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"I'm a right bloody miracle, I am. No one expects a kid to work a wand from a family of muggles," Cook boasted, his pinky currently knuckle deep and digging into his ear. He popped his finger out and wiped wax off on the tall boy beside him, who seemed disgusted, yet unsurprised.
"You mean you're a mudblood," a new voice cut in. Sauntering up beside the pair was the infamous Tony Stonem, wearing a bored expression. His arms were folded loose across his chest.
"Sorry?" Freddie asked, turning to face their new opponent.
"You heard me, but I'll repeat myself out of courtesy. I said your friend was a dirty mudblood. Although... It wouldn't surprise me if his whore of a mother had a wizard slip it to her, and voila. The bastard was born," Tony drawled. The smug smirk on his face made anger sing in Cook's veins.
He stepped in front of Freddie, who automatically grabbed at his arms to hold him back. "Don't you fuckin' dare talk about my mum like that," he snarled.
Cook felt the grip on his arms tighten protectively, heard Freddie sigh, "Cook, he's not worth it."
"Like hell I'm not. I'm a Stonem," Tony said, enunciating his surname like he was sharpening a knife. "You're first years, so I doubt you'd understand what that means."
"It means you're from one of the richest wizarding families to attend Hogwarts. We know who you are, you absolute bell end, we just don't care," Freddie spat, and Cook grinned at the bite in his friend's tone.
"Yeah, Freds, tell 'em."
"You better not be sorted into Slytherin, James," Tony said. "It would be a real stain on our sheets if you did."
From seemingly nowhere, a girl appeared. She stepped out from Tony's shadow and placed herself directly between him and Cook. Her huge eyes pierced straight through him, made him falter. She smiled sweetly.
"We shouldn't fight," she said simply.
Cook knew Freddie's jaw was dropping without having to turn around.
The girl hooked her arm gently around Tony's. She looked tiny in comparison to his tall form. "Let's go, Tone. Wouldn't want to miss the train," she mused. Ushering him toward Platform Nine and Three-Quarters, Cook and Freddie watched them take their luggage and disappear through the brick wall.
Freddie's hands left Cook's shoulders. He scratched at the back of his neck, unsure of what to say. Cook, on the other hand, blurted the first thing that came to mind.
"She was into me, Fredster. I could feel it," Cook beamed.
He was promptly slugged in the arm.
"Shut up, you say that about everyone," Freddie laughed. "Jay said he'd meet us on the other side. We better get going, yeah?"
"You say bye to Karen yet?"
Freddie narrowed his eyes. "Did you?"
Cook winked, earning him another punch to the shoulder. Freddie shook his head through Cook's bout of barked laughter.
"Shut up. Seriously."
"Ah, you love me. Now let's go. I'm sick of this stupid station."
They grabbed their carts, Freddie's great horned owl flapping her wings impatiently in the confines of her cage. With a victorious cry, Cook rammed himself toward the wall and slipped through to the other side. Freddie hesitated, feeling his palms sweat around the handle to his cart. He was so excited, he could barely breathe. Nodding more to himself than anything, he imitated Cook's yell and ran forward.
*
JJ sat facing away from the train window, compact and curled up in the corner of the curved booth. His hands were cupped, holding his toad gently. "We've already had three mishaps this morning," he chattered on, "and that was before nine o'clock. I managed to catch him, though, see? If I hold him like so, I can ensure that he won't get away again. It simply must not happen again."
Cook and Freddie exchanged a look, but let him continue.
"Have you ever heard of someone losing their toad at Hogwarts before? Don't you wonder what happens to them? They have to get a new pet entirely, don't they? My mum says that if she has to pay for another toad, she's going to be positively pissed."
Another exchanged look. Freddie cleared his throat, interrupting JJ's downward spiral and making him jolt to attention.
"Calm down, Jay-walk," Cook said with an easy smile. "Nothin's gonna happen to your frog or whatever."
"Risperdal is a toad," JJ corrected.
Their train car lapsed into silence. Cook shrugged and leaned back against the window, his pose almost mirroring JJ's, though he was far more languid. To Freddie's disdain, Cook's legs came sprawling over his own. Rather than shoving him off, he lightly rest his hands on Cook's shins.
"JJ, why's his name Ris... Risperdal?"
"Because every time I say his name, it reminds me to take my medication."
Another beat of silence and JJ started to fret for something to occupy his time. His hands went digging into the pockets of his robes, and from the depths, he withdrew a deck of cards. Cook smiled immediately at the sight. He sat forward, kicking Freddie in the process.
"Yes! Oh, you've gotta see this, Freds."
"What am I seeing, exactly?"
"Magic trick," Cook and JJ said in unison.
Freddie's brow knitted in worry. "Um, we're not supposed to use any magic outside of the castle walls."
