WriteHaven

1st year: 2003-04 School Year

Logan sniggered and pushed back against a child he’d just met on the train ride from London, whom he now knew to be the younger brother of a student in House Gryffindor. After their spectacular trip across "Black Lake" on self-rowing boats, they'd been marched up the vaulted halls and lined up in-between long benches and tables in a great big hall that reminded him of the old buildings he’d seen in Boston back home. Hogwarts was far older though, and livelier as well. All around, students laughed and cheered as the talking hat – what the tall man up front had called the “sorting hat” – proclaimed different house names and sent the children scampering to be with their new comrades. It was all so strange and exciting and new. Logan had been excited enough at all the changes that had come just from crossing the ocean to Britain from the states, but now to see the wizarding world in its oldest and most magical form… Logan could barely contain himself.

At last it was his turn, and he stepped up to where the tall man offered him a seat with a smile. He turned to face the crowd, swooning for a second when he found all the eyes resting suddenly upon him, and plopped down on the stool. When the hat came to rest on his head, he heard a brusk voice in his mind that called his grandfather to memory.

“Hmm, let’s see here. You’re not cut from the same cloth as the children I normally sort.”

“I’m American,” explained the young boy helpfully.

“Ah, come here from all the way across the sea. How interesting. And yet, I don’t sense any apprehension. Why is that? Feeling a thrill of adventure are we?”

Logan smiled. “My mom went to school here years ago. I’m excited to see everything she grew up with. I even have family here!”

“Ah, the family connection. Very interesting indeed.” Said the sorting hat.

There was silence for a few moments, and Logan glanced up at the tall man uncertainly.

“Just wait,” said the teacher reassuringly. “He’s thinking.”

Logan nodded and did as instructed, but as he looked back at his friends in the line, he could see curiosity and uncertainty mingling on their faces. Even beyond theirs, some of the older students already seated were starting to watch him with a little bit of anticipation.

At last, the hat sighed, and he heard it’s voice in his head again. “You’re not an easy one to sort out, Logan from America. You’ve certainly got the fire of a Gryffindor in you… but your heart’s as big as a bear, and I think that’s going to be more important for you in the long run."

“Better be… HUFFLEPUFF!” The hat proclaimed aloud. The hall burst into cheers and the students all along the table beneath the yellow and black banner began waving him on with enthusiastic shouts. The boy Logan had been standing in line with seemed a little put out as they passed, but he smiled and bumped fists.

“I don’t think we’re gonna be in the same house.” Said the other boy.

“That’s alright, we can still be friends!” Logan replied. The boy smiled and nodded, heading up to take his place on the stool. Sure enough, he was sorted into Gryffindor after only a few seconds’ consideration, but he cast a smile at Logan as he headed to his table. Many other children Logan had talked to on the train ride and the boat ride were sorted into other houses that night as well, but a few of them found their ways into Hufflepuff too, and it excited Logan to know that he already had friends on his first day that he’d get to spend the whole year with.

That night when they unpacked their trunks, Logan hung his regalia on the side of his bed. He was a Hufflepuff now, and from what he’d heard, that meant most of his classmates would be the hardworking, friendly type of people he’d grown up around, which made him happy. His father was a squib, but even he’d been an intelligent enough man to find gainful employment in the wizarding world working for a wand-maker. Several of the men he’d worked with had told Logan over the years that they’d been sorted into Hufflepuff as well. Being in the same house as them made him happy, since he wasn’t to be a Ravenclaw like his mother.

He lay in bed that night twiddling his yellow-ish wand between his fingers, smiling contentedly at how perfect the color of the bois d’arc wood matched his house colors. It seemed it was meant to be.

The next day, he took to classes with excitement, and drank up every word he heard. In the days that followed, he learned much about the things he’d grown up hearing from his parents and began to get an idea of how their magical home and world functioned. He was delighted to discover that his talents on the broom were above average as well, and over daily meals his classmates told him that he should go watch the trials for the quidditch team. On the day of the Hufflepuff quidditch team trials, he gathered in the stands with quite a few other students and watched the affair with delight, cheering and howling the whole way through.

One more event stuck out to Logan and remained in his thoughts during the year, even though it happened so early on. Several students who had been present at the first night’s gathering were gone from that day on, as was the professor from the head table who had welcomed them the first night – the elderly woman with the stiff features and deep eyes. He learned that they’d gone to compete in something called the tri-wizard tournament. He eventually found out that he could get information about the goings-on from the school paper, and kept up on the events of the tournament, even keeping his classmates apprised once he found that they liked his narration style. It seemed that Hogwarts did quite well in the competition, though they didn’t ultimately win. This pleased him, and the general agreement among he and especially some of his Gryffindor friends was that they would someday compete and win the cup for Hogwarts.

2nd year: 2004-05 School Year

The new school year got off to a rough start for all of Hogwarts. A well-liked Slytherin named Archer who would have been returning for his 7th year died over the summer, and the rumors were that he was killed by dark wizards - Logan heard one student say "Deatheaters" in a very hushed tone. The first week of school, there was a memorial, and a close friend of Archer's rose up and spoke an inspiring few words at the end of it. The affair felt oddly distant to Logan, related in all ways to old wizarding feuds of Hogwarts' past, and students to whom he had no connection. But he did feel the connection that day, among the students of the four houses. It was easier to talk to kids in other colors, and folks seemed to want to understand each other just a little more. It was as if Archer's death had driven home something that had been on people's hearts for a long time, and that suddenly had been acknowledged.

Being officially old enough, Logan finally got to try out for the quidditch team his second year, and attained the position of beater, out-competing a fifth-year student who was a decent player but had apparently become interested enough in other pursuits that his heart was no longer in the competition. Some of Logan’s friends teased that he only got in because the competition rolled over, but Logan had also outcompeted three other tryouts for the position, two of whom were older than he. It was a good year, and Logan proved quickly that he wasn’t a B-list Beater either.

That year, Logan became involved in a spell-casting club as well, having found out from an older student that their focus was on the interesting applications of transmutation and charms, two of his favorite subject. He learned from club activities about the intense process involved in becoming an animagus – a form of transmutation that he knew to have deep roots in Native American history as well, though they had called such individuals Skinwalkers – but also learned that he was not allowed to attempt it. Additionally, during winter of that year, he visited his uncle in the highlands, discovering a bit more about his mother’s family, as well as having his eyes opened to a wide number of new wizarding occupational options. In particular, he found himself fascinated by the safety-related enchantments that his uncle created for wizards involved in the keeping of magical beasts.

3rd year: 2005-06 School Year

Hufflepuff had been doing quite well at Quidditch that season. With the addition of some new blood and fresh energy, they had managed to beat out both Gryffindor and Ravenclaw through the tournament until now at last, it had come down to Hufflepuff and Slytherin. The morning of the match, the great hall buzzed with energy, and everyone sported the colors of their favored teams. Naturally Hufflepuff and Slytherin were polarized, but as Logan glanced around over his breakfast, he was intrigued by the mixture of yellow and green he saw scattered across the remaining two tables. Of course while none of his Slytherin friends were going to show him any support that day, he had clusters of friends in both other houses who showed their support of his cause with their yellow patches or bands or scarves or whatever they chose to sport that day, but to a one they all sat across the table and mocked others of their own friends who had similarly regaled themselves in green and silver.

“It didn’t used to be this way, you know.” Said Charlie between bites of hotcakes. “My dad said days like today were really quiet days when he was a student. And you would have never seen anyone carrying another house’s colors at a game, especially Slytherin.”

“Is that because of all the stuff that happened a few years back?” Logan asked curiously, forgetting his tea for a moment.

“Yeah,” Leyla chipped in, “all the schools used to kind of keep to themselves until after all that business back eight years ago or whatever with Harry Potter and the Dark Lord.”

“It’s funny,” she mused, poking at her breakfast. “In the end, all the fighting changed was that everyone gets along better than they ever did before.”

“Wasn’t your oldest brother here when that stuff happened?” Logan asked, resuming his breakfast.

“Oh yeah, he was a first-year so he got tucked away for safekeeping, but he said it was a wild mess when they eventually let them out of the safehouses.”

Logan looked around the great hall and imagined it embroiled in a full-scale battle like the ones that had been described to him. It was indeed a stark contrast to the atmosphere that morning.

After breakfast they scattered off to their morning classes, but they paid little attention to their lessons, and their teachers didn’t try to go too deeply into the subject matter either. Everyone knew this was a day for Quidditch, not classes.

The sky was overcast when the student body and faculty made their way from the castle proper down to the stadium later in the day. It had rained that morning, so the air was crisp and cool, but all that was left now was a good highland shadow that kept the direct sunlight out of their eyes.
Logan stood in the tent and listened along with everyone else as their captain hyped up the energy that buzzed through them already. It came from their stomachs, it came from the air, and it came from the crowd in the stands beyond the tent. It was a good day for a victory, Logan thought. He realized with a certain degree of satisfaction that Harlow, the team captain, had very little to say about strategy as he looked around at his team. They had already demonstrated themselves to be competent, and the strategies they had drilled during training had neatly tucked away plenty of victory against the other two houses already. He gave them only one parting word of advice before heading out.

“Just remember, this is Slytherin. Some of the sharpest wits in the school get sorted into the team we’re about to face, so remember what we’ve already seen and don’t underestimate them, or you’ll get cornered and forced down before you can yell ‘hippogriff’.”

From the start, the players of Slytherin made it clear they meant business. Logan had never beaten the field so hard in his life as he did that day. He felt as though he and the other beater could barely make any offensive maneuvers for all that they kept being pressed into service as body guards for Leyla as she made her runs on the posts. Even so, the team was fit, and they played to their strengths at least as well as Slytherin did, making the intensity of the game only escalate as it went on.

During a brief moment of inactivity while the quaffle was retrieved, Logan glanced up into the grey sky and spotted the seekers, making their rounds. He watched as the new Slytherin seeker made her swaying rounds across the field of play high above. She was a third year like him but had only joined the team that year. He remembered her from first year broom instruction though; she was a tight flier. As she wove her path back and forth, he smirked, noticing how she jerked the stick of her broom in the opposite direction for a moment before sharp turns. He wasn’t sure if it actually gave her any extra pull, but she did seem to be good on the sharp angles, so he didn’t question it.

The moment passed, and he was back to beating the field free of obstacles for Leyla as they mushed on into the second hour of the game.

Eventually, a brief break was called to let the players hydrate. Some of the older players complained that such a break would have never been called in a professional game, but Logan and some of the other younger players, especially the other third-year beater on Slytherin’s team, were too busy stretching their limbs and carefully sipping water to complain. He glanced over with a small tinge of envy as the seekers traipsed into the tent for a cup of water, and then stepped outside to resume scanning the skies while they waited for the game to continue. He supposed they could probably keep up their end of the deal all day. Meanwhile, as the snitch continued to elude them, the score had risen up to 80-100 Hufflepuff’s favor. An unusually high score for a school game.

“Alright lads and lasses!” cried the coach finally. “Time’s up, take to the skies.”

Despite their fatigue, the players were ready to get back to it – the energy inherent in the final match of the season was more than enough to push through a sore bottom. Logan had conferred with his team during the break, however, and after having talked over Slytherin’s strategy up to that point, they had agreed to test something a little more aggressive. The second the quaffle was in play again, Logan and the other beater, Dane, raced off after the bludgers and immediately attained the high ground over the opposing team’s chasers. Working in cooperation, they managed to keep one bludger fended off of their own chasers while maintaining complete control of the other bludger and using it to harass and chase away the Slytherin chasers while their own enjoys relatively unhindered movement around the field. Even compared to the strategy they had been utilizing up to that point, it proved effective. The score was soon elevated to 90-130 Hufflepuff’s favor. Logan could see the frustration mounting among the Slytherin players as they fell behind, and it didn’t help their team cohesion either. They started to get sloppy, and Hufflepuff made another run on the post unchallenged, though the keeper managed to fend it off.

Logan had just smashed the bludger in their control off toward one of the Slytherin chasers when he noticed sudden movement high above. He glanced up and found the seekers bucking and weaving around each other – they’d found the snitch! He moved toward the opposing goals and relayed another bludger into the side of an enemy chaser, but he kept an eye on the seekers as he moved. He couldn’t help but be interested in the pursuit this deep into a game. They had pulled ahead of Slytherin, but not by that much. Slytherin could still win if their new seeker managed to outmaneuver Kirk somehow.

Slytherin managed to wrest control of the quaffle away from Leyla during an attempt at another score, but Logan and Dane were on him in an instant. To the chaser’s credit, he managed to evade both beaters for nearly three quarters of the pitch before Logan managed to clip him in the shoulder. Leyla and Bruno were both on it and pursued their own version of a tag-team strategy on their way back to the opposite post.

Things seemed to be going well, so Logan moved to follow and glanced around for the seekers, but they were nowhere to be seen. He was just winding up to knock the unofficially Hufflepuff aligned bludger back to Dane when he saw a little streak of gold zip in front of his nose. His brain took a moment to register that he’d just seen the snitch, but when it did, he jolted back instinctively, which saved him from a collision with the two seekers who blasted a scant few centimeters in front of his broom handle a second later. By the time his eyes focused on the field of play again, the bludger was upon him, and he had to catch it rather than beat it off again.

As Logan reeled, trying to manage the bewitched ball and get it back into play in his favor, his eyes scanned the field for an opportunity. He realized suddenly that somehow the tables had turned in his moment of distraction. The opposing beaters had ganged up on Dane, and had him isolated and surrounded. It effectively removed the beaters from the game as an influencing factor, leaving the chasers to their own devices. Leyla had the quaffle, but all she could do was race in wide arcs and try to guard the ball, because she’d been corralled by the opposing chasers in the absence of her beaters. Logan quickly formulated an intervention plan, and started to take a leading aim on the foremost chaser harassing Leyla, but something else caught his eye.

The snitch had taken to the low road and was leading the seekers in a series of winding circles, but those circumstances favored the opposing seeker and her sharp turning far more than Kirk and his notoriously swift pace. Even as Logan’s eyes followed them, he saw the dark-haired girl take a snatch at the snitch. They could lose it all if she made the catch! It was time for a change in tactics. Logan took a leading aim on her, watched as she jerked her broom in the counter-steering motion she favored, and then pounded the bludger toward the space she would be occupying in about two seconds. With that, he swiveled on his broom and blasted away after the chasers. The other bludger was tied up keeping Dane wrangled into a corner, so he needed another one. For that, he had only his own thick head. He was halfway to the opposing team’s circus act when he heard a painful smack, followed by a scream. He heard the crowd gasp and glanced back to see the Slytherin seeker tumbling through the air away from her broom. That hadn’t been his goal! Without thinking much, Logan drew the wand he was technically allowed to have but not really use on the pitch and snapped it toward her as she fell

“Expecto Patronum!” he cried. A bolt of white light shot forth from his wand and coalesced into a grizzly bear that charged through the air on determined paws toward the falling seeker. The patronus charm was a clever spell, and as long as he kept its goal in mind, the bear would catch and see her safely to the ground.

While the crowd on both sides began to cheer, Logan rushed ahead, swooped upward, and then shot down toward the corral of chasers surrounding Leyla. He was good at leading his targets, which made him a great beater. At this very moment, though, his target was the space between targets, so he cringed internally as the chasers bucked around Leyla, nearing their intersection point. He could argue that he wasn’t flying with intent to collide, but that wouldn’t necessarily prevent a collision. He neared the ground, the chasers neared the point of intersection, and suddenly he swooped through a pin hole in their ranks, taking hold of Leyla’s broomstick and dragging her down out of the corral with him. With a jerk on both their brooms, he pulled a hard turn and pointed her toward the Slytherin goalposts.

“Go! Fly!”

Leyla was a sixth-year student and normally spoke to him in the endearing tone of a doting older sister, but in that moment, she looked at him as though he were the quidditch captain and gave him a wide-eyed acknowledgement before leaning into her broom and racing toward the goal. A bludger came screaming at him, and he smashed it into the charging formation of chasers, knocking one of them into the other. He raced after the bludger and cut a line across their flight path, forcing them to slow and giving Leyla a further lead. He was cutting back toward the area where the opposing beaters had pinned Dane when he glanced up and saw Leyla’s shot fly through the right-hand goal post. The crowd cheered loudly, and then suddenly redoubled their volume at the announcer’s proclamation.

“Kirk’s got the snitch! Hufflepuff wins!!”

“Yeah!!” Logan pounded his chest like a gorilla and raced off to crash into Dane. The two of them spun slowly to the ground laughing and cheering together. The crowd roared, and Logan heard the announcer proclaiming something about a beater, but he was suddenly distracted by what he saw when he reached the ground. As the Slytherin team gathered on the pitch, their seeker stepped past her teammates and made her way toward the Hufflepuff gathering. She caught his eye because his massive patronus bear was still following her. He broke ranks as well and came to meet her in the middle.

“Hey, your… your bear won’t leave me be.” She said, glancing back at it a little sheepishly.

Logan chuckled and made a shooing motion at the bear. It turned as if to walk away and dissipated into thin air. When he glanced back at the seeker, he noticed she was nursing her left arm. “Sorry about the hit, I never meant to knock you off your broom.”

