#STEP ASIDE FOOLISH IS NOW MY COMFORT STREAMER

[ultramarcypan]

tradition

Arlo x Female Builder

It’s just a short little drabble I did for a friend, but I figured I could share!  I’ve played like 5 mines of My Time at Portia so I did have to do some research for this; warning that it may be OOC lmao.

It's been a strange year.   Good, all things considered she thinks, especially since she'd sailed to Portia on a whim to take over the decrepit workshop Pa had left her.  And workshop was also a generous term for the plot of land and shack she'd found upon her arrival; it had taken weeks of hacking and sawing at twigs and trees to save up enough lumber to patch the MANY holes in the house and slap together rudimentary machines for building anything more complex than a simple fishing pole.  She distinctly remembers how for the first month or so, every night she'd stumbled to bed with aching limbs and blistered, raw hands, and had to fight not to cry over the pain and the unfamiliarity of it all.  In her weakest moments, she'd even considered leaving.  Barnarock was only one boat ride away, and there was still a life waiting for her there.  She owed nothing to the sleepy little town of Portia, really.

But the townspeople had helped. They were a colorful bunch, the lot of them.  Barnarock was so different; people there minded their business and it was a miracle to get more than a curt nod from someone when you passed them in the street.  There was no mayor who had a good heart even if his business sense was questionable.  There wasn't just one restaurant, where people would call out to you as you passed by, invite you to chat and sit, buy you lunch because you looked tired, and then walk back with you to your house just because they could.  No one popped by unannounced at your house with a home-cooked meal because they'd made too much and were wondering if maybe she'd like some?  There were no rivals that---well, no, that wasn't being fair, Higgins was a unique person all the way around she figured, but it didn't make him any less crucial to the town all his.....eccentricities aside.   And there certainly wasn't any Civil Corp in Barnarock.  The people there scoffed at the notion of danger, living protected in high walls and isolated from the rest of the world.  The notion of animals and monsters roaming just in fields a stones throw from the town would've rocked them to their very core. The thought crosses her mind that her old friends would be shocked and possibly repulsed if she told them that she spent a good chunk of her time now spelunking in nearby caverns and sewers for precious ore and materials to support the town and the people that have become her new home and family. She's paid richly for her services, though she keeps insisting it's entirely too much.  It's not much different to how every shares their food, their clothes, their yarn, their tools with her---she has crafting materials to spare and the machines to turn them into things, so why shouldn't she give back to those who helped her start? Arlo had laughed when she told him as much.  "Well," he'd said around a grin.  "I imagine what you build has a lot more impact than just a homemade pie, no matter how nice it may be."  To emphasize his point, he'd gestured at his hip, where the gleaming sword she'd forged for him the month prior was strapped. Arlo was another thing that Barnarock didn't have.  That was the difference she was most acutely aware of. She remembers the first time she'd met him.  It had been two weeks, maybe, into her residency at Portia.  The fields around her home were relatively safe but also barren of any lumber, long since stripped bear due to her efforts to fix the place up.  And the colorful llamas that grazed just beyond had seemed so tame from far away. Turns out, the rainbow colors were the only nice things about them. She'd been on the ground, out of breath and bleeding from a nasty scrape on her forehead, dealing with the fact that a rainbow llama may actually be her cause of death when there had been a terrible shout from behind her.  Startled, the llama had reared and she closed her eyes waiting for pain that never came.  When she finally dared to open them, the animal was on the ground motionless, and someone, a stranger, was standing over her, leaning down. To her shame, she'd passed out then. She woke up in a building that she was able to identify as the Civil Corp headquarters in town, a place she'd passed by a few times but never actually bothered to go near.  She'd met them all that day, cheerful Sam who'd been the one to explain to her just what had happened, Remington who'd offered her a cup of team and a friendly pat on the shoulder while he'd looked over her cut once more, and Arlo, who'd lingered by the door watching her with sharp eyes and the hint of a frown.  Without the threat of dying to distract her, she'd been able to properly take in how broad his shoulders were, how sturdy his stance was, how comforting his very presence was. He'd shown up on her doorstep a week after she'd slunk out of their headquarters, apologizing profusely for her foolishness and thanking them over and over for their kindness.  She'd had all of 30 seconds to stammer out a hello and one more thank you for good measure before a wooden training sword was tossed at her. When she'd expressed confusion, Arlo had shifted his weight just a bit, looking her up and down.  "Training," he offered as explanation, and she'd blinked.  He had heaved a sigh, shoving his hands into his pockets.  "If you're going to be hard headed enough to wander straight into a herd of monsters," he'd said (which was a little RUDE, even if it was true) "Then I'm at the very least going to make sure you know how to defend yourself.  You can't count on me to protect you every time." "Can't I?" She'd mouthed off before she could stop herself, and then clamped a hand over her mouth.  There was silence for a moment where she was gearing herself up to apologizing once again to him when he'd laughed---a deep belly laugh, loud and proud and actually pretty nice to hear. "Flattered as I am that you think I'm that talented, let's err on the side of caution."  He'd spun around to walk over to an empty spot on her land and it hadn't even occurred to her not to follow. So yeah, it's been a strange year.  Learning how to sword fight, how to build, how to be part of such a tight knit community hadn't exactly been on her agenda, but she's not upset at how it's turned out at all.  And now, the year is almost over. Celebrations in Portia are just one more difference between it and Barnarock.  The town goes all out on holidays, and New Year's Eve isn't an exception to this rule.  She's never seen the plaza look so full of life, so bright.  The amount of candles lit all over is so high she's pretty sure it could count as a fire hazard, and there are streamers and ribbons and balloons of every color no matter where she looks.  The tables from The Round Table have all been dragged outside and not a single towns-person is missing, all crammed around them, sitting and mingling together and watching the clock tower tick down as a new year approaches them. She's huddled against the wall of Town Hall, preferring to leave the seats to some of the older folks who need them or to some of the kids who are struggling to stay up, slumped over onto the table with their heads pillowed on their arms.  There's movement out of the corner of her eye and she tenses for just a moment before she sees a flash of bright red.  "Hey Arlo." "Well, fancy seeing you here."  He drawls.  She rolls her eyes--where else would she be on the night of a festival?  "Mind if I join you?" "Not at all."  He slides closer, pressing against the wall with her, letting their shoulders brush against each other.  "Kinda shocked to see you here," she tells him casually, ignoring the way her heart is beating against her ribcage.  "Figured you'd be out in the wilds playing hero or something equally as noble." He huffs a quiet laugh, bumping against her lightly.  "Not tonight," he says.  "Even heroes have to rest now and again." There's a lot of ways she could answer that.  She could tease him for his constant need to serve and protect---one of his more admirable qualities, even if it worried her and the rest of the Civil Corp to no end.  She could accept it for the simple statement of truth it is, grunt and let the comfortable silence that is so common between them take over. Or she could be more daring.  More forward.  More honest with the feelings that the two of them have been dancing around for an eternity now.  Say something like 'Well, who am I to turn away a hero in need?' as she leaned more heavily into him, let her hand brush against his, let her thumb stroke over the calluses on his palm that she knows are there from years of training and hard work. She doesn't have to choose any of those options though, because a sudden shout goes up from the plaza and both of them turn, startled.  Gale has both of his hands in the air, and a RIDICULOUS party hat on his head, pointing up at the clock tower.  "10 seconds left!" The people of Portia cheer loudly, and she doesn't even bother to fight the fond smile that finds its way onto her face.  They count as one, loud and happy even in the cold night.  "10!  9!" "Hey."  It's the urgency in Arlo's voice that has her turning towards him.  It's rare for him to sound so serious without any immediate danger present.  He's fiddling with the hilt of his sword, a nervous habit he doesn't seem to be aware he has. "Yeah?" "8! 7! 6!" Arlo takes a deep breath in and it would be FUNNY that he looks so nervous because it is so wildly out of character, but instead it just makes her anxious as well.  "I'm gonna do something that may be stupid."   "What?" "5! 4! 3!" He takes a step towards her and then another, and even if she wanted to back up, the brick wall of Town Center is behind her, stopping any possible retreat.  "It's tradition?"  It's half a question, half a justification she hears from him.  "So I'm really sorry in advance if you get mad at me, but I've also really wanted to do this for months now." "Do WHAT Arlo?"  She's blinking rapidly up at him, at how close he is, praying that he can't hear the drumbeat of her heart over the shouts of the crowd. "2! 1!" Instead of a verbal answer, he swoops down on her and she has maybe a millisecond to process the sound of party poppers from the crowd as the countdown ends, the smell of his earthy cologne that's right there, the feel of his hands on her shoulder, before his lips are on hers and he's kissing her, right there in the plaza like it's the most natural thing in the world. "HAPPY NEW YEARS!" Her arms flail at her side and a distant part of her mind is shocked that she's made it as long as she has fighting monsters and mining if she's taken out by something as simple as a kiss.  That tiny voice gets shoved far to the side as she realizes that Arlo is pulling away, most likely because she's doing a wonderful impression of a stone statue right now.  Panic overwhelms all her higher functions and she latches onto his shoulders, tugging him closer again and finally, FINALLY getting the sense to respond to the kiss properly. It's nothing special.  It's barely more than the brush of lips against each other, chaste and shy and shorty really.  She pulls away after a few seconds and the first thing she manages to process is that Arlo is blushing, which is funny because the red of his face clashes horribly with the orange of his hair.  She giggles, overwhelmed by the whole situation, and burrows her face into the crook of his neck shoulders shaking slightly. "Well that's not very nice."  He sounds just as shaky as she feels, which is nice.  "A man kisses you on New Year's Eve and you laugh at him?  Don't know how things work where you're from, but a kiss on New Year's Eve is pretty traditional."  One of his hands has wandered to the small of her back and is hovering just above it, like he's afraid to touch her fully.  "Didn't take you for the bullying sort." "You misunderstand."  She mumbles into his neck, lips brushing against the soft flesh there.  She leans back just enough to grin at him, all teeth and promise.   "I'm just a stickler for tradition." And she pulls him down for another kiss.

