[ Location: Hogwarts - The Great Hall ][ Date: September 2nd, 1991 - Breakfast ]
"I hate this," Shikamaru mumbled, his face planted on the Gryffindor table next to a plate of untouched eggs.
I sat down next to him, grabbing a piece of toast. "Hate what? The magic? The wonder? The moving portraits?"
"The stairs," Shikamaru groaned, lifting his head. "There are one hundred and forty-two staircases. And they move. It's a drag. Why can't I just walk up the wall?"
"Because that's 'ninja stuff' and we are 'wizards'," I reminded him, buttering my toast. "Chakra feet are a dead giveaway. Also, people here don't run on walls, they fly on sticks. Try to blend in."
"Troublesome," he mumbled, stealing a sausage from a first-year who looked too scared to stop him.
On my other side, Hermione was buried behind a fortress of books: The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 1, A History of Magic, and Magical Theory.
"Light reading?" I asked, leaning over her shoulder.
"I'm preparing for Transfiguration," she said without looking up, though I saw her ears turn pink. "Professor McGonagall is supposed to be very strict. I read that she can turn into a cat."
Across the table, Ron Weasley was shoveling food into his mouth like he hadn't eaten in a week. Bits of egg flew everywhere as he chewed with his mouth wide open.
"She's a cat?" Ron sprayed crumbs across the table. "Mental."
I stared at the partially masticated food in his mouth.
'Gross. Absolutely disgusting.'
"You know, Ron," I said, putting my toast down. "There's a spell for that."
"For what?" Ron asked, grabbing another sausage.
"Closing your mouth while you chew," I said smoothly. "It's called 'having manners'. It's very advanced magic, mostly found in civilized societies. Maybe ask Percy to teach you?"
Hermione stifled a giggle behind her book. Ron turned beet red. "Shut up, Frostwell."
Just then, a shadow fell over the table. Draco Malfoy sauntered over, flanked by his two gargoyles, Crabbe and Goyle.
"Well, look at this," Malfoy sneered, looking down his nose at us. "Potter and his fan club. And the new charity cases from the orphanage." He looked at my robes with a look of pure disgust. "Tell me, Frostwell, did your parents leave you any money, or are you surviving on school funds like the Weasleys?"
The table went quiet. Harry glared. Ron dropped his fork, looking ready to fight (or eat Malfoy).
I didn't get angry. I smiled. I leaned back, looking Malfoy up and down with clinical curiosity.
"Draco, right?" I asked loudly. "You know, I was reading about magical creatures last night. Did you know that excessive use of hair gel cuts off circulation to the brain? It explains... well, everything about you."
The Gryffindors snickered. Even a few Ravenclaws at the next table looked over.
Malfoy's pale face flushed pink. "My father will hear about this!"
"Oh, I'm sure he will," I nodded sympathetically. "Does he check under your bed for monsters too? Or do you just scream for him whenever someone hurts your feelings with words?"
"You'll pay for that, you filthy little—" Malfoy spat, turning on his heel to storm off.
'Telekinesis: The invisible foot.'
I stared at his left ankle. Tug.
Malfoy tripped over absolutely nothing. He flailed, arms windmillling, and face-planted directly into a large bowl of warm oatmeal on the Ravenclaw table.
SPLAT.
"Father!" Malfoy shrieked, wiping porridge from his eyes as the entire Hall erupted in laughter.
"Is probably wondering why his son is attacking breakfast food," I finished, taking a bite of my toast.
Hermione was laughing so hard she had to put her book down to breathe.
[ Location: Transfiguration Classroom ][ Time: 9:00 AM ]
Professor McGonagall was, indeed, a cat. She sat on her desk, watching the class file in.
Shikamaru walked in late. He looked at the cat.
"Cat," he stated flatly.
He walked to the back of the room, sat down, and closed his eyes.
The cat leaped off the desk and transformed into Professor McGonagall. The class gasped.
"Mr. Nara," she said sternly. "Perhaps you would like to explain why you are late?"
Shikamaru opened one eye. "Got lost. Stairs moved. Drag."
McGonagall's eye twitched. "Take your seat. And try to stay awake."
"No promises," he muttered.
The lesson began. We were tasked with turning a matchstick into a needle.
'Okay. Real magic.'
I picked up my wand. It felt warm, thrumming with a different energy than my usual headache-inducing power.
'I could just crush it with Telekinesis. It's faster. It's easier.'
I paused.
'But Telekinesis costs Mental stamina. It causes nosebleeds and migraines. Magic... magic uses Mana. It's a completely different battery.'
I looked at the matchstick.
'If I rely only on Psionics, I'll burn out in a long fight. If I learn Magic properly, I have two ammo clips. When my brain is fried, I can switch to the wand. I need to take this seriously.'
I pointed my wand at the match. I focused on the core inside my chest, trying to push that warm liquid sensation into the wood.
"Vera Verto," I whispered clearly.
The match shivered. The texture changed from wood to something smoother, metallic. But it was still blunt. A silver matchstick.
'Not bad for a first try. But not a needle.'
Next to me, Hermione was sweating, waving her wand precisely. Her match had turned silver and pointy.
