeding her. Just send her back with a letter if you want. Shunsuke actually just told me to tell you that you shouldn’t worry about taking too long to reply, either, since he wouldn’t be using her much anyways. I guess he just doesn’t send a lot of mail to his family? At any rate, it was very generous of him to offer her and I’m really grateful!

As for me, I barely know where to start. I have so much to tell you about Hogwarts and my classes and the people I’ve met that I know I won’t be able to say nearly as much as I want to in one letter, but I’ll do my best to give you an idea of what it’s been like so far.

My classes are very interesting, but they haven’t been easy for me. They are very different from courses that I took in my last school so I’ve pretty much had to start learning everything from scratch. I know I told you about some of them and showed you the textbooks over the summer, but now I can definitely say that the classes themselves are every bit as difficult as the books made them look! My favourite class is probably Astronomy or maybe Defense Against the Dark Arts, but I’m not very good at either of them yet. My least favourite class is History of Magic, but Potions can get pretty gross sometimes, so I’m not a huge fan of it either. Lately I’ve also been training to be better at flying (on a magic broomstick!) and I have some friends helping me out with that. They are called Shunsuke and Shoukichi and they are both very nice. I don’t think they realize it, but they actually have a lot in common, too.

So I’ve been very busy over the last couple of months, I guess! How about you? How has your work been going? Has anything exciting happened in your life lately?

I miss you a lot, and I’m really looking forward to coming home for Christmas in a month from now. I will probably have a chance to talk to you in more detail then, but in the meantime, I hope you are doing well. I will also try to send you letters more regularly from now on!

Love you!

Onoda

After signing his name neatly on the bottom of his parchment, Onoda folded his letter in half and put it in an addressed envelope, which he then sealed with wax.

“Done! Is there anything else we need to do before it gets sent off?” Onoda asked as he handed his letter to Imaizumi.

Onoda and Imaizumi were once again sitting at the Ravenclaw table in the Great Hall, Onoda having just finished writing the first letter to his mother that he’d attempted since coming to Hogwarts. Imaizumi was pouring over one of Onoda’s comic books, his eyes narrowed in concentration as he attempted to make sense of what was happening in the pictures (Onoda had belatedly remembered that wizards were used to pictures that moved, so he imagined muggle comics were a special challenge for Imaizumi to understand), but judging by the fact that he had barely looked up from the book for nearly an hour, he was likely enjoying the story anyway.

They were both ostensibly waiting for Naruko to show up, although Onoda was sure that Imaizumi would deny doing any such thing to his dying breath.

“No, this much is fine,” Imaizumi said, taking a break from his reading to take the letter from Onoda and slip it into his bag. “As long as you have the right address written out I should be able to figure out where to tell Psyche to go. I’ll send it off tonight, if that’s okay with you.”

“Thank-you for this, Shunsuke,” Onoda said with feeling, hoping to convey just how much the gesture meant to him. “I haven’t spoken to my mom in so long... I mean, I knew before I came here that there wouldn’t be any telephones and that I’d only be able to communicate with her by owl, but if you hadn’t offered to help me with it I would have had no idea where to begin. I don’t think I could even find my way to the--Owlery, was it-- on my own let alone actually get the owl to deliver the letter to the right place.”

“It’s not a problem, I told you that already,” Imaizumi said with the air of someone who constantly had to repeat himself.

Onoda smiled. “I know, I know. I’m just... really grateful, I guess. And I’m really happy I’ll have a chance to hear from my mom, too! She’s all alone back home, and I worry about her a lot.”

Imaizumi raised a questioning eyebrow at him. “Why would you worry about her? You’re the one who’s at a magic school she doesn’t know the location of or have the means to contact on her own. Shouldn’t she be more worried about you?”

“No, I don’t think so,” Onoda said, smiling to himself. “Mom doesn’t see it that way. She thinks it’s really exciting that I got to go out and study magic. She’s really happy for me.” He paused, trying to find a way to put his thoughts in order before continuing. “I guess I’m just worried because she... doesn’t really think of herself that much? Like, we’ve never been well-off and she had to work really hard to keep us fed and clothed and everything, but she always seemed really happy, and if things ever got really bad then she tried not to show it to me. I know she made a lot of sacrifices and it must have been really hard for her, though, and now that I’m at Hogwarts I can’t... look out for her anymore, you know? I couldn’t do much before, but I could at least check up on her and make sure she wasn’t overworking herself and give her someone to talk to. I just... I really hope she’s still doing alright.”

“I think I can understand that,” Imaizumi said. “It sounds like she’s similar to you in a lot of ways.”

“What?” Onoda exclaimed, face turning red. “No, I don’t think we’re that similar, really! My mom is a kind and genuine person who always puts others before herself, and she’s really reliable, too!”

Imaizumi stared blankly at him, and--Onoda thought-- a little exasperatedly.

“What do you think...” Imaizumi began, but evidently thought better of it, because he cut himself off before he could finish, shaking his head and turning back to his book. “Nevermind.”

“What were you going to say?” Onoda asked, curious.

“Nothing.”

“Oh,” Onoda said, slightly disappointed that Imaizumi seemed to be trying to end their conversation. He wondered if he had done something wrong again. “So...” he began again tentatively, hoping to reignite their dialogue. “Do you have any plans for Christmas yet?”

“No,” Imaizumi replied shortly, not even glancing up from his book.

“Aren’t you looking forward to seeing your family?” Onoda asked, surprised.

“Not particularly,” Imaizumi said, and Onoda could tell by the way his mouth tightened that he was not enjoying the topic in the slightest. “I was thinking of spending Christmas here, actually.”

“Oh-- well, I guess that might be good if you want to study over the break. But... won’t that be lonely?” Onoda asked, knowing he was probably being a bother but also feeling incredibly sad just thinking about Imaizumi spending a solitary Christmas in the castle while most of the other students-- Onoda included--went home.

Imaizumi shrugged. “I like the quiet. And my family aren’t really the types to have a big get-together or anything, either. Most years my parents work on Christmas anyways, so we never do much. Sometimes they give me presents, I guess... and most of the servants get the day off, so the manor is pretty empty. Sometimes I read or do maintenance on my broomsticks if I get bored. I just figured that this year if I was going to be spending the entire break alone anyways I might as well do it here instead of that drafty old place.”

That was possibly one of the bleakest descriptions of the holiday season Onoda had ever heard.

“It’s... it’s too bad your parents are too busy to spend Christmas with you,” Onoda said sympathetically. “I’m sure they really wish they could see you more.”

Imaizumi snorted. “Yeah, I’m sure,” he said sarcastically.

Onoda wisely decided not to comment.

Thankfully, a convenient distraction appeared soon after in the form of Shoukichi Naruko, whose original fiery redheaded image had, since Onoda had last seen him a few hours previously, been completed by the addition of badly singed Hogwarts robes and partially-burned bangs.

“Hold that for me, Sakamichi,” Naruko said by way of introduction, passing Onoda a large tube of something and a roll of bandages before throwing his books down in a heap on the table.

One of the books slid off the stack and knocked into Imaizumi’s elbow, and he glared. “What is it this time?” he asked, taking in Naruko’s charred appearance through narrowed eyes. “Did the muggles your family loves so much finally try to burn you at the stake?”

“Oh ha ha ha,” Naruko said. “That’s funny. You know, because muggles still burn witches and wizards at the stake. Totally a thing that still happens. You’re definitely not just absolutely clueless about what muggles are actually like and trying to cover it up by pretending to be clever.”

“I don’t have to pretend,” Imaizumi remarked cooly, propping his open comic up on the table as if to block Naruko from his sight.

“So... uh, what did happen, Shoukichi?” Onoda asked as Naruko took back the tube from him, and noticed as he did so that to go there were also a number of nasty-looking burns on the other boy’s hands that were an angry red and appeared to be beginning to blister in places.

Just looking at them was enough to make Onoda queasy. He wondered a bit lightheadedly why Naruko wasn’t making a bigger deal of it-- they looked painful.

“My cauldron melted,” Naruko said by way of explanation, squeezing the the tube until a thick greenish paste came out. He spread this liberally over the worst of the burns on his hands before applying some-- more sparingly-- to the smaller red patches on his face. The entire process took only a few seconds, and had a worryingly practiced ease to it. “Apparently I am ‘too heavy-handed’ with the mayfly wings and confused porcupine quills for knarl quills... again.”

“Why am I not surprised,” Imaizumi muttered, dubiously eying the green paste that was practically dripping from Naruko from behind his book. His lips twisted. “That is disgusting.”

“Well, so is your face, but you don’t see me complaining,” Naruko shot back, taking back the bandages from Onoda and beginning to awkwardly wrap his hands.

“Here, I’ll do it for you,” Onoda said after the fourth time Naruko cursed, having succeeded only in smearing more of the green substance off on the bandages rather than actually covering his injuries.

Naruko needed no convincing. He beamed at Onoda as he thrust the-- now very grimy-looking-- bandages at him. “Thanks, Sakamichi! You’re the best!”

“Y-yeah, no problem,” Onoda said, grimacing as he accepted the proffered bandages and began to carefully wrap Naruko’s hands, trying his utmost to avoid having to touch the weird green stuff any more than absolutely necessary. Presumably it was some kind of antibacterial lotion? Or maybe some kind of magic to speed up the healing process? Whatever it was, Onoda hoped that it worked-- the burns, especially with the green paste on them, made for a truly horrific sight.

“Do you have any plans for Christmas, Shoukichi?” Onoda asked as he continued winding the bandages, hoping to draw Naruko’s attention away from any additional discomfort he might be feeling as a result of Onoda’s clumsy efforts.

Naruko smiled widely. “Yep!” he said. “I’m going back home to visit my little brothers! I’m so excited to see them again, and I’ve already got some of their presents picked out and everything! I bought them a couple of new video games, and I think I’ll get them some cool magic toys from Diagon Alley as well, and--”

“And you’re not excited to see your parents?” Imaizumi asked blandly, and Onoda shot a nervous glance at him.

“Of course I’m excited to see my parents, too,” Naruko said testily. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

Imaizumi glowered, but he looked away quickly.

“Usually on Christmas Eve we do our own thing, but on Christmas day we spend nearly the entire day together,” Naruko continued, as if nothing had happened. “Mom says that’s because since we spend most of our time apart, it makes it even more important that we appreciate the times when we can all be a family again. We eat a big breakfast and we open our presents, and after that we spend the day doing whatever we want. We went sledding last year and it was amazing-- mom enchanted our sleds to go faster and we kept on wiping out, and then when we were finished we went back to the house to watch TV and drink hot chocolate. My brothers are still really little though so they were exhausted after that. They didn’t even get a chance to try out the toy broomsticks they’d gotten before they fell asleep.”

Naruko’s eyes were warm with fondness as he recounted his story, particularly when he mentioned his younger brothers. Onoda thought that it was nice to see him so happy, but his heart twinged a bit when he remembered Imaizumi’s earlier description of the Christmas he was most familiar with.

“But, at any rate,” Naruko continued, “Christmas is still a while off. Do you know what we have to look forward to in the meantime?”

“Uh...” Onoda said, after a moment of consideration. “Our History of Magic exam next week...?”

“Sakamichi--” Naruko began, looking pained.

“--House Quidditch matches start this weekend,” Imaizumi said dryly, without glancing away from his comic.

“Yes, thank-you for interrupting,” Naruko sneered at Imaizumi. “I was going to tell him that! Don’t butt in on our conversations!”

“If you call that a conversation,” Imaizumi shrugged in a deliberately unaffected manner.

“AAARGH, I have no idea why Sakamichi even puts up with you, you are such a pompous douche all the time. Would it kill you to keep your stupid comments to yourself?”

Imaizumi’s eyes snapped up. “I don’t know, would it kill you to stop being a whiny child for one second? Oh, wait, you seem to live off making yourself the center of attention so in this case it probably would--”

“I can’t believe you’re still interrupting me, oh my god just shut up--”

“Okay,” Onoda said in a loud enough voice that it could be heard over Imaizumi and Naruko’s, which had been steadily rising in volume as the fight progressed. “Quidditch is starting, that’s good to know. Who’s going to be playing?”

To be perfectly honest, Onoda didn’t particularly care about the answer, but it was the perfect topic to distract his two quarreling friends so he took full advantage of it. Naruko and Imaizumi immediately stopped arguing and turned their gazes back to Onoda, their attention captured in a way that he was beginning to understand could only be achieved by the mention of Quidditch or a smart comment from the other.

“I’m surprised you didn’t know about it already, Sakamichi,” Naruko answered first, cocking his head slightly. “After all, it’s your house team that’s playing!”

“Oh. Who are they-- I mean we... who’s the opponent?” Onoda asked.

Imaizumi made a face. “Slytherin,” he said. “They’re good this year, from what I’ve heard. They’re weaker in some areas than others, like anyone would be before their first match of the season, but overall they’re a solid team. Their Seeker is also supposed to be pretty impressive for a third-year-- he’s a Toudou, and that’s an old name in the wizarding community around here so he’s definitely had a lot of practice on a broomstick outside of school. It’ll be a difficult match for Hufflepuff, I think.”

“So... how would you say Hufflepuff compares, then?” Onoda asked.

“Not sure, but they’ll just have to be better than Slytherin come next Saturday, that’s all there is to it!” Naruko said brightly. “I hear they have one or two decent people on the team from last year though, so I think they should still have a pretty good chance.”

“Miki would probably be a good person to ask if you want to know the specifics,” Imaizumi added. “I’m sure she’s been sitting in on their practices since they began.”

“Yeah, probably,” Onoda agreed. He seemed to recall her mentioning something about that at the feast. “So... even though neither of your teams are playing, you’re still going to watch the match?”

“Well, duh,” Naruko said. “Quidditch is Quidditch-- I’m going to watch it no matter what. It doesn’t matter who’s playing, it’s always fun to watch. It’s even funner to play, of course, but we can’t do anything about that yet.”

“Who will you cheer for, though?” Onoda asked.

“Slytherin is playing,” Imaizumi said dryly. “So I’ll be cheering for Hufflepuff, naturally.”

Naruko snickered. “Took the words right out of my mouth, hotshot,” he said, poking Imaizumi in the cheek. “Aww, maybe we can get along after all if you admire me enough to start copying me--”

Imaizumi smacked his hand away. “Get off of me.”

Onoda shifted uncomfortably in his seat at this reaffirmation that his friends really didn’t like Slytherins. He wondered what they would think of him if they found out he had been talking to a Slytherin student, and that he had been planning on meeting up with this same Slytherin student some other time so they could continue their earlier conversation.

“Planning” was the operative word, however. Onoda still remembered their parting words, and that in response to Onoda’s assertion that they should be in classes together, Manami had said only something along the lines of “maybe.”

Onoda had been confused about what that had meant at first, but Manami’s reason for answering like that became clear before long. Onoda had gotten into the habit of scanning the crowd in all of the classes he had with the Slytherins and even checking the Great Hall during meals, but he rarely managed to catch sight of anyone who looked like Sangaku Manami. Logically, finding him in his classes should have been an easy task, even if the crowded Great Hall posed a challenge since Manami was so distinct in appearance and their classes were comparatively smaller, but it had been days since their meeting and Onoda had yet to see him once.

For awhile Onoda had wondered if Manami was deliberately avoiding him, but he quickly dismissed that thought as paranoia. It was unlikely their meeting would have affected Manami enough to make him change his behaviour, and it was a bit self-centered of Onoda to think it might have.

So there must be another reason. Onoda had already decided that he would definitely ask Manami what he had meant when he finally did find him again.

In the meantime, seeing his friends’ negative reactions to Slytherins in general only further convinced Onoda that he should keep his... acquaintanceship with Manami a secret for the time being. He had no idea why they were so against Slytherins, but until Onoda learned something definitive about them one way or another, he didn’t want to invite an argument or risk being seen as sympathizing with the enemy.

With a sigh, Onoda resurfaced from his thoughts and was just in time to prevent Naruko from using Onoda’s quill-sharpening knife to lop off a fistful of Imaizumi’s bangs.

Yes, it was definitely a good idea to avoid further complications with his friends, if this is what he could already expect to deal with on a regular basis.

He didn’t want to think what might happen if he introduced Manami into the mix now.

***

The day of the Hufflepuff versus Slytherin match dawned bright and clear. The morning wind was brisk as throngs of excited Hogwarts students made their way down to the Quidditch Pitch and up the tall wooden staircases to the stands. It was, all things considered, the perfect weather for flying.

Not that Onoda was taking any notice of it, however.

Onoda held his breath as he continued his climb up to the spectators’ seats, determinedly keeping his eyes fixated above him so that he couldn’t see the spaces in the staircase that gave away just how far off the ground he was. As if this wasn’t strange-looking enough, about halfway up he had abandoned his pride entirely and grabbed hold of Naruko’s sleeve, and soon Imaizumi had, unprompted, begun dictating to Onoda when to lift his foot for the next step up so he wouldn’t have to look down again.

It was humiliating having to rely on them so much for something as inconsequential as climbing up stairs, but that the same time Onoda was secretly flattered that they’d be willing to do something like this for him. It was nice that, despite his fear of heights, he could still count on their support.

“Hey, Shunsuke! Sakamichi!”

Onoda, careful not to let his eyes stray downward, looked around until he spotted the person who had called out to them.

“Oh... it’s Miki,” Onoda realized, spotting her from where she was already seated with her friend Aya. She was waving at them exuberantly, and Onoda lifted his hand shyly to wave back.

Miki grinned, turning for a brief word with Aya before looking back at them and calling out, “You three should come sit with us!”

Imaizumi glanced at Onoda and shrugged. “I don’t have a problem with it. Would you be okay if we sat with them, Sakamichi?”

“Yeah, of course,” Onoda said, surprised that Imaizumi needed to ask. “I like Miki.”

Imaizumi nodded. “Okay, then,” he said, moving off in the direction of the seats that Miki had claimed. “I guess we’re all agreed.”

“You didn’t ask me, you asshole,” Naruko muttered under his breath.

“I’m sorry,” Imaizumi said, and for a moment Onoda foolishly believed that this was the start of a genuine apology, but his hopes were quickly dashed when Imaizumi followed up his comment with, “I meant that everyone whose opinions actually mattered agreed. I’ll try to be more clear about that next time.”

Naruko smiled beatifically at Imaizumi. “I am going to push you off the top of these stands.”

“With your level of upper-body strength? I seriously doubt it,” Imaizumi responded cooly.

“You fucking jerk, I hate you so much!” Naruko snarled, dropping his smile in favour of glaring at Imaizumi like he wanted to leap at him, but couldn’t since Onoda was still positioned between the two of them. He settled for turning away angrily before reaching into his pocket, pulling out an unwrapped Jelly Slug and ripping into the unfortunate candy with his teeth, tearing its head off in one bite.

Onoda swallowed nervously, glancing at Imaizumi and expecting to see him seething with pent-up aggression after yet another angry exchange with Naruko, but was surprised to see that Imaizumi didn’t look anywhere near as annoyed as he had been anticipating. His expression was characteristically bland for the most part, but his mouth was actually doing that thing it sometimes did when Onoda suspected he was fighting back a smile, with the corner twitching up just slightly before quickly being squashed back down into a tight line.

It was barely noticeable and gone in less than a second, but Onoda knew it had been there nonetheless.

Well, Imaizumi had gotten the better of that exchange, Onoda eventually decided. It probably wasn’t too out of character for him-- or anyone, for that matter--to be happy about winning an argument.

When they reached the empty seats next to Miki, Onoda automatically stood aside so that Imaizumi could sit next to his childhood friend, only to instead find himself practically pulled down into the seat by a radiantly-beaming Miki.

“You should sit next to me, Sakamichi!” she said eagerly, resting a welcoming hand on his forearm. “You’ve never seen a Quidditch match before, have you? As a fellow Hufflepuff I would be more than happy to explain anything you need to have explained during the game, if you want! If there’s one thing Touji’s always told me it’s that it’s never too early to start familiarizing yourself with the rules of the game.”

“You don’t have to go out of your way, Miki,” Imaizumi said dryly as he took the seat on the other side of Onoda before Naruko could, resulting in some particularly vicious swearing from the redhead.

“It’s no extra trouble to me,” Miki replied brightly, shutting him down in an instant without letting her cheerful expression falter once. “Honestly. I’ve already promised Aya the same thing, after all, and it’s not much harder to explain it to two people than it is to explain it to one.”

Aya rolled her eyes, turning to glare at Miki mutinously. “Don’t pretend you’re doing this as a favour for me, idiot. I know that you just want an excuse to talk everyone’s ears off about Quidditch, as always.”

Miki giggled. “But I do honestly think you’d like Quidditch if you gave it a chance, Aya,” she said, apparently not even bothering to argue against her friend’s claim. “You seem so fond of those sports you played in muggle school, so maybe you’ll come to appreciate Quidditch too once you get a little bit more familiar with it. They can’t be that different.”

“Flying through the air on a broomstick while a team of seven other people and two balls are trying to knock you out of the sky is fairly different from tennis, Miki,” Aya shot back.

Miki’s smile got even bigger, if that was possible. “Aya,” she said happily, “you mean you actually remembered how many people there are on a Quidditch team and what the role of the Bludgers are? So you were listening to me after all!”

“What? Well-- it’s not like I could forget, with you rambling on about it all the time,” Aya said, glancing away quickly, her face reddening slightly. “You probably don’t even realize how often you end up repeating yourself once you get into the mood for one of your Quidditch lectures.”

“Still, it is nice to know that you were interested enough to remember that much,” Miki said. “Even though it’s not technically true that all seven members of the other team would be trying to knock you off your broom in any given situation. See, the Beaters and the Chasers are usually the only ones you have to look out for-- and the Keeper occasionally, if you’re trying to score, but they’re not allowed to leave the goal area. You probably don’t have anything to worry about from the Seeker, either. But even then there are fairly rigid rules in place prohibiting excessive roughhousing between players so in most cases if a person genuinely tried to knock you off your broom it would result in a foul or--”

“Okay, okay, I get it!” Aya said exasperatedly. “It’s complicated-- I get that. Just please spare me the details just this once.”

“Alright then, if you insist,” Miki said, blinking, as if she couldn’t understand why Aya didn’t think this was as fascinating as she obviously did. “I’ll just finish explaining it if it comes up in the game later.”

“I can hardly wait,” Aya replied with no small amount of sarcasm.

“Well, then... Sakamichi!” Miki said, turning to Onoda in what appeared to be the hope that he would be a more enthusiastic student than Aya was. “I haven’t gotten much of a chance to talk to you lately. So tell me, are you excited to see your first-ever Quidditch match?”

Onoda had never before sympathized with Aya as much as he did right then, and part of him was actually briefly tempted to make his true feelings on Quidditch and flying in general known.

But then, Miki was looking at him with bright, eager eyes, obviously just wanting to share her love of Quidditch with everyone else so they could learn to love it too, and Onoda’s resolve failed, as usual.

“Y-yeah, I’m really interested to see what it’ll be like,” Onoda said with effort, noticing out of the corner of his eye as he did so that Imaizumi was frowning slightly. Obviously Onoda’s acting wasn’t quite good enough to fool him so he hastily continued, hoping as he did so that if he spoke more his words would sound less like a lie. “I mean, I have been curious since I first heard about it from Shoukichi,” Onoda said, glancing past Imaizumi to where Naruko was sitting.

Ideally, Onoda had been hoping that he could draw the attention away from himself by pulling Naruko into the conversation. With Miki focussing her attention on Onoda and Imaizumi's awareness that he wasn’t being entirely truthful, Onoda had hoped that by involving Naruko (and Naruko’s love of being the center of attention), it would create enough of a distraction that he would be allowed to just calmly fade out of the conversation. It would definitely work to distract Imaizumi at the very least, since he seemed to take personal offense at every word that exited Naruko’s mouth and vice versa.

Except that Naruko was currently perched sulkily on his seat with his knees pulled up to his chin, likely still put out after losing both the spot next to Onoda and his latest round of verbal warfare with Imaizumi. He didn’t appear to have noticed Onoda’s not-so subtle prompt for him to introduce himself and join the discussion. In fact, other than for the purpose of throwing Imaizumi dark looks every now and then just to remind him how irritated he was, it looked as if he was doing his best to ignore the rest of them entirely.

Clearly, there would be no help on that front. Onoda hoped that Naruko would at least perk up a bit once the game started, though-- it would be a shame if he couldn’t fully enjoy this match after he’d been looking forward to it so much.

“So...” Onoda said, trying desperately to think of something to add. “Who do you think will win?” he asked.

“Hmm?” Miki said thoughtfully, and if she had noticed Onoda’s suspiciously long pause she thankfully did not comment on it. “Well, I’d like to say Hufflepuff, of course, but Slytherin is supposed to be starting out fairly strong this year with their talented third-years. I wasn’t able to sit in on any Slytherin practices despite my best efforts, though, so I can’t really back that claim up with anything I’ve seen--”

“You tried to watch the Slytherins practice?” Imaizumi asked in disbelief.

“Of course,” Miki said, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “I’ve been trying to watch as much Quidditch played by as many different people as possible this year since I can’t play myself yet. I figured it’s the best way to make sure I’m ready for anything when next year’s tryouts are held.”

“Okay, that’s fair,” Imaizumi admitted, running his fingers through his bangs with some agitation. “But still, the Slytherins? What could have possibly convinced you that that was a good idea-- didn’t it occur to you that they might think you were spying on them?”

Miki frowned thoughtfully. “Well, not at first, I guess... but now that you mention it I suppose that was the logical conclusion to come to. That’s probably why their Seeker came up and told me to leave once he noticed I was in the stands.”

“You’re lucky that’s all he did,” Imaizumi muttered darkly. “I wouldn’t put it past a Slytherin to think he’d be justified in hexing a first year just to keep their stupid plays a secret.”

“Come on, Shunsuke, their Seeker is Jinpachi Toudou,” Miki said, brushing off Imaizumi’s comment almost before he had finished saying it. “He’s a friend of Yuusuke Makishima on the Hufflepuff team... or maybe a “rival” is more accurate, but they seem to get along fairly well, despite whatever Yuusuke might say to the contrary. I don’t think he’s that bad of a person.”

“Slytherins are supposed to be deceptive, Miki, that’s why they’re in Slytherin and not some other house,” Imaizumi said. “You never know what they’re capable of until they actually do it, and by then it’ll already be too late for you. The fact that he’s in Slytherin means that despite whatever shows on the surface, on the inside he’s more than capable of doing terrible things if it’ll benefit him in the end.”

“I think that’s a little unfair of you, Shunsuke,” Miki said. “You don’t even know Jinpachi.”

Imaizumi snorted. “I don’t have to know him, it’s all in the description of his house. Remember what the Sorting Hat said? 'These cunning folks use any means to achieve their ends’. It means that a certain level of ruthlessness is to be expected from all Slytherin students. Look, I’m not saying that he’s one of the world’s first truly evil thirteen-year-olds now, but I am certain that he wouldn’t have been put in Slytherin in the first place if he didn’t have the potential to go bad.”

Onoda turned away uncomfortably, hoping that his expression didn’t give anything of the nervousness and (more surprisingly) the guilt that he was experiencing away. He really hadn’t done anything wrong, but his stomach felt knotted up despite his attempts to tell himself just that.

Although Onoda had already more than gotten the picture that Imaizumi and Naruko distrusted Slytherins, he hadn’t given more than a passing thought as to why they did. And from what Imaizumi had been saying, it sounded like he didn’t like Slytherins because at heart they were selfish and would always seek to benefit themselves first no matter what the cost. And it apparently wasn’t just a personal observation either, it was actually confirmed by the Sorting Hat’s song.

Onoda wondered if Manami was actually like that.

His immediate thought was no, of course not. Manami hadn’t seemed like a bad person at all, from what Onoda had seen. He’d been somewhat unusual in terms of appearance and behaviour, but he had been friendly to Onoda and hadn’t spoken down to him or made him feel bad about being afraid of heights, which was unexpectedly kind of him. He’d had a really nice smile, too, and it had seemed genuine.

He had certainly not given off the impression of being particularly power-hungry or ruthless or aggressive, either. Of that much Onoda was certain.

... But then, Imaizumi did specify that Slytherins were supposed to be deceptive. What if Manami had been lying to him? What if his friendliness toward him had all been some kind of front intended to make Onoda trust him?

But what could Manami possibly gain from that, if it were true?

Onoda was torn away from his worried thoughts when Miki suddenly shook his shoulder.

“Look, Sakamichi! The teams have entered the field! The match should be starting soon!” she exclaimed.

Next to him, Onoda felt Imaizumi sit up straighter, and even Naruko uncurled from his hunched-over position to watch what was happening on the grass of the Quidditch pitch with undisguised interest.

Two teams had entered the field from opposite sides, one clad entirely in yellow and black, the other in green and silver. They looked tiny from all the way up in the stands, which made Onoda uncomfortably aware once again of how high up they were. The teams met in the center of the field and all of their members lined up, each side forming a rough semicircle with two players in the middle. Onoda suspected there was some significance to the order they lined up in, but he couldn’t see or remember enough of the rules of the game to tell who was who.

“So Sakamichi, Aya,” Miki said as she pulled out what appeared to be a pair of opera glasses covered in tiny dials and buttons and positioned them in front of her nose. “This is how Quidditch matches always begin. There are two Chasers in the middle ready to battle for first possession of the Quaffle and the rest of the team spread out around them. That gives the center Chaser a couple of different passing options after they kick off from the ground and the Beaters are close enough to respond just in case the Bludgers get close to their teammates when they’re first released. The Keepers and the Seekers, on the other hand, are positioned the furthest back so they don’t get caught up in the initial scuffle for the Quaffle. That way the Keepers are free to get to their goal as soon as possible and the Seekers can start looking for the Snitch immediately. This is also so that the Seekers can’t be sabotaged by the other team when no one’s looking.”

“Uh... okay?” Onoda said.

“It looks like Slytherin has chosen to go with Fukutomi as their starting Chaser,” Miki continued, her attention fully focussed on the field. “He’s only a third year but he’s supposed to be very good, so that’s not too much of a surprise... and it looks like Hufflepuff’s gone with...” she lowered the glasses, looking surprised. “Arakita? That seems like an odd choice.”

“Why is that strange?” Imaizumi asked.

“Because from what I understand, Arakita doesn’t do well when he’s supposed to be competing directly against Fukutomi... like he doesn’t try as hard as he should. And they’re supposed to be really good friends too, I wonder why Yuusuke isn’t...” Miki said, squinting into the glasses again. “Oh, there he is. But why is Yuusuke in the Seeker’s position? Did they really not find a new Seeker in time?”

“Yuusuke?” Onoda asked. “You mean Makishima? The one we met at the feast?”

“Yes,” Miki said. “He’s supposed to be a Chaser, though. That’s what he was last year, and that’s what he’s been practicing for all the times I’ve seen the Hufflepuff team together. It looks like they have another Chaser out today though, and I don’t recognize her from practice. Maybe... maybe whoever was supposed to be their Seeker didn’t work out?”

“Is this Makishima a good flyer?” Imaizumi asked.

“Of course,” Miki said. “Toji says Yuusuke has incredible potential, and from what I’ve seen he’s consistently fast and has excellent reflexes.”

“Then it seems likely to me that he was good enough that they decided that, with the current Hufflepuff team being what it is now, he would be wasted as a Chaser,” Imaizumi said. “A weak team is a hurdle, but a weak Seeker would almost inevitably mean disaster for even the best Quidditch team.”

Onoda frowned. “What do you mean?”

“The Seeker often single-handedly scores the most points out of anyone in a match, but that’s only if they catch the Snitch,” Imaizumi explained. “If they fail to do that one thing, then they score nothing and their team will probably lose. If the Seeker is good enough, they can bring victory to even the weakest team, but by that same argument a poor Seeker can lose the game for even a strong team.”

“Oh,” Onoda said. “I guess there’s a lot of pressure on the Seeker to win the game for their team, then?”

“A massive amount, yes,” Imaizumi said, eyes narrowed calculatingly as he watched the players on the field. “And however good he is, this Makishima is not even supposed to be a Seeker in the first place. I don’t envy him at all.”

Onoda looked back at the field, feeling an unexpected surge of pity for Makishima. He wondered if he had even wanted to be a Seeker, and if he had just given up being a Chaser for the good of the team, for reasons like the one Imaizumi had been speculating about.

“There’s Toji with the balls!” Miki said excitedly, tapping Aya on the shoulder and gesturing wildly at a tiny black-clad figure who had just stepped onto the field. “It’s about to start!”

“I can barely contain my anticipation,” Aya said in a monotone.

“Okay, he’s opening the box... and he’s released the Snitch!” Miki said. “Now he’s going to take out the Quaffle and then....”

The tiny figure of Kanzaki approached the two players waiting in the very center of the field, carrying with him a large red ball. The crowd went silent in anticipation as Kanzaki could be seen speaking with the two players briefly and having them shake hands before all the members of both teams mounted their brooms and stilled, watching the center expectantly.

A whistle sounded, and the Quaffle was thrown in the air.

The ball was quickly picked up by the center player in green, who immediately took off in the direction of the Hufflepuff goalposts. It happened so quickly Onoda could barely keep up with the figure in green with his eyes.

How was it possible to be that fast? Onoda had considered Imaizumi and Naruko to be good flyers, and it was true that they were fast, but he had never seen anything like this before. Was this the difference that newer, better brooms than the school ones made? Or was it just practice? Whatever the cause, the Slytherin player appeared to be practically just a streak of green through the air as he flew.

This was far beyond what Onoda had been anticipating. This was... unbelievable.

“...And what did I tell you, Fukutomi has first possession of the Quaffle,” Miki said, clicking her tongue critically. “Arakita won’t do his best if it’s against Fukutomi. Someone definitely didn’t think that choice through.”

Onoda wondered how Miki could be so calm about this.

“How are they going to stop him, though?” Onoda asked. “He’s too fast! There’s no way--”

A medium-sized black ball whipped out of nowhere and struck Fukutomi square in the back. The force of the blow caused him to drop the Quaffle, which was immediately caught by a player in yellow who sped off in the opposite direction, to the resounding cheers of the spectators.

“That Beater is pretty good,” Imaizumi said, turning to Miki. “His aim was spot-on. Do you know who it is?”

“Izumida, I think” Miki replied. “Believe it or not, he’s only in his second year. This is his first real match.”

“Huh,” Imaizumi said. “Not bad.”

“Yeah, nice move by the Beater,” Naruko said, speaking up for the first time since they’d taken their seats. He was watching the match unfold in front of them with eager eyes, clearly having forgotten in the excitement that he was still supposed to be angry with Imaizumi and the world in general. “I don’t know about this Chaser though, I don’t think he’s moving fast enough to-- oops, yeah, Bludger to the head. Slytherin has possession again.”

The Quaffle was captured once again by a Slytherin player, although it wasn’t Fukutomi this time so Onoda had no idea who it was. The Slytherin player didn’t have a chance to move toward the Hufflepuff goal, however, before he was roughly knocked into by a yellow-robed player who took advantage of his surprise and unceremoniously wrenched the Quaffle out of his hands. Without a moment’s hesitation, the Hufflepuff player took off across the pitch, shoving aside anyone who stood (or flew, Onoda corrected himself) in his way, apparently uncaring as to whether they were opponents or his own teammates.

“Are you absolutely sure that’s a Hufflepuff?” Imaizumi asked, looking stunned.

“He doesn’t seem the type, does he?” Miki said. “But yes, Arakita’s definitely a Hufflepuff. He just... how do I phrase it... he really believes in winning.”

Onoda wondered, not for the first time, how such a terrifying person had gotten into Hufflepuff house in the first place. He was ruthless in his ambition, and unfriendly, and didn’t seem to care about anyone other than himself.

Why was someone like Manami in Slytherin, while someone like Arakita was in Hufflepuff? It made no sense.

“So Arakita believes in winning unless it’s against Fukutomi personally,” Imaizumi said. “That... seems sort of strange.”

“I’m sure he has a reason for it,” Miki said, as the Slytherin Keeper failed to stop Arakita from throwing the Quaffle through the middle ring, and the stands erupted into applause.

Onoda, Miki, Imaizumi, and Naruko applauded alongside the rest of the Hogwarts student body (minus the Slytherins) as the scoreboard changed to show the score at 10-0 Hufflepuff.

The Slytherin keeper threw the Quaffle to the next Slytherin Chaser who sped by, and the match began again.

The next forty minutes of the game progressed in much the same manner as the first, with a cycle consisting of one team getting possession of the ball, losing it by either being struck by a Bludger (or Arakita, as was often the case), and the occasional player managing to carry the Quaffle to one end of the pitch to shoot on the goal. The Keepers often managed to stop them, but once in awhile the Chaser would be able to either power through with sheer strength or evade them, resulting in a goal for their team and more applause from the spectators.

And then, with barely a pause, the match would continue.

Onoda had seen his first broken nose when a particularly vicious Bludger had struck one of the Hufflepuff Chasers in the face, and there had been a brief time out while she was fixed up by Kanzaki before the match was allowed to continue. That was the most serious injury Onoda had seen, amazingly, but he was constantly reminded of just how brutal-- and dangerous--the game was. The Bludgers were terrifyingly fast and unpredictable even without the Beaters’ interference, and it wasn’t uncommon for people to be struck in the back of the head without warning as they flew. The players themselves were similarly relentless, practically throwing themselves at whoever was currently in possession of the Quaffle. When it came to this, Arakita was in a league all his own.

Unless, of course, Fukutomi was involved, in which case he backed down, losing speed and ferocity as if suddenly sapped of all energy and will to fight. It was almsot surreal to see, but it seemed that Miki had been correct about Arakita’s unwillingness to compete against Fukutomi.

The score stood at 30-40 Slytherin when the two Seekers finally spotted the Snitch.

It seemed like everyone’s attention-- the audiences’ and the players’ alike-- was distracted from the game when it became apparent that Toudou, who had spent the first part of the match hovering above where the most action was taking place, suddenly took off in a burst of speed toward the far end of the pitch.

“I think Toudou spotted it first!” Miki exclaimed, peering up with her opera glasses to see what people were pointing at. “But I doubt that Yuusuke will just let him have it!”

Sure enough, Makishima, who had clearly been keeping an eye on Toudou, was quick to follow. They jostled for position when they ended up side by side, and if Onoda squinted he thought he could just make out a glint of gold zipping by just a few meters beyond their outstretched hands. They seemed oblivious to all else, despite the fact that they were constantly putting themselves in the middle of the most busy part of the game, where the Chasers were still desperately vying for possession of the Quaffle and were now forced to hurriedly dodge to make sure they didn’t unintentionally block their own Seeker.

Onoda took a deep breath, heart pounding hard as he clenched his hands into fists on his lap. If the Snitch was not allowed to escape, the match would end and whoever caught it would win for their team. He had thought that he would have trouble getting invested in the game, but it seemed as if that wasn’t the case at all. He was surprised to find that the results actually mattered to him-- he wanted Makishima to get the Snitch. He wanted Hufflepuff to win the match.

And from the look on his friends’ faces, they all felt the same way.

A rogue Bludger momentarily streaked in front of the Seekers, causing Toudou to hesitate for a fraction of a second, and Makishima, taking advantage of his moment of indecision pushed forward, pulling ahead of his opponent just as the Snitch went into a dive.

Makishima followed the Snitch’s path, dropping like a stone as he chased it toward the ground. He reached out again, gaining on the tiny golden ball ever-so-slowly as the ground rapidly approached. It would be close--so close-- but Onoda, even with his heart lodged in his throat was certain that Makishima could make it, certain that he could catch the Snitch and still pull himself out of a dive quickly enough to avoid crashing headfirst onto the ground--

But then Toudou appeared out of nowhere, and Onoda lost sight of the Snitch and the ground was right there, but somehow, impossibly, both Makishima and Toudou managed to drag their brooms back into a horizontal position before they hit the ground, although Onoda was almost positive their feet had brushed the grass before they flew back up into the air once more.

Onoda was so overcome with relief that it took a moment for him to realize that half the stands had just erupted into cheers while the other half, surprisingly, was making noises of dissatisfaction. He looked around, confused by this reaction.

“... Why are people unhappy?” Onoda asked Miki. “I thought that they were both going to crash for a second there. Isn’t it... isn’t it good that neither of them were hurt?”

Miki was frowning, and the incongruity of the expression on her face momentarily took Onoda aback. “You’re right, it’s good that they’re both okay. But look at them both and you should realize what happened.”

Doing as she said, Onoda surveyed the Quidditch players on the pitch until he found Makishima, who was hunched over on his stationary broom with his teeth gritted. He was breathing heavily with his purple hair falling into his eyes and he looked utterly furious with himself.

Toudou, in contrast, was soaring high above the other players, smiling brilliantly with his arms outstretched. His expression was one of exhilarated triumph, and there, clutched in his hand, was the golden Snitch, its tiny silver wings beating uselessly as if attempting in vain to escape.

“Oh,” Onoda said, realizing belatedly what had happened. “It’s over? We... we lost?”

Onoda was surprised that he was actually disappointed. It was just a game, but he had really wanted Hufflepuff to win, for Makishima’s sake at the very least.

“The final score is 190-30 Slytherin,” Imaizumi confirmed. “Do you see what I mean about a good Seeker making all the difference?”

“Hey, don’t belittle Yuusuke’s effort,” Miki said defensively. “He did an excellent job for someone who hasn’t had a chance to train for the position before, and Toudou is a spectacular Seeker. I don’t think anyone else could have held up so well against him.”

“I’m not belittling him, just stating a fact,” Imaizumi said.

“Yeah, well I don’t know if you noticed, but you ‘just stating a fact’ is usually pretty damn offensive,” Naruko piped up. “You just automatically think that you’d be better no matter what it is you’re talking about, huh?”

“What do you mean by that?” Imaizumi asked, his eyes narrowing dangerously.

“I mean that if someone complimented about the chef at a restaurant and you overheard you would immediately be putting on an apron and starting up the oven so you could try to show him up,” Naruko said. “You’re over-competitive to the point of weirdness.”

“Over-competitive?” Imaizumi asked in disbelief. “You’re calling me over-competitive?”

“...And I think it’s time for us to make our exit,” Miki said, rising smoothly from her seat followed closely by Aya. “See you later, Sakamichi, Sakamichi’s friend-- Shoukichi, was it? And you too, Shunsuke. It was nice talking to you all.”

“Yes, Goodbye,” Imaizumi said automatically before turning his attention back toward Naruko as if nothing had happened. “You think that I’m over-competitive but it’s perfectly alright for you to challenge me over every single thing I say whether it’s directed at you or not?”

“Only when what you’re saying is judgmental or self-satisfied which oh, I’m so surprised, makes up about ninety percent of whatever you talk about in any given day--”

“Well at least I’m not one hundred percent useless like you, then.”

“I wouldn’t say that, hotshot, since the remaining ten percent for you is definitely just self-pity.”

“I’d pity anyone who had to put up with hearing your voice and seeing your ugly face day after day, so I guess you’re right. I do pity myself.”

“You know, I agree when you put it that way. You are pretty pathetic.”

Shaking his head, Onoda addressed Miki while his two friends argued in the background. “Thank-you for teaching me about Quidditch today, Miki. It was fun.”

“Enough fun that you’ll play next year?” Miki asked, her eyes dancing mischievously.

Onoda opened his mouth to stutter out a response, but Miki beat him to it. “Relax,” she said. “You still have plenty of time to decide whether you want to play or not, and it’s fine whatever you choose. I am glad you enjoyed watching the match with us today, though. It was fun for me too.”

“Thank-you,” Onoda said gratefully. Although she had said it in few words, it really sounded as if Miki had just told him she would continue to like him even if he didn’t play Quidditch. He probably couldn’t find the words to articulate how much that meant to him, so he didn’t bother trying, just gave her the biggest smile he was capable of mustering at the moment.

“Keep an eye on Shunsuke for me, okay?” Miki said, smiling back and patting Onoda on the shoulder once briefly before she and Aya began making their way down the staircase to the ground.

“See you around, Sakamichi,” Aya said, waving once over her shoulder. “You should probably get back to your friends and make sure they don’t knock each other off the stands.”

“Yeah, you too. Wait, what--”

It was a close thing, but Onoda managed to get between Imaizumi and Naruko before they could start throwing spells (or fists) at each other, although by the time he had calmed the situation down most of the spectators, Miki and Aya included, were already long gone.

“Y’know, all this excitement and bitter disappointment is making me hungry,” Naruko said eventually, attempting to straighten out his mussed robes. “Do you think if we went back up to the castle they’d have lunch ready yet?”

“It’ll probably soon,” Imaizumi said. “Do you want to go back and see?” he asked, directing the question at Onoda.

Onoda nodded vaguely, only half-listening as his gaze was drawn, as if by a magnet, to a single dark-haired figure with a broom who had just stepped onto the empty Quidditch pitch. As had been the case with the Quidditch players when they had lined up on the grass earlier, it was difficult to make out many specific features, just a green Slytherin scarf, but for some reason Onoda was sure that the person on the ground was Manami.

If Onoda was correct, then this would be the first time he had seen Manami since their first ‘official’ meeting, when Onoda had flown up to have his first face-to-face conversation with the strange boy on the Quidditch goalpost.

And what was it Manami had said that time again? He’d seemed amused at Onoda’s question about whether they’d see each other in classes and had replied with a playful “maybe,” and then....

...And then he’d told Onoda to come talk to him again the next time he was on a broom.

Since his own methods of contacting Manami had obviously not been successful, it occurred to Onoda that maybe this time he should try doing as the Slytherin boy had asked instead.

“You know what, I’ll catch up with you guys later,” Onoda said, hoping his voice didn’t waver. “There’s something I want to do first.”

“What, seriously?” Naruko asked. “It’s going to be lunchtime soon. Food! Aren’t you hungry?”

“A bit,” Onoda replied. “I’ll be there soon, I promise. I’ll even be back before it even starts.”

“Why, though?” Naruko asked, russet-red eyes narrowing in suspicion. “Are you being forced into a fight? Do I have to kick someone’s ass for you?”

“What--no!” Onoda exclaimed, horrified at the assumption but also quietly flattered that Naruko (who was for all intents and purposes every bit as small as Onoda) was willing to fight for him. “It’s nothing bad I promise-- I just want to be alone for a bit.”

“Is it a girl-- ouch! What the actual fuck do you think you’re doing, Imaizumi?”

“If Onoda wants to be on his own for awhile that’s his own business, idiot,” Imaizumi said calmly, not relenting his grip on Naruko’s ear no matter how much he flailed and cursed. To Onoda, he said, “I’ll bring this one back up to the castle. Take as long as you need, and you know where to find us if you need us.”

“Thanks, Shunsuke,” Onoda said.

“Don’t mention it,” Imaizumi said, dodging a swipe to the face from his captive. “I’ll see you soon.”

“Yep, you too,” Onoda said as Imaizumi nodded politely before he proceeded to half-march, half-drag Naruko down the stairs.

As they left, Onoda reflected on the knowledge that his meeting with Manami would have to be quick by necessity, because Onoda doubted his friends would be able to behave themselves around each other for very long. But he didn’t need much, really. He just wanted to ask Manami why they didn’t seem to be in any classes together, and maybe figure out some other things that confused him about the mysterious boy in the process.

Maybe he might even be able to confirm once and for all if Manami was really the sort of person Imaizumi believed all Slytherin students were, or if the truth was more complicated than that.

And then, if all went well, he might even get a new friend out of it.

Chapter Text

After his friends had left, Onoda had been briefly tempted to go straight down onto the Quidditch pitch to meet with Manami, but he had quickly reconsidered this course of action. Manami had specifically said that Onoda should come and speak to him again when he was on a broom, and he suspected that there might be more to that statement than just an idle suggestion of a situation where they might encounter one another in the future.

It was also entirely possible Onoda was just taking this far more seriously than he should, but he figured that there was no harm in taking the specifics to heart. Once he had made his ponderous way back down the spectator stands’ long staircase he decided that the first order of business would be to see if Kanzaki was working in the equipment room and, if he was, see if he could borrow a broom.

Kanzaki had been in, luckily, although he’d seemed surprised that Onoda had been there alone. Apparently he spent enough time with Imaizumi and Naruko that it had already become unusual to see him without one or both of them around. He had seemed initially hesitant to lend Onoda a broom since he was on his own--and Onoda was sure that Kanzaki in particular remembered his less-than-stellar first attempt at flying-- but he’d been pacified by Onoda’s reassurances that he wouldn’t be out long or try anything dangerous, since he was just going to be meeting up briefly with a friend.

Although he hadn’t exactly tried to be deceptive, Onoda felt a little bad because his statement was unintentionally misleading to Kanzaki. He probably thought that the friend Onoda was referring to was Imaizumi or Naruko, and not some unquantified variable in the form of a Slytherin boy whom Onoda barely knew.

But Kanzaki didn’t ask about it, and Onoda didn’t volunteer any more information.

He still felt guilty, though.

Several minutes later Onoda exited the storage room carrying one of the school’s old Cleansweep Sevens, wondering distractedly when the broom had begun to feel almost familiar in his grip. It made sense, he decided, considering the amount of time and energy he he had devoted practicing flying between Kanzaki’s classes and spending time with his Quidditch-obsessed friends. Onoda was pretty sure he’d never put this much effort into anything in his life, and it wasn’t even because he particularly wanted to be an amazing flyer or win a Quidditch game or whatever it was that appealed to most of his classmates about brooms in the first place.

His reason, Onoda was sure, had nothing to do with Quidditch and everything to do with Naruko’s toothy grins, Imaizumi’s quiet, unobtrusive regard and now--after their unusual meeting--Manami’s careless demeanor and airy laughter as well.

The Quidditch Pitch appeared to be empty when Onoda returned, but Onoda was at least familiar enough with Manami to know that this in no way meant that the boy had left. In fact, he was probably just back in his favoured position on top of one of the goalposts, enjoying the view from his high vantage point and watching everything that happened on the ground below. That sounded like something he’d do.

Onoda wondered if Manami had noticed him yet.

His question was answered when Manami appeared in front of him, dropping out of the sky at an alarming speed before landing--impossibly lightly--on the grass.

“Sakamichi,” Manami smiled at Onoda’s flustered state as he straightened and dismounted his broom, pushing wayward black bangs out of his eyes. “It’s nice to see you again.”

“M-Manami?” Onoda asked in a strangled voice.

It was pointless to phrase the name as a question, since there was really only one person it could have been. It was just that Onoda had been expecting to have to go looking for Manami, since the other boy seemed to prefer the sky to the ground, and he was actually just as shocked that Manami had come to him as he was about his sudden appearance well-inside Onoda’s personal space.

Of course, it was possible that Manami had already been expecting him to show up.

“Call me Sangaku,” Manami said, sizing Onoda up with a look that would appear shrewd on anyone else, but on him merely looked playful. “I saw you at the Quidditch match earlier, so I was wondering if you’d be inspired enough by it to try flying again today. It looks like I guessed right, after all.”

Onoda flushed. “O-oh, you were at the match too? I didn’t see you... oh, but congratulations on your team winning! I thought there would be a sort of celebration for your house afterward, though. What are you doing out here?”

“There might’ve been,” Manami shrugged. “But given the choice between a party in the common room full of seniors and an empty Quidditch pitch, it’s obvious which one is better, right?”

Onoda found himself nodding along-- he wasn't a fan of parties either. As inexplicable as Manami was in many ways, it seemed as though there were things they could agree on.

“And I see you listened to me as well.” Manami continued. “I asked you to come see me the next time you were on a broom, and you did!”

“I’ve been meaning to ask about that, actually,” Onoda said awkwardly, taking the opportunity to bring up the question he'd been meaning to ask. “Remember... the last time we met? I asked you if you were going to be in any of my classes and you said ‘maybe’?”

“Ah!” Manami said with no small amount of amusement. “I did say that, didn’t I? What were you wondering about?”

“I’ve been looking for you in all of the classes I have with Slytherins but I haven’t seen you once,” Onoda said. “But that doesn’t make any sense. We’re first years, so we have to take classes together at least sometimes. Why haven’t I seen you anywhere other than here?”

“Okay,” Manami sighed, his smile dropping away unexpectedly, and Onoda’s heart gave an unpleasant lurch. An unsmiling Manami was something of a strange sight, and Onoda didn’t want to ever get used to it.

“I’ll tell you then, if you want,” Manami said. “You deserve to know, after all. It’s not a happy story, though-- are you sure you want to hear it?”

Onoda nodded, trying for the sake of Manami’s solemn attitude not to look too eager.

“All right, then,” Manami said. “Here’s what happened. I guess I can start by saying that when I was eleven I got my Hogwarts letter--the same way you did, I’m sure, and I was so excited to go to school that I talked about nothing else for months on end. I didn’t care which house I would be sorted into, but I had already decided that I wanted to join the Quidditch team for my house as soon as I possibly could,” Manami said, laughing vaguely. “I was careless, though. I joined the Quidditch team in my first year, and I thought I was good enough to keep up with the others even though they were all so much bigger and stronger than me. It turns out I was terribly mistaken.”

Onoda frowned. “But... I don’t understand,” he interrupted. “Why are you saying this like it already happened? I didn’t see you on the Slytherin team today... and first years aren’t allowed to join, either! So why--”

Manami smiled enigmatically in a way that sent shivers down Onoda’s spine. “You’ll see soon,” he said softly. “Anyways, all of my plans came to an end in the Quidditch final. It was raining and I got confused, and ended up chasing the Snitch into the path of an oncoming Bludger. It knocked me out and I fell from my broom and hit the ground and my skull shattered like an eggshell. The professors gathered below and tried their best to save me, but I was already gone. I was floating above them the entire time, actually, so I could see myself lying on the ground and I knew it was pointless.”

Onoda stared at him in disbelief, feeling a rising sense of horror building in his chest at the direction this story was taking.

“And so that’s what happened!” Manami said in a disturbingly cheerful tone of voice. “I died in a Quidditch match, and I’ve been on the Quidditch Pitch since-- that’s why I’m not in any of your classes. Also, incidentally, that’s why for the last hundred years no first years have been allowed to play join their house teams. It was decided after what happened to me that Quidditch was far too dangerous for novice wizards to take part in.”

“Wait... you mean...” Onoda’s eyes widened in disbelief as he finally grasped what Manami was saying. “You’re a ghost? And you’ve been haunting this pitch for a hundred years?”

“Yep,” Manami said benignly. “I’m tied to the place where I died. It happens, sometimes, with ghosts who are particularly attached to something at their time of death, like a place or an object. And... well, Quidditch meant everything to me in life, so I guess it makes sense that I can never leave here now.”

Despite the strangeness of the situation, Onoda felt a wave of sadness pass over him for Manami-- Manami, who was mysterious and impossibly light and graceful apparently for the sole reason that he was dead.

“I’m sorry,” Onoda said, wishing there was something he could do. He had never expected something like this, and now he almost regretted wanting to know what Manami had meant by his ‘maybe’ in the first place. “Is it lonely?” he asked. “You know... being a ghost?”

“Sometimes,” Manami said, sounding a bit sad before his demeanour brightened slightly, as if an unexpectedly cheerful thought had just occurred to him. “But then, I also get to watch the Quidditch games from here, so that’s always entertaining. Although sometimes when I really am lonely I’m tempted to make myself visible for a second and startle some of the players, you know... just badly enough that they fall like I did. It would be nice to have some company around here, I think. Come to think of it, it does get boring an awful lot being the only ghost on the pitch.”

Wait.

Wait.

Onoda opened his mouth to reply, but Manami continued unabated. “But for the most part it’s okay. I mean, I missed out on a lot in life, I know, since I was only twelve when I died, but at least this way I got my wish-- I get to fly and enjoy Quidditch for the rest of time. So I think I’m happy enough to just be Sangaku Manami, the Quidditch Ghost.”

Onoda was stunned speechless, staring at the other boy’s-- at the ghost’s blank expression for several long seconds, having no idea where to begin or how to say any of the things he wanted to say.

Before he could figure out how, Manami quirked a smile, and the moment was broken.

“Just kidding,” he said lightly, hopping onto his broom.

It actually took Onoda several seconds to process what the other boy had just said.

“B-but you... how... what,” Onoda spluttered, as Manami hovered in the air several feet in front of him, eyes dancing with suppressed mirth as he smiled broadly. “You mean... you mean you’re kidding about being okay with it? Or about being lonely? Wait, no please tell me you’re kidding about wanting more ghosts to keep you company because Quidditch is already a really dangerous sport and if anything you should be more understanding about that considering you actually died playing it, and--”

“No, no,” Manami interrupted, laughing out loud now, apparently physically unable to hold it in for any longer. “I said I’m kidding. I mean that I’m not a ghost, I’m alive and breathing,” he moved in closer and tapped Onoda’s forehead lightly. “See, I’m perfectly solid, just like you.”

“But...” Onoda protested, mind whirling as he tried to understand what was going on. “But you just... you just told me you were one! Are you actually being serious now? About... about not being a ghost?””

Manami just smiled patiently (and perhaps somewhat indulgently). “I’m being serious now, yes.”

“So that whole story you told...” Onoda said incredulously. “You made up that whole thing on the spot?”

“I did,” Manami said innocently. “Did you like it?”

“I...” Onoda said, honestly having no idea how to answer that question. “It was a... good story I guess. Very... believable?” He hesitated at the oddness of that statement, since the Onoda of several months ago wouldn’t have found it believable at all. He suspected his newfound credulity for all things strange came down to his having been attending a school of magic and seeing the impossible for himself every day, but he had never dreamed he would become so inured to the extraordinary that he would have to be convinced that one of his classmates wasn’t, in fact, a ghost.

Now that the reality of the situation was setting in, though, Onoda mostly just felt embarrassed at his naive trust in the word of a boy he barely knew. “That story... was any of it even true?” Onoda asked, determinedly looking away so that Manami wouldn’t notice how red his face was.

“Not really,” Manami said. “Well... I definitely got my letter and I went to Hogwarts, so that much is true. And I actually do love to fly, so... hmm... yeah, it wasn’t all a lie. Just most of it.”

He didn’t sound regretful in the slightest, Onoda noted before he realized something else. “But that means that you still haven’t told me why you’re not in any of my classes.”

“Oh! You’re right,” Manami said, index finger raised to his chin thoughtfully as if he truly had forgotten. He cocked his head inquisitively. “Do you still want to know?”

Onoda was pretty sure that whatever it was couldn’t possibly be as bad as what Manami had just told him. “Yes?” he said tentatively.

“The truth might be worse, for all you know,” Manami said, as if reading Onoda’s mind. “But if you’re sure... tell me, are you any good at tag, Sakamichi?”

Onoda blinked at the sudden subject change. “Well... I’m not that good at games or sports, but I know how--”

“That’s fine,” Manami said. “How about we make a game of it then? If you can catch me within five minutes then I’ll tell you why you haven’t seen me in any of your classes.”

“And if I lose you won’t tell me?” Onoda asked, reading the implication there.

“Well, there has to be something at stake to make the contest interesting, don’t you think?” Manami said, a teasing note in his voice. “What do you say then?”

“Uh... okay?” Onoda agreed reluctantly, knowing that it was pointless to refuse if he really wanted to find the answer to his question. Manami seemed determined not to give him any easy or straightforward answers, and he suspected that if he backed down now, Manami would eventually grow bored of their strange interactions and fly off on his own again and maybe... maybe even find someone else who looked “interesting” enough to toss candy-wrapper messages at, and start this whole production over again.

Onoda was beginning to get the idea that his brief acquaintanceship with Manami was something of a game or a diversion to the other boy. But surprisingly, rather than making him despair he found himself actually sort of... wanting to rise to the challenge for once. To meet Manami’s expectations and maybe even impress him a bit, if such a thing were even possible.

And even if Onoda was misreading the situation entirely, he did still want to know why Manami wasn’t in his classes, so it would probably be worth it to at least try.

Manami, apparently oblivious to the thoughts running through Onoda’s mind, simply offered him a blinding smile. “I’m glad we both agree, then.” He pulled what appeared to be a silver pocket watch out of his robes and twisted one of the tiny knobs on top, most likely setting the timer for their game. “Are you ready?”

Onoda swallowed, fighting down nerves. “We’ll be playing on brooms, I take it?”

“Of course,” Manami replied, as if that much was obvious.

Onoda hadn’t really pictured anything different, but hearing it didn’t exactly fill him with confidence, either. He still nodded his acceptance, however, adjusting his shaky grip on the broom and going through the motions of preparing for takeoff.

Calm down, take a deep breath, he reminded himself, thinking back on Imaizumi and Naruko’s instructions. Start slowly, speed will come with time. Don’t rush if you’re not comfortable with it, keep an eye on your grip-- it should be firm, not crushing. Keep positive, maybe crack some jokes to distract everyone around you so they won’t notice you’re nervous and take advantage of it when the Bludgers come out--

Somewhere along the line Onoda’s inner voice had started to sound like Naruko and it was certainly not doing Onoda any favours. Deeming this line of thinking to be unhelpful, he emptied his mind, in favour of paying attention to what Manami was doing instead.

“Good luck, Sakamichi,” Manami said in what sounded like a genuine voice, his formerly sleepy-lidded eyes awake and intent. “Three... two... one, and here I go!”

Onoda was beginning to notice that when it came to flying, everyone he cared enough to observe had a distinct sort of style and appearance in the air. Imaizumi’s flying, for example, was mostly characterized by his precision-- he was good at sharp turns and sudden speed or altitude changes, probably because of his tendency to think several steps ahead of himself which allowed him to prepare for the necessary adjustments in advance. Naruko’s flying was... in a word, reckless. He prized speed above all else and was actually pretty good at attaining it since he was light and his flying style involved leaning in as close to the broom as possible, which minimized wind resistance. The trade-off was that he had an unfortunate habit of of overshooting his mark once he got up to speed and wasn’t particularly good at stopping himself (unless stopping involved crashing headlong into an irate Imaizumi, in which case he was very good at it).

Manami’s flying, though, was of a very different kind.

If Onoda were to describe it, he would probably call it light. Manami’s kickoff didn’t even seem like a kickoff, because it didn’t appear as though he had to exert any effort whatsoever to raise himself up unto the air. It seemed more like Manami had just decided to no longer have both feet on the ground, and had immediately been aloft again with barely an ounce of effort on his part.

It was certainly the most graceful flying Onoda had seen from any one of their classmates and... no, come to think of it, it was more graceful than any of the players on the Hufflepuff or Slytherin Quidditch teams had demonstrated in their match that morning, too. Onoda hadn’t even realized it was possible to maneuver one of the slow, jerky school brooms that way-- even Imaizumi complained that the flying enchantment on them was barely effective and seemed to become less effective the higher up he flew, but Manami didn’t appear to be having any problem with it. Maybe he didn’t even require a broom to fly at all, since-- no, Manami was human, Onoda reminded himself.

A human but just... undoubtedly, even to a spectator as uninformed as Onoda, a really good flyer.

Manami, once he had flown a safe distance away, doubled back to take stock of Onoda’s position and immediately laughed at what he saw. “Sakamichi, you’re supposed to be on a broom too, you know! You won’t be able to reach me all the way down there!”

Coming back to himself, Onoda realized that rather than following Manami he had just been watching him from the ground in stunned silence as he held his broom in front of him like he had forgotten what to do with it. He felt heat rising to his face as he realized how foolish he must look, and hurried to mount his broom before he could embarrass himself further.

Unfortunately, he realized as he kicked off in his customarily awkward fashion, the chances of him embarrassing himself could only increase exponentially once he was in the air.

“If you’re ready, then let’s see how well you can keep up!” Manami announced once he had confirmed that Onoda was airborne and ready to pursue him for real, before he took off towards the opposite end of the field.

Grimly clinging to the handle of his broom, Onoda leaned forward, urging it to speed up despite the instinctive fear the motion invoked in him. It was necessary, if he wanted to reach Manami. He would just have to bear it and hope for the best.

Manami, while maintaining his distance, didn’t seem to be trying especially hard to increase the distance between himself and Onoda yet, although arguably there wasn’t really much of a need for him to. They hadn’t specified any boundaries for their game so Manami could fly literally anywhere he wanted to escape, and that was assuming that Onoda could get near him in the first place.

But...

If Onoda had read the situation correctly, Manami wanted Onoda to catch up to him. He wanted to enjoy their game, and he probably wouldn’t if Onoda didn’t manage to put up a decent fight.

Manami wanted a challenge, and he wanted to see what Onoda was capable of.

So Onoda would do his best to give it to him.

Several meters ahead, Manami doubled back once more to observe Onoda’s progress, and there was no mistaking the happiness in his eyes when he was forced to quickly reorient himself and dodge swiftly out of the way to avoid being tagged (or run into) by Onoda as he flew past.

“Not bad!” Manami laughed, bell-like as he circled around Onoda just outside his reach. “You’re quicker than I thought you’d be.”