#my time at portia #arlo #arlo x female builder

[magicalforcesau]

Dancing with Ghosts in Your Garden~ Chapter 2: Year 1- September

Ao3 link

September 1st couldn’t come quick enough for Anakin Skywalker. Since his dalliance in Diagon Alley, it seemed summer dragged on even more than it had before. Every night, his mother paid off their rent to the cruel and gruff Watto, who Anakin couldn’t stand with every fiber of his being. He made Shmi walk around in tight dresses and tolerate crude patrons all in the name of business. 

She was able to get the morning off to escort him to King’s Cross, where he would meet the train that was to take him to Hogwarts.

“Platform… 9 and ¾… That can’t be right!” He read aloud as they walked through the station. Shmi dragged a cart with his few belongings trailing behind. While she was always coy (despite Anakin’s constant questions) about her time at Hogwarts and her feelings about the wizarding world, a fond smile still crossed her lips as he said this.

Sure enough, it had not been a misprint and one shocking stroll through a brick wall later, they were faced with a ruby-red train that had “Hogwarts Express” emblazoned on the front and side. 

Countless families bustled around them excitedly, but time seemed to pass slowly for Anakin as he stood in awe. There were only fellow witches and wizards on this platform and all had the same purpose as he did. His heart raced and suddenly his hand felt sweaty in his mother’s grasp.

She looked down at him, confusion knitting her eyebrows together. “What’s wrong, Ani?”

As he looked up at her kind face, he realized for the first time, they would be apart. For as much as his curiosity got the better of him, that thought still pained him a great deal. Something about this parting hurt more. Knowing there was a darkness he did not understand out there and being so inexperienced only gave him more hesitance. 

“I don’t want to leave you.” He said.

She sighed, “I know I was against you going away to school before, but that was selfish of me. Our paths will cross again very soon and I’ll look forward to hearing about all of your adventures.”

He had so many questions- many of which she likely would not answer for reasons she would not give. It was simultaneously frustrating and terrifying, but he had to respect her caution, because rarely did his mother do anything without a just reason. 

“I will become the strongest wizard that ever was.” He vowed, “And I’ll get us out of this stupid town so you never have to work for a creep like Watto ever again.”

Her eyes were very sad at that, even though Anakin was trying to tell her that he would save them- to comfort her. She pulled him into a tight hug and kissed the top of his head.

“Worry not about being powerful. Worry about being kind. That is all I can ask from you.”

He didn’t see why he couldn’t do both? After all, he could kindly give them a better life one day. She deserved that and he knew it. He would make her proud and grow strong and successful so that Shmi Skywalker never had to worry or want for anything ever again.

“I won’t disappoint you, mum.” He said.

“You never could, Ani.”

With one last wistful look and a slight nudge forward, Anakin finally stepped onto the train and forced himself not to look back.

Unfortunately, this caused him to run square into another passenger and send their luggage tumbling to the ground. Immediately panic-stricken and apologetic, he lept into action to assist the unsuspecting victim.

“I am so sorry!” He scrambled. “I was saying goodbye to my mum and-”

He drifted off from there, because when he met her warm brown eyes, the entire world seemed to go blank. There was no magic, reality, or goodbye’s so long as he was in her presence. His tongue felt fat in his mouth and unable to form anymore words. That sweaty feeling returned to his hands for a whole different reason.

“Um…” He said dumbly.

“It’s alright. It didn’t hurt or anything.” The girl said with ease and quickly collected her things. Her hair was tied back in a complicated series of braids that looped in all directions and even contained streamers of gold in their chestnut waves. He didn’t usually notice that kind of thing, but he was inexplicably drawn to everything about her. 