She glared at him for a moment. “I had that snitch dead to rights.” The glare held for a moment, and then relented. He found himself suddenly looking at a charmingly hesitant smile. “I suppose I’d have done the same in your place.”

Logan smiled happily. “I’m just glad you didn’t fall all the way to the ground from that height. Would’ve been a week in the hospital wing for sure.”

The seeker laughed. “Aye, that was a pretty good charm.”

“Do you know it?” Logan asked, suddenly eyeing her hopefully.

“No, that’s an advanced charm. I can’t believe you even know it.” Her Scottish brogue thickened as her astonishment emerged.

“You should come to my casting club some time, I’ll teach it to you. Then you can save me next time I get the bludger… Unless your patronus is a marmot or something.”

The two of them sniggered and she shoved him with her good arm. “Go back to your team Logan. You’re lucky you saved my hide, or I’d be setting your robes on fire.”

Logan backed away, still laughing. “Hey, I never caught your name.”

She turned back to face him with an artificially dainty shrug. “Winry McCloud.”

Logan smiled and waved. “I’ll see you around Winry.”

His team scooped him up before he could turn all the way around again and began tossing him up and down chanting “U-S-A! U-S-A!”

When they let him to the ground, Leyla grabbed him and kissed his cheek. “You brilliant little beater. That was the most fantastic piece of flying I have ever seen!” She called him little, but Logan noticed the big sister tone was gone, which pleased him immensely. “We’re going to be taking on a new beater next year, and you are going to teach them everything you just did today. I have never seen a game of quidditch won by a beater before.”

“I think it was that new tag-team thing we tried.” Logan said, trying to be modest.

“Oh it surely was, but Dane's on his way out, so I’m still trusting you to make it happen again next year.”

Logan beamed and rested his bat confidently on his shoulder. “I’m your man, Miss.”

The team – as well as the rest of Hufflepuff it seemed – cheered all the way home from the pitch and past the kitchens to their common room. Hufflepuff won the House Cup often enough, but they hadn't enjoyed a Quidditch Cup win in a few years, and their excitement was such that too many people hammered on the barrels at once, and a dozen students were hosed with vinegar, but one determined 5th year waded through the acrid torrent and hammered out the rhythm while the others rushed away, and their continued jubilation lasted the rest of the hour until dinner, at which point they swept triumphantly up the corridor into the great hall for the award ceremony and celebratory feast. The event was made particularly sweet when, in addition to the quidditch cup, Hufflepuff was awarded an additional 30 points due to Logan’s heroic rescue and excellent use of advanced charm-work amidst a heated game. He glanced over at the Slytherin table during the proclamation and found Winry staring at him with an expression thoroughly divided between a glare and a smirk. He shrugged back and smiled as innocently as he could manage.

The next day, during breakfast, a small paper bear pranced through the air of the great hall and came to rest in front of Winry’s plate. It read: “Charming Transitions Casting Club, half past six. Be there or be square.

P.S. I don’t think your patronus will be a marmot.”

As it turned out, Winry’s patronus was a hawk, and she frequently sent paper mache versions of it to divebomb Logan’s beverages at mealtimes during the closing days of the school year. On the train ride home, the two of them road in a car together with some of their mutual Gryffindor friends – one of whom was kin to Winry – and they parted ways at Kings Cross as unlikely friends.

4th year: 2006-07 School Year

The Tri-wizard tournament was held at Hogwarts that year, and Logan ooed and awed along with everyone else as the two other schools burst into the Great Hall on the day of their arrival with their marvelously choreographed showcase entrances. He was disappointed to learn that he was still too young to participate, which meant he would only get one shot at the tournament – the next one would be held at Durmstrang Institute in three years. Given that fact, he paid close attention to the tests, and learned as much as he could from other students. He even managed to figure out the clue for the second test with some of his friends from Charming Transitions, and formulate a plan of action which was similar to the one used by the winning contestant. Unfortunately that contestant was from France, not Britain.

“So much for the genius of Ravenclaw,” Winry complained on the way home from the test. Their contestant had completed the challenge last.

“Her plan was just too time-consuming.” Logan mused, reflecting on the test. “I think if it had been based on quality of outcome rather than speed, she would have won.”

Winry gave him a sour look.

“I’m just saying!” Logan held his hands up defensively.

“Well, the main point is we need to be prepared when our day comes.”

“How do they choose the contestants from the other schools?” Logan wondered. “Surely they haven’t brought the entire group of students old enough to compete.”

“They don’t,” said Henry, coming up alongside the two of them. He was Logan’s Gryffindor friend from the first year, and now a regular in Charming Transitions as well. “I asked the same question to one of the fellas from Durmstrang the other day. Apparently, they have drawings at their schools the year before, and the winners are informed over the summer. They attend their schools’ opening ceremonies, and then pack up and head off the next day.”

“Well I guess we’d better keep our fingers crossed aye?” suggested Winry, nudging Logan.

He chuckled and spun his wand idly in his fingers. “I’m not worried.”

The ball was set for the following week, and Logan had already begun practicing the traditional dance along with several of his fellow Hufflepuffs in the common room in the evenings, but none of the young ladies tried to catch his attention. They already knew he’d concocted a plan of his own.
The next day he hunted Winry down during his free period, and found her in the courtyard, with a group of her mates from the quidditch team. The Tri-wizard tournament was certainly the biggest bit of news on the block that year, but Quidditch waited for no one, so he wasn’t surprised to see them clustered together with their game against Gryffindor coming up. He cast a patronus, and followed the grizzly bear across the courtyard, allowing it to dissipate just before her so that he walked through the foggy nimbus to meet her. The other players were instantly suspicious, but Winry smirked at him.

“Are you suggesting you think I’m going to fall off my broom again?” She challenged.

“Pshh, no. I’m just suggesting that, were Peter to somehow find himself falling off his broom while trying to keep up with you, you needn’t worry about his safety.”

The players all laughed at that. Peter was a good seeker to be sure, but he often found himself hanging off his broom during inclement weather games.

“More importantly though,” Logan held out his hand, “I came to tell you that it would be my genuine pleasure to have your hand for the Tri-wizard ball in two weeks’ time.”

The whole team began to roar their protest when their seeker reached for Logan’s hand with a pleased smile.

“Winry!” said Luke, one of the chasers. “You can’t! He’s the enemy!”

Winry paused and turned to stare sharply at him. “The enemy?” she repeated dangerously.

“I’m just saying, he’s a Hufflepuff. And he’s not just any Hufflepuff either, he’s the Hufflepuff who stopped you from winning us the Quidditch cup last year.”

“Yeah,” chipped in Argo. “And besides, this ball is all about school pride and solidarity. It's no manner of insult just to say you should be going with another Slytherin.”

The team seemed to approve of this idea, but Winry stared them all down into silence again. “You know, Argo, you’re right. This competition is all about solidarity and school spirit. And the last time the tournament was held here at Hogwarts, Slytherin house wasn’t really at an all-time high of solidarity with their classmates from the other houses. Personally, I think it would be a fantastic show of solidarity if we each went with someone from a different house. I don't know about you lot, but I haven't forgotten when Thom Percy said at the beginning of my second year... We're all from the same house when it comes right down to it.”

She took a couple of steps back and came to a stop next to Logan, who was quietly admiring her fervor just then. “And you’re right too, Luke. He’s not just any Hufflepuff–” She reached over and pulled Logan tight against her side. “–He’s my Hufflepuff. I’ll see you lot at the field.”

With a triumphant smile, Winry spun around her new date and marched toward the school, arm still wrapped tightly around his waist. Logan glanced back at Winry’s baffled teammates and cast them an enthusiastic smile as the two of them moved away.

Winry sighed as they walked through the door back into the school.

“What’s wrong?” Logan asked.

“I didn’t bring a dress.”

“Don’t worry,” Logan assured, wrapping an arm around her shoulder. “I know some people.”

The very same evening, when the Charming Transitions club held their weekly meeting, Logan fielded the idea around to their club-mates and they eventually discovered a sixth year girl from Gryffindor who knew a thing or two about magical seam work, and another fourth year from Ravenclaw who had figured out how to turn ordinary tablecloths into just about any sort of fabric imaginable. He hadn’t tried anything delicate like satin, silk, or any other such gossamer, but he liked the idea of trying, and quickly paired off with the girl from Gryffindor once they’d taken Winry’s measurements.

“They were pretty excited about that.” She observed, watching them shuffle off together with a bemused smile.

“I really do like the people in this club.” Logan said, twiddling his wand with some transmutation he was working on. “They really are the best at making something out of nothing, in all senses.”

Two weeks later, the Tri-wizard ball was held, and Logan found himself standing in stunned silence with Henry as Winry appeared at the top of the stairs. He had known all along that Winry kept one side her head shaved fairly short, but it was rarely visible since she normally parted her hair down the middle, and he suspected she only kept it so as a sort of quiet little rebellion against the status quo. That night, however, she showed it quite openly. All of her dark, wavy brown hair had been swept to the left and draped over her shoulder, leaving the short patch to boldly declare itself. Yet at the same time, it boasted a gentle curve that started at her temple, and traced it’s way along the side of her head and swept smoothly down a line behind her ear, leaving the long hair to pick up again at the back of her head. It wasn’t all that much hair that had been cut short, but the effect was dramatic. Dane patted him on the shoulder as he passed by with his own date.

“Excellent decision, my friend. Now go be a gallant gentleman and meet her before she gets to the bottom of the stairs.”

As he mounted the stairs, Logan took in the colors and shape of Winry’s dress as well. It seemed their friends from the club had done an outstanding job in their efforts. She looked like the queen of Slytherin House. The dress drifted in lazy swinging motions with each step she took, reflecting little bits of light off the silky greens and silvers that composed her dress. He paused at about the halfway point of the steps and fluffed up his bowtie – it was a rich shade of gold and complimented her colors well despite being entirely Hufflepuff schemed. When the thought of green and yellow color schemes crossed his mind, he chuckled at the first image that came to mind.

“What are you laughing at?” Winry demanded, turning both her sassy glare and the full power of her scottish brogue on him.

“Certainly not you, m’lady. Your beauty is beyond contestation.” With that, he offered her his arm and escorted her down the wide stone steps toward the ballroom.

“How much do you know about nomaj technology.”

“Not a lot, muggle studies is an elective class for 5th years and up. What does that have to do with anything though?”

“Oh nothing important, I just thought of a muggle company that’d love to have us on the cover of their ads, what with our color scheme and all.”

“Green and yellow?”

“Mhm, but enough of that. There’s a dance to attend.”

And dance they did. After the competing trio and their partners had taken a turn around the ball-room, everyone else piled onto the floor and spun the night away. There were other dances conducted that the pair of them didn’t know, so they slipped off the floor for a bit and enjoyed the refreshments, but they soon discovered a cluster of their friends from the Charming Transitions practicing some of the new dances together and joined in. The night was full of laughter and music, and at the end of it all, Logan and Winry parted ways in the corridor with ruddy cheeks and tired eyes framing the delighted smiles that they wore all the way home.

As Logan approached the door of the Hufflepuff common room, he heard a fluttering sound behind him and turned to see. A paper hawk glided down to meet him, and he held a hand out for it to land on. At the last moment, however, it unfolded into a square of paper and smacked a kiss on his lips. Logan reeled back in stunned silence, and saw that a dark green impression of lips had been planted on the paper beforehand. It was smudged on his lip now, too. The paper giggled at him, and then shredded into a hundred little pieces of confetti. Logan sighed happily and tapped his way into the common room. It had been a good night.

The unlikely pair continued to stick close together as the year proceeded. And though it was marked by some substantial points of defeat for both their houses, who ultimately lost to Gryffindor in the Quidditch cup, and Hogwarts, who lost to Beauxbatons Academy, it was a very triumphant year for the two of them. When they parted ways at King’s cross that year, they were determined to stay in touch during the summer, despite the fact that Logan was returning to the states.

5th year: 2007-08

During the summer, Logan stayed in touch with Winry, and also stayed in touch with several other friends from school. The lot of them spent a good amount of time digesting what all they had witnessed during the Tri-wizard tournament, and several of them had determined that they wished to be ready, should they be presented with the opportunity to compete in three years. Logan spent the summer practicing charms and transfiguration spells at home, learning how best to use them independently and even combine them. Near the end of summer, he managed to get his hands on a heavy cloak made of bear-hide and determined to put it to good use during the school year. He also began to study a bit of wandlore with his father, as well as taking up his father’s favorite sport of boxing at home. His mother, not to be outdone, spent some time teaching Logan a few of her favorite charms as well, such that when he returned to school, he arrived in possession of an endless dimension tent of his own creation.

At Kings Cross, he quickly tracked down Winry, Nicole and Hawley who were his best friends from Hufflepuff, and Henry. The five of them claimed a car-room for themselves and compared notes on their summers, discussing all the things they’d come up with in preparation for the next Tri-wizard tournament. Nicole had spent her summer perfecting a list of potions that could be useful in all sorts of situations - including an improved version of the Girding Potion, which she was particularly pleased with - and had crafted a belt that would protect them, and also allow the wearer easy access. Hawley rather enjoyed broom-craft, since his father was a broomstick designer, and had spent the summer studying the method. He wasn’t done just yet, but he assured them that by that time next year, he’d have produced a broom faster than the Firebolt. Henry produced a scrap of paper with a formula scribbled on it that Logan immediately recognized as a partial transmutation formula.

“I’m not finished with mine yet either, but I need access to information at Hogwarts to finish it. Once I do, I’m going to attach it to a ring, and it’ll let the wearer pass through solid objects, as well as let solid objects pass through them. You got a wall in your way? Walk through it. Some dragon slings a bunch of barbs at you? They’ll go on their merry way. It’ll be grand.”

Winry had spent some time with a professional Quidditch team that year and heard them complaining about the lack of good protective gear, so she had gone home and come up with a charm for a necklace that would protect the wearer’s head from impacts of just about any degree.
“But it doesn’t stop there!” she proclaimed proudly. “I know such an enchantment wouldn’t be allowed for a game of Quidditch, but I couldn’t help myself, so I attached one more enchantment. It’s kind of a localized scrying enchantment that allows you to see all around you, as if you were a specter floating around your own living body and keeping watch. It’d be handy in a lot of cases where you needed to look behind you or see around a corner.”

When it was Logan’s turn, the first thing he produced was his wand, and showed them all the addition he’d made to the base of it with his father's assistance. “This is called a dueling ring. According to Ariana Rheinbolt, the top wandmaker in America, they were standard issue during the world wars. It keeps a memory of the last spell you cast with your wand, provided it's not too complex, and allows you to cast it again simply by spinning your wand in a full circle. You can cast up to four repetitions of a spell in a second, if you can get a good rhythm going. I can make one for any of your wands, if you like. I also got my hands on a sturdy cloak this summer, and I wanna talk with a few of the older CT members before I get started so I don’t ruin it, but I want to make an Aegis out of it.”

The other students ooed at the idea. An Aegis was an object enchanted with such an overwhelming number of protecting charms and counter-curses that it rendered the wearer practically immune to magical attacks. Most produced an effect similar to the skin of Giants, making a good number of spells bounce off or have diminished effects, but the very finest to have ever been made were said to have been powerful enough to even repel things like fiendfyre, and the killing curse.

“I’m really not expecting legendary status, but I think if I take my time I could build one that would repel dragon fire, and a pretty good assortment of jinxes and hexes too.”

“I’ll help you look into it mate.” Offered Henry.

“I was thinking on the way here,” said Logan. “We’re all putting good effort into this plan, and I really do think it’s gonna be one of us who will compete at Durmstrang, but that’s the thing… Only one of us will compete.”

Nicole smiled. “I think I know where you’re going with this.”

Logan nodded and glanced at Winry. “I’m happy to share everything I find along the way with whichever of you is chosen, if it’s not me. I’d even lend you my Aegis when it’s done.”

Winry grinned wickedly, spinning the chain of her necklace in her hand. “If it can’t be all of us, it should at least be one of us.”

“I’m in.” said Hawley. “We’ll make sure which ever one of us gets chosen for the cup has everything they need to win. It’s about Hogwarts, after all, not just us.”

The fifth year at Hogwarts was a very good one. Logan’s parents made it out for the opening Quidditch game, and got to watch Slytherin scrape a victory out over Hufflepuff, recovering from a continuous twenty point tail by stealing Logan’s strategy and chasing the new Hufflepuff seeker around the pitch with both bludgers while Winry acquired the snitch uncontested. They got dinner at Hogsmeade that night and got to enjoy getting to know Winry a little more, which thoroughly pleased Logan.

In transmutation class that year, Logan approached their teacher and explained his desire to become an animagus. The teacher eyed him for a moment, and then nodded. “I’ve been wondering when you’d make up your mind about it. You’ve been asking questions since second year.” After that, the teacher gave him a list of instructions on ingredients he would need to acquire, spells he would need to perfect, and, at Logan’s insistence, a minimum timeframe to make it all happen. He also made it very clear to Logan that he was cooperating partly out of a desire to prevent his student from forging off on his own and getting it wrong.