But Onoda wasn’t done yet. Despite Manami’s words and his impressed tone, it was obvious that he was still not really trying. He wasn’t attempting to escape yet, seemingly more interested in playing a game of keep-away with Onoda at the moment. If Onoda made a movement towards him, Manami would playfully mimic the motion in the opposite direction, keeping several feet between them at all times without allowing the distance to increase or decrease the tiniest amount.

For awhile it seemed as if they’d be stuck like that forever (or at least until the timer ran out), but as Onoda leaned in further and prepared to put on a burst of speed that could possibly allow him to bridge the gap between himself and Manami, a look of sudden comprehension flickered across the other boy’s face and he shot up several feet suddenly, leaving Onoda grasping at thin air.

It was then that Onoda realized that he had forgotten that there were directions that Manami could go to evade him other than those on the horizontal plane.

“Nice!” Manami praised, leaning down to address Onoda cheekily. “You nearly had me that time!”

Onoda had been nowhere close, and he knew that very well. Manami was still more than in control of the game.

He was a better flyer than Onoda, certainly, but that couldn’t be helped. All Onoda could do was keep pursuing and do his best to keep up with whatever Manami might decide to throw at him, because he strongly suspected that he would be challenged again before their time ran out.

Sure enough, Manami soon became bored of their game of cat-and-mouse, and the teasing look on his features shifted into something more anticipatory. He shot a quick grin at Onoda and, without any other warning, flew off in the direction of the nearest set of goalposts.

The implication was clear: Onoda was to follow, if he could.

Gritting his teeth with determination, Onoda accelerated, keeping the black-and-green figure in his sights. Taking a leaf out of Naruko’s book, Onoda attempted to stay as close to the handle of his broom as possible to increase his speed, and against all odds it seemed to be having an effect. He was getting closer to Manami-- slowly, but surely.

Onoda was beginning to realize that while Manami was a skilled flyer with obvious grace and good reflexes, he was actually not particularly fast. Imaizumi and Naruko, while lacking whatever airy quality made his flying so light, would both probably be able to beat Manami in a flat-out race.

That wasn’t to say he was slow-- he was still on average considerably faster than Onoda, but...

Maybe catching up to him wouldn't actually be impossible.

Manami executed a neat curve when he reached the line of goalposts, weaving through them effortlessly and emerging safely on the other end. Onoda followed with considerably less finesse, and he didn’t quite manage to loop around each pole in perfectly even arcs like Manami had done, but he managed to avoid hitting them, at least.

But most importantly, he kept up, and the knowledge that he had successfully evaded an attempt to throw him off made his heart pound with excitement. He couldn’t help but smile as he turned his gaze back on where Manami was flying up ahead, because he was continuing to draw nearer, but also because he was pleasantly surprised in a way he certainly hadn’t anticipated.

This was fun.

Flying with Manami, keeping pace with him, and trying to the best of his abilities to catch him was fun. It was exciting in a way that no sport Onoda had ever attempted had been (and somewhere in the back of his mind he wondered why that was), and suddenly everything Naruko and Imaizumi had been telling him about the so-called ‘wonders of flying’ made sense.

Onoda was also beginning to understand why Manami laughed so unabashedly when he flew.

As if sensing the realization taking place in Onoda’s mind at that very moment, Manami glanced back and smiled at him. Onoda, exhilarated, could do little more than offer a smile of his own in return.

Manami didn’t say anything, but he wordlessly altered his course, taking them in the direction of the spectator stands Onoda had watched the Quidditch game from earlier, and Onoda adjusted his own steering to match. They both increased their speed in the open air as they approached the structure, and by now Onoda was close, perhaps even less than a broom-length behind Manami. Onoda suspected that if he were to reach out he would nearly be able to touch the bristles of Manami’s broom in front of him.

Onoda was reminded of Makishima’s battle with Toudou for the Snitch, and he felt his heart skip a beat with excitement.

When they reached the stands, Manami, unsurprisingly, made to circle around them. Onoda prepared to follow, but it was only after he did so that Manami made his true intentions clear, once again utilizing the gravity-defying climb that had successfully allowed him to evade Onoda earlier. Momentarily thrown, Onoda struggled to regain his bearings as Manami flew higher, putting more and more distance between the two of them.

Once he had reoriented himself, however, Onoda wasted no time in following.

It turned out that, as they were climbing and even after they had leveled out again, Onoda seemed to actually have something of an advantage, because somehow he was still managing to keep on Manami’s tail. It was taking him a while to make up for the distance he had lost when Manami had pulled his feint, but he was still catching up.

Manami, strangely, didn’t seem too alarmed about the fact that Onoda was actually close to catching up to him, and that this high in the air, there were no more obstacles he could use to his advantage like there had been nearer to the ground. All Onoda had to do now was put on enough speed, and it wouldn’t matter if he wasn’t able to turn sharply or stop himself-- he would catch Manami before he had the slightest chance to evade him.

Onoda once again found himself within arm’s reach of Manami’s broom... then his head was level with the bristles, then his shoulders....

And finally they were nearly even with each other, and Onoda made his move.

“Caught you!” he exclaimed, reaching out to tag Manami--

But in that moment, two things happened:

A strong wind tailwind picked up, blowing Onoda’s hair into his eyes and momentarily distracting him from his quarry...

...and Onoda’s hand encountered nothing but the air in front of him, because Manami had disappeared from that spot as if he’d never been there in the first place.

Glancing wildly around and wondering what had happened, Onoda had easily spotted Manami flying several meters ahead of him once again, which at least answered one question that Onoda had, but opened up yet another in it’s place.

How had he gotten that far away, and how had he done it so quickly?

Onoda was disturbed from these thoughts by the sound of a chiming melody coming from somewhere nearby, and he distractedly wondered what was causing it. It sounded something like one of those old-fashioned music boxes Onoda could remember his grandmother collecting (back when he had been very small, and she had been alive), but he couldn’t figure out why he would be hearing something like that in the middle of a Quidditch Pitch.

At least, he was confused until Manami stopped and pulled out the pocket watch he had set earlier and the sound of the music became much more distinct. He tapped a button on the side of the watch and the music cut off abruptly.

With that final piece of evidence, Onoda finally made the connection: the music was to indicate that the timer Manami had set earlier had reached the end of its countdown. Their five-minute game of tag was over, and Onoda, despite his best efforts, had failed to catch Manami even once.

Onoda felt his stomach clench in disappointment.

Really, he reasoned, he shouldn’t be surprised that this was the outcome of their match-- Manami was an excellent flyer, and Onoda was still a raw beginner. It would have been stranger if Onoda had somehow won their game, since Onoda had never won anything in his entire life and it wouldn’t make sense for him to suddenly start now.

It was just... for a while, it had seemed like he could possibly catch up, so maybe he’d let it get to his head. Maybe he’d wanted to catch up--wanted to impress Manami so much that his mind had exaggerated how well he was doing, and all along he’d been barely keeping up, only keeping in the peripherals of the game because Manami had felt sorry for him and had slowed his pace to match--

“That was amazing, Sakamichi!”

Onoda looked up and saw Manami coming towards him, the airy smile back on his face. Onoda attempted to return his smile, but he knew that it looked shaky and wrong.

“I’m landing now, do you want to come with me?” Manami continued graciously, and Onoda nodded, following him on their slow descent back to the ground.

Manami immediately sat down on the grass, directing his smile up at Onoda and extending his hand as if in invitation.

“So,” Manami said brightly as Onoda settled onto the ground next to him. “I guess this answers a question that I’ve had about you.”

“And... what’s that?” Onoda asked, reluctant to meet Manami’s eyes. For all that Manami seemed his usual friendly self, it was also possible that he was just skilled at covering negative emotions.

And it would kill Onoda if he were to look at Manami’s face and read disappointment in his features.

“Well, for someone who’s terrified of heights, you’re quite the daring flyer,” Manami commented lightly, causing Onoda to look up, startled. “But really, when you were flying today the height didn’t bother you at all, did it?”

“I was...” Onoda realized. “You’re right, I was--”

“--You were so focussed on winning that you even forgot to be afraid of falling,” Manami said, blue eyes dancing delightedly. “I suspected it before but now I’m sure of it-- you really are something else, Sakamichi.”

Onoda flushed red at the unexpected praise. Manami was right, he realized-- the thought of falling had barely crossed his mind over the course of their game, although thinking back on some of the moves he’d attempted in midair now... Onoda blanched with fear.

Apparently Onoda had managed to catch up to Manami and stick to him fairly successfully despite repeated attempts to shake him off, even following him into maneuvers that would certainly have terrified him if he’d actually been thinking about it at the time. Until now, Onoda had had no idea he was capable of doing such things.

Although Manami wasn’t entirely right about the other part.

The thought of beating Manami, of winning their contest hadn’t been Onoda’s main focus at all. For one brief moment he almost admitted the truth, I wasn’t really focused on winning, just on catching you, but it took only a fraction of a second for him to decide that that would be a very strange thing to say and would probably only make the situation awkward.

“It wasn’t that amazing, really,” Onoda protested weakly, rather than relay what he was actually thinking. “I just got distracted--”

“And then you nearly caught me in the end, too! I’m sure it was your first time trying anything that difficult but you took to it so easily,” the Slytherin boy said, sounding utterly delighted. “You might not have won, Sakamichi, but because you’re so incredible I’ll tell you why I’m not in any of your classes despite that.”

Onoda looked at Manami excitedly, his troubled thoughts banished instantly. “Really?” he asked, scarcely able to believe his luck.

“Yeah, why not?” Manami grinned conspiratorially, lowering his voice as if preparing to share some great secret. “So there’s actually a good reason why I’m not in any of your classes, Sakamichi. It’s actually because...”

Onoda leaned forward in anticipation.

“... I’m skipping,” Manami whispered.

Onoda blinked, startled by the revelation. Or rather, startled by the utter mundanity of the answer compared to what he had been expecting. Or especially when compared to the ghost story he’d been told earlier.

“You’re skipping.”

Manami nodded brightly.

“Wh... what do you mean you’re ‘skipping’?” Onoda asked again, wondering briefly if he’d misheard.

“I’m skipping class,” Manami said cheerfully, throwing the words out with a carelessness that surprised Onoda despite the fact that he had come to expect a similar attitude from him in other areas. “Playing hooky, truant... you know what I mean. That’s why I’m not in any of your classes. I guess you could say I am supposed to be in classes with you sometimes, I just don’t usually go to them.”

“Why not, though?” Onoda asked, confused. “Do you get in trouble for it? And don’t you need to know stuff from your lessons in order to pass your tests?”

“I haven’t gotten in trouble yet,” Manami said, flopping down to lie on his back. “Except from Mr. Kanzaki, I guess-- he gets annoyed when I borrow brooms in the morning and keep them all day instead of returning them and going to class, but it hasn’t stopped him from lending them to me yet,” he continued, shrugging. “And I suppose that is the general idea--that if you don’t attend class you’ll do poorly on your exams, I mean. It’s okay though... I haven’t failed yet, and I have a friend who gives me her notes and tells me when we have assignments. She gets mad at me a lot for skipping class though, so sometimes I show up to make her feel better.”

“Do you not like school?” Onoda asked curiously. As someone who had done poorly in every subject he’d attempted since coming to Hogwarts, he could understand why someone might be tempted to just not go to them after awhile, but the thought of skipping had never actually been a consideration for him. He wondered why it was different for Manami.

“Hmm... no, I really don’t,” Manami said, pursing his lips distastefully. “I don’t like being stuck inside, having to sit still and think about names and dates and ingredients and which words make which spell happen. I especially don’t like being stuck on the ground. Staying in the castle and going to class and only going to flying lessons once a week feels like being trapped in a cage. The only time I actually feel free is when I’m on a broom, and the rest of the time is just... really dull. I hate it.”

“I understand, I think,” Onoda said, then hurried to clarify. “Not that I’m the same, I mean, I just... get why you feel that way, sort of. I actually had fun flying with you today, and if that’s even a fraction of what you feel every time you’re on a broom then I can see why you’d like it so much. If I were a bit braver and not so afraid of falling then I’d probably think that heights made me feel free too.”

Manami’s mouth quirked up slightly as if Onoda had said something unintentionally funny.

“What is it?” Onoda hazarded to ask.

“Nothing really,” Manami said, his expression thoughtful. “I just think... that I would actually sort of like it. Falling.”

“Really?” Onoda asked hesitantly.

“Yeah. Can’t you imagine what it would be like?” Manami said, and Onoda heard a peculiar sort of wistfulness in his voice that bothered him in some small, creeping way that he couldn’t entirely explain.

“Not really,” Onoda replied at length. “I mean, I can guess, but it’s never happened before so I can’t exactly say for sure. But... I think I’d prefer to keep it that way. If you fell off your broom wouldn’t you... you know, die?”

“Hmm... maybe?” Manami said, plucking a blade of grass idly. “Maybe not. But I wasn’t talking about hitting the ground, either, just the falling part. I think that in those seconds you spend in the air with the wind rushing past your face and nothing to hold you up would be perfect-- the truest feeling of freedom you could ever experience. If that were the case, I think whatever happened after would be worth it, don’t you?”

“Uh... no, I can’t say I do,” Onoda said honestly-- and honestly a bit worried on Manami’s behalf. “I mean, I’m supposed to go home in a few weeks for Christmas so if I was... dead I wouldn’t make it and my mom would probably be really upset. And I don’t know people here all that well yet, but Imaizumi and Naruko are both....“ Onoda hesitated. “Well, they’re really great but they don’t get along well and if I wasn’t there then someone else would have to make sure they don’t overdo it whenever they fight. I don’t think it’s worth it if I just do whatever I want knowing that it’ll make them unhappy. It wouldn’t be fair to them at all.”

Manami looked at Onoda consideringly as he rolled the grass he’d picked between his fingers, and although he was still smiling there was something darker in the set of his brow. “You’re very thoughtful of other people,” he said. “And you’re very kind, but I think you might also be misunderstanding me. I don’t want to die, of course. If anything, it’s the opposite. I just want to feel alive.”

“O-oh. Alright then,” Onoda stuttered, not feeling reassured by this clarification in the slightest, but also recognizing that this was obviously personal to Manami and it really wasn’t his place to pry into that. If Manami really wanted him to know, he would tell him. “Maybe I don’t understand as well as I thought then,” he said, forcing a smile and hoping it would be enough to change the subject into something that was slightly less worrisome in nature.

Thankfully, Manami took the bait-- or at least he seemed to, because his smile lost its darker undertones and suddenly seemed a bit more genuine than it had before. He suddenly seemed more like the odd, but friendly boy who had tossed candy wrapper messages at Onoda and laughed about it again and less like a total stranger whose smiles were vaguely disconcerting.

“You’re interesting,” Manami declared unexpectedly, tossing away what was left of the bit of grass he’d been playing with. “Despite your appearance and whatever you say about yourself, you’re nearly unshakeable, aren’t you?”

“What?” Onoda asked, startled (and for some inexplicable reason, embarrassed).

“I like your flying,” Manami said, appearing not to have noticed Onoda’s surprised squawk. “I think it’s because it’s not enough just to fly for you, there has to be another reason. Something you want badly enough that you’ll be able to work past your fear to get it-- so like today, I guess you just have to keep wanting to win that much.”

There might have been something to what Manami had said, but it sounded like he was still assuming that Onoda’s newfound ability to not embarrass himself on a broomstick came from some kind of “competitive spirit,” so Onoda decided not to put too much stock in it. He actually felt kind of guilty for not discouraging Manami’s incorrect opinion of him earlier, because now it seemed like Manami had cultivated an image of Onoda that was... not entirely true to life.

But the worst part is Manami seemed to like this impression of Onoda, and called him things like “interesting” and “unshakeable,” which were two words Onoda had never dreamed might be applied to himself. He had wanted to impress Manami and it seemed like he had succeeded, but he still couldn’t shake the feeling that Manami might be less impressed the more he learned about what Onoda was actually like.

Onoda just smiled shakily. “T-thank-you, I’m very flattered by your high opinion of me, Mana-- Sangaku,” he said. “I had fun meeting with you today and I especially enjoyed flying with you, but... but I promised Imaizumi and Naruko that I’d be back at the castle in time to eat lunch with them so I really should get going now.”

Onoda picked up his broom again, hoping he didn’t look like he was running away as much as he felt like he was.

“You should come fly with me again when you get the chance, Sakamichi,” Manami said before he could leave, smiling up at him with his hair spread out on the grass like a halo and a beatific smile on his face. “I had a lot of fun, too.”

The way he said that last part sounded so genuine that Onoda, despite his many insecurities, couldn’t help but smile back. “I’ll try my best,” he promised.

He thought that he might actually mean it too.

***

As if his day hadn’t been strange enough already, Onoda entered the Great Hall after parting with Manami only to be greeted by an unexpected sight.

Imaizumi and Naruko were sitting together.

Onoda had anticipated that he would find them each either sitting at their own tables (or if they had to be at the same table they would be sitting at least several meters away from each other so nobody assumed they were sitting together) but apparently this wasn’t the case.

Imaizumi and Naruko were actually sitting next to each other , and they didn’t appear to be fighting, either. Their heads were even tucked close together, one raven and one red, and they appeared to be having some sort of whispered conversation-- the image of two people who were getting along well. It was, admittedly, also entirely possible they were just having the world’s quietest argument, but Onoda was tentatively hopeful that the lack of physical violence meant they were actually making progress towards becoming friends.

Maybe Onoda had been flattering himself needlessly when he had told Manami that Imaizumi and Naruko needed him to keep them from fighting each other too much.

“Uh... hi, guys,” Onoda said as he approached, thinking that it was a shame to have to interrupt their moment of apparent tranquility. “Sorry I’m a bit late, I got caught up with something.”

Imaizumi and Naruko both snapped to attention, turning to face Onoda with identical expressions of surprise and...

...was that guilt?

Onoda didn’t have long to ponder over it, because Naruko suddenly decided to take the initiative to spring from his seat and throw himself into Onoda’s arms, nearly sending them both sprawling onto the ground in the process.

“Welcome back, Sakamichiiii!” Naruko exclaimed, trapping Onoda in a fierce hug. “Everything will be okay from now on, I promise. Me and even that dumb hotshot will make sure sure of it, so you don’t have to be upset anymore--”

“You can start by not attacking him the moment he steps in the room, you idiot,” Imaizumi snapped. “And I literally just got done telling you not to blurt out everything--”

“Yeah, well you’re doing a fine job not blurting out everything yourself, hotshot, we all know you wouldn’t know how to keep a secret if it bit you in the ass!”

“This argument is juvenile and I refuse to contribute to it, but I just want you to appreciate the hilarity of someone like you telling someone like me that,” Imaizumi bit out dangerously. “Your consistent inability to keep your mouth shut is the main reason why no one will ever trust you with any piece of important information in your lifetime.”

“Wow, Imaizumi, I almost couldn’t hear you over the sound of how incredibly juvenile that statement was,” Naruko said. “At least I’m trying to be supportive-- meanwhile, you’re just sitting off to the side making rude comments, which I understand is a proud pureblood tradition and all but you’re making this about you instead of Sakamichi, and--”

“Who’s making what about me?” Onoda asked, confused.

Naruko immediately shut up, drawing back from Onoda almost as quickly as he had arrived. He grinned as toothily as ever, but there was something slightly off about it. “What? Nah, you must’ve misheard me or something, Sakamichi.”

Naruko and Imaizumi exchanged a glance, and Onoda was even more confused.

“Nevermind that, though, you must be hungry,” Imaizumi said abruptly, pointing at the seat next to him that Naruko had just vacated. “Come and sit with us please,” he said in a distinctly formal tone.

As he sat down, Onoda wondered briefly if he had missed something important in the short amount of time he had spent with Manami, because since they had parted after the Quidditch match his friends had apparently ceased to make any sort of sense whatsoever.

“I appreciate the thought, Shoukichi, Shunsuke,” Onoda attempted. “But isn’t lunch over now? I’m sorry, I was out a bit longer than I thought I would be and--”

“Oh please, just who do you think your friends are?” Naruko asked, taking a seat on rather than at the table as he dug through his bag, making a triumphant noise as he retrieved a sloppy napkin-wrapped bundle and placed it expectantly in front of Onoda.

Onoda opened the wrappings somewhat tentatively and was relieved to see that they contained nothing more alarming than two slightly squashed-looking Cornish pasties. He felt bad for having worried that it might be something... suspicious, but his friends were acting kind of strangely and he never really knew what to expect from them.

“I can’t believe you just threw them in your bag,” Imaizumi said, eyes narrowing with disgust. “And why are you sitting up there-- get down this instant, we eat off this table.”

“Fight me,” Naruko said, unperturbed and making no move to do as Imaizumi had asked.

“Oh for-- you wouldn’t be doing this if we were sitting at the Gryffindor table!”

“Well someone refused when I suggested we sit at my... what was it... my house's 'filthy, germ-covered' table,” Naruko said, smiling nastily. “So maybe you should’ve thought of that in the first place, hotshot.”

“Guys,” Onoda said wearily, and Imaizumi and Naruko immediately ceased bickering once again. “Thanks for saving me something,” he said simply, not wanting to waste his breath pleading for them to get along.

He took a bite out of the first pasty-- it was cold, but he hadn’t really expected anything different. He ate in peace for a few moments before it occurred to him to wonder why he was able to eat in peace in the first place, his friends being who they were, and glanced up to see what they were doing.

They were glaring at each other (unsurprisingly), but there seemed to be more... intent behind it than there usually was. Naruko was making tiny, harassed gestures with his hands every so often, usually toward Onoda, and Imaizumi’s own glare was growing progressively more incredulous until he slapped his own forehead in annoyance and, seemingly having made a decision, turned to Onoda.

“Sakamichi...” he began awkwardly, faltering a bit when he noticed Onoda already watching him but continuing on nonetheless. “There’s actually something that we-- that Naruko and I have been meaning to discuss with you. May I speak candidly?”

Onoda frowned, confused again by Imaizumi’s formal tone, but he nodded, since Imaizumi seemed to be under the impression he needed Onoda’s permission to speak at all.

“Alright, thank you,” Imaizumi said, taking a deep breath. “Now then, how should I put this.... I have been making a point of observing your behaviour recently.”

“Oh... okay?”

“Oh my god, hotshot, only you could make this sound so creepy. Tell me again why you’re the one who’s explaining this--”

“I’ve been observing your behaviour lately,” Imaizumi repeated, speaking over top of Naruko’s complaints and shooting him an irritated look as he did so, “particularly with regard to your attitude towards flying and Quidditch, and what I’ve seen has not been entirely reassuring. I am concerned for you.”

“Imaizumi....” Naruko said with a glare.

“...We are concerned for you.”

Onoda glanced between his friends, wondering what had brought this on. “I... appreciate the thought, but I really don’t have any idea what you’re talking about.”

“It’s okay, Sakamichi,” Naruko said, plopping down onto the bench next to Onoda and wrapping a comforting arm around his shoulders. “You don’t have to hide it from us... we know learning all of this magic stuff hasn’t been easy and you’re being pressured to do all sorts of things you’ve never had to do before, and let me tell you, the last thing we want to do is put even more pressure on you.”

“What--”

“Both Naruko and I already know that you’re afraid of flying,” Imaizumi said, meeting Onoda’s eyes seriously. “That is why, to my understanding, we have been attempting to help you learn how. We thought that if you increased your competence at flying and became more comfortable with heights, you would be happier and free to pursue more challenging interests, like Quidditch-- which, until recently, we had been under the impression you were also interested in playing provided you improved at flying first.”

“But then, I’ve been noticing it a bit more lately that you never really seem interested whenever the topic of Quidditch comes up,” Naruko said, and Onoda knew his disinterest must have been very obvious if even Naruko had picked up on it. “And you were acting really weird after the Quidditch match, like you were trying to get away from us or something, so we talked about it and realized you were probably really upset about something.”

Onoda remembered the way Imaizumi had said, “take as long as you need,” when Onoda had mentioned wanting to be alone. Onoda had just wanted to see Manami, of course, but if Imaizumi and Naruko had already thought he was upset then in hindsight it must have looked like Onoda wanted to be alone for a completely different reason.

“Did you think I needed time alone so that I could... cry?” Onoda asked awkwardly. “About Quidditch?”

“No, of course not!” Naruko said, entirely unconvincingly as he gave Onoda’s shoulder a reassuring squeeze.

This was one conversation Onoda had never foreseen himself having with his friends.

Then again, he hadn’t really foreseen himself having friends, either, so he was flying blind at this point.

“Sakamichi,” Imaizumi said, “I think it’s important for you to know that Naruko and I both consider you to be our friend completely outside of our interest in flying and Quidditch. If the reason why you’ve been pushing yourself to do something that makes you uncomfortable and trying to appear interested in things that you don’t enjoy is for our sake, then I want you to know that it is completely unnecessary and you don’t have to force yourself any longer.”

Onoda blinked. “Do you really mean that?”

“Of course!” Naruko exclaimed, looking almost offended at Onoda’s apparent doubt. “You do realize that if you were to decide right now that you never want to fly again and that you hate Quidditch with a passion, then we would still keep being your friends, don’t you? So don’t worry about flying or anything like that if you don’t want to, because we’ll stick with you no matter what.”

They were both staring at him with obvious determination in their eyes, and Onoda was rendered momentarily speechless.

It boggled Onoda’s mind how his friends could have perfectly grasped what his feelings toward flying and Quidditch had always been but had still managed to get it so wrong at the same time.

Onoda had been afraid of how Imaizumi and Naruko might react if they realized that he wasn’t truly interested in learning to fly or couldn’t ever foresee himself playing Quidditch with them. The question had lingered in the back of his mind since he had first met them and it had not disappeared once in the time since. It had faded, however, as they spent more time together, to the point where hearing definitively now that they would continue to be his friends even if he never learned to love flying the way they did felt like a reassurance, but not like the fulfillment of an impossible dream.

They had definitely become closer as friends, and maybe something about Onoda had changed too.

Because they were wrong about one thing: the Quidditch game hadn’t upset him. It had been terrifying in its own way, sure, but... he had enjoyed it as well. He’d definitely held his breath when Makishima and Toudou had battled for possession of the Snitch, but it hadn’t been entirely fear that had caused that reaction-- there had been excitement, too.

And then there had been his contest against Manami afterward, and Onoda had actually flown well. Manami had been impressed and had complimented him, saying that Onoda only needed a reason to fly if he wanted to work past his fear.

Onoda was surprised to find that today, for the first time in a long time, he actually felt good about himself. He had flown successfully, enjoyed himself doing it, and he was beginning to understand that he wasn’t ready to let that feeling go just yet.

And if that wasn’t enough, he was also lucky enough to have two very good friends who worried about him, saved him food when he missed a meal and were willing to put aside their own differences to try and figure out how best to help him feel better.

Imaizumi and Naruko both loved flying and Onoda wanted to fly with them. He was sure that that was enough of a “reason,” like Manami had described.

“Thank-you, Shoukichi, Shunsuke... you two are the best friends I could have ever asked for,” Onoda said honestly, looking at each of his friends in turn, feeling momentarily overwhelmed by how lucky he was to have met them. His eyes prickled, but he was determined not to cry, even if it was out of happiness. “And about what you said before, about how you’ll still be friends with me even if I quit flying... I think I know what I want now. So I think... I want to try out for the Hufflepuff Quidditch team next year.” Onoda paused, then asked, suddenly unsure, “Do you think I can be ready in time?”

Imaizumi and Naruko both stared at him with open shock, Imaizumi’s eyes bulging comically as Naruko’s jaw dropped in outright disbelief.

After several incredulous seconds, Naruko launched himself at Onoda again, cackling as he delightedly wrapped Onoda up in another hug, “Kakaka! Like there’s any doubt-- you’ll definitely be ready by then, Sakamichi, we’ll make sure of it! By the time we’re done with you’ll be the most terrifying thing in the sky and no one will stand in your way!”

“Except for you and me, idiot-- we’ll still all be on different teams,” Imaizumi said in a scathing voice, but there was a a real honest-to-goodness smile on his face which negated the effect entirely. “You’re sure this is what you want?” he asked Onoda in a quieter voice, watching his face closely for any hint that he might be hiding his true feelings.

Onoda smiled at him, nodding. “I’m sure.”

After carefully observing him, doubtless measuring his sincerity, Imaizumi eventually inclined his head in acquiescence. “Alright, then. The one who knows what’s best for you is you, after all, and I’ll help out however I can.” He smirked. “Or rather, I’ll help you until we meet in a match. Then I’m afraid you’ll be on your own, Sakamichi.”

Surprisingly, the idea didn’t fill him with quite the dread Onoda thought it should. It was hard to consider either Imaizumi or Naruko to be opponents because for the time being, they were just his friends. And when they did finally compete in a match....

Well, maybe by then Onoda would have finally caught up to them.

***

That evening, as the three friends ate dinner together (at the Gryffindor table this time) Onoda asked in a deliberately casual voice, “Hey, Shunsuke, do you know if there was a particular incident that made first-years not allowed to play Quidditch? Like an accident or something?”

Imaizumi frowned. “I think a pureblood kid sprained his finger on a Quaffle and his father threatened to sue the school? It was something like that, anyway. Why?”

“Nothing,” Onoda muttered, going back to mutilating his broccoli with his fork. “Just making sure.”

Chapter Text

Dear Sakamichi,

I remember that Mr. Kanzaki mentioned something about owls delivering mail for wizards when he stopped by our house that one time, but I had completely forgotten about it until I came downstairs this morning to find this fierce-looking lady waiting by the window! I was a bit shocked at first, I have to admit, but when she raised her leg so I could see she had a letter and I quickly realized that strange owls carrying letters in broad daylight probably had something to do with that magic school you went off to. I opened the window to let her in, and I saw that I had been right, and the letter was from you!

Psyche (what a lovely name-- her owner must be a real poet!) is very calm and well-behaved for what I had initially believed would be a vicious creature. She must also be very smart as well, to have managed to find me and deliver a letter right to my door despite never having seen this place before now. How exactly does that work, Sakamichi? I know pigeons can carry messages sometimes so do owls work the same way? How did she know how to find me? Did someone teach her how street addresses work or did she know the way magically? I have many questions, but in the meantime I’ll just give her this letter and hope that she understands how to do her job better than I do.

That business with the owl aside, I am happy to hear that your classes are interesting (they sound much more interesting than mathematics, that much is certain), but even if the things you’re learning seem strange or gross you should make sure to work hard at them! Hogwarts may be an unusual school but it is still school and your performance now may have a huge impact on your career options in the future. Maybe you could get offered a job someday that will require you to have had good grades in your Potions or History classes, and if that happens you’ll definitely regret it if you don’t put in that effort now!

I’m interested in what you said about learning to fly with a magic broomstick. How has that been going? You’re very lucky to be able to learn to fly (it sounds very relaxing!).

I am happy you have made friends, Sakamichi. They sound very kind, and I’m sure you made a good decision in choosing to befriend them. You should introduce them to me sometime. In the meantime, I hope they have been and will continue keeping you out of trouble.

Things have been pretty much the same as always here. I’m doing fine, and I’m continuing to get more than enough hours at my jobs to pay the bills so there is no need for you to be distracted by worrying about me. I noticed that the cafe just a few blocks over from us (the one that makes the blueberry pie I like, you know the one) is hiring, though, so I might try applying for a position there just on the offhand chance. If I do get offered the job and the hours and pay are decent I might consider quitting my job at the supermarket and working there instead. It is a nice place and I think it would make for a pleasant change of pace to work somewhere new.

I have many more things I would like to say (or ask) as well, but I think this will do for now. After all, it must have been hard work for poor Psyche to fly all the way from Hogwarts to here, and the last thing I want to do is make her job more difficult by writing a huge letter for her to carry back. But you’ll be back here soon anyways, and we can talk all we want then.

Good luck with your classes Sakamichi! And have fun!

--Mom

Onoda smiled to himself, tucking the letter back into its envelope. He could practically hear his mother’s tone throughout her message, at times chastising, and openly curious and enthusiastic at others. It was a good thing he would be going home for Christmas soon, because even just reading a letter from his mother made him miss her more.

“So no bad news, I take it?” Imaizumi asked, catching Onoda’s small smile out of the corner of his eye.

Onoda shook his head. “No, she seems... pretty much the same as ever,” he said. “She talked a lot more about me-- and about your owl, actually-- than she did about herself. She’s always like that though, so I didn’t really expect otherwise. She did mention that she might try to get a better job soon, though. I hope that goes well.”

“Hn. That’s good, then,” Imaizumi said distractedly, making a valiant attempt to indicate that he was actually listening to Onoda’s answer before his attention was inevitably drawn away. “You can write a reply if you want-- just give Psyche a day off to rest before sending it.”

“Okay, thank-you,” Onoda said, grateful for the offer. Truthfully he did really want to send back a letter, but he would have felt awkward and shy about asking and he was glad that Imaizumi had spared him that.

Although Imaizumi was focussed enough on other things that he probably wasn’t even aware he had just done Onoda a favour.

“Y’know, I had always assumed that Ravenclaws were supposed to be smart, Imai-zum-iiii,” Naruko drawled as he regarded his opponent from across the table, his chin in his hands and a savagely gleeful smile plastered across his face.

“Shut up!” Imaizumi snapped, cheeks reddening angrily. Spurred to action by the taunt, he determinedly selected one of his pieces and set it down with (perhaps not unwarranted) ferocity in its new position on the game board. “Let’s see how you deal with that,” he said, crossing his arms over his chest, the challenge apparent in his posture.

Naruko’s smile dimmed and he fell silent, gaze falling to the board to take stock of Imaizumi’s move and the current layout of the game pieces. Onoda found it almost uncanny how quickly his demeanor could change when he was this intently focussed on something. For someone as loud and relentlessly cheerful as Naruko, he was strangely quiet and serious as he surveyed the board, gnawing on his thumbnail while he considered his next move.

Imaizumi was also clearly thrown by Naruko’s sudden silences, as he still shifted uncomfortably in his seat and looked a little less confident in himself whenever they occurred despite having seen the same thing over the course of the last several games they had played.

Onoda didn’t know what had possessed him to make him think that getting Imaizumi and Naruko to play Gobstones together would be a safe and easy way for them to compete and work out their differences. It was true that putting a table between the two of them had placed them outside each other’s immediate striking range (provided their wands didn’t make an appearance, and they hadn’t yet, mercifully), but Onoda had automatically assumed that, as they were in flying, Imaizumi and Naruko would be fairly equally matched in terms of board game prowess. They were both from families with at least one magical parent so they had both been raised with the knowledge of what wizard board games were and how they worked, so Onoda had (foolishly) come to the conclusion that this meant they would be fairly even in terms of playing skill.

Onoda doubted he would have predicted this outcome anyways, though. If anything, he had been slightly concerned that Naruko wouldn’t be able to match Imaizumi, since the Ravenclaw boy was a good logical thinker and consistently got better grades than Naruko or Onoda did in class. There had been good reason to believe that Imaizumi would dominate at strategy games as well.

At least, this was what Onoda told himself to alleviate his own feelings of responsibility for what ensued.

Naruko’s broad grin made its reappearance as he finally determined his next move and, casting Imaizumi a smug look that made the taller boy bristle, he picked up one of his own pieces and placed it down again with an air of finality that set off alarm bells in Onoda’s head. “Gotcha again, hotshot.”

Imaizumi had excellent reflexes, but even he only had time to utter a quick curse and cover his eyes with one hand before all the pieces on the board sprayed him with a stinking liquid.

It had taken Onoda until the end of round one, in which Naruko had utterly decimated Imaizumi to realize that maybe it hadn’t just been his own lack of skill at the game that had allowed Naruko to beat him so handily when they had played together. In reality, even Imaizumi (who was undoubtedly a better opponent than Onoda) had yet to win against him even once.

Imaizumi slowly lowered his hand from his face, seething with fury, and Naruko burst out laughing.

“Pfffft-- oh my god you should see your face right now, hotshot. It’s just-- I can’t-- KAKAKA!” He laughed so hard he nearly fell backwards off the bench he was sitting on. “I can’t believe how much you suck at this! What have you even been doing all these years to not know how Gobstones works?”

Imaizumi slammed both hands down on the table, his lips white with fury. He looked like he was about to shout, but when his words came out, they were surprisingly quiet. “Play me again,” he demanded fiercely.

“D’you really think it’ll turn out any different if we play again?” Naruko asked, struggling to hold back a giggle. “Haven’t you had enough yet?”

“Play. Me. Again.” Imaizumi bit out, undeterred.

There was something that felt really off about Imaizumi in that moment, Onoda thought, a sense of unease creeping into his thoughts as he regarded the scene in front of him.

Naruko obviously thought that the whole situation was hilarious-- unsurprisingly, since he loved to win and loved to win against Imaizumi even more, but perhaps, like Onoda, he found it strange that someone supposedly as intelligent as Imaizumi would he so bad at a simple board game. But Naruko also didn’t have the benefit of knowing as much about Imaizumi’s home life as Onoda did, either. Naruko had grown up in a family who, according to what he had told Onoda, had cared a great deal about him and had tried to spend time with each other whenever they could. In contrast, Imaizumi’s parents seemed to have been distant at best, although Onoda thought that “absent” would perhaps be a better descriptor for their role in the life of their son.

Taking that into consideration, Onoda thought uncomfortably, it made perfect sense that Imaizumi wouldn’t be as good at a two-player children’s game as Naruko was. Imaizumi likely wouldn’t have been able to play with another person he even if he’d wanted to before he came to Hogwarts.

Onoda watched as Naruko began to set up the board again and Imaizumi relaxed slightly, perhaps reassured that Naruko had agreed to start a new game, although his shoulders remained hunched. A droplet of the foul liquid trickled down his cheek and he angrily wiped it away with the sleeve of his robe, his gaze not leaving the board for a second.

Watching made Onoda’s heart twist painfully, but he knew that it would be useless to try stepping in now. One thing he had learned about Imaizumi early on was that underneath his cool and collected exterior he was surprisingly... relentless. If he felt he had a score to settle, there was nothing anyone could do to make him let it go. The best that Onoda felt he could do was wait it out and hope that Imaizumi would be more reasonable once he’d accomplished whatever it was he set out to do.

“Why don’t you make the first move?” Naruko asked, chin once again resting in the palm of his hand as he watched Imaizumi out of the corner of his eye. It was a deliberately casual pose that Onoda was sure he had calculated specifically to rile his opponent up.

And it worked.

Imaizumi bit his lip, and, shaking with poorly-contained fury, placed down his first game piece. He didn’t say anything--but then again, he didn’t need to. For once, Onoda had no doubt whatsoever about what Imaizumi was thinking, and he wished that there was something he could do about it.

The idea didn’t strike Onoda, exactly. It started out as a tiny wayward thought and gradually took shape as he watched his friends’ game progress in much the same manner as the previous ones had. It was true that there wasn’t much Onoda could do to help Imaizumi in this situation, that didn’t mean he was incapable of helping him at all. And Onoda had been planning on writing back to his mom anyways. It would take no effort on his part to ask a question while he was at it.

Filled with a new resolve, Onoda pulled a fresh roll of parchment and his writing supplies out of his bag. This was not necessarily the best place to write out his letter (since Onoda had cause to believe that his side of the table would soon be doused in Gobstone juice again shortly), but he wanted to get his thoughts out on paper as soon as possible. He was even downright eager as he uncapped his ink bottle and prepared to write.

Part of Onoda (the more cautious, rational part) warned him not to get too ahead of himself since it was very likely that Imaizumi wouldn’t be interested in what Onoda was offering, since it was such a pitiful gesture and Imaizumi was still a pureblooded wizard (despite his alleged distaste for them) while Onoda was just a muggle-born, but he thought it would be worth it to make the suggestion anyways.

Imaizumi had helped Onoda a lot since they’d first met on the train, and he wanted to do something nice for him, too. Even if it was just this once.

***

The aftermath of the ill-fated Gobstones competition was understated but its effects lasted several days after the event itself was over.

In the end, Imaizumi had not managed to win a single game, and had finally ended his suffering by flicking some of his newest coating of Gobstone juice off his face and uttering a simple “I’m done,” in a misleadingly neutral-sounding voice.

By this point he had obviously regained enough control over his emotions to conceal them again, so if he was frustrated with this result (and Onoda could see no reason why he wouldn’t be), it was impossible to find some indication of it in his posture or expression. Surprisingly, even Naruko’s enthusiasm had been dampened by the lack of a reaction and he had been happy enough to agree to call it a day.

Except... no, that was a bit unfair to Naruko. He certainly enjoyed beating Imaizumi and seeing him get angry about it, but Onoda thought that even he seemed somewhat disappointed that Imaizumi hadn’t been able to win any ground in the end. There were a few moments where Onoda thought it looked like Naruko actually wanted Imaizumi to win, even if it was just for one round.

But for whatever the reason, Naruko didn’t tease Imaizumi too mercilessly afterward. Their constant arguing even decreased, although if it had occurred to Onoda that this was a good sign, he was sorely mistaken.

The main reason why they argued less was because Imaizumi began speaking less, to both Naruko and Onoda. He had never been a particularly talkative person, but Onoda had gotten used to him making idle conversation now and then, sharing his thoughts on certain topics during their classes or snapping something rude at Naruko when the Gryffindor boy was being particularly annoying. Imaizumi would still reply if someone actually asked him a direct question, but he rarely offered anything without being specifically addressed, which Onoda found to be worrisome.

It was during Potions class two days later that he finally summoned up the courage to ask him about it.

“Shunsuke,” Onoda said hesitantly as he measured out the correct weight of nettles, trying to look casual about the whole thing. “I was wondering if I could ask you something?”

Imaizumi looked up at him and blinked. He was in the process of adding his own nettles to his cauldron, stirring them in in a counterclockwise motion, every sweep calculated and precise. Onoda noted that his potion was exactly the shade of blue-violet that the professor had told them to expect at this stage if they had done everything correctly.

Onoda’s potion, meanwhile, had taken a definite step toward tangerine and (judging by the strange sounds it was making) possibly sentience as well. He would have to deal with it later, but at that moment Imaizumi was more important.

“Yes?” Imaizumi prompted.

“Oh! Well,” Onoda said, gathering his thoughts. “I was just wondering if there’s something... bothering you I guess?”

“Of course not. What gave you the idea that there might be?” Imaizumi asked, turning back to his potion and, after a moment’s consideration, adding an additional pinch of yarrow and stirring it in.

Onoda frowned as he watched Imaizumi’s back. “Nothing in particular-- you just seem a bit quieter than you usually do, I guess.”

“Thank you for your concern, but I’m fine,” Imaizumi said. “You, on the other hand, will find yourself to be considerably less fine if you don’t decrease the heat on your cauldron immediately.”

Onoda, at that exact moment, caught the scent of something burning and hastily turned back to his project, pulling his smoking cauldron off the fire. On the verge of panicking, he desperately waved his hat at it in an attempt to bank the flames that had ignited his potion.

“Here,” a wand was waved, and the flames vanished. Onoda whipped around and came face-to-face with Imaizumi, who was putting his wand away and picking up a mortar filled with the remains of some kind of white paste. “Fanning the fire would have only made it worse, idiot. And I’m assuming you forgot to add the mistletoe berries somewhere around the same time as you neglected to decrease the heat?”

“O-oh, you’re right!” Onoda realized, embarrassed that he’d not even gotten as far as grinding up the berries before being distracted by thoughts of how he would try to approach Imaizumi with his question.

“It’s no matter, if you add them now you should at least be able to salvage a passing grade with what you have now,” Imaizumi said as he carefully scraped out a small amount of the berry paste into Onoda’s cauldron. “Now put it back on the heat, and don’t let it go into a full boil like that again.”

“Okay, thank you,” Onoda said gratefully, putting the cauldron on the fire again. The potion seemed to be beginning to take on a blueish cast already-- Imaizumi was amazing.

“It was nothing,” Imaizumi said, turning back to his own cauldron. “Make sure you remember to stir it.”

Onoda nodded, forgetting briefly that Imaizumi couldn’t see him. “But really, thanks,” Onoda said. “And Shunsuke?”

“What?”

“If... if there’s something I can do to help, you can definitely tell me. I mean... there’s probably not much I’m able to do but I’ll do whatever I can, I promise.”

Imaizumi looked at him-- really looked at him for the first time that day. “I’m grateful for the offer,” he conceded, and his expression looked the tiniest bit gentler than it had been before. It almost looked like he was about to say something else, but he must have decided against it, because he closed his mouth, a frown written in the lines of his face. “But it is unnecessary,” he continued briskly, apparently deeming his potion stable enough to leave alone long enough to clean up his work station. “I’m perfectly fine.”

Onoda somehow doubted that, but in the face of such a clear refusal there wasn’t really anything else he could do.

At the end of class Imaizumi and Onoda handed in their potion phials for grading and exited the dungeon to find Naruko waiting for them. He was bouncing idly from one foot to another as he scanned the students passing by-- on any other day Imaizumi might have made a comment about excessive energy but today it looked like he was resolutely determined to ignore Naruko’s presence entirely.

Despite Imaizumi’s best efforts to avoid him, though, Naruko soon spotted them and his face brightened as he dashed over to his friends.

Or rather, his friend and whatever it was that he considered Imaizumi to be.

“Hey, Sakamichi! Oh, and you too, hotshot... almost didn’t see you there, you look too much like a angry coat rack from the side. And what’s with the long face, huh?” Naruko asked, smirking.

Clearly he had failed to read the situation, or there was no way Naruko would greet them by deliberately poking fun an already troubled Imaizumi.

But who was Onoda kidding-- of course he would.

“I’m not interested in doing this right now, Naruko,” Imaizumi said coolly.

“Whaaat? Doing what-- I’m not doing anything,” Naruko protested, sounding exactly like his usual self, although he glanced at Onoda questioningly as if looking for an explanation for Imaizumi’s behaviour from him.

Unfortunately, Onoda didn’t have one to give, and could only shrug.

Naruko frowned, and a stubborn look appeared on his face. “Hey, don’t tell me you’re still angry about getting your ass handed to you in Gobstones the other day.”

“Of course not,” Imaizumi snapped. “That would be childish and petty. I’m annoyed at you, because those two things seem to be your defining traits and I’m not particularly interested in being subjected to them right now.”

“That sounds more like the asshole Imaizumi I know,” Naruko said, and his ensuing smile looked strangely relieved. “But seriously, it would be really dumb if you were still mad about it. It’s just a stupid game and I play it with my brothers all the time, so I’m pretty much an expert at it! Greater players than you have lost to me! Next time we can play chess or something if you want--something nerdy and boring with no stinkspray penalty because that sounds like something you’d like. I’m still gonna beat the snot out of you, obviously, but--”

“Naruko.”

“What?”

“Shut up,” Imaizumi said.

“Fine, fine,” Naruko pouted, obviously put out by Imaizumi’s lack of further reaction, whether positive or negative. “Hey, Sakamichi!” Naruko said brightly, addressing Onoda this time. “You’re done with classes for the day, aren’t you?”

“Well... I do have a Potions essay to write on the importance of... following written instructions....” Onoda admitted, ashamed. The essay was actually a penalty assignment that had been given to them by the professor when he had handed in his overdone and, despite his best efforts, still slightly-orange potion sample at the end of class

“Psh, you can work on it later,” Naruko said dismissively. “Want to come flying with me? I was just thinking of heading out to get some practice, and you’ll be needing plenty of that too if you want to make your team next year!”

“Oh... okay,” Onoda said, and briefly wondered whether Manami would be on the Quidditch Pitch that day. His heart gave a surprising leap at the thought of seeing the Slytherin boy, and maybe even squeezing in a race with him again, too. “Yeah, sure-- I can practice with you, at least for a little while.”

“Kakaka, great! How about you, hotshot? Are you coming or are you just afraid I’ll beat you again?”

“It’s funny, but I can’t recall you beating me in flying,” Imaizumi said sharply, but even in his worst moods Onoda doubted he could resist the promise of Quidditch practice. “Fine. I’ll come too.”

Although he said it in the same put-upon tone of voice he often defaulted to whenever Naruko was involved, Onoda noticed that there was the tiniest flicker of something in Imaizumi’s eyes that had been missing for the past couple of days, and Onoda was reassured slightly despite himself. There was also the fact that Naruko had made an effort to deliberately include Imaizumi in their plans in the first place, and... yeah wow, that was a definitely new and not unwelcome change.

“Awesome--I’m glad you’re finally taking this inter-house rivalry thing seriously, hotshot,” Naruko said, wrapping an arm companionably around Onoda’s shoulders as they continued making their way down the corridor. For a second it looked like he wanted to do the same with Imaizumi, but he only got as far as raising his hand slightly before he reconsidered and withdrew, looking embarrassed. “But I’m still a better flyer than you are,” he said quickly, making a sloppy attempt at bravado to cover his momentary lapse in judgement.

Imaizumi gave no sign that he’s noticed anything-- possibly because he actually hadn’t. “So you say, but I’ve yet to see you back any of those claims up with hard evidence.”

“Whoaaa, asshole-Imaizumi seems to be back in full swing now,” Naruko said. Onoda thought he looked happy, though. “But really, you have to admit I was waaaay faster than you the last time we flew together.”

“Yes, I agree you hit that goalpost at quite an impressive speed last week.”

“Hey-- the only reason you saw that was because I was in front of you in the first place! You know, because you were losing.”

“Yeah, you definitely won the race to crash headfirst into the goalpost. That’s one competition I don’t feel particularly bad about losing, oddly enough.”

Onoda smiled to himself at the sight of his friends bickering together. Whatever this was, it was familiar and certainly preferable to Imaizumi stewing in grim silence. He still didn’t look completely comfortable, but this was a major improvement nonetheless.

Like all good things, though, it wasn't to last.

“You three again,” Kanzaki sighed when he opened the equipment room door to see Onoda, Imaizumi, and Naruko waiting expectantly on the steps. He sounded exasperated, but there was a smile on his face as he stood to one side and waved them in. “Somehow I’m not surprised. So let me guess, it’ll be three brooms for you kids today?”

“Um... yeah,” Onoda said, fidgeting. “But actually, we were wondering if it would be possible to borrow some Quidditch... stuff as well?”

Kanzaki regarded Onoda with a canny expression on his face that reminded him all-too vividly of Miki. “Oh, is that so? I’m surprised, I hadn’t been under the impression you were that comfortable in the air yet-- or that you even liked flying, honestly.”

Apparently Imaizumi and Naruko were not the only people who had noticed his flying... issues. He could only be thankful that Kanzaki, unlike his friends, apparently hadn’t deemed it necessary to also stage a public intervention on his behalf.

“I think I’ll be okay,” Onoda said, thinking of how he’d felt when he was flying with Manami. He was actually telling the truth this time-- he had managed to fly successfully once before, so he could do it again as many times as it took to become good at it.

He must have sounded confident enough to dispel Kanzaki’s concerns, because the Quidditch coach grinned at him, his customary toothpick clenched between his white teeth. “I’ll take your word for it, then-- but you two, Imaizumi and Naruko. Onoda’s still a beginner so it’ll still be your job to look out for him, understood?”

Imaizumi and Naruko glanced at each other tentatively and immediately looked away when they accidentally made eye contact. They both nodded (careful to avoid looking at each other as they did so) and Kanzaki looked satisfied.

“All right then,” he said, clapping his hands together. “Let’s see what we have around here.”

“So you’re actually going to lend us Quidditch balls?” Naruko exclaimed, looking as if Christmas had arrived early. “You’re the best, Mr. Kanzaki! Totally my favourite teacher!”

“Thank you, Mr. Naruko,” Kanzaki said in an amused voice as he rummaged through a large bin of unsorted sports equipment. “Although I can’t in good conscience lend you any Bludgers, I’m afraid-- I’m not in that huge of a hurry to lose my job, thank you very much. A Snitch is also out of the question-- they’re expensive and we only have a limited number, so I can’t risk you losing it. I have arm guards here, though, and let’s see... I know I had a couple of old Quaffles lying around, maybe some golfballs as well...” Kanzaki glanced up from his digging. “One of you can take a look in the cupboard at the back if you’d like.”

“I can do that,” Imaizumi said. “What am I looking for?”

“There should be a Quaffle or two in there that still have some air in them. Anything that isn’t either totally wrecked or one of the balls we save for practice or games.”

“Alright,” Imaizumi said, nodding and making his way to the closet door.

Onoda had been watching Kanzaki and Imaizumi, so he was startled when his attention happened to focus on Naruko and he found the redhead looking at him slyly, although he was grinning as he did so.

“Um... what is it?” Onoda asked, glancing once behind him to make sure there was nothing there that might be the true target of that look.

“Ah? Oh, nothing much, Sakamichi,” Naruko said, not in the least bit apologetic at having been caught staring. “I was just thinking that you were actually telling us the truth when you said that you wanted to get better at flying and join your house team now.”

“Did you think I was lying?” Onoda asked.

To be perfectly honest, he wasn't going to hold it against Imaizumi or Naruko if they initially doubted the sincerity of his newfound enthusiasm for flying, since for them the change would probably have seemed to come out of nowhere. It was only natural for them to be cautious.

Naruko shrugged. “Not really. To me it seemed like you were being honest with us, but it’s one thing to hear it and another to see it, I guess?”

“Oh,” Onoda said. “Yeah, I guess I can understand that.”

“And... don’t get me wrong, I’m really happy you’re happy, y’know, but I was also just thinking that I still don’t know what caused you to change your mind,” Naruko said.

That was an easy answer: Manami. Manami had happened.

Not that Onoda could say that to Naruko, though, since telling the truth about Manami would inevitably lead to Onoda having to also admit that Manami was a Slytherin. He was sure that particular detail wouldn’t go over well with either of his friends.

Another, smaller part of him wondered if some of his reluctance stemmed from a desire to keep Manami to himself, but this he dismissed as pure ridiculousness.

“Uh, it was nothing, really,” Onoda said, trying to sound casual. “I just... think I’m improving at a pretty good pace now, so I’m feeling more confident now, I guess?”

Onoda was sure that Naruko would see through him, would notice that something was up, but he only beamed and clapped Onoda on the shoulder. “That’s good to hear! So Sakamichi, have you thought about which position you might want to--”

They were interrupted by a wordless exclamation followed shortly by an almighty crash.

Onoda spent the ensuing frenzied seconds attempting to make sense of what had happened, although he quickly surmised that whatever had happened, it was nothing good. The crash had been a pile of broomsticks falling over after Imaizumi had apparently backed into them, falling to the ground himself in his haste to get away from-- what was that?

Where before there had been four people in the equipment room--Onoda himself, Kanzaki, Imaizumi, and Naruko-- there were now five.

The newcomer was a boy-- a younger boy, Onoda realized. He looked at least a couple of years too young to be at Hogwarts in the first place. The strangeness of his appearance didn’t end with his age, either. He was almost skeletally thin and wearing a dated-looking shirt and trousers that swamped his tiny body. His round eyes were sunken and dark, starkly contrasted against a pale and waxy complexion.

The boy’s gaze was fixed on Imaizumi, who sat on the floor where he had fallen, looking up at him in unrestrained horror.

“You-- what are you--”

A wide grin split the boy’s face, and what little colour had been in Imaizumi’s face drained out of it.

Onoda never found out what would have happened next, because Kanzaki was between them in an instant. “Riddikulus!” he shouted, waving his wand.

The boy-- or whatever it was, hopefully not a real human based on what happened next--exploded into a shower of dust, which escaped back into the darkness of the cupboard.

“I’m sorry about that, Imaizumi,” Kanzaki said apologetically, putting his wand away and closing the cupboard door, locking it this time. “I had no idea that there was a boggart hiding in here-- if I had, I wouldn’t have asked you to go anywhere near the cupboards. Are you alright?”

Imaizumi didn’t reply, and continued staring at the cupboard door as if terrified that it would open again.

“Um... what is a... boggart exactly?” Onoda asked Kanzaki quietly, still feeling slightly shaky from the experience. And if Onoda was affected, he could only imagine how Imaizumi was feeling right now.

“Oh?” Kanzaki said, casting Imaizumi--who still hadn’t spoken, or reacted much one way or another-- a worried glance.“Right, you’ve probably never seen one before, Sakamichi. A boggart is a magical creature that feeds on human fear. They’re shapeshifters-- they hide away in the dark and when they encounter humans they try to change themselves into whatever they think will scare their audience the most. ”

Onoda considered that. “So it... wasn’t a real person, was it?”

“No, just a boggart wearing the form it decided was most likely to scare us. Or, in this case, to scare one of us,” Kanzaki explained, keeping a careful eye on Imaizumi. “Boggarts are pests, mostly, but their tactics are more effective when there’s just one person to scare. That's why you never want to go up against one alone.”

It was then that Naruko proved once and for all his utter inability to read the mood.

“So... does this mean that the heir of the pureblooded Imaizumi family’s worst fear is a... what, an eight-year-old kid?” Naruko asked, unable to hold back a snicker. “Because I’ve gotta tell you, hotshot, that’s kind of--”

That was apparently what it took to get a reaction out of Imaizumi.

“SHUT THE FUCK UP!” Imaizumi shouted, dragging himself shakily off the floor and staring at Naruko, eyes wide with rage and-- Onoda’s heart twisted-- fear. “Don’t talk about it like you know anything!”

He made to storm out of the equipment room but before he made it even one step he stumbled over one of the brooms he’d knocked over earlier. He regained his footing wordlessly, although his face flushed, telling Onoda that he was anything but unaffected. Imaizumi continued on his way uncontested until he was outside the equipment room and the door was slamming shut behind him, at which point Naruko seemed to wake from a daze.

“Oh shit,” was all he said before yanking the door open and running off after Imaizumi.

And then it was only Onoda and Kanzaki in the equipment room, and the silence was deafening.

“I’d go after them if I were you,” Kanzaki said after a moment’s pause, raising an expectant eyebrow.

That was just the push that Onoda needed to needed to convince him to follow his friends.

Naruko was just in the process of catching up to Imaizumi as Onoda left the equipment room.

“Hey, hotshot,” Naruko said, dashing up and positioning himself right in front of Imaizumi, forcing him to stop, which Imaizumi did not look in the least bit pleased about. Rather, he seemed more concerned with how he would go about getting around this new obstruction.

“I’m sorry,” Naruko said unexpectedly, and Onoda did a double take. Imaizumi, however, didn’t even blink. “I shouldn’t have laughed, okay? I guess I was just surprised or something?” He smiled crookedly, tentatively resting a hand on Imazumi’s shoulder. “I didn’t mean to make fun of you-- this time, at least. Sometimes you’re asking for it and I can't help it. But I didn't mean to actually upset you, so... I don't know, do you want to talk about it or--”

“No, why the hell would I want to talk about it with you?” Imaizumi snapped with a vehemence that shocked Naruko into drawing back. He shook Naruko’s hand off with a look of disgust. “In case you’ve forgotten, we’re not friends and we never will be, either. I don’t need to talk, I don’t need you to be sorry, and I especially don’t need your pity!”

Naruko visibly paled, red eyes wide. He seemed merely startled at first, but his surprised expression soon shifted dangerously close to one of hurt before it settled in the safer territory of pure obstinacy.

“W-what’s your deal, anyway?” he snapped, once he had shaken himself out of his stupour, “I’m only trying to help!”

“If you really want to help you can start by backing off things that aren’t your business, Naruko,” Imaizumi said coldly, brushing past him. “It’s not your place to offer help, and I’m disappointed that you’d be weak-willed enough to consider it in the first place.”

Naruko bristled, eyes alighting with fury. “You--”

Imaizumi kept walking as if nothing had happened. “I’m going-- and don’t you dare follow me.”

“Try to stop me, then, you stupid hotshot!” Naruko snarled, stomping angrily across the grass after him, hands fisted at his sides. “Do you think I’ll just roll over and do what you say? Like I’d ever! I’ll make you sorry you ever called me weak, you filthy piece of--”

“I think you should probably leave him be, Shoukichi,” Onoda said nervously, finally working up the courage to step in. He put a retraining hand on his friend’s forearm and Imaizumi immediately took the opportunity to leave while Naruko was distracted.

“But Sakamichi,” Naruko protested as he turned on Onoda, his face red with a combination of humiliation and helpless fury. “You heard what he said! I can’t just let that go!”

“Shunsuke is... he’s not himself right now,” Onoda said, wondering as he did so which part of what Imaizumi had said was what Naruko took the most issue with. “The... the boggart really upset him. I don’t know why, but I think... I’m pretty sure he didn’t mean it. The things he said.”

Naruko grit his teeth. “Sure sounded like he did to me.”

“Please,” Onoda said, unable to keep a pleading note out of his voice. Imaizumi was already out of sight, and Onoda suspected that he wasn’t going to make it especially easy to find him. “I’ll go after him. Seeing you now... would probably only make it worse.”

“Well, what if I want it to be worse for him?”

“....I don’t think that would go particularly well for either of you, really” Onoda said, attempting to be diplomatic even in the face of an irate Shoukichi Naruko, which took a monumental effort on his part. “Just let me go. I’ll try to smooth things over-- maybe he’ll even be reasonable.”

Naruko looked dubious, but he eventually glanced in the direction that Imaizumi had left in and sighed, shoulders hunching in defeat as he buried his hands in his pockets. “Well... if you say so, Sakamichi. I guess he’s less likely to bite your head off if it’s you, anyways.

Onoda nodded, relieved that Naruko had agreed to back down on this. He would head back to the castle and make sure to give Imaizumi at least a few minutes to cool down before coming to find him. Hopefully he would be more agreeable then, and maybe even be willing to interact with Naruko on civilized terms as well, provided the redhead was also agreeable to that.

Maybe this could still all end peacefully somehow.

“Slug him a good one for me, Sakamichi,” Naruko said, brandishing a fist to demonstrate.

Onoda hoped that Naruko didn’t actually mean that.

***

When Onoda finally found Imaizumi, he was sitting alone in the library, a heavy book in from of him that he seemed to be deeply immersed in.

Although he didn’t seem particularly upset, for some reason the sight brought to mind the first time Onoda had seen Imaizumi on the Hogwarts Express, and Onoda didn’t particularly like the comparison.

“Sakamichi,” Imaizumi acknowledged Onoda’s presence, but he didn’t look happy to see him at all. “What are you doing here?”

“I was... I was looking for you,” Onoda said, tentatively taking a seat across from Imaizumi, heart pounding from nervousness and thankful that their location and the nearby presence of the librarian might discourage Imaizumi from shouting at him if things went badly.

“I see. Is this about... earlier?” Imaizumi asked stiffly, deliberately avoiding looking at Onoda. He turned a page. “Because I’m not in the mood to talk about it right now.”

Onoda swallowed. “Yeah, no, Shoukichi told me you’d say that.” He noticed that Imaizumi visibly tensed when he dropped Naruko’s name. “I actually wanted to ask you something else. I was going to hold off until Psyche gets back with my mom’s letter, but... I don’t know, maybe this might help cheer you up?”

Imaizumi raised his eyebrow at Onoda, clearly skeptical.

“I’m really sorry,” Onoda took a deep breath, his eyes darting to the side to avoid meeting Imaizumi’s. “I’m assuming a lot here and I feel kind of stupid even asking, but I asked my mom about this in the last letter I sent and I’m sure she’ll agree it it, so I was wondering... wondering if....” he trailed off, feeling like a fool.

“What are you mumbling about, Sakamichi?”

Onoda’s hands clenched into fists under the table.

“Do you want to come spend Christmas with me and my mom?” he blurted out.

Imaizumi stared at him.

That certainly wasn’t the way he had intended to open this particular conversation, but it was out in the open now, for better or for worse. So Onoda did what he usually did in this sort of situation.

He panicked.

Imaizumi was absolutely silent following that outburst and Onoda hurriedly backtracked, hoping to undo the damage. “I mean, you don’t have to if you don’t want to, obviously. I know it might be too weird, since my mom’s a muggle and doesn’t really know much about magic or anything so she may ask a lot of strange questions and you’ll have to figure out how to get around without magic for a couple of weeks .... also we don’t have a lot of money so our house isn’t in the best shape and it’s really small so I don’t think it’ll be anywhere as nice as anywhere you’ve lived before, but I just thought I’d ask anyways when you mentioned that you’d be spending Christmas alone here and--”

“Sakamichi,” Imazumi interrupted, mercifully cutting off Onoda’s awkward tirade before he could embarrass himself further.

This was it, Onoda realized with a sinking feeling. He had finally alienated Imaizumi by being too clingy and not respecting his choices or his personal space. He raised his head again to look up at Imaizumi, mentally preparing himself to be met with a look of disdain in those cool grey eyes and a swift rejection of his offer soon to follow, but was surprised to see something entirely different.

Imaizumi was still staring at him, but his expression was more shellshocked than anything else. Like Onoda’s awkward babbling had somehow managed to shift his whole worldview on its head.

He definitely didn’t look angry, either.

“Sakamichi,” Imaizumi repeated, looking like he was struggling for words. “Did you... did you really mean that?”