She wore a red tie with the female equivalent of the uniforms he’d purchased in Diagon Alley. She didn’t look nearly as awkward in them as he felt he had. Then again, hers were neatly pressed and likely not secondhand. The crest on her robe had a golden lion and the word “Gryffindor” etched into the bottom. 

“Er, nice lion.” He blurted.

She furrowed her brow as they both rose to their feet. “Pardon?”

He felt his eyes go round. He hadn’t exactly planned on saying that out loud. Perhaps it held some significance that was commonly known? Now, she would surely think of him as a fool.

“Gryffindor.” He said instead.

Realization bloomed across her cheeks and Anakin would do just about anything to see her smile like that again. “Oh! Yes. Is that what you’re hoping for?”

Not knowing what else to say, he just nodded.

“Cool, well, maybe I’ll see you later then.”

“If I’m actually looking forward.” He muttered.

He didn’t make it two steps before a funny looking creature wearing a green tie stopped him with a long brown finger to the chest. Like Tera Sinube, he had a snout, but it wasn’t nearly as long. He had the color and physique of a grasshopper with the wings of a bat. His eyes were narrowed at Anakin with suspicion.

“Hey, Shrimp! You talkin’ to my lady?” He asked in a gravelly voice.

His teeth were small and displaced while gray in color. 

Anakin, never one to back down from a fight, steadied his feet and prepared for the worst.

“And who are you supposed to be?” He asked. “Because there’s no way she’s with you .” 

He shoved the long finger away from him and the creature’s cronies “ooh’ed” and “ah’ed” as though Anakin was really in for it. In reality, they didn’t know who they were toying with. 

“Watch yourself, kid. I can smell the muggle right off ya.” His smile broadened. “And ya see… My family doesn’t take kindly to muggles.”

“Yeah, well muggles have noses too. I doubt they like you much either.” Anakin challenged and the rest of the cart hushed to listen in on the budding friction.

He hadn’t even stepped three feet onto the train and was already getting into a fight. Well, in Anakin’s experience, it was better to assert yourself earlier rather than later. Bullies like this chump were everywhere and he didn’t care for any of them.

He whipped out his wand and shoved it against Anakin’s chin. He willed himself not to tremble. Yet again, the wand that sat in his sweatshirt pocket was useless if he wasn’t sure how to use it. Up close, he could see the patch on this older kid’s robe said “Slytherin”, which seemed fitting for a snake.

“I’ll turn you inside out you little-”

“-What’s going on here?” A firm and calm voice asked. 

Instantly, the crowd parted to make way for the familiar face of the prefect that Anakin had met in Diagon Alley. His hair was still neatly combed as it had been before, but this time he wore a blue variant of the uniform Anakin had come to know. His patch said “Ravenclaw” and had a black bird in the midst of it. His uniform was pressed and extra crisp in comparison to everyone else’s, which was saying something as everyone likely had their parents iron their clothes before coming. 

More distinctly, was the prefect pin that was attached to his lapel.

Everyone seemed to preoccupy themselves to avoid trouble. Of course, except Anakin’s opponent. His eyes still burned through Anakin with venom.

“Sebulba.” The Prefect’s voice grew stern. “I don’t think I need to remind you how severe attacking a student out of duelling club? Let alone in a strike against an unknowing first year . Hm?”

There was another beat where Sebulba seemed to seriously contemplate this, before dropping his hand altogether.

“That’s what I thought.” He said. “Carry on and do try to keep your wand to yourself.”

Some other passengers giggled at that, which earned them a glare from the properly admonished Sebulba. Anakin was relieved, but not foolish enough to believe this was actually over. 

Still, the Prefect nodded his head in a motion to follow him and led him through the rest of the cabin to a compartment in the very back. 

“Sorry about that.” He muttered.

“When I said to reach out, I hadn’t realized it would be so soon.” The older boy chastised. 

Anakin grimaced. “You’ve saved me twice and I haven’t even caught your name.”

“All in a day’s work for a prefect.” The older boy smiled in good nature. “My name is Obi-Wan Kenobi.”

He reached out his hand formally and Anakin silently wondered if this kid really was an old man incarnate of some kind. “I’m Anakin Skywalker.”

“Well, Anakin, I feel the best way to keep you out of trouble for the remainder of the train-ride is to keep a close watch on you. Don’t need you flying out the window or anything of the sort.”

Anakin, while more interested in meeting and sitting with the girl he’d met earlier, conceded that it might be better to lay low for the rest of the ride. He wanted to at least make it to Hogwarts before getting kicked out.

Obi-Wan slid the door aside and revealed two other older students that seemed to be in his year. The one who sat on the right was a tan-skinned boy with a square jaw and a dark crew cut. Like the girl Anakin met earlier, he wore a red tie and that Gryffindor crest on his robe. He was handsome and fit and Anakin briefly wondered if there were sports offered at Hogwarts. If so, this guy was definitely involved. Unlike Obi-Wan, there was a natural physical dominance that emanated off of him, even as he ate a sandwich.

Across from him, a blonde girl sat with long legs crossed and a book balanced on her lap. She was objectively pretty, but intimidating with fierce blue eyes that instantly shot to inspect Anakin as though he were a bomb that needed to be diffused. Her lips were pursed in natural contemplation, which made her already defined cheekbones sharper. Her uniform matched Obi-Wan’s exactly, even down the prefect button. She, of course, wore a skirt and knee socks. 

“Anakin, this is Cody Fett and Satine Kryze.” Obi-Wan nodded. “Satine is my fellow co-prefect of House Ravenclaw and Cody is captain of the Gryffindor Quidditch team.”

“You can just say we’re friends, you know.” Cody drawled and grinned at Anakin. He still had food in his mouth, but was friendly all the same. “Nice to meet you, kid.”

Satine crossed her arms, her gaze growing all the more scrutinizing. “And just what stray have you brought in this time, Ben?”

Anakin wrinkled his nose in confusion and looked up to Obi-Wan, whose features made it clear that this was a conversation they’d had before. Many times. Cody seemed prepared to return full focus to his sandwich.

“Merely performing my duties as prefect in preventing a scuffle, actually .” He said. “Is that alright with her esteemed prefect?”

She narrowed her eyes at Anakin. “A scuffle? The train hasn’t even left yet.”

“It was Sebulba.” Obi-Wan said and the two stared at each other in quiet understanding.

“Sebulba is a prat.” She muttered. “Right, well, come on in. We should be leaving soon.”

So, Anakin elected to sit next to Cody. He would have sat next to Obi-Wan, considering he was the one who invited him in the first place, but for some reason Obi-Wan opted to sit beside Satine despite the obvious tension there. 

“I thought you said your name was Obi-Wan.” Anakin said, unsure if he’d heard him incorrectly before.

“It is Obi-Wan.” He said while shooting Satine a pointed stare accompanied with a nudge of her foot for emphasis. “One botched roll-call our first year and Satine can’t seem to let it go.”

She shrugged. “Try as you might to convince everyone, your name is not poetry.”