“You know, don’t you,” said his teacher at the end of the conversation. “If you manage to pull this off, you’ll be the youngest registered animagus since Professor McGonagall.”

Logan shrugged and smiled. “I still wouldn’t be the youngest one ever.”

The professor chuckled and nodded. The Marauders weren’t exactly legendary, but they had been discussed a couple of times - they were an exceptional example of animagi for a number of different reasons.

Logan worked hard that year, studying the spells and incantations necessary to become an animagus (as well as realizing that a few of them were currently beyond his grasp), working on his aegis, and also perfecting the design of some fast-growing golems he’d been working on. They were simple little balls of granite, but he’d learned of transmutation runes that could be carved on them and activated, causing them to become full-sized creatures that would do his bidding. Finally one evening, in a Charming Transitions club talent show just before Christmas, he sat on the floor in the presence of all the witnesses and scrolled a set of runes on a piece of paper, then cast the familiar charm they all knew well which turned the scrap into an animated piece of origami. It was a snake, and it slithered over toward Winry. As it neared, he flicked his wand gently and activated the runes. The snake shuddered and grew, higher and higher until it loomed over the entire assembly like a life-sized Basilisk and leaned down to brush Winry with its paper tongue.

“How about a dragon, or a unicorn? Hippogriff, anyone?” Logan flourished his yellow-ish wand proudly, and then took a bow along with the paper snake. While the crowds applauded and cheered, Logan came and settled into his chair next to Winry. He produced a granite orb the size of a tangerine and offered it to her. When she took it in her hand to inspect, her eyes found the same symbols on it that the snake had sported in front of the whole class only a moment ago.

“It’s ready.” He murmured.

Winry glanced down at the snake which had shrunk back to its original size at Logan’s bidding, then back to the chunk of stone in her hand. She cackled excitedly and wrapped her hands around it. “What is it? Can I have it?”

Logan gaped at her. “Winry! Didn’t your mother ever tell you not to ask for other people’s things?”

“No, she told me to be really charming about it.”

“Oh brother. Don’t forget I’m gonna meet her in about a week, if that’s a lie I’m taking my stuff back.”

“Pshh, fine.” Winry shrugged away his weak threat and rolled the golem seed happily in her hand. “Which one is it though?”

Uhmm…” Logan plucked the stone from her hand and inspected it, them smiled happily and dropped it back into her hand. “Unicorn!”

“Agh, can I pick a different one?”

Logan gasped and took the stone back again. “You are the worst!”

Winry pouted and clung to his arm. “I’m sorry! I’m not a girly lass I don’t like unicorns pleeease!”

Logan smirked at his horrible girlfriend and dropped the stone back in the pouch. “I suppose you do have more of a womanly charm.”

Winry smiled and turned away, but the patch of short-shaved hair on the left side of her head that she called her "wild side" availed her of little concealment despite the droopiness of her low ponytail, and he could see the very edge of a blushing cheekline.

“Here, Queen of Slytherin, you’ll find this one more to your liking. King Cobra.”

When Logan dropped the stone in her hand, Winry cooed as though it were a tiny baby snake. She reached up and kissed him on the cheek. “Thank you!”

“Mhm, just don’t activate it in here or the club’s gonna get my paper-mache's older brother.”

Winry held the stone up and inspected it closely. “Will it get that big?”

“If you want it to.”

“What else did you make?”

Logan looked in his bag. “I made… the unicorn and snake, a pair of panthers, a spider, and a gargoyle. I’m thinking of doing some proper stone golems just for the fun of it. Maybe give them clamp hands so they could restrain a big monster or something.”

“Can you teach me? Say over Christmas?”

“Sure, but it’s pretty complicated stuff. Especially the enlargement part. You have to transcribe the rune circle perfectly or your golem will have deformities that get worse the bigger it gets. If the deformity is bad enough a stone golem can even explode from the differential stress. It’s pretty intense.”

“Wow, yeah, so proceed with care… Wait is that… is that why you were all buggered up a couple of weeks ago.”

“Darn you and your spectacular deductive powers.” Logan grinned at her and tightened the bag again. “Yeah, my first attempt was a bear, and half of it grew at almost twice the rate as the other. It got about as big as my patronus before it blew up. That was pretty messy.”

“It didn’t ruin your little tent did it? I know that’s where you practice at night with your mates.”

“No, I was out in the field by the pitch actually. I had already read somewhere about that being a risk with solid objects so I didn’t wanna risk my club house.”

They both glanced up as the crowd began to applaud again. The same girl who’d made Winry’s dress last year had just created a grandiose wedding cake, ready to eat, from a bunch of sod and gravel. It was her way of demonstrating her absolute mastery of the conductor spell, and also creating a refreshment for everyone since the talent show was now over.

“Cake?” Logan offered.

Winry bopped him in the belly with her fist.

“And punch, got it. Don’t activate the snake golem.”

Christmas came around, and with a pocket full of gifts and holiday greetings from everyone at home, Logan and Winry caught a smaller train from the Hogwarts platform at Hogsmeade station which carried further into the Scottish Highlands. It took them out past the many lochs and glens that formed the landscape, and finally down an underwater track that reemerged in a somewhat uninhabited section of the Isle of Skye. Of course, by this time Logan had come to understand that “uninhabited” often simply meant “wizard inhabited”. The train dropped them at a station covered in snow where they got off with one other student they didn’t know, and a man whom they’d picked up just before crossing to the Isle of Skye.

“Merry Christmas, man.” Logan called after the other student with a wave as he climbed into a coach.

“Do you never get tired of being so nice?” Winry asked after the coach had rolled away. “My face would start to hurt with all the smiling you do.”

“Not at all!” He insisted, turning a painfully stark smile on her. “You’ve just gotta really work those smile muscles.”

She burst into laughter and swung away from him. “Oh gosh! Just promise me you’ll keep that put away at my house.”

Logan came up and hugged her from behind. “Hey, thanks for inviting me.”

Winry wrapped her arms around his. “I was starting to get chuffed at you disappearing every time a holiday came around.”

A coach arrived shortly thereafter, and Winry hailed the driver loudly as she bypassed the steps and dropped from the platform.

“Get down off that cart and come greet your betters, Glen!”

The driver produced and flicked a wand as casually as a cat, and sent a horrendous torrent of powdered snow smashing over Winry, who fell over backward with an indignant scream. She began to rise, but he flicked his wand once more and the snow covering most of her body turned to ice. He chuckled and hopped off the coach while she continued to struggle and complain in a dialect Logan didn't fully understand.

“Sorry about my baby sister, lad. She doesn’t know when to quit sometimes. I’m Glen.”

Logan reached out and shook his hand. “Logan, nice to meet you.”

“Aye, likewise. You know it’s funny, I was on my last year at Hogwarts when you and my sister came along. I remember that hat sitting on your head for a good bit trying to decide your house. Always wondered what’d come of you.”

“Here I am.”

“There you are. Welcome to Skye! Care to help me with the luggage?”

The two of them dragged the trunks off the platform, and Logan paused to cast a severing charm across the ice holding Winry in place.

“You took your sweet time,” she observed as he dragged her out of the icy snow.

“Well, first impressions and all that.” Logan replied. “I’m an eldest child too, I couldn’t leave your brother thinking I didn’t appreciate his retaliatory skills.”

“Oh heaven help me,” she grumbled, climbing onto the open-top carriage. “I didn’t know you were the oldest… that might be a deal breaker.”

“Don’t invite a Hufflepuff home for the Holidays and then break his heart over a little detail like that.” Glen chided, mounting the front of the carriage. “We’re great people, we older brothers.”

“I know!” Logan agreed. “We get such a bad wrap.” As he spoke, he stood on the step of the carriage and swept Winry over a few times with a fire-brush that bloomed from his want. It was a charm designed to bring people up out of hypothermia, but it was handy for warming up on cold days as well. Her glare thawed a little as he tickled her nose with the brush, and then he came to sit beside her and she curled up under his arm.

“All passengers being seated, the carriage will be moving along.” Glen proclaimed and flicked the reins tied to an unseen beast that Logan suspected was a thestral.

“So what house were you in, Glen?” Logan asked as they trotted along.

“Gryffindor, actually. My family is pretty well split down the middle between Gryffindor and Slytherin. Curious, aye?”

“For some reason I was expecting you to all be Slytherin.”

Glen laughed and flicked the reins again. “That’s often the case when two parents are from the same house. But when the parents are divided, the children likely will be too.”

The ride home was about as magical as anything at Hogwarts had ever been. Snow coated the landscape like a smooth white blanket, and all across the rising and falling of the hills, he saw houses of differing size and charm. At one point they passed a decent little cluster of houses built up between a pair of hills, and Winry pointed off at them.

“That’s Lansing proper. Most of the homes in this area belong to it.”

“It looks like a nice little place.” Logan said, watching enchanted lights wander around the roofs of the village, vacillating between different Christmas colors.

“It’s alright.”

“Winry doesn’t like small-town life.” Glen commented, not taking his eyes off the road.

Winry rolled her eyes at the back of Glen’s head, and then turned to Logan. “I mean, it’s true. I’d much rather spend my time somewhere interesting.”

“Like where?” Logan shifted to put both arms around Winry and regarded her curiously

“Hmm… I think I’d do well in Edinburgh, or maybe one of the tri-cities in Wales.”

“I didn’t think there was much of anything in Wales.”

Glen chuckled. “That’s very American of you.”

Winry grinned. “I mean, from a muggle perspective that’s very true, but the wizarding community is pretty active in Wales, probably for that very reason.”

Logan thought of what all he knew about Wales. It was very little. “Sounds like something worth finding out more about.”

Winry nodded. “You’d like it. There’s lots of squishy little Hufflepuff sorts living in the woods around the tri-cities.”

Logan grinned, ignoring the jab. “I’m sure they make it more bearable for everyone.”

At last, the carriage rolled into a crevice between two hills and rolled up to a fascinating building tucked in there. It reminded Logan of the yurts that he’d seen back in America, but it appeared as though someone had taken three of them and stacked them up on each other. They piled out of the carriage in a small port at the side of the house, and began to unload trunks. A woman who didn’t appear to be much older than Winry came out and greeted them. She was Alora, the next oldest after Winry, and Logan vaguely remembered her face.

“Aye, I finished at Hogwarts a couple of years ago. Been working with the Department of Interracial Relations ever since.”

“Interracial, huh?” Alora had come down to help, and of course Logan had to ask her all about everything.

“Oh aye, it’s great fun. I spend half my time at the ministry branch in Dublin, and the other half among the Baltic Selkies. They're actually the principle guardians of wizarding secrecy in the Atlantic Ocean.”

Logan paused, glancing up the stairs at her with renewed appreciation. “You spend half the year under water?” Only then did he take note of her distinct pallor, even compared to her siblings.

Alora smiled and nodded happily. “It’s great fun.”

The inside of the house was much bigger than the outside, unsurprisingly. Logan also found the interior to be a much livelier situation than the outside when it came to décor as well. It reminded him of a fancy lodge like the ones he got to visit when his father traveled to the woods during the winter months. And it was decked out with Christmas colors too.

“Welcome welcome! Make yourselves at home.” Shouted another female voice from across the house. A moment later a woman who looked quite a bit more like Winry than Alora stepped out of a room across the living area and flicked her wand over her shoulder before marching over and spreading her arms expectantly for a hug. Logan wasn’t sure exactly what to expect, but when mother and daughter clasped each other in a brisk, stiff hug that lasted only a second, he knew which parent Winry had taken after. It had taken him a year to break her of the straight-backed hugs.
“And you must be Logan, so nice to meet you! I’m Elaina.” the woman reached out and shook his hand in a brief and firm moment of contact, but her smile was genuine.

“Thanks for having me! I love your house.”

“Oh thank you, it’s home enough for us to be sure. It’s yours while you’re here too, of course. Just don’t forget to leave your boots at the door next time.” She wagged a finger at his feet and winked.

Logan glanced around and realized he was the only one still wearing more than socks. “Oh I’m so sorry!” He quickly kicked off his boots while the McClouds sniggered. The two students followed Alora up the stairs past the second floor which turned out to be something of a second house, and to the third floor which was a large collection of bedrooms. Logan was pointed to a room straight across the hall from Winry, and Glen stepped in to show him what was what while Winry went to dump her things in her room.

“This is a really big house.” Logan observed, sliding his trunk up at the foot of the bed.

“Aye, father’s added to it over the years. There’s a cellar beneath as well. You’d think we used all this space but we really don’t. Mom just likes to have everything in its place, so there’s got to be a place for everything.”

“So was this originally not a three-story home?”

Glen chuckled. “No, it was originally a cottage. They built it up to the first floor you saw, and then the second when they had my older sister. Then when Alora came along after me they decided to add this floor, and make it all bedrooms in case they wanted any more kids.”

“So you’re not actually the oldest.” Logan commented, leaning against his bed.

“No, but I am the only brother. After Alora and Winry they decided trying for another boy wasn’t worth the risk.”

The two of them cackled for a moment, but Logan wasn’t going to indulge in too much slander of his girlfriend when she was probably in easy earshot. “What do you do now?”

“Hm I work with a couple of lads out of Glasgow. We make floo powder, inglorious as that sounds. We specialize in long-range powders though, so we do pretty well for ourselves.”

“I’d heard that a couple of different wizards had cracked the formula for floo powder in the 90s, but I’ve never heard of long-range floo powder. What’s the farthest a floo can take you?” Logan wondered.

Glen shrugged, “It’s really only depends on the floo network connection. How far do you like to go?”

“America?”

“Aye, it can be done, but it’s pretty expensive. Among other factors, long distance floo powders have to be concentrated quite a bit more. You can make about three kilos of regular floo powder with the same amount of ingredients as half a kilo of long distance powder. And don’t even get me started on the accuracy issue. Regular floo powder would disperse you to the four winds if you tried to cross the Atlantic with it.”

“I never realized it was so complicated.” Logan furrowed his brows thoughtfully.

“Oh aye, there’s an art to it for sure. There’s a reason it took the rest of the wizarding world almost five hundred years to figure out Wildsmith’s formula - that woman was a genius. But the real reason we’re doing well is because we figured out how to sort the distance issue.”

“Tell him about it some other time,” Winry suggested, perching in the doorway.

“Sure, go ahead and unpack. There’ll be stuff to nibble on by the time you’re done.”

Winry wiped the spot off her forehead where Glen had kissed her on his way out, and came to sit on Logan’s bed. “So yeah, my family’s a little much at times.”

“Nah, they’re great.” Logan smiled and pushed off the bed, moving to unpack his trunk. The first thing he did, however, was pull out his tent and glance around the room.

“Ooh!” Winry pounced off the bed and trounced over beside Logan. “Are you gonna pitch it?”

“Yeah,” Logan spotted a closet and moved to open it. “What’s in here?”

“Nothing.”

Sure enough, there was nothing but a couple of hangers in the closet and a small chest of drawers tucked off to one side.

“Perfect!” Logan held up the top of the tent with one hand and drew his wand with the other, flicking it gently. “Recreantos.”

The tent began to spread out and straighten itself, popping and pinging as the pins inside the folds of fabric locked together, and finally settled onto the floor with a dull internal flash as the pocket dimension within merged with the outer fabric. At last, there stood in the closet a three foot tall rain-canvas tent with grey and gold highlights that appeared appropriate for housing a small dog. Winry stared at it blankly.

“That’s it?”

Logan glanced back at her in confusion. “What were you expecting?”

“Something more… well, more.”

Logan laughed and held a hand out toward her. “You literally grew up in a pocket dimension, you should know better. Come see!”

Winry came forward, eyeing the tent skeptically, and leaned down to poke her head in, absently taking Logan’s hand at the same time. After a moment, she gasped and pulled her head back out. “It’s huge!”

As she swung her head out of the opening to glance up at him, Logan nodded proudly. “600 square feet.”

“Oi, I’m no American.”

“Oh uhm… geez, you’d think I’d be better at this after five years in Britain.” Logan pulled a cell phone out of his pocket and pulled up the calculator. Winry stared at it with the same degree of confusion she had given the tent a moment ago. He noticed her face just as he was finishing the number swap, and grinned. “Never seen a muggle phone before?”

Winry shook her head slowly. “What does it do?”

Logan grinned and backed out of his screen. “It does a lot of things. I can call and talk to other people who have phones, as long as I have the number that goes with their phone, which my phone can store. I can send them little written text messages. I can take pictures- “ Logan turned his phone around and took a selfie with Winry, capturing his gleeful smile and her blank confusion “ -and send those to other phones if I want. I can even store music on here and listen to it with these little things called earbuds, or sometimes headphones if they’re really big.”

Winry took the phone from him and poked at the buttons below the screen. “I don’t understand. I thought muggles didn’t have any kind of magic at all but this… surely there has to be some kind of enchantment on this little box for it to do all that.”

Logan shook his head, still smiling. “Nope, it’s just technology. This thing is powered by electricity, stores information using these little things called data chips, and sends and receives from other phones using a signal similar to radio waves.”

“Powered by electricity… good heavens. I think I might take that muggle studies course next year after all.”

“You should. I think you’d enjoy it.” Logan took the phone back from her and dropped it into his pocket.