“Mean what?” Onoda asked with no small amount of confusion. “Did I mean that you could spend Christmas with us if you wanted? Because... if that’s the case then yeah, I meant it. But only if you want to! If you would rather stay at Hogwarts instead I totally understand--”

“No! I mean... no, I mean I was never particularly set on staying at Hogwarts in the first place, really,” Imaizumi said, sounding at least as lost and uncomfortable as Onoda felt despite his obvious attempts to salvage his usual stoic facade. “Not if there’s another option besides going back to the family manor, at any rate. But wouldn’t it be a bother? I don’t want to get in the way of your family’s celebrations... and you haven’t even gotten permission from your mom to invite me yet, have you?” His eyes visibly darkened as his doubts settled in. “Then there’s still a good chance she’ll say no.”

“No, I promise it would be fine!” Onoda said, rushing to banish Imaizumi’s misgivings. “Christmas is usually just me and my mom, so it’s really quiet so there’s definitely nothing for you to get in the way of. And there’s pretty much no chance she’ll not want you coming over, either-- she loves guests, you should’ve seen how excited she was when Mr. Kanzaki came over, and that was just for school,” Onoda said, chuckling halfheartedly, hoping to convey to Imaizumi that there really was nothing to worry about. “She also mentioned wanting to meet you and Shoukichi in her last letter so she’ll probably jump at the chance to get to know at least one of you... I mean, since Shoukichi will be at home with his family and otherwise unavailable....”

He was rambling again. It was time to wrap this up before he could embarrass himself further.

“So... yeah, I just thought I’d ask, so that you’d know that the option is there,” Onoda finished lamely. “I’m sorry I don’t have anything better to offer--”

“I’d love to.”

Onoda glanced back at Imaizumi in surprise, although Imaizumi looked at least as surprised as he was, as if he hadn’t expected to utter those words.

“You... would? Really?” Onoda asked.

Now it was Imaizumi’s turn to look away, hiding his expression but not quickly enough to keep Onoda from seeing how red his face was. “Yes, I suppose. It sounds... interesting. As long as you’re sure it’d be alright,” he added hastily, glancing back up at Onoda with his jaw set in a stubborn line. “I won’t agree to it until you’ve hear back from your mother and she’s given her answer, though.”

“Well, it’s really no problem at all, like I said before,” Onoda protested weakly, although he knew that Imaizumi wouldn’t budge once he made up his mind about something. “But it’s okay-- it probably won’t be too long before she sends another letter, either. So if she says yes in her reply... you’ll come visit, then?”

“I thought I’d made that clear already,” Imaizumi said, and Onoda knew that he was once again making an effort to put up an appearance of distance and control. His mouth wobbled slightly though, and Onoda knew that’s all it was-- an appearance. “Yes... if it’s alright with your mother I will gratefully accept your offer.”

“Okay, that sounds good,” Onoda said, struggling to hide a sigh of relief. That had gone a lot better than he had expected it to.

Onoda knew that this would be the perfect opportunity to break off the conversation on a positive note. Against all odds, Onoda’s invitation had cheered up Imaizumi, or at least put him in a better frame of mind. If he wanted, Onoda could probably just pull out his Potions essay or one of his comic books and quietly join Imaizumi in his studying. It would be the easiest and probably the most comfortable option for both of them.

And yet, he was struck with the sense that maybe, maybe... he should try pushing his luck a little further.

“Hey... Shunsuke,” Onoda said. “I won’t ask you anything about today if you don’t want to talk about it, but one thing I want to know is... did losing in Gobstones really bother you that much?”

Imaizumi’s eyes narrowed.

“O-or,” Onoda stuttered, “was it because you lost to Naruko?”

Imaizumi watched him uncertainly, not speaking a word. He stayed like that for several long moments, but just as Onoda was beginning to think that he wasn’t going to answer at all, he responded.

“Was I really that obvious?” Imaizumi asked quietly.

“Yeah... kind of,” Onoda said awkwardly.

Imaizumi sighed, pushing his bangs back from his forehead. He looked utterly exhausted. “Well, I suspected I wasn’t doing a particularly good job fooling you--I guess this is just the confirmation. And I’ve been short with you lately, too. I hope you can forgive me for that.”

“You don’t have to apologize, it’s fine!”

Imaizumi smirked, but there was no humour in it. “Really? Lately it seems all I do is apologize to you. I haven’t been much good to anyone lately, you or... Naruko.” He winced.

“Shunsuke...” Onoda said. “Whatever you think you’ve done or haven’t done, please remember that Naruko and I spend time with you because we enjoy it. And I don’t know if it’s really my place to bring this up, but... I don’t think Shoukichi meant any harm. Today or with the Gobstones.”

Imaizumi frowned. “I can see your point, Sakamichi, I really can. It’s just...” he shook his head. “I can’t lose to him.”

“What?”

“I can’t lose to him-- or if I do lose to him, then I have to win again to make up for it. That’s the way it has to be.”

“I.. don’t think I understand,” Onoda said cautiously.

“Everything has been going all wrong since we played that stupid game,” Imaizumi said, frustration that had clearly been building up over time seeping into his voice.. “Naruko and I aren’t friends-- not really. But he’s a good opponent in flying and he’ll probably be a good one in Quidditch one day, too, and I appreciate that. I know that it’s in our best interest to get along, but...” he grimaced. “We’re too different. He’s loud and obnoxious and I don’t believe in most of what he stands for. I can barely stand to be around him sometimes.”

“But then--”

“But I’ve noticed that the times we get along the best are when we’re equally matched at something,” Imaizumi continued relentlessly. “Like when we’re flying. And then there was that stupid game-- it messed things up somehow. I couldn’t win even once against him and if that wasn’t bad enough, now he knows about Mid-- the boggart as well. He just keeps winning and I can’t compete-- he’s even started looking at me like he feels sorry for me!" Imaizumi phrased the last part as if it were unthinkable. "How are we supposed to get along when he can’t even bring himself to fight with me?" Imaizumi demanded desperately. "Because I’m not--”

“Shhhh!” Onoda was actually relieved when the librarian, alerted by Imaizumi’s steady increase in volume over the course of his tirade, cut him off in mid-sentence with a sharp look in their direction. Imaizumi immediately shut his mouth and settled back down in his seat, subdued and more than a little embarrassed-looking.

“So... you really don’t like Naruko? At all?” Onoda asked softly as Imaizumi picked up his book again and began trying to find the spot where he'd left off.

“Not in the slightest.”

“And... you think he doesn’t like you, either?”

“I know he doesn’t,” Imaizumi looked up from the book and scoffed at Onoda’s expression. “Really, Sakamichi, you don’t have to look so sad about it. This should all work itself out eventually, and we’ll both still be your friends when it’s over. Nothing will have to change.”

That's entirely the point, Onoda wanted to say. Maybe things should change. But he had not the slightest idea how to convince Imaizumi of that, or if it were even possible.

“Okay... whatever you say,” was what Onoda finally decided on, not having the heart to argue any further. “I guess this really isn’t any of my business--I just hope you know what you’re doing.”

“Of course,” Imaizumi said.

Onoda looked down at the bag on his lap and, unable to stop himself from wondering if Naruko understood the situation in the same terms as Imaizumi did. At any rate, he had clearly been upset by what had happened before Onoda had gone chasing after Imaizumi. There wasn't much Onoda could do for Imaizumi, but he could at least go and find Naruko to see if he needed anything. It wouldn’t be fair to leave him alone.

Making up his mind, Onoda stood. “Well, if you’re sure you’re fine then, I’m going to go find Shoukichi,” he said in a fake-cheerful voice. “Do you want to come with me? We never got around to doing any flying today, and--”

“I’ll be fine here,” Imaizumi said dismissively. “Have fun.”

“Are you... are you sure?”

“Positive.”

Onoda frowned as he made to leave, feeling utterly useless. He’d tried his best to listen and understand Imaizumi’s problems, but he couldn’t help but wonder if anything he had said would make any difference in the long run. Imaizumi was stubborn, after all, and Onoda's advice was probably not helpful to start with.

This whole situation was impossibly frustrating. What kind of a friend was he really, when being there for one friend meant abandoning the other?

“Sakamichi.”

Onoda stopped in his tracks. “Yes?” he asked cautiously, glancing back at Imaizumi.

Onoda half expected a parting message along the lines of "next time mind your own business" or "don't tell Naruko about this," but was surprised to see Imaizumi, who had been frustrated and angry only minutes ago, looking at him with uncertainty written across his features.

“What do you think your mother might want for Christmas?” he asked.

Onoda blinked.

Or maybe... something might have made the tiniest amount of difference after all.

Chapter Text

The Hogwarts Express chugged merrily through the snow-covered countryside, weighed down by its load of school-aged witches and wizards on their way back to London, where they would be meeting up with their families for the holidays. Although Christmas was still several days away, the corridors and compartments were filled with the clamour of excitedly raised voices and laughter as students were swept up in the spirit of the season.

An over-excited Naruko had ensured that Onoda and Imaizumi had started the holidays off with a (literal) bang by smuggling an entire box of wizard Christmas Crackers onto the train that morning. He had ended up gleefully setting them all off in the tiny compartment they shared, which resulted in a series of deafening cracks and the appearance of a large quantity of purple smoke that had nearly forced all three occupants to flee the compartment in favour of a less-toxic environment.

It had taken some effort to waft all of the smoke out the open sliding door even after Imaizumi had bravely gone back inside and cracked the window open, and Naruko had spent most of that time desperately apologizing to Onoda, who was suffering from coughing fits and not at the moment capable of reassuring him that yes, he was really alright and that no, he did not want to wear the crown that Naruko had gotten from that last cracker as compensation either.

The smoke had mostly dissipated by this point, leaving only the faint smell of gunpowder and the detritus of a full box of crackers in its wake. Naruko was curled up in the carnage, wedged between Onoda and the window and napping as contentedly as a cat in a sunbeam (or perhaps a dragon on its hoard was a more accurate comparison) with the aforementioned crown perched lopsidedly on his head and the rest of his spoils strewn on the seats and floor around him. Onoda and Imaizumi, on the other hand, had gone back to their reading once the excitement had passed, Onoda still determinedly working through Quidditch Through the Ages and Imaizumi finally having moved onto the only remaining comic Onoda had brought with him that he hadn’t read yet.

For the most part it was silent in the compartment (particularly in comparison to the festive atmosphere that suffused most of the train) but mercifully, it was not the tense silence that Onoda had been becoming accustomed to over the last couple of weeks. Having Imaizumi occupied with something and Naruko asleep seemed to be the only sure-fire way that the two of them could successfully pass the time in close proximity without being stiff and awkward, and Onoda would enjoy the respite no matter how brief it was.

In the weeks leading up to the holidays, it had become clear that there were clearly still some... issues that the two of them would have to work out. Naruko was in the habit of sending glares in Imaizumi’s direction when he wasn’t looking and feigning deafness when he spoke, and Imaizumi....

Onoda thought he might be imagining it, but it seemed as if Imaizumi looked almost lonely sometimes. And when he wasn’t looking lonely, he was acting more irritable than ever.

Onoda got the distinct impression that Imaizumi was suffering the effects of not having his usual go-to for frustration-venting available to him anymore, and he thought that maybe spending some time apart over the holiday season would actually be good for them. It would at least give them both a chance to calm down and rethink their behaviour towards each other before the new term. But on the other hand, it was kind of sad that the three of them would be saying goodbye on a bad note.

It was still strange for Onoda to think that only a few short months ago he was friendless and alone, and that the prospect of several weeks at home before he had to go back to school and all of his classmates would have been an appealing one. Now, all he could think about was how lucky it was that he at least wouldn’t have to miss Imaizumi since he was coming to stay with him, and how much he would miss Naruko, Miki, Aya, and the castle itself in the meantime.

And Manami.

He would miss Manami too, of course.

***

If Onoda had wondered at any point whether the snow would keep Manami from flying, his question was answered after he had made his way painstakingly through the heavy drifts that surrounded the Quidditch Pitch and found Manami standing in the middle of the field, holding a broom and looking severely underdressed for the weather, his school robes flapping around him like wings. Hiss face was turned skyward, and he was either unaware of or unbothered by the snowflakes that gathered in his lashes or landed on his skin, only to melt a few seconds later. He remained perfectly still yet serene, and seemed to be listening to something far away.

He would be embarrassed by the thought later, but Onoda kind of thought that Manami looked beautiful, in that moment.

As soon as the thought occurred to him, Onoda suddenly had the strangest impression that he was intruding on something private. It was a ridiculous notion, really, since Manami was standing in the middle of the Quidditch Pitch where literally anyone could happen upon him if they were inclined to brave the snow first, but Onoda still kind of felt like he should leave, despite having come this entire way hoping to find Manami in the first place.

The decision, however, was taken out of his hands when the snow crunched loudly beneath his foot as he moved to back away.

“Sakamichi?” Manami asked as he turned to face him, jolted from whatever reverie he had been in.

Onoda wondered if he had just imagined that Manami had said his name before actually saw who was there, and decided he must have. “Hi,” he said lamely, lifting his hand in a small wave. “Sorry... I didn’t want to interrupt you--”

“You’re not interrupting, Sakamichi,” Manami reassured him, bounding up to Onoda until he was standing mere inches away. “I was actually just wondering if I would see you today.”

“Oh... really?” Onoda asked, feeling perhaps unnecessarily flattered that Manami had thought about him even when Onoda was not around.

“Of course! After all, if I didn’t see you today, we probably wouldn’t be able to meet up again until after the Christmas break,” Manami said. “You’re going home to visit your family, after all. Right?”

“Y-yeah,” Onoda said. “Are you?”

“Hmm...” Manami screwed up his face thoughtfully. “No, I don’t think so.”

“You aren’t?” Onoda asked, surprised. “Why not?”

Manami shrugged. “I don’t know. I’m not very close to my father so I don’t think he’ll really miss me. And there are brooms here and a lack of people who would be trying to tell me what to do for two whole weeks, so it’ll actually work out perfectly for me if I just stay here!” he laughed brightly.

Onoda found himself unable to join in on Manami’s merriment, however. “You mean... you’re really okay with that? You’re not just saying that?”

Onoda was actually beginning to wonder if he should have asked his mother if Manami could come home with him too. Except that... no, Imaizumi was coming over, and Imaizumi didn’t like Slytherins. He also in all likelihood didn’t know Manami existed yet let alone that Onoda considered him a friend, and forcing the two of them to spend Christmas together in Onoda’s tiny house in muggle London was probably not the best way to go about introducing them.

That, and while Onoda was positive his mother would welcome another guest with open arms, he suspected that feeding two extra mouths might put more of a strain on her finances than she could necessarily afford at the moment.

“Yes, of course I’m fine,” Manami waved off Onoda’s worries with a chuckle. “I honestly am more happy with it this way. I guess I should probably explain, though. You see, when I was younger, I got sick a lot, so my father got it into his head that it was his job to make sure I stayed inside all the time and never put myself in any situation where I might get hurt. It was because he cared, I guess, but it was annoying, too. He’s never really moved past that stage even though I’m fine now, so I know if I go back there now he’ll still be trying to control me,” Manami scowled, face uncharacteristically dark, before he brightened all over again. “So this is better. I can stay here and fly all I want and sleep whenever I want and no one will be getting after me to go to classes or to be more careful or anything. I don’t feel like I’ll be missing out at all.”

“Oh,” Onoda said, eyes widening in realization. “Okay. That makes sense, I guess.”

Onoda was aware that this was one of the only times Manami had ever actually revealed something of such significance to his past to him, and a tiny, tiny part of him wondered if this was another lie meant to make him react in some way, like the ghost story he had told when they first met had been.

But... this was Manami. Onoda felt that he knew Manami a lot better now than he had at that time, and it certainly didn’t seem like Manami was lying about being happier to remain at Hogwarts, at least.

And really, that was all that mattered, so Onoda decided to trust Manami.

“So are you coming flying with me today?” Manami asked eagerly, his grip on the broom tightening in anticipation.

Onoda shook his head, stomach twisting slightly with regret. “No, I uh... I actually wasn’t sure if you’d be here in this weather, but I wanted to see if I could find you so I could... give you something.”

“Oh?” Manami asked, disappointment quickly morphing into curiousity.

“Yeah... it’s just something small,” Onoda added quickly, not wanting to raise Manami’s hopes unnecessarily as he dug into his pocket and pulled out a small envelope. “Honestly, I didn’t even know my mom had packed these at first, but I figured that if I had them anyways I should use them.”

Manami took the envelope from Onoda and carefully tore it open, and Onoda noted that the other boy, in addition to not wearing a cloak over his school robes or a hat was also not wearing gloves.

Onoda was wearing all those things and he still felt cold. He felt a sudden surge of concern for Manami. If he truly intended to continue flying in this weather over the holidays, he needed to be dressed more warmly than that.

“Thank-you, Sakamichi,” Manami said, and Onoda was pulled away from his thoughts just in time to see Manami tuck the Christmas card back into its envelope and carefully slip it into one of his robe pockets. “I actually can’t remember the last time I got a Christmas card from someone.”

Onoda frowned. “Say, Sangaku?”

“Yes?” Manami asked placidly.

“Do you... do you have a cloak?” Onoda asked. “I mean, it was on our supplies list as part of our uniform so I thought everyone should have one, but then why aren’t you wearing one?”

“I do have a cloak, but I don’t like it,” Manami complained. “It’s too stifling-- I can’t feel the wind properly when I wear it. Makes it terrible for flying”

“But you should wear it!” Onoda protested. “And gloves, too. Do you have gloves?”

“Hmm... no, I don’t think so?”

“Okay,” Onoda said, determinedly pulling his own gloves off his hands. He handed them to Manami, and said, “You can have these, then. Please wear them.”

Manami looked surprised. “Sakamichi, I’m fine,” he protested, attempting to return the gloves to Onoda. “And these are yours-- aren’t you going to get cold now?”

“But you need them more,” Onoda said, unbudging. “I can get a new pair when I go home, but if you’re going to be flying a lot on your own in this sort of weather, you should at least have gloves, even if these ones are old and in sort of bad shape... and I haven’t really taken that good care of them and your hands are bigger so they may be too small--”

“Sakamichi,” Manami said, a odd look on his face, and Onoda's mouth closed involuntarily. “Would you... feel better if I wore them?”

Onoda blinked. “Yes, of course,” he said.

“Then I’ll wear them,” Manami said, pulling them on. There was an undeniable sense of finality about the motion. “Thank-you for the gift, Sakamichi. I’m afraid I don’t have anything as special to give in return, though,” he added apologetically, with a small but sincere smile.

“What-- no, that wasn’t your Christmas gift!” Onoda protested, horrified that Manami would get the wrong idea. “I was meaning to get you something better than my used gloves, I promise-- and you don’t have to give me anything in return, either, I wasn’t expecting--”

“It’s fine,” Manami said, reaching into one of his robe pockets and rooting around, a look of concentration on his face. “Let’s see... I know I had it in here somewhere... ah, there it is!” he pulled out a small Christmas orange and held it out for Onoda. “Merry Christmas, Sakamichi!” he beamed. “This will just have to do for now.”

Onoda couldn’t help but smile back as he took the orange into his now-uncovered grasp. “Thank-you, Sangaku. I promise I’ll get you something better when I get back.”

“I don’t know, the gloves might be pretty hard to beat,” Manami said lightly, and strangely enough, he didn’t even sound like he was joking.

“Yeah, well,” Onoda said, unsure of how to respond. “I hope they work alright for the time being, anyways. Are you staying out here to fly?”

“I might as well, especially since I have these new gloves to try out now!” Manami laughed, and Onoda’s gaze dropped to his feet, embarrassed. “Hmm... I probably shouldn’t try to convince you to stay, since you don’t have gloves anymore and you’re already cold enough to be shaking like a scared rabbit.”

“I’m fine!” Onoda protested, although he was suddenly aware of just how cold he actually was. Really, how could Manami stand it?

“You’d better get back inside, Sakamichi,” Manami said as he mounted his broom, his attention drifting slowly yet inevitably away from Onoda and back toward the sky. “It feels like the wind’s about to pick up.”

“Oh--okay, I’ll talk to you later, then,” Onoda said, briefly wondering how Manami could possibly know that.

Or... maybe he didn’t know that. In fact, it was just as likely a dismissal, something to get Onoda to go away. That was always a possibility as well.

Onoda’s spirits sank just the tiniest bit as that thought occurred to him. With Manami, it was probably safe to say that everyday things-- things like school and homework, or family or casual friends or Onoda were all just tiny distractions in the face of his desire to fly and be free from things that tied him down or bored him. Onoda hadn’t known Manami for long, but he felt like he understood him enough to realize that much, at least.

But it was alright. This way, he could continue being friends with Manami without expecting too much of him. As long as Onoda understood how he fit into Manami’s life, he could receive Manami’s smiles and his attention and not have to worry about pushing that trust too far. And if Onoda essentially ceased to exist for Manami sometimes when he was out of eyesight, well... that was just one of the costs of friendship, right?

“I hope you have fun with your family,” Manami said with another smile before he disappeared in a flurry of snowflakes.

Onoda watched him go for several long moments, before a particularly strong gust of wind made him shiver, reminding him that he had been about to head back toward the castle. Imaizumi and Naruko would be waiting for him anyways, and if Onoda was lucky, their feud wouldn’t have escalated while he was gone.

By the time Onoda reached the school’s main entrance, the wind was blowing at least twice as hard as it had been when he had spoken with Manami, and seemed to be in no hurry to die down again.

***

“Hey, Sakamichiiii!”

Onoda glanced up, startled out of his memories by a sleep-ruffled but undeniably awake Naruko. It seemed he had gotten rid of the crown at some point but there was a still seam indent across his cheek, so he couldn’t have been awake for long.

“What?” Onoda asked.

“Do you want anything from the trolley?”

Onoda blinked. “Uh... no, that’s okay,” he said.

“Okay, cool. If you want anything later you can have some of mine. Man, I’m starving,” Naruko said, hopping down from the seat and leaving the compartment so that he could purchase his food.

Imaizumi shot a slightly concerned look in Onoda’s direction. “Are you okay?”


“Yeah,” Onoda laughed vaguely. “I’m fine. Just... happy to be going home!”

Imaizumi frowned, obviously not satisfied with that answer. “Really. Even Naruko seems to think something’s bothering you.”

“Oh. Really?”

“Unless you think that little fiasco with the Christmas crackers earlier was just Naruko being Naruko,” Imaizumi said dryly. “If you ask me, I think he might have been making a-- wildly misguided, might I add-- attempt to cheer you up. So whatever your problem is, we should probably solve it soon if we don’t want to see him attempt an even more obnoxious prank later.”

“Oh,” Onoda repeated, momentarily at a loss for words. “Oh well... I guess I’ve maybe been a little bit stressed lately? I don’t think I did very well on most of my exams, you and Naruko haven’t been happy, none of us have managed to fly much since the last big snowfall, and now we’re not going to be all together again until after Christmas. I guess there’s just a lot of little things bothering me right now,” Onoda said awkwardly. “Sorry, I shouldn’t be bothering you with my problems when you have your own to worry about.”

“Well, I...” Imaizumi trailed off, looking embarrassed. “I’m sorry that I’ve been adding to your problems in the first place. But I...” he grimaced. “I’m going to try to make it better, I promise. At least for my part.”

“What do you--”

“I hope you like Cauldron Cakes, Sakamichi, because I bought ten of them!” Naruko threw open the compartment door and returned to his seat, carrying a huge paper bag in both arms. “I also bought Licorice Wands and Chocolate Frogs and Bertie-Bott’s Every Flavour Beans in case you wanted something lighter, too,” he beamed.

“Good grief,” Imaizumi muttered.

A muscle twitched in Naruko’s cheek but he made no other indication that he’d heard Imaizumi.

“Uh... Shoukichi, I really appreciate the offer but I’m not really hungry right now,” Onoda said weakly.

“But you’ve barely eaten anything today,” Naruko protested, apparently not in a mood to be deterred. Maybe Imaizumi had been right about Naruko after all-- perhaps this was another attempt to cheer him up.

“Naruko, sit down and be quiet,” Imaizumi said, picking up his shoulder bag from the seat next to him and digging through it as Naruko bristled.

“And why exactly should I do that?” Naruko sneered, turning to face the other.

“I just wanted to get this out of the way while we’re all here,” Imaizumi said blandly as he pulled a small, red-wrapped box out of his bag and held it out for Naruko. “Merry Christmas.”

"What?"

Onoda was speechless, and Naruko (who actually sat down as Imaizumi had asked, although it was likely out of pure shock) was staring at Imaizumi like he had just grown another head.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Naruko said, glancing around nervously. “You’ve set up spycams in here, right? And wireless microphones? I’m right, aren’t I?”

“I don’t know what that means,” Imaizumi said with infinite patience. “Just take it.”

Naruko clearly did not want to take it, and was in fact looking at the brightly wrapped gift as though it would take his hand clean off if he touched it.

“What did you do to it?” Naruko asked eventually, turning to Imaizumi.

“I wrapped it,” Imaizumi said dryly. “It’s a Christmas present, you idiot. I figured even you would be able to figure at least that much out.”

Naruko’s eyes narrowed further in suspicion. “But that makes no sense,” he said, apparently curious enough to choose to ignore Imaizumi’s jibe for the moment. “Why would you be giving me a Christmas present?”

“Because for some inexplicable reason we’re both friends with the same person, and it would be rude not to,” Imaizumi said dryly. “And it’s common enough to give the acquaintances you end up spending a lot of time with gifts at Christmas, whether you really like them or not. This is a gesture, nothing more,”

“HA-- rude? Seriously? When have you ever been concerned about being rude?” Naruko laughed spitefully. “But those are all just excuses--this is a trick, isn’t it? It’ll be something super gross or it’ll-- I don’t know, spray me with ink when I open it or something, right? You’re still after revenge for the Gobstones, aren’t you? I know exactly how your nasty mind works and I’m not going to let you get the better of me that easily.”

“It’s not a trick.”

“Oh yeah? Prove it,” Naruko demanded. “Where’s Sakamichi’s present? If you were thoughtful enough to get one for me then you have to have gotten something for him, too. So where is it, huh?”

“Since I’m staying with Sakamichi for the holidays, I’ll be giving him his present on Christmas day, obviously,” Imaizumi said, not batting an eyelid. “Of course I have something for him as well. I’m only giving you yours now because we won’t be seeing you again until the new term starts at school. You should just be thankful I got you anything in the first place,” he muttered as an aside.

“Stop trying to make it sound reasonable,” Naruko scowled, casting a dubious look at the present which, for all intents and purposes, appeared normal and relatively harmless. “I know you’ve got it in for me, Imaizumi. And as far as traps go, this one was pathetic! I could see it coming from a mile away. So don’t bother trying anything--I’ve got you aaaaall figured out.”

Imiazumi rolled his eyes expansively. “You are so incredibly stupid.”

“Hey!’

Imaizumi sighed. “Okay, fine. I promise that it’s not a trick.”

“That’s not good enough,” Naruko crossed his arms over his chest stubbornly. “You could just be saying that.”

Imaizumi gritted his teeth, obviously losing control of his hard-won patience. “Fine,” he said with effort. “I’ll open it for you, then. How’s that?”

Naruko’s eye twitched. “Huh?”

“Well, since you’re too afraid to do it, I can always open it to show you that there’s nothing to worry about. Or,” Imaizumi said thoughtfully, “on the other hand, maybe I shouldn’t give it to you at all, seeing as you’re so picky and annoying and I’m starting to think that maybe I’m not feeling particularly generous toward you after all. So how about--”

Naruko snatched the present out of Imaizumi’s hands before he could finish his sentence. “No take-backs!” he snapped, although he still held it somewhat warily away from his body. “Shoukichi Naruko is no coward! You were stupid enough to get me something so I’ll look bad if I don’t open it!”

“Yes, we certainly wouldn’t want that,” Imaizumi said, voice dripping with sarcasm. “Just... don’t shake it too hard.”

“What? Why the hell can’t I shake it? What’s in here?”

“Stop asking me, just open it and find out!” Imaizumi snarled, the last thread of his temper snapping like cheap elastic.

Naruko proceeded to do just that, but (to Imaizumi’s annoyance) he kept up a running commentary as he did so.

“Whaaa-- there are holes in the top of this box! What did you do, poke a knife straight through the wrapping paper? I guess nothing says ‘Merry Christmas’ like taking a weapon to your presents before you give them away. That’s some serial killer-level shit right there--”

“For the love of--” Imaizumi massaged his temples. “Can’t you open a present without running your mouth?”

Naruko glared, but continued to rip away the paper and ribbons nonetheless. “You do realize that I already know it’s going to be something awful,” he said in a matter-of-fact voice. “I’ve been keeping an eye out and I know that someone’s been sneaking flobberworms from the potions stores and I wouldn’t be the least bit surprised if it was you, so I’m probably going to reach in here and come up with a handful of... oh,” he cut himself off, confused as he pulled out a round, stoppered phial. “That’s... a bottle of HairStay Potion?”

Naruko blinked, looking surprised for someone not currently holding a handful of flobberworms.

“Before you ask, the original seal is still intact,” Imaizumi said defensively. “I didn’t do anything to it so please spare me the stupid questions this time.”

Naruko snorted. “Can’t blame me for being careful, asshole,” he said as he turned over the bottle in his hands. “But really, that’s... actually not a terrible present, I guess. Sort of weird and random... cheap, too. But... not bad. Huh, I’m actually surprised.”

“There’s another part to it,” Imaizumi said.

Naruko dug around in the box with far less caution this time and within seconds Onoda saw his eyes light up like sparklers. He made an excited sound and pulled what looked like a tiny ball of red fur out of the box.

...Except that the ball seemed to be scuttling around the palm of his hand of its own volition, as if it were alive.

Onoda did not exactly understand why finding this thing in a gift was apparently cause for celebration. Naruko, on the other hand, seemed to greet it with a surprising amount of enthusiasm.

“Oh my god, hotshot, you bought me a Pygmy Puff?” Naruko asked delightedly, looking at the scrap of red fur like it was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.“It’s so cute--and it’s even red, too! I wanted one so bad when I was little, but mom would never get me one because she said I wasn’t responsible enough for a pet.”

“You’re right, you’re not responsible enough for a pet. For once, I actually find myself in agreement with your mother,” Imaizumi said. “But I’ve never actually heard of anyone who had trouble taking care of a Pygmy Puff before, either. They’re supposed to be pretty much indestructible and they eat anything, so it should be safe, even from you.”

“So that,” Onoda said tentatively. “It’s an... animal?”

“Yes, it’s a miniature Puffskein,” Imaizumi explained, although this meant little to Onoda. He suspected this was just one more magical creature he’d never heard of before. “They’re marketed as “Pygmy Puffs,” and they’re sort of a fad pet, I guess. They come in a bunch of colours and they’re simple to take care of, so they’re really popular with small children,” he smirked. “And with people who have the minds of small children, apparently.”

“The only reason I’m not punching you in the face now is because by some miracle, you actually managed to get me a not-terrible present,” Naruko said distractedly, stroking the Pygmy Puff with a fingertip and cooing as it rolled over onto its... back? Front? Side?

The Pygmy Puff looked somewhat more like a bobble from the top of a hat than it did an animal no matter how much Onoda stared at it, and he was admittedly a little weirded out. But at least Naruko was happy, right?

Was this what Imaizumi had meant when he told Onoda that he would ‘try to make it better’?

“One thing I don’t get, though,” Naruko said eventually, once he could bring himself to look away from his new pet, “is why you got me the HairStay Potion. It’s not exactly the usual gift material, and I have a lot already.”

“Don’t I know it,” Imaizumi grimaced, eyeing Naruko’s hair.

“So you just randomly decided that a Pygmy Puff and a bottle of HairStay Potion was a totally normal gift to give along with....” he trailed off, as if realizing something. “Imaizumi, you’re a dick!”

Imaizumi, to Onoda’s surprise, seemed to be fighting back a smile. That was not the usual reaction to being called a dick, as far as Onoda was aware. “I have no idea what you mean,” he said in as neutral a voice as he could manage.

“You know exactly what I mean! I can’t believe-- that was months ago already! Do you really keep track of all of the terrible insults you ever come up with?”

“I don’t make a habit of it,” Imaizumi said, sounding smug. “But apparently you care enough to keep track of all the insults people have thrown at you, though.”

“I do not! That was--”

Onoda raised a hand awkwardly. “Um, can I ask what the problem is?”

“He said I looked like Pygmy Puff dipped in HairStay Potion,” Naruko shot Imaizumi a nasty look.

Onoda frowned in confusion. “Just now? I don’t remember--”

“No, not just now!” Naruko complained, wounded eyes looking up at Onoda in an expression of supplication. “Don’t you remember? It was back when me and you had just become friends and I met Imaizumi for the first time. He said I looked like a Pygmy Puff dipped in HairStay potion, because he’s an asshole. And now he just called me the same thing again!”

It was then that Onoda understood why Imaizumi had given Naruko the gift in the first place-- it was, apparently, simultaneously a peace offering and a declaration of war.

So this was supposed to be Imaizumi’s method of improving the situation with Naruko? Onoda was impressed that he had managed to get them back on speaking terms, but at the same time, he seemed to be actively reinforcing their antagonistic attitudes toward each other.

Is this really how you go about making friends, Shunsuke? Onoda wondered.

“I’m not aware of having done any such thing,” Imaizumi said, smirking. “You’re mistaken.”

“You actually think you’re funny, oh my god. That’s what this was, wasn’t it? Just a huge lead up to you making the lamest call-back joke ever. I hate you.”

“I’m sorry you feel that way,” Imaizumi said, not sounding sorry at all. “You’re welcome to return the gift if you don’t like it,” he added, almost as an afterthought.

“Screw you!” Naruko snapped, holding the Pygmy Puff protectively against his chest. “You gave him to me, so you don’t have any claim on him anymore. I’m also pretty sure that Quaffle thinks you’re ugly and squinty, too, and I don’t want to have to send him back to that.”

Imaizumi twitched. “You named it ‘Quaffle’?”

“Sure! He’s round like a ball and he’s red, too--it’s a great name!”

“It’s a terrible name.”

“Well, I’m sorry. I didn’t realize we all had to give our pets pretentious names like ‘Psyche’ now that we’re in Hogwarts. You’re absolutely right, hotshot, Quaffle is a dumb name. I should definitely choose a flashier one. What do you think of Agrippa? Parcelsus? Morgan la Fay? Some other famous witch or wizard from times-gone-by?”

“The only reason you know any of those names is because they’re on Chocolate Frog cards,” Imaizumi muttered. “Whatever though, I don’t care. Name it whatever stupid thing you want.”

“Hmm... what if I named him ‘Shunsuke,’ then?” Naruko asked, smiling mischievously. “Cute, fluffy little Shunsuke...”

Imaizumi glared. “Don’t. You. Dare.”

“Then really, what’s wrong with ‘Quaffle’?”

“Absolutely nothing,” Imaizumi bit out. “It’s the best name I’ve ever heard.”

“I thought so, too,” Naruko grinned victoriously. “Thank-you, hotshot,” he said cheerfully.

Well... maybe Imaizumi’s plan had worked better than Onoda had given him credit for, if the nickname was back now. Naruko’s ‘thank-you’ had sounded surprisingly genuine as well.

Maybe they could handle themselves on their own after all.

Imaizumi had quickly gone back to his reading now that the excitement had died down a bit, or at least, he was pretending to. “Don’t mention it,” he said brusquely. “I told you, it was just a gesture. I had no idea you’d actually like it.”

“Well, I’ll be sure to get you something just as thoughtful,” Naruko said with a worryingly wide smile. “Sakamichi, make sure you give me your address before we get to London so I can send your Christmas presents over.”

“Oh, right!” Onoda said. “I’ll need yours too, I guess. Should I send it by owl, or--”

“Muggle post is fine, too. My dad’s a muggle, remember?” Naruko said. “Owl’s probably faster, though, especially since hotshot has his own. With, I'll say it again, a terrible name.”

"Shut up."

They settled back down for the remainder of the trip after that, and Onoda was relieved that things seemed to have returned to normal between Imaizumi and Naruko. Imaizumi's shoulders had finally lost their stiffness and he appeared truly relaxed for the first time that day, if not all week. Naruko, meanwhile, had broken up one of his Cauldron Cakes into pieces and was feeding them to Quaffle the Pygmy Puff. The odd creature seemed more than happy enough to consume its own weight in cake and Onoda got the feeling that it would be as happy with its new owner as Naruko was to have been given it.

An unfortunate effect of the pleasantly peaceful train ride was that it seemed like no time at all before the announcement that the train was nearing King’s Cross Station came over the loudspeaker, reminding Onoda that he was still wearing his school robes and would have to change back into his muggle clothes before leaving the train. After wearing his school robes almost exclusively for the past several months it felt very strange to be putting on an old jumper and jeans, the textures strange and the shapes unfamilliar. He was greeted by another surprise after doing up his jeans, as well-- the bottoms of his pant legs seemed to be hanging just a bit further away from the floor than they had the last time he had worn them.

It looked as if he had perhaps grown in more ways than he’d been aware of since coming to Hogwarts.

The rest of the trip passed by in a blur, and before long the rain was pulling into the King's Cross Station, and several hundred young magical children were allowed to disembark.

The first thing Onoda and his friends did after leaving the train was retrieve their trunks and Imaizumi’s owl cage from the baggage compartment, but to Onoda, even this action seemed to be simply delaying the inevitable.

“I think I see my family over there,” Naruko said, squinting past the people that blocked his view. “I guess I should probably go meet them now.”

“Yeah, I guess so,” Onoda said, throat tightening.

Stupid, he told himself. Of course Naruko wanted to see his family. And it wasn’t like they’d even be apart for a particularly long time either. This was hardly something to get worked up over, not when they’d be seeing each other again so soon. And Onoda was just being clingy and pathetic--it wasn’t like anyone else was reacting like this--

His thoughts were derailed when Naruko caught him in a tight hug. “I’m really going to miss you over break, Sakamichi,” he said earnestly. “Who am I going to teach cool flying moves to in the meantime, huh?” He followed this up by sticking his tongue out over Onoda’s shoulder, adding for Imaizumi’s benefit, “I won’t miss you at all, though, hotshot. It’ll be nice to have a break from you.”

“I feel the same way,” Imaizumi said. “Your absence for two full weeks is the best present you could ever give me.”

“Eat shit and die, Imaizumi,” Naruko said, giving Onoda one final squeeze before pulling away. “Merry Christmas, and I’ll see you two on the train ride back!”

Onoda and Imaizumi watched as Naruko dashed through the crowd, recklessly dragging his trunk. Within moments he was under attack by two brunette children, but he crouched down and caught them in his arms before they could succeed in knocking him over, laughing as they tried to avoid the kisses he pressed on the tops of their heads. A fierce-looking woman with fiery red hair in a messy ponytail said something to him as he hugged the two boys (his younger brothers, presumably), before he straightened and followed her. He took a moment to aim a grin and one final wave back toward where Imaizumi and Onoda still stood before vanishing through the platform barrier with his family.

Onoda, despite desperately trying to talk himself out of it, couldn’t shake the feeling of being somehow bereft all of a sudden. It would only be a couple of weeks before they would see Naruko again, and Onoda liked Imaizumi a lot, too, but....

It really was better when all three of them were together.

“Well, we should probably go and find my mom,” Onoda said in a determinedly cheerful voice. “She’ll probably be waiting somewhere outside.”

Imaizumi nodded vaguely, as they began to make their way through the crowd, and Onoda wondered if he felt at all the same as Onoda did right then.

“Why wouldn’t your mom just come in to meet us, though?” Imaizumi asked suddenly, confused. “Looks like all of the other parents are here for their kids.”

“Yeah, but she’s a muggle,” Onoda reminded him. “She can’t get through the barrier.”

“Oh. Right,” Imaizumi said, looking annoyed that he’d forgotten.

They walked in silence for several long moments before Imaizumi stopped in his tracks just as they were about to pass through the barrier into the main station. His face was twisted slightly, like something was troubling him. “And you’re okay with that?” he asked unexpectedly.

“Okay with what?”

“Does it bother you that your mom isn’t able to see you off as the train leaves?” Imaizumi asked. “Or that she can’t greet you as soon as you get back?”

Onoda frowned, confused. “I... don’t really know, I guess," he admitted. "Maybe it does a little, but it’s not like she’s really that much further away, so it doesn’t make much of a difference. And that’s just the way it is, so it’s not like complaining about it would change anything.”

“But... it’s kind of unfair, isn’t it?” Imaizumi pressed. “You’re right, it doesn’t really make a huge difference, but your mother and Naruko’s father... and pretty much every other muggle parent has to wait outside the platform instead of coming in with the rest of the magical parents. They get to see them all go in, though, and know that all of them are going to be able to see their children before they can. I wonder how that must feel.”

Onoda shifted uncomfortably. “Yeah, I think you’re right. It is kind of unfair-- I just hadn’t thought about it that much before. There are a lot of rules about how much about the wizarding world my mom is allowed to know about or see, so this always seemed like just... one of those things.”

“I’d never actually thought about it before now, either,” Imaizumi said, and Onoda was honestly a little concerned for him. He looked oddly disturbed by this realization. “I mean, my parents could send literally one owl and learn everything they wanted about what I was doing at Hogwarts, and they could see me off when I leave to go back there too, if they wanted. But your mother had to be okay with sending you off to some mysterious place to do things she’s barely allowed to know anything about. If you hadn’t sent her an owl in the first place she wouldn’t have been able to contact you at all.”

“Well, to be fair, my mom is a bit... different, so I don’t think she really minded sending me away to study magic, even if she wasn’t allowed to know much about it,” Onoda said. “But I see what you mean, that’s probably the kind of thing that would probably bother most people.”

“That’s what I thought too,” Imaizumi said quietly, continuing his previously abandoned passage through the barrier, and Onoda had the distinct impression that Imaizumi was finished with this line of discussion for the time being.

He wondered exactly what it meant that Imaizumi had brought it up now, though.

The world beyond Platform 9 and 3/4 was more jarring to Onoda than putting on his old street clothes had been. He hadn’t noticed it happening, but somewhere along the line he had gotten more used to indoor spaces being lit with magical candlelight, and he had forgotten about the existence of fluorescent lightbulbs almost entirely. His first reaction to the muggle portion of King’s Cross therefore involved a great deal of confused blinking, enough so that he didn’t even notice that they'd come out right next to his mother until he felt her wrap her arms around him.

“Sakamichi!” she said, holding her bewildered son tightly against her chest. “Welcome home.”

“Mom?” Onoda asked dumbly as the moment finally washed over him. His mother was here. He was home again.

On impulse, Onoda brought his own arms around her and clung desperately, forgetting for the moment that Imaizumi was still there and that he was probably embarrassing himself by acting like a needy child in front of him. But at the moment, this was too important. He had never been away from his mother for so long in his life, and hearing her voice again brought a profound sense of relief to a part of him that he had done his best to ignore for these past months.

“My goodness, it seems like such a long time since I last saw you,” Onoda’s mother said, and Onoda found himself completely in agreement with that sentiment. “And look at this! You seem to have grown a bit, too!”

“...It seems like I haven't seen you in forever,” Onoda managed eventually. “I missed you a lot too.”

When they finally drew back, Onoda was sniffling audibly despite his best efforts, and he thought his mother’s eyes looked suspiciously shiny. He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly before he belatedly remembered Imaizumi’s presence and rushed to apologize.

“Shunsuke-- I’m sorry, that was really rude of me, was’t it?” Onoda said, flushing red. “Sorry-- Shunsuke, this is my mom. Mom, this is Shunsuke. He’s the one I told you about in the last letter I sent to you. He’s--”

“You’re the rich athlete who’s friends with Sakamichi!” Onoda’s mother beamed, holding out a hand for him to shake, which Imaizumi tentatively took. It made for a bit of a strange sight, as Imaizumi, despite being eleven years old, was already taller than Onoda’s mother and smartly dressed to boot, yet still looked utterly intimidated by the short, curly haired woman in her flower-print cardigan and skirt.

“... And you must be Mrs. Onoda,” Imaizumi replied quietly. “I’m pleased to meet you, ma’am, and I’m very grateful for the invitation to spend Christmas with your family. I hope I’m not intruding--”

“So polite!” Onoda’s mother exclaimed, shooting a look at Onoda, who quailed with second-hand embarrassment. “Really, it’s no problem at all-- we’re happy to have you. Goodness knows Sakamichi never has friends over, so this will make for a nice change!”

Onoda’s flush deepened, and he found himself struggling to remember why he had thought this would be a good idea in the first place as his mother continued unabated. “I have to say, I didn’t really know what to expect when Sakamichi said he’d actually made friends at magic school,” she chattered. “I can’t say I was expecting someone like you, though. You’re so tall already! And you’re such a handsome boy, too-- you’re sure to be a heartbreaker one day, I guarantee it.”

“Uh...” Imaizumi said, looking at a loss for words. “Th-thank-you, ma’am...”

“Oh psssh,” she said. “Call me Sachiko, dear. And... whoops,” she looked at her watch, “well, we’d better get moving if we want to get away from here before our cab arrives. We can talk on the way out though. So tell me a bit about yourself, Shunsuke, Are you a Londoner? Which school did you go to before Hogwarts? What kinds of food do you like? I’ll be doing some baking in the next couple of days so if there’s anything in particular you want, just tell me and I‘ll make it for you.”

“Um...” Imaizumi said, looking a bit overwhelmed as he followed helplessly after her. “No, ma-- Sachiko, my family lives in Kent... and I... didn’t go to school before Hogwarts. I had tutors, so--”

“Ah, right!” Onoda’s mother said, nodding knowingly. “You were rich, so I guess it makes sense that you were homeschooled, I hear a lot of wealthy families are like that-- that’s fine, though! It must make it all the more exciting to go to school now and meet all the other students, right? But anyways, back to to my other question. Any requests before I start the baking?”

“I... I’m sure I’d be happy with anything you made.”

“Oh, I’m sure you have some opinion,” Onoda’s mother smiled stubbornly, clearly not willing to budge on this particular topic. “Just one thing, then?”

“Well...” Imaizumi said, looking at the ground. “I do like... carrot cake, I guess--”

“Done!” Onoda’s mother said cheerfully. “I’ll buy the ingredients for it tomorrow. My my, I haven’t made a carrot cake in years... but certainly not for lack of talent, my mother said once that I made a better carrot cake than she did. Mind you, my mother could burn water if you left her alone with the stove, so you can’t always take that as an indication of quality, but nonetheless I think that....”

Onoda took advantage of his mother’s distraction to lean in closer to Imaizumi and whisper, “Sorry, I probably should have warned you. My mother is a bit... intense.”

Imaizumi smiled faintly. “It’s alright... I understand.”

“She’s just a bit overexcited, I think,” Onoda said sheepishly. “She really likes guests.”

“It’s just a bit strange, that’s all-- she’s the complete opposite of my mother,” Imaizumi whispered back.

“Is that a good or a bad thing?”

Imaizumi smirked slightly. “Definitely a good thing. So don’t worry about it-- your mother is a good person, I can tell. ”

“Oh, okay then,” Onoda said, breathing a sigh of relief.

“It might just take a bit of time for me to... get used to her,” Imaizumi confessed with a nervous glance at Onoda’s mother.

Onoda chuckled. “That’s definitely fair.”

“Sakamichi, do I need to repeat that?”

Onoda’s eyes snapped back up at the sound of his mother’s raised voice. “Sorry, what did you say?”

His mother sighed. “I was just saying that you’ll need to pull the cot out of storage and set it up once we get back to the house. There are sheets in the linen cupboard that are the right size, just make sure you use the new set and not the old ones. I don’t even know why we’re keeping that set to be honest-- I seem to remember you cutting holes in the sheet for a Halloween costume a few years back--”

“Mom,” Onoda protested, covering his face in humiliation. “Okay, I’ll do it. Just please...”

“Please what?”

“...Nevermind,” Onoda said, defeated. There was pretty much no chance he would come out of this Christmas season with his pride intact, so he might as well accept it from the start. It wasn’t like Imaizumi had been under the impression that Onoda was particularly cool anyways, so it wasn’t like it would change anything about how Imaizumi saw him.

When they reached the station’s exit nearest to where Onoda’s mother had requested the cab pick them up they paused momentarily to do up jackets. It was then that Onoda’s mother noticed something in particular.

“Whatever happened to your gloves, Sakamichi?” she asked. “It’s not exactly warm outside, even if we’re not going to be out for long. You should put them on.”

“Oh,” Onoda said, his gaze dropping automatically to his bare hands. “I... don’t have them anymore,” he said. “I think I’ll need new ones.”

“You really should be more careful with your things, Sakamichi,” his mother said, shaking her head. “Did you lose them on the train?”

Onoda was suddenly very aware of the fact that Imaizumi was standing right next to him, and was perfectly able to hear everything he said. Imaizumi, who didn’t trust Slytherins. Who didn't know about Manami.

Onoda wanted this holiday to be a good one for Imaizumi, if possible. Even if it was inevitable that Imaizumi would learn about Onoda’s friendship with Manami one day, he would really rather it not be now. He didn’t need to be reminded of the house he disliked during a time when he really should just have the chance to relax and be happy.

At least, that was what Onoda told himself.

“Yeah, I guess that’s probably what happened,” Onoda lied. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright,” Onoda’s mother said. She sounded a bit disappointed, but thankfully not particularly angry. “We can get you a new pair. Just try not to lose these ones.”

Onoda recalled the way Manami had-- with a complete lack of sarcasm-- called the gloves ‘special,’ and had promised to wear them, not because he thought he needed them, but because Onoda would feel better if he did. Manami had even thanked Onoda for them.

And really, that thought made Onoda feel warm enough that, at that moment, he didn’t think he’d need gloves ever again.

“I don’t think that’ll be a problem,” Onoda said honestly, before their cab pulled up and the three of them exited the station doors and began to load the trunks for the ride home.

Chapter Text

Onoda jogged after Imaizumi, his breathing already coming out harsher than he wanted to admit. They were barely out of the house and already struggling to keep up with the other boy’s taller strides.

“Hey, wait! Shunsuke--” Onoda protested, halfway through pulling his (new) gloves on. “Where are we going?”

“Shopping,” Imaizumi said, glancing at Onoda with a questioning look in his eyes. “I thought we had agreed on that already.”

“Yes, but...” Onoda protested. “I didn't think we were going now. How are we supposed to get there? Mom’s at work so she can’t go with us... and I’ve never ordered a taxi and I don’t know which stops to get off on if we take the underground. So I was just--”

Imaizumi huffed out a breath which quickly condensed in the cold air. “Don’t be ridiculous,” he said. “You’re a wizard, Sakamichi. There’s really no reason for you to have to rely on muggle transit, especially when you’re trying to get somewhere as central as Diagon Alley.”

“But then... I thought we weren’t allowed to use magic outside of Hogwarts--” Onoda began, watching with trepidation as Imaizumi withdrew his wand from inside his coat.

Imaizumi looked confused for several seconds until he realized that it was his raised wand that was the cause of Onoda's unease. “You misunderstand,” he said, shaking his head. He held the wand out in front of him more decisively. “I’m not using magic, I’m just... signaling.”

“Signaling?” Onoda asked, baffled. “Signaling for what?”

Onoda didn’t have long to wonder, before a resounding crack split the air, and a large, violently purple triple-decker bus appeared on the street immediately in front of them.

Onoda stumbled backwards and probably would have fallen had Imaizumi not extended an arm and caught him by the shoulder of his coat.

“The Knight Bus,” Imaizumi said by way of response, who, after releasing Onoda and pulling out his wallet, proceeded to approach the bus with an air of casualness that Onoda did not share in the slightest. “It’s the fastest and easiest way for us to get to Diagon Alley,” he said over his shoulder at Onoda, who had yet to take one step closer to the vehicle than he already was.

Onoda gaped at the bus for a few seconds more before hurrying to catch up with Imaizumi, who had already passed through the doors.

Once they were both inside, Imaizumi paid the smiling conductor 22 sickles out of his own wallet (covering both his own fare as well as Onoda’s, despite Onoda’s protests). They then made their way into the back of the-- surprisingly deserted-- lowest level of the bus, Onoda sticking close to Imaizumi out of nervousness.

The inside of the Knight Bus looked nothing like any bus Onoda had ever seen. Instead of the customary rows of uniform seats that he was expecting, there were a variety of mismatched seats scattered across the floor, including several wooden chairs that appeared to be from a kitchen set, a few worn-looking recliners, a sofa, and even a three legged stool.

It did not escape Onoda’s notice that nothing appeared to be bolted down, either.

Imaizumi approached one of the recliners, dusting it off slightly with a small grimace before sitting down. Onoda took a seat on the sofa, in the vain hope that choosing the heaviest seat might minimize his chances chances of becoming airborne when the bus was in motion.

Sure enough, when the bus began moving again it shot forward with hardly any warning, sending all of the chairs--including their occupants-- racing backward until they were pressed up in a mass against the back wall of the bus. Onoda quickly pulled his legs up onto the couch to keep them from getting crushed. The next turn sent the chairs skimming off to the left, and the following stop sent everything flying forward again.

Imaizumi’s expression, meanwhile, told Onoda that he saw this as being entirely normal, if a little inconvenient.

“Where... exactly are we?” Onoda eventually worked up the courage to ask, glancing around nervously at the surroundings, which began sliding dangerously across the floor again as the bus continued to lurch violently along its route.

“The Knight Bus--”

“I know that already!” Onoda exclaimed, alarm tainting his voice with more impatience than he had intended. “But what is the Knight Bus, really?”

“The Knight Bus provides transportation for stranded witches and wizards,” Imaizumi said, as if this was commonplace knowledge. “Of course, most witches and wizards who are of age can Apparate, arrange a Portkey in advance or apply to have their fireplaces connected to the Floo Network if they need to get somewhere, but underage wizards as well as the old and the sick aren’t always able to do that. So the Knight Bus is a service that’s available to those who can’t travel by magical means, for whatever reason.”

“And you’ve... ridden it before?” Onoda asked hopefully. If Imaizumi had ridden the Knight Bus before and survived, then....

“The Knight Bus? Of course not,” Imaizumi said dismissively, as if the notion was absurd. “Can you imagine me having ever been in a situation in the past where I might have needed to take public transit? My family certainly wouldn’t have allowed it even if I had the opportunity to go somewhere not expressly decided by them in advance.”

Onoda was definitely not imagining the bitterness in Imaizumi’s voice as he uttered those words.

“Oh... okay, then,” Onoda said awkwardly. “But... it is safe, right?”

“Safe enough,” Imaizumi said, ducking as a particularly strong lurch sent a sofa cushion flying over his head. “We should get as far as the Leaky Cauldron, at least,” he amended. “Since it’s a quick trip.”

This assertion did not exactly inspire an abundance of confidence in Onoda, and he breathed a sigh of relief when they finally disembarked in front of the Leaky Cauldron, barely any worse for wear than they had been before.

“How about we meet back at Florian Fortescue’s in two hours?” Imaizumi asked, once they had entered the Alley via the hidden door at the back of the pub.

“Wait... we’re splitting up?” Onoda asked, alarmed. He had not forseen being separated from Imaizumi when they had originally planned this trip out. He could vividly recall the last time he had ended up alone in Diagon Alley, and the memory of it was... not pleasant.

And if he got lost this time, there would be no Naruko to save him.

“Of course, dummy,” Imaizumi said, rolling his eyes. “We need to get presents for each other too, after all.”

“I already have your present,” Onoda said helplessly, although he doubted it would do anything to change Imaizumi’s mind. “Mom picked it up on her way home from work the other day. And didn’t you tell Shoukichi that you already had something for me?”

“Yes, but that was to Naruko-- he was being a pain and I needed to say something to shut him up. Anyways, I do know what I want to get you, I just have to go and pick it up now.” Imaizumi said, his expression gentling almost imperceptibly as he took in just how alarmed Onoda was. “Sakamichi, it’ll be fine, I promise. Look, if you want you can just stay at Florean Fortescue’s and wait until I’m done, then I’ll take you around to get whatever else you need. Would that be better?”

It was a sorely tempting offer, but it was then that Onoda also remembered he needed to find a better present for Manami, and he couldn’t do that where Imaizumi might see and ask questions. And Imaizumi had essentially given him the perfect excuse to shop on his own, so Onoda would be a fool if he didn’t take it.

Even if he’d have to master his fear of getting lost first.

“No, it’s okay,” Onoda heard himself saying. “I think I should be able to handle it on my own. Besides, it’ll take twice as long if I do all my shopping after yours and I'm pretty sure my Mom would want us to get back before dark.”

“You’re sure?” Imaizumi asked, raising an eyebrow. “You’re not just saying that because you think it’ll be troublesome for me to have to guide you around?”

“No, no... I really mean it,” Onoda assured him. “I’ll be fine.”

Imaizumi eyed him dubiously, but eventually he sighed, turning away with a small huff. “Well, whatever you say,” Imaizumi said. “But if you get lost, just ask someone for directions. Any of the shopkeepers should be able to help.”

Onoda nodded vigorously. “I’ll do that,” he said, hoping Imaizumi would be satisfied with that and not question him further.

“Well then,” Imaizumi said. He seemed to be carefully eying Onoda in case he showed a hint of having been dishonest with him. “I’ll see you soon.”

“You too,” Onoda said, attempting to affect a casual voice as Imaizumi walked away and was quickly swallowed up by the crowd.

And thus began Onoda’s first time ever Christmas shopping on his own.

And what’s more, it looked like his first time Christmas shopping alone was going to be in the wizarding world, which was perhaps teeming with even more ways to kill him than the one he was used to.

Onoda swallowed, steeling himself for the inevitable rush of fear, which was quick to make its presence known as he looked around him, taking in the narrow streets, the shop windows filled with loud Christmas displays and the masses of people who were there to mingle or were just passing through on their way to another part of the Alley.

Having already chosen Imaizumi’s present, Onoda figured that the number of people on his Christmas list was probably four-- he’d need to find something for Naruko, his mother, maybe something for Miki as well, and something for Manami.

Even for just four people, the thought that he’d have to find all of them gifts in Diagon Alley in two hours was overwhelming.

Take it easy, Onoda reminded himself, attempting to stave off his rising panic. Just take it one step at a time. You can do this.

Once he had his breathing under control Onoda forced himself away from the relative safety of the familiar ice cream parlour and into the crowds of holiday shoppers. Having very little idea what he was looking for, Onoda found himself peering up at signs and looking into a variety of shop windows filled with many different wares, stopping in every once in awhile to see if there was anything inside that looked like a promising gift.

It was using this strategy that Onoda found an appropriate gift for his mother, finally ending up inside flowery pink store marked “Rosa Lea Teabag,” which, unsurprisingly, carried a vast number of different types of tea, of both the bagged and loose-leaf variety. Most of the names (and really, most of the ingredients) were not things he recognized, but he eventually found one he liked-- a pleasantly light blend that smelled like a combination of some type of fruit and something sweeter. Bubblegum, perhaps.

The shopkeeper, thankfully, had been extremely pleasant to him despite his shyness when he approached her to buy the tea, and as she wrapped it up for him she had also done him the favour of reassuring him that the type he had chosen wouldn’t have any strange magical effect if it was to be prepared by non-magical means and drunk by a muggle as opposed to a wizard. So at the very least, Onoda wouldn’t have to worry about ruining Christmas by incapacitating his mother with magical tea, which was one less worry off his mind.

At Sugarplum’s Sweets Shop Onoda found Naruko’s present, which ended up being an unhealthy amount of candy. Onoda had already been thinking about this particular present in advance, and at a loss for anything better, he had decided that this was an opportunity to finally repay Naruko for all the candy he had given him before that Onoda hadn’t paid back yet. While in theory this might have been a good plan, Onoda had never bought wizard sweets for himself before and it turned out he still had very little idea of what most of them were, let alone what Naruko liked. In the end he chose some completely at random and decided to hope for the best. It was kind of a bad present in Onoda’s opinion, but at the very least he hoped Naruko might get a laugh out of it.

After several more minutes of aimless wandering Onoda finally found himself in an area of Diagon Alley he was slightly more familiar with, since he recognized it as being where he had picked up the majority of the books and supplies that had been on his school list the previous summer. He didn’t think an encyclopedia of different types of flesh-eating plants or a history textbook would go over particularly well with either of the people he had to buy gifts for still (Miki and Manami), but he decided to check Obscurus Books anyways just in case.

It turned out to be a good move, because within ten minutes of searching the crowded rows of bookshelves Onoda had found the perfect gift for Miki-- a sturdy, leather-bound logbook that he was sure would come in handy for her flying practice. It was a bit more money than he had been planning to spend on any one person, but she had always been very kind to him and he figured she deserved it. It was just too perfect to pass up on.

Inspired by his success at the bookstore, Onoda had gone into another store he’d recognized, Slug & Jiggers Apothecary, but had left just as hastily when he remembered that that particular shop was probably not the place to be buying gifts unless he thought Manami would secretly be thrilled to receive a sack of Bulk Slippery Eel Skin (two sickles per pound) as his gift from Onoda. Knowing what little he did about Manami, Onoda wouldn’t be surprised if Manami was actually a fan of some things that would be considered bizarre by most people, but he had promised Manami a better gift than a pair of old gloves and he wasn’t going to chance it by buying him something weird. Especially if that something was Bulk Slippery Eel Skin.

Scribbulus Writing Instruments was where Onoda finally found Manami’s present-- a long, elegant eagle feather quill that he had spotted in a display case beside the front counter. Part of him immediately rejected the idea of giving something like that to Manami, since he knew Manami hated school and probably wouldn’t use it, but he also remembered that the first words Manami had ever communicated to him had been written ones, and that seemed significant enough to Onoda to merit giving a writing tool to him as a gift. It was all ridiculously sentimental to such a degree that Onoda almost felt embarrassed as the shopkeeper wrapped the quill in tissue and placed it in a skinny gift box, despite the fact that said shopkeeper almost certainly had no idea what Onoda’s reasoning for choosing it in the first place was.

But ... for some reason, a feather just felt like such an appropriate gift to give to Manami that Onoda didn’t even bother trying to talk himself out of it. He had no idea why, but it just fit in some inexplicable way.

And with that, Onoda figured he had bought everything he needed to. In the end, it didn’t take too much effort on Onoda’s part to retrace his footsteps back to Florean Fortescue’s with his new purchases, since he was moving with the flow of the crowd for the most part as they headed home for dinner, and now he noticed more familiar shops that he could use as landmarks than he ever had before. Hopefully this meant he would have an even easier time finding his way around the next time he ended up in Diagon Alley alone.

Imaizumi was already at the ice cream parlour by the time Onoda arrived, with only one small bag sitting next to him as proof that he had gone shopping at all. He was drinking tea out of a mug, which he put down as he noticed Onoda’s approach.

“Sakamichi,” he greeted. “You’re back earlier than I thought you’d be.”

“So are you,” Onoda said, taking the seat across from him. “Did you find everything you were looking for?”

Imaizumi nodded. “I think so,” he said, before adding, in a slightly nervous voice, “although I admit I’m still not entirely sure about your mother’s gift. I wasn’t sure what she would like, or what would be... appropriate, I guess. I’ve never bought a present for a muggle before, and I--”

“I’m sure it’ll be fine!” Onoda said, waving his hands. “Really! She’s so happy to have you over that that might as well be your gift to her. But if you want to give her something else then I know she’ll appreciate the thought no matter what the present actually is, as long as it’s from you.”

Imaizumi cast Onoda a look that was simultaneously doubtful and helpless, before he shook it off and directed his attention back toward his tea.

They took the Knight Bus back to Onoda’s house, their wallets considerably lighter, and once they had stowed their purchases away where the other wouldn’t accidentally stumble upon them before they put them out under the tree (Onoda’s on the top shelf of his closet, Imaizumi’s in his luggage), they went down to the kitchen for the chips and soda Onoda’s mother had bought to tide them over until she arrived home with take-out after he shift. Once they had loaded up on snacks, they went back to Onoda’s room and Onoda booted up his Playstation and put in a two-player fighting game.

Imaizumi was against it from the start, even after Onoda had explained how the game worked and what all the buttons on the controller did.

“I’m not very good at games,” he said, looking dubiously at the controller Onoda was offering to him.

“It’s okay, I’m not very good either,” Onoda said reassuringly. “So we should be pretty evenly matched.”

And he was right--they were well-matched at first. Onoda narrowly won the first game they played, scraping by on two wins and one loss (Imaizumi had landed a lucky hit when Onoda had accidentally dropped his controller), although within five rounds of when they started Imaizumi evidently was settling into a groove of some kind.

“Oh wow, you’re actually kind of good at this,” Onoda said in a strained voice as Imaizumi’s character scored a combo and blew the head of Onoda’s character clean off. He wondered offhandedly if that had simply been a lucky shot or if Imaizumi was actually starting to figure out the controls.

“It’s all just patterns, really,” Imaizumi said, as the countdown for the next round began. “And timing. I take it this is how muggles duel each other?”

Onoda winced as his character received a roundhouse kick to the gut from Imaizumi’s. “Not exactly. Like I said, it’s just a game. Muggles-- people play it for fun, not to... I don’t know, prove a point or protect their honour. At least, I don’t think most people do? It would be kind of weird if they did, anyways.”