“It practically rhymes.”

“Not all poetry rhymes.” She rolled her eyes.

“Please excuse them.” Cody sighed and winked at Anakin. “They’ve got regularly scheduled arguments to adhere to.”

“Oh yeah?” Anakin chuckled as he watched the two go back and forth.

“Throws off their entire day if they don’t. Bet ya wish you were in detention, huh?”

Anakin snorted. “I’m just glad to be here at all.”

“I can see that.” He nodded. “I’ve got a little brother in your year. You should meet him. He likes troublemakers.”    

***

The rest of the journey to Hogwarts was surprisingly uneventful, save for the excitement that the candy trolley brought from Anakin. Obi-Wan purchased chocolate frogs and cauldron cakes for the whole compartment, which was a relief given Anakin did not have his own funds to acquire such distinct treats.

“Aw, bloody hell.” Cody cursed.

“What is it?” Satine asked. 

“Another Helga Hufflepuff.” He groaned. “I’ve already got three of them.”

“Maybe you’ve been eating too many chocolate frogs then.” Obi-Wan smirked.

Lifting up the hem of his shirt to reveal a sculpted tan abdomen, he cocked his head. “I think I can spare a few more, actually.”

“Yeah,” Satine agreed, which earned her a cross look from Obi-Wan,  “I’m just being honest!”

He rolled his eyes, “Well, would a Rowena Ravenclaw shut you up about it?”

“I think it might.” Cody smiled and nudged Anakin. “Who’d you get?”

Anakin squinted at his own card “Some little troll named Yoda?”

He obviously said something wrong, because while Cody burst into a fit of uncontrollable laughter, Satine simply shot Obi-Wan a confused look, and Obi-Wan avoided her stare by awkwardly coughing over his chocolate frog.

“Um- Anakin, that’s the Headmaster of the school.” He scratched the back of his neck. “And I do not recommend calling him a little troll if and when you meet him.”

Anakin felt his face go red. “These are real people?”

“Yes, that’s why they’re moving.” He said gently.

“Muggle cards don’t move.” Satine said. “And they are typically fictional characters unless they’re sports trading cards.”

“Muggle cards don’t move?” Cody sneered. “Why bother, then?”

She narrowed her eyes. “Some people have an attention span that lasts longer than three seconds, Cody, and don’t need pretty things to distract us.”

“Oh you’ve got a lot of nerve, considering what you’re always distracted by. Or shall I say who y-”

That resulted in Satine’s cauldron cake bouncing off his head, which he caught in his mouth afterwards. It broke the tension of whatever he was going to say and they all shared a laugh. 

“So, who are the people on your cards?” Anakin asked, not wanting the moment to pass and embarrass himself later.

“I got Godric Gryffindor.” Satine showed him. “Gryffindor house, much like its founder, picks only those who are daring, bold, and brave first and foremost. He was most in favor of allowing muggle borns into Hogwarts.”

Obi-Wan nodded. “Unlike Salazar Slytherin, who we don’t have a card of, but he founded Slytherin house and praised those that were cunning and ambitious. And of course, purely bred.”

Anakin frowned. There was that tendency to bring up blood-lineage. Did such things truly matter in this world? Was that why his mother had left?

“The two severred ties over that.” Satine said sagely. “Slytherin house doesn’t accept solely purebloods at this point, but they rarely pick those of just muggle birthright.”

“Rowena Ravenclaw, who represents our house,” Obi-Wan gestured to himself and Satine. “She chose only those that demonstrated wisdom, wit and intellect.”

“Not to mention creativity.” Satine added. 

“We get it, you’re nerds.” Cody said and flipped his card to Anakin. “Helga Hufflepuff is the founder of Hufflepuff house at Hogwarts. She’s already vanished for a while, but she’s a stout woman all dressed in gold.”

“More importantly,” Satine said sternly, “Helga Hufflepuff was the only founder not to have specific requirements for her students. She accepted anyone, which meant everyone in her house was typically characterized as loyal and true.”

“Hufflepuffs are good to have on your side.” Obi-Wan said. “A good friend of ours, Bail Organa, is a Hufflepuff.”

“Unless that team is Quidditch.” Cody whistled. “Even Kenobi can outplay everyone on their team.”

“I’ve gotten better!” He retorted.

Satine leaned forward. “For reference, Quidditch is the biggest sport in the wizarding world. Ben plays Keeper position for Ravenclaw’s team and Cody is a chaser..”

“You don’t play?” Anakin asked.

“God, no.” She scoffed. “Not only is it totally barbaric, but I’m really not much into flying. It gives you a headache just watching. The matches go on forever.”

“You can’t hate it that much.” Obi-Wan said. “You’re at every match.”

“One of these days, you’ll be glad I’m there to scrape your remains off the field.” She straightened. “Besides, it wouldn’t be very becoming for me not to support my house if I stand a shot of being Head Girl one day.”

Anakin already knew when he heard flying was involved that Quidditch would be the sport for him. He simply leaned back and sighed.

“I think I’d like to be a Gryffindor.” He said.

Cody smacked him on the back. “Right on ya, mate. I hope you are!”

“You hope?”

“You don’t get to choose.” Satine frowned. “It’s about who you are.”

Anakin didn’t see how anybody could know who he was. He didn’t know them and they didn’t know him. The only person who understood him was far away and likely heading back to an empty flat, worried about the unknown. His heart sagged at that.

***

Both Obi-Wan and Satine got up early as per their mandate as prefects to help gather the first years and show them where to go. This meant, sadly, that Anakin would not be allowed to enter with either them or the pretty Gryffindor girl from earlier. He wondered what year she was in. She didn’t look that much older than him.

Instead, he and the other 11 year olds were shepherded into several small rowboats, which seemed silly at first. Were they seriously going to force them to row to shore? 

Of course not. Much to Anakin’s excitement, the boats seemed to be enchanted to move on their own accord. Not only that, but what they were moving towards was more magnificent than anything he’d seen in his entire life.

Hogwarts was a vision at night.

 Granted, he’d never seen it in daylight, but basked in the moonlight that reflected off the black expanse of water that surrounded it, the castle looked straight out of a painting. Perched atop a series of rocks and eclipsing anything in the far distance with warm orange lighting accentuating its impressive and domineering architecture, to say it was anything less than awe-inducing would have been a lie.

Anakin must have been obvious in his shock, because a hand slowly closed his mouth. He looked over to who the hand belonged to and almost asked Cody why he was situated with the first years. Before he could say something so utterly stupid, he realized this was the younger brother Cody had referenced earlier.

Aside from having the exact same face as his older brother, this boy did look younger and smaller in stature without the layers of muscle that Cody had built from growth and working out. His hair was nearly shaved to the skin and was bleached so that it appeared to glow in the moonlight. 

“Better close your mouth, mate.” He said, “Lots of blowflies by the water.”

“I’ve never seen anything like it.” He said in awe.