“Oh wait, can I see how it plays music?” Winry stared at his pocket, and for a moment she almost reminded him of a saddened puppy. He laughed and threw an arm over her shoulder.

“I’ll dig out my earbuds later, we can listen to all the music you want. It’s Christmas break, after all. There are no rules on who stays in which room.” Logan glanced at the door. “…or in whose tent.” That being said, he casually slid the closet door shut, hiding the tent entirely from view.
Winry watched the tent disappear with a growing smile, and then leaned in and kissed him on the lips. “And here I thought you Hufflepuffs were all straight-laced.”

Logan winked and tugged on her hand, heading toward the door. “We’re a lot of things.”

Winry’s father arrived later that day with the eldest daughter in tow. Apparently the floo in their living room wasn’t working properly, so they’d all been having to use one of the floo stations in town for the trips too far for apparition. Logan regarded them warmly as they made their rounds greeting the family and noticing that they looked very alike. However, he knew by process of elimination that they were the last two representatives of Gryffindor and Slytherin, which meant they probably weren’t all that alike.

“You must be Logan! Pleasure to meet you lad, I’m Angus. You know, I was there two years ago when you knocked Winry off her broom at Hogwarts. I half expected to find out her classmates had tried to slip a slug potion into your breakfast or something, but I never thought to see you standing here in my house.”

Logan laughed along with him and shrugged against the awkwardness. He’d almost hoped that had been forgotten by now.

“Anyway,” continued Angus. “You redeemed yourself in my book with that excellent patronus, so it’s all water under the bridge, as they say.”

Logan grinned. “And of course, Gryffindor pounded both of us out of the tournament last year using my strategy, so really karma’s come full circle.”

Angus laughed and finally let go of his hand. “There you go lad, all’s right with the world aye? Glad to have you.”

The eldest sister was standing in line waiting patiently behind her father, and the expression she wore when he finally passed suggested his enthusiasm was a pretty regular impediment to her preferred pace. She stepped forward with a pleasant smile and offered him a handshake not quite as stilted as her mother’s, but still firm. “Saoirse, nice to meet you.”

“Logan, likewise.”

Saoirse tugged him forward by his hand and leaned in with a conspiratorial glance in the direction of her father’s voice. “Listen, if you want, I can give you a short list of topics to avoid in conversation with papa so he doesn’t talk your ear off for the next two weeks – you’re staying for the whole holiday, right? Good – but yes, just as a sort of… early Christmas present.”

Logan grinned, trying to contain his laughter. “I might regret refusing you but… I think I can manage.”

Saoirse smirked and crossed her arms, eyeing him appraisingly. “Hm, well my offer stands until this time tomorrow.”

Logan placed a hand on his chest. “That actually makes me feel better.”

The eldest daughter cackled and shook her head, moving past him. “Welcome to the Stackhouse.”

Dinner that night was a lively occasion, with much shouting and badgering taking place the whole way through. Angus sat at the head of the table, and Glen sat at the tail, where they spoke in loud tones to each other the entire night when they weren’t going after one of the others about something. Elaina elected to sit between her husband and Winry, holding quieter conversation with her newly arrived daughter in more civil tones. This only left space for Logan to sit across the table from Winry beside Saoirse, since Alora had already taken the chair on Winry’s other side. It ended up being an excellent place for him to sit and get to know the rest of the family, however.”

“It’s a pity Anders couldn’t be here this evening,” Angus commented, turning to Saoirse. “What did you say it was that kept him again? Something about dragons?”

“Aye, they had an issue with a French Man-o-War that got loose from the rehabilitation preserve down in Bordeaux. They had to obliviate three muggles the day it got out, but he said he’s got it pretty well isolated out in the wild now. They’re looking into relocating it to a natural habitat since it’s so strong. If that happens he might be here for Hogmanay.”

“That’d be lovely.”

Logan leaned around Saoirse and inserted himself into the side of the conversation. “Who’s Anders?”

“He’s my fiancée,” Saoirse explained, looking pleased with herself. “He works for Baron & Brock rehabilitating magical beasts.”

“That’s cool.”

“Yes, he’s very good with them. He mainly works for a preserve in Germany tending to hippogriffs, but he’s really quite good with the whole lot of them. Animals just get along with him.”

Logan nodded sagely. “Sounds like my kinda guy.”

Saoirse grinned at him a little ruefully. “Aye, he uh… he was a Hufflepuff too.”

Logan leaned back in surprise and glanced over at Winry – she was still embroiled in conversation with her mother. He turned back to Saoirse and Angus with an amused smile on his face. “Hmm.”

Before long, Elaina was running the whole family out of the dining room and whisking her wand over the table with a number of levitation and directive spells. She was apparently the master of her kitchen in all respects, because they cleared out pretty quickly.

“Do you need any h– “

“No I’m quite alright, thank you.” Elaina insisted, cutting Logan off. “Run along, there’s pudding in the living room. If you want to help you can make sure they do what’s right and save me some.”

Saoirse chuckled as Logan emerged from the dining room and pinched his cheek. “You’re so sweet, I can see why Winry hangs around you.”

Logan rubbed his cheek and followed her into the living room. He saw very quickly that Elaina’s concern was a valid one. Half the cookies – biscuits, he corrected himself – were already gone. He quickly reached in and grabbed two handfuls. Glen began to protest but Saoirse shut him down quickly.

“Don’t you dare complain, piggy. He’s looking out for mum.”

Once Elaina was finished and joined the crowd, they continued chattering on for awhile, but one after another they began complaining of weariness and started bowing out. Eventually it was just the two of them and Glen, who took one look at his sister edging closer to her boyfriend, and produced a generic excuse for bowing out. He paused to collect the rest of the unclaimed biscuits on his way out.

When he was gone, Winry glanced at Logan with a hint of a grin, and wrapped her arms around him. “Finally have you all to meself.”

“I don’t know how your family ever gets along without you.” He replied, wrapping an arm around her shoulder.

“Oh they’re fine. They just get all clingy cuz I’m gone so much more of the year than the rest of them. They’ve really gotten spoiled with Glen giving them family discounts on his fancy floo powders. I swear they have a family dinner once every two weeks.”

“Wow.”

“Aye, needless to say I don’t necessarily mind being at Hogwarts most of the year.” Winry suddenly wrapped her arms around Logan’s arm and smiled pleadingly at him. “Music?”

“Alright come on, let me introduce you to the wonders of MP3 players.”

“What’s an… MP3?”

“It’s the type of file music is stored in on these devices. They make devices just for playing music too, without all the other stuff.”

“I want one.”

“Goodness, you don’t even know if you like muggle music yet.”

“It hardly matters. I like music. I don’t have anything as small as a little box that I can carry music around in.”

Up on the third floor, they crept into Logan’s room and into the tent, shutting the closet door behind them. The inside of the little tent was a single, spacious open room with a pole in the center holding the ceiling up. The floor was a scattering of rugs and scraps of carpet, and around the edges of the tent were a couple of pieces of furniture, a table with a few essential pieces of alchemy equipment, and in the far right corner, a couch big enough to be a bed with a blanket and cushions tossed all over it. Winry ran across the tent and dove onto the couch, sending the edges of the blanket foofing up around her.

Logan snickered and came to join her, dropping down on the couch beside her. Winry immediately rolled over on top of him and kissed him. Logan forgot about the music for a few minutes, as Winry seemed to have already done. Eventually she came up for a breath and rolled over beside him, kissing his cheek a few more times. “Happy Christmas.”

Logan turned and kissed her nose. “And to you my lady.”

Winry squirmed down into the cushions beside him and wrapped herself around one side of him. “Okay, music.”

Logan produced a set of green earbuds from his pocket and plugged them into his phone, then called up the music screen and sifted through until he found an album he liked. “Here you go, Nightwish. It’s a group from Finland… Elvenpath, there we go.”

“Elven path? Is this gonna be some kind of stupid kids’ song?”

“Hm? Oh!” Logan laughed aloud. “I forget sometimes. No, the concept of an elf has really evolved in muggle culture over the years. Like, you wouldn’t recognize it. They’re glorified to the point of almost being angelic compared to humans in most fiction.”

Winry gaped. “Are you serious?”

“Yeah. They used to be more like they actually are, but you know how stories change over time. An author called Tolkien came along and completely changed it all for good. The elves in his story were tall and graceful, fair-skinned, far-seeing immortals. Not to mention some of the most fantastic archers ever.”

“That is so bizarre.”

“Anyway, his stuff is mentioned a little in this song, but listen.”

Logan tapped the screen and the music began to play. Winry sat quietly during the intro to the song, appearing only marginally curious at the voice in her ear, but when the first instrumental chords struck and she heard the entire orchestral score roll out of the tiny piece in her ear, she jerked back in surprise. Then she squirmed a little and leaned her head against Logan’s shoulder, carried away by the music. They sat quietly on the couch that night and listened to the whole album, plus two more from other artists before leaving the tent and going to bed.

The next morning, Winry mentioned the music phone over breakfast, and there was an immediate demand to see the object in question. Logan bashfully produced his muggle artifact and placed it on the table, turning on an album of Christmas music by the Trans-Siberian Orchestra. Alora immediately slid it to herself and inspected it.

“It works like a gramophone I suppose?”

“Basically, yeah. But it’s much more advanced. There’s just over 300 songs in there. And they’ve designed dedicated players that can hold as many as a thousand.”

“A thousand songs in a box the size of a cheese grater!” Elaina exclaimed. “Glen, you must get me one of those.”

“Aye, sure thing mum – laws be damned. Hey Logan, that’s a phone too, isn’t it? Why do you have a muggle phone? Are your parents muggles?”

Logan gulped back a swig of milk and shook his head. “No, but my dad’s a skip, err- a squib, so he kinda lives with one foot in both worlds.”

“A squib you say?” Elaina asked. “And what does he do for a living? Some kind of muggle occupation?”

“No, he actually works for a wandmaker. Have any of you heard of Ariana Rheinbolt?”

Everyone shook their heads around the table except Alora, who tapped her lower lip for a thoughtful moment and then seemed to recall something. “Yes! She’s been getting a lot of acclaim lately hasn’t she?”

Logan nodded enthusiastically. “Yeah, she’s kind of the up-and-coming preeminent wandmaker in America.” He took out his wand and set it in the middle of the table. “She made mine, and both of my siblings’ wands too. Everyone in my family except for my mom actually. She’s still got her original Ollivander wand.”

“Oh is she British?” Elaina questioned, seeming to become more intrigued in Logan’s family with each answer she got.

“She is, yes ma’am. She went to Hogwarts, which is why I did. Both of my siblings had lots of friends going to Ilvermonry though, so they stayed in America.”

“And what exactly does your father do for this Rheinbolt lady?” Angus asked, eyeing the wand curiously.

“He’s her chief stave collector. She says he’s got some kind of latent magical awareness, cuz the staves he brings her usually turn out to be some of her best wands.”

“Interesting. And with American wood varieties too. I’d imagine your magic tends to behave a little differently. What is that one made of?”

“Osage orange wood. The French call it bois d’arc because they and the native Americans used it so much for bows in centuries past. Nowadays most Americans call it bodark.”

Angus chuckled. “Anglicism at its finest. That’s a fine-looking wand though. I like the dueling ring too, adds a nice sort of old-school flare to it doesn’t it?”

“Works pretty well too.” Logan added proudly.

“Oh it’s functional? Oh well that’s another matter altogether.”

The whole lot of them jabbered on about wands till Elaina ran them out of the dining room again. It seemed to Logan that they were adept at relaxing in Winry’s family, which amused him, since half of them had apparently fit right into Slytherin house during their school days. Elaina joined them after a bit and interrupted Glen’s bad joke.

“Instead of beating your dead horse of a joke why don’t you have a look at our floo, darling?”

Glen pouted at her and drug himself off the couch to go have a look. When he stepped into the fireplace, his clothes immediately began to crackle with a dull green flame. “Oh, is this what’s going on then?”

“Aye,” said Angus. “It’s been like that for the last few weeks. We were on our way to – “

“ – Saoirse’s place?” Glen finished.

“Aye.” Angus regarded him curiously. “How’d you know?”

Glen squinted. “I’m standing halfway in her living room right now. Is that a new sofa, sister?”

Saoirse grinned. “Aye, it is. Finally got rid of that old thing last week. Early Christmas present from Anders’ mum.”

“Very nice.” Glen stepped out of the floo and began slapping at the little green flames all over his clothes. “So, this is a little thing that’s been coming up lately with our regulars. One of the agents we add to our floo powder for accuracy also extends the life of the apparition corridor. It hasn’t been widely documented just because we're only now bringing long-distance floo powder onto the market, but that accuracy agent actually builds up in the walls of the floo over time and eventually forms a static link between whichever two floos it happens to be connecting when the aggregate powder finally reaches critical mass. Saoirse, have you had this issue as well?”

Saoirse shook her head. “I only use my floo to come here. When they said theirs wasn’t working I hadn’t bothered.”

“Hmm, well you’d have seen the same thing at your end if you tried. Fortunately, I have a solution. I’ll brew it up for you mum, your floo should be working before dinner.”

“Thank you, Glen.”

“How come you’re able to produce so much long-distance floo powder so affordably?” Logan asked suddenly.

Glen smirked and glanced at his father. “Well, I already tend to think I can trust you, so I’ll let you in on my trade secret I suppose. But don’t go blabberin’ about this to all your friends or I’ll come skin your cat in the night.”

Logan looked stricken. “I don’t have a cat.”

“Then I’ll skin your dog, whatever, you understand? Anyway, you should be able to appreciate it since your dad is basically doing the same thing for the wandmaker lady. One of the major ingredients in floo powder is very expensive you see, because it has all sorts of magical properties when it’s activated, depending on how you do it. Needless to say, it’s very expensive and very sought-after in the wizarding world. As it just so happens, though, this particular ingredient is of very little use when not activated and is bought and sold on the muggle market for about the price of good quality dirt. So one of my business partners, a squib by the name of Tindal, purchases this stuff in bulk from a muggle supplier through the little greeting card print shop we run in Glasgow, and we then put it to use in our little alchemy lab in back while he continues to do business with muggle tourists in the storefront. There isn’t one in a million wizards who’s made this connection yet, mainly because they don’t even know the formula for ordinary floo powder, but if they did so anytime soon, our nice little operation could shrink drastically inside a month.”

“So not a word to my own parents about it. Got it.”

Glen winked. “That’s the spirit. Anyway, father, is your work station still stocked downstairs?”

“Aye, help yourself lad.”

“Excellent. Mum I’ll probably be running to Lansing for the rest of the ingredients I need here in a minute. Is there anything you’ll be needing?”

“I’ll come up with you a list.”

A few minutes later, as Glen made his way toward the door, Logan hopped off the couch and moved after him. “Are you going to Lansing? I’ll come with you.”

“Oh no I’m just headed down to the workshop to figure out what all I need, then I’ll be headed that way.”

Logan shrugged and motioned for the door. Glen shrugged as well and made his way outside. The two of them circled around to the back of the house and down into another doorway that led into a close little space which must have been the cellar. It appeared slightly closer to the actual physical dimensions of the building than the upper floors, but it was still larger on the inside.

“So you’re just wanting to see the workshop?”

Logan grinned and rubbed his neck. “Actually I wanted to ask you a favor.”

Glen smiled knowingly and began sifting through a set of cupboards on the near wall. “I suspected as much. What can I do for you?”

“I’d like to get your sister an MP3 player for Christmas, but I don’t really know where I could get one around here.”

“And by 'around here' you mean Scotland?”

Logan shrugged. “Basically.”

“Well,” Glen began, picking out a couple of ingredients, “as it just so happens, I don’t either. I know a little more about the muggle world than most of my family, but I don’t spend much time in it. However, I have a counteroffer you might find agreeable.”

Logan leaned on a nearby counter, trying to catch a glimpse of the ingredients in the cupboards. “What’s that?”

“I don’t know where to find anything like that around here, but I’m betting if you were back in the jolly old US of A you’d be able to find such a place pretty easily, am I right?”

“Yes…?” Logan replied uncertainly.

“Well then when we get to Lansing why don’t we just use the floo station there to get you home, and then we can find our way to some place where these MP3 players or whatever are sold. Sound like a fair deal?”

“It does.” Logan grinned, trying to imagine his family’s faces when he stepped out of their fire place.

“Excellent! In that case, run up stairs and see if mother has her list ready yet, and then we’ll get over to Lansing and points beyond.” As he spoke, Glen took a small black can and began scooping powder into it from a larger one. Logan had never seen it before, but he knew what it was. Winry had told him about how long distance floo powder was distinguishable from the regular stuff by the slight reddish hue.

When Logan reached the main floor, Winry glanced up at him. “Where have you been?”

“Out in the shop with Glen. We’re going to Lansing?”

“What? Why?”

“I just wanna see it. Maybe grab a thing or two. Wanna come get your small town fix with me?”

Winry scoffed. “I get all I need of that in Hogsmeade, thanks.”

Logan shrugged “Suit yourself. Shall I pick you up anything?”

“Ehh, I’m good.”

“Mrs. McCloud?” Logan called. “Anything you need from Lansing?”