“Hmm,” Imaizumi said, and they duked it out for several more seconds before he hit another combo that trapped Onoda’s character in an inferno. The red GAME OVER sign lit up the screen, the siren barely covering the hapless character’s death keen.

Okay, that had definitely not been a coincidence.

“Want to go again?” Imaizumi asked.

Onoda was not especially eager to play another round after that-- Imaizumi, meanwhile, seemed to have decided that video games were “okay,” an opinion which might have been slightly influenced by the fact that he was apparently a quick learner when it came to them. Nevertheless, Imaizumi had accepted it with quiet grace when Onoda turned off the game and put in a DVD instead.

One thing Onoda had realized during his time at Hogwarts was that there was no such thing as “wizard television.” TV was, the way Onoda understood it, a strictly muggle device. Any wizards who had such a thing tended to be people like Naruko’s family, who used a mishmash of conveniences from the muggle world as well as the wizarding world in their day-to-day life.

Therefore, it seemed very unlikely that Imaizumi, who grew up in a very traditional magical family, would have ever experienced the wonder that was trashy muggle action movies.

“What’s that thing the main character’s holding?” Imaizumi asked after about ten minutes of quietly watching the screen.

Onoda blinked. “Uh. That’s a gun. Do you... know what a gun is?”

Comprehension slowly dawned on Imaizumi’s face. “Oh, yes,” he said. “From what I’ve heard, they’re like... wand-replacements for muggles, only their only practical purpose is to kill other muggles or sometimes animals. Is that right?”

“Umm... yeah, sure,” Onoda said eventually, unable to point out anything specifically wrong with Imaizumi’s explanation.

“They’re just bigger than I always thought they’d be,” Imaizumi continued. “And I’m surprised that muggle actors would take such risks just for the sake of entertainment.”

Onoda frowned, feeling as if he’d missed something. “Oh,” he said, as realization struck. “No, they’re not using real guns. It’s all just special effects to make it seem more real. The actors are all perfectly safe.”

“Oh. Okay,” Imaizumi said, not looking fully convinced but apparently willing to trust Onoda’s explanation. “It just looks really real, is all.”

They watched the movie in silence for several more long minutes, Imaizumi staring intently at the screen with his chin resting in his hands, as if seeking some deeper meaning in the--admittedly contrived-- plot about a former cop facing down a group of heinous criminals so he could return to his family.

“I like the music,” Imaizumi said unexpectedly, right in the middle of a particularly intense action sequence as the villain got the upper hand in a fistfight with the already battered and bruised main character.

“Huh?” Onoda asked.

“The music,” Imaizumi repeated. "I like it, it’s... exciting.”

Onoda had barely noticed the music underlying the fight scene, but once Imaizumi mentioned it, Onoda took note. It was a fairly generic action theme and to Onoda, didn’t particularly sound like anything special. But apparently it did to Imaizumi.

“I’ll see if I can find the soundtrack online later, if you’d like?” Onoda offered. “Do you have an mp3 player or...?”

Imaizumi gave him a blank look.

“...I guess not,” Onoda said. “Maybe I’ll be able to get you one next Christmas, then.”

Once the hero had been happily reunited with his family and the end credits had finished rolling (Imaizumi hadn’t wanted to stop the movie until they had listened to the entire credit reel soundtrack), they decided on another movie from the shelf next to Onoda’s bed and put it into the DVD player.

This film was different from the last in that it was a cartoon, although it was every bit as trashy as the first. It had been a favourite of Onoda’s as a child, but he found himself beginning to question his own taste the more of it he watched. The jokes were not nearly as funny as Onoda had remembered them being, the characters were shallow and bland, and the CGI had aged noticeably poorly in the time since the movie had been released.

But Imaizumi liked the music in this one too, so at least it wasn’t a complete loss.

They ended up having to pause this movie partway through when Onoda’s mom arrived home with take-out from the pizza place down the street. She greeted them cheerfully as she put the food down on the table and took off her coat, directing Onoda to pour them all some drinks and ushering Imaizumi to sit down (since he was a guest, and she was resolutely determined to keep him from having to do chores despite his willingness to help). Once all the preparations had been made, the three of them sat down at the small kitchen table and began to eat.

It was Imaizumi’s first time trying pizza, and he seemed to enjoy it once he realized he didn’t like olives and began picking them off his slices before eating them. It was pleasant being able to eat dinner together, even if Onoda’s mother was a bit too enthusiastic about refilling Imaizumi’s plate every time he finished off a slice (because he was “far too skinny for a growing boy”), and Imaizumi was apparently still far too afraid that he might accidentally offend Onoda’s mother to refuse.

After both Onoda and Imaizumi had eaten far more pizza than they really needed to and the few leftovers that remained had been put away, they were free to go back to Onoda’s room and finish the movie they had started. They watched yet another movie after that, and by the time that one was finished they were both having trouble keeping their eyes open. By unspoken agreement, they both got ready for bed.

On his first day with the Onoda family, Onoda had offered to take the cot himself, leaving Onoda’s bed for Imaizumi. He figured that this would be the most comfortable arrangement for Imaizumi, since he was undoubtedly accustomed to a more luxurious sleeping arrangement and, while Onoda’s bed would be a poor substitute, it was certainly a better replacement than the fold-out cot would be. Imaizumi, however, had outright insisted on sleeping on the cot and wouldn’t budge no matter what Onoda said, so he didn’t bother pressing the issue anymore, even if it embarrassed him to have so little to have such a poor bed to offer the first friend to ever sleep over at his house. If Imaizumi was actually as uncomfortable on the cot as Onoda worried he was, he never showed it outwardly, and never complained.

Once they were both ready to sleep, Onoda flicked off the lightswitch and climbed into bed, pulling his covers up to his chin and trying to shift into a more comfortable position as the sounds of moving fabric on the other side of the room confirmed Imaizumi was probably doing the same thing. Eventually the noises quieted, until the only indication that Onoda wasn’t alone in the room was the soft, almost indiscernible sound of another person’s breathing.

Onoda probably would have fallen asleep like that, and he nearly did, but he was prevented from doing so by an unexpected sound in the otherwise quiet room.

“Thank you.”

Onoda heard Imaizumi’s voice, although it was too dark to see his face.

“For what?” Onoda asked, confused. “I didn’t do anything.”

There was only silence for several seconds after that before there was a small intake of breath, and Onoda heard Imaizumi say in a quieter voice, “For today. I... had fun.”

Onoda’s first instinct was to make excuses, because really, it hadn’t been that special of a day. Onoda had been annoyingly cowardly (and probably clingy) when they went to Diagon Alley, and when they got back his plans had failed to include anything more interesting than playing video games and watching movies, which were things Onoda would usually do by himself even if he didn’t have a guest over.

Surely Imaizumi was just being polite, because there was no way he could have found a day like that fun.

But... Onoda thought of the satisfaction he felt at having found gifts for all the important people in his life-- and the fact that he had important people in his life now, other than his mom, and thought that maybe that was at least a little bit special.

And maybe video games and movies were something that Onoda was used to, but they had been totally new to Imaizumi. And there did seem to be a difference between just watching things or playing games because you’re alone and have nothing better to do and sharing them with a friend because you wanted to do something you enjoyed with them.

“I had fun too,” Onoda said eventually, staring up at the ceiling. “Tomorrow... I have lots more movies and my mom has a bunch, too--mostly romcoms and stuff, but a lot of them are really good. We can watch some more, if you want?”

There was another sound, like Imaizumi had just rolled over. “I’d like that,” came the hesitant reply.

Sensing that Imaizumi had said whatever he had wanted to say, Onoda finished their exchange with a, “Goodnight, Shunsuke. See you tomorrow.”

“Goodnight, Sakamichi,” Imaizumi replied.

***

On Christmas morning, Onoda and Imaizumi awoke to the smell of pancakes and sausages.

Since she had the day off from work, Onoda’s mom had opted to cook breakfast for the three of them, and they ate this together before they were inevitably drawn toward the small Christmas tree in the living room. Or more specifically, toward the brightly wrapped presents that had been piled underneath it.

“Tea? Thank you, Sakamichi, that’s very thoughtful of you,” Onoda’s mom beamed, examining the pretty floral-patterned box it had come in. “I don’t think I’ve ever tried this kind before. I wonder if it’s one of those new herbal kinds all the health magazines are talking about...”

“Uh, it might be similar to that?” Onoda offered lamely. “I just thought it smelled nice.”

Onoda’s mom took a small sniff of the boxes contents and nodded. “I agree, that is rather nice. Maybe I’ll go brew some up now so we can all try some.”

“It’s your gift, mom, you don’t have to share it with us!” Onoda protested.

“Nonsense--if it’s mine, I’ll do what I want with it. And what I want to do is share it,” she insisted, making her way into the kitchen with the box of tea. “I’ll be back in a flash, keep opening your gifts in the meantime.”

Onoda gave up, sensing that there was no way he was going to win this argument.

“Thank you, Sakamichi,” Imaizumi said, carefully putting aside Onoda’s present to him, a full set of the comic series he had been borrowing from Onoda for the past few months. “I was just wondering whether I should be buying my own set, but I wouldn’t have had the first idea of where to find them.”

“It’s no problem,” Onoda said, smiling at him. “I’m glad you like them! I was just worried it might seem like sort of a boring present to you.”

Imaizumi smiled slightly. “It’s perfect. Far better than what Naruko got me, at any rate.”

Onoda blinked, realizing he had completely forgotten about the beleaguered owl that had arrived the previous day, carrying two brown paper-wrapped packages. “Oh yeah, I forgot we still have to open Naruko’s presents as well. What did he get you?”

Imaizumi held the box out to Onoda. “See for yourself.”

There was some sort of device in the box, nestled in with a large complement of styrofoam packing chips. Judging by Imaizumi’s reaction, Onoda had been expecting something very strange, but the item was actually pretty normal looking to him. In fact, it looked exactly like a--

“I think it’s a hairdryer,” Onoda said, although that in itself raised more questions than it answered.

“It’s a what?” Imaizumi asked in a put-upon voice. “Is that some kind of muggle thing? And why would he give it to me?”

“It um... it’s something that dries hair?” Onoda said, doing his best to answer. “I don’t know, they’re pretty useful. I mean... well, how do wizards usually dry their hair?”

“With a towel,” Imaizumi said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “Or a spell, if you don’t want to wait that long.”

“Oh,” Onoda said, picking up one of the styrofoam chips and fidgeting with it.

It was only then that Onoda noticed a small slip of paper partially buried in the packing chips. He pulled it out and handed it to Imaizumi, who unfolded it and began to read.

After only a few seconds, Imaizumi lowered the piece of paper with a slight grimace. “Figures,” he said.

“What?”

Imaizumi tossed the paper to him. “You can read it if you want.”

Written on the paper (torn from a looseleaf notebook by the looks of it), were a few lines of text in Naruko’s angular printing. It read:

Dear Hotshot,

I saw this and I thought of you. Because you are both tools and both blow hot air. You’re a pain but I hope you have a Merry Christmas anyways because I’m capable of being the bigger person here.

Yours truly,

Shoukichi Naruko

Onoda opened and closed his mouth a few times, unsure of what to say. “Well that is... um....”

Onoda was surprised when Imaizumi chuckled slightly. Out of all the reactions Onoda had expected, this hadn’t been one of them. It was rare enough to hear Imaizumi laugh in the first place, let alone hear him laugh after being blatantly insulted (even if it was just via a rude note).

“Uh... what’s so funny?” he asked tentatively.

Imaizumi cast a wry grin at Onoda. “It’s nothing, really. It’s just... I was just thinking that in the note, Naruko says he’s being ‘the bigger person,’ but--” he snorted, “that’s be the day, wouldn’t it? He’d have to grow a bit beyond the size of an eight-year-old first if he wanted--” Imaizumi broke off, evidently remembering who he was talking to. “I-I didn’t mean... I’m not making fun of you, I promise! There’s nothing wrong with being short, it’s just, well... Naruko, you know--”

“It’s okay,” Onoda interrupted, before Imaizumi could beat himself up over it. “I’m not offended. And Shoukichi did start it, I suppose.”

Imaizumi nodded, then quickly continued, changing the subject, “So, what did the red menace get for you?”

It turned out Naruko had bought Onoda several new comic books with titles he didn’t recognize, and after several moments of flipping through them he realized that it was because they were wizard comics, like the ones Imaizumi had mentioned the day they first met on the Hogwarts Express. The characters in the pictures all moved, appearing to have conversations with each other or brandish wands completely on their own.

It was a very cool present, and Onoda was looking forward to reading them. He would have to remember to thank Naruko when they met up again at the end of the holidays.

The next gift that Onoda opened was small but surprisingly heavy, and the tag on the front told him it was from Imaizumi. Truthfully, he had absolutely no idea what the other boy might have decided would make a good gift for him. He had said he had known what he wanted to get Onoda in advance, though, so he was probably pretty confident in his choice, whatever that might be.

Imaizumi’s gift ended up being what appeared to be a set of handsome brass binoculars with a number of small, strange-looking dials around the eyepieces. They looked vaguely familiar to Onoda, but he couldn’t quite place where he might have seen them until Imaizumi spoke up.

“They’re Omnioculars,” Imaizumi explained, shifting awkwardly in his seat. “Miki has a pair that she brings with her to Quidditch matches, so you might’ve seen hers before. Anyways, they’re really useful for spectators at Quidditch matches-- they magnify things, and they let you slow down, pause, or replay events. I just thought it would be good if you had a set, since you’re trying to learn how to play Quidditch and it’s far easier to do that when you can actually see how others do it.”

Onoda felt his throat tighten. “You... got these just for me?”

“Yes?” Imaizumi said tentatively.

“But my present to you was just comics you’ve already read-- that’s nowhere near as cool as these are!” Onoda said desperately. “They look really useful and they must have been expensive--”

“They weren’t, really,” Imaizumi said, although he didn’t meet Onoda’s eyes as he said it and Onoda was pretty sure he was lying.

“What was expensive?” Onoda’s mother asked, choosing that exact moment to appear with a tray full of steaming teacups. Upon spotting the Omnioculars, she gasped, “My, those are beautiful. Were those from you, Shunsuke? Sakamichi, did you remember to thank Shunsuke for his gift?”

“Uh, yes, thank you,” Onoda said, remembering his manners. “Thank you very much.”

“It was nothing,” Imaizumi said, sounding embarrassed and like he’d prefer to have the subject dropped entirely.

“You got something for me as well, Shunsuke?” Onoda’s mom asked, picking up another present--even smaller than Onoda’s had been-- from under the tree. “Really, you didn’t have to.”

“It’s not anything big,” Imaizumi said, now looking even more as if he’d like to sink into the ground. “It was very generous of you to allow me to stay here over Christmas so I wanted to give you something to... indicate my thanks.”

“Oh, pshh. Of course you’re welcome here, regardless of whether you bring a gift or not” Onoda’s mother said, unwrapping the tiny box. “After all, it wouldn’t do to have-- oh my goodness!” she exclaimed.

Onoda looked up, wondering what had shocked his mother so, and saw her holding a tiny velvet box inside which was a beautiful gold necklace set with clear blue stones.

Onoda’s mother was utterly speechless for once, seemingly unable to form words in her surprise.

“I don’t know much about your preferences, so I guessed on the type of jewel,” Imaizumi said quickly, apparently feeling the need to explain himself in his discomfort. “I also don’t know how the quality would compare to a similar style by a muggle goldsmith, but I bought this from the jeweler my family has been commissioning from for the last several hundred years, so they were the most reliable source I could think of in a hurry,” he said. “I hope that’s alright with you.”

“Y-you mean,” Onoda’s mother stuttered. “These are real?”

Imaizumi cocked his head slightly, evidently confused. “Real? Of course-- sapphires and gold... 18 Karat, I believe? I wouldn’t give you a low-quality knockoff, even if I was short on time.”

Onoda’s mother made a small strangled sound, but eventually managed to squeak out, “Thank you, Shunsuke, it’s very beautiful. But... I don’t think I can accept such an expensive gift.”

“Why not?” Imaizumi asked defensively. “It’s not like you told me to buy it for you. I don’t have many important things to use my money for, so I’d rather spend it on people who deserve it than let it sit and gather dust in Gringotts.”

He said this all with an absolutely straight face, and Onoda knew that Imaizumi believed what he was saying with every ounce of his being.

“Well, then,” Onoda’s mother said once she was in better control of herself, although she still sounded somewhat choked up as she gingerly closed the box, as if worried she might damage it. “I suppose it would be rude of me to appear ungrateful for your generosity, then. Thank-you so much for this, Shunsuke. I promise I will treasure it forever.”

“It’s really the least I could do,” Imaizumi replied quietly. “I owe you far more than this for your kindness.”

“As I’ve said, it was--”

“--It was no problem, I know, but it still means a lot to me,” Imaizumi said, eyes fixed on the floor once again.

“Ah, that’s right!” Onoda’s mother exclaimed, clapping her hands together. “I still haven’t given you two my gifts yet!”

Onoda wasn’t sure if his mother was better at reading the mood than he thought she was or if it had just been a coincidence, but he was glad she had managed to direct the focus away from Imaizumi, who looked grateful at the excuse to no longer be the center of attention.

The box she gave Imaizumi contained a large portion of fudge and cookies from the baking Onoda’s mother had done before Christmas, as well as a copy of her carrot cake recipe and a handmade voucher that she said had unlimited uses and entitled him to come and visit any time he wanted. She explained that, since Onoda had told her Imaizumi was both rich and from a wizard-only family she hadn’t been able to think of an appropriate gift for him in time, but she had wanted to give him something anyway and hoped he wouldn’t find it disappointing. Imaizumi, far from being disappointed, looked legitimately touched at the gesture and had thanked Onoda’s mother profusely.

To Onoda, she handed a plain white envelope. He tore this open carefully, and from inside pulled out a small stack of 20 pound notes.

His eyes widened, as he realized that this was likely the largest sum of money he had received from anyone in his life.

“I know it’s not much,” Onoda’s mother said, breaking him out of his momentary stupour, “but that wizard bank of yours does change regular money for wizard money, doesn’t it?”

“Gringotts? Yes, it does...” Onoda said. “But mom, this is....”

“I decided that I’d let you choose what you wanted for Christmas this year,” Onoda’s mom said decisively. “Don’t say it’s too much, because it isn’t. You barely have any spending money as it is, and I figured-- what with all of these flying lessons with magical broomsticks and such-- you might want to be able to buy more than just school supplies soon. Now at least you should be able to do that.”

Onoda was still trying to wrap his head around the idea that his mom had essentially just given him money to buy a broomstick. Had given him money to buy a broomstick so that next year he could play a ridiculously dangerous magical sport against a number of older and more experienced players on a hopefully regular basis. But it was an extremely thoughtful gift, and it was heartening to see that his mother believed in him to this extent. She was also absolutely correct-- he would be needing a broom of his own soon if he wanted to stand a chance of making the Hufflepuff team, and he was sure that her gift would help him with that.

“Thank-you so much, mom,” Onoda said, putting aside the money and standing so that he could wrap his arms around her in a tight embrace. “I’ll put it to good use, I promise.”

“I’m sure you will,” his mother said, and although he couldn’t see her face, Onoda was sure she was smiling.

***

The remaining holidays passed by quickly, and soon Onoda and Imaizumi were once again preparing to board the Hogwarts Express for the return trip to school.

The morning of their departure, Onoda’s mother made breakfast (french toast and bacon this time), which they ate quickly in between hunting down items that they had missed during the initial whirlwind of packing, the minimal personal grooming time allowed, and settling an irritable Psyche into her cage for the long ride back to Hogwarts.

It felt strange to be sitting next to Imaizumi in the cab to King’s Cross, since the last time Onoda had left home for Hogwarts he had felt alone in every sense of the word. He also found that unlike last time, this time there was no tight knot of worry in his gut over leaving his home and mother behind. He would miss her certainly, but he now had the benefit of knowing that she would be fine on her own, and that he would as well.

He was surprised at how much he had actually missed the castle in his absence. Whether he liked it or not, it seemed that Hogwarts owned a part of his heart now as well, and most of the emotions that he experienced regarding their impeding return were happy ones.

Once they had said goodbye to Onoda’s mother and both received fierce hugs (to their shared embarrassment), Imaizumi and Onoda crossed the barrier, pushing their heavy trolleys in front of them. After loading their larger pieces of luggage into the baggage car, they boarded the train and found an empty compartment, which they seated themselves in while the rest of the students boarded.

“Here we go again,” Onoda said, sending a smile Imaizumi’s way, thinking about their first meeting in a compartment on the way to Hogwarts.

Imaizumi clearly picked up on the meaning behind Onoda’s words, because he smiled slightly in return. “Let’s try to get along better than we did last time,” he said, a note of humour creeping into his voice.

Less than fifteen minutes after they had settled in, the compartment door slammed open, revealing a very short, very redheaded someone in a familiar state of disarray. Upon spotting Onoda, the aforementioned newcomer launched himself across the small space, practically landing on top of Onoda in his haste to catch him in a vice-like excuse for a hug.

“Sakamichi!” Naruko exclaimed, blissfully unaware of the fact that he was practically squashing Onoda’s face against his neck. “You made it through the holidays with hotshot all in one piece! I was afraid I’d never get to see you again!”

“Excuse me?” Imaizumi hissed. “Sakamichi had no trouble surviving the holidays with me. You’re the one who’s trying to strangle him, don’t bring me into this--

Onoda would have stepped in to assure them that it was fine, except that it was at that moment that Onoda felt something warm and alive scuttle up his back, and he responded the way any normal person would.

By leaping from his seat and screaming bloody murder.

The next several minutes were devoted to a thoroughly alarmed Imaizumi and Naruko attempting to ascertain the reason why Onoda was panicking and pulling at his clothes like they were burning him, but after a considerable amount of confused scrambling, the perpetrator of the incident was finally jostled free from Onoda’s shirt and fell out onto the carpet.

The perpetrator in question being a small and familiar-looking fluffy red ball.

“Ah--Quaffle!” Naruko said, kneeling to retrieve his pet from the floor. “Whoops, sorry Sakamichi-- he must have crawled onto you when we were hugging before.”

“I might have known it was your fault,” Imaizumi said exasperatedly as Onoda shakily returned to his seat, and Naruko stroked the Pygmy Puff carefully, as if to reassure it after the trauma of being lost in Onoda's clothes. “Wait. Fallen onto from where?”

Naruko glanced up at him. “Oh? Quaffle rides around on my shoulder. And sometimes my head. And sometimes in my sleeves too, I guess, or wherever else he finds the space,” Naruko said, nestling the Pygmy Puff safely back into its place of honour in his hair. "He doesn't seem to like staying in one place for that long."

Imaizumi opened and closed his mouth uselessly several times before he choked out, “...There is actually something incredibly disturbing about that.”

“Well, you bought him for me. Don’t blame me for actually liking him enough to carry him around with me,” Naruko said snippily.

“Oh, and speaking of presents,” Imaizumi said. “I’ve been wondering--why the hairdryer?”

“Huh?”

Imaizumi rolled his eyes. “Yes, I know I understand the joke, but surely there was some other reason why you decided to get me a... hairdryer as a present.”

“I don’t know, I just thought it was kind of cool,” Naruko shrugged. “Funny and useful.”

“It’s a muggle device, Naruko,” Imaizumi explained slowly, as if to a small child. “According to Sakamichi it runs on something called “electricity,” and you also need a an item called a “power outlet” to make it work. And I don’t know about you, but I didn’t see either of those things in the magical castle that we live in.”

Naruko sighed, pushing his red bangs out of his face and fixing Imaizumi with a glower. “Come on, did you really think I’d get you anything as boring as a normal hairdryer? You didn’t even take it out of the box, did you?”

“...No, I didn’t.”

“Laaaame,” the redhead drawled. “If you had, you might’ve seen that it’s been... altered from the original design, I guess is one way of putting it? Long story short, it’s a magical device now so you don’t have to plug it in and it has all sorts of cool new settings on it, too! To be honest I was tempted to keep it for myself, but I decided to be nice, so if I were you I’d show a bit more gratitude, hotshot.”

“So you’re saying that I’m supposed to be grateful that you gave me an item which constitutes the misuse of a muggle artefact for Christmas?” Imaizumi deadpanned.

“...Well, if you put it that way, sure,” Naruko said breezily, before adding brightly, “but doesn’t that just make it cooler? Knowing it’s maybe-sort-of-kind-of-almost illegal to own it?”

“You think the knowledge that it’s contraband is supposed to fill me with joy?” Imaizumi asked in an increasingly skeptical tone. “My father works for the ministry, you know--”

“Then it’s a good thing I gave it to you and not to him, huh?”

“It doesn’t matter! Do you have any idea what my parents would do if they found a muggle device in my things?” Imaizumi snapped. “That’s not the kind of thing I can just explain away. Or what they would do if he knew I’d been actually associating with muggles, or...”

He trailed off, his eyes traveling between Onoda and Naruko, his expression shifting from one of annoyance to something strangely like desperation in the blink of an eye, like he had just realized something important. Or like a truth he had been avoiding had finally caught up with him.

And whatever it was, it had obviously unnerved him.

Imaizumi’s face closed down, becoming blank and unreadable. “Well, I guess there’s no stopping it now,” he said, brushing it off after a beat. “I just have to make sure they don’t see it, I guess.”

Onoda, strangely, got the sense that Imaizumi wasn’t just talking about the hairdryer anymore, and he felt the beginnings of a new fear creeping upon the edges of his mind at what else he might possibly be referring to.

The conversation was steered firmly away from that topic at the first possible chance-- Onoda made sure of that-- but Imaizumi was a little bit quieter afterward than he had been before, and maybe Naruko didn’t seem to poke at him quite as much as he usually would, either. Despite the initial tension, however, once the train began moving they settled comfortably back into each others’ company like it was the most natural thing in the world.

And, despite the fact that he was once again leaving London and his mother far behind him, part of Onoda felt like he had come home at last.

***

Onoda’s first class of the new term ended up being Astronomy, which was held at midnight following the day of his return to Hogwarts.

Although there was some grumbling from some of the other Hufflepuffs and Slytherins who shared this fate, Onoda was in fairly good spirits about the whole thing. He wasn’t much better at Astronomy than he was any of his other classes but he liked it, and he had missed the hushed atmosphere of the Astronomy Tower at night, with the lights dimmed so the stars were clearly visible through the wide windows.

But there was something different that night, too.

“Pardon me, but is this seat taken?”

Onoda whipped around, coming face to face with a sheepish-looking Manami, who was smiling and looking every bit as dreamy-eyed and ethereal as ever, but perhaps even stranger in a context that was so familiar to Onoda and so displaced from everything he associated him with.

To the best of Onoda’s knowledge, he had never actually encountered Manami outside the Quidditch Pitch. And Manami had told Onoda that he hated classes because they made him feel trapped. He couldn’t understand what might have led Manami to change his mind.

Had something changed that affected his decision? Onoda wondered. Was there a particular reason for him to want to be in class now in particular?

Remembering that Manami had asked him a question, Onoda shook the stars from his eyes and hastily pulled his belongings over onto his side of the table as he did so. “Um, no?” he said. “You’re welcome to sit here if you want.”

“Thank-you!” Manami said brightly, settling into his seat like a feather drifting to earth. Onoda was suddenly reminded of the eagle feather quill he had purchased, which was still sitting in its box at the bottom of his trunk in the Hufflepuff dormitories. Maybe soon he would have the opportunity to give it to Manami-- or rather, the courage to give it to him without feeling like a complete fool.

He felt his cheeks heat up, and he quickly looked away, worried that Manami might notice, but the other boy seemed halfway lost in his own world, as was apparently the norm with him.

“I didn’t think I’d ever see you in class,” Onoda whispered, busying himself by pulling out his star chart and smoothing it flat onto the table. It was comforting to settle back into the familiar rhythm despite the glaring discrepancy that Manami’s presence at his side represented. “Didn’t you say you found school boring?”

Manami’s turned his attention on Onoda and his eyes danced, as if he was reveling in a private joke. “Well, I guess so, but...” his smile widened, and Onoda caught the flash of teeth. “Miyahara--” Manami said, gesturing toward a bespectacled girl sitting several tables to their left who was already hunched over her chart and scribbling away, “said that she wouldn’t take any more notes for me unless I showed up in class more often in the new year. And I guess I kind of forgot to get her a Christmas present as well, so I decided to do this instead so she wouldn’t get mad at me,” he explained, rubbing the back of his neck in a display of contrition that Onoda was not entirely sure was genuine.

Onoda also wondered why Manami was sitting with him instead of with his friend, if his coming to class in the first place was as a favour to her, but he kept this thought to himself. He didn’t want Manami to leave, after all.

“Anyways,” Manami continued thoughtfully, watching Onoda out of the corner of his eye as he leaned on his textbooks, making no move to pull out their assignment for the day, “I feel like things are going to get a bit more interesting from here on in, don’t you?”

Onoda had no idea how to reply to that, but thankfully, Manami didn’t seem to expect an answer.

On the contrary, Manami proceeded to rest his head in his folded arms and close his eyes, and by the time the professor was starting their lesson for the night he was already fast asleep.

Chapter Text

The summer following Onoda’s first year at Hogwarts was the longest summer of his life.

Initially, summer holidays had been the furthest thing from his mind, since he was still weighed down with stress left over from final exams (and the nagging suspicion that the one potion on the table that had been corrosive enough to melt the phial containing it had been his), but after his exam results had come in and the other students were beginning to make plans for meeting up over the break, the reality hit Onoda like a Bludger to the back of his head.

Their first year was over.

Onoda had always looked forward to summer vacation in the past, back when he was still attending muggle school and desperately afraid of doing something that would mark him out as more different than he already was to his classmates. Now, however, instead of bringing with them a sense of relief, the impending holidays were stressing Onoda out nearly as much as his final exams had. Summer vacation used to be an appealing time for Onoda because it meant that he didn’t have to force himself to appear normal in front of a large classroom of other students who would, understandably, be suspicious if the equation on the chalkboard that Onoda was supposed to be answering erased itself before the teacher had even had a chance to finish writing it out. Instead, Onoda was free to spend two whole months either in his room or at the comic store, delving into stories about people who had grand destinies and good friends, who were different in good ways and could use their abilities to help people rather than make people afraid of them.

It was all different now that he was a student at Hogwarts, though. For the first time in his life, he wasn’t that different from everyone else. All of his classmates had had similar experiences to him as they were growing up and were there to learn magic just the same as he was, so he didn’t need to worry that he’d chase them away by doing anything unnatural.

And if that wasn’t enough, there was a wealth of other reasons why Onoda loved Hogwarts. He liked being able to eat his meals in the Great Hall with Imaizumi and Naruko while they talked about their day and he shared his comics with Imaizumi (who was rapidly becoming addicted to them no matter how much he played up his indifference). He liked it when he made an offhand comment to Naruko that might not seem all that special to him, but would make Naruko’s eyes light up with fondness, like Onoda had just said something particularly endearing. He liked Miki’s sort-of-pushy brand of friendliness, and Aya’s quiet sarcasm and even quieter caring side, even if she did seem embarrassed by it. He also really really liked the time he spent with Manami, although he would never admit that aloud to anyone (and truthfully, to a degree where he was almost embarrassed to admit it to himself, even). Even though they hadn’t actually ended up flying together after that one unforgettable time (due first to weather and later to exam preparation), Manami had surprised Onoda by never failing to show up to a class they had together.

(Although he was often late, entering the classroom with frazzled hair and a sheepish smile as the professor gave him a stern-- but largely unsurprised-- look, and directed him to take a seat. He almost always chose the seat next to Onoda, however, which never failed to make Onoda’s heart beat wildly in his chest.)

So despite the fact that he was still bad at most of his classes (he had barely passed any of his courses according to his results), Onoda’s experiences at Hogwarts had been immeasurably more pleasant than at any of the muggle schools he had attended. Onoda had friends at Hogwarts, and that made a huge amount of difference.

And naturally, being reminded that he would have to leave behind these things that had become so familiar and comfortable for a period of two whole months was like torture.

It was difficult readjusting to spending the maority of his time alone. After returning home, Onoda often found himself turning to say something to Naruko, only to belatedly remember that Naruko was miles away, at home with his own family. On more than one occasion, too, he had picked up a new comic book and found himself excitedly thinking about what Imaizumi would think of it before remembering that it would be weeks before he’d be able to give it to him.

One advantage, Onoda realized, to not having friends was that you never had to miss them when you were separated. This was a fact that he was finding himself rapidly becoming well-acquainted with.

Naruko, at least, was just a phone call away most of the time. His family had a landline and he had given Onoda the number before they had parted, so even though they couldn’t see each other it was still easy to catch up when they both had a free moment. He had even been given the honour of speaking to Naruko’s two younger brothers on several occasions, who apparently knew him as their ‘brother’s friend who had access to a vast amount of candy’ and were (unsurprisingly, based on that description) eager to meet him in person.

Imaizumi was a little bit more difficult, since the only way he had of communicating over distances was either something called the Floo Network (which was apparently a no-go because Onoda didn’t have a fireplace), or by owl, but sending letters alone was a slow method of communication. Onoda also had a nagging suspicion that Imaizumi was deliberately sending as few letters as possible to avoid drawing suspicion from his parents and potentially raising questions about who he was sending so much mail to, because the letters Onoda received were small in number but always extremely long, lengths of parchment filled margin-to-margin with cramped handwriting. He mostly talked about lighthearted things, but Onoda couldn’t help but worry about him and hoped that he wasn’t as miserable as he had seemed to be at the prospect of going home for Christmas.

Onoda also wondered whether Imaizumi was speaking to Naruko as well, but he never found the courage to ask.

August arrived at an agonizingly slow pace, until finally there were only a few short weeks left until they’d be once again boarding the train for their next year at Hogwarts. It had taken some discussion (and a lot of planning on Onoda’s part, involving many phone calls and letters), but he had finally managed to coordinate a meeting in Diagon Alley between himself and his three friends. It had been difficult to choose a day they were all available on, since Imaizumi had needed to be chauffeured in from his family home in Kent (as apparently his parents decided that Portkeys were ‘common’ and Side-Along Apparation was ‘undigified’), and Naruko had to make sure it was a day his parents wouldn’t be too busy to look after his younger brothers. For awhile Onoda had wondered if his friends’ parents would even let them come, but they all needed school supplies and books for the upcoming term, which made for a convenient excuse.

And Onoda also suspected that Imaizumi would mysteriously ‘forget’ to mention to his parents that he wasn’t planning on doing his shopping alone, so chances were good that they wouldn’t have a problem with it.

Luckily for Onoda, his mother didn’t have any shifts at the restaurant the day he wanted to meet up with his friends, so she had been able to offer him a ride to the Leaky Cauldron in her new car (which was secondhand, but still ran well and made getting to and from work much easier for her). He had arrived early and, after waving goodbye to his mother as she drove off, had made his way through the pub and out the hidden back entrance before setting down on the curb to wait for his friends to arrive.

And somehow this had all led up to the present, with Imaizumi and Naruko appearing through the archway in close succession, their expressions visibly brightening when they spotted Onoda hurrying to stand so that he could come and greet them.

Onoda had spent an embarrassing amount of time thinking about what it would be like to see his friends again, and yet now that the moment was here, it was not quite what he had expected.

“Sakamichiiii!” Naruko exclaimed, bounding up to him. “I can’t believe how much I--”

Naruko abruptly halted in front of him with his arms still outstretched, although his pleased expression was rapidly shifting to one of horrified disbelief the longer he stared at Onoda. It was an expression of utter betrayal, as if Onoda had just confessed to having thrown Quaffle the Pygmy Puff out a window on the Hogwarts Express. Or if he had taken a broomstick and snapped it over his knee like kindling.

“I... I don’t know what to say about this, Sakamichi,” Naruko said eventually, staring at Onoda with eyes wide and full of hurt. “How could you?”

Onoda would surely have replied to such a beseeching look, except that Imaizumi chose that exact moment to intervene, rolling his eyes dramatically and smacking the back of Naruko’s head in a swift reprimand that made the redhead yelp.

“Get over it,” Imaizumi said unsympathetically over the sound of Naruko’s complaints. “So Sakamichi is a grand total of... what, one, maybe two centimeters taller than you now? I fail to see why this is a big deal.”

“But he’s Sakamichi,” Naruko complained, rubbing the back of his head and casting a resentful look in Imaizumi’s direction before turning back to Onoda, his eyes once again taking on a pleading edge. “I don’t get it, Sakamichi. Didn’t we make a promise that neither of us would get taller than the other?”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to! I promise I’m really... wait,” Onoda said, blinking. “I... actually don’t remember you ever saying anything about that before now. Or me agreeing to it.”

Naruko pouted. “Okay, so maybe it was more of an unspoken promise. But still! I thought it was an understanding between friends that our only source of competition should be Quidditch, and that we should try not to... you know, outshine the other in anything else.”

“Oh,” Onoda said. “I’m sorry then, Shoukichi.” He was still fairly new to this friendship thing, so it didn’t surprise him too much that he had apparently missed something so huge. “But what about Shunsuke?” he asked suddenly, realizing that Naruko’s explanation couldn’t possibly include him as well. “He’s taller than both of us--”

“Please leave me out of this,” Imaizumi begged.

“Yeah, but that’s the hotshot, normal rules don’t apply,” Naruko said dismissively. “Anyways, he’s not just tall, he’s freakishly tall, so that doesn’t actually make him cooler than either of us. Probably lowers his coolness stats, to be honest.”

“Oh my god--”

Onoda frowned. “But if we’re talking about... coolness then isn’t Shunsuke still objectively cooler even if we’re not counting his height? I mean, he’s richer and probably better looking than us... and his grades are higher--”

Naruko recoiled, hands clapped over his ears as if Onoda’s words physically pained him. “Nonononono I am not having a conversation with you about how cool the hotshot is-- holy shit, I can’t believe this is happening. This feels so wrong--”

“You’re telling me,” Imaizumi muttered, his face blushing crimson. “Can we please just change the subject now? Please?”

“Ah, alright,” Onoda said, letting the topic drop.

Instead, in the moments of silence that followed, Onoda took the opportunity to actually look at his friends for the first time since they’d met up again. He was relieved to see that they were still mostly the same as he remembered, which made a certain amount of sense-- they’d only been apart for two months after all, not two years.

He did notice a few small differences if he looked close enough, however. Imaizumi was noticeably taller and it looked like he might have gotten a haircut, while Naruko had a darker tan than Onoda remembered him having and a matching splash of summer freckles across his nose. It was nothing jarringly different, but just enough to remind Onoda that after spending nearly every available waking moment with them at Hogwarts, there was now a period of two months where, other than what they chose to tell him through letters or over the phone, their lives were inaccessible mysteries to him.

It felt a little strange, but mostly Onoda was just relieved that now they were together again.

“You know...” Onoda said tentatively, breaking the silence and hoping his voice didn’t sound as small as he felt. “I’m happy to hear you two arguing again-- not that, you know, I think you should be fighting with each other, but... well, I guess I just really missed you.”

A flicker of a smile crossed Imaizumi’s face, but it was gone just as quickly as it appeared. “I feel the same way. Although it was quieter without the redheaded menace around, so I could probably take that into consideration too.”

“Screw you, asshole,” Naruko snapped. To Onoda, though, he beamed and gave a fond--if slightly overenthusiastic-- hair-ruffle. “I missed you too, Sakamichi! And don’t worry too much about the height difference thing, you’re my very best friend so I’ll forgive you this once! I’ll be catching up soon anyways whether you like it or not, kakaka!”

And just like that, it was like they’d never even been apart.

“So,” Imaizumi said, once Onoda had managed to extract himself from Naruko’s clutches. He was a little bit out of practice with that, or maybe Naruko had just gotten stronger. “Sakamichi, since meeting up today was your idea, I assume you’ve made plans?”

“Uh... no, not really,” Onoda said awkwardly. “Or there was one thing, sort of? I was just thinking about things we could do today... you know, other than buying all of our new books and stuff... and I was thinking I might maybe want to get a broom? Only I don’t really know much about them so I thought it would be good if you two were there when I bought it. You don’t have to if it’ll be a pain, obviously, but do you guys think you could help me choose a good one that’s not too expensive?”

Apparently Onoda nothing to worry about, because Imaizumi and Naruko both responded to his tentative inquiry by fixing him with nearly matching expressions of enthusiasm.

“Sure, anything you want, Sakamichi,” Naruko said brightly, trotting along beside Onoda as they began making their way leisurely in the direction of the sporting equipment stores. “I was just in Quality Quidditch Supplies earlier this summer picking up my own broom, so I know they have a lot of good models in right now. Really fast ones, too!”

“Oh, you just got your first broom too?” Onoda asked, surprised. He had always assumed that Naruko already had one, since he spoke about practicing at home so much.

Naruko flushed. “My first good one,” he admitted, glancing suspiciously at Imaizumi, as if to confirm that he wasn’t being laughed at. Imaizumi, of course, was deadpan as always, which made it difficult to tell if Naruko’s worries were unfounded or not. “I got a Shooting Star second-hand when I was a kid-- you know, to practice turning and kickoffs and stuff, but when I got older I started using my mom’s Cleansweep instead, since it’s a better broom and actually moves faster than a slow crawl. But mom’s been saying for years now that if I did okay in my classes the first year of Hogwarts she’d save up to buy me an actual fast broom, so I’d at least have one for Quidditch.”

“What kind did you get?” Imaizumi asked, in what sounded like a deliberately casual voice.

“A Thunderbolt VI,” Naruko said proudly.

Imaizumi actually halted in his tracks.

“Do you actually have a deathwish?” Imaizumi asked, staring at Naruko in utter disbelief. “Out of every type of broom on the market, what would possess you to go with that one?”

Naruko shrugged. “Well, it’s not like we could afford something like a Firebolt Supreme or one of the import brands,” he said. “The Thunderbolt is cheaper.”

“Then why wouldn’t you have gotten a Cleansweep?” Imaizumi asked. “Or a Nimbus? Or even a Comet, for god’s sake. They’re all cheaper, and have the added bonus of not actually killing you when you try to fly them.”

“The Thunderbolt is way faster than any of those,” Naruko said, as if that was all that mattered. “And here we are,” he said, as they came to a halt outside Quality Quidditch Supplies.

Onoda held the door open for his friends as the three of them made their way inside the busy shop. As he passed by, Onoda noticed that Imaizumi’s face was still twisted with annoyance. It looked as though he still wasn’t satisfied with the reasoning behind Naruko’s choice in broomstick.

“It’s just for a school team,” Imaizumi muttered to Naruko as they began to look over the brooms on display, speaking more quietly now that they were indoors but still apparently not willing to let the topic go. “It’s not the Quidditch World Cup-- which, by the way, you might remember the Thunderbolt line has a history of performing abysmally in. This is just you being needlessly competitive again, isn’t it?”

“Nice. Spoken like someone who doesn’t intend to win at all,” Naruko mocked.

“How fast do you think you really have to be, Naruko?” Imaizumi demanded, exasperation creeping into his voice.

Naruko grinned toothily at him. “What do you take me for, hotshot? I have to be the fastest, of course.”

Imaizumi was looking distinctly like he wanted to hit something-- probably something red haired and one or two centimeters shorter than Onoda, Onoda suspected. He might have too, if they hadn’t been in the middle of a broomstick shop, which Onoda suspected was practically akin to sacred ground for someone like Imaizumi.

“Anyway,” Naruko continued, smirking. “You still haven’t told us what kind of broom you have. So spill-- is the great and mighty Shunsuke Imaizumi really going to show up for a Quidditch match against me on a Comet 360?”

Imaizumi opened his mouth and closed it again. “... a Starsweeper,” he muttered.

“W-what was that?” Naruko asked, eyes going wide.

“I said, I decided that I’ll bring my Starsweeper,” Imaizumi snapped. “And don’t even try telling me you don’t know what that is.”

Naruko whistled lowly. “Holy shit, hotshot, and you say I’m needlessly competitive,” he snickered. “Not only is it a world-class broom, but it’s even one of those super-expensive imported ones. An American make, huh... and let me guess, you have a bunch more brooms of that level to choose from at home as well?”

Imaizumi frowned. “Yes,” he said.

“Why am I not surprised,” Naruko said, throwing up his hands. “Must be nice to be rich,” he sighed wistfully.

“It’s really not all it’s cracked up to be, I promise,” Imaizumi said darkly.

Naruko snorted, turning away to examine a vintage Sliver Arrow in a glass case behind him in a show of nonchalance. “I’ll believe that when I see it.”

“Well, until then, why don’t you just take my word for it?” Imaizumi snapped. “I’m getting sick of this conversation. We’re here to get a broom for Sakamichi-- can’t we do that without delving into my personal life?”

“Jeez, fine. No need to get cranky,” Naruko said, glancing back towards Imaizumi with a frown.

“Any idea what you’re looking for, Sakamichi?” Imaizumi asked Onoda, who jumped, startled by his sudden inclusion into the conversation.

“Uh... not really?” Onoda said, embarrassed. “Just something... good, I guess.”

“Have you given any thought to your preferred maker? Or handle length? Or which position you’re intending to use it for in a Quidditch match?” Imaizumi asked.

Onoda felt the colour rise to his face. “... No?”

Imaizumi sighed, and Onoda could tell without even looking that Imaizumi was rolling his eyes. “I’ll go grab a catalogue, then. We might be here for awhile.”

“I’m sorry,” Onoda offered, but Imaizumi just shook his head.

“No, it’s okay,” he said. “It’s your first broom, it’s better if we take the time to make sure it’s just right for you than rush into something.”

While Imaizumi was hunting down a guidebook, Onoda and Naruko began looking through the broomstick models on display. There wasn’t a lot of information available about each one without something to use for reference, but Naruko pointed out some of the best-known British brands that were used for Quidditch, such as the Nimbus, Cleansweep, Comet, and Firebolt series. The display models were all pristine, with perfectly straight twigs and well-polished wood handles and looked almost nothing like the broomsticks at school. Onoda tried to picture himself flying on one and failed, despite the fact that he intended to be leaving the store with one of them that day.

Maybe it was because he was already insecure that he soon became aware of one of the other customers in the store, a man who had been looking at the display case of antique broomsticks now seemed to be spending a greater amount of time watching them. He wasn’t someone Onoda recognized from anywhere in particular-- he was an older man, his hair grown out in a longer style that seemed to be fashionable with some wizards, and his style of dressing appeared to be understated yet the clothing itself was likely fairly high-quality. Honestly, he could have been almost anyone.

Onoda couldn’t understand why this person seemed to be taking such an interest in himself and Naruko, but it made him feel uneasy, and he stuck a little closer to Naruko as a result.

“You all right, Sakamichi?” Naruko asked, tearing his eyes away from the broomsticks when Onoda bumped up against him.

“U-uh, yeah,” Onoda said, trying and failing to dispel Naruko’s concern with a small smile. This failure was probably because whatever Onoda had produced wasn’t something that could be mistaken as a smile under any circumstances.

Instantly on alert, Naruko’s gaze homed in on the man Onoda had noticed in mere seconds, and almost immediately his eyes narrowed dangerously.

“Hey you, what do you think you’re looking at?” Naruko asked loudly and--in Onoda’s opinion-- quite rudely.

“H-hey,” Onoda said. “It’s okay, you don’t have to--”

“Nothing, really,” the man said before Onoda could finish, sounding bored and entirely unapologetic. “It just keeps me from having to wonder where the smell is coming from if I take note of Naruko spawn when they happen to crawl out into the open,” his gaze fixed coldly on Onoda, “especially when they bring one of their mudblood pets with them.”

Onoda was too confused to respond (although it was pretty clear to him that they had just been insulted in some way), but Naruko beat him to the punch before he could even consider how to respond to that

Naruko rounded on the man, bristling with fury. “Don’t you dare call Sakamichi that, you son of a bitch! I’ll tear your fucking throat out!”

Onoda had never, ever seen Naruko that angry before. Not during any of his arguments with Imaizumi, no matter how vicious they might have been, had Onoda actually seen Naruko’s face twisted in fury the way it was now.

“Charming,” the man said drily, looking unimpressed with Naruko’s threats. “Although I suppose it’s to be expected that a mutt would have an ugly bark. It seems indulging in temper tantrums in place of reasonable discourse is also something of a family trait.”

“I swear, I’ll--”

“You’ll what? Use underaged magic to attack a pureblooded wizard in the middle of a shop? Please,” the man said. “I’m leaving, at any rate-- I had no idea that standards here were so low. Just be sure to keep an eye on that mudblood of yours, you know they run wild if they’re not properly leashed.”

Naruko seemed to be bracing himself for a fight anyways, but the man simply brushed by him, as if he had ceased to be worth his attention. Although the man had said he was leaving, Onoda didn’t let out the breath he was holding until he heard the door open and shut again, the tiny bell above the frame jingling mockingly in its wake.

“Uh, Shoukichi...?” Onoda began, but almost immediately stopped himself. Naruko looked awful, his eyes wide with helpless anger and his entire body stiff and hunched over. Unsure of what to do, Onoda hovered anxiously, squeezing his hands into fists repeatedly as he wondered if this was the correct moment to offer a friendly hug or a comforting hand on the shoulder. That’s what Naruko would undoubtedly have done if it was Onoda who was upset, but he wasn’t sure if Naruko would appreciate the gesture if it was aimed at him.

Naruko finally noticed Onoda’s awkward presence and the effect was immediate. He forcibly straightened, letting out a deep, shuddering breath, and when he turned back to Onoda there was a smile on his face, but there was still something off about it.

“Sorry you had to hear all that, Sakamichi,” he said, his voice determinedly upbeat. “Man, I really hate assholes like that, don’t you?”

Even someone as poorly-versed in social situations as Onoda could recognize this as an obvious attempt to make light of a situation that had not been light by any means. A fully-grown stranger essentially bullying a child in a public place was not normal, and although Onoda hadn’t understood much of what had just happened, he knew that much was true. And worse still, Naruko’s affected nonchalance in the face of that spoke of it not being an isolated incident-- it had happened before, he was sure of it.

That thought alone was enough to make him feel ill.

“Shoukichi--” Onoda began, but Naruko quickly cut him off with a strained smile.

“Don’t worry about it, Sakamichi,” Naruko said. “It wasn’t your fault, it was mine-- hell, if I hadn’t been here, he wouldn’t have looked twice at you, so... sorry, I guess.” He forced a laugh. “Just forget it, it was nothing.”

Onoda didn’t want to leave it at that, but since Naruko seemed to not be interested in giving additional explanations, he held his tongue.

“Oh,” Naruko said. “I’d appreciate it if you didn’t mention this to anyone else-- Imaizumi especially. Can you do that?”

Despite not wanting to, Onoda nodded reluctantly. “...Okay. Whatever you say.”

Naruko looked so relieved that Onoda momentarily felt a little less guilty about the fact that he had just agreed to deliberately conceal the truth about something from one of his best friends.

Imaizumi returned soon after that, and frowned when he noticed the tense atmosphere. “What happened? I thought I heard raised voices coming from this direction.”

“Nothing happened,” Naruko said, laughing in an incredibly unconvincing manner. “Nope, nothing at all. We’re both good here, right Sakamichi?”

Imaizumi looked to Onoda for a better explanation, obviously not trusting Naruko’s hasty answer, but Onoda could only shrug helplessly, completely at a loss as to what else to do.

“Anyway, did you get the catalogue like you said you would?” Naruko asked.

Imaizumi narrowed his eyes suspiciously, but eventually he nodded. “Yes.”

“Cool. So now we can get looking at broomsticks instead of standing around here wasting time,” Naruko said, snatching the book from Imaizumi’s hands and flipping it open. “So, Sakamichi, you don’t know what position you want to play yet, do you?”

“No, not really?”

“And you’re on a budget?” he continued.

“Y-yeah,” Onoda replied.

“No.”

Naruko and Onoda both looked at Imaizumi, whose pale complexion visibly darkened at the sudden attention. “I-if there’s something you want that you don’t have enough for, I could give you the extra money, you know,” he stuttered.

Onoda’s jaw dropped. “Y-you really don’t have to do that, Shunsuke! You’ve already spent way too much money on me, and I do have quite a bit saved up already!”

“Yes, well... I just thought I’d mention it as an option,” Imaizumi said, looking entirely embarrassed. “Broomsticks are expensive.”

“Don’t remember you offering that same option to me,” Naruko muttered, apparently unable to resist a small jab despite being for all intents and purposes occupied with flipping through the Nimbus section of the catalogue.

“Because it’s you,” Imaizumi said without missing a beat. “And you never asked, so you have no place to complain anyways,” he added snippily.

Naruko made a face but didn’t take the opportunity to continue the argument, which must have set off warning bells in Imaizumi’s head because he immediately shot another inquiring look at Onoda. As before, though, Onoda had no confidence he’d be able to answer even if Naruko hadn’t asked him not to talk about it, so he did nothing.

After a considerable amount of reading, deliberation, and Imaizumi and Naruko bickering and fighting over the catalogue, Onoda had finally managed to choose a broom that might fit him. He eventually decided to go with the Cleansweep Thirty, which was the newest model of what Imaizumi and insisted was a reliable and very well-respected line of brooms that had apparently been on the market for years. Naruko had been less thrilled with the option when it had first been brought up (for reasons having to do with “a maximum speed of 0-120 in 10 seconds? Please, that’s baby stuff,” and “the whole world of different trees to choose from and they go with poplar?”), but he had grudgingly conceded that Imaizumi was right and that Cleansweeps were good brooms, even if they weren’t as fast or as flashy as he’d like.

Onoda liked the broom he had chosen, though. The catalogue had said it was a good one for less-experienced flyers because it wasn’t particularly specialized in one way or another and although it was not quite as speedy as a Nimbus or a Firebolt would be, it was still reasonably fast and came highly recommended for Quidditch players. It wasn’t a particularly showy broom, but Onoda didn’t think he needed anything particularly fancy anyways. He even liked the fact that it was poplar (despite the fact that this apparently was considered by Naruko to be a mark against it) because it meant that his wand and his broom matched. This was admittedly a trivial detail but it struck Onoda as being oddly appropriate, and helped him feel more confident that he had chosen the best possible broom for himself.

Once they were done in Quality Quidditch Supplies, they made their rounds of most of the more prominent stores in Diagon Alley, picking up their new books and supplies for the next year. They also made brief stops at the candy shop because Naruko had apparently promised he’d bring back candy for his brothers and at Eeylops Owl Emporium so that Imaizumi could pick up more Owl Nuts for Psyche. Onoda had to carry his broom through every shop and after knocking over his second display of Sugar Quills was wondering if he should have waited until they had finished the rest of their shopping before buying it, but there wasn’t much he could have done about it now. They were almost done anyways, so he didn’t have to worry about it for much longer.

(Onoda also surreptitiously kept his eye out for the man they had seen in the Quidditch supply store as they shopped, but thankfully he hadn’t spotted him. Onoda didn’t know what might have happened if they’d had a repeat confrontation, and he didn’t want to think about it.)

When they parted ways at the end of the day, Onoda thought that Naruko’s goodbye hug was just a bit tighter than usual, but he didn’t begrudge him that in the slightest. He even did his best to hug back, although he knew he was not particularly good at displays of affection. He thought that maybe Naruko appreciated the effort, though, because he’d given Onoda a real-looking smile before climbing into his dad’s car.

“See you in a couple of weeks, Sakamichi! Whoever gets to King’s Cross first has to save a compartment for the rest!”

Onoda had agreed and Imaizumi had rolled his eyes, and before long Imaizumi’s driver, a surprisingly friendly wizard who introduced himself to Onoda as Takahashi, had arrived in a large, old-fashioned car to bring Imaizumi back home. Imaizumi appeared to be on good terms with the driver and didn’t seem concerned at what he might think of his having a friend like Onoda, and Onoda was happy that at the very least there did seem to be someone who cared about Imaizumi even if his parents were absent.

Once Imaizumi had also said his goodbyes and had driven off, only Onoda remained, sitting on the curb outside the Leaky Cauldron, waiting for his mother to arrive. He had several bags of highly suspicious books and ingredients scattered around him, and a broomstick lying across his knees.

The next time he saw his friends, it would be time for their second year at Hogwarts to begin.

***

Onoda’s broomstick spent the remaining two and a half weeks of summer holidays unused and still in its brown paper wrappings from the store.

The broom occupied a place of honour, set carefully on top of his trunk where it was guaranteed to be the first thing Onoda saw whenever he entered his room. Every time his gaze fell on it his heart would stutter a bit, partially out of excitement over the prospect of having a brand new broom all to himself, but partly out of fear as well.

And it wasn’t just his fear of heights causing him to feel that way, although it would be untrue to say this didn’t have an effect. It was what the broomstick represented to him, however, that gave him the most anxiety.

This was the year that Onoda would try out for the Quidditch team, and he was aware that he had a lot to lose if he didn’t make it. Although he knew that Imaizumi and Naruko would be his friends even if he didn’t make the cut, they would still understandably be disappointed if they couldn’t play Quidditch with him and Onoda wasn’t sure he’d forgive himself for ruining something they were obviously looking forward to. Even Onoda was looking forward to it somewhat-- or at least, he was hopeful that whatever it was that had made flying with Manami so enjoyable would be something he could find in a Quidditch match as well.

And then there was Manami, of course, who was also an extremely large factor in his desire to join the Quidditch team.

Which was completely ridiculous, because Onoda didn’t even know if Manami was interested in Quidditch the same way as he was interested in flying. Despite this, Onoda found himself feeling vaguely, embarrassingly hopeful that Manami might be impressed with him if he did well at Quidditch. One thing Onoda had learned since he had begun meeting with Manami during classes was that, if there weren’t brooms involved, it was sometimes incredibly difficult to catch and hold his attention. He seemed to filter out information that was of no interest to him and he spent a significant amount of class time asleep, to the point where Onoda sometimes wondered if Manami should have even bothered coming in the first place.

When something actually interested Manami though, he fixated on it with almost dizzying intensity.

And somewhere along the line, against all odds, something about Onoda had managed to catch that interest for reasons he could only guess at. Onoda didn’t know exactly what it meant or what he was doing, but he knew with every fiber of his being that he wanted to be one of the things that fascinated Manami.

He found it vaguely funny that after twelve years of trying his absolute best to not to stand out as “weird” or “different,” Onoda didn’t know if he could stand to be filtered out by this one person. For once, he wanted to be someone worth being noticed.

That was a lot to be riding on one broomstick.

The weeks passed by quickly after the day in Diagon Alley, and soon it was the evening before Onoda would be leaving for another year at Hogwarts. He put on a DVD-- not because he wanted to watch it particularly, and in all honesty his mind was too preoccupied with other things to pay much attention-- but there were no DVD players or televisions at Hogwarts so he figured he should make the most of it while he still had one.

It was while he was lying on his back, wondering vaguely whether the music in this movie would be to Imaizumi’s tastes that he heard a knock at the door.

“Come in,” he said, and the door opened to reveal his mother, who was carrying a laundry basket full of nestly-folded clothes.

“Have you finished packing yet, Sakamichi?” she asked, setting the basket down next to him on his bed. “I have your school... robes, was it? Well, anyways, I washed and pressed your uniform so it should be all ready for tomorrow. I also have some of your casual clothes here if there’s anything else you want to bring.”

“Thanks, mom,” Onoda said, pulling himself into a sitting position. “And no, I’m not quite done," he added, belatedly remembering that he'd been asked a question. "I’m just taking a break.”

“Well, don’t wait for too long, you’ll want to be getting to sleep early tonight,” his mother said briskly, and was promptly distracted by something else. “Oh, is that what I think it is?

Onoda directed his attention toward whatever had caught his mother’s notice, and found her examining his broom with interest.

“Oh yeah,” he said. “That’s the broom I bought using your Christmas money. Do you want to see it?”

“Oh no, it’s alright,” she said, waving him off with a smile. She leaned down to read the label, explaining herself, “I don’t want to make you unwrap it now and immediately have you wrap it back up again--I’m sure I’ll get a chance to see it the next time you’re back here, anyways. I do hope you picked a good one, though.”

Onoda nodded. “Yes. It’s a Cleansweep Thirty, so... it’s not the best broom, but it’s supposed to be a really good one. And it’s pretty fast, too. Not really as fast as Shunsuke or Shoukichi’s, but it’ll be good enough for Quidditch, I think.”

Onoda’s mom made a puzzled face briefly, before her expression cleared. “Ah, Quidditch! That’s right, you were telling me about it awhile ago. It’s kind of like wizard football, isn’t it?”

“Um... kind of?” Onoda offered.

“Right, I remember now! You said you wanted to get on the Quidditch team at school,” she said, looking at him with obvious pride. “My son the athlete-- I never would have guessed. That might be even more of a surprise than finding out you were secretly a wizard!”

Onoda looked away, embarrassed. “I’m not on the team yet, mom,” he protested. “I’ll still have to try out.”

“Will you be on a team with those friends of yours?” she asked, taking a seat next to him on the bed.

“Uh... no, actually,” Onoda said, a little awkwardly in the face of her expectant gaze. “We’ll all be on different teams. If I get on my team I’ll be playing for Hufflepuff, Shoukichi will be playing for Gryffindor and Shunsuke will be playing for Ravenclaw. So I’d have to play against them, I guess.”

Onoda’s mom nodded, and Onoda thought she looked sympathetic. “That might be hard, competing with your friends. Usually you’d want your friends to cheer for you, wouldn’t you?”

“Maybe,” Onoda shrugged. “They do support me when they can, and... I don’t know, maybe it’ll be fun to play against them too? My friend Miki is also in Hufflepuff and there’s no way she’s not going to be on the team, and then Sangaku might also--”

He broke off, but it was already too late.

“Sangaku?” his mother asked curiously. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard that name before. Is this ‘Sangaku’ another one of your friends?”

“Um... kind of?” Onoda said, wondering where he could find words to explain a topic as unfathomable as Manami. “But...I’m not sure. Maybe?”

“I’m pretty sure you’ve never mentioned a Sangaku whenever you’ve told me about your school friends before now,” she said. “Are you hiding something? Do you think I’d disapprove, or--”

“No! No, it’s not like that!” Onoda protested, his face heating up. “Sangaku’s just a friend from school-- he likes flying and he’s really nice, but I don’t think I know him that well yet. And... um... as for why I never mention him, that because... he’s in a Hogwarts house that a lot of people don’t like very much, and I’m sort of worried that if my other friends knew about him they wouldn’t like him. And then... maybe they also wouldn’t like me for being friendly with him,” he added in a much quieter voice.

“That sounds complicated,” his mother said eventually. “What do you do about it?”

“I guess I try... to keep them separate?” Onoda said tentatively. “I spend more time with Shunsuke and Shoukichi, but I hang out with Sangaku when I can, too... when they won’t notice.”

“How long has this been going on?”

“Almost a year,” Onoda said. “I’ve known Sangaku for almost as long as I’ve known Shunsuke and Shoukichi.”

His mother pursed her lips thoughtfully. “Well, what I think is that if you like this Sangaku boy--and he’s really as nice as you say he is-- then there’s no reason why you should feel like you’re doing anything wrong by being friends with him, even if you have other friends, too,” she said matter-of-factly. “If your friends don’t get along with him, then there’s nothing you can do about it. Sometimes I think personalities just don’t click with each other, and that’s fine.”

Onoda nodded.

“But,” she continued, an uncharacteristically serious expression on her face, “I also think that if any of your friends would judge you for being friends with someone who makes you happy because of their personal feelings on the matter, then they are the ones who might not be being good friends to you. You’ve all known each other for a year now-- if something as trivial as this changes their opinion about you that drastically, then they probably weren’t good friends in the first place.”

“So...” Onoda asked, swallowing nervously. “What should I do, then? Do you think I should tell Shoukichi and Shunsuke about Sangaku?”

“Do whatever you think is best, Sakamichi,” she said, the lightness returning to her voice like it had never left. “You always tell me such good things about your friends, and Shunsuke seems like a darling from what I’ve seen of him, so I’m sure their reaction won’t be as bad as you expect. If you decide not to tell them, though, they might still find out eventually. So really, it might make things easier if you choose when and how to tell them before that happens.”

Onoda sighed. “Yeah... you’re probably right. I’ll... I’ll think about it.”

“Don’t think too much on it right now, remember what I said about getting a good sleep tonight,” his mother said, standing and making her way to the door now that the conversation was over. “And don’t worry--I’m sure everything will turn out fine.”

Onoda really hoped she was right, because in between making the Quidditch team, navigating his friendships with Imaizumi, Naruko, and Manami and figuring out just what had happened that day in Quality Quidditch Supplies, it seemed like his second year at Hogwarts was going to be significantly more complicated than the first.

Chapter Text

Onoda had expected to notice small differences in the people he had met the previous year at the start of his second year (and he had, with Imaizumi and Naruko), but he still found himself doing a double-take the first time he laid eyes on Manami after returning to Hogwarts.

