The Transfer

Disclaimer: Hey JKR, I'll give you $5 for it! No? Then I guess I still don't own this and won't make any dough from it either. Bummer.

So here we are, the first day of classes as promised. There seems to be a running theory in the reviews that it's going to turn out V/HR, but I can assure you, as much as they seem to fancy one another, that will not be the case. Also, here we learn the last of Vinny's Stu/Sue-yness, you've been warned… Thanks to all reviewers, reading them is inspiring.

Ch5 Busy Schedule

The next morning, I woke before my roommates (which was strange as I had gone to sleep after them) and found my way down to the hall for breakfast. I had been paying attention to the route Hermione led me up to the common room the night before and despite the moving staircases, I managed to keep from getting lost.

There was a small group of students at the Gryffindor table already, but I didn't know any of them, so I sat by myself and poured a cup of coffee while going through my bag to make sure I had all my equipment. Mom was right; my books were all waiting for me when I went through the drawers of the bed. Looked like a heavy workload for the year.

Wish I could drop potions.

Ron and Harry plopped down across from me and I was happy to see Hermione took the seat next to mine. They were talking about Hagrid and how none of them would be taking his class this year. I was about to add that I be wouldn't either when Harry said, “Well if it isn't Mr. Popularity!” He and Ron snorted back laughs.

“What's that?” I asked.

“Come on Vinny, you can't go serenading the whole female population of the House and not expect to get the piss taken out of you for it!” said Ron, eyebrows waggling.

“Sounds like jealousy to me,” said Hermione, eyeing Ron and Harry. “I happen to know of more than one girl who found the performance very entertaining.”

Oh? How about this girl next to me now? I thought.

“That so?” I asked.

“I believe Parvati's exact words were, `He can talk to me any night he wants too'!” she said in a high-pitched, overly sweet voice as she batted her eyelashes.

“Parvati? Is she the little Indian girl that was on the bed with Ginny?”

Ron seemed to perk up at my interest in any girl who wasn't Hermione.

“Yeah that's her. The one with the long hair,” he motioned from his head past his shoulder then popped his eyes wide, “and the big brown eyes. Why, do you fancy her?”

I chuckled to myself and took a bite from my plate, thinking how transparent Ron was being, but when I looked up from my breakfast I noticed Harry and Hermione both seemed to be waiting for an answer as intently as Ron was.

“No!” I said, swallowing my potatoes, “I just noticed she was there and didn't know her name is all. Jeez you guys…”

They all ducked their heads back to their plates and resumed eating while I looked up at the ceiling and saw a surprisingly pleasant day being enchanted across it. I don't think I had seen the sun shining so bright since I had arrived in Britain.

“Pass the juice, would you Ron?” I asked, “Hogwarts weather report looks good for today, Huh?”

“Yeah, good flying weather, eh Harry,” he said passing me a pitcher of orange juice. “When are you holding tryouts?”

I filled my glass and turned to Hermione, not interested in the usual Quidditch talk. She smiled politely at me and said, “You know that really isn't the sky. It's been--,”

“Enchanted to look like it. Yeah I know,” I finished for her, “I read it in the book my Dad got for me. Hogwarts, A History.”

There was the clang of silverware hitting plate and I looked back at Ron and Harry to find they had both dropped their forks and were staring at me. Ron had his mouth open and a horrified expression on his face, while Harry shook his head as his mouth curled in an astonished smile.

“What?” I asked.

“You've read Hogwarts, A History?” Ron squeaked.

“Yeah, like I said, my Dad got it for me so I would know something about the school I would be attending. Good book, lots of information.”

Ron ducked his head again and assaulted his food with his knife and fork like it had just spit in his face while Harry laughed to himself.

“What's with them?” I asked turning back to Hermione, but her face had a huge glowing smile across it that derailed my train of thought when I saw it.

“You've read it?” she asked in a small voice.

She shook off her ecstatic expression and said, “Sorry, it's an inside joke of sorts—,“ and she told me about how she had read the book before she came to school in her first year and had been quoting it to them ever since. It had saved them from a few `sticky ones' as she put it, but they still were too lazy to read it themselves.

“Their loss,” I said smugly and took a drink of my juice. After the first gulp, however, I spit it back into my cup and wiped my face on my napkin.