Elaina marched around the corner and handed him a list on a scrap of parchment. “Here you go, tell Glen I don’t want any of it from Denny’s store either. I saw him putting his thumb on the scale last time I was there.”

“Oops, can’t have that.” Logan tucked the list in his pocket and waved goodbye. Outside he clasped Glen’s outstretched hand and the two of them snapped out of existence beside the Stackhouse. They snapped back into existence on the edge of Lansing. Glen watched him for a moment as if waiting for something, and then turned to head into town.

“Alright,” said Glen, rubbing his hands together enthusiastically, “let’s have that list shall we?”

Logan produced the scrap from his pocket and handed it to Glen, who pinched it with another scrap in his hand. He produced a pale wand from within his coat and tapped it on the side of a building. A moment later, an elf in a little ruddy coat appeared, munching on a half-eaten sandwich.
“Mr. McCloud! Ludo hasn’t see Mr. McCloud in some time!”

“How are ya Ludo? Listen, I have some errands I’d appreciate if you’d handle for me, discretely. I have some clandestine Christmas errands to run a little further away, but I can’t be gone too long, if you catch my drift?”

The elf smiled and tapped the side of his nose “Ludo is your elf, Mr. McCloud. What’s needed today?”

Glen handed him the two pieces of parchment, and a small bag of coins. “Everything on these lists. I’ll be back for them hopefully within the hour, just keep them somewhere warm until I get back alright?”

“Ludo will take excellent care of Mr. McCloud’s Christmas goods.” Promised the elf, putting a hand over his heart.

“And don’t buy any of it from Denny’s store either,” added Logan. “Mrs. McCloud saw him putting his thumb on the scale the other day.”

Ludo shook his head vehemently. “Oh no, Ludo never does business there. He doesn’t trust that Denny fellow. Denny isn’t good to elves.”

The little house elf disappeared, leaving the two of them on their own to march into town. Near the town square, there was a floo built pretty obviously into the side of a building. Little bits of soot marked the pavers where the last person had used it.

“Alright,” said Glen, producing the small black can again. “Do you know the exact address of your parents’ floo?”

“I do.”

“And do you know how to state it properly when in use?”

“Oh yes, they made me memorize it before they’d let me start using the floo unattended.”

“How old were you?”

“Eight, I think?”

“Blimey, they sure trusted you didn’t they?”

Logan chuckled. “I wasn’t the problem child.”

“Alright, well here’s how this works. With long distance floo powder you have to state the entire address before you throw your charge down, got it? You can’t say “Diagon Alley” and toss it down or it won’t activate, and you’ll have done nothing but waste a handful of very expensive propellant.”
Logan paused for a second to make sure he had the whole address in mind, and then nodded. “Alright, I’m ready.” He reached for the can, but Glen drew it back.

“Hey now, I’m not ready just because you are! I need the address too.”

“Oh!” Logan laughed and rubbed his hands together. “Sorry. It’s Worcester County Massachusetts, 545 Warsliks Way, Gardner.”

Glen repeated the address a couple of times to himself, then held out the can to Logan while he continued to do so, nodding thoughtfully. Logan scooped out a handful and stepped into the floo where he proclaimed the address loud and clear, then threw the powder down. He was momentarily aware that the flame engulfing him was maroon rather than red before he disappeared into the floo network.

Papers flew in all directions as he stepped out of the floo in his Massachusetts home in America about five minutes later. “Ho-ho-ho, Merry Christmas!” he shouted to the assemblage of pajama-clad staring faces.

“Logan!” cried several voices at once. He took a step forward and caught his younger brother as he sailed through the air. “Hello there Mike, how’s stuff?”

“Better now! Are you staying?”

“Afraid not, but it’s impossible to go shopping for good no-maj gifts in Scotland. Hey Leah!” Logan stepped forward, keenly aware that Glen would be behind him any moment, and wrapped his free arm around his younger sister. “How’s classes?”

“Good. Are you really only here to get a gift?”

“It’s okay honey,” cut in their mother. “Let’s just be glad he came at all! How’s Scotland?”

Logan put Michael down and smiled. “It’s lovely. Ever been to Lansing?”

“Oh no, but I know where it is. Richard, are you done in there yet?”

Her voice calling further into the house prompted a response. “Calm down woman! He can stand there another second can’t he?” There followed a series of sounds in the bathroom, and then Logan’s father stepped around the corner just as the floo burst to life in maroon flame again.

“Wow, did you come here through the – Hey there, Richard Delius – did you two come here straight from England?”

“Scotland, actually. I’m Glen McCloud, sorry. Winry’s older brother.”

“Oh well it’s nice to meet you!” Said Logan’s mother. “I’m Logan’s mother, you can call me Vic.”

“And you guys just… got your hands on some red floo powder?” Richard was still eyeing the floo. “I keep up on things, that stuff’s not cheap.”

Glen smiled. “Aye that’s true. My mates and I are trying to change that, though.” Producing a card from inside his jacket, Glen handed it to Richard. “If you get tired of traveling by plane or portkey any time you want to come see Logan, give me a holler.”

Richard inspected the card, watching as the red and green flames danced around the edges in flickering trails, occasionally snuffing out and reappearing. “Fair Cloud Powder Solutions. That’s the name I read… I’ll keep it in mind.”

“Anyway, not to be a downer but my family doesn’t know we’ve snuck over to the great US of A. We’re after a particular item I believe, then we need to get back.”

“What’re you here for anyway?” asked Leah.

“I’m getting an MP3 player for Winry. I was gonna drop my music collection on it too before we go.”

“You came all the way from Hogwarts to go to Best Buy?” she said, unbelievingly.

Vic laughed. “It’s got better prices than Fnack, if memory serves. Richard I’ll take them to town if you want to get the computer pulled up.”

“Sure thing.” Richard pulled Logan into his huge arms and squeezed him. “Glad you stopped in kiddo!”

Logan huffed, trying to keep at least half a breath in his lungs. “I’m not gone just yet.”

“Alright, be gone then. I’ll have your laptop ready when you get back.”

Logan’s mother returned to the room with her coat and purse a moment later, took each traveler by the arm, and the three of them snapped out of the house.

When they reappeared, Glen gaped at the parking lot before them. “Blimey, I’ve never seen so many automobiles.”

“Oh they’re everywhere.” Vic assured him. “Pretty much every muggle family has at least one.”

Logan chuckled. “You know mom, I don’t think I’ve ever heard you call them muggles before.”

Vic glanced at him and smiled. “Just like riding a bike sweety.”

They made their way through the store to the counter, and Logan was about to pick up a small player when his mother tapped him on the shoulder. “Grab her a nano. You wanna make an impression right?”

Logan shrugged. “I mean, if you’re gonna help out?”

Vic clucked her tongue. “I gotcha kiddo, save your money.”

Glen stood looking ponderous for a moment while they went to find an attendant, and when they returned, he tapped Logan on the shoulder.
“I don’t suppose I could convince you to purchase one of the cheaper ones for me, could I? I’d only be able to pay you back in galleons of course, but I think mother would enjoy having one as well.”

Logan held a thumb up. “Sure thing man…” he glanced around at the available offerings for a moment, realizing Glen probably didn’t know the first thing about any of it. “Here, this one’s pretty easy to operate. Holds about 400 songs. I’ll teach you a little spell to keep it charged.”

Glen glanced at him curiously, then understanding covered his face. “Right, the electricity bit. Did you come up with the spell yourself?”
“Oh no, I learned it from a muggleborn student in my charms club at school.”

“Charms club… I don’t remember there being a charms club.”

“That’s because it was just a little gathering in the Ravenclaw common room for a lot of years.”

Glen hmphed and accepted the box Logan handed him. On the way out, Glen watched with interest as they paid for the two devices with little plastic cards.

“You know. I think it would behoove the wizarding world to incorporate a few of these things into daily life. Don’t you think?” Glen mused outside as they walked to their secluded corner of the parking lot. “I mean, I’m sure the blokes at Gringotts could come up with some sort of magical relay system that would tell them if someone used a galleon card or something. They could have a little group of runner goblins moving money between accounts, or they could hire some elves or something. It could be brilliant.”

Vic laughed, reaching out a hand for both of them. “This is why wizarding schools need to make muggle studies a requirement.” The three of them snapped out of the parking lot before Glen could make any further comment.

Logan’s laptop was sitting on the living room table waiting when they got home, and he quickly dumped his entire music library into the nano. He then picked Glen’s brain a little about some of the types of music his mother liked, and eventually decided it would be best just to drop his Christmas music albums into her player for the moment. “She can always invest in some muggle hardware to buy more for herself if she wants, right?”

After the players had both been loaded, everyone gathered around and smothered Logan in a gravitationally significant group hug, then they all shook hands with Glen and told him to come again sometime. The two young wizards disappeared one after the other in plumes of maroon flame, and then they were back in Lansing, Scotland.

“Well, that went about as well as could be expected.” Glen said, dusting red ash off his shoulders out of habit as he stepped from the floo behind Logan. “Now, let’s see how our old friend Ludo has fared.” Marching across town, Glen and Logan returned to the same spot on the same building, and tapped on the same brick as they had before. Ludo appeared a moment later with bags in hand and a pleased smile on his face.

“You’re a champ, Ludo. Couldn’t have done it without you.” Glen tossed the elf a galleon and began scooping up bags.

“Mr. McCloud is too kind to Ludo. Do wish the rest of the McClouds a happy Christmas as well.”

As the elf pocketed his coin and disappeared, Logan scooped up the rest of the paper sacks and glanced back at Glen. “Is he a family friend or is that his occupation?”

“Uh, little of both. He’s a free elf, but you know how elves are. His master used to own one of the biggest houses in Lansing but he died with no heir, so he freed Ludo on his deathbed, and the little guy’s just been hanging around Lansing doing good for the locals ever since. He’s friend to many a child, I can tell you that much. He’s probably gonna go buy sweeties with that galleon and hand them out to passing strangers.”

“What a guy.”

One apparition more and they were back at the Stackhouse, laden with groceries and waddling up the stairs into the main house. Winry opened the door for them and took one of the bags from Logan. “So how did you like little Lansing?”

“Charming place. Met this elf named Ludo, I think he would’ve given me the coat off his back if I’d asked.”

“Aww, you met Ludo! He’s probably the one good thing about that town.”

“Oh come now,” Elaina berated, coming around the corner to take her share of the goods. “Lansing is a perfectly nice little place. You’re back pretty quick though.”

Glen and Logan glanced at each other, then smiled guiltily.

“I got Ludo to do some of the shopping, actually. Gave me time to show Logan around a bit.”

“Oh very good, he probably got better deals than you would have.”

Glen scoffed. “Thanks mother! I’ll just be downstairs concocting a complex solvent that’ll allow you to resume visiting your favorite child on a regular basis if you need me.”

Elaina sidled forward and kissed her only son on the cheek. “Thank you, sweetheart.”

As Glen turned to go, he brushed past Logan and stuck the smaller MP3 player in his hand. “If you want to see how floo powder is made some time you’re more than welcome. My father keeps a large enough stock of supplies that I can hide the ingredients of the secret formula among them, I usually fix up a batch while I’m here.”

Logan pocketed the player in his coat and grinned. “Just lemme know man. It’s a whole new world of fascination to me.”

“You know,” said Elaina after Glen was gone. “You really should see about working with him after you’re finished at Hogwarts, at least for a little while. There’s only three of them making powder for their entire client base right now. They’re up to their ears in profit. Even if that’s not what you wanted to do for the rest of your life, it’d be a good place to start.” With a thoughtful little shrug, she collected the other sack of groceries and carried them off to the kitchen.

Logan watched her go, then suddenly grabbed Winry and squeezed her tight in a hug while she squealed. “Missed you.”

Winry gazed up at him with sullen wide eyes. “Don’t leave me here alone again. Dad’s at work. It was nothing but girl talk, the entire. Time. You were gone. They asked me if you were a good kisser, Logan!” her voice was little more than a sharp whisper by the end, and her eyes edged dangerously close to insanity.

Logan laughed and took her by the hand, heading toward the stairs. “And what did you tell them?”

Winry scoffed. “As if I’d share those kinds of details. I’d hate to make them look at their own relationships and feel all self-conscious.”

“Oh, that good huh?”

“Mhm!”

Logan snickered and stepped out onto the second floor living area. There was no one there, but he had seen some sort of table there earlier. Sure enough, it was a billiard table, and he began pulling balls out of the pockets. “You any good?” he asked, glancing back.

“Good enough to beat you.” Winry declared, running over to collect a stick that she apparently favored.

“Just remember, it’s hard to beat a beater.” Logan said, shuffling the balls around in the triangle. He collected a pole while Winry rolled her eyes, and then flicked his wand and the triangle swooped off to hang on the wall peg again. “Home advantage,” he said, gesturing to the table. Winry smiled and settled in for a shot that broke the game up nicely.

By the end of the game, of course, they had really lost their way as far as the rules were concerned. When it became clear that Logan’s talents as a beater actually did translate nicely into billiard, Winry began making her turns more about sabotaging his potential shots than gaining any ground on her own. Logan, in turn, began rising to the presented challenge and trying the most wildly improbable shots possible to circumvent her ploys. By the time they finally had whittled their respective sides down to a ball a piece, they were still busy chasing away any opportunity the other might have for a good shot when Saoirse walked into the room growling loudly and shoved all of the remaining balls into pockets.

“You two have been hogging the table for over an hour! Stop flirting and snog each other or get some lunch or something. It’s our turn!”

Logan laughed aloud and laid his stick on the table, but Winry glowered at her older sister and followed Logan out of the room still cradling her favorite stick in her arms.

There was food laid out in the dining room, and they helped themselves to it, but after fixing themselves plates, they wandered up to the tent where they took Saoirse’s other suggestion as well, forgetting about their food stuffs for awhile.

“Mm! lemme go get my headphones real quick,” Logan said suddenly after they’d finally settled side by side with their plates. “There’s another album I wanna let you listen to. It’s actually a British band.”

“You don’t think I’m gonna like it more just because my neighbors made it, do you?”

“Of course not, I’m just telling you so you can be proud to call them your neighbors when you hear how good they are. I’m telling you, this band’s gonna go far.”

Logan stepped out of the tent, still nibbling on a piece of brittle, and stepped over to his trunk. The first thing he did was pull the two players out of his coat pockets and whip up a spell that gift wrapped them. He then tucked the packages into the trunk and produced his own headphones before slipping back into the tent.

Settling back onto the couch, Logan handed Winry his left earbud and pulled up an album he’d just recently purchased using an internet connection a friend in Ravenclaw had concocted at Hogwarts in one of the many little tucked-away lounges.

“Mumford & Sons…” Winry grinned, looking at the cover. “That sounds like an old store or something. My grandfather had a store for potions and things called McCloud & Brothers.”

“See, entirely British.”

“Aye but we’re Scottish around here, lad.”

Logan chuckled. “I can’t imagine Scotland was a fun place to be during the Scottish uprisings of centuries past.”

Winry handed the phone back to Logan. “I’d imagine the Scottish wizards fought just as hard as any other highlander.”

The two of them settled into the cushions and let the music carry them away. Logan spotted Winry’s toe starting to tap somewhere along the way and smiled quietly. She liked it.

Christmas break rolled along lazily after the brief excitement of rushing to America for gifts. Logan and Winry talked more of their plotting and planning for the tri-wizard tournament, even taking in some of the others in their plotting. Alora offered them a potion recipe she’d come by that increased the potency of gillyweed’s natural effects. Glen had done a little bit of research on his own while preparing for his attempt at the cup. He hadn’t been chosen, but he had learned a motion-freezing spell that two past winning champions had found useful. They practiced in the tent on their own time, throwing billiard balls at each other and freezing them in the air.

Saoirse wanted no part of their “hare-brained schemes” when he initially asked her for suggestions, but one morning he snuck down before anyone else had stirred, planning to make tea and slip his gifts under the tree. He found Saoirse already sitting at the table with her own cuppa, thumbing through a small booklet.

“This is a primer for duelists,” Logan observer, inspecting the diagrams on the pages after she’d placed it in his hands and gone back to her tea.

“It is. A memento from my school days.”

“This is… some pretty serious stuff. Why did you have this in school?”

Saoirse glanced back at him skeptically. “Surely everyone still talks about Harry Potter and all the waves he made just by going to school there?”

“Well, yeah.”

“The dueling club that I have no doubt you two dunderheads are planning to join next year was formed in response to the whole fiasco that occurred when that little redheaded girl and the bewitched diary opened up the Chamber of Secrets. I was a third-year student at the time. Just a year ahead of Potter and all that lot. It’s just a big spell-slinging game for the oldest students now but when I first started, it was open to all students 2nd year and up, and it was a very serious matter. Professor Snape gave me that primer my fourth year and asked me to teach all of it to anyone else in Slytherin who joined up as well. That moment changed my life.”

Logan thumbed through the latter pages of the primer and found it full of scribbled notes, pointers, and modifications. He glanced back up at Saoirse who was still watching him. “What do you do for a living, Saoirse?”