The first class of the new term that Hufflepuff shared with Slytherin was Charms, and Onoda found himself awaiting the start of class with nervous anticipation. He had arrived early (which was possible only because he had finally memorized the way to most of his classrooms from the Hufflepuff dormitories sometime in the previous year, after which his life had become considerably easier) and chosen a seat near the back of the room, placing his bag on the seat next to him so that no one else would take it.

Onoda really hoped that Manami hadn’t decided that he had become bored with classes (or with him, a nasty little voice in his head whispered), or else Onoda would feel guilty about saving a seat for someone who wasn’t even coming when other people needed seats too.

As it turned out, he needn’t have worried. Manami entered the classroom sometime after the professor began the introduction-- late, as always-- smiling carelessly as he apologized to the professor and glanced around the classroom.

His eyes lit up when he spotted Onoda, and Onoda immediately felt like his face was on fire.

Manami looked the same as Onoda remembered him: ghost-pale skin that refused to tan or burn despite the amount of time he spent outside, same blue eyes, the same airy smile.

The strangest thing was, Onoda was not completely convinced that Manami had changed at all. Whereas he had noticed definite physical changes in both of his friends, Manami seemed almost exactly the same as Onoda remembered him, but there was still something about him that was a little bit... not.

Maybe it had something to do with the sort of aura of otherworldliness that Manami naturally seemed to exude. As an individual, Manami seemed to alternately repel and draw people in-- it was one of the first things Onoda had noticed about him when they had started meeting up during classes, when they were surrounded by other students. And it seemed like something about that force seemed like it might have been a little bit stronger, a little more pervasive than it had been before.

Perhaps Onoda was just not used to it, having spent a summer without any contact with Manami whatsoever.

Or maybe he was just making excuses to try to try to justify the fact that he was feeling Manami’s pull more strongly than ever.

“Hey, Sakamichi,” Manami whispered, sliding into the seat next to Onoda almost soundlessly, and without a single wasted movement. “Thanks for saving me a seat.”

Onoda desperately wanted to ask him about his summer, or maybe tell him about Onoda’s own plans to join the Quidditch team just on the offhand chance that Manami would look at him like he was impressed, but the professor had already begun his lecture and would probably not take kindly to Onoda attempting to hold a lengthy conversation during the lesson.

So Onoda had to be satisfied with nodding once and smiling at the Slytherin boy as brightly as he could, knowing he would have to wait until the end of class to really say anything to him.

He watched out of the corner of his eye as Manami pulled out his writing supplies (from past experience Onoda knew they were unlikely to see much use, but it was the thought that counted), finding it vaguely concerning that the sight of Manami going about mundane tasks like unrolling parchment had apparently somewhere along the line become more interesting to him than learning how to enchant teacups to sing.

It also didn’t escape Onoda’s notice that the quill Manami took out was the one Onoda had given him for Christmas the previous year, which sent a jolt of happiness through him and did nothing to help his concentration.

Needless to say, the point of the lesson was utterly lost on Onoda. He was far too distracted by his seatmate to pay attention to the instructions the professor gave them and, by the end of the class, had only succeeded in making his teacup scream in a constant, ear-splitting shriek that hadn't stopped until Manami had “accidentally” knocked it off the table with his elbow and smashed it, much to the relief of the rest of the class. Manami had just beamed at the professor in that innocent way of his while apologizing for his clumsiness, and the professor had miraculously given Onoda a new teacup without any questions asked.

Onoda had the feeling that this was something he would look back on and laugh about, but as he exited the classroom with a sunnily smiling Manami, he couldn’t find it in himself to be anything other than embarrassed.

“I can tell that our classes this year have gotten harder,” Manami said. “And they’re marking us harder, too... I mean, I thought that a screaming teacup was worth at least a six out of ten-- at least it actually made a sound. Mine didn't.”

(Manami’s teacup had, regrettably, remained an ordinary teacup until the end of the lesson.)

“Well, I think we were being marked on how nice the song sounded as well, so I guess it makes sense that it would have failed based on that,” Onoda said fairly. “Miyahara’s teacup sounded quite nice....”

Manami shrugged. “The tune was good... it was a bit wheezy, though.”

“Oh, really? I didn’t notice,” Onoda said.

“Just a bit,” Manami said.

Their conversation faltered, and Onoda realized that this was his chance to actually have a conversation with Manami.

“So... how was your summer?” Onoda asked, fingers nervously curling into the fabric of his robes. “Did you get a chance to do a lot of flying?”

Manami made a noncommittal noise. “It was okay, I guess. My dad still seems to think I spend too much time outside, but it’s not too difficult to avoid him when I put my mind to it. So yeah, I did manage to spend a fair amount of time flying.”

Onoda got the sense that there was still a fair amount Manami wasn't saying, but he knew that where Manami was concerned, prying would neither help nor be appreciated.

“Well... that’s good, at least,” Onoda said. “I don’t know about you, but I’m actually really happy to be back in school. I mean... I’m terrible in class, but I guess I sort of missed it.”

Manami smiled, and Onoda noticed his eyes crinkle a bit in the corners. “I’m happy to be back, too.”

“Really? I'm surprised, I thought you hated school.”

Manami shrugged lightly. “Well, it has its downsides, but there are good things about it, too. I mean, you can... oh-- whoops, I almost forgot!” Manami said suddenly. “Sorry to cut you off Sakamichi, but I actually promised someone I’d meet up with him for flying practice after class.”

...Oh.

“Uh... no, it’s fine,” Onoda said, attempting to ignore the slight twisting in his gut that loudly insisted that it most certainly wasn’t fine. He squashed down the ugly feeling and smiled politely at Manami. “I’m sorry for keeping you.”

“No, no, it was my fault for forgetting in the first place,” Manami laughed waving it off. “Ahh, I hope he doesn’t get mad if I’m late... he did seem like the sort who’d get mad about that, too.”

“Maybe if you hurry you won’t make him wait for too long,” Onoda managed, although at the moment it was the absolute last thing he wanted to suggest. “I mean, I’m sure he’ll understand if you're a couple of minutes late, since you just had class....”

Manami beamed at him, as if Onoda wasn’t the last person on Earth who deserved his kindness. “Good plan... thanks, Sakamichi! I’ll see you later!”

And then he was gone, leaving Onoda alone with his thoughts which were, at the moment, not particularly welcoming.

What was that?

Onoda stood in the Charms corridor for nearly a full minute after Manami had disappeared into the stairwell, wondering what in the world was wrong with him.

Where had those terrible thoughts come from? Had he always been so selfish? Was he really so possessive that hearing about Manami having plans with someone else would upset him that much?

Really, Onoda should consider himself lucky that Manami even liked him enough to spend time with him at all, not feel resentment towards someone he didn’t even know for also having Manami’s attention. It was good that Manami had other friends-- after all, even Onoda had other friends, and Manami didn’t seem bothered when Onoda talked about them around him.

(Part of Onoda almost wished it did bother Manami more, but like the other nasty thoughts that were crowding his mind, he mercilessly beat it down.)

This isn’t like me, Onoda thought worriedly. He was aware that he had many flaws, but he hadn’t ever thought of himself as a particularly possessive or controlling person before.

Maybe he’d just never been like that before because he had never had friends to see as his own before, he realized with a dawning sense of horror. Maybe finally having friends had actually awakened something awful in him. After all, hadn’t his mom had even warned him that people who let their own feelings interfere with their friends’ other relationships were the ones who were bad friends?

But... there was still a slight chance that he was simply overreacting, and Onoda clung to this possibility like a lifeline. It was, after all, the first time in months that he’d seen Manami, so it wasn’t too surprising that he’d feel a bit upset about losing a chance to reconnect with a friend whom he’d missed... right? And Onoda was already stressed out because of the upcoming Quidditch tryouts, so maybe that was why he was feeling a bit more on-edge-- and insecure-- than usual.

So it was possible that there was still a reasonable explanation for this that didn’t end with him just being a bad person.

Maybe.

Pulling himself together with effort, Onoda clutched his bookbag tightly to his chest and made his way downstairs, hoping to meet up with Imaizumi or Naruko somewhere on the way to the Great Hall. They had a way of making him feel better when he was upset, and he figured he could use the distraction right now.

And hopefully, the rapidly-approaching house Quidditch tryouts would also help take his mind off of things, and whatever it was that was going on with him would be back to normal before he knew it.

***

The first house to hold Quidditch tryouts was Ravenclaw.

Imaizumi had sat down to breakfast the morning of the Ravenclaw tryouts with what appeared to be his customary level of composure, but the way he gripped his spoon a bit too tightly and seemed to have to remind himself to actually follow through and eat his oatmeal after taking the trouble to put it on his spoon in the first place had alerted Onoda to the fact that he was actually very nervous.

It actually came as a surprise to see Imaizumi so worked up about something that Onoda knew he was good at, but Imaizumi was only human, after all. There would be older students trying out as well, so it’s not as if there would be no competition for openings on the team.

“You look like you’re gearing up to attend your own execution, hotshot,” Naruko said with a complete lack of anything resembling delicacy, taking a sloppy bite of a piece of toast that was probably about two parts more jam than bread and scattering crumbs halfway across the table with every word he spoke. “I almoft feel forry for--”

“Don’t talk with your mouth full,” Imaizumi snapped, setting down his spoon with a bit more force than necessary. “That’s disgusting.”

“Rude,” Naruko said, although he did swallow before continuing. “But you know, the world won’t end if you take slightly bigger bites than that-- really, at this rate we’ll all have graduated before you manage to finish daintily eating your bland-ass oatmeal.”

“I don’t know why you’re complaining about me being slow,” Imaizumi said briskly, wiping his mouth with a napkin before crumpling it and setting it on the table next to his bowl. “I’m already finished.”

Onoda frowned worriedly. “Are you sure, Shunsuke? You really haven’t eaten much--”

“It’s enough,” Imaizumi interrupted. “I don’t want to weigh myself down any more than necessary.”

Naruko gave a short burst of laughter, but Onoda quickly began speaking before he could say anything offensive.

“But you’ll need the energy, won’t you?” he asked. “And I don’t think just finishing your bowl would really weigh you down that much. Maybe just a little more...?”

“I told you, I’m fine,” Imaizumi huffed, standing. For a moment it looked as if he might leave without any other explanation, but just as he was about to step away he visibly reconsidered, looking slightly chagrined. “Sorry,” he said, glancing between Onoda and Naruko. “I know this probably seems sudden, but tryouts will begin in just over an hour, so I need to go get ready now or I’ll be late. I’ll see you both later.”

“Uh... yeah, we’ll be waiting!” Onoda said before he could make his escape. “Good luck!”

Imaizumi didn’t respond, and Onoda sunk back into his seat, unable to stop himself from worrying despite himself. He knew how much this meant to Imaizumi-- really, getting onto a Quidditch team meant a lot to Onoda, so he could barely imagine how important this was to his friend.

And Imaizumi’s reaction seemed to indicate that getting on Quidditch team was actually really difficult. And if Imaizumi was worried, then what chance did someone like Onoda have?

“Hey, Shoukichi?" Onoda asked.

Naruko paused in in the act of not-so-subtly sneaking a fingerful of jam out of the jar. “Hmm?” he asked, popping his finger in his mouth. “What’s up?”

“Is Imaizumi... do you think he’s going to be okay?” he asked.

Naruko stared at him for several seconds before grinning, as if Onoda had said something funny. “Hotshot? Yeah, he’ll be fine.”

“Really?”

“Of course! I mean, he might have a shitty personality but he’s a really good flyer for a second year,” Naruko said confidently. “He’s going to completely blow away the competition, I guarantee it. Poor loser just has no confidence for some reason-- it’s kind of sad, really.”

Onoda nodded uncomfortably, looking down at his food.

“And you should have more confidence too, Sakamichi,” Naruko continued after barely a pause. “You’ve been working hard and you’ve really gotten better-- your team would be complete idiots not to see that. I’m sure there’ll be a position for you, too.”

It took effort, but Onoda managed a small smile. “I hope you’re right. Thanks, Shoukichi-- I’ll do my best not to let you or Shunsuke down.”

Naruko looked like he wanted to add something at that, but with a rare show of control, he pursed his lips and chose to remain silent. “Hey,” he said eventually, “want to go out onto the grounds to wait for hotshot to be finished? We could take our brooms out for a bit of practice while we wait.”

Onoda nodded gratefully. “Yeah, that sounds good.”

Evidently Imaizumi hadn’t had anything to worry about, because he came to the spot on the grounds where Naruko and Onoda were resting after their practice around two hours later, looking thoroughly mussed but satisfied.

“So how did you do?” Naruko asked through narrowed eyes as Imaizumi flopped down on the grass next to Onoda, pulling a copy of The Daily Prophet out of his bag as he did so.

“Keeper,” Imaizumi said, as he unfolded his newspaper, as if this result had never been subject to even the smallest amount of doubt. “They said I could choose between Keeper and Chaser, but there were way more potential Chasers than there were Keepers, so I went with that.”

“Pfft, so boring, hotshot,” Naruko teased, pulling up handfuls of grass and throwing it in his general direction. "You’re going to be stuck in front of a goal for the whole game-- laaaaaaame.”

Imaizumi glared. “Keepers have an enormous impact on the results of a match. It’s an important position.”

“Yeah, yeah, keep telling yourself that,” Naruko snickered. “Can’t say it doesn’t suit you to play a supporting role, though. Me, I’m going with a position that’s actually important, like Seeker, so--” he broke off suddenly and whipped around, glaring at Imaizumi. “What was that, huh?”

Imaizumi raised an eyebrow. “What was what?”

“You snorted. Just when I said I was going to try out as a Seeker.”

“You’re imagining things,” Imaizumi said.

“No, I definitely heard a snort! What’s your problem?” Naruko demanded angrily. “Do you think that just because you’ve got a confirmed spot on your team already you’re some kind of--”

“Fine,” Imaizumi said, putting down his copy of The Daily Prophet in his lap briskly. “You want to know what I’m thinking, here it is-- I think your reasons for wanting to be a Seeker are poorly considered and foolish. That’s what I think.”

Naruko drew back as if burned, looking startled by Imaizumi’s blunt response. “Why, you--” his eyes narrowed dangerously, anger quickly replacing his surprise. “You piece of shit, what the hell do you think gives you the right to decide that for me? You don’t even know why--”

“--why you want to be a Seeker in the first place?” Imaizumi finished his sentence for him. “It’s because it’s a special position that usually goes to the fastest player on a team, and the Seeker often scores the most points in a game, which means that there’s a lot of attention on them from the spectators. Am I wrong?”

Naruko opened and closed his mouth, clearly startled that Imaizumi had managed to infer that much.

“I understand your reasoning, naive as it may be, but there’s another side to consider this from,” Imaizumi continued. “First of all, Seekers are a very specialized type of flyer-- their accuracy has to be pinpoint, but in most cases Seekers aren’t especially good athletes. You, however, have the advantage of being in decent physical shape and could probably learn to play any position without too much difficulty. It would be a waste not to take advantage of that, especially since the Seeker usually spends the majority of the game doing nothing as they wait for the Snitch to appear. I also think, with a personality like yours, it is ridiculous to think you could stand that amount of inaction.”

“But-- that’s,” Naruko choked. “How do you know... that I--”

Onoda, meanwhile, found his sense of alarm at the possibility of an impending argument dwindling into cautious interest the longer their exchange went on. It seemed as though this was more than Imaizumi simply picking a fight.

Onoda’s suspicions were confirmed with Imaizumi’s next words.

“You should try out as a Chaser,” Imaizumi said.

“Huh?” Naruko looked flabbergasted, as if Imaizumi had just suggested something completely unheard of. “Me, a Chaser? Are you kidding?”

“It would suit you,” Imaizumi said, dead serious. “Speed is a necessary trait for Chasers, and you’d be able to play for the entire game rather than just a little bit every time the Snitch shows up. You’d probably like it, and you would still be able to score points for your team-- that wouldn’t change.”

“Score points? Yeah, that’s hilarious,” Naruko laughed humourlessly. “Only ten points for a goal though? Who even cares-- the Seeker’s the one who gets the most points, and the most credit for the win. The Chasers might as well be doing nothing.”

“If you really believe that then your understanding of how Quidditch works must be even worse than I’d imagined. Chasers are a necessary and vitally important part of the team,” Imaizumi said, looking slightly exasperated with having to explain himself. “And if you’d like, you can look at it this way-- Seekers are capable of scoring 150 points in a game--”

“--I know that already, “ Naruko said testily. “I’m not an idiot.”

“--But they’re also limited to 150 points in a game,” Imaizumi emphasized, watching Naruko closely to gauge his reaction. “Chasers, on the other hand, have no maximum number of goals that they can score-- the only thing determining how many points they win is the limit of their own abilities. If you, as a Chaser, can put your team over 150 points in the lead then you can effectively render the opposing team’s Seeker useless. That’s something that you wouldn’t be able to do in any other position.”

Naruko was staring at Imaizumi, clearly speechless in light of this new information. Imaizumi, meanwhile, leaned back in his seat, deceptively casual.

“You’ll do whatever you want, of course-- I just wanted to give you some perspective that you might have missed in your haste to show off,” Imaizumi said in a light tone, picking up his newspaper again. “Although I suppose it would be a challenge for anyone to score 150 points in a game as a Chaser... and probably impossible for an impatient little attention-hog like you, come to think of it. Maybe you would have better luck as a Seeker after all.”

Naruko slammed his hands down on the table. “Screw you hotshot, nothing is impossible for me! I’ll do it-- I’ll get onto the Gryffindor team as a Chaser and then the first thing I’m going to do is destroy you! I’ll score over 150 points in every game and then you’ll regret ever giving me the idea in the first place!!”

“That all sounds impressive, but good luck scoring with me as a Keeper,” Imaizumi said, clearly intending to convey a complete lack of interest, but his words betrayed him by coming out as more of a taunt. “You’re going to need it.”

“We’ll see if you change your tune when I put a Quaffle right through your smug face.” Naruko shot back.

“If you’re actually stupid enough to aim right for me rather than the empty goal then you’ll be making my job a lot easier.”

“Well maybe this way maybe you’ll at least manage to stop something, huh?”

“That’s assuming you even make it to the goal in the first place without falling off your broom.”

“Kakaka, I bet you’ll be wishing that would happen, hotshot.”

“I already wish it would happen.”

“HA, I told you so... wait, what?”

Onoda was almost positive that if he pulled aside Imaizumi’s newspaper, he would see him doing his utmost to force back a smile.

Naruko, unsurprisingly, made it onto the Gryffindor team the next day. What did come as a surprise to most people who knew him, however, was that he only tried out for one position, and that position was Chaser.

Contrary to everything he had been saying previously to anyone who would listen, he didn’t even bother trying out for Seeker.

***

On the day of the Hufflepuff Quidditch tryouts, Onoda gained a new appreciation for how nervous Imaizumi must have been before his own, and how well he had handled himself despite it.

“You’ll do fine!” Naruko said brightly, patting Onoda on the shoulder. Onoda couldn’t find it in himself to respond, and was too busy morosely staring at the plate of eggs, toast, and sausages that Naruko had put in front of him. “But holy shit, you and hotshot are the absolute worst when it comes to handling stress.”

“You’re the worst at recognizing when you should be feeling stressed,” Imaizumi snapped. “Look, if he’s not hungry, he’s not hungry. Don’t try to make him eat if he doesn’t want to.”

“Even you ate something,” Naruko complained. “Sakamichi still hasn’t touched a thing.”

“Maybe he just doesn’t want to load up on greasy sausages before experiencing sudden altitude changes and is just too polite to tell you, did that even occur to you?”

“Guys,” Onoda said wearily. “It’s okay, I’m just not really hungry right now. Shoukichi, thank-you for the thought, but I’m okay, really.”

“Hnrgh, whatever you say,” Naruko said, doubt obvious in his tone. However doubtful he might have been, however, it did not keep him from sliding Onoda’s plate out from under him and beginning to pick at it himself. “I wish I could go cheer you on,” he said regretfully, munching a sausage. “But people from different houses aren’t allowed to watch each others’ tryouts, especially if they’re already on the Quidditch team. We’ll be with you in spirit, though, and we’ll be waiting for you when you’re done to congratulate you!”

“We’ll be waiting no matter what happens,” Imaizumi corrected. “I think you can do it, but we’ll be there even if you don't make it this time. Okay?”

Onoda already knew that, of course, but Imaizumi’s promise was still incredibly reassuring.

“Thank you,” Onoda said, standing. “I’d better be going now... it’s probably better to be early rather than too late. See you later.”

Imaizumi glanced up. “Good luck.”

“See you, Sakamichi! Break a leg!”

“Why would you say that?” Imaizumi asked, aghast.

“It’s just an expression, holy shit, hotshot-- do you think I’d actually hope he hurt himself?”

“How am I supposed to know with you? You’re so bloody-minded that--”

“That’s pretty rich coming from the guy voted ‘most likely to deliberately try to knock someone off their broomstick’ in our year--”

“You can’t use that against me when we have no proof that it wasn’t just something someone stuck onto the wall as a prank!”

“Prank or not, it’s completely true! Remember the first time we raced? If we hadn’t been over the lake, then--”

Onoda was too far away to hear the rest of the conversation, but he figured he already had a pretty good idea of how it would go.

On his way back from the dormitories after changing into his practice gear, Onoda ran into Miki. She was also wearing the robes that they would be trying out in, although she appeared far more excited than nervous as she chatted with Aya beside the main entrance.

“Oh--hi, Sakamichi!” she exclaimed when she noticed him. “Are you heading to tryouts now too? Here, I’ll walk with you. I’ll talk to you later, Aya-- I have to go try out for the Quidditch team now!”

“Just don’t die, idiot,” Aya said, her mouth quirking up fondly. “I’m not going to weep over your prone body if you end up in the infirmary, you know.”

“You’re the worst friend ever,” Miki pouted, before taking Onoda’s hand in hers. “That’s it,” she decided, “Sakamichi is my best friend from now on. After all, we’re going to be on the same Quidditch team, so obviously we’re destined. Soulmates, even. You can’t possibly stand between us.”

“Okay, fine,” Aya said without batting an eyelash. “Try being best friends with Sakamichi if you want, but you’ll be in a three-way battle for that spot with his weirdo clique for the rest of your life. If you’re fine with that, then go for it.”

Miki winced. “Okay, you got me. You’re my best friend forever, Aya, even if you have the absolute worst taste in books and the only sports you like are boring ones.”

“That’s what I thought,” Aya said, smirking. “Later.”

“Bye!” Miki waved back cheerfully. “I’ll tell you how it all turned out tonight!”

It helped Onoda the keep his panic down somewhat, having Miki with him as they made their way to the Quidditch pitch. She was a chatty person and listening to her stories about things she and Aya got up to kept Onoda from overthinking himself, and even just her presence served as a reminder that at least he wouldn’t be completely alone-- there would be at least one familiar face trying out alongside him, and that knowledge was at least a little bit comforting.

The regular Hufflepuff players were already there when they arrived, wearing their yellow and black Quidditch robes instead of practice gear, so it was easy to tell them apart from the new applicants despite the fact that a considerable number of the new hopefuls seemed to be older than Onoda. While he didn’t know anyone on the Hufflepuff team particularly well, he was able to immediately spot Makishima despite the fact that he looked completely different than he had the last time he had seen him. His hair was at least twice as long as it had been and was no longer purple, but rather a bright, iridescent green. As usual, though, he was difficult to miss and his unusual facial features made him instantly recognizable.

Onoda didn’t think he looked very happy, however, and he briefly wondered why.

More people began to arrive after Onoda and Miki, and soon there were around ten or so new arrivals standing awkwardly on the field. A tall boy with a clipboard came around and took everyone’s name, and then there was another short wait before they were all directed to line up in front of the bench that was being occupied by the Hufflepuff team. The boy with the clipboard was standing front and center, twirling his self-inking quill absentmindedly between his fingers as the newcomers moved into position.

“So as it stands this year, we have our Seeker and Keeper positions filled, but we’re looking for two new Chasers and one Beater,” he said once everyone had stopped moving, flipping through the pages quickly and glancing up at the applicants, as if trying to assign a face to each name. Onoda suspected that he was the captain, based on the fact that he seemed to be speaking the most and looked to be the oldest person on the team. If he had made any formal introduction earlier, though, then Onoda had missed it entirely. “We’ll choose our new members from your group today, based on how you perform in the drills we’ve set out for you.”

Onoda fought back a sudden surge of nerves, reminding himself that he had expected this. To the best of his knowledge, he didn’t have a strong preference for either Beater or Chaser, so he’d just have to see which one suited him better.

“Alright, then. We’ll start by splitting you off into two groups. If you’re interested in trying out for Beater, then can I get you to go stand on the left side. Chasers, the right side.”

Or… maybe not.

Onoda stood in one place, unsure of what he should be doing as the rest of the applicants-- including Miki-- all made their way toward one of the two sides, leaving him standing alone in the middle.

Eventually, the boy with the clipboard approached him.

“You didn’t pick a side,” he said. “Do you not know which one you want to try out for?”

Onoda averted his eyes, embarrassed. “... No, not really,” he admitted. He knew what the role of each player was, but he had no idea if one of them would suit him more than the other.

“Hmm...” the boy said, not unkindly. “You don’t really have the physique of a beater, but we can try putting you in with the Chasers, just to see how you take to it. How does that sound?”

A Chaser, like Naruko. That didn’t sound too bad.

“Uh, okay,” Onoda said cautiously.

The older boy nodded, apparently satisfied. “Alright then, I’ll leave you to Yasutomo.”

The name sounded vaguely familiar to Onoda but it was only when he saw the Quidditch player’s face that he realized exactly who “Yasutomo” was.

Oh no, Onoda thought with a sinking realization.

If the captain was to be believed, then apparently he and the other five Chaser hopefuls were to be left to the tender mercies of Arakita, the sour-looking (and unquestionably the most terrifying) member of the Hufflepuff Quidditch team.

Arakita, who was, at that precise moment, eying their small group dubiously. “Spirited bunch we’ve got here,” he said sarcastically. “You,” he snapped suddenly, pointing at to a boy on the end. “What’s your name?”

“S-Sakurai, sir!” The boy stuttered, and Onoda supposed it was small consolation that he was apparently not the only person who was frightened of Arakita.

“Do I fucking look like a ‘sir’ to you, brighteyes? I’m not a goddamn professor-- call me Arakita, or better yet don't call me anything and just keep your mouth shut. So you’re wanting to be a Chaser, huh?”

“Y-yes....”

“Wow, such conviction,” Arakita said mockingly. “How about you?” he pointed at Onoda.

Onoda could have sworn his heart stopped beating.

“Yes, I’m talking to you, four-eyes,” Arakita shouted. “Just answer the question, damn it!”

Onoda swallowed, although his mouth was dry so it did little to help. “I-it’s Onoda,” he managed in a quiet voice.

“I can barely fucking hear you, four-eyes, but whatever. You want to be a Chaser too?”

Onoda nodded. “Yes....”

“Holy fuck,” Arakita said, audibly grinding his teeth as he turned away, as if the sight of them actually caused him physical pain. “I am utterly blown away by your enthusiasm. Fucking heroes, the lot of you.”

No one had the courage to respond, and eventually he turned back towards them, looking more irritated than ever. “Well we might as well see if one of you has it in you to throw a ball or take a Bludger without snapping in half, although I really doubt it,” he said nastily. “Get on your brooms, we’re starting with flying drills.”

Thankfully, it turned out that the drills Arakita had laid out were fairly similar to what Onoda had been expecting. To be honest, for someone as scary as Arakita the things they were expected to do seemed quite... tame in comparison.

For their first drill, they were to navigate their way through a series of colourful flags that had been magically suspended in the air as quickly as they could without hitting any of them. It was something that Onoda was already pretty good at, although his performance likely suffered due to his constant fear of being yelled at. There was one recruit who was particularly bad at making quick turns who suffered numerous verbal lashings courtesy of Arakita throughout the drill, and Onoda knew that the last thing he wanted was to be the one to draw the Chaser’s ire.

“Holy fuck, you’re supposed to go around the flags, you clumsy idiot! Not go through them!”

“What did I just finish telling you? Jesus ffffffffuck--”

The process continued for about fifteen minutes, with Arakita alternately screaming directions and insults until finally, mercifully, they had all completed the circuit. There was no chance for the new applicants to collect themselves, however, before it was time to begin the next drill.

Arakita directed them all into a circle, still on their brooms and said, right eye twitching, “Well, that was utterly and spectacularly awful. The good news is that this next one is so simple that you probably won’t even need me to hold your hands the whole time. This is a passing drill, so on my mark, you’re going to spread out into a big circle. When you get the ball, you’re going to pick someone and you’re going to throw the ball to them. Aim for the chest-- anything that falls higher or lower is a bad pass, and if you make a bad pass in a game then we lose possession,” he narrowed his eyes. “Simple enough? Once we’ve started like that I’ll be moving you around, so you’ll be throwing up, down, and behind you, so it’ll give you a bit of an idea of what you can expect to be doing in an actual game.”

It all sounded reasonable, and Onoda certainly understood the importance of the exercise, but it soon became clear to him that this was the extent of his own abilities as far as being a Chaser was concerned. Onoda had never been particularly good at passing-- his arm muscles were weak, and he had always harboured a particular dislike for sports where knowing how to throw properly was an absolute necessity.

Naturally, Arakita realized this about Onoda very soon into the drill.

“HEY FOUR-EYES, YOU CALL THAT A PASS?”

It all went downhill from there. Not only was Onoda not able to keep up with the passing drill or capable of actually throwing the Quaffle far enough to reach the other player or accurately enough to satisfy Arakita, his nerves were utterly shot. He was so worried about doing something wrong that he became unable to follow even the most simple instructions, which, unsurprisingly only served to irritate Arakita more.

By the time Arakita finally announced that they were finished “this depressing fucking spectacle,” Onoda was so relieved that couldn’t even find it in himself to regret the fact that he had probably just destroyed any chance he’d had of making the Quidditch team.

At first, anyways.

It was only after he had made his way over to one of the benches that lined the edges of the pitch and sat down that he remembered why it was that he had wanted this so badly in the first place, and his insecurities began to creep in again.

He would fail-- he had already failed, more likely than not. There was no way Onoda would get on the Quidditch team now, based on how badly he’d played. Arakita hated him. Despite his best efforts, and everything he had trained for, he had allowed it all to come to nothing.

He had let down Imaizumi and Naruko, who had both worked hard to make it onto their teams and were looking forward to being able to play Quidditch against Onoda... they’d say it was fine and do their best to comfort him, of course, but he knew they’d be at least a little bit upset underneath it all.

But what was really the root of the issue was that he’d let himself down. He was such an idiot for allowing himself to even think that if he put his mind to something he’d be successful in the first place-- shouldn’t he know better by now? Some people were meant to stand out and do amazing things, and Onoda wasn’t one of them. He should have accepted that in the beginning and saved himself the trouble.

Clearly Manami hadn’t ever understood him at all, and any interest he might have had in Onoda was misplaced. Onoda didn’t blame him for wanting to make better friends.

So immersed was Onoda in his doubts that he almost didn’t notice when someone took a seat on the bench next to him, although once noticed, this person was difficult to ignore. He was tall and sallow with a lot of green hair, which narrowed down the possibilities as to who it could be to a considerable degree.

They sat next to each other in silence for several long minutes, Onoda staring down at the ground between his feet with his shoulders hunched while Makishima picked idly at a loose thread on his gloves. Eventually, though, Makishima abandoned his fidgeting and sighed, glancing over at Onoda.

“So... Arakita tells me that you have the worst throwing arm he’s ever seen,” the fourth year said, his tone conversational.

Onoda looked away, ashamed. “I’m really sorry. I wasted all of your time, and--”

“Arakita, charming as he is, has all the delicacy of a Beater’s bat to the groin,” Makishima said, chuckling awkwardly at his own joke. “I’ve been on this team with him for three years and I’ve never seen him mince his words for anyone, so you shouldn’t take it too personally,” he paused for a moment, possibly considering his next words carefully. “I think he’s right about some things, though-- it looks like Chaser really isn’t the position for you.”

“...I think you’re right,” Onoda said, chest feeling tight. “I just... I don’t--”

Makishima's next words, however, were unexpected.

“If you’re okay with it though, I want to try something,” he said. “Would you mind getting on a broom one more time?”

“... All right,” Onoda replied tentatively. He was still feeling pretty emotionally drained from Arakita’s Chaser trials, but he liked Makishima from what little he's seen of him, and he didn't want to disappoint him. “What do you want me to do?”

“Just go up a few meters or so in the air for now,” Makishima said. “I’ll give you more instructions once you’re in position, but it’s nothing complicated, I promise.”

Feeling vaguely confused, Onoda picked up his broom and walked out onto the grass. He kicked off, taking care not to rise as far off the ground as he normally would, and noticed that Makishima was pulling a bucket of something out from under the bench, and that there were a number of faces looking curiously in his direction.

Many of them belonged to regular members of the Hufflepuff team, and Onoda silently prayed that he would get out of this without humiliating himself further.

“Okay, then,” Makishima said, carrying the bucket onto the pitch and setting it down at his feet. “So we’re not going to be doing anything complicated here, just a bit of catching practice-- catching without the passing part, don’t worry. How does that sound?”

“Uh... that sounds fine,” Onoda said, still confused.

Catching practice? Makishima hadn’t brought out a Quaffle, so Onoda had no idea what he was supposed to be catching.

His question was answered shortly, when Makishima reached into the bucket and pulled out something very small and bright orange.

“Catch!” Makishima said without warning, and threw the object in Onoda’s general direction with all his strength.

Onoda, surprised, barely managed to gather his wits in time to catch the object before it hit the ground. It was only after it was clasped safely in his hands that he finally realized what it was-- a golfball.

It was such a very muggle thing to see in the middle of a Quidditch practice that Onoda was momentarily taken aback.

“No time to rest, Sakamichi, here comes the next one!” Makishima called out, snapping Onoda back to his senses. He looked up just in time to see Makishima throw another golfball in the exact opposite direction he had thrown the first.

It was only by pushing his new broom to the absolute limit that he managed to reach the next ball in time, snagging it out of the air just in time to pull up from his dive. This time, he didn’t even have a chance to catch his breath before Makishima was throwing another golfball in a completely different direction, and Onoda prepared to chase after it again.

They repeated the same process ten, twenty times before Onoda lost track of the numbers, his senses all focused in on Makishima’s directions and the trajectory of the tiny orange ball as it streaked across his line of sight. He managed to catch most of them but he missed several, sometimes overshooting his mark or simply failing to reach the ball in time. Makishima never gave any verbal cues as to how he was doing-- if he was angry at Onoda for the misses, Onoda was never given any indication. Makishima would simply choose another ball and throw again.

The drill--or whatever it was-- continued until the bucket was empty and the once-pristine grass of the Quidditch pitch was littered with bright orange golfballs.

Makishima straightened and rotated his shoulder experimentally, ostensibly checking for soreness-- Onoda was only now realizing just how many balls he must have thrown for him. “Not bad,” he said, and Onoda couldn’t entirely read his expression from this distance, so he had no idea if it was intended to be a genuine compliment or not. “You can come back down now, thanks.”

Onoda did as he was told, and went back to his seat on the bench as Makishima approached the rest of the team and they began to discuss something amongst themselves in quiet tones. Meanwhile Onoda wondered if he should be picking up the golfballs until he noticed one of the older players-- Izumida, it looked like-- was summoning the balls back into the bucket with his wand absentmindedly as he listened to the others talk.

Eventually, some kind of decision was reached, and the Hufflepuff regulars dispersed, approaching the new applicants individually. Onoda’s heart stuttered as he realized that this was the moment that he would finally find out whether he had made the team or not-- the moment he had been waiting for for nearly a year.

Onoda noticed that Miki was talking to the fourth-year Izumida, and that her expression was wildly happy. It looked like she had taken the open Beater position, and Onoda couldn’t be more proud of her. He was sure that she would love being on the team, and that she would do a fantastic job.

Onoda clenched his fists until his knuckles turned white.

Now there was only himself to worry about.

Mercifully, he didn’t have long to wait before one of the regular members made their way over to him, and Onoda steeled himself for the news they would bring.

Just... please don’t let it be Arakita, Onoda silently begged. Pleasepleaseplease....

The person who eventually approached him was Makishima, and Onoda breathed a mental sigh of relief. Whatever the final verdict was, it would at least be a little bit less terrifying to hear it from Makishima rather than it would be from Arakita, or nearly anyone else for that matter.

“Okay, so we’ve all come to an agreement.... more or less,” Makishima said with a shrug, coming to a halt in front of Onoda. “So now I have to figure out how I’m supposed to say this... give me a second.”

Onoda waited, feeling more nervous by the moment.

“So basically,” Makishima continued, “we all-- the team, that is-- agree that you’ve got potential, but you’ve still got a lot to learn as well. You’re only a second year, so it’s not like this year’s your last chance or anything-- there’s still plenty of time for improvement and we all have high hopes for you in coming years. Do you understand?

“Yes...” Onoda said, his heart breaking as he recognized the words for what they were-- a gentle letdown.

Gentle or not, though, the results were the same. Failure was failure.

Remembering that Makishima was still there and probably had more to say to him, Onoda struggled to resurface from his sudden onslaught of insecurities so he could at at least finish this conversation and leave as decent an impression as possible, under the circumstances. His throat felt tight, like he was only a few breaths away from crying, but he attempted to swallow the urge down.

“Good,” Makishima continued, as if Onoda wasn’t on the verge of a meltdown. “Then I guess I’ll see you at practice next Saturday.”

“Okay, thank-you,” Onoda managed, blinking as tears began to cloud his vision despite his best efforts. Don’t cry, don’t cry, he mentally urged himself-- it would be nice to spare himself this one last humiliation. “I’ll be sure to... wait,” he said, as it finally clicked into place just what Makishima had said to him. “What?”

“I said I’ll see you at practice,” Makishima said, looking like he didn’t entirely know how to react to what he had seen of Onoda’s emotional display-- which, Onoda now realized, was wildly out of place in light of his new understanding of what Makishima had actually been saying from the beginning. “You were planning on coming, right?”

“You mean... I’m allowed to show up to practice?” Onoda asked, hardly daring to believe that he was hearing correctly. “To... practice with the rest of the team?”

“Well... yeah,” Makishima said, rubbing an awkward hand along the back of his neck. “I just finished saying you still have a lot to learn, and it would probably be a bit of a downer to everyone if our new Seeker ditched the first practice, don’t you think?”

“Yes! I think it would be, and... because I’m the Seeker?”

“... Yes?” Makishima answered.

“Oh,” Onoda said. “Oh!” he exclaimed again as the truth finally sunk in, unable to suppress a genuinely ecstatic smile as he looked up at the much-taller fourth year.

He could barely believe his good fortune.

Onoda clenched his fists tightly at his sides, and forced out, “Thank-you so much! I promise I’ll work hard and do my best to become the Seeker that this team deserves!”

“Uh... okay?” Makishima said. “Saturday at 11:00, remember.”

“Yes--of course!” Onoda said. “I’ll be there for sure, I promise! I won’t be late-- I’ll make sure to arrive at least half an hour early. Or even earlier than that, if you think that would be better!”

“Just 11:00 is fine,” Makishima said weakly. “That’s all I really have left to say, then... see you, Sakamichi.”

“Yes! Goodbye, Makishima! And thank-you again!”

“It’s not like it was just my choice,” Makishima said in what he was probably intending to be an apathetic voice, but Onoda thought he might have sounded a little bit amused despite himself. “You’re welcome, though.”

Chapter Text

If Onoda had thought that Imaizumi and Naruko would be pleased to hear that he had made the Quidditch team, he soon found that he was mistaken.

Imaizumi and Naruko were overjoyed to hear about Onoda’s new position as Hufflepuff Seeker, Imaizumi cracking one of his rare genuine smiles after Onoda had breathlessly stuttered out his news and Naruko (predictably) catching Onoda in a headlock and ruffling his hair enthusiastically.

“Oh my shit you actually did it, Sakamichi! I can’t believe it!” Naruko exclaimed, his voice breathless as he tugged on Onoda’s hair playfully, helpless to contain his own glee. “That’s all three of us now!”

The words-- while spoken with genuine delight-- were perhaps a little too surprised to be entirely reassuring, but Onoda didn’t hold it against Naruko. He still couldn’t quite believe that he’d made the team either, and also strongly suspected that the reason that had made it had more to do with Makishima’s actions than it did Onoda’s questionable Quidditch abilities.

He hoped that Makishima might be willing to provide an explanation later.

“When is your first practice?” Imaizumi asked, drawing Onoda back from his thoughts. His smile from before had dissipated for the time being, but his eyes still crinkling in a way that suggested he was merely containing his happiness rather than broadcasting it.

“This Saturday,” Onoda said, suddenly nervous about voicing any of his suspicions out loud. “It’ll only be a couple of hours, though. I think someone has the pitch booked after us.”

“Oh, that’s probably my team then!” Naruko said. “I can’t really remember when ours is-- I was a bit too pumped to pay attention when they announced it-- but it would make sense, since both of our teams will be needing all the practice time we can get!”

Onoda wondered if he’d missed something, because Naruko seemed to be implying something specific. “Well, yeah, I know that practice is important. But why is it so important for us in particular?” he asked, a bit lost. If it had just been Onoda he would understand, since he really did need as much extra practice as possible, but Naruko was already probably a better-than-average player even by Hogwarts’ standards. If the rest of Naruko’s team was similarly talented, then they should have nothing to worry about.

“Because the first match of the season is going to be in just over a month from now-- don’t tell me you haven’t heard yet, Sakamichi?” Naruko asked, eyes wide. “It’s Gryffindor versus Hufflepuff, Sakamichi-- it’s our first-ever official match and we’ll be playing each other for it! Isn’t that amazing?”

For a second it felt like the room gave a sickening lurch, but Onoda took a deep breath, composing himself, and his world gradually began to right itself again.

“R-really? You’re right, that’s… really amazing,” he said, although his mind was a flurry of indecision.

Realistically, Onoda knew he had no good reason to be feeling this way. He had chosen to try out for the Quidditch team knowing full well that if he was successful he would be playing against his friends. Wasn’t that the whole point anyways? Hadn’t they all wanted to play Quidditch together despite the fact that they were all in different houses?

It seemed that there was a significant difference between hoping you’d have the opportunity to do something in the future and knowing exactly when that thing would be happening, though. There were so many things that could go wrong, and Onoda still wasn’t sure how he felt about competing against one of his best friends with the intent of beating him at something. It made Onoda feel uneasy, as both someone who wanted more than anything to see his friend do well and as a beginning athlete who worried that he would fail if he were to go up against someone better than him.

In the end, however, the only resolution he could find to console himself with was the knowledge that since he was a Seeker and Naruko was a Chaser, their roles within their teams shouldn’t affect each other that much. And at least his friends seemed to be pleased with this outcome, so Onoda saw no reason why he couldn’t at least be happy for them.

Maybe it wouldn’t be too bad after all….

Even outside of the excitement of Onoda’s placement on the Hufflepuff Quidditch team, his life was going pretty well. Onoda attended his classes, and after messing up several of his Potions assignments beyond recognition and writing his ensuing punishment essays, he slowly but surely began to improve.

(This development may have had less to do with Onoda’s own skill and more to do with Imaizumi’s new and entirely coincidental habit of repeating the correct instructions rather loudly to himself as he worked, but it meant there were significantly fewer health and safety hazards in the classroom so the professor had yet to complain about it.)

Onoda had also managed to derail a potentially nasty fight between Imaizumi and Naruko before it got too out of hand (Imaizumi compared Naruko’s appearance to a Mandrake Root), although this victory was soured by his failure to stop another when Naruko had ‘accidentally’ knocked Imaizumi’s telescope out of the Astronomy tower window. He could hardly be blamed for not managing to prevent this one, Onoda understood on a rational level, since he had been asleep in the Hufflepuff dormitories at the time of the event, but he still wished there could have been some way to avoid the following several days of Imaizumi deliberately ignoring Naruko and the redhead’s alternately sulky behaviour and irritated remarks that Imaizumi was ‘overreacting’ because he was rich enough to just get himself a new telescope without any problem.

It had taken Onoda awhile to understand that most of the reason why Imaizumi was upset wasn’t because he was particularly attached to the old telescope or resented having to buy a new one, but rather because getting a new telescope would require him to first contact his parents. After Onoda made that connection, however, Imaizumi’s attitude made significantly more sense to him and he was able to carefully intervene.

While he hadn’t succeeded in keeping the argument from happening in the first place, Onoda had managed to end it by finally convincing Naruko to grudgingly apologize and offer to share his own telescope until Imaizumi got one of his own, an offer which was instantly--and predictably-- shot down. Imaizumi’s mood had improved significantly after that, however, so Onoda still chalked it up as a success.

The success that Onoda was met with in most of his recent endeavours even managed to take away a bit of the sting that Onoda felt due to the rapidly increasing number of instances that Manami seemed to have some excuse not to spend time with Onoda outside of class.

That’s not to say that Manami was deliberately trying to avoid him-- at least, Onoda didn’t think he was.

(He hoped he wasn’t.)

It was true that Manami was still coming to class, still sat next to Onoda in the seat he saved for him, and still smiled at Onoda sometimes, but he was absent in other ways. If Onoda hazarded a guess, he’d say Manami had more on his mind than just Charms and Astronomy whenever they met up in class, and there seemed to be a distracted look in his eyes even when Onoda tried to engage him in conversations that should have been specifically tailored to his interests.

It probably shouldn’t have hurt as much as it did, to be see Manami nodding along with him, smiling at something he said, but to know that the other boy’s mind was as far away from any thoughts of Onoda as it was possible to be. And inevitably, this would lead to Onoda wondering all over again about what-- or more specifically who had managed to catch hold of Manami’s interest to such a degree.

(To a degree that Onoda had never even come close to.)

Onoda had been briefly, naively hopeful that telling Manami that he had made the Quidditch team would pique his interest, and at first it seemed as if it had.

Onoda had decided to tell him at the start of their Charms lesson, and Manami had looked at him (actually really looked at him), blue eyes wide with obvious surprise as Onoda’s heart stuttered painfully in his chest. Then, after only a short pause, the corner of his mouth had made a small curl upwards.

“Unshakeable, huh?” Manami chuckled. “I’m really glad, Sakamichi--I think you’ll be good at it. Which position did you get?”

“Seeker!” Onoda said, a bit more enthusiastic than he would normally because wow, Manami was actually prompting him to continue the conversation and that hadn’t been happening a lot lately. “I wasn’t expecting it, but Makishima-- one of the older players on the team-- had me try catching some golfballs that he threw. And then he must have said something to the others, because after that they offered me the chance to be Seeker!”

Manami, weirdly, had looked even more surprised at that. “Seeker?” he repeated, as if the word tasted strange on his tongue.

“Yeah!” Onoda said, before sensing the change in the mood. “Is that… is that okay?” he asked, hoping that he hadn’t just messed everything up somehow.

Manami had been quick to recover, fixing Onoda with a brilliant smile that succeeded in blasting every other concern temporarily out of his mind with the force of its glow. “Yes, of course it’s fine! It seems like it’ll be a good fit for you, and I’m glad that that older teammate you mentioned is looking out for you. I was just surprised, I guess, considering….” he paused, chewing on his lower lip as if thinking something over. “Ah, nevermind, I’m just thinking out loud!” he said finally, rubbing the back of his head sheepishly.

“Considering what?” Onoda asked, his curiousity stirred.

“Nothing important, really,” Manami said, smiling disarmingly. “You’re the Seeker, that’s all that matters. I’m sure you’ll do a good job.”

Onoda wanted to protest that if it really was ‘nothing’ then there was no reason why Manami couldn’t tell him, but he heard the sounds of class beginning around him and was forced to abandon the conversation.

Even once class was over, there was no chance to bring up the question of what he had meant. As soon as the professor dismissed them, Manami was once again hastily packing up his unopened books and tucking away unused writing supplies as he cast Onoda an apologetic grin.

“Sorry, Sakamichi,” Manami said. “I have to go--”

“--meet with someone, yeah, I know,” Onoda finished for him, hoping that he succeeded in keeping most of the bitterness out of his voice. “It’s okay. We can talk some other time, right?”

“Definitely!” Manami said, and Onoda wondered if Manami thought he was lying. “See you later, Sakamichi!”

Manami dashed out of the classroom, and Onoda-- somewhat bitterly-- noted that a number of heads besides his own snapped up to follow him on his way out.

It was just another reminder that this year, unlike the previous one, Manami was anything but invisible.

Now, it just seemed like Onoda was the one who was invisible to Manami.

***

The following Saturday morning found Onoda arriving at the Quidditch pitch for Hufflepuff’s first scheduled practice a good half hour early.

He hadn’t made a conscious decision to leave when he did-- in the end, his own sense of restlessness had made the choice for him. He had woken up at the regular time for his classes and eaten his breakfast alone, since Naruko was sleeping in and Imaizumi was probably out exercising alone, since his two friends couldn’t make it and still have the energy for Quidditch practice later.

Needless to say, Onoda’s morning passed by very quietly.

He thoroughly expected to be the first one on the Quidditch pitch, but to his surprise, there was someone in Hufflepuff yellow was already sitting on one of the benches when Onoda arrived. He was instantly recognizable by his long green hair as being Makishima (and not someone else on the Hufflepuff team, like Arakita), which gave Onoda the confidence he needed to approach the bench and set his own broom down.

“G-good morning!” Onoda said, in a pathetic attempt at sounding friendly and casual.

Makishima raised a critical eyebrow. “I’m pretty sure I remember specifically telling you not to show up early for practice?”

“Oh,” Onoda said, embarrassed. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it--it’s done now,” Makishima said. “Might as well take a seat though, the others probably won’t be showing up for fifteen minutes or so at the very earliest.”

Onoda quickly did as Makishima asked and several long moments passed by, the silence beginning to grow increasingly awkward the longer they went without breaking it. Eventually Onoda cleared his throat, hoping to relieve some of the tension through small-talk.

“So… uh, what brings you here this early, then?” Onoda asked, kicking idly at the grass under his shoes and pausing when he belatedly realized that his question could be taken as a thinly-veiled criticism rather than a simple inquiry.

“I, uh…” Makishima paused, rubbing the back of his neck in a way that suggested he would greatly prefer to be somewhere else. “Nothing really, I guess I just ended up here. So yeah, good point--I probably shouldn’t have come this early, either.”

He seemed unsure with his answer but not mad, and Onoda inwardly breathed a sigh of relief.

“Do you mind if I ask you something?” he asked after a brief pause.

“That’s kind of what I’m here for, as your senior on the team,” Makishima said, sounding considerably less put-upon by the request than Onoda had expected. “As long as it’s something about Quidditch. Don’t ask me anything about your second year Transfiguration exams or Giggling Potions or anything even resembling relationship advice, though, I guarantee you’ll be disappointed.”

He followed up that answer with a thin smile, and Onoda suspected that this was possibly Makishima’s idea of a lighthearted joke, but he was still hesitant to laugh on the offhand chance that it would offend Makishima.

Makishima’s barely-there smile fell away when he wasn’t met with an immediate reaction, and he sighed. “What was it you wanted to ask, then?”

Onoda felt slightly guilty at that-- since judging by Makishima’s reaction, his statement had been intended as a joke. Since he had asked, though, he still continued with the question he’d been wanting an answer to since he’d been named the new Hufflepuff Seeker several days previously.

“Uh, that is… Makishima, sir,” Onoda stuttered out, nervousness making his tongue falter. “I know you said it wasn’t just your decision to put me on the team, but you were the one to give the others the idea in the first place, weren’t you?”

Makishima squinted at him thoughtfully. “You really don’t need to call me ‘sir,’ but... that would be correct, yes.”

“Why?” Onoda asked. “I mean… I am grateful to you for giving me a chance-- really, I am-- but I still don’t get why I was even chosen in the first place. I’m not a very good flyer yet, and I missed a lot of the golfballs you threw for me--”

“You still caught most of them,” Makishima interrupted. “Don’t you think that means something?”

Onoda hesitated. “Well… maybe, I don’t know,” he blustered. “But I was trying out as a Chaser, so why would I be offered the Seeker position anyways?”

Makishima sighed again, leaning his head back languidly. “You’re really not going to let me off the hook without explaining myself, are you?”

Onoda didn’t reply, waiting expectantly for him to continue and Makishima chuckled in genuine amusement. “Seems like it. Oh well, it’s not like I dislike that in a Seeker… stubbornness, that is.”

“But….”

“Why you were made Seeker, well… to start with, we weren’t planning on holding Seeker tryouts in the first place this year,” Makishima said, and Onoda ceased his protests. “You probably noticed that we kind of just sorted all of our prospective members into Chasers and Beaters at the tryouts, and the reason for that was because they already had every other position filled. Including Seeker actually, which belonged to me.”

Onoda looked at Makishima, surprised. “But that means… you didn’t… did you give up your position on the team for me?” he asked with a sense of dawning horror.

“Hey, it isn’t as big a deal as it sounds, I promise,” Makishima said, raising his hands in supplication and making calming gestures, as if Onoda was an easily-agitated small animal. “I was only ever supposed to be a placeholder Seeker until we managed to find someone else to do it, anyway. The only problem is that finding a good Seeker is usually something like trying to pick the single frog out of a barrel full of toads while blindfolded and riding the Knight Bus, so in my case, the rest of the team decided to keep me in the Seeker position on a semi-permanent basis since I’m not terrible at it and it saves everyone the trouble of looking for a new one.”

“I still don’t really understand what you’re saying,” Onoda said slowly. “I’ve watched you fly before, and you’re amazing! With you as Seeker already, there’s no reason why--”

“Why? Don’t you see, Sakamichi, the truth is I’m being a little bit selfish here,” Makishima said as an almost rueful expression appeared on his face. “I started out as a Chaser, and I’d prefer that over being a Seeker any day. I watched you fly and I figured you had potential, so I told the rest of the team that if they chose one new Chaser and made you Seeker instead of choosing two new Chasers then I would be happy to take my old Chaser position back and show the new Seeker the ropes while I was at it.”

Onoda blinked.

“So really Sakamichi, you don’t have to worry about ‘stealing’ my position from me or anything-- you’re doing me a favour just by being here, actually,” Makishima continued. “I was supposed to stay Seeker until someone better than me came along, and at risk of sounding vain, that might have taken a long time. I don’t know you very well yet, but I think I like you. As I said before, you’re stubborn-- stubborn with not half-bad reflexes, which is a good combination in my eyes. If you’re determined to be on this team, then I’ll try my best to make you a Seeker that even Jinpachi Toudou will have no choice but to to take seriously.”

Onoda had no idea what to say, struck by just how lucky he was to have someone like Makishima willing to give him a chance when no one else would.

Makishima was just so cool.

“Thank you so much for everything you’ve done for me,” Onoda said, clenching his fists on his lap. “I can’t even think of a way to thank you--”

“Thank me by helping us win,” Makishima said simply, looking a bit embarrassed at his speech now that he had finished explaining himself. “Work hard and don’t give us a reason to regret putting you on the team, and we won’t regret it.”

“I will! Thank-you Makishima, sir!”

“Again with the sirs,” Makishima muttered mostly to himself as he pushed his green bangs away from his face as if in exasperation, although he appeared to be smiling slightly.

It seemed as if, despite Makishima’s initially intimidating appearance, he was in reality a remarkably kind person. Onoda suspected that they would actually get along quite well.

“Yo, Yuusuke!”

Makishima and Onoda both looked up, and Onoda almost immediately averted his eyes when he saw Arakita approaching their spot on the bench.

Makishima merely raised a hand in a half-wave. “Yasutomo,” he acknowledged. “What’s new?”

Arakita shrugged, tossing his bag carelessly onto the bench. His broom, oddly, he set down with more care than Onoda would have thought him capable of before he himself took a seat on Makishima’s other side. “Not much, mostly the same crap as usual. Juichi’s just been telling me that Slytherin team has managed to pull together a killer starting lineup this year.”

“Really? He said that?” Makishima asked with a smile nothing like the one he had given Onoda earlier.

“Not in so many words,” Arakita said, bristling. “Shut up. You know exactly what I meant.”

Makishima shrugged, surprisingly unbothered in the face of Arakita’s irritation. “Okay, okay. So what did he actually say? ‘We are strong’ or some other version of those same three words?”

Arakita grimaced and nodded, as if pained to admit it. “That fucking stone-face.”

Makishima chuckled, and Arakita noticed Onoda sitting there for the first time. Onoda immediately quailed under his sharp and scrutinizing gaze.

“So four-eyes is here already too,” he drawled unpleasantly. “I’ll only warn you once, there’s no way I’m tagging along after some half-assed runt who doesn’t know what he’s doing, no matter what that human grindylow over there might have told you. First match is barely a month from now, so you’d better be ready to prove yourself a fast fucking learner.”

Onoda swallowed, desperate to look anywhere other than at the other boy in front of him.

“Take it easy, Arakita,” Makishima said, surprising Onoda and Arakita both with his quick defense of Onoda. “A month is plenty of time to learn, and he’s not bad already. He’ll be fine.”

“Tch,” Arakita clicked his tongue distastefully before turning back to Makishima. “He’d better be. I couldn’t look Juichi in the face for a solid month after last year’s Hufflepuff versus Slytherin match, and then Jinpachi….”

“He’s insufferable,” Makishima said grimly.

“Yeah, insufferable, that’s the word for it. And he was even more insufferable than ever after that match, fuck. He kept on going on about how I must be suffering from ‘loser’s lurgy’ to make my face stick like this and… ugh I hate that pretentious little twit.”

“And that was why you found it necessary to try to beat him to death with an astrolabe, I take it?”

“He had it coming,” Arakita insisted, then raised an eyebrow inquiringly-- accusingly-- at Makishima. “You know, he’s going to be pissed when he finds out you’re playing as a Seeker anymore. The guy is weirdly obsessed with your little competitions.”

Makishima shrugged. “I’m aware.”

“And what exactly are you planning to do when he finds out?”

“I figured I’d send a tearful note written in my own blood,” Makishima said blithely. “Seriously though, Jinpachi will just need to accept that my life and the position I play in Quidditch don’t revolve entirely around his whims, regardless of who his parents are. Just because he thinks we’re ‘fated rivals’ doesn’t mean I have to play along with it.”

“Try explaining that to him,” Arakita said sharply. “No, really I mean it-- actually explain it to him so maybe he’ll stop hanging around our table at mealtimes and lurking outside our common room in the evenings. It’s fucking creepy is what it is.”

Makishima’s eye twitched, and Onoda got the impression that something that Arakita had just said had finally succeeded in rubbing him the wrong way. “I’ll do my best,” Makishima said stiffly. “And if that fails, you could always try snapping at his heels a bit. I hear you’re pretty good at that.”

Arakita’s mouth twisted in a grimace. “Your sense of humour is every bit as warped as it was last year. Whatever, all I’m saying is deal with it, because I for one don’t want our steps to be dogged by a mournful Jinpachi Toudou for the rest of our lives.”

“Dogged?” Makishima repeated amusedly, only to be silenced by a glare.

“Ha ha, very funny,” Arakita said in apparent disgust. “I had forgotten just how much I hate your jokes, holy fuck.”

Makishima hummed in response, picking at a small rip in the knee of his trousers. “Well, at least you recognize them as jokes.”

“Hn. True enough.”

Based on the interactions Onoda had observed so far, he found that he honestly couldn’t tell whether Makishima and Arakita actually got along well or not.

Before long, the rest of the team began to show up. Miki, when she arrived, noticed Onoda sitting on the bench and gave him a small wave and a bright smile, which Onoda had shyly returned. The other members of the team had cast him a few curious glances, but hadn’t seemed willing to go out of their way to engage him in conversation.

It was probably just as well, since he would have inevitably ended up embarrassing himself if any of them had.

There were brief, informal introductions once everyone had arrived, and after that the practice began in earnest. Surprisingly, they began with a team Quaffle-passing drill similar to the one Arakita had had Onoda and the other new applicants do during tryouts, which everyone had to do, not just the Chasers. Onoda tried his best to keep up, but he had certainly not improved from the previous week’s attempt. The best he could do was avoid making eye contact with Arakita for the duration of the drill and make sure his position in the group remained as far away from the sour-looking boy at all times.

Practice got a little better after that, since once they had finished warming up as a team they broke off into smaller groups based on the positions they were training for. Miki had gone with Izumida to work on their batting, while Onoda was to be trained by Makishima for the Seeker position.

It turned out that there was little else he actually needed to learn beyond what he already had.

“I don’t know really know how to put this, Sakamichi, but Seeker is a really weird position,” Makishima said eventually, scratching his head, clearly having trouble finding the best way to explain what he meant. “You don’t really have to cooperate with the rest of the team when you’re the Seeker, so there aren’t any specific rules or strategies you need to familiarize yourself with beyond the basics-- that is, don’t try to kill anyone.”

“Ah…” Onoda said. “Okay?”

“So yeah, basically being a Seeker is just about using your instincts. If you see the Snitch or the other Seeker trying to catch the Snitch, go for it,” Makishima said. “Unless we happen to be losing by more than 150 points, in which case don’t catch the Snitch, because then the game will be over and we’ll still lose.”

“Got it,” Onoda said determinedly. “So keep the score in mind when I’m looking for the Snitch.”

“Exactly,” Makishima said, nodding. “We can use our practices to help hone your reflexes and give you some more flying experience, but other than that, I don’t have much else to teach you. Seekers tend to be born and not made.”

Onoda must have looked worried at that, because Makishima offered what he probably intended to be a reassuring grin. “I’m sure you’ll do fine, Sakamichi. I know it’s hard to be confident when you’re new at something, but I wouldn’t have offered to work with you if I didn’t think you had potential.”

Maybe it was just because he was already feeling a bit overwhelmed by the first practice, but Onoda caught himself wondering for the first time how true that actually was. He didn’t like to doubt Makishima, especially after he had been so kind to him, but it occurred to him that it was possible that Makishima had just wanted to pass off the Seeker position on someone else so he could go back to being a Chaser, and that it hadn’t really mattered who the new Seeker was at all.

When Onoda looked back at Makishima, however, who was watching him with such a cautiously hopeful expression on his face, he immediately felt guilty.

Who was he to judge Makishima’s motivations? It wasn’t like Onoda’s own drive to win was particularly pure-- he had selfish reasons for wanting to be on the team, too.

Onoda had gotten exactly what he wanted, so he really had no room to complain.

***

Practice was brought to an end by the arrival of the Gryffindor Quidditch team later in the afternoon.

“Hey, Sakamichi!” Naruko exclaimed once Onoda had safely landed, bouncing up to him. He was already wearing his practice robes, the scarlet colour blending in almost perfectly with his hair and the excited flush in his cheeks. “How was practice?”

“Oh. It was… good, I guess,” Onoda said, fiddling awkwardly with the bristles on his broom. Normally he would be happy to talk to Naruko, but the other Hufflepuff players were packing up their things back at the bench and he found himself feeling slightly worried that he’d get in trouble for not offering to help.

“Just good?” Naruko asked in disbelief. “C’mon, Sakamichi, it was your first-ever real Quidditch practice, didn’t you-- oh wait, now I get it!” Naruko said suddenly, snapping his fingers as if in realization and casting a shrewd glance in Onoda’s direction. “Already getting all secretive about your team’s strategies around the enemy, huhhh? Y’know, that’s pretty sneaky of you, Sakamichi….”

“It’s really not that, though,” Onoda protested weakly. “We were really just--”

“Wait! Nonono I can’t be hearing this!” Naruko said in a horrified voice, plugging his ears quickly. “We’ve got to have a fair fight, Sakamichi, otherwise there’s no point! You can’t just go giving me an unfair advantage like that!”

“What the… there you are, you useless little bean, what the hell are you standing around for? The rest of the team is already gathering on the far side.”

Onoda raised his eyes over Naruko’s shoulder to take in the appearance of the newcomer...

… and then he raised his eyes some more.

The boy who had just approached them was probably about Makishima’s age, but he was huge in pretty much every way it was possible for someone to be huge. He was tall, fat, and had intimidating-looking muscles on his arms that looked to be wider around than Onoda’s neck was. He was also evidently not particularly pleased at that exact moment, judging by the sound of slowly grinding teeth and the impatient look on his face as he attempted to stare an oblivious Naruko down.

“Well?” the large boy prompted as he crossed his arms impatiently, clearly waiting for a reaction.

“H-he’s, uh….” Onoda said tentatively, attempting to explain with a tongue that didn’t seem willing to cooperate. “Um… ears,” he managed lamely, gesturing helpfully at his own temples.

Miraculously, the boy must have understood Onoda’s obscure attempt to explain Naruko’s lack of reaction, because he rolled his eyes and approached them, grabbing Naruko’s wrists and unceremoniously yanking his hands away from his ears.

“Hey-- ouch, what the hell?” Naruko snarled, whipping around to see who had grabbed him. Onoda half expected Naruko’s face to pale when he saw the older boy glaring behind him, but instead, his friend merely glared and aimed a vicious-- and easily avoided-- kick toward his captor’s shin. “Let me go, you stupid old man--I was in the middle of a conversation!”