“What the hell!” I spat, “That isn't orange juice!”

Ron looked up from his meal and said with a sinister grin, “Nope, pumpkin.”

“Dude, what is wrong with you guys? Pumpkins are for carving into jack-o-lanterns, making pie out of and smashing on the sidewalk. That's it!”

The three of them all laughed at my expense as Professor McGonagall walked up to us, holding a roll of parchment and her wand. She looked as happy to see me as ever.

“Mr. DiFranco, despite our conversation last night in the entrance hall, I have to say that I am moderately impressed with your chosen schedule this term.” She didn't look at me as she spoke. Instead, she waved her wand over the parchment and gave it a few taps. “Do you have all of your books and equipment with you?”

“Yes Ma'am, “ I said raising my bag to show her.

“Very well then, here is your schedule for this term. If you need help getting to your classes I believe Miss Granger,” she gestured to Hermione, “or one of these two can help you there.” Ron and Harry looked up at her and smiled rosily, doing their best to earn points with their Head of House when they could.

“I believe you have Professor Fenella first for Ancient—“

But before she could finish there was a huge intake of air from Hermione that made McGonagall stop and look down at her.

“Are you alright, my dear?”

She turned in her seat to look at me with a smile even larger than the one she had when she found out about Hogwarts, A History.

“Oh, Vinny! I've been the only Gryffindor in Ancient Runes since third year! Why didn't you tell me you were taking it?” She looked like she wanted to hug me, kiss me - do something to me.

She stood up and took the schedule from McGonagall's stunned hand and squealed loudly with excitement.

“Arithmacy too!”

I just sat there nodding in disbelief. Harry was pounding the table, his head down and shoulders shaking with laughter. Ron had stood up and was looking at me like I had just spit in his face now. “Bloody Yank school system…” he muttered as he threw down his napkin and stormed off.

“Come on!” said Hermione, grabbing me by the arm and hoisting me from my seat, “We have to get to class! I'll introduce you to Professor Fenella and Professor Vector. They'll be so happy to have a new student in the class!” She reached down, grabbed her bag and hurried me out of the great hall.

“Miss Granger!”

“Oh…” Hermione turned back and ran up to McGonagall taking her schedule from the elder witch's outstretched hand.

“Cheers, boys.” She said to Harry, not noticing that Ron had left the table, causing him to spit his pumpkin juice across his plate with laughter.

She was a whirlwind of dialog as we crossed the corridors between the great hall and the Ancient Runes classroom. Like the ride on the Hogwarts Express, I didn't say much, trying to take in all she was trying to dish out while in the back of my head feeling panicked by the fact that, even though I was taking Ancient Runes and Arithmacy, it didn't mean I was getting good grades in those classes.

Worse still, I was pretty sure that the American version of Ancient Runes dealt with a lot more Native American symbolism and Runeology and less with the traditional Celtic and Germanic Runes of Europe. We had spent the second half of last year doing nothing but ancient Aztec symbols.

The classroom was empty when we arrived except for Professor Fenella, a silver haired witch with a grace about her that told you she was probably quite a looker -- a few hundred years ago. She looked me over and said that she had seen my transfer grades from last year, which made me gulp loudly as I slipped into my seat.

“Well if you keep tight to Hermione there, I'm sure you'll keep up,” she said, casting Hermione a loving look. Hermione beamed at the comment, her face the only bright thing about the classroom. The heavy stone walls were carved with Runes and symbols, most of which I recognized, though some of which, terrifyingly, I didn't.

As the rest of the class trickled in, I began to realize why Hermione was so excited to have another Gryffindor with her. The entire class except for Hermione, myself and one Slytherin girl that I didn't know, were all Ravenclaws, and thickly be-speckled, `swotty' Ravenclaws too.

Professor Fenella began her lecture and as I tried to keep up, I looked around and saw that I was in the wrong mindset for the class. The rest of the students, Hermione especially, were hanging on her every word like she was going to tell them the secret of life, or the next winning lotto numbers.

I concentrated hard and don't think I missed too much, but by the end of the lesson my head was swimming like I had just drank a fifth of Jack Daniels and my hand was numb from scribbling notes.

“Wow, she laid on the homework pretty thick for our first day, didn't she?” said Hermione as she heaved her stack of books we had been assigned for homework.