Cook, for some reason unknown to Freddie, found this particularly hilarious. He slapped Freddie roughly on the back and laughed loudly. JJ seemed in on the joke as well. A smile was dancing at his lips as he shuffled the cards.
"Not magic magic. It's muggle magic," Cook explained.
Freddie frowned.
When Cook and JJ got off on tangents like this, Freddie felt left out. For a long portion of Freddie's life, he'd been excluded from the muggle world. His mother was a witch and his father worked at the Ministry. It was his father's profession that Freddie knew Cook at all, even. While Freddie knew more of the muggle world than most other wizarding families, he still had eleven years of lingo and whatnot to catch up on.
JJ's father was a quiet wizard, gone through his whole life with speaking barely a word. His mother was the direct opposite, even in magic. She was a muggle and in favour of modern medicines. It explained JJ's laundry list of diagnoses, anyway.
Everyone knew Cook's story. He was loud, rowdy, and his magic often got him into trouble at any public schooling. It was more of a favour to the muggle world than it was an act of kindness by getting Cook enrolled.
"Magic," JJ said again. He fanned the shuffled deck in one hand and held it out to Freddie. "Pick a card?"
Freddie did as instructed. He'd grabbed eight of diamonds.
"Show your card to Cook, please, and not to me."
Freddie flashed the card in Cook's direction. Cook didn't comment, but his arched-brow-faint-smile combo was all Freddie needed for a reaction.
"Now, put the card back into the deck," JJ said.
He slid the card into the fold. JJ shuffled once, twice, a third time. Then, fanned the cards. He held them up so Freddie could see the variety in the deck.
"Do you see your card?"
Freddie's eyes glazed across the selection. The eight of diamonds was nowhere to be seen. He shook his head, frowning. JJ shuffled the deck a final time. He flipped the cards onto their faces, and all fifty two had turned identical. They were all the eight of diamonds.
Cook clapped loudly, obnoxiously amused. Freddie was perplexed.
"How did you--?"
"That's fuckin' brilliant, Jay! Absolutely fuckin' brilliant," Cook crowed.
JJ turned pink at the praise. He took a bow, and when he came back up, all the colour had drained from his face. His eyes were wide as saucers. He looked from the hand holding the cards and back to his upturned palm, his upturned and empty palm.
"Oh no! I lost Risperdal!"
JJ crammed the cards back into his robes and jumped up from his seat. He sputtered a hasty goodbye before running down the train’s aisle, leaving the cackling pair behind.
*
The moon was high above the horizon when they approached the Black Lake. Everyone huddled together, feeling empty handed without their birdcages and bedding. The castle was breathtaking. Freddie could feel his hands shaking, and he embedded them in the fabric of Cook's robes to keep steady.
"You're more excited than I am," Cook teased. "It's just a school, Freddie."
Some blonde girl overheard his comment and went red with anger. She didn't mind butting into their conversation, hands on her hips. "Excuse me? It's not just a school, it's Hogwarts. The school of Witchcraft and Wizardry? One of the best in all of Britain? Need I remind you that Dumbledore is our headmaster as well?"
"Sorry, blondie," Cook apologized, without feeling an ounce of regret. "Any other old buildings you got a hard-on for?"
"Unbelievable," she scoffed.
Their conflict barely breached Freddie's ears. He was busy staring up at the castle with wonder. Phosphenes drifted through his vision in the shape of the moon.
Freddie's mother had come from a family of Gryffindors. Karen rejected Hogwarts in favour of attending Beauxbatons, and would never be sorted into any specific house. Freddie was his mother's last chance for gracing the McLairs with another Gryffindor. The thought was terrifying and exciting.
Cook and the girl were still arguing when Freddie came off cloud nine.
"I plan on becoming a prefect, I'll have you know."
"That's great, Naomi. They needed someone to fill the position of having a stick up their ass," Cook replied, and laughed when she huffed angrily.
JJ was yanking at the flyaway strands of his hair, stammering unintelligibly. Freddie's mouth twitched in sympathy for this girl. She had yet to realize her efforts were being wasted on someone as stubborn as Cook.
Freddie opened his mouth, about to diffuse the dispute when he was yanked away from his friends. Hagrid, an enormous silhouette in the silver light, dragged him toward one of the boats.
"Your turn, lad," he said, and plopped Freddie into a boat full of peers he couldn't recognize even if he tried. He could hear Cook on the shore, still squabbling over their separation. He hid his burning face in his hands, embarrassed.
"That your boyfriend?"
Freddie shot upright. "What?"
Sitting across from him was a redhead, and adjacent her was a girl identical. The girl on the left snickered and said, "He hasn't said no, Katie. They must be boyfriends."