“None of us have.” Cody’s brother smiled. “Not in person, anyway.”

“Not anywhere for me.” Anakin thought.

“I’m Rex. I’ve got lots of brothers that have passed through Hogwarts.” 

“I’m Anakin Skywalker,” Anakin turned to him, “I’ve met your brother, Cody.”

Rex rolled his eyes, but smiled. “Everyone’s met Cody. He’s the one people remember most.”

“Because of how good he is at Quidditch?”

“Is that what he said?” He laughed, “I’m better than him and I haven’t even hit a growth spurt yet. I’m looking to be on the squad next year.”

“Why not this year?” Anakin asked.

“Oh, first years can’t join up.”

Admittedly, the concept of getting to fly being delayed another second, let alone another year, deflated something within Anakin. Although, it was tough to be too upset when they were drawing closer and closer to the place that would make it all possible for him.

***

Anakin was pleased to be rounded into Obi-Wan’s orientation group for guiding them through the castle. He didn’t walk beside him, knowing how much he loathed the kiss-up’s in school. He doubted it was much different in the wizarding community. Rex stayed close and explained the details of what they were likely to go through that evening, right down to how a hat was about to decide their fates. 

“That’s insane!” Anakin hissed.

“If you think that’s mad, you’ve got a lot coming.” He chuckled. “We haven’t started classes yet.”

“If you are quite finished chatting, Mr. Skywalker and Mr. Fett, I’d like to get you all into the sorting ceremony.” Obi-Wan said stiffly.

Anakin winced apologetically, but any guilt was washed away when they’d walked into the dining hall. Despite being totally inside, a clear night sky with twinkling stars hung above them as well as an array of floating candles. Used to the mechanics of the muggle world, Anakin found himself trying to find the strings that held the candles up, but reminded himself just where he was.

He looked over to Rex, who despite his claims to understand all of this already, still looked impressed.

“I’d like to learn charms like that one day.” He said quietly.

“That’s why we’re here.” Anakin smiled and they gathered around the front of the room. Each of the four long tables that ran vertical were full of students all donned in pointy black hats. Obi-Wan and Satine sat together at the Ravenclaw table and while he honestly looked to Gryffindor’s table to try and spot Cody, he was instantly distracted by the girl from earlier. He could not name what it was about her that transfixed him, but he knew he had to find out.

Up front and sitting facing all of them, were several adults that already had plates full of food and wine glasses in front of them. Qui-Gon Jinn was amongst the row of adults that sat behind the podium. Central to them, there was a stand significantly larger for the Headmaster of the school.

The one who, Anakin would try terribly hard not to refer to as a little green troll.

Even if that was the best way to define Headmaster Yoda. 

Despite his wrinkles and seemingly frail physique, there were years of wisdom and knowledge there. He sat on what could best be described as a floating high chair and laid calm eyes across the crowd of students. On the other side of him, was an elderly human man, who wore ornate dark robes and had slicked back white hair. His face was pale and his eyes were dark, but there was a small smile at his lips.

Clearly, he’d caught Anakin staring, because he nodded at him in good nature and seemed to size him up before casting his direction elsewhere.

“That’s Professor Palpatine, head of Slytherin house.” Rex said. “Nicest head of house Slytherin has had in ages. Usually, they’re all prats according to my brothers.”

Anakin remembered the altercation he’d had earlier with Sebulba and shook his head. “I’d say he still has some work to do.”

Surprisingly, Headmaster Yoda did not stand to greet them. Instead, a dark-skinned bald man rose to his feet and held out a large stretch of parchment. His jaw was strong and his eyes were deadly serious and practically black. He struck Anakin as more of a warrior than a professor judging by his domineering confidence and simple robes.

“Welcome to Hogwarts, first years. I’m Professor Mace Windu.  As you can gather, before you join your classmates, you must be sorted into your proper house. When I call your name, please come up and I will place the sorting hat on your head. First up, Rex Fett.”

“I guess they’re not going in alphabetical order.” He smiled at Anakin before going up. 

Despite being the youngest of a string of Gryffindors, Rex walked up to the front with the ease and confidence of someone who wasn’t shouldering the responsibility of a family legacy. Anakin wondered if it mattered to him which house he was placed in. Would they be upset if he was placed elsewhere? Everyone seemed very proud of their houses and to represent them. He probably should have asked before such a decision was coming to fruition. 

The hat hardly had to touch his head before it bellowed out, “GRYFFINDOR!”

Anakin flinched slightly from the sudden outburst. He hadn’t realized the hat was literally going to say where they belonged. He’d question the legitimacy of the process if he wasn’t utterly captivated.

Gryffindor house burst into a fit of applause and they all greeted and patted Rex on the shoulder as he sat down. He sat beside his brothers and wore a bright and knowing smile on his face as though he knew where he’d belonged all along. 

Anakin wished he had that level of direction.

“Tol Skorr.” Professor Windu’s deep voice boomed over the excited children, which they all took as their cue to quiet down.

Not long after, “SLYTHERIN!” was called triumphantly.

Anakin continued to deeply ponder if he cared about which house he would end up with. He’d already met some interesting people from most of the houses save for Hufflepuff. Satine made it sound like it was a very accepting house, which he wouldn’t mind given how little he knew about all of this.

Despite having Sebulba in it, he considered himself to be ambitious. He wanted to become the most powerful wizard that ever lived. That had to pertain to ambition, correct? Of course, when he looked over at those kids, they were the quietest table and looked very intense. 

He truly liked the idea of being in Ravenclaw. He’d already found himself looking up to Obi-Wan for guidance. He figured if there was anyone to follow in order to prevent himself from getting kicked out of this school, it was him. Satine seemed as though she would no doubt be a package deal if he was to hang around Obi-Wan.

Of course, why would he want to spend time with a first year?

Gryffindor had its obvious appeal and also sounded incredibly in tune with who he was. He was brave! And bold. Someone who wasn’t bold didn’t get kicked out of several schools for a multitude of ‘bold’ moves. 

He’d been so lost in thought that he somehow missed his name being called. He knew this, because Professor Windu tapped him on the shoulder and he quickly turned around gaped at the man, who towered over him.

“Skywalker. You’re up.” He said darkly, “And I suggest you pay attention lest you miss what the hat has to say.”

Anakin gulped. “Sorry, sir.”

He walked past Mace Windu and up to the chair that sat in the center of the stage. Everyone else’s sorting seemed to go by in a matter of seconds, but his felt as though it dragged on for hours. Sweat gathered at his temples and he couldn’t name why. Unlike the other sortings, he could hear the things the hat didn’t speak as though they were the thoughts crossing Anakin’s mind. It felt as if he was being mentally invaded.

“Hmm… Yes, very interesting… Ambition, bravery, loyalty… Not bad at all, Mr. Skywalker. You have been chosen for great things, indeed. Let’s see, but where to put you?”

“Gryffindor or Ravenclaw.” He squeezed his eyes shut, unsure when he’d made the choice.