“Here,” I took them from her and tapped the stack with my wand so they shrank down to a more manageable size. “Know how to re-enlarge them, right?”

“Yeah, don't know why I didn't think to do that,” she said as she put them away in her bag. “Dark Arts next. You'll get to meet Snape.” She rolled her eyes, “Not that you want too.”

“Well he didn't seem too keen on Harry, but Dark Arts is one of my better subjects.”

“Oh? Well we had a little… study group last year where we all learned some advanced skills. So you might need to `keep tight to me' in this lesson too, like Professor Fenella said.” She stole a glance at me from the corner of her eye as she spoke, but I couldn't tell if she was flirting or teasing.

“Is that what I have to do to `keep tight to you'? Play dumb? Better hit myself with a Confundus then and be done with it.” There was no question about my intentions, I was flirting.

She cleared her throat and went a little pink and I thought to tell her about the dueling club at my school which I was captain of and how I had made it to the semi-finals at the national level last year, but it seemed like bragging, so I let it be.

We arrived outside Snape's classroom and were shortly joined by Harry and Ron, the latter still looking as happy as ever to see me.

“How was your swot class?” he asked bluntly.

In truth, I wanted to tell him that I felt like I had been put through a blender, but just to keep him ticked with me I said, “Fascinating. We got loads of homework, though. Hermione and I will be alone in the library all night.”

He grunted, sounding a lot like my Dad, and turned away from me.

The classroom door opened and Snape ordered us inside, his voice calm, restrained, but sounding like at any moment he could snap and go berserk at a random victim.

Neville stole the seat next to Hermione and Ron and Harry took a table, so I was left sitting next to Zabini on the far side of the classroom.

Snape began the lesson with a review of what previous teachers had taught us, or in his opinion, failed to teach us. He then went into a slightly demented speech about the dark arts themselves and how mysterious and abstruse they are. I looked around the classroom as he spoke and saw from the expression on Harry's face that I wasn't the only one there that thought he sounded like he was talking about a loved one, not a subject he was teaching.

The walls of the classroom were hung with paintings depicting some pretty nasty things. I could at least understand why he had hung them up, though. It was a kind of what-not-to-do gallery. He referred to a picture of a disemboweled person, well, not much of a person left in the picture, really. More what was left after it had been attached by something horrible.

“…provoke the aggression of the Inferius.” He said to the paining.

“So it's true then? He is using Inferius? For sure?” asked Parvati from the front of the classroom.

I didn't know what Inferius were, but I would much rather ask Hermione later than Snape right then.

“The Dark Lord has used them in the past,” replied Snape, sounding too reverent at the mention of Voldemort, “so, you would be well-advised to assume he will in the future.”

He walked swiftly to the front of the classroom so that his robes flew behind him and I couldn't help but be reminded of Romilda Vane tossing her long black hair to make sure all eyes were on her.

“Today we will be starting work on nonverbal spells. Can anyone tell me what the benefit of such magic would be?”

Easy one, I thought, raising my hand up to the level of my head. The lack of response from the rest of the class made me put it quickly back down, however. Maybe he wasn't actually asking the question to get an answer.

Snape looked over the class, never seeing my hand go up and sighing said, “Very well, Miss Granger?”

From where I was sitting I couldn't see her hand raised, but I should have known she would have the answer. She'd been ready for every question that Professor Fenella had asked in Runes.

“Your adversary has no warning about the kind of magic you're about to perform giving you a split second advantage,” she recited. I hadn't read that anywhere, and it was technically correct, but it was so rehearsed. It sounded like when she was escorting the first years up to the common room; she was just regurgitating facts she had read. Did she really understand?

Snape seemed to agree with me. He rolled his eyes and told her she was technically correct but didn't award her any points. Then he told us to pair up and attempt to disarm each other while also attempting to block the disarming spell. It was a pretty stupid way to learn silent spells. How will you know if either person has been successful?

The room dissolved into pandemonium as friends tried to join up with each other and people protested established pairings. Zabini, apparently in a hurry to not be paired with me, grabbed the dark haired Slytherin girl to his left that was sitting with the rat boy I met on the train the day before. I looked for Hermione but she and Neville were already making space to practice, as where Ron and Harry.

As I spun around looking for a free person, my eyes came to rest on the blonde boy from the train, as he did the same to me.