“A conversation with your ears plugged, I’m sure it was very important,” the boy said drily, not relinquishing his grip on the readhead or even seeming particularly inconvenienced by his struggling. “You can continue it later, kid, right now it’s time for your friend to leave and you to come sit in on the bench with the rest of us like a good little-- holy mother of god!”

Onoda wasn’t entirely sure if it was the word ‘little’ that had set him off or not, but whatever the reason Naruko chose that exact moment to rear up and sink his sharp teeth into the older boy’s hand, causing him to loosen his grip enough to allow him to finally squirm free.

Naruko retreated to what he clearly believed to be a safe distance and stuck out his tongue, pulling down his lower eyelid mockingly. “Nahhh, that’s what you get for trying to hold the great Shoukichi Naruko down, pea-brain.”

The other boy was silent for several long seconds, cradling the hand Naruko had bitten. Eventually, though, he raised his head, and his face was set in an utterly terrifying expression. “You’re dead, little bean.”

Naruko’s smug expression morphed into a scowl. “Who’re you calling a-- oh shit.”

A look of surprise overtook Naruko’s features as Tadokoro began running full-tilt towards him, his speed alarmingly fast for someone his size. Onoda suspected that the experience of seeing that sight coming at you was probably something like standing in front of an oncoming train, and he was both simultaneously thankful that he wasn’t in Naruko’s position and fearful on his friend’s behalf.

Needless to say, Naruko ran like his life depended on it, although he was cackling uproariously as he did so.

“See you, Sakamichi!” Naruko called out over his shoulder as he sprinted away across the Quidditch pitch, probably nowhere near worried enough about the fact that his irate teammate was hot on his tail. “Meet you in the Great Hall later?”

“That’s assuming there’ll be anything left of you for him to see later!” the other boy shouted in response.

“As if, you giant slowpoke!”

“You can’t run away forever, runt!”

“Sorry, what was that? I couldn’t hear over the sound of you gasping for breath like an old man trying to climb stairs!”

“For fuck’s sake-- I’m not that old!”

Despite the fact that he was hesitant to leave Naruko alone to his fate, Onoda understood from the way the rest of the red-clad Gryffindor team was looking over in his direction with suspicion that he had overstayed his welcome. It made sense, of course-- it was their practice time time now, Naruko and the other boy’s (fight? Race?) notwithstanding, and Onoda knew from his discussions with Imaizumi and Naruko that Quidditch teams were often secretive about their practices. They probably wouldn’t begin until they were sure Onoda was gone.

So he decided it would probably be in his best interests to take a hint and leave.

Ideally, the plan was for Onoda to make it back to the castle without having to confront any more intimidating older students, but fate was apparently not on his side that day. He exited the enclosure around the Quidditch pitch, noting as he did that the rest of his teammates were nowhere in sight-- they must have gone on without him.

Sighing, Onoda settled his Cleansweep more securely on his shoulder and prepared to begin the walk back up to the castle on his own. He hadn’t really expected them to wait for him, but he sort of wished that at least Miki (or even Makishima, his mind supplied helpfully) might have noticed and cared that he wasn’t there.

It wasn’t a big deal though, and chances were Imaizumi would be waiting for him in the Great Hall anyways.

It was fine.

As he stepped out, however, his presence was noticed by another person, who had been leaning against the back of the spectator stands as if waiting for someone. Onoda didn’t recognize the boy so he prepared to walk past him as quickly as he could without making it look like he was running away, avoiding eye contact with a single-minded determination.

Unfortunately, the boy had other plans.

“Hey, wait a second…”

Suddenly, the other boy was in front of Onoda, blocking his way. He peered into Onoda’s face, his cool eyes lighting up with recognition. “Ah-HAH!” he exclaimed, pointing his index finger barely an inch away from Onoda’s nose. “I know who you are!”

Onoda took a single cautious step back. “R-really? I mean, I don’t….”

A horrible thought occurred to him, and he took another look at the older student.

The boy wasn’t anyone that Onoda had ever met before, but despite this, he realized that he did know who he was. He recognized the glossy dark hair that was held away from the boy’s chiseled features with a white headband despite the fact that it was usually windswept and tangled whenever Onoda had seen it in the past-- and only ever seen from a distance. He was also wearing his regular Hogwarts robes instead of his emerald green team colours, but he was still easily recognizable as Jinpachi Toudou, the star Seeker of the Slytherin Quidditch team.

He was also looking at Onoda like he was something he had just scraped off the bottom of his shoe.

“You’re that second-year-- Maki-Maki’s new project,” he added distastefully, crossing his arms over his chest, a stubborn expression on his face. “Well? What do you have to say for yourself?”

Onoda blinked. “I don’t--”

“You do realize what you’re blundering in on, don’t you?” Toudou interrupted before Onoda had a chance to respond. “I mean, I’m not an idiot-- I know exactly what’s happening. I don’t know why Maki decided he had to go behind my back like this, but he should have at least known me well enough to know that there’s no way I wouldn’t hear about him foisting the Seeker’s position off on some bespectacled rookie,” Toudou said, a trace of a pout in his tone. “It’s not like this is just some little power-struggle between the two of us, and the implication that it is is, to be frank, actually a bit insulting. Wouldn’t you say so?” he demanded, whirling on Onoda unexpectedly.

Onoda jumped at the sudden question. “I, uh--”

“Ah, but I wouldn’t expect you to understand anything about that,” Toudou sighed, drawing back slightly as he flicked his bangs out of his eyes. “You’ve probably never even played a serious game of Quidditch before, after all. You don’t know what it feels like to push yourself to the limits against someone who’s actually worthy of seeing you give your best effort-- you couldn’t possibly comprehend what that sort of bond of rivalry feels like. I had been under the impression that Maki felt the same, of course, but… well, as I said before, this came as a bit of a blow.”

Onoda wasn’t entirely sure if Toudou was still trying to confront him for indirectly making Makishima quit being Seeker, or if he merely wanted someone to voice his complaints to.

“I don’t…” Onoda began, fully expecting to be interrupted again, but instead he instantly found himself the sole focus of Toudou’s pale eyes-- which, as it turned out, wasn’t a particularly comfortable place to be. He swallowed and forced himself to continue. “I don’t think Makishima intended to… offend you, Toudou, sir.”

Toudou’s eyes narrowed. “Well, I should hope not!” he said huffily. “But the end result is the same, isn’t it? He did offend me, and he did it by discarding our rivalry like last year’s History of Magic notes and implying that a scrawny, unfortunate little bug like you is all it takes to beat me. Can’t you see-- even a little-- why I’m upset?”

“I… guess?” Onoda said cautiously.

“Well, thank god for that, I don’t know what I’d do if you were completely inept-- I suppose I should be thankful that Maki at least thinks that highly of my abilities,” Toudou said, eyeing Onoda critically, “to not arrange a completely brainless opponent for me. But now the real question is… now that I’ve seen you, what exactly am I going to do with you?”

“M-me?” Onoda stuttered, dread growing in the pit of his stomach.

Oh god. He was dead. Toudou was obviously one of the Slytherins that he was supposed to be attempting to stay away from. Onoda had been stupid-- he had been tricked by Manami into thinking that Slytherin was just another house, and that the people who were members of that house were all mostly harmless and could even be befriended when given the chance.

Obviously, he’d been very wrong about that. And now he would have to pay the price for his foolishness.

“What’s your name, second year?” Toudou asked, mouth quirking up in the corners.

Onoda felt sick as he realized that it was probably Toudou deciding on what to do with him that had brought that smile to his face.

“It’s… O-onoda,” Onoda croaked out. His throat was painfully dry, but he was too afraid of what Toudou might do to make him speak to even consider not replying. “Sakamichi Onoda.”

“Well then, Sakamichi Onoda,” Toudou said, pointing at him again and this time throwing in a cold smile and arrogant head-tilt to complete the antagonistic image. “I suggest you prepare yourself for an utterly agonizing and humiliating defeat.”

Onoda expected Toudou to draw his wand to make good on that threat, but instead the Slytherin Seeker merely turned around and began walking briskly away. Once he was several
yards in front of Onoda, however, he halted in his steps and looked over his shoulder.

Onoda flinched, expecting the worst.

“Oh, and be sure to say hi to Maki-Maki for me!” Toudou said cheerfully, before shaking out his robes and continuing on his way once again, leaving Onoda unable to do anything but stare after him.

Onoda wasn’t entirely sure if it was more appropriate to fear for his life in this sort of situation, or to just admit to being very, very confused.

Chapter Text

Onoda spent the next several days worrying about what he would do if he ran into Toudou again in the corridors outside their classrooms or at the Great Hall during meals, but he was surprised to find that it seemed as if the other boy was keeping his distance. Onoda didn’t know if this was an intentional move on his part or not, but it was something he hadn’t expected--he wouldn’t have thought that Toudou was the sort of person to back down from something so quickly, especially something that affected him as much as Onoda’s placement on the Hufflepuff team apparently had.

He couldn’t say he wasn’t thankful for the reprieve, however. He had enough to worry about without having to constantly be on the lookout for a Slytherin fourth year attempting to get even with or sabotage him. Especially since, if Toudou were to demand an answer as to why Onoda thought he deserved to be the Hufflepuff Seeker more than Makishima, he wasn’t sure he’d be able to come up with an answer.

Onoda had voiced some of his concerns to Imaizumi while they had been walking to Transfiguration the Tuesday following Onoda’s first Quidditch practice, although he had deliberately neglected to mention Toudou in his description of what was happening. He felt slightly guilty about deliberately hiding information especially since he seemed to be making a habit of it lately, but he didn’t want to bother Imaizumi unnecessarily. It wasn’t like Onoda was actually being bullied-- not really-- and he didn’t want to make it seem like he was making a big deal over nothing, either. Toudou hadn’t done anything beyond making a single, somewhat vague threat and he seemed to be satisfied with leaving it at that for the time being, so there was no need to go borrowing trouble where there wasn’t any.

“Shunsuke?” Onoda asked, “Could I ask you something?”

“Hmm?” Imaizumi said, glance snapping briefly to Onoda before returning to the corridor ahead of him. “Yes, of course. Go ahead.”

“Ah, okay, I was just wondering...” Onoda began, awkwardly fidgeting with the strap of his bag as he tried to pull his thoughts together. “Have you ever… gotten something that you really wanted, but felt really bad about it after?”

Imaizumi was silent, and Onoda chewed his lip nervously. Deciding that maybe he hadn’t made what he was asking clear enough, he continued. “It’s like… having it should be enough to make you happy, and you know that it should be, but when you finally do get it you can’t really feel as happy as you should…. maybe because deep down you know you don’t deserve it?”

Several long moments passed, and the two of them continued on their way down the corridor. Eventually, Imaizumi sighed, looking perplexed and-- more surprisingly--maybe even a little angry. “This is about you and the Quidditch team, isn’t it?”

Onoda didn’t respond, but it didn’t really matter because he obviously took Onoda’s silence as an affirmative.

“I thought so-- you’ve been quiet lately, and to be honest I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t expected this,” Imaizumi said, although the annoyance was tinged with weariness. “You don’t think you’re good enough. Is that right?”

Onoda opened his mouth to reply, but couldn’t bring himself to actually say anything. He closed his mouth again and simply nodded.

“I don’t know what to say to you then, Sakamichi. I’m sorry,” Imaizumi said, and although his words were characteristically blunt, his tone was sympathetic. “Would you honestly believe me if I reassured you? If I told you that I think you’re more than good enough to be Hufflepuff’s Seeker and that any evidence you think you have otherwise is all in your head?”

Onoda looked away determinedly. “... No, I don’t think I would,” he said.

“I didn’t think so, either,” Imaizumi said flatly. “You’ve probably already been told the same thing by Naruko, Miki and Yuusuke Makishima, so I doubt me saying it would make any difference to you, whether I personally believed it to be true or not.”

“But then… do you think I’m making a mistake, Shunsuke?” Onoda asked, trying and failing to keep the anxiousness from his voice. “What if I really don’t deserve to be on the team? What if I’m just being… just being selfish and keeping the Seeker position away from someone more talented?”

Imaizumi silenced his protests with a sharp look. “Your team made their decision, and you’re not responsible for it,” he said. “But it’ll be up to you to decide whether you’re making a mistake or not by accepting the position. No one else is qualified to judge that.”

“Oh…” Onoda said, briefly taken aback by the seriousness of his tone. “Okay, I guess,” he said, not sure what else he could say to that.

Imaizumi sighed upon seeing Onoda’s obviously downcast expression. “Sorry, that was probably not the response you were hoping for,” he said, looking almost regretful. After a brief pause, however, he tentatively offered, “If it helps though… my answer is ‘yes.’”

“Yes to what?” Onoda asked, confused by the sudden change in topic.

Imaizumi smiled, but there was an almost rueful twist to it. “I was just answering your first question. I have gotten something good before that I don’t think I deserved… a lot of things, actually.”

“Really?” Onoda asked curiously. “Which things would those be?”

“Well...” Imaizumi said, obviously stalling, and Onoda took this as a sign that he wasn’t intending to continue, but surprisingly he did. “I’d say pretty much everything I have right now that’s worth having I don’t deserve on some level.”

Mystified by Imaizumi’s seemingly cryptic answer, Onoda hurriedly put in, “I’m sure you’re just being too hard on yourself-- you’re so kind, and you’re smart and talented-- I don’t think it’s selfish of you to want to keep… whatever it is that you have.”

Imaizumi snorted, although he didn’t smile. “Sorry, I’m just appreciating the irony of you telling me I’m too hard on myself. And I appreciate the thought, Onoda, but you don’t have to try to make me feel better. I know exactly how selfish I can be, and I hope you can understand that it’s not something I’m exactly proud of.”

Onoda understood.

He wondered if Imaizumi was aware of just how much Onoda understood.

It was Onoda’s personal brand of selfishness that made him want to keep the Seeker position despite the fact that Arakita-- his own teammate--clearly didn’t like him or want him on the team, and the fact that one of the opposing Seekers had already made it his personal mission to bring about Onoda’s downfall.

Then there was the selfishness that manifested itself in the nasty feeling in the pit of his stomach whenever he saw Manami’s retreating back as he raced off after class, or when he imagined the person who clearly occupied the majority of Manami’s thoughts as of late.

It was an ugly feeling, and he knew his jealousy was unwarranted, which only made it worse.

“I just want to do the right thing,” Onoda said, unsure if he was trying to convince Imaizumi or himself.

“Of course,” Imaizumi said, as if he'd expected nothing else. “I’m sure you’ll figure out what that is before long.”

***

The day of the Hufflepuff versus Gryffindor match dawned bright and cloudless-- not ideal conditions for Quidditch, as too much glare from the sun made spotting the Snitch difficult, but not the worst they could have been for a match either.

At least, this was what Makishima had told Onoda as he handed him his Quidditch robes that morning, and Onoda didn’t have any of his own experiences to counter or support the claim, so he could only accept it as fact.

The change room was small and crowded, and despite the quiet chatter and seemingly upbeat atmosphere some of the members of the Hufflepuff team seemed to be putting an effort into maintaining, there was a pervasive undercurrent of tension throughout the room. Not even the older, more experienced members of the team seemed to be immune-- Arakita in particular was downright waspish, while Makishima’s face was pale and terse whenever Onoda noticed him out of the corner of his eye.

Onoda, for one, was happy to follow Makishima’s example and not speak to anyone, mostly because he was afraid that he might throw up the second he opened his mouth. He pulled his new robes on over his head, only fumbling slightly with the sleeves as he slid into the unfamiliar garment. Once he had managed that much on his own, he glanced furtively around the room as he fumbled with the laces that secured the front of the robe closed, attempting to gauge whether or not he’d put them on correctly.

“You don’t need to do anything with those,” a voice coming from somewhere very near to him said, and Onoda whipped around in surprise to see Miki’s beaming face barely an inch away from his. He stumbled backwards, careening into Makishima, who made a small noise of surprise as he was knocked off balance.

“Hey, easy there,” Makishima said once he’d righted himself again, steadying Onoda with a hand on both of his shoulders. “You don’t want to injure yourself before the match even begins, do you?”

Rather than pondering on the implication that it was likely that he would be injured after the match began, Onoda turned to Miki and managed (in a voice that only squeaked a little), “Sorry… I don’t need to do what?”

“You don’t need to re-tie those,” Miki said, pointing at the laces that Onoda had been fiddling with. “They’re already done for you, and they’re pretty much just decoration anyways. Have you got your gloves and arm guards figured out yet, though? Those are the important part.”

“Uh… no,” Onoda admitted, casting a dubious look at the bundle of what appeared to be miscellaneous leather pieces that was sitting on the bench next to where he was standing. “Is that… what that is?”

“Here, I’ll help you out,” Miki said eagerly, grabbing the piece from the top of the pile. Onoda noticed that she seemed to be already wearing hers, if that was indeed what the armpieces were supposed to look like on a person instead of in a messy heap. “It’s simple enough to figure out after awhile, but having an extra hand can help at first. You just pull on the glove part like so,” she said, tugging Onoda’s left hand into the space intended for it, “and then once it feels like it’s on all the way, you can buckle the arm guard so it’s snug-- not too tight, though, you don’t want to cut off circulation to your fingers.”

Onoda tried to do as she said, but despite his best efforts, he had little success in actually doing any of the straps up.

His face heated up in humiliation-- on top of everything else, he was now apparently incapable of dressing himself-- but Miki didn’t seem too concerned. She just plucked the straps out of Onoda’s fumbling hands and set about doing them herself.

“This is what I meant when I said having an extra hand can make it easier,” Miki said, her smile just a bit gentler now than it had been before as she expertly cinched the guard along the length of his arm. “It took me forever to be able to do this on my own-- I used to get Tooji to help me out all the time. It just takes a bit of practice, is all.”

She did his other arm next, and when she was finished she took a step back and looked him over appraisingly. “How does that feel?”

Onoda flexed his fingers experimentally, the stiff leather squeaking in protest of the unfamiliar motion. “Uh, good?” Onod said. “If you don’t mind me asking, though, why do I need these? The only ball I need to worry about is the Snitch, and that’s too small to do any real… damage, isn’t it?”

“It’s a precaution,” Miki said brightly. “Just because the Chasers and Beaters won’t be aiming directly at you doesn’t mean you won’t sometimes get in between them and their actual targets. If you’re chasing the Snitch when that happens and your arm is outstretched when there’s a Bludger flying at it, well-- it’s a small protection but it’s better than nothing. Everyone on the team wears them.”

“Oh,” Onoda said, swallowing nervously.

Miki patted his shoulder firmly, dispelling the uncomfortable silence that had briefly fallen. “Well, Sakamichi, you definitely look the part of a Seeker now! The rest is up to you.”

“I, uh….” he looked away, embarrassed, and there were several good-natured chuckles from the players around him who had been watching the exchange.

He wondered if anyone else realized just how far out of his depth he was.

Once they had exited the change rooms and entered the Quidditch Pitch, Onoda was immediately overwhelmed by the sight of the stands packed with people, who all roared in response to the appearance of the Quidditch teams until the air rang with their cheers and applause.

Somewhere up in those stands, Imaizumi was watching. Maybe Manami was somewhere up there too, and maybe he’d even be cheering for Onoda.

Onoda swallowed, following his teammates into the center of the field in a daze until he was jolted back to his senses by a sudden “Sakamichi!” in front of him.

The person who had shouted for him was unmistakable, even though Onoda had never seen him wearing the bright scarlet of Gryffindor’s Quidditch robes before that day. There was no denying that the look suited him, however.

“You doing okay?” Naruko asked, clasping Onoda’s hand in both his own in a childish gesture, likely born of an excess of adrenaline and a general lack of self-awareness. “Don’t be too nervous, Sakamichi, you’re going to be great, I promise!”

Onoda wasn’t sure Naruko was in a position where he could promise something like that, but, as always, he couldn’t help but feel just a bit reassured by Naruko’s absolute faith in him. Onoda even managed a small smile as he replied with, “Are you sure you should be saying that? We are playing against each other this time, you know.”

Naruko made an inconsequential noise. “Pfff, like that even matters-- we’re friends, and friends come first, even when there’s Quidditch involved. I just wanted to wish you luck,” he said, holding up a fist in front of him.

Onoda frowned. “What are you doing?”

“Don’t you know what a fistbump is?” Naruko asked in disbelief. “Of course not, what was I thinking-- okay, you make a fist… good… and then you kind of just… bump it,” he said, tapping his fist lightly against Onoda’s. “Got it?”

“I think so?” Onoda said, looking at his own closed fist like it could answer his questions. “What I don’t understand is why.”

“Ohhhhh, that’s all?” Naruko said, cracking a grin at him. “That’s easy, I was just giving you some of my spirit to help you out.”

“Your spirit?”

“Yeah,” Naruko said brightly. “You looked worried, and I figured I had more than enough courage of my own to spare, so I thought maybe you’d like to borrow some. Just a bit, though-- this is strong stuff, you hear?”

“Oh,” Onoda said, honestly feeling a little bit touched by the gesture. “Thank-you, then, Shoukichi. I’m… I’m really happy that we have this chance to play Quidditch together. I just wish….”

We could be playing on the same team was never uttered, but Naruko seemed to understand anyways, because he clapped Onoda on the shoulder reassuringly.

“Don’t worry, Quidditch isn’t that scary!” he said. “You’ll do fine, and--”

Onoda suddenly became embarrassingly aware of just where and when this exchange was taking place when Kanzaki’s magically amplified voice broke into their conversation, announcing in a distinctly pointed tone that, “We’ll begin the match any time now, once Gryffindor’s Chaser decides to return to his own side of the pitch--”

The big Gryffindor boy who Onoda had briefly encountered after his first practice with Hufflepuff stomped up and snagged the back collar of Naruko’s robes before dragging him back toward the rest of the Gryffindor team.

“Okay, okay-- I’m going!” Naruko complained, struggling against his tightening neckline. “Let me go you stupid bear!”

Tadokoro chose to ignore him, instead casting an apologetic look at Kanzaki as he shoved Naruko back into position. “Sorry about that. Please continue.”

Although Kanzaki’s expression was strict, Onoda thought he saw a twitch in the corner of his mouth. “Thank-you, Tadokoro. As I was saying before, I expect a good, clean game out of everyone today.”

Kanzaki leaned over and flipped open the lid of a familiar-looking large wooden trunk and fiddled around with something inside. A moment later, something tiny and golden flitted out, disappearing somewhere over Kanzaki’s shoulder too quickly for Onoda’s eyes to possibly follow. The Snitch had been released.

“Captains, shake hands.”

Onoda’s team captain and the Gryffindor captain met in the center and shook hands once, respectfully, before returning to their places on the field. Once the middle space was free again, Makishima and a Gryffindor player, a slender boy with wavy dark hair approached it from either side. Onoda knew enough to recognize that these were the starting Chasers, the ones who would compete for first possession of the Quaffle.

Although he had witnessed the start of a Quidditch match several times before, this was his first time seeing one from the position of a player rather than that of a distant spectator up in the stands. Just thinking about how many people were watching him and depending on him to win was enough to kick his pulse into overdrive, and he felt slightly sick.

Kanzaki turned his attention back to the trunk and freed the Bludgers next, ducking away to avoid being hit and they flew out and began circling the pitch. And then, finally, once the Bludgers were well out of the way, Kanzaki took out the Quaffle and brought it to the center. There was a strange, expectant stillness about the players as Kanzaki lifted the ball in one hand and raised his whistle to his lips with the other, Makishima and the Gryffindor Chaser both poised intently, ready to try to take the Quaffle the moment the whistle sounded.

And then the Quaffle was thrown high into the air, the sound of the whistle blared through the still air of the Quidditch Pitch, and the match began.

The sudden onslaught of motion was just as chaotic as Onoda remembered it, with the Quaffle quickly being claimed by Makishima as the two teams kicked off the ground and scattered. The Quaffle changed several times in quick succession, the Beaters performing with the brutal efficiency that had Onoda quickly backing away to watch the game from a safer distance as Naruko scooped up the Quaffle with a triumphant shout.

Miki caught Naruko with a particularly well-aimed shot to the shoulder that broke his grip on the ball, and he dropped it with a curse. Arakita, who had been anticipating this was quick to gather the Quaffle up in his own arms and took off toward the Gryffindor goal. He was quickly set upon by the other two Gryffindor Chasers, who stuck close to him but kept enough distance to allow their Beaters a clear shot, if the opportunity arose.

And the opportunity did apparently arise several moments later, judging by the Bludger that powered into the back of Arakita’s neck, knocking him off-balance long enough for the wavy-haired Gryffindor Chaser to snatch the Quaffle out of his grasp. The Chaser threw it over to his teammate, throwing off the players who had been converging on his location to attempt to take it back. Onoda could have sworn he aimed a small, mocking salute at Arakita before he followed the other Chaser down the pitch, and Arakita likely thought the same thing, judging by his ensuing snarl.

It was strange being Seeker, Onoda decided as he watched the game progress from his vantage point just above the thick of the action. Although he was playing in this match, for the most part there was nothing he could do except watch the match, scan the field every so often for any glimpse of the Snitch, and keep an eye on the other Seeker just in case they spotted it before he did. While he had to be poised and ready to act, however, he was isolated from the majority of the game.

And Imaizumi had been right-- for many people, being a Seeker would probably be unspeakably frustrating and boring. Despite this, Onoda found himself feeling especially thankful to be kept apart from the thick of things the fourth time he witnessed Naruko being struck by a Bludger, righting himself seconds later only to lose the Quaffle again. Naruko’s making sense of what happened in his brief period of distraction was usually accompanied by a significant amount of hissing and spitting, which Onoda thought made it even more apparent that this was his first real Quidditch match.

Not to say that Naruko was doing particularly badly. He seemed to be getting better at evading the Bludgers as time went on, but he was still rough around the edges and there was certainly room for improvement. In contrast, the other Chasers on his team seemed to move in almost perfect unison, anticipating each others’ movements like it was second nature to them. It was almost uncanny.

Uncanny or not, however, there could be no denying that Gryffindor’s methods were effective. Between their quick and adaptable Chasers and equally ferocious Beaters, Gryffindor allowed very few shots on their own goals. It wasn’t long before Gryffindor was leading 40-10, and it seemed as if Hufflepuff’s chances of victory were getting smaller and smaller.

At least, unless Onoda caught the Snitch. If he managed to do that, their current point difference would very quickly become meaningless in the face of the 150 points Onoda would earn for his team. They could very easily win the game provided Onoda managed to carry out this one simple task.

His grip tightened on the handle of his broom.

He still felt nervous, so nervous that his insides seemed to be doing somersaults, but lingering on the edges of it was a solid wall of resolve. Makishima had put his faith in him and Miki had taught him how to put on his arm guards, and even before that, Manami had shown him just a bit of what it meant to love flying.

He didn’t want to disappoint anyone, so he would do his best to win this match for himself and his team and maybe finally, finally have an answer as to whether or not he deserved this position and the trust he had been given.

He wasn’t sure if it was several seconds or several minutes later that he finally spotted a flash of gold out of the corner of his eye, but when he spotted it, he didn’t even think. Instinct took over, and Onoda gripped his broom and leaned in, urging his broom forward.

The Snitch was darting around near the foot of the spectator stands on the Gryffindor end of the pitch, which wasn’t particularly far away from him, but wasn’t close, either. He thought he might stand a chance, though, if he could just get over to that side without being noticed--

His view of the Snitch’s faint glimmer was blocked by a Gryffindor player appearing right in front of him. Worse than that, Onoda realized, it was the opposing Seeker, who had evidently caught on the the Snitch’s location as well, whether it just happened to be around the same time as Onoda did or because he did, Onoda wasn’t sure.

It didn’t matter now, though-- all that mattered was getting the Snitch before the other boy could.

The Gryffindor Seeker briefly glanced over his shoulder at Onoda before he sped up, and Onoda leaned even further forward to increase his own speed, keeping as close behind as possible while attempting to keep eye on the Snitch without being blocked. It was difficult, but he figured that his best chance was to bide his time and wait for the right opportunity to pull ahead of his opponent and take the Snitch for himself.

He had no idea if he was even capable of such a thing, but he couldn’t give up. Not now.

The Snitch zipped away toward the Gryffindor goal, and the two Seekers followed. Onoda was briefly struck with a sense of deja vu as they approached the goalposts, remembering when it had been someone else flying in front of him, and how he had felt as if he could fly forever if it meant he could keep chasing that person even if there was an overwhelming chance that he could never truly be caught. Even if all he got was a smile thrown over a shoulder every once in awhile it would be okay, because--

Focus, he told himself, shaking off the image. He couldn’t let himself think about that now, or he wouldn’t stand a chance.

He focused on his goal, narrowed his field of vision until the tiny ball ahead of him, and took his chance. He put everything he had into making his broom go faster, managing to inch past his opponent and bring himself those crucial inches closer to the Snitch.

Steady, steady.

He was so close. The tiny gold ball was just beyond his grasp, but every second brought him closer, closer, until it was nearly within arm’s reach. He extended his arm in preparation, stretched out his fingers--

“Look out!” someone shouted, but it was too late.

Onoda felt a burst of pain on the side of his head and his vision temporarily whited out. His broom spun to a halt as he attempted to gain his bearings, blinking rapidly as his eyesight returned.

Or at least, until it returned in part. Even after the ringing in his ears had stopped, the whole world remained nothing more than a blur of colour.

He couldn’t see.

He was hovering some fifty feet in the air on a fragile broomstick and he couldn’t see.

The panic set in then and it overwhelmed him, making it difficult to breathe, but he tried his best to keep it under control long enough make sense of his situation. What had happened? Why couldn’t he see?

He clung to the broomstick with one hand and brought his other hand up to his face, becoming aware as he did so that he felt the absence of the familiar weight of his glasses on his nose. That was a likely explanation as to why he was having problems with his eyesight, but that only raised more questions-- how had he lost them? What had happened to him? Where was the Snitch now?

He received his answer scant seconds later, although he soon wished he hadn’t

“And the Gryffindor Seeker has caught the Snitch!” the announcer’s voice boomed across the stadium, and even in the midst of his panic Onoda felt his heart plummet. “Gryffindor receives 150 points and has won the match 190-20!

So, Onoda realized dazedly. That was it.

“Sakamichi!”

A pair of arms wrapped around Onoda and a familiar voice, was speaking too loudly in his ear. Even with his vision hopelessly blurry, it was easy to recognize Naruko. “Are you okay?” he asked. “Holy shit, don’t ever scare me like that again-- you just stopped moving after you got clipped by that Bludger, and…”

Naruko was babbling as Onoda clung reflexively to his arms, doing his utmost to bring the rapid pounding of his heart back under control. He wanted to just hang there, place himself in Naruko’s care and not think about anything or confront what had happened, but he forced himself to speak anyways.

“No, it… I’m not hurt,” Onoda said miserably, stomach clenching in disappointment and guilt. He almost wished he had been hurt, if only because it would have provided a more adequate excuse for his failure.

Clipped by a Bludger. That was apparently all it took for Onoda to lose his composure completely.

“I just… I must have lost my glasses,” he said. “I think the Bludger knocked them off, and then I-- I just panicked, I couldn’t see, and I was… I ruined everything, didn’t I?”

“Shhh, it’s okay, Sakamichi,” Naruko soothed, although there was a strained edge of alarm to his voice that wasn’t exactly comforting. “You didn’t do anything wrong, okay? We’ll find your glasses and… I don’t know, maybe we can explain to Kanzaki what happened? He has to understand that it wasn’t your fault, and then do you think he might reconsider--”

“It won’t do any good,” another voice said, signalling the arrival of someone new. The blur appeared to Onoda as a green blur set atop a yellow one, and even though Onoda’s mind was still spinning it was easy to recognize it as Makishima. “The match is over. There’s nothing we can do about it now.”

“But you won’t know if you don’t try!” Naruko protested, clutching Onoda more tightly against himself. “Sakamichi lost his glasses and couldn’t see-- he couldn’t have helped it!”

“I know, but it doesn’t matter,” Makishima said and Onoda felt something cold nudge up against his face. He opened his eyes and found that he could see again, and realized that Makishima must have found his glasses for him. “These things happen in Quidditch sometimes, and we just have to deal with it. A moment’s hesitation, a single slip-up can be the difference between winning and losing. We were just unlucky this time, that’s all.”

Onoda almost wished Makishima hadn’t given him back his glasses, because he found he really didn’t enjoy seeing Makishima’s carefully bland expression, or particularly want to see the disappointment of the yellow and black-clad Hufflepuff supporters in the stands below him. He didn’t want to have to see the faces of all the people he had just let down.

“This isn’t the way I wanted to win, though,” Naruko said, looking upset, and Onoda realized that this was something else he was responsible for-- Naruko’s team had just won their first match of the season, and instead of celebrating, his friend was stuck here, worrying over him.

“I’d imagine not, but a win is a win,” Makishima said, shrugging. “You’re Naruko, right? I think Jin was looking for you, so you should probably go back to your team now. I can look after Sakamichi.”

“But--”

“I promise he’ll be fine with me,” Makishima said, and although his words were reassuring enough they brooked no argument.

Naruko still looked torn, glancing between Onoda and Makishima like he didn’t trust Makishima alone with his friend in this state, but in the end he nodded and withdrew from Onoda, who quickly latched on to Makishima’s arm in his stead. Before Naruko left, though, he turned back toward them.

“I’ll see you later, Sakamichi, okay?” Naruko said one last time. “If you’re sure you’re alright?”

Haven’t you already caused everyone enough trouble? Onoda mentally berated himself. Out loud, he replied with what he thought was a passably honest-sounding “Yes, I’m fine.”

Naruko didn’t look completely convinced and he threw a suspicious look at Makishima, but he eventually nodded anyway. “I’ll catch up to you later, then.”

Onoda didn’t watch him go, if only because that would involve looking at the ground. Onoda hadn’t felt this terrified on a broom since that disastrous first flying lesson the previous year, when he had panicked and needed Naruko to help him get back down again. He’d thought that after all of his practice he would have finally left that feeling of helpless dizziness behind him, but apparently Onoda had changed less than he’d thought since then.

It was not a happy observation.

“Well, Sakamichi,” Makishima said, placing a tentative hand on Onoda’s shoulder like he wasn’t entirely sure how he should react to his teammate’s display. Onoda didn’t blame him-- he knew how much of an embarrassment he was. “The rest of the team will be meeting back in the change room to go over the match… we should be there, too. Are you ready to go down now?”

Despite the fact that he wanted nothing more than to feel solid ground under his feet again, he felt like he would be willing to spend the rest of his life in the air if it meant he could avoid having to face the teammates he’d let down.

Maybe Makishima sensed that, because he gave Onoda’s shoulder a small, awkward pat that was obviously meant to be comforting. “Come on, it won’t be too bad. You’ll feel better once you’re on the ground, right?”

Onoda somewhat doubted that, but he followed Makishima’s gentle urging into a slow descent anyways.

“Aren’t you… upset?” Onoda finally found the courage to ask once they had landed and were walking toward the change rooms together, brooms over their slumping shoulders. “About the match, I mean-- and the fact that we lost?”

Makishima gave a slightly strangled chuckle. “I must have a better poker face than I thought if you have to even ask that, Sakamichi,” he said, turning to face Onoda, allowing him to clearly see for the first time the helpless frustration that clouded his eyes and pulled at the corners of his mouth, and Onoda’s heart fell a bit at the sight. “Of course I’m upset we lost, but what’s done is done. All we can do now is make plans for what we should do next time, and hope that circumstances that are outside our control will allow us another shot at the Quidditch Cup this year.”

“Wait, what circumstances are you talking about?’” Onoda asked, hurrying to keep up with the older boy’s much longer strides. “What’s going to happen now?”

Makishima sighed, running his fingers through his hair thoughtfully. “Well… Gryffindor won today, so they’ll advance and face the next opponent-- it’ll be the winner of the Ravenclaw versus Slytherin match that’s coming up,” he explained offhandedly, looking as though he was running through possible scenarios in his head even as he spoke. His dubious expression did not exactly inspire confidence, however. “We’ll play the loser. If we’re lucky Gryffindor will lose their match and we’ll win ours, which will put us back in the running for the Cup. That’s our best… no, our only chance now.”

“Oh,” Onoda said, as another wave of guilt washed over him. All of this extra trouble was because of him, and now they’d have to beat either Imaizumi’s team or-- he shuddered-- Jinpachi Toudou himself just to have even the slightest chance of advancing.

“Don’t worry about it too much,” Makishima said, likely doing his best to sound reassuring. “Whatever happens happens, and all we can do is try our best to be better prepared next time.”

Onoda managed a single, weary nod, already mentally steeling himself to face the reactions of the rest of the team.

***

The rest of the Hufflepuff team had been kind.

Onoda knew this shouldn’t have surprised him too much-- Hufflepuffs had a reputation for being kind, so that much should have been expected when he entered the change room again, timidly following Makishima. They were still obviously disappointed, however, several of them appearing more openly upset than others as they ruffled Onoda’s hair and told him that it could have happened to anyone, and not to blame himself or let it get to him….

And Arakita hadn’t spoken a word to him, which Onoda supposed was also a kindness.

Their meeting was short, and covered mainly the same information that Onoda had already heard from Makishima about which games would have to be won and which would have to be lost in order to get Hufflepuff back into the running for the Quidditch Cup, as well as a brief overview of what each person could improve on for next time. Onoda felt like this part was mostly just a formality-- everyone, with the exception of him, had done their jobs well, but they seemed determined not to place the blame of the loss on him alone, despite the fact that he was the one who clearly deserved it.

Once the meeting was over and the team had dissipated, Onoda found himself at a loss as to what to do. He wasn’t sure where Imaizumi or Naruko had ended up and he didn’t have solid plans to meet them anywhere or at any specific time other than ‘later,’ so he found himself on his own with nothing to do for the first time in what seemed like forever.

Out of habit, his feet led him to the Great Hall, but instead of sitting at one of the tables and waiting for his friends (Naruko would only worry, he knew, and Imaizumi would stare him down with his far-too-clever eyes until he figured out exactly what Onoda was thinking), he made for the corridor that would take him back to the Hufflepuff common room. He had only taken a few steps, however, before he stopped, realizing that the common room would undoubtedly be full of more sympathetic well-wishers who would console him while he was looking and shoot accusing glances at him the moment he turned away.

It was a thoroughly unappealing option, but Onoda didn’t know where else to go, so he compromised by choosing a quieter part of the corridor and slumping into a seated position against the wall, bringing his knees up to his chest and burying his face in them. He did his best to ignore the strange looks he received from the few students who passed by. If he was lucky, none of them would recognize him, but would at least understand that he wanted to be left alone.

Sadly, luck was something that Onoda did not seem to have in vast quantities that day.

Onoda had been sitting in the corridor for quite some time when a shadow fell across him, and he glanced up, expecting to see Imaizumi or Naruko or possibly even Miki or Makishima, but instead found himself face-to-face with an older boy he had never seen before. The boy had red hair-- like Naruko, but it was a darker shade, closer to auburn-- and he was smiling at him. He looked like he was about Makishima’s age and his robe accents marked him as a Slytherin.

Onoda felt slightly wary. This person was truly a complete stranger-- they weren’t in the same house, and they wouldn’t have been classmates, either, leaving him at a loss as to why this boy had felt the need to approach him in the first place.

“Hey there-- I’m Eikichi Machimiya, Slytherin Beater,” the boy said in a friendly voice, extending a hand. “Pleased to meet you, kiddo. It’s a shame about the match.”

Onoda tentatively shook the proffered hand, not entirely sure how to feel about Eikichi Machimiya’s attempts to engage him in a conversation, his confrontation with Toudou still fresh in his mind. Machimiya at least seemed more pleasant than Toudou, but Onoda felt it was prudent to be cautious nonetheless.

“Uh-- yeah, I guess so,” he said nervously as he withdrew his hand. “I’m Sakamichi Onoda.”

“Hey, hey there’s no need to look so worried,” the redhead said. “I just came over for a chat since you looked so lonely over here by yourself, you know.”

“O-oh,” Onoda said. “That’s… kind of you?”

“Think nothing of it,” Machimiya said, smiling broadly enough his eyes were barely slits. “I can’t stand seeing unhappy people all on their own with no one to commiserate with. It’s good to have company when you’re upset, you know.”

Onoda didn’t know how to respond to that, so he ducked his head, privately hoping that Machimiya would give up and leave if he saw that Onoda was not interested in making conversation.

“I have to say though,” Machimiya mused as he settled more comfortably against the wall next to Onoda, clearly making no indication of leaving, “you do seem to be handling the disappointment surprisingly well, considering… ah, well….”

Onoda felt an overwhelming urge to inch away from where Machimiya was standing companionably by his side, but he couldn’t justify the desire to himself. Even if he would rather be alone, the older boy was just being friendly, wasn’t he? There was no reason for Onoda to feel like he was a small animal being circled by a hungry predator, was there?

So instead of moving away, Onoda ignored his instincts and offered weakly, “Considering we lost, right?”

Machimiya raised his eyebrows dramatically at Onoda, as if in surprise. “Ah, not exactly,” he said, shifting slightly, seemingly uneasy with the topic, “I meant, considering Hufflepuff lost the match because their Seeker messed up-- or because you messed up, I guess you could say.”

Onoda froze in place, briefly uncomprehending Machimiya’s words until slowly, slowly the meaning trickled in.

“I mean, you’re a complete rookie so it’s not like it was particularly unexpected-- no one really thought you’d be able to be able to beat Gryffindor in the first place,” Machimiya continued, apparently unaware that every word he uttered struck Onoda like a physical blow, “so at least it can’t have been too much of a shock.”

“You mean-- we never even….”

“You never even stood a chance?” Machimiya finished, releasing a small burst of laughter. “Of course you didn’t! I mean, Gryffindor’s win record was solid before now, and unlike your team, they didn’t replace their most seasoned Seeker with a beginner immediately before their first match. I guess if Hufflepuff had just kept Makishima as Seeker they might have actually been able to put up a decent fight, but as it is I can’t imagine what they were thinking.”

The words--uttered in such a cheerful tone--continued to hurt, but even if Onoda had possessed the courage to defend himself in the first place he wouldn’t have been able to.

He wouldn’t have been able to because he knew in his heart that everything Machimiya was saying was true. Onoda doubted Machimiya was even saying it intentionally maliciously-- more like, he was just stating the facts as they were.

And the match had succeeded in making those facts abundantly clear to Onoda as well.

Machimiya was right. What had Onoda been thinking this whole time, trying to be a Quidditch player? He had obviously been fooling himself, acting like just because he practiced a little and a senior teammate said he had potential meant that he was anywhere near capable of playing alongside someone like Imaizumi or Naruko.

Or the idea that his pathetic attempts at flying would ever be enough to impress Manami. What a joke that was-- Manami’s attention had never been less focussed on Onoda than it had been since Onoda had started playing Quidditch, and only now did it occur to him to wonder if those two points had anything in common. Wouldn’t it make sense if the reason why he was pulling away from Onoda was only because Onoda began pulling away first without noticing? Or was he just embarrassed by Onoda’s delusions of having talent and was trying to distance himself from that?

And what about the Hufflepuff Quidditch team? They had trusted him, and look at how Onoda had repaid them-- by allowing his own pride and selfishness to rob them of their victory. He should have known better-- they should have known better. This whole time, all Onoda had been doing was making a fool of himself and everyone around him.

And now he finally understood that.

Machimiya, who had been silently watching Onoda out of the corner of his eye, leaned over and clapped his shoulder once, startling him from his thoughts.

Onoda flinched.

“Ah, well,” Machimiya said. “I’d better be on my way for now, but I’d very much like to speak to you again sometime. Until then, chin up! Maybe you’ll have better luck for the next match-- assuming you get a chance to play again, that is.”

Machimiya made his way leisurely down the corridor, whistling a jaunty tune. He had his hands in his robe pockets and there was a distinct spring in his step that hadn’t been there earlier. He was the very picture of someone who had just achieved exactly what he set out to do.

Onoda wanted to hate him, but he found he couldn’t. It wasn’t fair to hate someone just for telling the truth when you didn’t want to hear it, and Machimiya had even done him a favour of sorts. If Onoda was truly being honest with himself, his conversation with the older boy had actually helped to finally put things into perspective for him.

If Onoda truly wanted his team to win, the best thing-- or rather, the only thing-- he could do to help was to quit the team immediately.

Chapter Text

Much to the surprise of the Hogwarts student body— Onoda included— Slytherin was soundly beaten by Ravenclaw in their match the week following Hufflepuff’s defeat by Gryffindor.

It hadn’t been a massacre of a match— both sides had played well, with each team managing to score roughly the same number of goals for most of the game, separated by only ten or twenty points at a time.

At least, the score had been close until Ravenclaw’s Seeker had— in a daredevil move—managed to snag the Snitch out from under the nose of a seemingly unsuspecting Jinpachi Toudou, and that was the main source of surprise to be had from the match.

Onoda had known before the match had begun that Imaizumi would prove to be an amazing Keeper, and he was. He kept a cool head and followed the flow of the game carefully, so he always seemed to know which hoop Slytherin would attempt to score on next, and would react accordingly. Ravenclaw’s Chasers were also all adept flyers and used a variety of clever strategies and plays to score points, and their Beaters were ruthlessly proficient. All in all, Ravenclaw was a well put-together team, and it was clear that their practices had done them good.

But the possibility that Jinpachi Toudou might lose had barely seemed liked a possibility to Onoda at the beginning of the match, so this outcome was both particularly unexpected and unwelcome.

Slytherin had lost the match, which meant that they would be the next team that Hufflepuff would have to face. And it meant that if Onoda didn’t quit the team soon, he could soon expect to be going up against Toudou himself within the fortnight, a fact which did nothing to ease Onoda’s ever-present anxiety.

Still, despite his nerves, Onoda did his best to be happy for Imaizumi’s win when they met for dinner at the Hufflepuff table that night, offering his enthusiastic congratulations for a game well played and receiving a small smile in turn that succeeded in lifting his spirits slightly, despite everything. Onoda had settled in, hoping that a pleasant post-victory dinner with his best friends might help take his mind off of things, but it didn’t take long to become clear that, considering who Onoda’s best friends were, a quiet, uneventful evening was quite simply not in the cards.

“I didn’t even know who to cheer for in that match, would you believe it?” Naruko said, directing his comment at Imaizumi as he took a break from enthusiastically shovelling potatoes into his mouth. “On the one hand, it would have sucked if Slytherin had won, but then you’re on the other team so cheering for Ravenclaw also felt like a betrayal of everything I believe in. It was a real problem.”

Onoda had been sitting with Naruko when they watched the Ravenclaw versus Slytherin match, so he had seen firsthand the way Naruko had puffed out his cheeks in a show of sullen anger whenever Imaizumi had managed to pull off a particularly daring save. For Naruko’s sake, though, Onoda decided that he would pretend he hadn’t also noticed how Naruko always seemed more upset on the rare occasions Imaizumi missed a shot, rather than less.

Imaizumi didn’t have the benefit of this knowledge, however, and his lip curled at Naruko’s words. “Then why did you even bother to show up?” he said shortly, stabbing into a slice of roast pork with enough force for his fork to hit the plate underneath.

Onoda winced at the sound, and— somewhat nervously— took another sip of his pumpkin juice. On any other night Imaizumi might have let a comment like that slide, but it seemed as though he was going to take it personally this time for some reason that Onoda was not entirely sure of.

“Come on, Quidditch is Quidditch,” Naruko said, shrugging, obviously not heeding the danger signs. “And I guess this is the better outcome in at least one way, since it means I get to see how good you really are when we finally face off next match.”

“You’re right, this is a good outcome,” Imaizumi said through clenched teeth. “If all I have to worry about next match is stopping your weak shots on goal then this will at least be an easy win for Ravenclaw.“

Naruko’s face briefly registered a look of surprise at the decidedly not-playful tone even before he actually processed what Imaizumi had said. nice he had, however, his eyes narrowed in sudden fury and he slammed his hands down on the table. “What did you just say?” he snarled.

Imaizumi met his eyes cooly. “Please, you know exactly what I’m talking about. Your form during your match with Onoda was pathetic. I was almost embarrassed for you.”

“You piece of shit, don’t you—”

“In all the times we’ve practiced together,” Imaizumi continued, raising his voice to be heard over Naruko’s angered sputtering, “I have never seen you fly as poorly as you did in that game, and I can hazard a guess why.”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“It’s because you’re trying to do everything yourself,” Imaizumi snapped. “You’re so focused on standing out that you’re forgetting that Chaser isn’t a solo position. You have teammates for a reason, and if you’re not using them you’re just going to make a fool out of yourself. Again.”

“But—”

“I wasn’t finished,” Imaizumi interrupted. “Teshima and Aoyagi’s strength is that they act as one unit— if you’re going to be a Chaser too, then you have to adapt to them and their playing style, or I guarantee you’ll never manage to score a single goal. This is Quidditch. It’s a team sport and it isn’t all about you.”

“What the fuck is this, some kind of lecture?” Naruko demanded. “Why do you care, anyways? What do you want from me?”

“I want you to give me a better match than you gave Hufflepuff!” Imaizumi all but exploded, his fork making a horrible screeching sound on his plate as he twisted it in his mangled slice of roast. “I want you to swallow your pride and work on playing well instead of trying to look cool for once— and if you can’t do that, you might as well tell me now so I can save myself the trouble of bothering to take our match with Gryffindor seriously!”

Naruko stood, shoulders shaking with rage. “You know what, hotshot—fuck you.”

Naruko stormed away, but not before upending his goblet of pumpkin juice over Imaizumi’s head.

Imaizumi sat there for several moments after Naruko had made his (flashy, as per usual) exit, dripping, until Onoda managed to shake himself out of his own stupor and nudged his shoulder.

“Um… do you need some napkins?” Onoda asked tentatively. “I mean… I guess it’s pumpkin juice so it’ll be sticky no matter what when it dries, right? But it might help to at least soak up as much of it as possible before it stains your shirt—”

Imaizumi blinked, pumpkin juice dripping freely from his bangs, before withdrawing his own wand and pointing it at himself. “Tergeo,” he said in an almost mechanical-sounding voice, and the juice on his skin and robes vanished, wiped away as if it had never been there in the first place.

“Or… you could do that, I guess,” Onoda said, feeling extraordinarily stupid. “Magic.”

Imaizumi was putting his wand away again, frowning.

“It’s not… you were just trying to help,” Onoda said, wishing there was something he could say to make Imaizumi feel better. “You probably could have said it differently, but I don’t think you really deserved that.”

Imaizumi sighed. “Maybe not, but it’ll be worth it if he listens,” he said in a surprisingly calm voice, all things considered. He didn’t seem to want to make eye-contact with Onoda, though, his gaze lingering on the door that Naruko had vanished through. “You saw it too, right? He’s capable of better than that.”

Onoda felt his stomach drop at the question.

“I don’t know,” he said eventually, rubbling the back of his neck. “I don’t think… I’m a good person to ask, really.”

Imaizumi’s eyes narrowed slightly as they snapped to meet Onoda’s. “Why not? I trust your opinion, and you’re familiar with his flying style. You’re the obvious choice.”

“Well, maybe. But….”

But Onoda hadn’t found the courage to tell Imaizumi about his plans to quit the Hufflepuff Quidditch team yet, so he doubted that Imaizumi would understand why Onoda would be feeling like he was the last person who should be making comments about anyone else’s capabilities.

He was just wondering how he was going to come up with an excuse this time when he felt a tentative hand on his shoulder. Onoda jolted in his seat in response, as his mind supplied him with the image of Machimiya coming to “be friendly” with him again, but a quick glance being him showed a familiar face with green hair and a sickly attempt at a reassuring smile, and Onoda felt an overwhelming sense of relief.

“M-Makishima, sir,” Onoda let out a breath of relief.

“Yuusuke is fine, Sakamichi… or at least maybe drop the ‘sir,’ we can start with that,” Makishima said, grimacing once before removing his hand. “Sorry for startling you, Sakamichi. Is… this seat free?”

Onoda glanced at the spot that Naruko had just vacated. “Uh, yes,” he answered hurriedly, quickly pushing away Naruko’s half-finished plate to make room for Makishima. “Here… there’s space for you to put your plate right here, and the food platters are still full, so—“

“Easy, Sakamichi,” Makishima chuckled drily. “I’ve already eaten. I was just speaking with some older members of the team and I wanted to stop by and share some information with you, since it might end up affecting you later on.”

“Oh,” Onoda said, startled. “Sure.”

“Do you want me to leave?” Imaizumi asked, in his characteristically blunt way.

Makishima raised an eyebrow at him. “Not necessary,” he said. “I’m not planning on talking about Hufflepuff Quidditch strategies or anything, but it would be appreciated if you didn’t spread any of this around anyways.”

“Of course,” Imaizumi said.

“It’s about the Ravenclaw versus Slytherin game today,” Makishima said. “I assume you were there, Sakamichi?”

Onoda nodded.

“Good to know, I was watching it too,” Makishima said, drumming his fingers against the table thoughtfully, “To put it simply, the fact that Toudou wasn't able to catch that Snitch or at least put up a better fight to get it seems odd to me. There’s something about this whole thing that just gives me a really bad feeling.”

“Wait,” Onoda said, catching on to the implication in Makishima’s words. “You’re saying that there’s a chance that Toudou… threw the match?”

Onoda gaped, and Imaizumi’s eyes narrowed infinitesimally.

“Not to belittle Ravenclaw’s achievement, of course,” Makishima continued, waving vaguely in Imaizumi’s general direction. “It was a well-played match, and the win was well-deserved— but I believe there is a possibility,” he said as he met Onoda’s shocked gaze, “that Toudou’s failure to catch the Snitch was intentional, yes.”

Onoda sat in stunned silence following Makishima’s revelation until Imaizumi broke in with a small scoff of disbelief. “You’ll excuse me for finding that doubtful, of course,” he said. “What possible reason would he have to do that?”

Makishima offered him a thin smile. “You’re sort of impudent for a second year, aren’t you… Imaizumi, right?”

Imaizumi’s brows furrowed further, but he gave a quick nod in reply.

“Thought so— well, maybe you have reason to be impudent, at least. Sakamichi always speaks very highly of you, and now that I’ve seen you play for myself, I can see he’s right to. You’re a clever flyer, Imaizumi,” Makishima said, “and you clearly know your way around a Quidditch match.”

Imaizumi blinked, clearly taken aback. “I… thank-you?”

“But,” Makishima continued, “I know Toudou. I know his skillset and I know how he thinks, and losing this way isn’t like him at all. I think he’s planning something, and I don’t really know what that something might be, but I’d hazard a guess that it involves our next game.”

“Our… next game?” Onoda asked cautiously, almost afraid to hear the answer.

“You’ve probably already realized that the next time we play, it’ll be against Slytherin,” Makishima said, once again addressing Onoda. “If Toudou’s intention was to force us into a Hufflepuff vs. Slytherin match, then losing to Ravenclaw was the quickest and surest way to get us there. And you’re a Seeker like him, after all, so if he has plans involving our team then they’ll most likely affect you too, and you’ll have to be ready for it.”

Onoda swallowed, feeling a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. “O-oh,” he said, quickly coming to the realization that this possibility was more likely than even Makishima knew. He still hadn’t told anyone about Toudou’s threat— nor did he intend to— but if Makishima was correct, then Onoda was almost certain that Toudou was planning on using their next match specifically to make a mockery of him in some way or other.

“Still,” Imaizumi added, a note of caution in his voice. “I do think that you’re making a rather large assumption— would a Seeker really jeopardize the season for their whole team just for… what? Sort of grudge match?”

Makishima shrugged. “It sounds farfetched, but I still think it’s a possibility. Toudou is an excellent player, and he’s confident in himself. I feel like he would have the gall to try something like this, if only because he fully believes he is capable of pulling his team back from the jaws of defeat afterward. He’s that kind of person.”

Onoda doubted he was just imagining the tinge of admiration that seemed to creep into Makishima’s voice the more he talked about Toudou. Clearly, whatever relationship Makishima had with Toudou was a complicated one, for him to display so many vastly differing options of what the Slytherin boy in such a short period of time.

“Anyways,” Makishima said, straightening out his robes as he rose from his perch. “Sorry I don’t have better answers now, but I just thought you ought to know about this, just in case.”

“It’s okay,” Onoda said, uncomfortable in the knowledge that he did have more information, information that he was deliberately choosing not to share. “Thank you, Makishima, sir.”

Makishima sighed— likely at the ‘sir’— and tapped Onoda’s shoulder one last time. “See you at practice, Sakamichi. We’ll have our work cut out for us if we want to be ready to face Slytherin in two weeks.”

“Y-yes, alright,” Onoda said as Makishima left for his original seat.

Onoda still hadn’t mentioned his intentions of quitting the team to Imaizumi or Naruko yet, and had been too afraid to bring it up with the rest of his team. He knew he should do it sooner rather than later, since they would have to bring in and train a new regular member to replace him, but at least now he finally had a solid deadline for quitting.

He would leave the team sometime before they faced Slytherin. That way, Hufflepuff would have a better Seeker than Onoda to back them up, and Toudou wouldn’t get his chance to do whatever it was he was planning to do to Onoda. Everyone would be happy.

Everyone would be happy, Onoda repeated in his head, pushing around the cold vegetables on his plate and trying to convince himself that the sinking feeling in his stomach was just indigestion.

****

Onoda had been hoping he would see Naruko again that evening if only because he was slightly worried about him, but he hadn’t expected to run into him immediately after he had taken his leave of Imaizumi in the Great Hall.

And by 'run into,' he meant that Naruko actually ran into him, barrelling him over as he turned a corner.

“Where are you off to in such a hurry?” Onoda asked, as Naruko offered a variety of breathless apologies and offered him a hand up, which he took.

His question might as well have been rhetorical, because it would be obvious to any observer where exactly Naruko was going. He was wearing his training robes and carrying his Thunderbolt with him, although his behaviour suggested he was up to something considerably more suspicious than the obvious explanation.

“Me? Ah… flying practice, of course!” Naruko said, laughing with the air of someone who had been caught doing something he shouldn’t. “I wanted to get a bit more time in the air before curfew, you know.”

It was a perfectly rational response but still didn’t explain the furtive looks he kept throwing around at odd intervals, and Onoda felt a small amount of curiousity creep into his concern.

“Okay,” Onoda said. “Is there… something wrong? I know you and Shunsuke had a bit of a… disagreement earlier and I didn’t want to bring it up at dinner but if there’s anything you want to—“

Naruko in a flash was flapping his hand wildly in front of Onoda’s face, gritted teeth and every tense line of his body begging Onoda to cease with whatever clumsy thought he was attempting to articulate. “Nonono it’s got nothing to do with that!” Naruko said unconvincingly, glancing around once more before leaning in close to Onoda. “Okay, fine— it’s not entirely to do with that. Don’t tell the hotshot, but I… kind of asked Teshima and Aoyagi to join me today?”

Some of his surprise at that admission must have shown on Onoda’s face, because Naruko drew back and was instantly on the defensive. “But it's only for now!” he insisted stubbornly. “This isn’t permanent or anything, I just want to see the surprised look on ugly-zumi's prissy rich-boy face when I prove him wrong and score a hundred and fifty points off him next game.”

“Oh,” Onoda said. “You’re going to train with them?”

“Yeah…” Naruko grimaced, looking pained. “But they’re so weird, Sakamichi!” he added in vehemently. “They always seem to know what the other is thinking and Aoyagi stares at me all creepily whenever I’m talking to him… and Teshima is such an asshole—”

“But… they’re good Chasers, right?” Onoda offered.

Naruko’s jaw set stubbornly in response but he still nodded reluctantly. “Yeah, I guess you could say that. It’s definitely not their welcoming personalities that got them onto the team, at any rate.”

It sounded as if Naruko wasn’t entirely sure if he even liked the other Chasers yet, and Onoda privately thought that training together was more than just a good idea. It was probably just as important that Naruko grew to like and respect his teammates as it was that they learn to adapt to each others’ playing styles. Imaizumi— usually so terrible at understanding people— had been surprisingly perceptive to pickup on that.

“Well, good luck, then,” Onoda said, trying to inject as much genuine encouragement into his voice as possible. “I hope your practice goes well.”

“Of course it will--this is me we're talking about,” Naruko said. “Just remember what I said— Imaizumi never hears about this, okay? And I mean never.”

“Alright.”

“Because it didn’t happen.”

“Yes, I got it,” Onoda said obligingly.

“Awesome,” Naruko said, before fixing Onoda with a brilliant smile. “You always understand everything so well, Sakamichi— it’s one of your best points.”

“Thanks?” Onoda replied. Naruko’s statement was, of course, utterly incorrect, but the upbeat reply warmed Onoda’s heart to slightly nonetheless.

“Ah, right! I’d better get going before it gets too dark to fly. Thanks for listening, Sakamichi, and remember,” Naruko said, index finger extended, “this is our little secret, yeah?”

Onoda ducked his head, fighting back a smile. “I won’t tell anyone, don’t worry.”

“Awesome. Catch you later, Sakamichi!” Naruko said, already hurrying off down the hall.

It was almost a shame that Naruko was so clearly embarrassed at the possibility that Imaizumi might find out about him practicing with the other Gryffindor Chasers, because Onoda was sure that Imaizumi would be happy to receive confirmation that Naruko had, in fact, listened to him and taken his advice.

It couldn’t be helped, though. Imaizumi would undoubtedly realize that his words had made an impression during their match, especially if Naruko had improved significantly by then.

Onoda was still smiling as he made his way back to the Hufflepuff dormitories. It was reassuring to see the proof once in awhile that his friends did seem to care about each other somewhat even if their interactions weren't particularly friendly for the most part. The knowledge that maybe he wasn’t simply trying to force a friendship between the two that was impossible made him feel a bit more optimistic, despite everything.

But it wasn’t to last, unfortunately, because the next corner he turned brought him face-to-face with the absolute last person he wanted to see.

“Sakamichi,” Eikichi Machimiya said, smiling, “I was hoping I'd catch you this evening!”

Onoda, despite the way his heart stuttered in fear relexively, couldn’t help but wonder if Machimiya had been waiting all this time for another chance to get him alone. Despite the fact that he wanted to dismiss this possibility as foolish paranoia, he had a nasty suspicion that his instincts were correct.

“I heard we’ll be playing your team next!” Machimiya announced loudly, clapping a hand on Onoda’s shoulder. “Keep working hard, Sakamichi! Maybe you’ll have better luck with it this time!”

Part of Onoda— a large part— told him to get as far away from him as he could as quickly as he could, but it was all Onoda could do to not shrink away like a frightened rabbit.

“Although,” Machimiya said quietly, drawing him in close with an arm around his shoulder. “I know I’m not technically supposed to be sharing confidential Slytherin team information with our opponents, but between you and me, I feel like it’s only fair to warn you in advance that our Seeker is planning something special for you.”

Don’t let him get to you.

“Normally I would keep quiet about this kind of thing, but I can’t help but feel bad,” Machimiya said, rubbing the back of his head as if what he was saying was making him uncomfortable. “You’re only a second year and definitely not ready to play someone of Toudou’s caliber on equal footing, so I figure you can use all the help you can get. The fact that I warned you will just have to be our secret, alright?”

Onoda managed a small nod, desperately hoping that it would make Machimiya leave. He felt sick to his stomach despite the fact that, like the time before, he already knew everything Machimiya was saying to him and shouldn’t have been surprised. It just always hurt more than expected, to hear his worst fears confirmed.

Thankfully, Machimiya seemed to be finished after providing his ‘help,’ and straightened from his overly-chummy position at Onoda’s side, the arm around his shoulders lingering for just a second longer before finally withdrawing. “I have to get going now Sakamichi, I’m sorry. I’ll be looking forward to our match, though!” Machimiya called back at Onoda as he walked away. “See you then!”

Onoda ran back to the Hufflepuff dormitories, not caring who saw him.

Once he was back in the relative safety of his dorm room, Onoda curled up on his bed, pulling the covers over his head as he attempted to calm his tumultuous thoughts. His anxiety over seeing Machimiya again dissipated slightly as he counted shaky breaths and his heart rate gradually returned to normal, leaving him feeling drained and hollow.

Realsitically, he thought as he studied the weave of the sheet under his cheek, he should be most concerned about Toudou’s “plans” for him, whatever they might be, and how he could protect himself from them.

But maybe it was a non-issue, since in all likelihood he’d not be Hufflepuff’s Seeker for much longer.

At this precise moment, even beyond the more obvious problems, the thing that was bothering him the most was how much he missed Manami.

He missed Manami with an almost physical ache, but it didn’t make sense why he was the first thing on Onoda’s mind now, when Machimiya and Toudou and fact that he still hadn’t told anyone about his plans to quit the Quidditch team yet should have been more pressing concerns than the scarcity of his time spent with Manami. It wasn’t like having Manami with him now would help him with those problems much, either— he and Manami had never been that kind of close. They didn’t go to each other with their problems, and Onoda wasn’t even sure if Manami was the sort of person who was good at providing comfort to others or would even be interested in trying in the first place.