The hat laughed, “Well, certainly not Ravenclaw. No offense, but are you sure not Slytherin? I’m sensing a great unrest within you, determined to be ousted and grown into something magnificent.”

Anakin thought his heart was pounding in his ears. 

“Very well…” The hat sighed, “Don’t say I didn’t warn you. GRYFFINDOR!!!!!”

By the way the audience at Gryffindor’s table all cheered, he guessed they only heard the last bit, but even though Anakin had gotten what he’d wanted, he felt as though he’d been doused with cold water. Why did the hat feel the need to warn him?

“Looks like you got what you wished for.” A lovely voice said as he walked by.

He almost broke his neck from the double-take he made and forced a bright smile her way.

Yes, but at what cost?

***

Obi-Wan understood that with his fifth year, significantly more responsibility would come into play. Aside from acquiring prefect status (much to his and his parents' satisfaction), there were OWLS to worry about and it was the time for him to take up a protégé. It was a very prestigious honor to mold the minds of the youth and of course when the program opened up, he had readily been the first to volunteer. 

Satine claimed he had too much on his plate to instruct anyone, but she was also the second person to volunteer so he didn’t see how she had all that much room to talk. As his only academic rival and closest friend, she was surely under a similar level of stress.

Well, that just wasn’t true, and he knew it. Satine didn’t have the same familial duties to uphold and while an honor to carry on the Kenobi name, he wouldn’t be honest if he said it wasn’t daunting at times.

“I knew that Skywalker kid was a total Gryffindor.” She said after the housing ceremony. “Didn’t you?”

“Hm?” He hadn’t been paying all that much attention, if he was honest. “Oh, yes. Definitely.”

She bit her lip as she always did just before she was about to lecture him. “You seem more lost in outer space than usual.”

He glared at her. “Thanks for that. You know how serious this decision is.”

She sighed, “As prefects we get the first pick. We’ll get the cream of the crop if we so choose. I’d say the Ravenclaw first years seem fairly mild this year anyway.”

She may have been playing casual, but he knew her better than that to know that she was very nervous about the prospect of influencing a younger student. While practically the poster child for perfection in academics, behavior, and extra-curriculars, Satine still tended to have her own doubts.

“I’m sure it’ll be fine.” He said with an earnest smile. “You’ll be nagging the luckiest first year Ravenclaw in no-time.”

“I do not nag.” She shoved him through the door and he laughed. 

“Doesn’t she nag?” Obi-Wan asked their favorite professor, who sat with hands crossed behind his desk, looking as though he’d likely been expecting them.This earned Obi-Wan a swat on the shoulder from Satine.

“My favorite students.” Qui-Gon said. “Welcome back.”

To be fair, no one else had arrived yet. 

Satine smirked. “You can just go ahead and say Ben is. I won’t be hurt.”

“Oh contraire, Miss Kryze.” The tall man said coyly. “I believe you scored higher on my final exam last year.”

“By half a point.” She waved him off as though it weren’t a big deal to her. 

“Who’s keeping score anyway.” Obi-Wan rolled his eyes at her and she nudged him in response.

“Where’s everyone else?” She asked.

“Coming, I’m sure. You know how everyone tends to idle on the first night back. I can always count on you to be on time. It’s just as fitting too, because there is something I wanted to talk about with Obi-Wan. Satine, you may stay.”

She flopped into a chair off to the side. “What an honor.”

“If it helps, I think Obi-Wan could use a good nag every once in a while.”

“Hey!” Both students protested, to which Qui-Gon laughed merrily. 

“It is good to be back.”

Obi-Wan sighed and shifted in his stance. Why did he feel like Qui-Gon was about to drop some unforeseen and unwelcome duty upon him? Not only that, but did Satine have to have a front row seat to this melodrama?

“I know I cannot choose your protégé for you, Obi-Wan, but I think over these past few years, I’ve come to know you very well. Wouldn’t you say so?”

“I would.” He agreed.

“And while I know it is tradition for a fifth year to pick someone from their own house to mentor, it is not a written rule. Sometimes it is important for us to sacrifice what is status quo for what is right. What I’m about to ask is a lot, but can you please choose Anakin Skywalker as your mentee for the program?”

Obi-Wan let the question settle on him for a second, but he found no shock in this request. He should have, because many would be opposed to choosing outside their houses for a number of reasons. For one, it made instructing difficult when you didn’t share the same experiences, schedules, or common rooms. For another thing, those that shared houses were typically hardwired similarly. Of course, everyone had their differences, but there was a reason rivalries exist. 

There was also the fact that his parents would disapprove of him selecting a Gryffindor. Had Anakin been a Slytherin, they would have been more understanding, but a Gryffindor? That was not going to get him friendly results.

Anakin was clearly not going to be a very easy case either. Everyone saw this both on the Hogwarts Express as well as in front of everyone at the sorting ceremony. Prefects always picked students who they could see themselves in or see high potential in. When Obi-Wan looked at Anakin, he saw the opposite of himself- whether that was good or bad.

However, he kept lingering back on that moment he’d found a desperate and frightened boy tumbling out of the shadows and into the light. He’d looked terrified yet unmarred by the horrors of the wizarding world. He’d been so relieved to find Obi-Wan, who pondered several times what would have happened if Anakin stumbled across a more menacing wizard. 

There was something special about him, even if he couldn’t put his finger on it, and now it seemed Qui-Gon saw the very same unknown factor. Not that Obi-Wan really cared whether Anakin was special or not. He just wanted to help him get through this year.  

“I accept.” He said, much to Qui-Gon’s smile of approval.

“Ben…” Satine said warily.

“My mind is made up.” He said, shutting down any disapproval.

“When isn’t it?” She returned angrily and stood to her feet. 

He was taller than her this year- much to his relief, though he wasn’t sure why that suddenly mattered to him. Perhaps it was because Satine was starting to look a lot more mature than him. He could pretend he didn’t notice all he wanted, but the fact was, last year he was starting to feel like a lanky child next to her. Now, as she stood across from him with hands on her hips and annoyance in her bright blue eyes, he just felt unsettled.

Still, he was holding his ground on this.

“Qui-Gon wouldn’t be asking if it wasn’t important, right sir?”

“That is correct. However, this does need to be your choice alone.”

“And I just think you should take a minute to consider it!” She said. “You said it yourself that you’d found him lingering about in Knockturn Alley all alone a few weeks ago.”

“I’ve also been there quite a few times.” He said stiffly, which he knew would cause her to flinch the way she did, though he wasn’t proud of it. “Would that make me less of a viable choice?”

She tightened her jaw. “I’m not talking about you, now am I? I’m talking about the boy you just saw totally disregard the entire sorting ceremony.”

“He was likely caught up in the moment. I’m sure you were too when you first came here!” Obi-Wan argued. 

“He was literally facing the opposite direction and ogling that second year girl.” She said. “I have a bad feeling about him, Ben.”