She smiled wryly. “I’m a self-defense instructor. Most of my students could teach your Defense Against the Dark Arts class in their sleep.”

Logan regarded her curiously. “And what about you?”

The smile on her face diminished. “I’ve been invited back to instruct twice. They even offered the Magical Beasts instructor position to Anders, trying to entice us both back.”

“But you’re not going to.”

Saoirse sighed. “Not right now, no. I’m just not ready to go back there. Too many people I respected died in those halls, Logan. You know, I thought the world of Professor Snape, and as a Slytherin Prefect I got to spend enough time with him to know well that he had a close friendship with Dumbledore. Then he went off and killed him my last year there, and my heart was so broken I just sat on that couch for a month staring at my toes” – she gestured over his shoulder into the living room – “And then of course the very next year he himself got killed and I spent another month staring at my toes trying to sort out why I was so mad. Then in fall of ‘99, Good Mr. Potter couldn’t hold his peace anymore and wrote a little article telling the whole world exactly what happened. That just broke my heart again, but at least I had a little closure. I found that primer while I was packing up a few things and started reading through it again. Decided to teach it to a few other people, and then a few more, and then I decided to make it official and got my certificate from the ministry. I got offered a job in Hamburg teaching defense spells to their ministry employees, and I’ve lived in Germany ever since. Now if you’re going to go off and do something foolish then you’d better take that with you.”

Logan was quiet for a moment, feeling a need to be respectful of the sharing Saoirse had just done. He glanced at the primer in his hand and held it up. “I’ll take good care of this.”

“Don’t take care of it, Mr. Delius; take advantage of it. Make sure my sister knows it from cover to cover before that bloody tournament rolls around again.”

After that day, Logan began digging into the wards in the primer, making sure Winry knew them as well. He even went as far as to send off an owl with a message to the rest of their little specialized study group, letting them know he had acquired useful new materials over break that he wanted to share. Once Glen got wind that they were practicing spells daily, he insisted on joining them, as did Alora after awhile, and the four of them took to slugging it out in the snow in front of the house. It usually devolved into a snowball fight after awhile, but Logan felt certain he was beginning to grasp quite a few of the spells in Saoirse’s primer. By the time Christmas eve rolled around, he could fend off just about any spell Alora tossed at him, though Glen and Winry still kept him on his toes. He wondered if Saoirse was any better.

At last, Angus returned home after the day’s work on Christmas eve to find one of his children's snowy skirmishes still in progress, and waved his wand back and forth enthusiastically, covering them all in deep blankets of snow. He got one himself for his troubles, but he simply laughed and stomped all the more fervently at the base of the steps. Logan ran between the snow-battered McClouds with his fire brush, sweeping the cold off of each of them as they came through the door. Finally, Winry took his wand with the spell still intact and dusted him down as well.

“Here you go mum,” she said, handing the wand back to him as the spell fizzled out.

“Call me mum all you want, I don’t hear anyone shivering.”

The family’s Christmas eve tradition turned out to be copious amounts of hot chocolate and warm butterbeer, along with numerous varieties of biscuits, and all the Christmas stories Logan had never heard before. The floo was closed off and turned into an actual fireplace, and Alora conjured little characters out of the fire that danced around the air of the living room and celebrated Christmas with all their might. Finally, everyone gathered up hot beverages and their favorite assortments of biscuits, wrapped into tight bundles of coats and blankets, and made their way out to the carriage. It seemed a little bigger tonight than Logan had remembered before. Everyone piled in and they all rode off to the edge of Lansing where they listened to carolers and watched some gathering of lunatics launch off a dazzling display of fireworks that filled the night sky and set the inside of the city’s concealment wards aglow. It was one of the most fantastic Christmas displays Logan thought he had ever seen.

Late that night, sitting on the couch in the first floor living room, Logan and Winry snuggled under a blanket and watched Alora’s enchanted flames continue to dance and celebrate.

“What’s Christmas like in your home?” Winry asked, swishing butterbeer around in her mug.

“Well we don’t have butterbeer for one thing.”

“Ugh, how atrocious!”

“Yeah it is, but we have better hot cocoa and better cookies, so it all evens out.”

Winry gasped. “Keep your voice down! Mom makes all that herself.”

Logan held up a hand in oath. “You’ll never hear a word of it from me in her presence.”

Winry smirked and jabbed him in the ribs. “For your sake… Anyway, what else?”

“Hmm, we go and do the caroling ourselves in my family. There’s a little daytime Christmas village that we go and hang out at all day. We get to do hayrides, all kinds of fun little competitions, and everyone rides brooms everywhere until the new year.”

“What about new year?”

“You can’t really tell American wizards apart from muggles on New Year to be honest. We go to all the same firework shows, our parents all drink too much of the same spiked punch, and we all go out on our porches and count down the new year at the top of our lungs together.”

Winry giggled. “Sounds pretty great. We go over to Orkney and watch them burn down the Viking ship for Hogmanay. It’s pretty fun, cuz all the muggles get dressed up like actual Viking raiders and roar down the streets.”

“Very nice.”

“Oh, we do one more thing different in my family, too.”

“What’s that?”

Logan produced a small gift-wrapped box from under the blanket and handed it to her. “We usually open a gift or two on Christmas eve.”

Winry smiled and took the box, tapping it gently with her wand so it came unwrapped without tearing anything. The white box beneath came open and revealed a little green iPod nano. She gasped and kissed his again. “Did you put some music in it?”

“I put all my music in it actually. You’ve got the same collection as me. That one will hold a thousand songs though, so you’ll have to keep looking for muggle music to put on it yourself.”

“Hmph, I don’t know how.”

Logan poked her. “Don’t worry, I’ll show you.”

He pulled another item out of his pocket and plugged it into the nano after she’d turned it on. It allowed two sets of headphones to plug in, which they both did. Winry set it to shuffle once she discovered the setting and let it play away. They continued to watch the fire figures dance on the ceiling as the music played, and finally fell asleep nestled under the blanket together on the couch, music still playing in their ears.

In the morning, Logan woke up to something brushing his nose. He rubbed it and opened his eyes to find Alora standing over him with a gleeful grin smeared across her face.

“You’re gonna get teased all day if anyone else comes down and finds you two snuggled up on the sofa, lover boy.”

Logan glanced around, remembered where he was, and slowly stretched his way out of the blanket. “Fine.”

He carefully picked Winry up and carried her up the stairs, tiptoeing as best he could with the extra weight. Winry was a skinny girl, but she was nearly his height, which made her pretty tall for a 15-year old girl. He managed to get her up two flights of stairs without smashing her head on anything, and dropped her on her own bed before going to change his cloths.

Downstairs, he and Alora ambled around the kitchen fixing a light breakfast for themselves while Saoirse ignored them and sipped hot tea. Then Elaina arrived and shooed them out so she could make a proper breakfast for the whole house, the rest of whom seemed to arise instinctively as soon as Elaina began cooking. Winry moseyed sleepily past Logan in the living room and favored him with a rare, delicate smile before slipping into the dining room to sit and wait for food.

Christmas morning unrolled easily, and turned out to be something of a lowkey highlight for Logan. Everyone’s guard was down just a little in ways that he wouldn’t have even perceived otherwise. Angus was a little more laid back, while Elaina was a little more excitable and emotional, especially when Glen revealed his special gift for her. Saoirse rolled with the teasing that came her way and didn’t feel compelled to dish it back out, while Alora’s wit seemed to sharpen a little bit. Glen was pretty much unchanged, but it seemed to Logan as if that was simply because he was a fully authentic individual at all times. Winry followed suit with her sister, seeming just a little more carefree and laughing along with the rest of her family.

The tone set that morning was slow to break the following week. Music from the MP3 player rolled out of the kitchen on a seemingly endless loop, and the whole household seemed to have found a balancing point. Logan enjoyed the ease of it all, but he also missed the fantastic polarities they’d exhibited up to that point as well. Winry’s family was a beautiful cacophony. The day that the atmosphere seemed to resume a little of its typical self was New Year’s Eve, when Anders arrived. Saoirse appeared to settle back into the tone that defined her side of their relationship, which was to say her routine self, and the rest of the family slowly followed suit. And perhaps it was just as well, because they all turned into a well-oiled machine when it was time to journey across Scotland for the Hogmanay celebration on Orkney Island. Elaina kept everyone on task getting ready to go while Angus kept them all from getting too frustrated at her. Logan mainly stayed with Saoirse and Anders, keeping out of the path of trouble and enjoying his diplomatic immunity as a guest – a fact he was certain Winry resented him for.

At last, a haul of duffle bags floated out the door and down the stairs to the waiting carriage, and Elaina loaded them all up with snacks and beverages. Apparently her idea of Hogmanay was a winter’s day picnic. Once everyone was loaded up into the carriage, four separate witches and wizards clasped the rails and apparated at once on Angus’ count. It was a rough transition, but they arrived on the northern island unscathed. Angus flicked the reins which were now attached to horses rather than the thestral, and the carriage rolled on down the road.

“Remember everyone,” he called back, “We’re in muggle towns now, so keep your wands tucked and behave a little.”

He was mainly preaching to himself, according to the opinions of others.

The carriage, Logan noticed, had grown again since their trip to Lansing, and now had room for four siblings and two guests to ride in back while Angus and Elaina sat in front together. All their little quirks synergized into an atmosphere that made Logan both admire them quite a lot, and thankful that he belonged to his own family.

The Vikings that ran around town were a marvelous thing to behold, of course. The McClouds spent the day rolling around town and unloading at different points to enjoy different bits of tradition that seemed quite rehearsed to Logan, but he enjoyed it all, and even experienced a small degree of notoriety at a few of their stops with his obviously American mannerisms. By the time the Vikings came rushing down main street with their torches, however, he had forgotten where he was from. He cheered and roared along with the rest of the crowd, outdoing the McClouds in volume by a fair margin. The torches flew, the boat burned, and the crowd roared. The McClouds stayed the night at an establishment across the island that turned out to be a wizarding hostel of sorts. Nobody went to sleep before midnight, naturally, and the magical impulses that had been stored up by any of them celebrating Hogmanay among the muggles found its way out in the common room. Logan eventually found himself settling into a corner along with Saoirse and Winry, as well as Anders. They couldn’t talk any more quietly, but they could at least focus on their conversation a little more.
Around 2am, the party began to slowly die down, and the celebrating wizards began to wander off to bed with their many spells, leaving the common room a little quieter. Glen and the parents had already gone off to bed, but Alora came and joined the group of them for a bit before they, too, finally moseyed off to bed.

“Oh to be young and vital again,” Logan teased the next day, looking around the common room. Winry laughed and pushed him across the open floor toward the far tables. He and Winry were the only ones in the common room apart from the quiet young witch who greeted them and directed them to food. They helped themselves to some of the food there, and some of the food Elaina had packed. They enjoyed a rare moment of advantage an hour later when the first of the others began to slump into the room and seek caffeine and food. The “aging” jokes flew until Elaina arrived, and then they were no longer acceptable, but Logan and Winry sat cheerfully together and continued to snicker. They’d already had their fun.

The trip home was quieter than the trip there had been. Everyone seemed to be pretty well funned out.

“Goodness,” Winry said one evening, “we’re going back to Hogwarts in four days.”

“Feels like we’ve been here longer than a week and a half though,” Logan observed.

Winry tucked her knees up a little closer on the couch and laid her head on Logan’s chest. “I suppose so. It’s more fun with you here.”

Logan smiled and wrapped his arms around her. “You’ll have to come to my place next year.”

Winry sniggered. “I dunno, your parents didn’t seem to like me.”

“My mother loved you, actually.”

“But not your dad?”

Logan laughed. “Honestly I think he was just too busy taking in the differentiated wizarding world to focus on you too carefully.”

“Oh yeah, he kinda does the muggle thing most days doesn’t he.”

“He kinda does the Richard thing most days.”

Winry laughed and reached for a box of biscuits on the coffee table. When she couldn’t reach, Logan picked it up with his feet and handed it to her.

“See, this is when you need a TV, so you can watch a Christmas movie or something.” Logan commented.

Winry crunched away at her biscuits and shrugged. “Fine, we’ll watch ‘movies’ at your house next year.”

By the time they’d turned around twice, it was time to return to Hogwarts again. The whole family came out to farewell them at the train station, and ended up mixing company with the little family of the other Hogwarts student who’d dropped off there the same day as them two weeks ago. Winry and Logan spent the ride home in a little booth reading through the dueling primer again, making sure they both had a good grasp of it.
“I really can’t believe she gave this to us.” Winry said as they got up to vacate the train at Hogwarts station.

“You knew about it before?”

“I knew she had something from Professor Snape that she really treasured. But I didn’t know what it was until now.”

“Well, we’ll have to make sure we put it to good use and then get it back to her.”

Winry smiled and tucked the primer into Logan’s coat pocket.

The rest of the year was spent by the little inter-house group of friends refining their list of resources. Henry was the self-appointed librarian and spent a lot of time tracking down literature for all their projects just because it interested him, as well as pouring through the books on animal-handling that Anders had lent them. Nicole was of course thrilled by the gillyweed potion, and brewed up a batch of it to test one Saturday – she spent most of the day in the water on half a vial. They all spent some time on the weekends working through the primer as well, and Logan felt they’d gotten to a pretty good place of competence before long.

Of course there were other things to worry about as well. Quidditch still waited for no one, and Logan and Winry both gave it their all, but were both ultimately beaten out by Ravenclaw by a narrow margin. It still felt good to leave Gryffindor behind after having been their doormat the last year. The O.W.L.s were that year as well, and thanks in no small part to extra-curricular activities, Logan and Winry both did quite well in most of their core subjects. Winry even went as far as to say that the Defense Against the Dark Arts test was a little lack-luster. Thanks to the constant encouragement and challenging that many years in the Charming Transitions club had given them, both of them passed their charms and transfiguration classes with flying colors – Logan learned later on that he had received the highest score on the transfiguration class that Hogwarts had seen in five years. He felt this was a good sign that he was on the right path. At the end of the testing weeks – along with sharing the tidbit about the 5-year high score – Logan’s transfiguration teacher leaned across his desk and eyed the student thoughtfully.

“Now in light of that, you seem to be on track to complete the little task you were concerned about early this year. Are you still interested?”
Logan nodded resolutely. The teacher smiled and slid him a folded piece of parchment. “Very good. I think you’ll do quite well Mr. Delius.”

Out in the hall, Logan unfolded the scrap and read it, his eyebrows shot up in surprise. It was a date and time for a meeting. Pursuant to the instructions on the scrap of paper, Logan arrived at the doorway to the Headmaster’s office later that week. The stairway slid down, and he made his way up the stairs into the headmaster’s office for the first time in all his years at Hogwarts.

“Good afternoon Mr. Delius. Have a seat, please.”

Logan glanced up at the large desk in the middle of the room, but there was no one there. Glancing to the left, he found Headmistress McGonagall sitting at a smaller table off to one side with a pair of glasses halfway down her nose. She smiled expectantly and gestured to the other chair at the table.

“Sorry,” he said, grinning self-consciously as he made his way up the steps to the table.

“It’s quite alright. I vaguely remember being a little daunted the first time I stepped in here as well.”

When Logan sat, McGonagall watched his for a moment, then held up a letter. “It has come to my attention that you’re interested in pursuing a fairly complex bit of wizardry, Mr. Delius, and also that you’re interested in doing so very soon. Can you tell me why that is?”

Logan weighed his words for a moment, wondering which piece of the truth would make the most sense. “I’m very interested in the transfiguration process, ma’am. And if my understanding of the animagus complex is accurate, I have a feeling I could expect some fairly interesting results.”

“Indeed,” mused the headmistress. “That doesn’t explain why you want to take on the process in your sixth year as a wizarding student, however.”
Logan stifled a grin and glanced away. “I have a um… a bit of a circumstantially imposed deadline.”

“How so?” McGonagall’s eyes pierced through Logan with the sort of sagely quality that made him think she already knew the answer. He decided to toss caution to the wind.

“The tri-wizard tournament at Durmstrang is in my seventh year, and since I intend to compete, I want to be as well-prepared as possible.”
McGonagall chortled happily. “The truth at last! Well if that’s your motivation then I must remind you that applying an animagus complex to yourself is non-reversible. You can’t just switch it off after the tournament.”

Logan nodded. “I understand that. I don’t see why it would become less useful afterward, I just feel that it would be especially useful in the tournament, as a starting point.”

McGonagall picked up one more piece of paper from the huge pile on her side desk and opened it. It appeared to be Logan’s test results from the O.W.L.s. “Your test scores would seem to suggest that you have the wherewithal to accomplish what you want to, young man. And since I’m aware that you and your little group of friends are already diligently preparing for the tournament in a variety of other ways, I don’t see the wisdom in turning you down. Otherwise I suspect Hogwarts will have laid claim to yet another unregistered animagus before long. I will supervise your animagus complex composition myself, in order to avoid any mistakes. You understand what that means?”

Logan nodded. “It means you plan the process and the calendar, and I follow your plan as set forth, to the letter.”

“Excellent! In that case I’ll be looking for you here on the third day of classes at the start of the fall term. Run along now, and take this with you.”