And it was such an empty desire, because Onoda also wanted Manami to think well of him, and that meant he couldn’t see Onoda like this. It was self-defeating to even consider bringing Manami in all of this, and Onoda didn’t understand what had caused him to think of it in the first place.

But it wasn’t like he could stop just because he wanted to.

***

The following week saw Onoda sitting with Makishima in the raised stands at the Quidditch pitch, waiting for the Gryffindor versus Ravenclaw match to begin.

The weather was not cooperating with anyone’s desires, and a light drizzle had started up just as the spectators were taking their seats. The stands were covered, luckily for Onoda and the rest of the spectators, but the field and the players would be totally exposed to the weather and the dark clouds blowing in from the west were foreboding omens of worse weather yet to come.

It appeared that it would take more than a little wind and rain to dampen Naruko’s spirits, at least, Onoda noted as he used his Omnioculars to zoom in on one of the distant players in red as they stood to attention on the field, waiting for Kanzaki to release the balls and start the match. With the Omnioculars, it was a simple thing to single out Naruko from the others and see the anticipatory grin that covered most of his face as he bounced on the balls of his feet, shooting glances over toward the Ravenclaw side of the pitch.

Imaizumi, in contrast, might have seemed bored to anyone not Onoda and not currently in possession of a set of highly expensive magical opera glasses. His eyes remained fixed determinedly in front of him, but the way his fingers tightened white-knuckled on his broom betrayed his heightened emotions. Whether they were like that from anxiousness or excitement, Onoda could only guess.

Ravenclaw took possession of the Quaffle at the face-off, and the match began with a vengeance. There were a series of rapid passes, brought to a halt when Tadokoro caught the Chaser in possession of the Quaffle with a well-aimed Bludger, allowing the Gryffindor Chasers to steal it away.

Onoda straightened in his seat, wondering if he was going to finally see the results of Naruko’s training with the other Chasers. All evidence seemed to indicate that he was— the brunette Chaser from the Gryffindor team passed to the wavy-haired Chaser, who bumped it across to Naruko, who wound up and thew the Quaffle with all his might….

And struck Imazumi dead-centre in the middle of his face.

The two older Gryffindor Chasers exchange looks and Naruko burst out laughing, not even caring when the ball fell back into Imaizumi’s waiting hands. He must have said something then, although Onoda couldn’t tell what exactly it was from this distance, but Imaizumi responded by gripping the ball tighter, his face flushed with anger.

“Oh, that does not look good,” Makishima said, an amused edge to his smile. “I wonder how he’ll respond to that— oh, well….”

Imaizumi had apparently taken advantage of Naruko’s momentary distraction as he turned to begin flying back to his own side of the pitch by whipping the Quaffle at Naruko, bouncing it off the back of his head.

“That’s a bit of a childish reaction,” Makishima said, as the Ravenclaw players scrambled to take possession of the Quaffle before Gryffindor could intercept it. “I didn’t think he was capable of it, going off the last match alone.”

“Shunsuke is actually a bit… competitive?” Onoda offered.

Makishima laughed briefly. “I can see that perfectly well now, don’t worry, Sakamichi.”

“Do you think they’ll keep this up for the whole match?” Onoda asked.

Makishima shrugged. “Probably not,” he said. “I doubt their teams would let them get way with it. They need to score actual goals, after all.”

True to Makishima’s words, both Imaizumi and Naruko seemed to be taking the match more seriously after their petty first encounter, and Onoda suspected that either one or both of them had gotten chewed out by their teammates in between plays. Naruko didn’t seem to have many shots on goal, but his passes had improved considerably and he no longer seemed to be trying to do everything himself. Onoda didn’t know if Imaizumi had noticed this or not, but he didn’t think he had never seen his concentration levels so high, either. By the time the game had been running for fifteen minutes, Imaizumi had already made eleven saves and only let in one particularly clever goal off to the side. Despite the wind and the increasing strength of the downpour, it was shaping up to be a good match.

And then it happened.

Onoda didn’t see the precise lead-up to the event because it happened in the middle of a wild scramble for the Quaffle and the rain made it difficult to see in much detail in the first place, but a single series of events stuck out to him with crystal-sharp clarity.

The brunette Gryffindor Chaser managed to snag the Quaffle and dropped it.

Naruko, who was circling underneath, caught it and picked up speed as he was immediately beset by the Ravenclaw Chasers, looking back over his shoulder as he tried to pinpoint where the attacks were likely to come from.

One of the Ravenclaw Beaters, panicked, swung at a Bludger as it streaked by and missed, the ball passing harmlessly off to the side.

He didn’t, however, miss Naruko.

The bat caught him straight across the back of his head with a sound that Onoda could swear was audible even over the wind and rain, and Onoda watched in horror as Naruko slipped off the broom and then he was falling, falling….

No. No no no no no—

If there was a sound as Naruko hit the field, Onoda didn’t hear it. He was already running full-tilt down the steep staircase toward the ground before he even registered making the decision to do so, his mind wiped blank with a new fear that reduced any lingering fears of the height of the stands to nothing.

Too high, Onoda thought, sick with dread. That was way too high up. You can’t… Shoukichi….

Onoda was no kind of expert, but even he knew that there was no way anyone could just bounce back up from a fall like that, even if he hadn’t been injured by the hit from the Beater’s bat before that. Had he been unconscious when he’d fallen? Onoda could only assume so, or he probably wouldn’t have fallen off in the first place, or did that mean anything? It was difficult enough to balance on a broom in the first place, maybe the momentum of the bat had….

“Sorry, Mr. Onoda, I’m going to have to ask you to not be trying to get on the field right now,” a steady voice said, and a broad hand settled on Onoda’s shoulder. “It’s being taken care of.”

Onoda whipped around, realizing for the first time that he had indeed been trying to make his way onto the Quidditch pitch. He hadn’t even been thinking about it, just running on autopilot.

“Professor Pierre,” Onoda said, in dull recognition.

“Take a seat, Mr, Onoda,” Pierre offered kindly, gesturing toward an empty spot on the bench he had been seated at. “Your friend will be receiving the best possible care, I promise.”

Numbly, Onoda did as he was told and sat on the bench, eyes fixed on the place Naruko had landed, where a crowd of people was steadily growing as teachers moved onto the field and the Gryffindor and Ravenclaw teams began to descend to find out what had happened

A blue and copper-clad player hit the ground like a meteor from above, and Onoda knew it was Imaizumi before he even saw his face.

Imaizumi looked appalled, like he couldn’t quite believe that the crumpled figure on the ground was actually his rival. “Naruko,” he said once in a voice that should have been angry, but mostly only sounded far too young and hopelessly lost. “Hey, Naruko? What are you doing, idiot, we have to… to--”

Imaizumi was prevented from coming closer when one of his teammates, an older boy with glasses, landed swiftly behind him and placed a firm hand on his shoulder. He muttered something in Imaizumi’s ear which immediately made the second year stiffen and attempt to throw off his restraining hand. The boy in glasses continued speaking, however, and soon Imaizumi appeared to calm down enough to consent to merely watching as the Transfiguration professor conjured a floating stretcher. One of the older Gryffindor boys-- Tadokoro, Onoda thought, carefully maneuvered Naruko’s limp body onto it, arranging his limbs more naturally around him.

In a surprising move considering the volatile relationship he and Naruko seemed to share, Onoda noticed that Tadokoro still took the time to ruffle Naruko’s wet hair once with an uncharacteristically gentle hand before stepping back and allowing the stretcher to be lifted away.

Once the small group clustered around Naruko had left the field, Kanzaki blew his whistle, startling Onoda from the cold state of shock that had been gripping him.

“Penalty to Ravenclaw for Beater misconduct!” He shouted to be heard over the sound of the rain. “Gryffindor may take one penalty shot!”

Imaizumi’s head snapped up, disbelief clearly written across every line of his face. “What?” he demanded, and Onoda could hear raw fury tainting the surprise in his voice. “What did you say?”

Kanzaki glanced over at Imaizumi, his face impassive. “The match is resuming. As the Ravenclaw Keeper, you’re needed back at your goal.”

“But you can’t-- Naruko’s hurt, are we just going to ignore that?” Imaizumi demanded incredulously, pulling away from his teammate’s attempts to hold him back. “You can’t seriously expect me to believe that knocking another player unconscious with a Beater’s bat can be brushed off with a fucking penalty shot--”

“Imaizumi--” Kanzaki said warningly.

“And are we seriously going to just act like nothing happened? We don’t even know how badly hurt he is yet and we’re going to keep playing? Kawada is allowed to keep playing?”

“Visibility is bad, Imaizumi, Kawada was already mid-swing and he couldn’t possibly have seen Naruko there in time to stop,” Kanzaki explained, a dangerous glint in his eye. “It was deemed unavoidable so the penalty will be a minor one to reflect that. Do you really want your own team to be penalized further?”

Imaizumi opened his mouth to argue but must have thought better of it because he turned away without saying anything, his movements jerky with anger as he mounted his broom and flew back to the Ravenclaw goal to wait, his eyes dark with anger.

In the end, Ravenclaw emerged victorious, but that incident marked the tipping point of the entire game.

Imaizumi didn’t manage to block a single shot for the remainder of the match, and it was only Ravenclaw’s Seeker managing to beat out Gryffindor’s in a mad scramble for the Snitch that allowed Ravenclaw to hold onto their lead and ultimately win the game 170-60.

When the match had ended and the pitch was being cleared, Onoda pushed through the throngs of people, looking for Imaizumi. It took considerable effort just to get over to where the Ravenclaw Quidditch team were clustered together, and even when he got there he still couldn’t see Imaizumi anywhere.

Had he left already? Onoda wondered. Before his team meeting or even changing out of his Quidditch gear?

“Um… excuse me?” Onoda asked the first Ravenclaw player he came to, who happened to be the one with glasses who had stopped Imaizumi earlier. “Do you know where I could find Shunsuke Imaizumi?”

The older boy looked at him curiously. “He left as soon as the match ended, and he was heading toward the Forbidden Forest, I think,” he said. “I’m guessing he went to find his friend’s broom— it flew in that direction after he fell off.”

Onoda thanked the Ravenclaw player before he began making his way quickly in the direction of the forest, forcing himself to jog despite the speed causing rain to whip into his face.

It didn’t take him long to find Imaizumi once he came to the edges of the Hogwarts grounds where the forest began, but by the time he did so he was soaked through to the bone and shivering. The rain might have also made visibility questionable, but it was hard not to spot one taller-than-average boy in blue robes struggling to dislodge a broomstick from what appeared to be a particularly thorny mess of brambles.

Imaizumi succeeded in pulling the broom out of the thicket just as Onoda drew near, and Onoda saw that the first thing he did once it was free was to bring the handle up close to his face as if checking it for damage. Onoda thought he might have heard a few darkly muttered words about a ‘terrible excuse for a broom,’ but he could easily have just been mishearing over the sound of the wind.

“Shunsuke,” Onoda said, and Imaizumi visibly stiffened, turning with the broom clutched awkwardly in front of him as if to shield him from whoever had succeeded in approaching without him noticing.

“Sakamichi,” Imaizumi acknowledged after a pause, dropping his arms reluctantly back down to his sides as he recognized that the newcomer was just Onoda. “I thought you would have gone back to the castle already.”

The words to check up on Naruko were unspoken, but Onoda heard them loud and clear regardless.

“I figured I’d just be in the way if I went so soon after the match, and I was wondering where you went off to,” Onoda said, his voice honest but his phrasing chosen carefully. “I had actually forgotten about the broom, but since you managed to find it I was thinking we could go give it back together… if you want?”

You could visit him too, you know, was what Onoda really wanted to say, but he didn’t have any idea how Imaizumi would take it so those words remained unspoken as well.

Imaizumi paused for a moment before replying, as if he was choosing his answer carefully. “If you were going anyways, I suppose I could go with you,” he said. “And you’re right, we should at least return the broom.”

Imaizumi raised his hand to push his sodden bangs out of his face, and Onoda noticed something that made his stomach clench unpleasantly.

He was sure that Imaizumi must have known a spell that could cut through branches, but even if he did it was clear that he must have opted not to use it, because his hands were covered in scratches . Onoda realized with a sinking feeling that Imaizumi must have torn through the brambles that were trapping Naruko’s broom barehanded, with only the minimal cover afforded by his Quidditch gloves for protection.

“Let’s go, Sakamichi,” Imaizumi said, and Onoda was jolted back into reality.

“Ah… yes, alright,” Onoda agreed, although the image of the scratches on Imaizumi’s hands refused to leave him alone and he couldn’t shake the feeling that, despite the fact that Naruko was the one in the infirmary, it was Imaizumi that he needed to keep an eye on the most at that moment.

***

By the time Onoda and Imaizumi had made it back into the castle and had cleaned and dried their robes enough to not attract the ire of the Hogwarts cleaning staff, they found what seemed to be the entirety of the Gryffindor Quidditch team waiting just outside the infirmary door, conversing amongst each other in low tones. Their expressions were mostly grim, and Onoda tried to tell himself that it was just because they lost their match and not because….

The wavy-haired Gryffindor Chaser caught their eye as they approached the open infirmary door and, to their dismay, shook his head ever so slightly. His expression was hopeless, and Onoda felt himself go cold with dread.

A frightened glance over in Imaizumi’s direction showed a similarly horrified expression on his face.

They burst through the doorway together, already looking around desperately for the familiar flash of red hair, and Onoda was ready to demand to be allowed to see his friend no matter what the nurse said, and no matter what dire state he may be in.

He was left confused and deflated by the sight he was instead confronted with.

“Hey Sakamichi, hotshot,” Naruko said brightly, fixing them with a toothy grin from where he was resting comfortably on one of the infirmary beds, holding a mug of something that steamed. “I was wondering when you would show!”

Contrary to every horrible image Onoda’s mind had supplied him with, Naruko seemed perfectly fine, and apart from the swath of bandages that he still had wrapped around his head he looked nearly as energetic as he had that morning at breakfast. His usual sharp-toothed smile fell slightly when he saw the looks they were fixing him with, however, and an expression of confusion replaced it.

“Uh… did something happen?” he asked.

Imaizumi opened and closed his mouth once, before shaking his head and looking away angrily. “No, nothing at all,” he said, scowling.

Naruko looked toward Onoda, likely seeking a better explanation, and Onoda admitted hesitantly, “Well… I can’t speak for Shunsuke, I guess, but I was sort of expecting you to be… in a lot worse health than you seem to be?”

Naruko frowned, cocking his head to one side in confusion. “Why would you think that?”

“It’s just… your teammate outside seemed—“

Naruko continued to look confused for only a brief second before his eyes narrowed in realization, and he whipped around as much as his blankets would allow before shouting “TESHIMA!” angrily in the direction of the infirmary entrance.

The wavy-haired Chaser poked his head inside the doorway, grinning. “You called?”

“Don’t give me that, you perm-headed piece of shit,” Naruko growled. “What lies have you been telling Sakamichi?”

“Now now, Shoukichi, that’s no way to address your upperclassman,” Teshima said with a smirk. “And I didn’t tell the little Hufflepuff anything, I just might have broadcasted my sorrow over your bedridden state a little too clearly in my expression as he walked by, that’s all.”

“That’s all?”

“And it wasn’t like I was trying to bother him in particular— you can’t blame me for wanting to see the elite pureblood Shunsuke Imaizumi squirm a bit, can you?”

Imaizumi cast a murderous look at Teshima. Imaizumi was the taller of the two by a considerable margin, but the older boy gave no indication of being the slightest bit intimidated.

“So worth it,” Teshima sighed in satisfaction before turning to address Naruko. “Shoukichi, I’m supposed to remind you you we’re postponing our team meeting until tomorrow, so your head had better be fixed by then, okay?”

“Your head had better be fixed by then!”

“My point is made,” Teshima said. “Just make sure you rest up and take your potion like a good boy or Jin will never let you hear the end of it.”

Naruko rolled his eyes. ”Yeah, yeah,” he said, although he did, at least, begrudgingly add a “thanks,” at the end.

“Anything for our favourite little upstart,” Teshima said, ducking back out into the hallway with a wave. “Just make sure you do as I say, yeah?”

“Asshole,” Naruko muttered under his breath as Teshima left. He took a swig from the mug he was cradling in his hands and cringed. “Ughhhh, that’s nasty.”

“What is... that, exactly?” Onoda asked, eying the mug suspiciously.

Naruko held it up at eye-level, frowning. “You know, what? I have no idea. I guess it’s a healing potion, but most of the broken bones were fixed before I even woke up. This must just be a potion for something else, I don’t know what. But anyways, back to the important part— the match! I hear it was at least a pretty good one, even if it ended badly for my team, huh?”

Onoda would argue that it ended badly for everyone in their own way, but he wouldn’t have had the first idea of how to explain.

Onoda merely replied with, “Yes— I’m sorry.”

“I guess I’ll just have to console myself with the knowledge that you made a less-than-spectacular showing while I was out,” Naruko sighed exaggeratedly as he settled back into his pillows, directing this comment to Imaizumi. “Teshima told me that he and Aoyagi decimated you in the last few minutes.”

“I might have missed a couple of tricky shots in the rain,” Imaizumi said blandly. “Not like it matters, since we won anyways. And you have no reason to be so happy that your team still does better when you’re not playing.”

Naruko scowled, visibly drawing back as if stung. “Go to hell, Imaizumi. I just got knocked off a broom and busted my head open--you could at least pretend to be upset.”

Imaizumi said nothing, just picked at a loose thread on the sleeve of his blue Quidditch robes and refused to meet Naruko’s eyes.

The silence was deafening until Onoda hurriedly put in, “So, uh, Shoukichi, do you think you’ll be able to leave the infirmary soon, since you seem to be feeling okay now?”

Naruko made a sullen face. “No, I’m supposed to stay here for the rest of today and overnight. It’s stupid— I’m mostly already fixed but apparently here at Hogwarts we ‘don’t take chances with head injuries, Mr. Naruko,’ which is why I get to have my skull plastered with bandages now instead of meeting with the rest of the team for the post-game. I guess I should count myself lucky that you guys were even allowed to visit in the first place.”

“Well… it’s probably for the best then,” Onoda confessed. “It was… really scary when you fell during the match.”

“Aww, Sakamichi,” Naruko said fondly, like Onoda had just said something positively cute. “This kind of thing happens a lot in Quidditch— just ask hotshot. Don’t you know, by the end of the 1868 World Cup none of the players on the winning team were the same members who had started out due to injuries alone.”

“Really?” Onoda asked. “Is that true?”

“It is,” Imaizumi said, although he didn’t look at all happy to admit it.

“See? A fall like mine is nothing to worry about,” Naruko said, smiling crookedly at Onoda. “It sucks that it happened before I got a chance to show hotshot who’s boss, but that’s just life, you know.”

“Oh,” Onoda said, realizing that he was still thinking of healing in terms of muggle healing methods rather than magical ones. “Sorry, then— I guess I was getting confused. Since muggles don’t have magical healing, it makes sense that a few broken bones from a bad fall are a bigger deal for them than they are for wizards, right?”

“Something like that,” Naruko said, blinking slowly, as if his eyelids were suddenly inexplicably heavy. “Quidditch is just… that’s the way it is. You can’t let it bother you that much, Sakamichi.”

Onoda was just opening his mouth to reply when the Healer reentered the infirmary and approached, plucking the nearly-finished mug from Naruko’s increasingly unsteady grip and beginning to settle the blankets more firmly around him.

“It looks like the potion’s beginning to kick in, so I’m afraid you’ll have to finish up your visit now,” the Healer said, and when Onoda opened his mouth to protest she continued firmly, “He’s going to have to sleep in order for the healing to do its work, so you can’t be in here distracting him. He’ll be released tomorrow, so I’m sure you’ll be able to do whatever catching up you need to then.”

“Uh… okay, thank-you,” Onoda said nervously. “We’ll be out in a moment.”

Under the Healer’s watchful eyes, Onoda and Imaizumi made to leave but before they could take more than a step in the direction of the exit Naruko, in a move that startled them both, caught the corner of Imaizumi’s sleeve with one uncoordinated hand.

If Imaizumi had wanted to he could easily have brushed off the weak hold, but he instead obediently came to a halt and turned back, expectant.

“Hotshot. It’s just… damn, I was going to surprise you,” Naruko tried to shoot him a halfhearted glare, but he mostly just succeeded in looking vaguely disappointed. “We finally had the chance to play each other in an actual game and I….”

Onoda didn’t think Imaizumi knew exactly what Naruko was referring to, but Imaizumi seemed to understand what he meant well enough anyways. “It’s not your fault,” he said, his voice level but his eyes downcast. “And there’s always next year.”

“Right… next year,” Naruko agreed, voice slurring slightly. “I’ll hold you to that, you… you human stick-thing.”

“Is that really the best you can come up with?”

“I don’t know… sticky, prickly… something long with bits that poke.”

“Go to sleep,” Imaizumi said, turning away abruptly. “You’re making less sense than usual.”

Imaizumi tugged his sleeve out of Naruko’s grasp and left the room at a brisk pace without further adieu. Onoda thought it almost looked like he was running away from something, although he wasn’t sure what.

Hoping quietly that Imaizumi would be alright, Onoda addressed a now barely-conscious Naruko. “Sleep well, Shoukichi, I hope you’re feeling better tomorrow.”

“You too,” Naruko drawled sleepily. “Thanks for… y’know, for my broom.”

“Don’t thank me, thank Shusuke. He’s the one who went to get it in the first place,” Onoda said, privately wondering how much of this conversation would even be remembered in the morning. “You know…” he said hesitantly, unable to stop himself. The image of Imaizumi’s lost expression as he held Naruko’s broom still haunted him. “I still think you two would be really great friends if you gave each other the chance. I’ve always thought that.”

“Hmm….” was the only response he received.

Naruko’s eyes weren’t even open anymore and Onoda had no confidence whatsoever that Naruko had even registered what he had said, let alone taken it to heart.

It wasn’t like there was anything he could do about it, though. Maybe Naruko would remember, maybe he wouldn’t. It was out of Onoda’s hands now.

The Gryffindor Quidditch team was no longer present when Onoda exited the infirmary and closed the door carefully behind him, but there was one newcomer in addition to Imaizumi, and he was certainly not someone Onoda had expected to be there.

It took Onoda only a few short seconds to recognize the other boy as Kawada, one of the Ravenclaw Beaters. Onoda didn’t know him personally, but he was in their year so they had some classes together and he knew him well enough by sight. Was Kawada here to visit Naruko as well? That was… interesting, considering he was the one who had caused Naruko to be injured in the first place.

Onoda briefly wondered what exactly it was that he had walked in on, but before he could speculate on it further, Imaizumi spoke up. "Sakamichi, you can go on ahead,” he said, ignoring Onoda’s questioning stare. “I have something to discuss with Kawada—as a teammate, of course, so you’ll understand if I’d rather not have someone from Hufflepuff here for it.”

“Oh, of course,” Onoda said, and although it wasn’t a particularly strange request there was a little voice in the back of his mind that insisted something was wrong. There was a quality in Imaizumi’s voice and deliberately formal wording that Onoda didn’t like— it was a little too blank, a little too detached, particularly after his emotional outbursts earlier that day.

Onoda didn’t like to think of himself as an untrustworthy person, but something— perhaps concern— nagged at him, compelling him to deliberately go against Imaizumi’s wishes. He continued down the corridor only until the first corner and, once he’d gone around it and was certain he was out of sight, leaned back against the wall to listen.

The first voice to speak up was Kawada’s and he seemed nervous.“S-sorry, but I... I just wanted to stop by to... make sure he’s okay--”

“He’s sleeping,” Imaizumi said, and Onoda’s breath caught at the utterly frigid tone of his voice.

“O-oh. Maybe I should come back later, then? How is he?”

“He’s fine—“

“Thank god,” came Kawada’s reply, his voice shaking slightly with obvious relief. “I was worried that—“

“What I meant is that he’s fine for someone who just received an injury that could have been fatal if the Hogwarts infirmary staff had been any less efficient,” Imaizumi said. “What. Did you think I was going to say ‘he’s fine’ and leave it at that?”

Kawada’s next response was delayed, as if he was forced to pause and regroup in the face of Imaizumi’s unsympathetic response. “Okay, yeah,” he said eventually. “I know... I get that you guys are friends and you have every right to be mad at me, I know that. That’s why I wanted to apologize in the first—”

“I can’t really speak for Naruko, but your apology is worth less than nothing to me.” Imaizumi said, cutting him off before he could finish. “Even ignoring the fact that Naruko and I are not friends, do you really think I see your half-hearted apology as anything more than a way of freeing yourself from your own guilt?”

“But if he’s okay--”

“He still could have died,” Imaizumi hissed. “Saying you didn’t mean it won’t change that.”

“Look, I panicked and I made a mistake!” Kawada protested, his voice a quiet hiss that Onoda had to strain to hear. “I feel fucking awful about it, okay? Why the fuck are you getting on my case about it in the first place, since you’re not his teammate and apparently not his friend, either?”

“Because I think Quidditch should be played properly,” Imaizumi said, voice dripping with a venom that belied his matter-of-fact wording. “If you can’t win without breaking the rules then you should really be asking yourself whether you deserve to be playing at all. You disgraced yourself and our team today, and you should be ready to take responsibility for that.”

Onoda couldn’t hear anything distinct after that for several seconds, but he jumped when Kawada unexpectedly ran past him, seemingly without even noticing Onoda was there. It took only a moment for Onoda to realize that if Kawada had passed by then Imaizumi would in all likelihood soon be following, but it was a moment too long.

Imaizumi turned the corner, and his eyes locked with Onoda’s.

Imaizumi’s expression was drawn and tense, the shadows in the corridor throwing shadows onto his features and turning his face into one that Onoda barely recognized. And while it would have shamed Onoda to admit it, for a brief instant he was almost afraid of this cold-eyed stranger.

The moment soon passed, however, and Onoda was once again faced with the Imaizumi he knew: pale and drawn and off-balance, like he wasn’t entirely sure what he was should be doing without a broom in his hand. He seemed especially out of it now, obviously caught off-guard to have run into Onoda.

“Sakamichi,” Imaizumi said, and his probing gaze and the fact that he seemed at a loss as to what to say next made Onoda wonder if he suspected that Onoda had been listening in on his conversation with Kawada.

If Imaizumi asked him, or god forbid was angry with him about it, Onoda honestly didn’t know whether he would be able to tell the truth or not. He was sick of all the lies and secrets that he’d been steadily accumulating lately, but neither was he sure Imaizumi would respond well to having that particular conversation spied on.

Imaizumi, however, took the choice out of his hands when he turned away after only a few short moments of indecision began to once more make his way down the corridor.

Onoda hurried to follow.

The silence between them was tense, and for the first time in forever, Onoda had no idea what to say to break it. The discordant sounds of their footsteps in the dim hallway for once spoke not of companionability, but instead only seemed to highlight the worlds of distance between them.

Shunsuke Imaizumi is a pureblood.

Of course Onoda hadn’t forgotten that first conversation with Miki the night he was sorted, but it he supposed he had always kind of… taken it for granted that, as a pureblood, Imaizumi had been raised much differently from him or Naruko.

Somewhere along the line Onoda must have misunderstood something. Maybe he had taken Tooji Kanzaki’s assurances that there was nothing inherently superior about purebloods above mixed or muggle-born wizards to mean that there were actually no significant differences at all between them. Or maybe he was aware of what separated pureblood from other wizards, but had convinced himself that Imaizumi was somehow separate from that— better, maybe.

Imaizumi was Onoda’s friend— one of his very best and closest friends. This much was undeniable. Imaizumi was terse and awkward and talented and way too cool to hang around with someone like him, but he did so anyways, like it didn’t even matter to him that he was lowering himself and could do so much better. Imaizumi had always been a good friend to him.

But despite how much Imaizumi may have resented his pureblood family and upbringing, Onoda could no longer deny that he saw both in Imaizumi with undeniable clarity.

“Have you finished your paper on the use of Mandrake in potions yet?” Imaizumi asked, his voice deliberately casual.

Onoda blinked at the forced subject change. “Ah… no, I haven’t,” he admitted.

“It’s due on Monday, you know.”

“Yeah, I knew that,” Onoda said, finding it vaguely surreal to be having such an ordinary-seeming conversation when Potions homework was obviously the last thing on either of their minds. But Imaizumi had asked, so there wasn’t much else for Onoda to do but play along—it was better than the silence, at least. “I was having trouble with the historical applications… the section on Mandrake in One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi didn’t talk about anything we didn’t learn about in class, so—“

“You’ll need to do more research than that for a second year paper. I found some good books in the library when I was working on mine. I could show them to you if you’d like.”

There was a note in Imaizumi’s voice that was as tense as a razor wire, and Onoda was very much aware of the fact that his focus was being deliberately directed away from what had happened between Imaizumi and Kawada in the corridor.

Onoda knew that he shouldn’t ignore what he’d overheard for both his own good as well as for Imaizumi’s, but it had been a terrible day to round off what amounted to an already terrible month, and the impassive lines of Imaizumi’s face and closed expression told Onoda that any fight he started with Imaizumi would be a fight he would lose.

And Onoda was exhausted, so against his better judgement he decided to let it go just this once.

“Okay, thank-you,” Onoda said. “I’d really appreciate it.”

Chapter Text

“I think it looks pretty good…”

“What? Hey, that’s awesome! Now—“

“For a terrible daytime radio-drama adaptation of Merlin’s life story,” Imaizumi interrupted, slapping the parchment down on the table. “You can’t tell me that this all came from the textbook. Did you even do the readings?”

“I read… some of them. And everyone already knows Merlin’s story anyways so what was even the point?” Naruko said mulishly. “I’m sure it’s mostly the same as the textbook.”

Imaizumi sighed, lip twisting in derision as he looked over Naruko’s paper one more time. “The only thing that you got correct on this whole paper was the spelling of Merlin’s name.”

“Come on, asshole, I’m being serious.”

“So am I,” Imaizumi said. “Look here… you state that ‘Merlin, after escaping persecution of at the hands of his muggle enemies finally eloped with Bébhinn, the love of his life….’”

Naruko snatched back the offending document, scowling as he read it over again. “So? I don’t get—“

“Bébhinn was the name of Merlin’s horse, you idiot,” Imaizumi said witheringly. “His. Horse.”

Naruko opened and closed his mouth once in indignation before his expression of affront melted into one of reluctant thoughtfulness. “That…” Naruko said, “might actually explain a few of the more… confusing and worrisome parts later on in the book.”

“I’d imagine it would,” Imaizumi said, massaging his temples. “Do some fact-checking—and for god’s sake read the book properly this time— then rewrite your essay and maybe if you’re lucky you’ll still be able to scrape together a passing grade for this course.”

“Jeeze, you don’t have to be so rude about it,” Naruko huffed, although he did at least deign to pull his textbook out and flip to the relevant pages, staring gloomily down at the tiny text.

“You should be grateful I’m even looking your homework over for you in the first place,” Imaizumi shot back, utterly unsympathetic. “I can’t believe this is the sort of garbage you hand in on a regular basis.”

“Fuck you, hotshot. Not all of us can be no-life nerds like you— cool people like us have too many better things to spend time on than homework, right Sakamichi?”

“Wait, what?” Onoda asked, jarred back into reality at the sound of his name. He had been drifting in and out of the conversation for several minutes, hearing the words but not really registering their meaning so he was taken aback at being addressed so abruptly.

“Don’t throw Sakamichi under the bus just because your work ethic is pathetic,” Imaizumi said. “At least he seems to be actually putting some thought into his essay.”

Truthfully, Onoda hadn’t been— rather, he had been attempting to sift through his own mental quagmire of problems under the guise of working on his own assignment while his two friends were otherwise occupied. He had managed only a measly two lines of his assignment in the last hour.

“Uh… yeah,” Onoda said sheepishly. “I’m actually not having much luck with mine right now? I guess I’ve just been… distracted.”

“Oh yeah!” Naruko said, turning to Onoda with a savage gleam in his eyes. “The Hufflepuff versus Slytherin match is tomorrow, right? Come on, Sakamichi, you have to win it for me! If you don’t make the final who’s going to finally succeed in wiping that ugly smirk off hotshot’s face?”

“Don’t pressure him, idiot,” Imaizumi said. “Let him focus on this game before you go making demands of him for the final.”

Quidditch was, for a variety of reasons, pretty much the last topic that Onoda wanted to discuss with his friends at the moment, but since it was Imaizumi and Naruko it was inevitable that it would be brought up eventually.

Imaizumi hadn’t been treating Naruko any differently after the ill-fated Ravenclaw versus Gryffindor match— not really. The constant bickering was still present and Imaizumi would be quick to snap back a stinging insult if he was provoked, but it was only during the quiet moments that Onoda noticed that something had changed.

Whereas before Imaizumi and Naruko had practically made ignoring each other an art form when they were occupied with something else, Imaizumi would now steal occasional glances in Naruko’s direction when he was sure he wouldn’t be spotted. He looked vaguely annoyed as he did so and for awhile Onoda had wondered if something was bothering him and he was looking to start another argument, but he never did, and would quickly turn his attention back to his own work like nothing had happened.

As far as changes went this one didn’t seem particularly sinister to Onoda, but he couldn’t help worrying about what it might mean nonetheless.

Of course, now that the conversation had turned toward Quidditch Naruko chose that exact moment to interject with a topic that Onoda had been desperately hoping to avoid.

“Anyways, I hear Kawada quit your team, hotshot— what the hell happened there?” he asked. “You won all your games so far so what does he even have to complain about?”

Imaizumi hesitated for only a fraction of a second before answering, but to Onoda that moment felt like an eternity.

“I don’t know. Maybe he just couldn’t handle the pressure,” Imaizumi replied, not even bothering to look up from his assignment. His tone remained largely indifferent, but Onoda detected an undercurrent of something in his voice that chilled him to the bone.

“Huh,” Naruko said absentmindedly, obviously not noticing anything out of the ordinary with this answer. “Too bad for your team though— having to choose and train a new Beater halfway through the season and all. That might screw with your chances in the final, hotshot.”

“It’s not so bad,” Imaizumi said, his tone utterly dismissive. “There are plenty of good flyers in Ravenclaw who’d be more than happy to take over.”

Onoda averted his eyes, suddenly incredibly uncomfortable with this conversation for reasons he didn’t know if he was capable of articulating.

“You know, I’m actually feeling pretty tired,” Onoda said, beginning to roll up his barely-started essay with clumsy fingers. “I’m thinking maybe I should try sleeping a bit earlier tonight, if that’s alright with you two.”

Naruko pouted at him. “Aww, Sakamichi, you’re going to leave me here alone with him? Well, I guess you have a big day tomorrow and all but really?”

“I’m not exactly thrilled you’re here either. Maybe I’ll just leave too,” Imaizumi said snippily, although Onoda suspected that he had no intention whatsoever of following through on that. “But I agree Sakamichi, you should probably get some rest. You're looking a bit pale these days.”

“I… really?” Onoda asked. “I guess I… hadn’t really noticed. As I was saying, I’ve had a lot to think about lately though, so….”

“I’d imagine,” Imaizumi said, and Onoda thought that Imaizumi almost seemed to regard him with something almost like caution. It wasn’t outright suspicion, just a vague sort of wariness, and he couldn’t help but wonder if it had anything to do with his overhearing Imaizumi’s argument with Kawada in the Infirmary corridor that night. “Well, don’t let me keep you, then,” Imaizumi said, turning back to his own work. “Sleep well.”

“See you at breakfast tomorrow,” Naruko said. “Don’t worry, this time you’ll have the great Shoukichi Naruko cheering you on so your victory is assured, got it?”

“Yeah, thanks,” Onoda said, chuckling weakly. “Goodnight.”

After he left his friends to their own devices— Imaizumi, as Onoda had guessed, making no move to leave— Onoda made for the quickest route to the Hufflepuff dormitories off the Great Hall. Although he might not have been telling his friends everything that was preoccupying him at the moment, he had indeed been truthful when he’d told them he was tired and wanted to sleep. He wanted to spend as much time as possible between that moment and the inevitable confrontation with either his team (if he quit) or Toudou (if he didn’t) in blissful unconsciousness.

And almost predictably, immediately ran into the very last person he wanted to see.

“Still trying your best, Sakamichi?” Machimiya asked, something like not entirely unlike a smile spreading across his face. His position against the wall was relaxed, and Onoda privately wondered how long he had been waiting there for him to pass by.

Onoda instinctively cringed, but he tried his best not to let his fear show in his stance or expression. “Um, yes,” he said quickly, attempting to brush past him. “Sorry, I have somewhere I need to be, and I don’t have—“

“Hey Sakamichi, what do you think of me?” Machimiya asked suddenly.

“What do I…?”

“Do you think I’m stupid, is that it?”

“I… no….”

Machimiya, alarmingly, laughed, slapping Onoda’s back companionably. “Don’t look so worried, Sakamichi, “I was just joking, you know.”

“Oh…” Onoda said, off-balance and utterly at a loss as to how to reply to that.

“I was wondering about something though, Sakamichi,” Machimiya continued thoughtfully. “If you don’t think I’m stupid, then maybe it’s just that you don’t believe me when I tell you just how badly outmatched your team is against ours? To be perfectly honest I can’t believe you still haven’t made way for someone else to be Seeker instead. Are you that reckless or do you just not realize who you’re up against?”

“I—“

“You know, Jinpachi Toudou didn’t lose any matches at all last year,” Machimiya said. “Don’t you think that’s impressive?”

“Yes… it really is,” Onoda said. “But I really don’t—

“Ah, come on. I just want to know why you haven’t quit yet. It’s a simple enough question, hmm?”

Even in this situation, Onoda couldn’t help but privately agree with Machimiya’s cutting remarks. He wasn’t a match for Toudou, not even close, and his team would undoubtedly be better off if they replaced Onoda with someone more talented.

But it was a good question— why hadn’t he quit? Hadn’t he been telling himself all this time that he would quit before he had to face Toudou. Why hadn’t he done it yet?

Maybe, despite all the trouble it had caused, all the fear and every doubt he had suffered in the course of trying to learn to fly well enough to make the Quidditch team and finally being appointed Seeker…

He actually didn’t want to leave?

“I… I don’t— Onoda began, but that was as far as he got before he was interrupted by the sound of someone approaching, and Machimiya stiffened, as if in fear of being caught speaking to Onoda.

“Machimiya,” a voice drawled, and Onoda, instead of being relieved at the interruption, only felt his heart rate increase.

He recognized that voice— he’d certainly been shouted at by that voice enough in the past. Turning, he recognized the sharp features and hostile glare of Yasutomo Arakita, who was possibly one of the only people at Hogwarts who had an even lower opinion of Onoda than Machimiya did.

Clearly Onoda had no luck whatsoever.

“I thought I noticed the smell of something rotten coming from this direction, Machimiya,” Arakita continued, baring his teeth in a grin that was more of a snarl. “What brings you out this way, huh?”

Machimiya paused, and for a second he looked almost nervous, his confident appearance faltering before he recovered himself. “Well, I have heard stories about that canine nose of yours,” he said blithely, although there was a newly guarded quality in his eyes. “Nice to know there’s some truth in the gossip. Did you track me all the way here?”

“Nah, I just happened to be in the area,” Arakita said, scratching his cheek nonchalantly. His gaze fell on Onoda and Onoda flinched, expecting him to yell or offer harsh commentary on his distressed state, but his eyes only lingered on him for a second before they snapped back to their initial target. “And now since I’m here, would you mind explaining to me what business you have with our Seeker?”

“Ah… nothing really,” Machimiya said.

“It didn’t look like like nothing,” Arakita said, voice deceptively friendly, but Onoda could sense a bite lurking just below the surface.

“I was just wishing Sakamichi here luck for our match tomorrow.”

“How pleasant,” Arakita said, although his expression was anything but. “And also how totally not like you, Machimiya. Come on, you don’t really expect me to believe that?”

Machimiya played innocent. “I have no idea what you’re implying--”

“Oh for fuck’s sake, just save it,” Arakita snapped, immediately dropping all pretences at civility. “I know what you’re doing, and it’s not going to work. You’re just going to have to try your best to win our match the normal way, because there’s no way you’re going to get our Seeker to drop out with those clumsy attempts at manipulation.”

Manipulation? Drop out? What was Arakita talking about?

Machimiya stuttered out a laugh. “You sound so sure of that,” he said, somewhat breathlessly, although he didn’t bother to deny Arakita’s accusation. “What makes you think he won’t?”

“Because our Seeker’s made out of stronger stuff than that,” Arakita said, and Onoda’s own breath caught in his throat at the confidence in his voice. “Wouldn’t have wasted my time with him if he wasn’t. So take a hike if you know what’s good for you, Machimiya, or I’ll make sure that Juichi hears all about this.”

Onoda could barely believe what he was hearing-- it was too surreal. Was Arakita lying to save face in front of Machimiya, or had Onoda happened to fall into some sort of parallel universe where Arakita inexplicably didn’t hate him? Because the way Arakita was talking, it almost sounded like—

“Look at you, such a tame wolf now, aren’t you?”

Arakita grinned, showing all his teeth. “Do you really want to test that? This is your last chance to leave before I kick your ass.”

Machimiya looked like he was going to say something, but he hesitated. “Whatever,” said eventually, the last remnants of his pleasant facade falling away as he cast a look of pure loathing in Onoda and Arakita’s direction. “If you’re still so determined to pin all your hopes on some useless mudblood it’s all the better for us--”

Arakita’s wand was out in an instant and before Onoda could blink he was pointing the tip at Machimiya and snarling, “Langlock!”

Machimiya’s hands flew to his mouth and he began making a string of unintelligible furious noises, and it took Onoda a moment to clue in that it wasn’t that Machimiya wasn’t trying to say something, but rather that he couldn’t.

What had Arakita done to him?

“I’d watch my mouth if I were you,” Arakita said dangerously, pocketing his wand as Machimiya shot him a look of pure murder and Onoda stared on with eyes widened by shock. “Don’t worry, the spell should wear off eventually—I wouldn’t place bets on anyone liking the sound of your voice to take it off before then. Just get out of my sight.”

Machimiya, seething, shot Arakita a rude hand gesture but— to Onoda’s amazement— did as he was told and disappeared down the corridor.

Onoda could do little more than stare blankly at his saviour for several long moments, trying to sort through a myriad of confused thoughts. Everything he knew about Arakita and everything that had just happened were at complete odds with each other in his mind, and he found he no longer knew which ones to believe in.

He had so many questions, but he decided to start with the most obvious one.

“What, um….”

“What’s that, four-eyes?” Arakita snapped. “Jesus fuck, haven’t I told you enough times to speak up?”

Onoda swallowed, his throat dry. It seemed like Arakita had not, perhaps, changed from Onoda’s initial perception quite as much as he thought. “What did you… do to him?”

“Ehh,” Arakita shrugged. “Just stuck his tongue to the roof of his mouth. It’s useful for shutting people up.”

“Was it… was it really necessary though?” Onoda felt compelled to ask. “I mean, he was leaving already, and now if he tells any of the professors that you did it you’ll get in trouble. Isn’t that--”

“Look kid, it probably won’t come as a fucking shock to you that I don’t have much of a problem with bad language,” Arakita said sharply, “but there are a few insults out there that I won’t let go if I hear them. The professors can kiss my ass— he had it coming.”

Onoda frowned, searching his memory. “What did he say? Wait, was it… was it ‘mudbloo--’”

“Don’t you go fucking saying it now!” Arakita snapped, rounding on Onoda, fire in his dark eyes. “Do you want me to hex you?”

“N-no,” Onoda stuttered, taking an involuntary step backward.

“I didn’t think so, so don’t fucking say it. Jesus.”

“What does it mean though?” Onoda asked eventually, sensing that no answer was forthcoming. “I’ve never heard it before.”

“You’ve been lucky then,” Arakita snorted, but he didn’t seem to be angry with Onoda’s question in particular. “You must have had much better friends than me in your first year, I guess. It’s a slur some people use to describe someone magical who was born from muggle parents-- it means ‘dirty blood.’ It means disgusting, or… I don’t know impure or some shit? Who even cares, I hate that word, fuck.”

Onoda’s eyes widened as he realized something. “Arakita, sir… are you a muggle born? Like… like me?”

Arakita narrowed his eyes. “I’ve already told you not to call me ‘sir,’ but whatever. And no, I’m not a muggle born, but I can still understand how much it blows to be treated as less than human because of something you can’t help.”

“Oh. Is that… is that why you helped me?” Onoda asked.

Arakita shrugged noncommittally. “Not exactly.”

“Then why?”

“You’re weirdly demanding this evening,” Arakita said, although once again he sounded significantly less annoyed than Onoda might have expected him to be. “Still can’t figure out why you didn’t make more of a fuss when this whole thing with Machimiya started, though. Don’t you know what they say about Hufflepuffs, four-eyes?”

“N-no…” Onoda replied, a bit startled by the apparent change in subject.

“They say we’re a bunch of old duffers,” Arakita said, mouth twisting in contempt. “We’re supposed to be fair and hard-working and loyal and all that bullshit, which in some dumbfucks’ minds seems to translate to cheerful doormats who’ll bend over backward if it means we’ll be able to avoid a confrontation. But that’s not what we really are. You know what that is?’’

“What?”

“We’re people who look after our own, that’s what,” Arakita said, poking Onoda harshly between the clavicles. “So the next time someone takes it into their head to pick on you, come see me and I’ll send them packing. If they’re messing with you, they’re messing with all of us, got it?”

“B-but you don’t have to! I mean… if the problem is with me, then--”

“Holy fuck, four-eyes, do you actually think any of this is about you?”

“But Machimiya was right— it’s my fault you lost our first match,” Onoda said, the heat rushing to his face as he admitted his shame. “If I’d been better, then--”

“Then nothing,” Arakita said in disbelief, shutting down Onoda’s protests with a distinct tone of finality. “Are you fucking kidding me? Do you think you’re the first Seeker to lose a match, or did you just assume you’d be perfect on your first try? You’re still a hundred years too early to be that cocky.”

Onoda flushed darker in embarrassment. He supposed that when it was phrased that way it did sound a little bit self-centered to be thinking like that, but….

“And second,” Arakita continued, listing off on his fingers, “So what if you messed up in a Quidditch match or you were born with muggle parents? If you hadn’t been vulnerable in either of those ways then they would have just found something else to hurt to you with.”

“W-what?”

“It’s a tactic that some Slytherins are particularly fond of,” Arakita said, “taking out the competition by breaking them down mentally. Physical violence isn’t usually much of their thing but psychological warfare sure as fuck is. They’ll find your faults-- find where you’re weak--and pick at it until you give in. That’s all that Machimiya was doing. It was just a stupid strategy to rattle you or get you to quit before we play them tomorrow, Jesus Christ. He probably tries that with all of his opponents, not just you.”

“But how can you know for sure?”

“Trust me, I know. I had someone try try to pull the same thing on me a few years back.”

“Really?” Onoda asked, surprised. He hadn’t meant to say it, but the word slipped out before he could stop himself. The thought of someone terrifying and strong like Arakita being bullied was… absurd.

(And, despite the fact that it wasn’t his place to think of such things, he also couldn’t help but wonder what the ‘weak spot’ Arakita had shown was.)

“Yeah,” Arakita continued, apparently unconcerned, “but he’s long gone now though, so it’s nothing to worry about.”

“What did you do?”

“Hah? What do you mean what did I do?” Arakita asked.

“Oh, uh…. sorry. Onoda said quickly, backpedaling. “I meant to ask how you… dealt with it, I guess?”

“Oh? What do you think I did?”

Onoda stared. “I don’t--”

“I ripped his fucking head off is what, and that’s why no one messes with me anymore,” Arakita said, giving Onoda a shove in the direction of the Hufflepuff dormitories, causing him to stumble forward several feet before he caught himslef. “Go to bed, four-eyes, and for fuck’s sake don’t stay up all night thinking about the bullshit that reject was spewing. If you’re dozing off during the match tomorrow I swear I will fucking end you, got it?”

“O-okay,” Onoda said, heart hammering and more than a little bewildered. He retained the presence of mind to understand, however, that for some unfathomable reason Arakita had been looking out for him in his own brusque way, and some form of gratitude was in order. “Thank you, sir… Arakita, I mean.”

“Pfft. Whatever.”

Onoda continued his way down the corridor, reflecting on how amusing it was that he could now associate Yasutomo Arakita with feelings of relief rather than fear for his very life. It seemed like Arakita wasn’t actually as bad as Onoda had thought he was? Or maybe they had just needed time to get used to each other. One way or another, it seemed like Onoda had far less to fear from Arakita than he could have guessed, and a part of him was almost grateful that he had run into Machimiya that night just so he could learn that surprising fact.

In addition, Onoda suspected that he wouldn’t have much to fear from Machimiya anymore, and that knowledge was incredibly comforting.

Although, Onoda thought grimly, frowning as he tapped out the correct rhythm on the stack of barrels that concealed the entrance to the Hufflepuff dorms, his mind had made another— and significantly less pleasant— connection following his final encounter with Machimiya. If he was being honest with himself, his conversation with Arakita had been illuminating to him for reasons beyond explaining Machimiya’s behaviour.

Onoda was torn, and he desperately wanted to believe that he was reading too much into things, but there was a niggling worry in the back of his mind nonetheless. Imaizumi had been angry when he’d talked to Kawada in the infirmary corridor after the match where Naruko had been injured, and it was understandable that he felt that way. It would make sense if his emotions had gotten the best of him and he had ended up things he didn’t mean.

There was no proof that it was because of Imaizumi that Kawada quit the team, after all.

And even if by some small chance it was his doing, it wasn’t like Imaizumi would have manipulated Kawada to that end on purpose. He wasn’t that sort of person. Imaizumi wasn’t cruel— Onoda knew very well how much he cared about people. He was kind. He helped Onoda with his classes and, although he didn’t make it obvious, looked out for Naruko in small ways as well, quietly anticipating problems they might encounter and smoothing them over without comment or any desire for acknowledgement.

But when Onoda saw the way Imaizumi had taken to watching Naruko, like he might vanish into thin air if he wasn’t checking up on him regularly, and he couldn’t help but wonder if that wasn’t the root of the problem. Because when it came down to it, Onoda knew Imaizumi cared for both him and Naruko, but he ultimately had no proof as to whether or not this care extended to people beyond his immediate circle of friends. Particularly people beyond his immediate circle of friends who had been complicit in harming one of those friends, even if it was completely by accident. Maybe that would explain the strange sort of satisfaction that Onoda could have sworn he’d heard in Imaizumi’s voice after Naruko had asked why Kawada had quit.

But Imaizumi seemed to be back to his old self in every way that mattered now, so maybe Onoda was just reading too much into it— he was on edge already, after all. Maybe it was all in his head, and he was the only one who couldn’t let it go for some reason.

Onoda reached his bed and sank down heavily onto it, only to be met by the sound of paper crinkling and something considerably less soft than his mattress beneath him.

Curious, Onoda retrieved the object he had sat on. It was unremarkable in appearance, just a small package wrapped in brown paper with a small note attached with a piece if brown string. It looked a lot like the packages the owls delivered to students every morning at breakfast, but Onoda hadn’t ever received a parcel at Hogwarts and he had no idea why it had appeared on his bed rather than with the rest of the mail.

Onoda picked up the note first. There was no name or return address, just two sentences in a spidery hand, which read:

When you win, praise yourself. When you lose, blame the equipment.

Mystified, Onoda peeled back the paper, revealing a velvet-covered, rectangular box. He opened the lid carefully to reveal a pair of what appeared to be some sort of goggles nestled into a soft satin cushion. They were simple and sturdy-looking, the round lenses made of thick glass and secured in place with brass fixtures and soft leather straps.

His throat tightened. He picked up the goggles and turned them over in his hands carefully, as if they were impossibly fragile or might vanish if he was too rough with them— which was ridiculous, they looked more than capable of taking a few hits. When he finally worked up the courage to remove his glasses and hold the goggles in front of his face, he received confirmation for what he had already begun to suspect.

They were his exact prescription. He could see perfectly well in them, and he knew that it would take more than a single wayward Bludger to knock these off his face in the middle of a match.

There was no other message to indicate who the sender might have been beside the cryptic note attached to the outside of the package, and Onoda was baffled at who would have bought such a thoughtful gift for him. And there wasn’t any point to giving him something like this in the first place, unless….

Unless someone was showing him that he was being given a second chance.

Onoda’s eyes felt suspiciously watery as he tucked the goggles back into their case and placed the box gently into an empty corner of his trunk. He briefly worried that he’d end up bawling his eyes out in the middle of the quiet dormitory, but after wiping his eyes once with the sleeve of his robe he felt the urge to cry diminish.

In fact, when he opened his eyes again, he felt the furthest away from crying that he had in a long time.

Imaizumi and Naruko, the rest of the Hufflepuff team, and in a way even Eikichi Machimiya believed that Onoda had the potential to do well in this match. Which meant that really, all along the only person who had really been doubting him was… himself.

Who cared if Toudou was out to get him. Who cared if Machimiya said he didn’t have what it takes to be a good Seeker. Who cared if he was just a beginner who was in way over his head.

Onoda’s team had placed their trust in him, and this time he wouldn’t let them down.

***

“I like your goggles,” Miki said the next morning as she pulled the straps on her arm guards tight.

There was snow in the forecast for the day, but for the time being the sky was crisp and clear as the Hufflepuff team met in the change room before their match against Slytherin. Amazingly, against all odds Onoda had eventually been able to sleep the previous night and was feeling… not exactly confident, but more positive about the match than he had been before. It wasn’t like he wasn’t afraid of Toudou still, but he no longer entertained the thought of quitting just to avoid confronting him.

“What— oh, thank you,” Onoda said, bringing one hand up to touch the rim of his goggles self-consciously. “I keep on forgetting I’m wearing them… they look okay, though?”

“Yes, they’re very you,” Miki agreed, then threw a devious glance in Makishima’s direction. “You didn’t comment on Sakamichi’s new goggles. What do you think of them, Yuusuke?”

Makishima visibly cringed, offering Onoda a strained smile. “They’re… fine,” he said, resuming the act of adjusting his gear with perhaps unnecessary intensity.

“You didn’t buy them for yourself, did you Sakamichi?” Miki asked innocently.

“No… they just showed up in the dormitory yesterday. I have no idea who bought them for me but I’m really grateful… I wish they’d included a name so I could thank them properly,” Onoda said.

“Don’t worry,” Miki replied cheerfully, clapping Onoda on the shoulder. “I’m sure they already know how much you appreciate the gift.”

Makishima made a vaguely pained sound and Miki smirked. “Anyways,” she continued. “How are you holding up? Are you ready to compete against Toudou?”

Onoda swallowed. Truth be told he doubted he’d ever be ready for that, but he had already had countless opportunities to run away and he wasn’t going to this time.

“I think so?” he said. “I’ll do my best, at least….”

“That’s all we can ask for then,” Makishima said, apparently shaking off whatever had been bothering him before. “And it’s not like you’ll be alone out there either— we’ll be doing our best to rack up the score enough that Slytherin can’t beat us even if Toudou does catch the Snitch.”

“Exactly!” Miki exclaimed. “You can count on us, Sakamichi— we’ve got your back!”

“Congratulations, that was the most utterly nauseating display I’ve seen from this team yet,” Arakita observed snidely from his seat on the a few feet away. “I feel embarrassed to be in the same room as you losers.”

“Don’t worry, Yasutomo, we all know that’s just your way of showing affection,” Izumida stage-whispered in Arakita’s general direction.

“Fuck you, Eyelashes!”

“Sounds like you’re in a pretty good mood today,” Izumida said unaffectedly. “Anything in particular bring that on?”

Arakita gave a toothy grin. “I’m always ready to beat the shit out of Slytherin, you know that.”

“And it has nothing at all to do with the fact that we’re playing Fukutomi…”

“You shut up! I’ll fight you!”

Izumida snickered but relented, allowing Arakita to retreat, fuming.

For the first time, in the changer before the start of their second game, Onoda found himself actually feeling like a real member of the team.

It was a good feeling.

The Hufflepuff team exited the change room and made their way onto the pitch to thunderous applause from the stands. Onoda blinked several times, partially in attempt to clear the spots from his eyes caused by the sudden brightness and partially in surprise at just how many supporters Hufflepuff seemed to have in the stands. He had forgotten to take into account the fact that not only other Hufflepuffs, but also the majority of other Hogwarts students would support anyone who was playing against Slytherin.

On the one hand, it was reassuring to have so much support. On the other hand, it added pressure to an already high-stakes situation for Onoda.

He had the team’s support though. Hopefully, that would be enough.

Onoda got to his position on the pitch, behind where the Chasers were beginning to gather in the centre. The green-clad Slytherins— who had entered from the far side of the pitch—began to organize themselves as well, and any second now, Jinpachi Toudou would be taking up his position across from Onoda as the opposing Seeker.

Toudou, when Onoda finally caught sight of him, was wearing his customary headband and a singularly smug grin, which only widened when he noticed that Onoda and Makishima were watching him.

He then, very deliberately, stepped into the centre of the field.

The space reserved for the starting Chaser, and not the Seeker.

Onoda was confused and looked to Makishima for clarification, but Makishima’s expression was stunned.

“What are you up to this time, Jinpachi?” Makishima asked warily.

“See, Maki-Maki,” Toudou said, smiling smugly as he deliberately ignored Mamishima’s question. “You’re not the only one who can switch Quidditch positions behind their rival’s back.”

“You--”

“I’m a Chaser now, too!” Toudou exclaimed, clearly unable to hold it in any longer. “You know what this means, right— we can finally face-off against each other the way we were always meant to! I figured that if you won’t face me as a Seeker anymore, then we’ll do it as Chasers!”

“I’m… happy for you?” Makishima said helplessly. “But Jinpachi, you’re Slytherin’s Seeker— fuck,” he said, in an uncharacteristic show of vehemence. “You’re probably Slytherin’s best Seeker in well over a decade. I can’t believe that you would throw that all away… throw it all away on some whim—”

Toudou frowned, cocking his head in confusion. “What do you mean, ‘a whim’? I thought long and hard about this, you know, Maki, and I decided that being a Seeker just wasn’t appealing anymore if I couldn’t go up against you. And it’s not like anything I could say would make you go back to being Seeker, so becoming a Chaser was the only thing I could do.”

“I cannot believe that the rest of your team is crazy enough to go along with this. This is literally the worst idea I’ve ever heard from you, and I think that should tell you something.”

“So you say, but convincing the team was actually easy, if you must know,” Toudou said in a flippant tone. “I just had to prove that I can be as valuable as a Chaser as I was a Seeker and find and train a new Seeker to replace me, all of which I did. I don’t understand why you’re so skeptical, Maki— after all, I didn’t do anything you didn’t do first.”

Ignoring the obvious jab, Makishima pressed, “And your new Seeker? What poor soul did you drag along with you on this crazy scheme?”

Toudou’s smile showed teeth.

“I’m so happy you asked,” he said cheerfully. “He’s a lucky find, really. Once the team saw his flying I barely even had to work to convince them to accept my idea. He’s a bit… ah, undisciplined still, but I think he’ll be more than a match for your bespectacled prodigy.”

Toudou beckoned over another green-clad Slytherin player, and to Onoda it seemed as if time slowed down when he recognized the glossy blue sheen of dark hair and the way that familiar smile curled over pale lips.

Onoda breathed deeply, wondering if the air had gotten thinner for everyone or just for him.

“This is Sangaku Manami,” Toudou said, sounding downright gleeful. “And I’m afraid that soon he’ll be leaving your little Seeker behind in the dust.”

Chapter Text

“Sangaku,” Onoda choked, the word slipping out of its own volition.

Manami’s eyes met his and he felt like he would die, drowning in that inimitable shade of blue.

“Sakamichi,” Manami said, inclining his head in greeting, a graceful motion that sent his hair spilling over his shoulder in a very distracting way and destroyed any chance of Onoda being able to come up with a coherent reply. His throat was tight and at the moment he doubted he could even manage so much as a croak.

Had Manami always been so… so much? Onoda still saw him in classes sometimes, but every time felt like the first in an age. Today especially he was positively radiant, lithe and carelessly beautiful in his green and silver Quidditch robes in a way that sent Onoda’s heart pounding and made him feel vaguely sick.

A small smile snuck onto Manami’s face as the seconds ticked away and Onoda utterly failed to come up with an appropriate follow-up to having pathetically squeaked out Manami’s name.

“It looks like we really have nothing to talk about when we’re not talking about flying, hmm?” Manami chuckled, finally breaking the silence.

“Haha… yeah, maybe,” Onoda managed to laugh weakly. His mind was overflowing with questions, and this entire scenario seemed like something that might have been dredged up from a dream. Too many things failed to line up with what Onoda already knew and had been expecting, and if Makishima’s expression of stupefied disbelief was any indication, he wasn’t the only one taken by surprise by this turn of events. “But even then all the times we talked you… you never said you played Quidditch,” Onoda said, hoping it didn’t come out too breathlessly.

Calm down, Sakamichi, he ordered himself. It’s just Manami— you know Manami, don’t you? There’s an explanation for this… somewhere….

It would be so much easier to think this through if his mind didn’t feel so sluggish.

Manami’s smile took on a mischievous edge. “I thought you’d guess, to be honest. Jinpachi was clear that I wasn’t supposed to talk to anyone about being on the team or that I was getting extra training from him or especially that I was being considered for Seeker once I mentioned to him that Yuusuke Makishima was training you as his replacement and he ended up crying and locking himself alone in the dormitories for hours—“

“Instructions that still stand now, you wretched little hellion,” Toudou interrupted, barging in between them and cuffing Manami on the ear. “Now go line up now unless you want this to be your last match as well as your first.”

“Alright, alright,” Manami laughed, shaking Toudou off before doing as he was instructed and making his way toward his starting spot. “Good luck, Sakamichi,” he said, glancing at Onoda once over his shoulder, the light of a challenge visible in his eye. “I’m looking forward to seeing if you’re as unshakeable as I remember.”

Onoda’s stomach clenched uncomfortably as he returned to his spot on the field. Just as Kanzaki had moved off to unpack the Quidditch balls, however, Makishima came over and tapped him on the shoulder.

“You know this boy, then?” Makishima asked quietly. “This Sangaku Manami?”

Onoda swallowed. “Yes… well, kind of, I guess. I’ve flown with him before and he’s… he’s good.”

Makishima frowned, his expression pinched with what Onoda could only imagine was worry. “He’d have to be, for Toudou to go through with something like this. I can’t tell if this will be a bad thing for us or not yet… normally I would say it’s good that you’ll be playing against a rookie in your own year instead of Toudou, but….” he trailed off.

“…But during practice for the last few weeks I’ve been learning about Toudou’s methods as a Seeker specifically,” Onoda said, dread seeping into his bones as he realized the problem. “And Manami will probably play differently.”

“Exactly,” Makishima said, glancing around nervously. He let out a sigh. “We don’t have nearly enough time for this— the match will be starting any second and I need to get into position— but you say you’ve flown with him before? You know his style?”

“Once,” Onoda said, feeling inwardly embarrassed as he recalled the one and only time he had competed against Manami in their makeshift game of tag the previous year—their game that he had lost. “But it was a long time ago,” Onoda protested. “I’m not sure how well I can remember—“

“It’s okay,” Makishima said quickly. “Just do your best,” he offered Onoda a strained smile. “Kanzaki’s coming back, so just tell me one more thing before the match starts, Sakamichi.”

Onoda frowned, slightly perturbed by the tone the question was asked in. “…Yes, what is it?”

“You… just tell me if you’re going to be alright with playing today,” Makishima said. “And don’t just say you’re fine to make me feel better, you just look a little… I don’t know… off. And not like you’re just nervous, either, it’s something else.”

“Something else?” Onoda asked, confused as to what Makishima might be referring to until the memory of sky blue blue eyes flashed in his mind’s eye and he flushed. “I-I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said, too quickly.

Makishima, obviously not convinced continued, “I don’t want to send you out if I think you’re a hazard to yourself, Sakamichi. If your attention isn’t on the match then—“

“It is, I promise!” Onoda insisted. The idea of someone else playing against Manami was unthinkable. “I’m fine to play,” he said. “And the team is depending on me, I can’t pull out now. I’m a bit nervous, but I’ll be fine as soon as we’re in the air.”

Makishima sighed, scratching his head awkwardly, visibly withdrawing. “They really sprang one on us this time,” he said regretfully. “Toudou caught me totally by surprise, and you’re right, we do need you. If you say you’re fine then I’ll put my trust in you, Sakamichi. Just be careful.”

“Of course,” Onoda said, relieved that the questioning was over. “I’ll do my best!” he added, with an extra dash of enthusiasm.

“You always do, I’ll give you that,” Makishima said with a thin smile as he moved back toward his starting position on the field. “Good luck.”