It was a little tough to argue with that, but still, he found himself pushing for reasons buried so deep that he hadn’t fully processed them until they sprung from his lips. Honestly, sometimes, she drove him so mad that he wondered how they hadn’t killed each other at this point in their friendship.

“None of the other fifth years are going to want him for that very reason.” He snapped. 

“And you always have to swoop in and save the day, your own self be damned!” She returned.

“And I know what it’s like to be the first year that nobody wanted!” He said.

Silence consumed the room and Obi-Wan felt the blood rush to his ears at the confession and Satine also seemed to back down substantially. He regretted saying it even more so when he saw the depths of sympathy in her gaze. Or was it pity? He was unsure and had been raised to not want either. She dropped her arms from her verbal-battle-ready position and the frown that went with it.

“I feel like he needs me.” He finally said and turned to their professor. “Is that why you wanted me as his mentor?”

“One of the reasons.” Qui-Gon said. “I owe his mother a great deal for letting the boy come to school at all. She fears for his safety.”

“Why? Hogwarts is the safest place for witches and wizards.” Obi-Wan said.

“For now, but prophetic times are coming, my boy. Times that I believe are coming sooner rather than later.”

***

Their fellow fifth years had been just as surprised to hear that Obi-Wan Kenobi, prefect and top prospect for the Head Boy of their year, chose the trouble-maker as his protégé. He had no issue ignoring all of them. 

Satine had chosen a quiet Ravenclaw boy with historically high marks and good behavior in previous schools named Pre Vizsla. The whole process had been rather unceremonious since the first years hadn’t the faintest clue they were chosen for anything just yet. 

He remembered when everyone else in his year had gotten a mentor except him. It was a strange feeling, seeing that connection being built all around him with no one to turn to. It hadn’t ever been explained to him, because he should have been a decent candidate for a promising mentor. However, he had the faintest suspicion it had to do with his family ties.

Still, then Qui-Gon came around and filled that role for him and it had been better afterwards.

Which was one of the many reasons he owed it to Anakin to be the very greatest mentor that ever lived. He wasn’t sure how he would break the news to his parents, but that would be a different problem for a different day. 

As they drifted up the moving staircases, Obi-Wan tried to focus on what it had been like his first ever night at Hogwarts. Despite growing up around magic his entire life, he’d still been totally mystified by the experience of being in Hogwarts. The moving staircases and aspect of answering riddles to enter his dormitory had been frightening, but he’d quickly acclimated to it. 

“I’m sorry about earlier.” Satine said as they’d entered the tower that led to the common room. “It’s not my place to be upset about who you choose as your mentee. I only worry that you take on more than you can chew.”

“Do I do that?” He asked.

“Yes.” She smirked. “Literally every day of your life.”

“I haven’t choked yet.” He pointed out.

“Yet.” She emphasized. “Eventually, it’s all going to build up, you know.”

“What is it you have against Anakin, really?”

She sighed, “Honestly? Reminds me of my sister a bit. So you know that’s never too good for me. But, he’s just a kid at the end of the day, who needs guidance. And really, you’re probably right to choose him in the grand scheme of things. If you can’t set him up for a decent Hogwarts career, who can?”

“Now who’s adding on pressure?”

“Still you!” She smiled. “I know I tend to complain about your tendency to break your neck for others, but it’s actually a quality I quite admire. Maybe you should have been a Hufflepuff.”

He shook his head. “They’re far too laid-back for me.”

She snorted, “That’s right. That stick up your bum would hate it.”

“Do you think that stuff that Qui-Gon was saying earlier… About Anakin and prophecies… What do you think that was about?”

“You know Qui-Gon is my favorite professor too.” She said carefully, which likely meant she was about to say something he wasn’t going to like. He respected the fact that she always said it anyway. “But he’s always been a little… Overly invested in prophecy.”

He couldn’t disagree, even if he wanted to. “Yes, but why would Anakin’s mother be worried if this was merely just a Qui-Gon thing?”

She removed her hair from the tight french braid that held it back all day and massaged her hand through loose waves that now fell around her face. He found himself a little lost in the motions she was making when she finally answered him. 

“Anakin never said what he was doing in Knockturn Alley?”

“Just that he was lost.” He said.

“Hm...” She mused, but didn’t clarify her thought process “Well, we’ve got an interesting year ahead of us.”

“That we do.” He said. “I’m sure it’s nothing anyway.”

***

What wasn’t nothing was the bright smile that split Anakin’s face when he’d been delivered the news that Obi-Wan Kenobi was to be his mentor. Granted, up until five minutes ago, he had no idea he was even going to be assigned such a role, but it was pleasant news all the same. 

“What are the odds that you were assigned to me?” He chirped happily as Obi-Wan escorted him down the moving staircase and towards his History of Magic classroom. 

“Oh, we aren’t assigned,” Obi-Wan bit his tongue. Well, most, were not assigned, barring his own experiences of course. “We choose our pupils. It’s a rite of passage that you volunteer for fourth year to potentially be chosen for fifth year.”

Well, that was also not how it had been when Obi-Wan was a first year. The fifth year class of that year had been unusually small. Specifically, one person short of having enough to pair every fifth year with a first year. Obi-Wan, unfortunately, had been that first year. 

“Well, of course you were chosen.” Anakin rolled his eyes, sufficiently contradicting Obi-Wan’s past misfortune. “You’re like… the perfect wizard. Or you will be. I don’t know much about magic or any of this, but I know that.”

“Thank you, Anakin.” Obi-Wan smiled down at the sandy-haired boy.

“Which I guess begs the question,” Anakin shot him a look that bordered accusatory, “Why’d you choose me?”

“Because Qui-Gon Jinn told me to.”

No, that wasn’t the truth. He might have not initially come up with the idea on his own, but he was certain it was not Qui-Gon’s mere suggestion that motivated Obi-Wan into picking Anakin. There were many factors at play. For one, Obi-Wan wholly believed this was the best learning experience for himself. Also, Anakin needed someone that could handle him. Not to mention, his stomach twisted in knots at the idea of someone else having to be saddled onto a professor- no matter how beloved that professor was- for it was simply not the same.

But none of those answers would be very good to relay to Anakin. 

So instead, Obi-Wan gave the easiest answer he could manage.

“Because I like you, Anakin.” He shrugged, “Simple as that.”

For now, Anakin seemed placated by this. Of course, Obi-Wan liked him. He was a very likable boy and he knew it. 

“For your first lesson-”

“-Wait.” Anakin cringed. “Are you going to give me more homework?”

Obi-Wan laughed, “No, but I can assist you with your homework should you need it. Though I should warn you in advance, I will not be giving you any of the answers.”

“I wasn’t going to ask that,” He whined with slumped shoulders that said otherwise.

“Now, listen, you may assume that where I’m taking you is where your first lessons will begin.”

“Well… Yeah, but that was until you said ‘for your first lesson’ all professor-like.”