Logan accepted a parchment from the headmistress and unfolded it in the stairwell. It was a list of ingredients he would need to collect during the summer; exactly the one his transfiguration teacher had handed him earlier that year. Logan smiled exultantly and stuffed the note in his pocket. This time it was really. It was actually going to happen!

6th year: 2008

Logan stepped in the door of the pub behind the McClouds as discretely as he could manage, and fell in line behind Winry, who was herself as at the rear of the little crowd. He wasn’t sure what Alora was doing there, but he could wait to find out. He stayed as close to them as he could while they stepped up to the counter, wearing a wry grin upon his face for the rest of the world to see. While the barman began taking down their orders, Logan eyed the menu. In five years of wizarding in the UK he could still count on his hands the number of dishes he could recognize by name on a non-muggle menu. British wizards were so differentiated from their muggle counterparts they had even managed to come up with their own names for ordinary dishes, which didn’t help. Even so, he spotted an item he’d eaten at this particular pub before that he knew was good. When the barman finally got to the back of the line, he glanced at Logan, making the logical assumption based on the young man’s proximity to the group, and asked what he would like.

“I’ll take the haggis with the dragon bile sauce, a side of chips, and a butterbeer please.”

The whole family turned in shock and shouted various exclamations as they rushed him. Logan gave the thoroughly amused barman a thumbs up before Winry crushed his ribs in her traditional after-the-summer hug.

“So, how was summer in America?” Angus asked, cutting into his lunch enthusiastically a little while later.

“Pretty good. I got to spend some more time with the dad and the wand-stave gatherers. Shot a deer with a muggle firearm – have you ever seen a gun?”

Angus puzzled his lip a moment. “Those are the explosive little sticks with triggers that they fire at each other in wartimes, aren’t they?”

Logan nodded. “Yes, but that’s just one use for them. In the wilds, they use guns to protect themselves from mundane predators, and also to hunt wild prey like deer and ducks and things.”

“Interesting, so they’ve found a more sporting way to use them. My father had an old-fashioned crossbow when I was a boy. Fascinating stuff.”
Winry tugged on the hem of his leather cloak. “Is this thing finished?”

“It is!” Logan lifted the bear-hide garment proudly. “I tested it last week to make sure the enchantment was holding. It’ll stand up to dragon fire, lightning strikes, and just about every hex and curse I know.”

Winry shook Logan excitedly and demanded that he teach her the spellwork once she found a suitable cloak, but when he glanced across the table her parents were nearly gaping at him.

“You made that cloak by yourself?” Elaina asked, poking uninterestedly at her food.

“Yes ma’am! Not overnight though, I’ve been researching it for a couple of years. Believe you me, most of the literature I needed from Hogwarts was in the restricted section too.”

Angus and Elaina glanced at each other for a moment, then went back to their food.

Since Logan had galleons that year which he’d been paid by Glen in exchange for American dollars, it was difficult for him to not buy things in Diagon Alley. The only reason he was there was for potion ingredients from the list professor McGonagall had given him, but the undeniable pull to spoil his girlfriend eventually won out, and he bought her some sweeties.

“This whole business with not knowing our classes really has me frustrated,” Winry said as they stood on Platform 9 ¾ later that day. “How are we supposed to know which books we need, much less buy them?”

“That’s why we get a Hogsmeade day so early in the year,” Logan explained. “There’s a bookstore there than stocks NEWT level textbooks.”
When he glanced at Winry, her lips were pursed into a hesitant smile. “Oh…”

“Why?” Logan eyed her curiously.

Winry shook her head. “Nothing… remind me to send Glen some hate mail this week.”

Logan pulled out his wand with a flourish and began scribbling in the air. “Send Glen Hate Mail” then he snatched the glowing letters with his wand and cast them onto Winry. “There you go, those should pop off again this… Thursday, around 9 in the morning.”

Winry glanced around at her body dramatically, and then her eyes shot up to Logan. “Where did you learn that?”

“Mom taught it to me this summer. Pretty handy huh?”

“Handy, hah! You underestimate it’s potential!” Winry rubbed her hands together excitedly and looked around the platform. “Teach me the spell, hurry.”

Logan laughed quietly and pulled his wand back out. “You know how to do letter casting of course, but the actual spell you’re using to attach it as a reminder is futuro memorandum, then you just provide the reactivation time with the motive.”

Winry pulled out her wand and scribbled “PLAYING WITH FIRE” into the air, then swiped her wand and attached the letters onto Logan. They popped off again about ten seconds later. “Excellent! Did you feel anything when the spell hit you?”
Logan shook his head.

Winry cackled and glanced around the platform again, twiddling her wand between her fingers. Suddenly she jerked around facing the other way and quickly scribbled a rather scathing insult into the air while she huddled over it. She turned and waited for a moment, and then bobbed her eyebrows at Logan. He then realized what she was up to.

Frederic Hornsbury was the seeker for the Ravenclaw team, and while it had never been substantiated by the judges due to the altitude at which the final snitch had been caught the year before, Winry had explained to Logan that he had outright punched her during the final moments of the deciding game as they pursued the snitch. When he passed them by, Winry flicked her wand, and the memo disappeared.

On the train, Winry insisted they settle into the car cabin right beside Hornsbury’s, and when they had all settled in, she hushed them. A few moments later, there was an exclamation from Hornsbury, and then a cry of laughter from a couple of boys, as well as a disappointed chastisement from a girl as well: “oh you do, do you?!”

“What just happened?” asked Hawley. Winry sniggered and scribbled the words “I LIKE HITTING GIRLS” into the air, then waved her wand and attached them to him. They popped off a few seconds later and glowed vibrantly for all the cabin to see. They burst into laughter and slammed their door shut.

“That ought to teach him to go playing dirty in the cloud cover,” Nicole suggested.

The rest of the trip to Hogwarts was spent casting scripts on each other, and modifying the spell for different uses. Henry had learned a scrambling jinx that would turn any written words into complete jibberish, and then a counter-jinx to correct them. He tested it out on Logan, writing a simple potion recipe in the air and then scrambling it before casting it onto him. When it popped back off, Logan used the counter-jinx and corrected the letters from the series of chicken scratch marks they had been back into a proper recipe. They all roared and shook Henry enthusiastically while he laughed. Nicole eventually topped the cake when she modified the charm and attached it to a piece of paper. She then opened the cabin door and waved the paper on in the form of a butterfly. It traced down the hall and disappeared, but a little while later, her little brother Nicolas showed up holding the scrap and wearing a smile. “You wanted me?”

Nicole grabbed him and smacked a wet kiss on his cheek amidst his loud protest, and then gave him the rest of her jelly beans and sent him scampering back to his car. She laughed until she was red in the face after he was gone. “I think I might have found a new hobby!”

On the first day of class, Logan discovered that for sixth year students, the first week was advising and book acquisitions only. It was essentially a free week. He met with his head of house on a Monday and went over his OWL grades with him.

“You did fairly well in all your test areas,” explained Ghastly, the enthusiastic little man who’d taken over as Head of House after Mrs. Sprout had retired in Logan’s third year. “At current standards, you could, if you wanted to, proceed to take all classes you tested in at the NEWT level if you wanted to. However, I expect you understand by now that the coursework will get much more difficult from here on out, so I’d encourage you to be very judicious in the classes that you proceed with.”

“What would you say is a good course load?”

“Well, that honestly depends on the student, doesn’t it?” Ghastly chuckled, scraping a handful of almonds from a bowl on the desk. “Obviously you’ve got two or three classes that you feel very passionate about, judging by your grades here, but three is not enough for the likes of you, I don’t think. I’d recommend the full five.”

Logan shook his head and sighed, glancing back and forth between the different sheets on the desk. “I feel really conflicted between… Dark Arts Defense, and Magical Creatures.”

Ghastly pursed his lips thoughtfully and nodded, leaning closer over the desk as well. “What’s the conflict center around?”

“I feel fairly competent in the Defensive Arts, and I’d love to keep studying magical creature care, but the defense class is a lot more mainstream and applicable I feel.”

Ghastly chuckled. “Not unless you’re planning to become an auror, or a defense teacher. You’ve learned the theory.” The professor leaned back and picked a small booklet out of a drawer and laid it before Logan. He instantly recognized it as another copy of the duelist’s primer Saoirse had lent him.

“Have you ever seen this before?”

Logan nodded. “Yes sir, I actually have a borrowed copy from a personal defense instructor in Germany.”

“Oh excellent! And uh, how competent are you in its contents?”

“Very, I practice the stuff in it with my mates – carefully, of course.”

“Good, good.” Ghastly slid the primer back to his own side of the desk. “Take magical creature care, Mr. Delius. If you intend to continue practicing the contents of that primer, and also intend to join the dueling club as you stated, I think you’ll have a perfectly well-rounded defense education.”

He motioned at a bookshelf on the far wall, and an old-looking tome came flying into his hand. “Take this book with you and read it in your own time. At the end of your 7th year I’ll give you an override to take the NEWT exam for Defense Against the Dark Arts if you like, and if you should pass you will earn proper credit for this year and next, as well as the corresponding transcript certification. Does that make things simpler?”

Logan nodded. “Yes sir, thank you.”

“Excellent! Is there anything else you wanted to know about or is that it?”

“Is there an Alchemy class available?”

“Ooh, interested in Alchemy, aye? Alchemy is a 7th year elective that’s taken in place of advanced potions, however it’s not offered unless at least six students wish to take it. If you’d like to do so, you have this whole year to raise interest.”

“Okay, I can do that.”

“Excellent!”

Logan departed Ghastly’s office with a list of books and materials. His classes were Advanced Charms, Astounding Herbology, Advanced Potions, Total Transfiguration, and Masterful Magical Creature Handling. When he finally met up with Winry again and they compared lists later that day, they found that they’d kept pretty much all the same classes, except for magical creatures, which Winry had not scored high enough to continue in. She hadn’t deigned to replace it with Defense either, having apparently reached the same conclusion with her head of house that Logan had.

“Well then, shall we go find some lunch?” Logan offered.

They met up with their mates in the great hall and piled into to the Hufflepuff bench in complete disregard of the house standing order, cheerfully shoving off some younger Hufflepuffs and telling them to go do the same. For the next half hour they proceeded with comparing class schedules and planning activities for the Hogsmeade day, and generally just not worrying about anything.

“Hey, did you guys all sign up for the Apparition course?” Nicole asked across the table. Everyone nodded and agreed except for Henry, who said nothing until called out.

“No, I didn’t.” he said briefly, stuffing a banger in his mouth and sipping his juice for good measure.

“Henry, don’t let money be an issue,” Nicole encouraged him. “I’m sure we can figure something out if you wanna take it. Hogwarts instructors are way better than what’s being offered after you graduate.”

Henry shook his head, beginning to turn a little red, and kept chewing. Winry eyed him closely for a moment, and then scoffed loudly. “You already know how, don’t you!”

Henry merely smiled and continued chewing. The table burst into an array of reactions from delight to envy – technically it was illegal to apparate before the age of 17. Afterward, however, Logan overheard Henry and Nicole talking in the hall and grinned, slipping around the corner and staying to listen for a moment.

“Well I didn’t want you to miss out, it’s a really important thing to learn.”

“Yeah but still, I could’ve sworn you were about to make everyone turn out their pockets for me, I really appreciate that.”

“Yeah… Well, it won’t be as much fun without you.”

Henry laughed. “Sorry to miss out then. Hey I mean if you want I can um… give you a little bit of early instruction at Hogsmeade tomorrow. Make sure you don’t splinch yourself or anything.”

Logan smiled to himself and rolled away from the wall, continuing on down the hall. The next day as they walked to Hogsmeade, he spied them holding hands.

“What do you think you’re going to do after Hogwarts?” Winry asked at the bookshop, looking through the used bin.

“I dunno,” Logan replied honestly. “I’m still kinda indecisive. Part of me wants to go into wand-making, but that’s such a monopolized field. Unless you’re one of like the top three wandmakers in the world you’re practically an obscurity.”

“That’s not as true as it used to be.” Winry countered.

“I know, thus the dilemma. I might like to go into some kind of outfitting business as well, design super-efficient pocket dimension tents, or maybe get into enchanting and make more aegis cloaks… Or maybe get do something with gryphons. Ugh! I dunno.”

“I saw that petition you put on the board for an Alchemy class next year.” Winry mentioned.

“Oh yeah, I thought about what your mom said too. Going into business with Glen for a few years could be a pretty good stepping stone to anything else I wanted to do.”

Winry laughed. “Yeah, and it would be easy apparating distance from Wales too.”

Logan paused and grinned. “So… we’re gonna live in Wales then, huh?”

Winry smiled and shrugged. “I mean, I suppose I could listen to an argument for some other place, but there are a lot of charming little cottages out in the forest there. We could gut one of them and turn it into a full-sized house on the inside pretty simply with your knack for pocket dimensions.”

Logan nodded thoughtfully, a small smile spreading over his face. Suddenly he turned and pulled her into a kiss. “Wales sounds perfect.”

Winry smiled and buried her face in his neck, squeezing his ribs till he was forced to exhale. On the walk home from Hogsmeade, the two of them were holding hands as well.

The next day he met with professor McGonagall and they planned out his Animagus tasks for the year.

“Now, we’re not going to start with the mandrake leaf this month, because I don’t want you to accidentally spit it out while you’re learning to apparate, but I think you should start with your dew collection as soon as possible.” She wrote out a note and handed it to him. “This will give you special permission to exit the castle during the night until the end of October – and not a day further! So don’t get any ideas, Mr. Delius. I expect two months will be more than enough time for you to collected 312 milliliters of dew, and I’d encourage you to be up early enough to get out of the castle and back in before the sun even starts to show. No sense taking any risks.”

Logan set up his dew-traps that very night and crept out the next morning to see what he’d caught. It didn’t appear that the process was going to take very long using the glass basins he’d designed over the summer, so he decided to double up. By the end of the month, he was fairly certain he’d have close to 800ml of untouched twilight dew.

On the second day of classes, the great hall had been cleared of tables and benches after lunch, and entirely reset for apparition training. After the instructors had gone through the basics of how to call up the magic, they demonstrated the technique, and the air in the great hall seemed to huff when it happened, as though a cannon had been fired without making a sound.

The students lined up on their spots, facing back, and then spun around forward at the instructor’s count. This was repeated a few times for practice, and then they all settled on their stools for a bit more theoretical instruction. This, apparently, was going to be their instructional format for awhile. On the way out, Winry sighed and dug through her pockets for a chocolate. “That was super boring.”

“Yeah, I thought we’d at least get a chance to try it or get to do a side-long apparition.”

“They probably don’t want anyone stinking up the floor on their first day.”

“Oh you mean the barfing thing?”

“Aye, I got sick the first time I did side-long apparition.” Winry admitted, popping a chocolate snail in her mouth.

“Oh yeah, me too. I was eight.”

“Ha!” Winry laughed. “Beat you by a year.”

Logan rolled his eyes and dug another snail out of her pocket. “Always a competition.”

Winry gave him a frank glance. “Everything’s a competition.”

The next week, tryouts for the quidditch team were held, and despite his optimistic bent, Logan found himself slightly disappointed by the selection of new blood that turned up. Everyone seemed fairly certain they’d make it onto the team, so none of them really seemed to try. In the end, there were no new players introduced, and the same team entered the roster that had been present last year. There was one player that Logan felt hope for, however. A young third year named Reginald – or Reggy, as he introduced himself – demonstrated the kind of drive that would have gotten him into the team if he hadn’t simply been outpaced by both Logan and Orren, who were well-seasoned beaters by this point.

“Hey man,” Logan said, catching up to the downhearted young man on the way back from the pitch. “Why don’t you come out for practice with us next week?”

Reggy cast a sidelong glance up at him and kept walking. “I failed tryouts though.”

“Yeah son but my old bones are getting tired here. I might drop out of the team next year, you know? Gotta have a solid beater like you ready to take my place.”

Reggy smiled a little. “Alright, what time?”

Logan chuckled and ruffled the young man’s hair, giving him the practice rundown as they walked back to the castle. By the end of the second day of practice, they’d labeled him “Roaring Reggy”. He was an enthusiastic quidditch fan.

After a long and painful stint of anticipation, the instructors of the apparition class decided to have a tryout near the end of September. They were lined up, and given instruction to do the spin a few times, just so they’d have the motion and the principle down.

“It takes a good deal of focus to make it happen,” the instructor said. “It’s not as easy as flipping a hotcake on the stove. You’ve really got to push yourself past the barrier holding you in place, or you’ll only stand there spinning in circles forever – or worse, only half of you will make it through to the other side.”

Logan spun on with everyone else, thinking about what he’d been told. The idea was to visualize the target landing space, imagine oneself being there, and then touch what the instructor called the magical ignition in order to– Logan felt a thump. Everything blurred for a moment, and then he was facing the other way, standing a scant inch from the student in front of him. Pain shot through his hand, and when he looked down, strands of flesh appeared to have simply vanished from his hand and forearm, leaving exposed muscle tissue. A moment of creature fear surged through his head, and his heart began to race as he backpedaled to his stool and sat down.