"We're not boyfriends," Freddie objected.
"Well, that's a relief," the girl on the right--Katie, he assumed--said in reply. She leaned over and patted his knee affectionately. "You're well fit, you are. For a scarecrow, that is." And the girls erupted in giggles again.
Freddie looked to the last person in the boat. It appeared Hagrid had sat him beside a boy as dark as the night around them.
"A little help?" Freddie asked.
"Hello," he said, sticking his hand out. "My name is Thomas."
"Not quite what I was looking for," Freddie sighed, but shook his hand nonetheless.
*
Cook, JJ, and Freddie reunited in a tiny room outside the dining hall. They lingered at the edges of the room, avoiding the direct centre. In the fray of first years, Freddie found the glittering doe eyes of Tony Stonem's sibling. She was staring right at him, the edge of her mouth quirking in what he hesitated to call a smile. A pig-tailed blonde bounced at her side, unaware that her friend's attention had wandered.
Freddie waved half-heartedly. She didn't bother returning the sentiment. He watched her duck back into the crowd with a flutter of her eyelashes, and her chubby friend followed shortly after.
"Wouldn't stop talking about her mum's inn at Hogsmeade," Cook complained, hands stuffed in the pockets of his robes and the tie at his neck artfully undone. "Can't believe I got stuck in a boat with her while JJ got a free ride with that Stonem chick."
"You can't call her a 'chick,' Cook. It's disrespectful," JJ protested.
"I do what I like, Jay."
Freddie rolled his eyes. "One detention with McGonagall and you'll be docile as a house cat," he said.
Cook elbowed him in the ribs. Freddie swatted at his face, catching the edge of his cheek with a jagged fingernail. Cook growled and shoved him off. Fortunately, he went toppling into the less flirty of the twins. Instead of a grope, she helped him stabilize.
"Thanks, Katie."
"Um, actually--"
There was a panicked scream from JJ, followed by the croaking of a toad.
"Don't move," JJ breathed, pointing left of Freddie's shoe. There sat Risperdal, fat and slimy. JJ frantically dropped to his knees, scrambling to scoop up his amphibious companion. Just as his fingers brushed Risperdal's bum, the toad leaped out of reach.
The twin, presumed to be Katie, elbowed past a few students. She returned to JJ's side with the toad in her palm.
Her features were practically feline. The shape of her mouth made her smile like a cat, and her eyes were green-gold. Her vibrant hair was held back with rounded barrettes. She handed the frog back to JJ, delighted to have held it at all.
"What did you say your name was?"
"It's Risperdal. No. I mean, my toad's name is Risperdal," JJ stuttered. Behind him, Cook chortled at his frazzled disposition, making JJ blush.
"Risperdal pissed on my fingers."
"Oh, dear. I am so sorry," he apologized, voice wavering. "I-- He didn't mean to. Predatory situations cause certain chemicals to route in his tiny toad head, and it forces him to engage in urination. Totally, totally accidental."
She wiped her hands off on JJ's cloak, laughing brightly.
"It's okay," she said. "I don't mind it."
"You-- What? You don't?"
She shook her head. Seconds later, she produced a toad from her own robes. "Her name's Joey Toad-bianni," she said. She held the toad close to her face and lowered her voice, speaking out the side of her mouth. "How you doin'?"
JJ's smile widened.
*
"This is bullshit," Cook said. "Acid pops, cauldron cakes, bloody pumpkin pasties-- All of it. Couldn't afford a bloody thing off the train. Feel my stomach, Freds. I've gone bony like Britain's Next Top Model."
"I'm not feeling your stomach."
"Feel my stomach."
"No," Freddie said, annoyed with Cook's persistence.
"C'mon, man, don't be such a pussy! Touch me."
"No, Cook."
Cook clicked his tongue to his teeth in disappointment. He turned and grabbed JJ's wrist. JJ's hand was well on its way to Cook's stomach before Cook said, "Feel my stomach, Jay-man. I'm starving."
JJ patted Cook's torso awkwardly. Seeing as everyone was crammed together at the tables of the dining hall, this attracted the stares of a few students beside them.
"I want to eat," Cook groaned, drawing out each word.
"We have to be sorted first," Freddie said. "It's tradition."
"Who gives a--"
At that moment, Severus Snape waltzed past them, beak nosed and glaring. Cook shut up quick, hunkering down in his seat. Snape took his place at the front of the dining hall and Cook let out a grumbling sigh.
"Who gives a fuck about tradition?" he finished, quieter than he'd started. "I'm hungry now."
The lights dimmed. Candles dropped from the ceiling. They remained suspended in the air, creating a pleasant ambiance as they spun slowly. Everyone stared in awe as a sparkler fizzed to life in the midst of it all. The sparkler danced playfully, stopping only when it had reached the front of the room. It dangled before the largest chair. In a puff of smoke, Dumbledore himself appeared from the fire. With pale fingers, he extinguished the straying sparks still stuck in his beard. He graced the students with a smile.