“Malfoy! You and DiFranco practice. Now.” said Snape.

So this is Malfoy, I thought and smirked at him. He had a bad reputation for such a little rodent of a guy.

He made a face at Snape behind his back and then crossed the room, staring me down as he did.

“Something funny?” he demanded. Oops. Is that smirk still on my face?

“No, it's just - Well, your reputation precedes you.”

“My reputation? Oh, I see. You've fallen in with the goody two shoes mob over there, have you?” He gestured at Ron and Harry as they tried to disarm each other. “Well, normally I would say don't believe everything you hear, but if you heard it from those two,” he leaned close to me and his eyes flashed, “They don't know the half of it.”

“Mr. Malfoy, if you haven't managed to disarm Mr. DiFranco by the end of the lesson, you will be putting the contents of those shelves,” Snape gestured at two huge bookcases, “into alphabetical order this Saturday night. Is that clear?”

He didn't respond, but turned and took a few paces then spun back to me with his wand at the ready. I took mine out and readied myself as well.

“Go ahead,” I said, waiting.

His face contorted into the most ridiculous expression as he brandished his wand extravagantly, finally pointing it at me.

Nothing came.

He sat there for a moment, the cool, un-phased look back on his face, but no magic came from his wand.

“After all that I would have expected to be transfigured into a Mini Cooper or something.” I said to him with a chuckle.

“Shut up! I'm sure you can't do it either!”

“Well, it looks like my reputation hasn't preceded me,” I said and reared my wand back over my head whipping it forward and sending him skidding across the floor with the force of my disarming spell. Best of all, his wand flew from his hand, end over end and landed neatly in my open palm.

“Bugger me!” came Seamus's cry, “Did you see what Vin just did to Malfoy?”

Every head in the room spun around to look at me and Malfoy as Snape pulled him up by his collar and chucked him back in my direction. He came to rest on his knees in front of me.

“Give him back his wand, DiFranco,” said Snape coolly.

Malfoy snatched it from my hand and returned to his position across from me, wand ready. I was waiting for Snape to yell at me, even though I had followed instructions, but to my surprise he said, “Let me see you do that again, but this time,” he turned to Malfoy, ”I want you to attack.”

“But Sir, I can't do a nonverbal spell!” whined Malfoy.

“The entire class is well aware of your shortcomings Mr. Malfoy, I am more interested in Mr. DiFranco's abilities at the moment. Now, use the incantation if you must, but cast a spell!”

I narrowed my eyes on Malfoy's little rat face and said, “Ready?”

His reply came in the form of, “STUPEFY!”

The bolt of red light leapt from his wand and crossed the short distance between us in less than a blink, but I was waiting for it. My shield surrounded me, protecting me from his attack, which honestly, wasn't even that strong.

The class stood dumfounded at what they had just seen, and at that moment I knew; they really needed to start a dueling club at this school.

“Mr. Malfoy, I said to disarm you opponent, not Stupefy him. You will join me this Saturday night, and I hope you know your alphabet better than you follow instructions.”

The rest of the lesson Snape had me sit down and read the next chapter of the textbook, as according to him, I no longer needed practice disarming opponents silently. I watched Harry and Ron get into trouble as Harry smarted off to Snape and landed himself detention with Malfoy on Saturday.

Hermione was the only other person who figured out how to cast a spell without speaking. I smiled broadly at her, thinking that next lesson, she and I were sure to get paired.

“That - was - truly amazing.” Ron hadn't let up since class ended.

Harry even forgot about his detention. “He's right, I'm jealous. I've wanted to do that for five years now and you get to do it after two days. So jealous…”

Hermione seemed to be trying to find something to be unhappy about with the lesson, but could only say, “Well I suppose you did what Professor Snape asked, didn't you? I can't say I agree with what happened but—“

“Can't agree?” exclaimed Ron and Harry, “Not two years ago you punched him in the face!”

“Yes but he deserved it then! This time all he did was have the misfortune of being partnered with Vinny!”

I shook my head, “Actually that's not entirely true…” and I told them about the incident on the train with Malfoy and his two bodyguards.

“Well then, that must have felt pretty good, what happened back there in class!” said Ron pounding his fist into his hand.

“Yeah, I didn't mind it.”