“Hey! Did I say to go-oh!” The instructor’s angry lines were replaced with concern and he rushed forward. “Easy there, easy, it’s just a little splinch.”
Logan tried to smile, but it turned into a grimace as he lifted up his arm. It felt like he’d dipped it in molten metal. Winry came and put her cool hands on either side of his neck. With his skin suddenly burning, it felt good. He winced as the instructor cast a spell to stop the bleeding, then he took a deep breath and stood as prompted.

In the hospital wing, he drank a potion that the nurse practically stuffed between his lips, and then he laid back and held up his arm while she wove a few more spells and then bandaged his arm.

“I’ll need to send an owl to your parents.” She said as she finished up.

“My parents live in America,” Logan explained. “you should probably send it to Winry’s parents.”

The instructor overheard what he said and suddenly scoffed, glancing at the other instructor. “Bloody Americans, they can never just be patient and do things the right way.”

“Listen man,” Logan barked across the room. “You said I was gonna have to f-“ he went to clinch his fist out of habit as he said the word “focus”, but the effort caused more pain to shoot up his arm, and he earned a scathing glare from the nurse.

“You said I was gonna have to focus singularly on the effort and force myself into the ignition like pushing through a wall. I got news for you buddy, you’re gonna need a new analogy cuz that was about like flipping hotcake on the stove.”

The instructor crossed his arms and glared back across the room at Logan. “You don’t say?”

“Yeah, if I’d known I could have tripped on a branch and disapparated by accident I would have focused on my destination a little more before I started pondering the nature of the ignition spell.”

Despite his obvious frustration, the instructor glanced at his counterpart and shook his head, a little smirk starting to cross his features. “Well young man, it sounds to me as though you’re something of a natural. If you’re in fighting form next week we’ll make sure you get it right. IF you can mind your manners as well”

Logan nodded and smiled a little guiltily. “Sorry for… yelling.”

The instructor chuckled and rose from the bed across the room. “Well you may be an American, but you’re definitely a Hufflepuff too.”

Winry watched the instructors turn to leave, and then hurriedly scribbled something in the air and swiped the spell after them. Logan couldn’t read all of it from his angle but it looked like it said something about daddy issues. She turned back to Logan’s disappointed stare and shrugged, unconcerned.

“What? He’s a big troll, sitting here gassing off at you for being American. He’s probably just jealous because you’re better at it than him.”

Logan held up his arm. “It would seem not.”

Winry snickered. “Yeah, you accidentally apparated, while he’s up there waxing poetic about how hard it is to transcend your physical limitations and cast yourself into the distant places of the world.”

“That was the other instructor.” Logan pointed out.

“Whatever!” Winry smacked him on the shoulder of his injured arm, and then immediately flinched in sympathy and apologized, laying her hands on his head and shoulder.

“You’re a terribly harsh girlfriend.” Logan observed, grinning at her.

“Well then maybe you should have just left me to fall off my merry broom third year. But you’re stuck with me now.”

She leaned down and kissed his cheek. “By the way,” she whispered, “I figured out how to apparate over the summer, on my own. Never even splinched a fingernail.”

“I’m gonna tell your dad.” Logan threatened.

“Oh you mean after he gets finished reading the letter about you splinching your hand halfway to hell during class? You’re welcome to earn me a few points if you like.”

“Ooh, you don’t think I’m gonna lose house points over this do you?” Logan felt suddenly concerned.

“Pshh, you’re a mess.” Winry settled beside him on the bed and pulled out her iPod. “I’d be less worried about house points and more worried about your quidditch practice tomorrow.”

Logan sighed and laid his head back on the pile of pillows, staring at the ceiling as Winry stuffed an earbud in his ear and turned her music on. She was right. He was just grateful to have something of a solution on hand.

Roaring Reggy’s enthusiasm was paid off the next day, and he took to the field while Logan sat in the bleachers and perused the assignment for his potions class. The assignment was a bit of a review this early in the semester, and he eventually found himself thumbing through the index of potions. The title of one caught his eye and he paused to read it.

“Thief’s Downfall,” he mumbled, scanning down the list of ingredients. It didn’t look like a terribly complicated spell, but the spellwork that was required in order to distill it into a potion was somewhat more advanced. It was stuff he had a grasp of, but he knew someone who would be able to make it much faster than him. He pulled a scrap of paper from his bag and letter-cast a message onto it, then flicked his wand at it. The paper turned into an owl and fluttered off into the distance.

That evening, Nicole sat down across from him at dinner with an intent look on her face and waggled her wand at him. Suddenly everything blacked out.

“Holy Smokes Nicole, did you just jinx me?”

“Yep.” Her friendly voice sounded across the table without any concern, and he felt another hand take his and press something into it. “Here you go, drink up.”

Logan hesitated for a moment, and then unstopped the flask and drank its contents. The stuff tasted like cave moss, but his vision came back in a slow, watery wave as though a veil of ink had been splashed across his eyes and was finally settling. He blinked quickly a few times and smiled at her.

“Was that the potion?”

“Yes. I had some free time coming up when I got your note, so I tried it out. Works quite nicely doesn’t it?”

“I’ll say. I don’t even know the counter-jinx for that. What all else does it work on?”

Nicole shrugged. “All active enchantments. I brewed up a couple liters of it so I had a good bit to test on things.”

“Did you save a couple flasks for the potion belt?”

Nicole smirked. “I actually had a better idea. I did put one in a flask worth about two uses, but I put the rest in some little glass orbs. Do you know what a Molotov cocktail is?”

Logan regarded her curiously. “I do. I’m surprised you do too, though.”

She shrugged happily. “I’m a half-blood. My mom follows BBC about as avidly as my dad does the Daily Prophet. Anyway, imagine that, but with this!”

Logan pondered the imaginary scene for a moment as he examined the bottle, and then let out a low whistle. “Handy!”

Nicole smiled happily and nodded. “I know. I was wondering, can I try it against one of your golems?”

Logan thought about the ones he had for a moment, and then grinned. “Sure, I’ve got just the one.”

Early the next morning, long before the sun came up, Logan and Nicole crept down the hall from the common room and exited the castle. The air was crisp, and the morning was cool. Probably one of the last they’d have before the Scottish weather started to take a turn for the worse. He was done collecting dew, so he wasn’t worried about time. The two young wizards made their way down the path toward the quidditch pitch and stopped in a little gap between two hills.

“Alright,” said Logan, fishing in his pocket. “I hope you’re not too attached to unicorns.”

“Nnnnnot really?” Nicole regarded him in confusion.

Logan smirked and tossed a little granite orb on the ground. When he flicked his wand at it, it crackled and came to life, swelling at the turn of his wand until it was a life-sized granite unicorn. It stamped and bucked its head, but remained in place.

“Alright, hit it.” Logan took a few steps back as he spoke. Nicole produced her potion bomb and overhanded it at the unicorn. When the orb shattered, the gentle lines of magical energy flared, and then slowly faded out starting at the place where the thief’s draught had burst on it. After a moment it was nothing but a lifeless stone sculpture. They both watched for a moment.

“It works!” Nicole exclaimed. Logan laughed and held a finger over his lips. “Madame, your potion crafting skills far exceed your stealthiness.”

Nicole giggled and turned away. “Sorry. But it works!”

Logan nodded, eyeing the stone curiously. “I wonder if the golem still works.” He waved his wand across it and waited for a moment. Nothing happened.

“The draught’s still on it,” Nicole pointed out.

“Oh yeah.” Logan tossed a hex into the air that manifested about halfway between them and the golem – it produced a strong surge of hot air that blasted over the golem without actually touching it with any magical effects that the draught would nullify. The result was a minute cloud of steam that sprang to life and gusted off the back of the stone unicorn like a contrail. Logan cast the activating charm again, and the unicorn came back to life, shuddered its imaginary coat.

“Excellent!” Nicole exclaimed, forgetting her volume again. Logan sniggered and waved a hand at her.

“Are you related to Ghastly?”

Nicole was stunned for a moment, then the meaning of his words sank in and she covered her face, laughing quietly. “Oh my goodness! He says that all the time, doesn’t he?”

Once the golem was tucked away, they headed back to the castle and slipped in just as the sun was coming up.

That day, during charms class, the teacher happened to ask whether or not deactivation spells permanently effected animated constructs. Logan and Nicole glanced at each other and snickered. Nicole answered the question, but when Logan glanced across the aisle at Winry, she was glowering at him. He immediately recoiled from her gaze and gave her a questioning look. She quirked an eyebrow suspiciously and went back to watching the teacher.

After class he caught up to her in the corridor and tapped her on the shoulder. “Hey, what’s up eyebrows?”

She glanced over at him spitefully. “You’ve been sneaking out with Nicole.”

“What?!” He balked, “we don’t sneak ou- oh wait!” He’d been so shocked by the accusation his memory of the day had disappeared for a moment.

“We actually did sneak out this mor… how’d you know that?” He suddenly returned Winry’s accusatory glare with doubled resolve.

She glowered and turned away. “That’s not important.”

“Oh, yes it is. I don’t mind you being my protector and champion but I’ve got conditions if you’re gonna be my stalker. How’d you know?”

Winry bit her lip for a moment, then she hesitantly drew her wand and pressed it to his chest. A letter-cast rune rose from him and displayed itself for a moment. He recognized it as a runic formula for seeking and finding, with his name hanging above it. “I got the idea a couple of weeks ago.”

Logan’s frown crumbled in the face of his fascination, and he eyed the runebind more carefully. There was nothing special about it, it was simply a letter-cast. It didn’t appear to have a timestamp motivated into it though, which meant theoretically it would ride with him indefinitely unless someone removed it.

“So you’ve just kinda been… tracking me?” Logan grinned at his girlfriend a little incredulously.

“It’s not just you.” Winry corrected him. She produced a sheet of paper from the folds of her robe and showed him. There were little runes all over the paper, wandering a basic sketch of the Hogwarts castle with attached names.

“I’ve tagged dozens of people. I started with the prefects though. I like their loo better than the one in Slytherin common room, but they keep a pretty close watch on it so I have to sneak past them. The map helps… And I just sort of started tagging other people too.”

“And you just happened to be watching me at 4am this morning?”

Winry stifled a smile. “I had to use the loo, and when I got back I was just sitting in the common room and glanced at you, cuz I see you get up and pace around your room at night sometimes.”

Logan grinned, looking at the map. “And you saw Nicole and I stepping out?”

“What were you doing, Logan? You went halfway to the pitch and just stood there facing her for like five minutes.” The accusatory tone in her voice made a reappearance, but it was weakened now.

Logan glanced down at the map and saw that there was a tracker on Nicole as well… And Henry, as it so happened. “Come here, lemme show you something.”

Moving the the edge of the wall, Logan peaked around the corner, and then motioned for Winry to join him. The two of them peaked around the corner, and found themselves watching a romantic little scene unfold. Nicole sat on a bench facing away from the courtyard, hugging her book bag and laughing in the bashful sort of way that she seemed to default to. Henry sat beside her, dazzling her with cheap little first-year magic tricks on a flower. It appeared to be doing some sort of little dance in the air before her, its pedals shifting colors across the whole spectrum as it spun.

“See? Why would I ever wanna break up something as cute as that?” without looking away, Logan reached over and took hold of Winry, smooshing her against his side in a sudden hug as she so often did to him. “Especially when I’ve got my own great thing going on.”

“So then why the 4am sneaking?” Winry huffed, still recouping her breath.

“Yesterday while I was sitting in the bleachers not practicing quidditch, I found a potion called Thieves’ Downfall. Are you familiar with it?”

“Enchantment dissolver?”

“Precisely. Now I’m a pretty decent potion brewer, but Nicole is brilliant at it, especially when it comes to borderline alchemical processes, so I asked her to whip some up for me. She did, and we tested it on one of my golems this morning. Worked like a charm.”

Logan snickered at his own pun; Winry merely rolled her eyes. “So… not snogging on the lawn.”

“Goodness woman, no. I’ve invested far too much time on you to throw it away on a cute smile.” He placed a sincere hand on his chest. “You understand me!”

Winry tried not to smile but it leaked through anyway. “Apparently not.”

“I mean, I think you scared yourself a little with this map of yours, but I get where you were coming from. I think if I had told you about it over breakfast it would’ve been a good laugh, but it does look pretty sketchy when you see it unfolding real time.”

Winry smiled. “I didn’t intend to stalk you.”

Logan hugged her a little more gently and kissed her head. “It’s okay. Honestly I think we’re kinda missing the point here. You can track people in real time with these letter-cast runebinds! Imagine what else we could do with them!”

The tournament gang assembled at the Hufflepuff table over dinner – butting out several underclassmen and forcing them to socialize as well – and brainstormed over Winry’s discovery. Quite a few excellent ideas came from it, but perhaps the finest was when Hawley pointed out the possibility of using it as a magical relay.

“I mean think about it,” he insisted. “whoever competes in the tournament probably won’t be allowed to carry Nicole’s bandolier around to each event with them. Half our preparations will be rubbish if we can’t figure out a way to get them to whoever’s name comes from the goblet next year…”

The whole group was suddenly silent. Hawley’s words resounded in their heads.

“Next year,” Logan said at last, a thin smile spreading across his face. “This all comes to fruition next year, guys. Let’s figure out Hawley’s puzzle soon.”

The first step was learning to control and manipulate the letter-casts from a far. Along the way, however, they discovered that they could attach a cast to one person, and then move it to another much more discretely than if they simply wrote a new cast and attached it to that person. This proved to be incredibly advantageous when the five of them started in the dueling club. Winry was the first to try it. She’d created a giant, wildly spinning globe of light and attached it to herself before walking into the duel, but once she got up to face her opponent, she rerooted the spell on him with little more than innocuous flourish of her wand. The moment the duel began, she activated it, and then worked him over with a series of stun spells as he flailed about trying to ward off the strange and frightening “curse” she had apparently cast on him. It wasn’t a trick that remained potent for more than a couple meetings, but Logan’s gang of duelists quickly became recognizable as a coherent unit by their use of it during and between duels.

Hawley eventually came across a spell that was designed to bridge two locations for non-living objects – some old piece of magic that had been incorporated into large wardrobes during one of the past wizarding wars – and with a little help from their charms professor, figured out how to create a temporary bridge without tying it to a solid object.

“This is quite a clever piece of magic, Hawley,” said the teacher, offering a bit of genuine praise one day. “You’ve really outdone yourself.”
Hawley only grinned and glanced at Logan. “Oh, I think it still has room for improvement.”

The next week, Winry figured out how to rip the magic from her little improvised tracking map and letter-cast it. Logan chuckled as he watched it. “My goodness, it’s like a digital GPS system powered by magic.”

“Say what now?” Winry looked at him as if he’d just spoken Greek.

“It looks like muggle technology.” He amended. “It’s brilliant though, babe. I think it’s my turn to make a contribution now. I’ll get with Hawley and see about using this to direct his relocation spell.”

Before any of that could happen of course, it was time to meet with professor McGonagall again.

“From what I hear you and your little cohort have been quite industrious lately.” She said, sitting again with him at the little side desk. This time there were no paper scraps between them, merely a smooth table surface.

“Yes ma’am. We’ve been trying to anticipate obstacles and figure out how to overcome them.”

McGonagall’s lips pinched into a thin smile and she shook her head. “I do hope you’re keeping notes. Professor Hoodlink said young Hawley’s translocation spell was nothing short of a reinvention of apparition. I take it you all had a hand in this?”

“That part was mainly his idea, but we’ve all been chipping in, trying to tweak the overall design.”

McGonagall raised an eyebrow. “Are you implying that his ingenious spell is only one piece of a larger puzzle?”

“I’d say the most important part, but yes ma’am. It has a lot to do with letter-casting; are you familiar with it?”

“Oh of course, I use it quite often.” McGonagall waved her wand off to one side and a perfect glowing outline of the Gryffindor crest appeared in mid-air. Logan was surprised by the ease and perfection of the shape, and made a note to try it himself later.

“Did you know you can attach letter-casts to people and things?”

She nodded dubiously. “Yes, not that I make a habit of doing so.”

Logan bobbed his eyebrows. “Did you know you can imbue letter-cast runebinds with magical motive and activate them later?”

McGonagall began to speak, and then paused, her eyes filled with a certain understanding after a moment. She nodded slowly. “As I said, Mr. Delius, I hope you’re keeping notes on these developments.”

He grinned. “I’ll make sure we do.”

“However, you have preparations to make that do not specifically involve your friends. The most difficult portion of which is now upon you. The mandrake root must be held in place while you eat, while you brush your teeth, and while you sleep. With some focus, you can make sure it stays in place through all these activities, but do you know where aspiring animagi most often lose track of their mandrake leaves?”

Logan shook his head.

“When they’re talking. I’ve already sent letters to your professors. You’re to spend the next month in silence. Do you have any objections to this?”
Logan began to voice his agreeability with the notion, but thought better of it and instead reached for his wand.

NO MA'AM

McGonagall smiled and produced a small jar from her robe containing the Mandrake leaf he’d given her at the beginning of the school year for safe keeping. “That’s the spirit mister Delius. Good luck.”

Logan opened the jar and placed the leaf in his mouth in her presence, and then bowed and departed.