The room erupted in applause.
Cook tuned out most of the elder's speech, staring down at his empty plate. At some point, a wrinkled woman brought out a hat with a leathery mouth. Cook's grimed fingers traced the edges of his gold goblet. If any muggle could be bored with a ceremonious magic display, it would be none other than Cook.
"Naomi Campbell," the woman said, and Cook's blonde challenger from earlier made her way to the front of the room.
Naomi was visibly shaking. She perched at the edge of the stool and squeezed her eyes shut. The hat swamped her short bob of hair. It smacked its lips, humming as it contemplated.
"Ravenclaw," it announced boldly, and Naomi was ecstatic. She took the sorting hat off and bounded toward the table clad in blue.
A few names, a blur of faces, and it was Cook's turn. Freddie squeezed his arm and JJ stumbled over a word of encouragement. Cook held his chin high, puffed out his chest, and approached the hat.
"Let's do this," he said, sitting down haphazardly. If the stool teetered, threatened to throw him off, he didn't flinch. He stared out at the crowd. The hat barely brushed his crown before labeling him Gryffindor, and Cook went speeding off toward the table of roaring teenagers.
The Fitch twins came next.
Emily approached the hat with soap bubbles over her fingers. A second year with a knack for sanitation had used a scouring charm on her hands after discovering her incident with Risperdal. She gave McGonagall an apologizing look and wiped the bubbles off on her robes. The sorting hat dared to call her Hufflepuff.
Katie, without a doubt, proclaimed Slytherin. She strutted toward the green banners proudly, refusing to glance at her sister as she went.
JJ went after, and the sorting hat sat atop his head awhile. It used a variety of adjectives, all increasing in complexity. JJ bit at the edge of his thumb nervously. With the intricacies of his mind, the sorting hat nodded.
"You've got potential," it said, and dubbed him Ravenclaw.
Freddie felt swamped in his robes. He tripped over the hem on the way up and swore he could pick Cook's laughter out from the rest. His legs were too long for the stool's height. He struggled to stay upright. He chewed at his lip in worry, heart thrumming in his ears.
"The ones you surround yourself, you've stayed with through the years. You're loyal to a fault, which makes you an asset to Hufflepuff..."
Freddie's intake of breath was painful. The hat noticed.
"Interesting," it commented.
"What is?"
"Even when your personality is against it, you want to take after your mother. Your personality will never blend as well in that house, Frederick. It's going to be very difficult if I place you there."
"I don't care," Freddie said.
The hat's fabric shifted. Freddie couldn't see, but it was smiling.
"Very well," it conceded. Louder, addressing the room, it said in booming voice, "Gryffindor!"
Freddie was deafened by the screams of his house counterparts. He made his way to the table in a daze. Cook slammed into him, trapping him in an embrace, and Freddie barely noticed. He was distracted by the fluttering red of the flags above, the lion poised to strike.
"It's you and me, mate. It's always gonna be you and me," Cook said, pushing up on his tiptoes to speak directly into Freddie's ear. Freddie went crimson as the Gryffindor banners and hid his face in Cook's shoulder, returning the hug until all the breath was squeezed from his lungs.
It was difficult to remain quiet through the remainder of the ceremony, but Cook and Freddie sat still through the sorting of a girl with a ridiculous name, Pandora Moon or something. Inevitably a Hufflepuff, as if the outlandish innocence to her features didn't solidify that enough.
They were rowdy through the remainder of M, N, O, and P. Q and R went by in a blur. It wasn't until the ratty haired Stonem went to the front that they settled down. Thanks to Cook, Freddie hadn't caught her name. He was starting to wonder if he'd ever learn it.
Her eyes locked with Freddie's, cool and calculating, for the third time that day. Cook nudged him and said, "She's givin' me the look, man. I swear she is."
"Slytherin," the hat sighed, and it was no surprise. Every Stonem before her had been sorted into the same place.
The last of the familiar faces stood at the front with perfect posture, smiling with all his teeth. Freddie turned to Cook and dragged him close. He relayed the gossip Katie had told him about Thomas while they were on the boat together. Thomas hadn't bothered to correct her on any of it. As far as Freddie was concerned, that meant it was true.
"In Congo, you can play Quidditch wherever you want. Thomas was so good, Dumbledore fought the headmaster at Uagadou for him to enroll here," he whispered.
"Holy shit."
The hat seemed to be muttering to Thomas the way it had done to Freddie. It got through the first syllable of Gryffindor, and the entirety of Freddie and Cook's table gave a standing ovation.