Onoda swallowed, his mouth becoming noticeably drier as his gaze turned back on Manami, who was standing directly opposite him on the other side of the line.

Concentrate, Onoda mentally chided himself as he took a deep breath to settle his pounding heartbeat. Concentrate on the match.

Unfortunately, concentrating on the match meant he would have to be watching Manami, and that in itself was something of a distraction.

The game began innocently enough, as Kanzaki blew the whistle and the Hufflepuff and Slytherin players took to the skies in a shower of dirt and dead grass. Makishima caught the Quaffle and the struggle to keep possession began in earnest as he flew in the direction of the Slytherin goal.

Unfortunately, Makishima didn’t get far before a Bludger from a Slytherin Beater that Onoda (queasily) recognized as Machimiya stopped Makishima’s advance, which allowed one of the Slytherin Chasers to scoop up the falling Quaffle. The Chaser was immediately closed in on by Arakita and for a second it looked like possession was going to change again, but a shout from Makishima was all the warning the Hufflepuffs received before Toudou, having soundlessly approached from the side, appeared as if from nowhere to assist his teammate.

Right, Onoda remembered from his training sessions with Makishima. Toudou's flying style was nearly silent, and his greatest strength was his ability to make his move without his opponents being aware of it. He was briefly, selfishly grateful that he wouldn’t be facing off against that ability, but it seemed like it might be a problem for the team as a whole even now that Toudou was a Chaser.

The stands erupted in applause and catcalls, and Onoda realized that Toudou had scored. They would be starting off the match with Slytherin in the lead 10-0.

Just as the rest of the team would have their hands full with Fukutomi, Machimiya and Toudou, Onoda would have to find some way of holding out against Manami. For the time being he had yet to make a move, and much like Onoda, was simply hovering above the majority of the action, keeping a sharp eye out for the Snitch.

Onoda tried not to let the knowledge that Manami was in all likelihood keeping as close an eye on Onoda as he was on Manami distract him too much. It was just… refreshing, after having not seen very much of Manami in the past few months.

Come to think of it, the fact that Manami had apparently not been avoiding him at all, and instead merely meeting up with Toudou for Seeker training did actually reassure him a fair amount. He wondered if Manami had missed him as much as he had. Maybe Onoda was even the reason he had decided to join the Slytherin team in the first place. Maybe Manami had also felt the distance between them and had been hoping to fix that by sharing in Onoda’s interests. It made him want to shout, or maybe fly up to Manami and have him look at him again like he had when he’d said Onoda was interesting. Or maybe that was stupid, maybe Manami actually wanted Onoda to prove himself again by doing something amazing, like a trick or—

“Sakamichi, look out!”

Onoda looked up quickly and barely managed to dodge the Bludger that passed by his cheek, close enough that he could feel the air moving over his skin.

“Look alive, Four-Eyes!” Arakita snarled up at him as Onoda attempted to get his heartbeat back under control. “If you get hit again I’m not picking your sorry carcass off—“

“Sakamichi, are you alright?” Makishima interrupted, shooting a displeased look at Arakita as he paused briefly on his way back to the Hufflepuff side of the pitch.

“Uh— yes, I’m sorry,” Onoda said, embarrassed both at having been caught letting his mind wander and the subject of his thoughts. As if he hadn’t learned better last time. “It just startled me, it won’t happen again.”

“It better not,” Arakita said, but he was apparently satisfied enough with this answer because he moved off as well.

Onoda readjusted his grip on his broomstick’s handle, squaring his shoulders as he began to once again search for the Snitch.

It was almost ten minutes later by Onoda’s estimation when the Snitch finally made its first appearance, flitting around the left Ravenclaw goalpost. Onoda spotted it first, taking off with all the speed he could muster, knowing that Manami would be in close pursuit. If Onoda remembered correctly, Manami was beautifully mobile on a broom, and he was more observant than he looked— there was no way Onoda would be able to simply scoop up the Snitch without him noticing.

Sure enough, Onoda hadn’t gotten more than halfway there before the sound of fluttering robes announced the arrival of a newcomer, and within seconds Manami was pulling even with him, shooting a smile in his direction.

“Don’t disappoint me now, Sakamichi,” Manami said, and Onoda’s breath caught in his throat.

“L-let’s both do our best,” Onoda gasped out lamely, and Manami pulled ahead of him with a laugh, the sound echoing like bells on the wind.

Onoda willed his broom to go faster, leaning close to the handle to limit his air resistance as much as possible. He drew even with Manami, barely, but the Snitch was only a few short meters ahead of them. He would need to try something else if he were to get enough of a lead to…

The wind picked up, and suddenly Manami was several feet beyond where he had been before— where he should be now, based on his current course and speed, which nearly made Onoda reel back from shock. Manami was almost within arm’s reach of the Snitch, and if Onoda didn’t do something in time, he would catch it and the game would be over.

Thankfully, Onoda was saved by Miki, who flew by right in front of Manami just as he was preparing to extend his arm, forcing him to stop quickly and take his eyes off the Snitch. She continued on after the Bludger she was chasing, apparently totally unaware that she had just prevented an early end to the match while Onoda almost wilted with relief at his luck. In that brief instant of confusion, the Snitch had taken the opportunity to vanish once again.

As Onoda and a slightly more frustrated Manami began once again circle the pitch, Onoda began wondering about how Manami had managed to beat him to the Snitch so easily. After thinking it over for awhile, Onoda realized that the move shouldn’t have taken him by surprise, because he’d seen it before, during their game of tag in their first year. At that time, also, Onoda had thought he was equal to Manami’s speed, only to be taken by surprise as the other boy somehow managed to evade him. He had never realized how it had happened before, but he was more experienced now than he had been then and after putting together what he remembered of that event with what he had seen today, it suddenly all became clear to him.

It was the wind.

That was the secret to Manami’s sudden speed bursts that seemed to come out of nowhere. Manami must be good— no, beyond simply good, a master at reading the weather and the conditions of the air around him. He knew how to slip through the wind when it was against him, and how to catch it when it was with him to give him a speed advantage. Manami never fought against his circumstances when he flew, he simply went with the flow and waited for the opportune moment to strike.

Onoda would have to do the same if he wanted to stand even the faintest chance of winning.

In the match so far, the score stood at 30-20 for Slytherin. The scores were close, and it was clear that Hufflepuff couldn’t possibly hope to achieve a great enough lead that they wouldn’t require the points received by the team whose Seeker caught the Snitch in order to win. This meant that whether Onoda’s team won or lost really did all came down to him, whatever Makishima or Arakita might say to make him feel better.

After being given so much of their trust, Onoda owed it to them.

When the Snitch finally reappeared, however, Manami was the first to spot it.

Onoda had been scanning over the Hufflepuff side of the field when a movement out of the corner of his eye caught his attention. He whipped around, thinking it might be the Snitch, only to find that it was Manami, who was flying with a vengeance up and toward the middle of the pitch. Seeing him flying that seriously could only mean one thing, and Onoda hurried to pursue him, cursing himself for failing to notice it first. It took everything Onoda had to catch up, but before he could attempt to catch it the situation changed again.

The Snitch went into a dive and both Onoda and Manami, level with each other, followed it without hesitation.

Onoda was found it vaguely fitting that falling like this, with Manami beside him and the ground rushing towards them actually reminded Onoda of the first Quidditch match he had seen, where Makishima and Toudou had plummeted after the Snitch together, locked in a game of chicken to see which one of them would be the first to back down. Onoda’s limbs were cold with fear, but his mind was strangely clear as he continued to pursue the Snitch. Manami glanced at him, perhaps wondering if Onoda was getting nervous and planning to pull out, but his eyes, when they met Onoda’s, were surprised and perhaps a bit wondering. It looked almost as if he wanted to say something, but the moment passed, just a fleeting touch of tranquility before they were both face with the reality of the ground, which was approaching with alarming speed.

Three…

Two…

One…

Onoda hit the ground hard, rolling several feet away from his broom from the shock of the impact before coming to rest face down, his head ringing. He lay there stunned for several long minutes— or possibly it was only seconds— before he became aware of a growing pain in his face. He suspected that he must have managed to slow his fall at least slightly at the last minute, since he was still conscious, but in the confusion he had no idea what had become of either the Snitch or Manami.

Onoda was alerted to the approach of several people by the sound of voices and the thump of running footsteps that steadily grew louder the longer he listened. Not wanting to worry anyone unnecessarily, he raised his head and pulled himself into a sitting position, preparing to assure whoever was approaching that he was alright. He choked on his own words, however when the motion filled his mouth with the taste of copper and caused large droplets of blood to spatter the ground beneath him.

That was… that was a lot of blood. Onoda felt faint as he lifted a hand tentatively to his stinging face.

“Easy, easy, don’t go getting your hands all over it before I get a chance to take a look at you,” Kanzaki chided, kneeling in front of Onoda and tilting his face up with gentle hands. “Looks like the ground— maybe even your broom handle did a bit of a number on your face. Split lip and bloody nose, although not broken from the looks of it. You’re getting off lucky, Sakamichi.”

“Uh, that’s good,” Onoda slurred, not feeling particularly lucky even as Kanzaki withdrew his wand and proceeded to mutter off several spells in quick succession, which instantly made the pain begin to fade to be replaced by a soothing numbness as the injuries healed themselves. Someone else— Onoda wasn’t sure who— set about gently cleaning the blood off his face with steady strokes from her wand.

Meanwhile, Manami had come to a landing as well, alighting on the ground as delicately as a leaf caught on a gentle breeze. Onoda was relieved to see that he was alright, although it made sense that he hadn’t done anything so ugly and amateur as crash his broomstick— he really was a far better flyer than Onoda. His expression, however, was strangely blank as he approached, stopping a respectable distance away from the group that was clustered around Onoda.

“That was nicely done, Sakamichi,” Manami said brightly, although that oddly empty look remained firmly in place. “I guess you really aren’t afraid of falling anymore.”

Onoda had the distinct impression he was missing something important. “Maybe this is proof that I should be, though,” Onoda said weakly, hoping to earn one of Manami’s signature dreamy smiles, but Manami just continued to stare at him, and Onoda shifted uncomfortably. “Is my broom alright?” he asked to no one in particular, hoping to alleviate the strange tension he could feel building up. “I’ve wasted enough time already. Everyone’s waiting to continue the match, so I’ll need—“

Kanzaki threw him a baffled look. “You’ve got to be kidding me, Sakamichi— don’t tell me that in all this commotion you haven’t even noticed yet?”

“Noticed what?”

“Look at your right hand.”

Onoda did as instructed, and was stunned when he realized what Kanzaki was referring to.

There, clenched tightly in the fist Onoda hadn’t realized he’d been making, was the Snitch.

“I… wait,” Onoda said, mind whirling faster than the tiny silver wings that struggled in his grasp. “How did that get there?”

“You tell me,” Makshima said from where he stood next to Onoda, smiling at his bafflement as he leaned on his broom handle. “You’re the one who followed through on that dive and somehow managed to both catch the Snitch an hold it through a pretty nasty crash.”

“I… is that really what happened?” Onoda asked weakly. “I can’t really remember most of it. Did I really… do all that?”

“It was an amazing play,” Kanzaki confirmed, clapping Onoda on the shoulder as he offered him a hand up. “Although,” he added, “as a flight instructor I should probably probably warn you that that move was a bit too risky for a beginner to try to pull off, but nonetheless….”

Onoda looked around, noticing properly for the first time that the Quidditch stands were emptying and the crowd was spilling out onto the pitch, the air around them ringing with shouts and cheers. Onoda’s team were laughing as they landed and attempted to rejoin with Onoda and Makishima only to be surrounded and set upon by fans. Onoda caught only a brief glimpse of Arakita and a broken-off curse before he was completely engulfed.

They had won. Onoda’s team had won, and he had helped them do it. He had fulfilled the role that his team had entrusted to him.

Onoda’s heart stuttered and he felt an overwhelming warmth bloom in his chest, quite unlike anything he had ever felt before.

This was what Imaizumi and Naruko must have been talking about in the first place, when they’d told him that there was nothing quite like Quidditch. The sight and feel of the Snitch in his hand was enormously satisfying, and he was… proud of himself, for once. His hard work and hours spent training had finally paid off in a visible way.

Yet, there was something missing.

Somewhere in the midst of the celebrating and the back-pats, Manami had turned and was now walking away, and the sight of his back quickly began to sap the delight Onoda had been feeling away.

“Sakamichiiiiiii!” Naruko exclaimed, breaking out of the crowd and throwing himself into Onoda’s arms. Onoda, startled, nearly fell over. “Finally, the man of the hour! That was amazing, Sakamichi, I don’t even know if I could do better— well maybe not much better, but that was incredible!”

“Nice work, Sakamichi,” Imaizumi said with dignity, although there was a small smile playing about his lips and his cheeks were flushed with excitement. “I guess I’ll be seeing you in the Finals.”

As much as Onoda was happy to have made Imaizumi and Naruko happy, he couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something wrong with this result. In particular, with the way he had left things with Manami.

Manami was the better flyer of the two of them by far— by all rights he should have won. He’d been skilled enough to pull out of the dive in time to avoid driving himself into the ground, after all, while Onoda hadn’t. The fact that Onoda had caught the Snitch was more of a matter of luck than any real skill, and Onoda couldn’t help but feel guilt marring his happiness at this realization.

Manami was walking away, and Onoda hurried to catch up, barely conscious of the fact that both Imaizumi and Naruko were following close behind him.

“Sangaku!” Onoda shouted, and for a second he thought Manami wouldn’t stop, but he visibly hesitated, turning back to look at Onoda expectantly.

Onoda opened his mouth, preparing to do what he did not know— congratulate him on his hard work maybe? Console him? It seemed like nothing he could say would be welcome, but he couldn’t bear parting without a word, either. Not when Manami was looking at him like a stranger.

“Hey, Sakamichi, what are you— whoa…”

Imaizumi’s eyes immediately went to Naruko as if drawn there by an irresistible force, and upon seeing Naruko beginning to eye Manami with curiousity he visibly blanched, swiftly placing himself between the two of them as if he intended to break their line of sight.

“H-hey, hotshot what’s your deal?” Naruko complained haltingly, although it was clear his attention was only half on Imaizumi. He continued stealing looks at Manami over Imaizumi’s shoulder as his cheeks took on an oddly flushed cast, apparently unaware of the fact that Imaizumi’s own expression was darkening dangerously the longer he did so. “Don’t you know it’s rude to… uh, to—”

“It’s also rude to barge in on conversations where you’re not wanted, Naruko,” Imaizumi snapped, cutting him off.

“I’m sorry,” Manami said, with a plastic-looking smile that looked wrong on his face. “I wasn’t aware we were having a conversation, mister…?”

“Imaizumi,” Imaizumi said in a brittle voice. “Shunsuke Imaizumi.”

“Ahhh, that’s right,” Manami said. “I should have realized, terribly sorry. Well then, it was nice meeting you, Shunsuke Imaizumi—“

What is going on with you and Sakamichi?” Imaizumi asked bluntly, blocking his way.

“That seems a lot like something you should be asking Sakamichi now, doesn’t it?” Manami replied, still smiling beatifically. “I’ll leave you to it now, shall I?”

Manami brushed past Imaizumi and disappeared to the crowd. He didn’t spare Onoda even a second glance, and Onoda felt like someone had driven a knife into his ribs.

“Naruko,” Imaizumi said abruptly, turning his attention back toward the now quietly fuming redhead.

Naruko’s teeth ground audibly. “What is it, asshole? After all, wasn’t this a conversation where I wasn’t wanted—“

“Sakamichi left his broom back where he fell. Go get it for him.”

“What— well if you noticed then why don’t you do it?” Naruko complained petulantly. “What do you think I am, some kind of gopher?”

“You’re closer,” Imaizumi said. “And I was the first one to follow Sakamichi, so you should have thought to pick it up then.”

Naruko huffed out an offended breath. “Fine,” he muttered. “But only because I’ll be faster about it than you would. Don’t go anywhere before I get back.”

The moment Naruko was out of sight Imaizumi’s hand clamped down on Onoda’s shoulder and the next thing he knew, he was being led—practically dragged— away through the crowd.

“Hey, Shunsuke,” Onoda protested, attempting in vain to pry himself out of Imaizumi’s grasp. “Where are we going? Didn’t Shoukichi say to wait—“

“He’ll be fine for a few minutes, I just need to speak to you about something first,” Imaizumi said. “Alone.”

Onoda had no reply to that and he could feel the tension in Imaizumi’s fingers, so he allowed himself to be guided away from the Quidditch pitch. When they reached the broom storage sheds Imaizumi tested the door on one and, finding it open and empty, beckoned Onoda to follow him inside.

Only after the door had been safely shut behind them did Imaizumi finally let out his breath, turning back to Onoda. “There, that should work. These are hardly the circumstances I would have picked to tell you, but until today I hadn’t thought I’d need to, after all.“

“Shunsuke,” Onoda said. “What is this about?”


Imaizumi blinked. “It’s about Sangaku Manami of course.”

His tone implied that that much should have been obvious.

“How did you meet him, Sakamichi?” Imaizumi asked. “You’ve met him before today, haven’t you?”

“Well… yeah,” Onoda confessed, and it felt surreal to be finally revealing his secret after all this time. “We meet up sometimes, and we sit together in class.”

Imaizumi’s expression was one of horrified disbelief.

“You mean to say that you’ve been spending most of the last year in Sangaku Manami’s company—alone— without even knowing what he is?”

The phrasing of that sentence seemed wrong to Onoda, and despite the fact that this was Imaizumi, part of him automatically felt the urge to lash out against him and his disbelieving tone. He knew all too well what Imaizumi thought of Slytherin house, and that was why he had hoped to avoid this particular conversation.

“Yes?” Onoda said. “As I said before, Sangaku is my… we’re friends. And I’m really sorry I didn’t tell you or Shoukichi about him before, but just because he’s a Slytherin doesn’t mean—”

“This isn’t about him being in Slytherin, although that fact isn’t exactly reassuring, either,” Imaizumi said, and the last time Onoda had seen him look this stressed was when Naruko had fallen from his broom in the Gryffindor versus Ravenclaw match. His lips were set in a taught line and his shoulders were visibly tense. “You really don’t know anything, do you? He didn’t tell you anything about his past, or…?”

“Not much,” said Onoda, seriously confused now. “I mean, he told me a bit, but… for the most part I didn’t really ask about it?”

“And he probably didn’t volunteer anything, either,” Imaizumi said darkly.

“I don’t under—“

“It’s…” Imaizumi said, taking a deep breath and pursing his lips. “He’s not human, Sakamichi.”

In the following stillness, the room was silent but for the subtle creak of the old floorboards they stood on and the distant sounds of students chatting as they made their way back to the castle, completely unaware of the fact that it felt like the foundations of Onoda’s entire world were shaking around him.

Out of anything Onoda had expected, any excuse Imaizumi might have had to try to convince Onoda that befriending a Slytherin was a bad idea, this was the absolute last thing he had expected to hear. It was absurd, even, like a bad joke. But Imaizumi didn’t look like he was joking, and the look in his eyes was the one that Onoda had grown to understand was one of concern.

“What— what do you mean by that?” Onoda asked finally, his mouth dry. “Of course he’s human… I mean, there was that time when we first met and he tried to convince me that he was a ghost, but that was all just… just a joke, right?”

Imaizumi grimaced, and Onoda recognized that look. It was a look that said Imaizumi was going to hate what he would do next, but he would do it anyways.

“Sangaku Manami is a half-Veela,” Imaizumi said. “I knew from our first year, but I thought it didn’t matter. He was sorted into Slytherin so I never thought that in all likelihood I’d never have anything to do with him. I never imagined it might come up.”

“You’ve… wait. What is… what is a Veela?” Onoda croaked, feeling as if his stomach was trying to work its way up his throat.

“Veela are… complicated,” Imaizumi said carefully. “They’re magical creatures, for lack of a better term, but they have human-like intellect and there are… in rare cases, children born from mixed human and Veela parentage.”

Onoda stared unblinkingly at Imaizumi, barely comprehending the words that left his mouth.

“They… they’re creatures that take the form of beautiful women for the most part, and that’s how they lure people in. Although when they’re… angry they show their true form,” Imaizumi continued, sounding almost as if he was reciting the information from a textbook, although he refused to meet Onoda’s eyes. “They’re… they’re somewhat avian in appearance and have dangerous defensive powers in addition to being wildly volatile and temperamental. There hasn’t been anyone with Veela blood in them at Hogwarts in hundreds of years, and for good reason.”

“Sangaku never did anything to hurt me,” Onoda protested weakly, not liking the implication Imaizumi was making. “And he’s not dangerous—“

“He is, whether you’d like to believe it or not. I’ve seen proof of it, even.”

“What? Like how?”

“Compulsion,” Imaizumi said. “All Veela can do it, at both a subconscious and a conscious level. And you’ve… spent a fair amount of time around Manami, haven’t you?”

“… Yes,” Onoda admitted tentatively.

“Have you ever noticed yourself strangely… drawn to him?

Onoda flushed and nodded hesitantly, realizing that his strange, embarrassing fascination had been discovered, but Imaizumi’s expression remained grim. He clearly wasn’t finished.

“Was there ever a point where you found yourself wanting to be around him constantly and to somehow be the focus of his attention, above anyone else?” Imaizumi continued, eyes finally meeting Onoda’s with an almost frightening intensity. “Have you ever wanted to impress him so much that you’ve found yourself either considering or actually following through with things that might put you in danger?”

The colour left Onoda’s cheeks, and he felt cold. He looked down at his hands, still spattered with blood from wounds that no longer existed, and clenched them into fists. The next breath he took came out stuttering.

Unbidden, his thoughts flew back to the first time he had actually flown properly, when he and Manami had played tag. He had thought it was because Manami was cool and interesting and Onoda had just wanted to be friends with him, but….

“Veela… they’re strange creatures,” Imaizumi said, his voice slightly gentler now than it had been before. “They’re similar to sirens in Greek mythology—not like real sirens, the merpeople— but the sirens in stories who were half bird and used their beauty to tempt sailors into wreaking themselves on rocky shorelines. Veela are the same sort of creature, and probably the reason for the muggles inventing the myths in the first place. I’ve grown up hearing far too many stories about people who drive themselves insane or end up killing themselves trying to win the attention—or the heart— of a Veela,” his expression hardened, “and I’m not going to stand by and let the same thing happen to you.”

Onoda felt a strange sort of disconnection— he could hear what Imaizumi was saying but it sounded as if it was from some distance, or if Onoda was drifting underwater, sinking steadily away as he lost his grip on the things he’d accepted as reality for so long.

It couldn’t… it had to be a coincidence. It was utterly ridiculous, but….

…But it didn’t (couldn’t) change the fact that Imaizumi’s words clicked into place in his mind, providing explanations for questions he hadn't even been aware he’d been asking himself.

Questions like why Onoda had always craved Manami’s attention with a hunger that had shocked him, and why he had felt irrationally jealous when Manami showed any interest in anyone else. He had forced himself to overcome his fear of heights for Manami, and seeing his approving smile alone was enough to send Onoda’s heart soaring. Manami was easily the most beautiful person he had ever met— could ever imagine meeting, really— and would do anything to keep his regard and whatever strange semblance of friendship they had. Anything at all.

And at the Quidditch match that very day hadn’t Onoda proved that beyond any doubts he might have had, as he had gleefully thrown himself out of the sky to follow Manami into a dive that had ended with Onoda in a bloody heap on the grass?

“I don’t know how strong Manami’s powers of compulsion are yet,” Imaizumi continued, seemingly unaware of whether or not Onoda was even listening at this point. “Or how aware he is of using them, but he’s young still, I imagine they’ll only increase with age. And while I don’t have any reason to believe that he is intending to use them against you, I don’t think we can entirely rule out the possibility of you getting hurt by accident if you continue spending so much time with him… especially after what happened today.”

Was everything because of that? Was the fact that Manami had challenged him, inspired him and never been far from his thoughts ever since they met really just because Onoda had been… what, actually, literally enchanted?

Onoda felt sick. He felt betrayed, despite the fact that Manami might not have even done anything wrong— Imaizumi had said that he might not even be doing it on purpose, but it still hurt nonetheless. He had misunderstood Manami so completely that he doubted he’d ever really known him at all, let alone been someone Manami considered a friend in return. At best, Manami had only singled him out in the first place as nothing more than he’d said— as a potential opponent to test his strength against. Hadn’t Manami always commented that he seemed driven to win?

But those misunderstandings were all Onoda’s fault, really.

He didn’t need to blame Manami for making a fool out of him. It was clear that Onoda was more than capable of doing that by himself.

“I’m sorry I had to be the one to tell you this,” Imaizumi said, looking genuinely regretful. “I guess I never imagined that you were so… close to him, so I apologize if I’ve--”

“No, it’s okay,” Onoda said, his eyes stinging. “You didn’t do anything wrong. Thanks for… thanks for telling me, I do appreciate it.”

“Sakamichi….” Imaizumi said, worry lacing his tone.

“I’m fine!” Onoda said, attempting a wobbly smile. “Thank you, really. I think I… I just need some time alone now— to process this, you know? Bye!”

He turned away quickly as his voice cracked, rushing blindly toward the door before Imaizumi had the chance to say anything. Just as he was reaching for the knob, however, the door swung open and he crashed headlong into Naruko as he came through.

“Sakamichi!” Naruko exclaimed as he steadied Onoda with hands on his shoulders. “I finally found you! And if you’re here, then that must mean that absolute douche of a hotshot who thought it would be funny to ditch me in the crowd is also— wait,” he said, smile falling as he finally noticed Onoda’s expression. “Why are you crying?”

Onoda waved him off, ducking under his arm. “No reason, I’m fine,” he said in as cheerful a voice as he could manage, hoping to shake off Naruko’s concern. “I’ll see you later!”

“Wait, Sakamichi!” Naruko exclaimed. “What happened? What did-- did Imaizumi say something to you?” he asked. “Where are you--”

“Leave him be, Naruko,” Onoda heard Imaizumi’s voice interrupt Naruko’s frantic one as he took advantage of Naruko’s distraction and slipped through the door.

“Are you kidding me? I’m not letting him out of my sight like this-- hey, Sakamichi! Wait!”

“For once in your life will you please just listen to me? Can’t you see he just wants to be alone?”

Part of Onoda desperately wanted to turn around and go back to stop his friends’ argument before it could escalate-- to step in and put their worries to rest the way he had so many times in the past, but this time he just couldn’t find the strength to do it. He didn’t have it in him to sort out their problems when he was just barely holding himself together as it was.

“Let go of me!” Naruko’s voice hissed, and Imaizumi made a small grunt of pain, like he’d just had a pointy elbow introduced to somewhere sensitive. “Sakamichi!”

“Calm down, Naruko.”

“Don’t you dare tell me to calm down! What did you do? What the fuck did you do?”

Imaizumi might have replied, but by then Onoda was already too far away to hear it.

Chapter Text

The week following Onoda’s first-ever Quidditch victory passed by at a dull crawl, with Naruko determinedly going out of his way to avoid Imaizumi and Imaizumi seemingly enabling him by shutting himself away in the library or the Ravenclaw dormitory at every opportunity. These long periods of boredom were punctuated only by tiny (and very unwelcome) flurries of activity as Onoda drifted awkwardly between Imaizumi and Naruko or whenever the two accidentally crossed paths.

In addition, Manami had stopped coming to class again, and the sight of the empty chair next to him never failed to make his heart plummet. He hadn’t realized how much he had come to expect a friendly face in all of his classes, and even beyond wishing for company he wanted Manami’s company in particular. He had to second guess himself every time he found himself caught up in this familiar spiral of thoughts, however, because as Imaizumi had told him, the reason why Onoda had been so caught up with Manami in the first place was because Manami was some kind of magical creature and not because he actually liked his company, or thought that it was kind of upsetting to think of Manami being alone so often when he was such a friendly and kind person and so interesting to talk to.

These thoughts got him nowhere, so he did his best to squash them down whenever possible. It didn’t matter what might or might not have been happening during his… whatever it was with Manami, because it was clear that Manami didn’t want to see him anymore. And Onoda didn’t want to keep bothering Manami, so he just had to accept it.

And this was why, on the following Saturday afternoon, Onoda found himself sitting at the Gryffindor table in the Great hall, pretending to study as he flipped through the pages of The Standard Book of Spells, Grade Two without really seeing what was on the pages. Imaizumi had only made a brief appearance at breakfast before returning to his dormitory. Naruko, meanwhile, had opted to stay with Onoda to study but had soon given up any pretence of working in favour of sitting with his chin propped up on his open textbook as he flicked Bertie Bott’s Every-Flavour Beans across the table for Quaffle to chase. He looked, to Onoda’s eyes, incredibly bored.

Onoda knew that there was no way that someone as proud as Naruko would ever admit to missing Imaizumi, but he couldn’t imagine what else could reduce his normally energetic friend to this level of sullen petulance. And as someone who was currently missing another person, he found it easy to recognize the same feeling in someone else.

And this situation was all Onoda’s fault, so the guilt sat heavily in his stomach.

“You don’t have to keep being angry at him, you know,” Onoda said eventually, trying to cover some of his awkwardness by flipping through his book. “He really didn’t do anything wrong. He just wanted to tell me something.”

“Tell you something that made you cry, you mean,” Naruko said angrily, not even bothering to look up as Quaffle devoured the bean it had caught and he prepared to launch another one. “That sure doesn’t sound like nothing’s wrong to me.”

“I guess it wasn’t… nice to hear,” Onoda admitted, in an effort to be fair. “But he said it was important for me to know, and… I think I agree with him.”

“Well yeah, you would, wouldn’t you?” Naruko shot back, and Onoda had the impression that this was something that had been weighing on his mind for a long time. “You put way too much blind faith in him, Sakamichi. It’s probably why he thinks it’s okay to push you around all the time.”

Naruko flicked the next bean with a bit too much force, the momentum sending both it and Quaffle off the far side of the table. Muttering under his breath, Naruko stood up and retrieved the Pygmy Puff from the floor before sitting back down, scratching absentmindedly into its fur.

“No, it’s just… he’s just worried,” Onoda said. “I really do think he was trying to help.”

Naruko’s brow furrowed further as he allowed Quaffle to run between his cupped hands. “Yeah, well… I guess I… kind of figured that much out by now?” he admitted eventually, but his jaw clenched stubbornly. “But still! He’s being so dodgy lately and I know he’s keeping things from me—and I figured you at least might tell me what’s going on, but now you’re keeping secrets too.”

“It’s… not that I don’t trust you,” Onoda said. “It’s just kind of… hard to admit, for me. I don’t really want to talk about it.”

“What about hotshot?” Naruko demanded, his tone belligerent. “Does all of his weird mood swings and bossiness have something to do with you?”

“Not… all of it, I think?” Onoda said, picking at his nail.

“Come on, Sakamichi, don’t lie to me,” Naruko pleaded. “It feels like everyone except me is in on some big thing that’s going down and I can’t take it anymore. I mean, Imaizumi and I are hardly best friends or anything so it’s not like I really expect him to tell me what’s going, but—“

“I think that Shunsuke is just… trying to protect you,” Onoda offered hesitantly, “by keeping you away from all this. I don’t think it’s that he doesn’t trust us, I think he’s just trying to look out for both of us as best as he can.”

“Protect me?,” Naruko said, nose wrinkling in derision, as if Onoda had suggested something utterly ridiculous. “Please tell me you’re kidding, Sakamichi. You don’t honestly think he’d stoop that low— seriously, remember how mad he was after the Boggart?”

Onoda winced. He had to admit that it was true— if Naruko was basing his understanding of Imaizumi’s personality off of that situation in particular, he could perhaps see why Naruko was so unwilling to believe that he was included in the number of people that Imaizumi wanted to protect. And Onoda himself was in the uncomfortable position of actually having evidence to the contrary, but being unable to share it without revealing uncomfortable things about Imaizumi to the very person he had been trying to hide them from in the first place.

“See?” Naruko said, as if Onoda’s silence had just proven his point. “If Imaizumi is keeping this all hush hush then it’s obvious that you’re the one he’s protecting here.”

“But—“

“That sounds just like something that stupid hotshot would try to do, doesn’t it? Always trying to look cool even though he he’s the one who goes to pieces over the smallest things. It’s so annoying, and—”

“Ahem.”

Onoda and Naruko both whipped around and came face-to-face with Jinpachi Toudou, who was standing haughtily and seemed to be doing his best to give the impression that he had simply been clearing his throat and not deliberately trying to get their attention.

“You, Maki-Maki’s four-eyed rookie, I have something to talk to you about. Do you have a minute?” he asked, and continued before Onoda had a chance to respond, clamping a hand down on his shoulder and tugging him to his feet. “Oh, silly me, you’re only a second-year so you clearly have more than enough time to spare for an extremely important word with me, hmm? Thank-you, and don’t you worry, little redhead, I’ll have him back to you before you even notice he was gone.”

Naruko made an indignant face about being referred to as “little redhead” but before he could protest either the name or his “borrowing” of Onoda, Onoda had been pulled from his seat and was being hastily ushered from the hall.

When Toudou deemed them far enough outside the hall, Onoda could only stand in one awkwardly, shifting his weight from one foot to the other as Toudou sized him up. Outside of the Quidditch Pitch he had only ever encountered Toudou on that one memorable occasion where the Slytherin boy had threatened him. Onoda had no idea what Toudou wanted this time, but he had a vague feeling that it wasn’t going to be pleasant.

Toudou, however, seemed determined to stick to his theme of betraying Onoda’s expectations today as well.

“How are you doing?” he asked, and Onoda did a double-take.

“Toudou… sir?” he asked, confused. Although Onoda hadn’t known what to think of Toudou’s sudden appearance, he had at least been fairly certain that he would be wanting to speak to him about Makishima. He wasn’t prepared to be asked about himself by Jinpachi Toudou, of all people.

“Yes yes, that’s who I am,” Toudou waved an impatient hand. “Now if you would please just answer my very simple question, we can get on with this.”

“Well, I’ve been…” Onoda considered everything that had happened over the last week, between Manami’s constant disappearances, his friends arguing again, his own doubts about himself… he swallowed. “Fine.”

Toudou looked at him sharply, as if sensing the lie, before turning away with a huff. His expression was strange, and not one that Onoda could recall ever seeing on him before. On anyone else it might have even looked almost sympathetic.

“It’s hard, I know,” Toudou said.

“What is?” Onoda asked, feeling distinctly like he was missing something important.

“It’s hard to love, and feel as though those feelings aren’t returned,” Toudou said.

That had been, quite possibly, the very last thing he had ever expected to hear Toudou say to him.

He wondered what he could say to that that wouldn’t anger Toudou.

“I… really don’t know if I’ve ever actually been in love, Toudou sir—“ Onoda stammered out.

“I never said in love, I said love,” Toudou corrected him. “Whatever your distinction is, I don’t really care. My point, however, is that you— both of you really— seem to be greatly overestimating your ability to have your feelings dictated by magic.”

Onoda was, if possible, even more confused, but the ‘feelings dictated by magic’ part’ and the fact that Toudou was here could only mean he was referring to one person. “By ‘both of you,’ then… you mean me and Sangaku?”

“No, I meant you and Maki-Maki—of course I meant you and Sangaku!” Toudou said sharply, and Onoda flinched. “Who else have you recently had a big dramatic falling-out with that has been and still is negatively affecting my life? I haven’t seen Sangaku crack a smile since our match, and just lately he’s started skipping Quidditch practice which simply will not do. Frankly, it’s annoying, and I’m of the belief that if you’re at fault you should take responsibility for it.”

“I don’t think Sangaku… really wants to see me,” Onoda said sadly.

“I doubt that Sangaku knows what he wants, or more to the point what’s good for him,” Toudou said. “He’s a troublesome brat. If it weren’t for Maki then I’d almost say the effort of trying to make him into a Seeker isn’t worth how exhausting it is to constantly be catering to his whimsical ways. Honestly, you should be grateful I’m even talking to you now, you’ve been a constant thorn in my side ever since Maki first met you. We used to have such a good rivalry before he went and messed it up to get you on the team.” Toudou fixed Onoda with a glare. “And that’s why I’m not going to let you two pipsqueaks ruin the set-up we have now with your preteen angst. You don’t even realize how lucky you are to have a good rival waiting for you, do you? I want to fly with Maki-Maki even if he couldn’t care less, because—“

“Uh… Toudou, sir?” Onoda added nervously.

“Excuse me? Did you say something?” Toudou asked. “Don’t you know it’s rude to interrupt your elders, especially right in the middle of—”

“I’m really sorry, I don’t mean to interrupt!” Onoda apologized hastily, belatedly realizing that he had just interrupted Toudou again, “but I just wanted to say that you Makishima, he… he always speaks very highly of you.”

“I’ll have you know that—wait,” Toudou hesitated, casting a curious glance at Onoda. “He… Maki does?”

“Yes?” Onoda said, suddenly second-guessing that it was actually his place to be telling Toudou this much, but Toudou was staring him down with piercing eyes and there was little he could do but continue. “When… when we were training to beat you in practice he said you were one of the most brilliant Seekers he had ever seen—and I could tell he was really happy to be flying against you again. I just thought you should know that— I don’t think it was because of you that he went back to being a Chaser, it’s just what he’s good at. And he would never ask you to follow because he thought that being a Seeker is what you love most, so….”

“…I see,” Toudou said, his face impassive.

Onoda ducked his head, embarrassed. “Please… don’t tell Makishima I said that.”

Toudou pinched Onoda’s cheek, squinting at him thoughtfully. “Of course I won’t. But I have to admit, you’re actually a lot cuter than I gave you credit for when we first met,” he said before adding, almost as an afterthought, “and you don’t actually look all that much like a bug.”

“Uh… thank you?” Onoda said, as Toudou suddenly turned and began walking away down the corridor, a new spring in his step that hadn’t been there before. “Uh… didn’t you have something to tell me?” he asked.

“No, I think I covered everything I needed to,” Toudou said from over his shoulder. “And you really should cheer up, Sakamichi Onoda. A face like yours is better suited for smiling— you’re a lot like my irritating protege in that respect. Your frown annoys me.”

“I’m sorry,” Onoda said automatically, to which Toudou responded only with a brief harassed noise before he swept off down the corridor with a twirl of his robes.

When Onoda returned to the Gryffindor table he mist have been sporting a strange look on his face, because Naruko looked at him curiously.

“So…” he asked. “What did he want?”

“… I have no idea,” Onoda said, in complete honesty.

***

For several long days, Onoda’s life at Hogwarts continued the way it always had, with the notable exception of a Manami-shaped hole in his routine.

A somewhat dismal truth was that even this, however, wasn’t as jarring as it might have been at one time. Sometimes it felt like losing Manami had always been inevitable, that it had merely been a slow and drawn-out process that had finally reached its end. If this were the case then maybe Onoda shouldn’t be upset that his… acquaintanceship with Manami was over, rather maybe he would do better to be thankful for all the time Manami had been willing to spend with him in the first place. It wasn’t easy, but as time passed he came closer to making his peace with it— to ignore the empty seat next to him when Hufflepuffs and Slytherins were paired up for classes, to stop expecting him to greet him in the hallway, to not look at the tops of the Quidditch goalposts, expecting to see him there….

Until then, on one seemingly-unremarkable day, he decided to show up for Charms.

He didn’t sit next to Onoda or do anything remarkable (besides actually show up to class), but Onoda noticed him instantly. His happiness at seeing Manami again, however, was accompanied by an uncomfortable lurch when Manami took a seat in the back instead of sitting next to Onoda.

Right. It was for the best this way, after all.

Onoda had no hope of following the lesson with the knowledge that Manami was sitting behind him (and why had Manami come anyways? In the past it seemed like he had usually only come to class to sit with Onoda, so why had he come today?). His mind practically buzzed with questions.

After what seemed like an eternity the class finally ended and Onoda scrambled to get his books put away as the rest of the class packed up and began filing out of the room. Just as he was shoving his quill into his bag, a shadow fell across the table in front of him and he looked up, suddenly finding his face only inches away from that of one Sangaku Manami.

Onoda felt something vaguely reminiscent of the time Naruko had accidentally clocked him over the head with the handle of his broomstick.

“S-Sangaku?” Onoda stuttered?

“Sakamichi,” Manami acknowledged, unsmiling. “If I ask you to meet me somewhere tonight, will you come?”

Onoda hesitated— Manami had avoided him all this time, and now he was suddenly making a request like this? Part of him was urging him to agree, but his rational self hesitated, thinking about what Imaizumi had said about Manami and about Veela in general. Did Manami even realize how much of an effect he had on Onoda? Imaizumi had said that he might not have control over his… compulsion. How much could he really trust Manami? how much could he trust himself?

So instead of agreeing immediately, Onoda, for the first time ever, dug in his heels and resisted the urge to automatically go along with whatever Manami suggested. “I… I don’t know,” he said.

“Please, Sakamichi?” Manami asked, a pleading note creeping into his voice, and Onoda was shocked that he would go so far as to beg— that it mattered that much to him. “It would be breaking curfew, I know, but just hear me out. I want to talk to you. Alone.”

Although there was a now-familiar pull that urged him to acquiesce to Manami’s request, a small voice in Onoda’s head warned him that this was certainly a bad idea. The voice sounded more than a little bit like Imaizumi.

“There are plenty of places we could meet during the day,” Onoda croaked, clenching a fist as if hoping it would keep him from doing anything stupid, “if you want us to talk.”

Manami drew back slightly, frowning.

“You don’t trust me,” he said, a statement of fact rather than a question.

“I don’t… I really don’t know what to trust anymore,” Onoda confessed, unable to fully meet Manami’s eyes.

“Is this about what that… Imaizumi was so eager to tell you about?” Manami asked, his voice turning slightly petulant. “He told you about my mother, didn’t he? This is about me being a half-Veela.”

It felt strange to hear him admit it so easily, after everything. “Were you ever going to tell me?”

“It wasn’t important,” Manami said, although that wasn’t really what Onoda had been asking. “I never lied to you about it— I don’t see why it should change anything.”

“But… back when we first met and you made me think you were a ghost. You told me you were...”

“I told you I was as alive as you were. I never said I was as human as you were, Sakamichi.”

Manami’s voice was uncharacteristically harsh, and Onoda instinctively hunched his shoulders, afraid that he had truly made Manami angry. Was he being unfair? He didn’t think so, but he had no experience in situations like these— and really, who would? He hadn’t ever asked for this, all he’d wanted was to make some friends, not become enchanted by a half-Veela classmate and have to sort out which parts of his feelings actually belonged to him and which were just magic at work.

Onoda felt something soft shoved into his hands. “Look,” Manami sighed, sounding almost as frustrated as Onoda felt. “If you’re willing to at least hear me out, you can bring your broom and return these to me tonight at midnight outside the main gate. If you don’t want to even have that much to do with me, then you can just keep them. I won’t have any use for them anymore.”

Onoda looked at what he held in disbelief.

They were Onoda’s cheap gloves, the pair he had given to Manami the previous winter when they had stood together on the Quidditch Pitch in a snowstorm. They were exactly the same as he remembered them, down to the loose threads in the cuffs. They looked as if they had barely been worn since he had had seen them.

Did Manami plan to give him the gloves beforehand, or did this mean… that Manami carried them with him everywhere? And if he did, for what reason?

He wanted to ask, but when he looked up Manami was already gone.

***

It was, in the end, inevitable that Onoda would end up doing as Manami had asked.

Onoda had never broken curfew before, but because he had been the constant target of bullies as a child, he had always been good at making himself overlookable and sneaking into places. For once he was thankful for the miserable time he’d had in primary school, because he had a surprisingly easy time slipping undetected out of the Hufflepuff common room, past the ghosts and into the Great Hall despite his thoughts’ tendency to wander away from the situation at hand and latch onto other topics.

Other topics in this case, of course, being Manami.

Onoda hadn’t been expecting Manami to approach him in the first place, and he certainly hadn’t been expecting him to be still carrying the gloves, even after all this time. Maybe he just had them with him because his hands were cold? But… Manami had’t wanted to wear them in the first place, and judging by how much he had grown in the past year, it was unlikely they would even fit anymore.

It only occurred to Onoda after he had slipped out the heavy doors that it was possible that this was a set-up intended to get Onoda in trouble and Manami had never intended to meet him in the first place, but before he could truly work himself into a panic he noticed Manami standing on the threshold a short distance away, watching him.

“Hi,” Onoda said lamely, clutching his broom close as he carefully closed the door behind him.

Didn’t respond to his greeting and instead simply said, “Follow me,” before he mounted his broom and kicked off into the night.

Onoda had no idea what Manami was planning, but he had come this far already and couldn’t really think of a reason to back out now, so he got on his broom and followed.

Manami, as it turned out, hadn’t gone far— he was hovering nearby, clearly waiting for Onoda. Once he was satisfied that Onoda saw him and was coming after him, he turned around and continued on toward wherever he was taking them.

Onoda hadn’t ever flown at night before, and he certainly hadn’t flown this close to a building before (let alone the castle itself, which was a spiny mess of turrets and sculptures and other things that he could easily crash into in the dark if he wasn’t careful), but the light from the moon was decent, and for once Manami didn’t seem interested in making it a race. He flew fairly slowly, turning back every so often to make sure Onoda was still following, and it wasn’t long before they flew up to the tallest of the castle’s towers— the Astronomy tower, Onoda realized, and Manami gracefully brought himself in for a landing on the roof with the air of someone who had done this many times before.

Onoda’s own landing was far more awkward, but he hoped that Manami had been too preoccupied with seating himself comfortably to notice. He might not be petrified of heights anymore but he still didn’t love them, and the space he had for landing himself and sitting down after was worryingly small.

Onoda managed, however, and he sat down awkwardly on the roof a short distance away from Manami, crossing his legs in front of him both to brace himself and keep from having his feet dangling over the ledge. It was only once he was relatively certain he wouldn’t slide off if he let go or shifted his balance that he mustered enough courage to reach into his pockets and pull out the gloves.

“I… um… I brought these, like you asked,” he said, offering them awkwardly.

Manami wordlessly accepted the gloves that Onoda held out to him. Onoda noticed even in the poor lighting that, although Manami’s face was still unquestionably beautiful, there was something strained and cautious about his appearance. There were lines of tension on his face that Onoda couldn’t remember seeing there before, and he looked like he might not be getting enough sleep, which for Manami Onoda would have thought was impossible.

The silence hung heavily around them until Manami eventually broke it with a sigh.

“I was angry after our match, and I wasn’t planning on speaking to you again,” he said bluntly, and Onoda’s entire body went cold. He almost dreaded to hear what was coming next as Manami continued, “But Jinpachi came and talked it over with me. He told me I shouldn’t cut ties with you outright just because our… rivalry didn’t bring about the results I thought I wanted, and I think he’s right. At the very least, I think I owe you an explanation. And an apology, if you’ll accept it.”

That much was more than he had been hoping for, and Onoda, his heart racing, hurriedly blurted out, “Yes, of course! I’ll definitely accept your apology, so please don’t worry— if anything, I should be the one apologizing!”

Manami stared at Onoda, a look of unadulterated, unfiltered disbelief on his face in the wake of his blustered assurances, like he had not the faintest idea how to react. Eventually, however, the corner of his mouth twitched and he began to laugh, the clear sound splitting the night air like the chime of a bell.

Onoda was very confused (and more than a little worried that the noise would alert someone to their presence), but most of him was simply enchanted with the sight of Manami’s face so genuinely happy, and he wasn’t willing to be the one to take that happiness away this time.

Eventually, however, Manami’s laughter died down on it’s own, and as he cracked his eyes open he looked far more relaxed than he had before, as if a great weight had been lifted from his shoulders. He seemed more like the Manami Onoda remembered from his first year, who looked like he could float away on a breath of air.

“You know, Sakamichi,” Manami said. “You could at least wait to hear my apology before you accept it. I worked really hard on it, you know—but I guess that’s just like you,” he said, voice sounding almost fond. “I should have seen it coming.”

Onoda must have looked confused, because Manami laughed again.

“I’m glad that you’re not angry, but I promised Jinpachi that I’d apologize to you, so I’d still better go through with it— if I tried to stop now he’d probably be mad. He’s been telling me all week to ‘get off my sorry rear and go apologize to Maki’s little glasses kid’ or he would kick me all the way to the Hufflepuff dormitories himself,” Manami said.

Onoda gaped. “What— really? He really said that?”

“You seem surprised.”

“Well… Toudou was pretty scary when we first met,” Onoda admitted, embarrassed. “He told me he was going to bring me down— I thought he hated me.”

“Ah, that’s probably my fault,” Manami said sheepishly, as Onoda could do little but stare. “I was so surprised when you told me that you’d gotten the Seeker position-- Jinpachi was always going on about his rivalry with the Hufflepuff Seeker, and when I you told me that he’d stepped aside for you… I couldn’t keep it to myself. Jinpachi originally wanted me to join as a Chaser but after that he decided he’d… what was it… oh yes, he said he’d ‘groom me as his successor’ instead.”

In the midst of everything, it had never once occurred to Onoda how exactly Toudou had learned about Makishima’s change in position so quickly, especially considering the amount of secrecy each team treated their practices with. The fact that Toudou had been the one Manami had been meeting with all this time and that it was for extra Quidditch training actually made a lot of sense. Maybe Onoda should have been angry that Manami had told Toudou about Onoda’s position, but he had shared that information of his own free will and hadn’t told Manami to keep it a secret, so anything that came of it was really his own fault. Onoda was mostly just tired of feeling resentful, and it wasn’t like it had given Slytherin the advantage in the end.

…Which reminded him of one of the things he’d been meaning to apologize for, if he had the opportunity. And, well… this was the perfect opportunity.

“Right,” Onoda swallowed, and Manami looked at him with bright eyes. “About the match— it’s taken me too long, I know, but I’ve… I’ve been meaning to say that I’m really sorry about what happened.”

Manami looked confused. “Sorry about what? You don’t have anything you need to be sorry about, Sakamichi. You flew well.”

“But… you deserved to win,” Onoda said. “You were right to be angry, it was a dumb fluke that you didn’t catch the Snitch first. You’re by far the better flyer— I mean, you’re the one who helped teach me in the first place—”

“You mean you don’t even realize what you did?” Manami asked, cutting him off.

“What?”

“While we were falling together,” Manami said. “Do you know what you did?”

“I… I don’t remember much about it?” Onoda admitted, although he wasn’t quite sure where Manami was going with this. “Everything was happening so quickly, and I didn’t really have time to think.“

“You braced for impact,” Manami said.

Onoda frowned. Manami had uttered his answer as if this was significant, but for the life of him Onoda couldn’t see why it was.

As if sensing his confusion, Manami sighed. “We were both seconds away from hitting the ground, and you were completely ready to crash rather than let the Snitch get away,” he said. “Meanwhile, I pulled up. I remember thinking at the time that there’d be other chances, that it wasn’t worth wrecking myself to try to get it just then— at least, that’s what I told myself— and meanwhile, you followed it all the way down and somehow managed to catch it.”

There was silence between them for several long seconds, broken only by the sigh of the wind across the roof tiles. The air was tight with anticipation.

“And I couldn’t believe it,” Manami finally continued, staring fixedly off into the distance. “There you were, the boy I met who in the beginning was so afraid of falling, actually driving himself into the dirt in order to catch the Snitch, while I backed off.” He looked at Onoda then, his blue eyes unreadable. “You see, Sakamichi, it wasn’t that I was better than you, it’s that your heart was stronger than mine. I told you that love heights and that I’ve always wondered what it would be like to let myself fall, but when the time finally came my courage failed, and yours didn’t. It’s as simple as that.”

“But… you….”

“You won through your own strength that day, Sakamichi,” Manami said. “You have nothing to apologize for. I, on the other hand…” he deliberately kept his face turned away from Onoda, but from his profile he could tell that Manami was uncomfortable. “I still have one more thing I owe you an apology and an explanation for.”

“Oh…” Onoda said, realizing what it was he was hinting at. “The… the Veela-thing?” he asked carefully.

“Yes,” Manami said, chewing his lower lip. “I didn’t think it would be a problem, but then, I also don’t know how much of this works… my mother died when I was a baby and I’ve never met another Veela, so I never got a chance to learn what I would be able to do with my powers or how to control them. It seemed like it wouldn’t matter, though, because for the most part everyone seemed perfectly willing to let me be, except….”

Except me, Onoda thought, ashamed. He was the only one who had latched onto Manami like a fool, desperate for his attention.

“I’m still trying to figure out why Veela charm seems to effect some people more than others,” Manami continued. “But I think the most likely explanation is that people who are aware of what I am— like my teammates— are less likely to mistake a magical attraction as something more. In your case, I also spent more time with you than I did with pretty much anyone else in the school, so that probably didn’t help things much. It’s possible that you were… overexposed to me, I guess?”

“Oh,” Onoda said, looking away. That was that, then.

Onoda wondered if it was possible for ‘real’ heartbreak to hurt as much as the magical kind apparently did. His feelings felt rubbed raw and his eyes were stinging with unshed tears. If this was anything like what what actual love felt like, Onoda couldn’t understand why anyone would want to experience romance or anything like it in the first place.

“Although,” Manami continued unexpectedly, swinging his legs over the ledge, “I’m hardly an expert, but I suspect that there might have been one other reason. Maybe.”

“What?”

“Again, I’m not sure. It was just a thought, but I sort of wondered… if maybe part of it depends on how I feel about the person.”

Onoda blinked.

“Maybe part of me wanted you to be fascinated with me,” Manami said, as Onoda’s ears reddened at return of the ringing laughter to his voice. “Maybe I liked you more than I thought from the beginning, and all this time I was doing my best to keep you close to me without realizing it.”

Onoda, despite the weight of the admission, couldn't help but chuckle along with Manami, the tension between them finally loosening from its constricting hold. He was pretty sure Manami was just teasing him, anyways, but he was glad that even after the awkwardness of this discussion, they could still laugh together like this.

“At any rate, I’ll do my best to control it better from now on,” Manami said lightly. “It’ll be easier now that we’re both aware of it happening— it’s the least I can do. I hope after all that you can still accept my apology. It wasn’t what I wanted, but I hurt you and I’m sorry.”

“Well.. if that’s the case, then I think I still owe you an apology too,” Onoda said, continuing before Manami could protest. “I think… I think we both had the wrong measure of each other from the beginning. But I think Toudou has the right idea with Makishima— we can still be rivals, but that doesn’t mean we can’t try to be friends as well. Just…” Onoda hesitated, gathering his thoughts and courage before continuing. “I want to try to be proper friends this time, if that’s alright with you? I want us to be able to get to know each other as we actually are instead of just what we think we are, if… if that makes sense?”

Manami looked surprised at first, but Onoda felt his insides warm when that surprise morphed into one of the softest smiles Onoda had ever seen on Manami’s face.

“In that case,” Manami said humourously, extending a slim hand. “We might as well start over properly this time. Allow me to re-introduce myself. I’m Sangaku Manami, Slytherin second year. I love heights and I’m a Seeker on my house Quidditch team. You?”

Feeling his ears heat up slightly, Onoda swallowed his sudden— and completely uncalled-for— shyness and took the proffered hand. “Sakamichi Onoda, Hufflepuff second year,” he said. “I like comics and I’m also a Seeker on my house team. I’m… I’m pleased to meet you.”

“The pleasure is all mine, Sakamichi Onoda,” Manami said, and although there was still a joking twinkle in his eyes, it sounded as though he actually meant it.

As if by unspoken agreement, they turned their eyes back toward the scenery, allowing each other a small amount of privacy in the wake such an emotionally charged discussion.

However, it seemed that neither one of them was willing withdraw their hands after their handshake. If they truly were starting over from scratch, Onoda figured that it should feel a little weird for them to be holding hands on the roof of the astronomy tower in the earliest hours of the morning, but for some reason it felt perfectly natural. Perhaps Manami just had a gift for making Onoda feel comfortable in the most surprising of situations.

So it seemed like they weren't quite starting from square one, but Onoda couldn’t find it in himself to complain about it.

***

It was very lucky that when Onoda had come to his friends after class the next day to tell them that there was somewhere he’d like them to go with him, Imaizumi and Naruko seemed to understand how important this was to him. Although to the best of his knowledge no apologies had actually been exchanged (and Onoda also didn’t know if anyone really had any idea what they would be apologizing for in the first place), there seemed to be at least some sort of an understanding between them. At the very least, it seemed as if they had put aside their differences for the time being for Onoda’s sake, which he was grateful for.

“Y’know, if you wanted to fly with us you could have just said so,” Naruko said jokingly from where he was trotting next to Onoda. “It’s been way too long since we got to practice with each other.”

Despite the lighthearted tone, Onoda could detect the faintest undercurrents of strain in his voice. Naruko was worried, although he seemed to be doing his best not to show it.

In contrast, Imaizumi’s concern was expressed only in his white-knuckled grip on his broom and the Quaffle they had procured for the occasion, along with the fact that he had barely spoken other than to utter a quiet “good afternoon” to Onoda.

Onoda took a deep breath to steady himself. It was nothing he should have been afraid of in the first place— it was just Imaizumi and Naruko. He was the one who had requested that they meet up here, so backing out was out of the question.

It was just… even if there was no danger involved, he was nervous about what he had to do next. He almost wanted to back out, but if he was being completely honest with himself he knew that it had been a long time coming, and was almost certainly overdue.

So Onoda swallowed down his nerves as he stepped out onto the Quidditch Pitch, Imaizumi and Naruko following close behind. He led them to the goalpost on the far side of the field before taking a deep breath and turning back to them. He raised his arm in a beckoning gesture and braced himself for what was going to happen next.

Manami alighted softly on the ground next to Onoda, with barely a crinkle of dry grass beneath his feet.

Imaizumi and Naruko were struck speechless.

“Shunsuke, Shoukichi,” Onoda said nervously, positioning himself between them and Manami. “I’ve been meaning to introduce you for a while now, but this is Sangaku Manami, my… my friend.”

Imaizumi’s jaw all but dropped in disbelief as Manami cheerfully waggled his fingers at him.

“We’ve met, but I’m hoping that this meeting will be under better circumstances,” Manami said brightly, casually lifting his foot to scratch the back of his leg. “Sakamichi speaks very highly of you.”

Naruko, evidently having managed to shake off his stupour, piped up, “Hey wait— Sakamichi, you can’t mean you have a friend who’s not us? Since when—“

Imaizumi neatly bodychecked Naruko away from Manami before fixing the smiling boy with a glare. “What do you think you’re playing at?” he addressed Manami as if Onoda wasn’t there at all, lips set in a thin line.

“Hm? What do you mean?” Manami asked, not intimidated in the slightest. His smile didn’t even twitch.

“You couldn’t get away from us— Sakamichi included— fast enough the last time I saw you. What changed? What are you getting out of this?”

“What am I getting out of this?” Manami repeated, eyes wide and expression the picture of earnestness. “I’m sorry, but I don’t understand— didn’t Sakamichi just tell you? We’re friends.”

Imaizumi’s expression did not soften one iota, and if anything his eyes narrowed further.

“… As I’m sure we will be as well, Shunsuke,” Manami added reassuringly. “In time.”

The way he said those words made it seem as if they should have been accompanied by a head-pat. Imaizumi looked furious.

“Hotshot?” Naruko asked, concern audibly creeping into his voice. “Are you—“

The sound of Naruko’s voice apparently did what nothing else could, and finally broke Imaizumi’s stare.

“Nothing, it’s nothing,” Imaizumi said, turning back to look at Naruko and Onoda one after the other. His expression wasn’t one that Onoda saw often, but it carried shades of some of the same things it did whenever the subject of his parents was brought up, or that night when he met Kawada in the infirmary corridor.

Onoda understood that Imaizumi had some concerns about Manami, but at the same time he couldn’t quite explain what in this situation warranted that look of fear.

“Sakamichi,” Imaizumi said stiffly, apparently his need to comment outweighing whatever it was that was eating at him. “Remember what we spoke about after the match?”

“Yes,” Onoda said, hoping his voice didn’t waver too much.

“And you’ve… thought about it?” he asked seriously, searching Onoda’s expression for a hint of doubt. “You’re sure?”

Onoda nodded. “Yes.”

Imaizumi, after several long moments of staring, withdrew his gaze with a sigh. “Then there’s nothing else I can say, I guess,” he said, before shooting one last glare at Manami. “Just be careful, Sakamichi.”

“I will be,” Onoda promised. If Imaizumi was willing to trust his judgement on this, then it was the least he could do.

“So if you don’t mind me asking,” Naruko piped up, looking increasingly put-out the longer he was left out of the loop, “if this was a meet-and-greet then why did you have us bring our brooms? Was it just an excuse to get us out here? Because really, way to get a guy’s hopes up—”

Onoda flushed. He had hoped that this first meeting would go more smoothly, but now that the event had actually passed all of his planning seemed to have been hopelessly optimistic. “Oh, That. I… um, I thought it might put everyone in better spirits if all four of us practiced together?” he offered, glancing between the three of them. “I just thought that since we all love to fly we at least have that much in common, so maybe it would… help us get to know each other?”

It sounded like an unfathomably stupid idea uttered aloud, Onoda knew, but he had no idea how else to get through to his Quidditch-minded friends. He had known from the beginning that they were both going to be on-edge because Manami was a Slytherin, and Imaizumi was especially on-edge because Manami was a Veela, so Onoda had decided that a mini game of Quidditch between the four of them might be just the thing to get them to loosen up around each other.

It had been a terrible idea from the beginning— there was no way any sort of competition would make them relax in the slightest. And even if it would, Imaizumi would never accept—

“Fine,” Imaizumi said, handing Onoda the Quaffle and turning away. “Sakamichi, you get first possession. Naruko, you’re on my team.”

Onoda apparently wasn’t the only one who found this reaction surprising, to say the least. Naruko threw a bug-eyed look at Onoda, gritting his teeth and pointing emphatically at Imaizumi’s back, his actions clearly spelling out who is this and what happened to Imaizumi?.

Onoda was beginning to wonder that himself.

“Stop making faces and get over here, idiot,” Imaizumi snapped, and Naruko, snickering, ran to catch up to him.

“I think that went pretty well,” Manami said to Onoda once Imaizumi and Naruko were safely out of earshot, looking entirely too relaxed for the situation. It would be a lie to say that not a single hair on his head was out of place (because he was Manami so really, they all were), but at the same time, every place still managed to somehow be the right one. Onoda briefly wondered whether that was a Veela-thing or just a Manami-thing, before deciding it didn’t matter.

“I guess…” Onoda said. “I mean, I don’t think this is the end of it, but….”

“But at least neither of them tried to hex me,” Manami said, smiling benignly. “It’s a start.”

Onoda felt his own lips curl up in response. “Shoukichi wouldn’t actually have hexed you,” he said, feeling compelled to defend his friends. “And Shunsuke—”

“—definitely had his wand halfway out the second I landed, but that’s okay,” Manami said cheerfully. “We’ll work on it.”

Onoda cast a worried look toward Imaizumi and Naruko, once again wondering if this was a good idea. Imaizumi was leaning down and seemed to be speaking rather seriously to Naruko, his face tight. Onoda wondered what he was saying, and how much of it was about Manami.

“Sakamichi, it’ll be fine,” Manami said a frankness in his voice that Onoda was still unused to. “Really, you’ve done so much already. They’ll come around eventually— or they won’t, but either way I’m sure they’ll still be there for you after. You’re a good friend.”

Onoda felt his face heating at the praise and he glanced down, noticing the Quaffle Imaizumi had given him in his arms as if seeing it for the first time.

“Oh, yeah,” he said. “I guess if we’re going to play Quidditch we all have to sort of be Chasers? Are you any good at throwing?”

“I’m terrible,” Manami said brightly.

“Oh,” Onoda said, realizing— “we’re going to lose.”

“Probably,” Manami agreed. “But who knows, maybe they’ll like me more if we let them think they’re better at Quidditch than me. You should try to look more on the bright side, Sakamichi.”

“I guess anything is possible…” Onoda offered tentatively as Imaizumi finished saying whatever he had been saying to Naruko and they both mounted their brooms, eyes fixed on them from across the pitch. “Just… I just have one more thing I wanted to say to you before anything else. Sangaku…?”

“Yes?”

Onoda swallowed, stomach doing backflips. “Even if we do lose terribly, I think it’s… I’m just… really happy to be on the same side as you, for once.”

Manami blinked at him, clearly surprised, and without warning kicked off into the sky, leaving Onoda with nothing but a rush of air at his departure.

He tried not to be disappointed— because really, what could anyone say to someone who told them that right out of the blue? It wasn’t Manami’s fault that Onoda was still more than a little bit affected by Manami’s Veela-pull, and although he was doing his best to control himself he would still have to be more careful to avoid slipping up in the future. And if that was the price he paid for Manami’s friendship, then it would all be worth it in the end.

Just as he kicked off the ground to follow, however, he heard it—Manami’s response, so softly-spoken that it was almost carried away by the wind before it reached him.

The feeling is mutual, Sakamichi.