"Excellent, Miss Granger!" McGonagall praised.
I frowned. 'I can't let her beat me. But I also need to save face.'
I looked at my silver matchstick.
'Okay. Hybrid style. Magic for the composition, Psionics for the shape. Grind both.'
[ Ability Active: Telekinesis.]
I didn't use brute force this time. I used a tiny, precise amount of mental pressure to sharpen the tip of the silver match while pumping more Mana into it to stabilize the change.
Sharpen. Polish.
The match finished its transformation, becoming a sleek, perfect needle.
"Mr. Frostwell!" McGonagall walked over. She picked up my needle. She frowned, testing the weight. "It... feels incredibly dense. Heavier than a normal needle. But the shape is perfect. 5 points to Gryffindor."
Hermione looked at my needle. Then she looked at me. "I didn't hear you say the incantation."
"Non-verbal," I whispered, leaning close so my breath tickled her ear. "Real wizards don't need to shout, Hermione. It's all about intent. But... I definitely need to practice the wand movements more. My wrist is stiff."
Hermione shivered, her face turning a lovely shade of crimson. "That's... that's N.E.W.T. level! But yes, your swish was a little stiff."
"I'm a fast learner," I grinned.
At the back of the room, Shikamaru's match was still a match. But he had used a shadow to make it look like a needle from a distance. McGonagall didn't notice because he was sleeping so peacefully she didn't want to wake him.
[ Location: Training Grounds - Flying Lesson ][ Time: 3:30 PM ]
The grass was green. The brooms were old. Madam Hooch had yellow eyes like a hawk.
"Stick your right hand over the broom," she barked. "And say 'Up'!"
"UP!" everyone shouted.
Harry's broom jumped into his hand immediately.
Shikamaru sighed. "Up." The broom rolled over lazily. "Troublesome stick."
I looked at my broom.
"UP"
Snap.
The broom flew into my hand with a satisfying smack.
"Up!" Draco Malfoy shouted. His broom came up. He smirked at Harry.
Then, the Neville incident happened. Neville Longbottom lost control, flew up, bounced off the castle wall, and fell. Crack. Broken wrist.
Madam Hooch took him to the hospital wing. "If anyone touches a broom, you'll be out of this school before you can say 'Quidditch'."
As soon as she left, Malfoy snatched Neville's Remembrall from the grass.
"Did you see his face?" Malfoy laughed. "Maybe if the fat lump had given this a squeeze, he would have remembered to fall on his fat arse."
"Give it here, Malfoy," Harry stepped forward.
"No," Malfoy sneered. He hopped on his broom and flew up. "Come and get it, Potter!"
Harry grabbed his broom. Hermione tried to stop him. "No! You'll get expelled!"
Harry ignored her and flew up.
I stood on the ground, watching.
'Okay. Plot point. Harry catches the ball, gets on the team. I shouldn't interfere with Harry.'
'But Malfoy needs a lesson in gravity.'
"Catch!" Malfoy yelled, throwing the glass ball high into the air.
Harry dove for it.
Malfoy laughed, watching Harry dive. He looked smug. Arrogant. Untouchable.
'Oh no you don't.'
I narrowed my eyes.
'Telekinesis'
[ Ability Active: Telekinesis. ]
I focused on the tail of Malfoy's broom.
YANK.
I pulled down. Hard.
"Whoa!" Malfoy screamed.
His broom bucked like a wild horse. It spun wildly, throwing Malfoy off balance. He slipped, his hands missing the handle, his legs tangling in the twigs.
He ended up hanging upside down, suspended twenty feet in the air by his ankle, his robes falling over his face to reveal his boxers (which had little snitches on them).
"Help! Help me!" Malfoy shrieked, swinging back and forth like a pendulum. "My father will hear about this!"
"I think he can hear you from here, Draco!" I shouted up at him. "You're screaming loud enough!"
The Gryffindors roared with laughter. Even the Slytherins were snickering at his underwear.
Harry caught the Remembrall in a spectacular dive and landed smoothly.
Malfoy's broom, finally released from my mental grip, slowly lowered the sobbing Slytherin to the grass. He scrambled up, red-faced, and ran away.
"That was wicked, Harry!" Ron cheered.
Hermione walked up to me. She was looking at me with that suspicious look.
"Malfoy's broom," she whispered. "That was you, wasn't it?"
I blinked innocently. "Me? I was standing right here, Hermione. Both feet on the ground. Maybe it was the wind?"
"There is no wind," she accused, but there was a smile tugging at her lips. "You didn't use a wand. Again."
"Maybe the broom just didn't like his hair gel," I suggested, leaning in. "But if I did save Harry... would that be worth points?"
"It would be worth detention," she said primly. Then she smiled. "But... it was quite funny."
[ System Notice: Relationship with Hermione Granger upgraded to "Friendly Rival/Crush". ]
Shikamaru walked up, dragging his broom. "Can we go? The grass is damp. I want to sleep."
"Let's go," I laughed. "I think we're done with cardio for the day."
We walked back to the castle. I felt good.
'I didn't break the plot. I just... enhanced it with humiliation.'
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