“Where did you learn all that stuff, though? I've done a couple of nonverbal spells accidentally but never with any control. Did they teach you that at your school?” asked Harry.

I came clean right then and there with the three of them about my dueling experience and skills, showing them the ring I had won last year by becoming state champion of California. I even told them how I had made it to the National Semi-Finals, only to be eliminated by an `eighteen year old' from Boston who had a full beard and more grey hair than my father.

“Whoa! I bet you know all kinds of jinxes that we never even heard of! Harry, we need to get him to a D.A. meeting!” said Ron in an excitable voice.

But Harry wasn't listening anymore, a forth or fifth year student had just run up to him and given him a message from Dumbledore. He had a meeting with him that Saturday night, and Hermione and Ron began speculating what he would be teaching Harry.

“He doesn't teach any subjects, Dumbledore I mean?' I asked.

“No. Not since he became headmaster,” said Harry his face full of wonder at what he would be learning this weekend. Then suddenly it brightened. “Snape will have to reschedule the detention too!”

We went back to the great hall and sat at the table for our break. Hermione and I had Arithmacy next, a class I was not looking forward too despite being in it with Hermione, so I relaxed and listened to them talk about Dumbledore and the many things he could teach Harry.

Hermione left Ron and Harry with a suggestion to start Snape's essay as we headed off to Arithmacy.

“They'll be up late tonight, you watch.”

“Not as late as me,” I sighed, “Do you think we will have Arithmacy homework too?”

“Probably,” she said, “Runes was more than I think I have ever had the first day, so - it would only follow.”

Great, I thought. I'm gonna be up all night, and we haven't even had my worst subject yet. Potions.

“So Vinny, I've been meaning to ask you, about your wand…”

“My wand? What about it?”

“Well, in Britain, wands are made from a certain kind of wood and a magical item, like a unicorn hair or a dragon heartstring. Your wand looks, almost - synthetic.”

I pulled my wand out and held it in front of us so we could both see it. It was an unusual wand, I knew. Fifteen and a half inches long but very thin and light, like a conductor's baton. I hadn't seen too many others like it in America or England.

“It's dragon heartstring, nothing unusual about that, but this wand has no wood in it.” I said.

“Really? I have never heard of that before. What gives it structure? Isn't a heartstring limp, like a noodle?”

“Yeah, it is. See, in the area where I live, the people who lived there in ancient times didn't have many trees to use for building or for wandmaking, or anything really. They used earth and rock, that sort of thing. This wand is coated in a solution made of dragons blood and ground scales, from an Ebonyscale Dragon. Have you heard of them?”

She nodded and I was glad, they were only native to North America.

“So they coat it in the solution and then they temper it in a fire stoked with…” I hesitated, she wasn't going to like this, “Bowtruckles.”

“Bowtruckles? Like, the little wood creatures that guard wand quality trees? Those Bowtruckles?”

“Um - yeah.”

“That's awful! You burn them alive to make a wand?”

“Not me personally! But, yeah that's how this wand was made.”

She had a look of such disgust on her face that I wish I had just made up some lie about how it was made and not told her about the fire, but then she asked. “Hold on, if there aren't trees in the area, how do they get the Bowtruckles to make the fire?”

“They import them -- Germany is where I heard they usually get them.”

Her face fell again, so I said as comfortingly as possible, “When they cut down a tree to make wands what do you think happens to the Bowtruckles that live in it? I'm sure they use the ones from a cut down tree for the fire.”

I didn't know this for a fact, but I guess it made sense because she smiled weakly at me and said, “Yeah, I suppose.”

“It's been a really great wand, if that makes it any better,” I said sheepishly.

She chuckled slightly and said, “Not really, no.”

So I reached into my bag and pulled out the quill I had been using that day and waved my wand over it, transfiguring it into a perfect crimson rose.

“See,” I said offering it to her, “Great wand.”

She took it and her face brightened somewhat. “You've even got the smell right, “ she said sampling the aroma with a smile. But to my surprise she waved her own wand over it and changed it back into a quill.

“You'll need this for Arithmacy,” she said as she handed it back to me and entered the classroom, leaving me outside, holding my quill.

AN-Dang! Left at the threshold with quill in hand even!!! Ah well, it gets worse next time as we visit, CH6 Potions.