Obi-Wan sighed, “One of the remarkable things about being at Hogwarts is that unexposed wizards like yourself, get to be immersed in magic in ways you hadn’t before. At the same time, those that grew up around magic are forced restraint and are still dropped into an otherwise unfamiliar location.”

“Unless they have siblings that went here.” He pointed out.

“Well sure, but that’s not the same as truly attending.” Obi-Wan said. “Take your friend Rex. I know Cody quite well to know that he is extremely fond of tradition. Rex may feel as though he’s got an edge on you for knowing the layout, but Cody has likely turned him upside down with his description of the place.”

Anakin seemed to follow Obi-Wan’s line of sight to see a young Rex hastily running through the halls- sweat coating his brow as he checked every classroom and tried to match it to the incorrect ones he’d been swearing by since he arrived. 

“But who’s Rex’s mentor?” Anakin asked.

“Unfortunately for him…” Obi-Wan sighed, “Krell.”

Pong Krell was a notorious Besalisk bully amongst Gryffindor house who believed he was simply the greatest and strongest just because he rarely let a goal slip past him as keeper of Gryffindor’s Quidditch team. His teamwork skills, of course, were severely lacking, which left him extremely bitter that Cody got captain instead of him. 

“Rex!” Anakin called to his friend and ran over, almost slipping down a moving staircase in the process, but Obi-Wan was able to grab him by the arm before it was too late. 

“As I was saying, Anakin, your first lesson is to be mindful of your surroundings. Hogwarts teaches that lesson merely in how it was designed.”

“We’ve got to help him.” Anakin said, “We can’t let this Krell guy get in the way of Rex getting to class.”

Obi-Wan agreed, but he and Krell were already not on pleasant terms after a run-in last year when Obi-Wan had stuck up for Cody getting promoted to captain. Mentors took their positions very seriously and it was never a great idea how to tell someone else how to teach their apprentice. Of course, he also would not just stand by and let Krell purposely take his grievances towards Cody out on Rex.

“Go with him.” Obi-Wan said. “History of Magic is taught by Professor Yaddle in classroom 4F. Just continue down this hallway and make haste!”

Anakin nodded and turned with two thumbs up, “I’ll look where I’m going too!” 

The prefect would have felt more confident had Anakin not tripped and stumbled down the flight of steps while it was completely still. Seeing as he managed to make the bottom considerably unharmed and with Rex to help him up, Obi-Wan decided he’d let that lesson lie for the meantime. He had Charms to get to. He would deal with Krell later. 

***

Aside from a tumble or two down the stairs, Anakin’s first few days at Hogwarts had otherwise gone fairly smooth. Much like muggle schooling, the first couple of days were preliminary in most cases with professors electing to explain the nature of their classes and the course load vs actually teaching anything.

His very first class at Hogwarts was “History of Magic” taught by Professor Yaddle, who Anakin made the mistake of saying, “I didn’t know Yoda had a sister!” upon seeing her. They were not related according to an embarrassed Rex, but Yaddle simply laughed in good fun at Anakin and went through her syllabus as per the plan. While Anakin usually snoozed through regular history, he was pretty excited to hear about how wizarding wars were executed or about caveman wizards and witches. 

Potions was taught by Professor Sheev Palpatine, who had been the professor that caught his eye during sorting. Up close, he had a much kinder face and reminded Anakin of a friendly grandfather (if he had one of those). Anakin was the only person in the class willing to taste-test the potion that Palpatine had whipped up prior to their arrival. He smiled in amusement and allowed him to come to the front of the room. While Anakin had been hoping to be turned into a frog or a tarantula, it had just been a potion that tasted like the taster’s favorite soda. 

“Brave just as a true Gryffindor should be.” He said with a pat on the shoulder.

Anakin was pleased to find that he had potions back-to-back on Monday’s and Wednesday’s. 

He ended his first day with Defense Against the Dark Arts, which by the time Anakin had managed to make it through his first day, he’d heard all the rumors that circulated the class. He paid attention to Obi-Wan’s advice about keeping his mind open, because Rex was clearly not as unbiased of a source as he’d previously believed. 

The primary rumor was that the class was cursed. Evidently, several teachers met untimely fates before Dooku broke the curse.

The secondary rumor was speculating just how he managed to do that.

Professor Dooku had been the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor for ages and he looked it. Standing tall and broad all dressed in what resembled a dark brown military uniform as well as a maroon cape, Dooku looked down at all of them with his nose tipped up. His beard and hair were both pure white and while he looked to be about Professor Palpatine’s age, did not possess the same friendly demeanor. Instead, he reminded Anakin more of a vampire with his slicked back hair and dark eyes that seemed to lack any color or softness to them. 

He sighed heavily as though their mere presence was a burden.

According to the rumors, Dooku had encountered much dark magic in the past. He’d seen and done things far more dangerous than teach a class full of naive students how to wave their wands back and forth. Still, Dooku wasn’t mean in the slightest- just overly formal and stern, which meant Anakin would be far from his favorite student. 

In fact, Obi-Wan seemed more dead-set on instilling “core values of a Hogwarts student” in Anakin than his professors cared to. He’d be annoyed if he weren’t happy to have someone to ask his millions of questions to. 

He was just relieved he had a kind mentor as opposed to Rex, who was basically becoming more of a servant than anything else to Pong Krell. Why Rex was even doing Krell’s bidding was beyond Anakin. It wasn’t like mentors had the power to fail the first years. Their power was likely limited at requesting discipline from the people that actually called the shots.

Speaking of those that called the shots, Tuesdays and Thursdays meant that Anakin had the unfortunate reality of having back-to-back sessions of Charms, which was taught by none other than Professor Windu, who was Gryffindor’s Head of House. He certainly remembered Anakin from the sorting and was careful to make eye contact with him when he made a comment regarding paying close attention. 

“Turning your gaze can quickly result in bursting into flames or worse.” He said without any humor in his voice. Anakin was unsure if it was possible that he ever laughed before.

He was the only professor to dive straight into the curriculum on the first day of school, much to everyone’s chagrin. He asked rapid-fire questions around the room, of which every single person got horribly wrong. After feeling as though he asked enough questions, he scanned the room with an intensity of someone that might be trying to decide who they should eliminate on sight.

“Did none of you do the reading that was attached to your welcome letter?” He finally asked.

Anakin felt a spark of indignance at the injustice of it all and simply could not help himself from retaliating. “It said we didn’t have to do it!”

For some reason, these sorts of confrontations never went the way Anakin imagined. He always pictured the rest of the class rallying around him in support and carrying him on their shoulders afterwards. After all, he was merely saying what they didn’t have the gaul to speak.

Instead, he felt the sharpness of Rex’s foot meet his ankle under the desk. It was too late, though, because Professor Windu’s unimpressed stare was reserved only for Anakin and it appeared the damage was done. 

“I believe it said optional , Mr. Skywalker.” He said. “Which, by the way, raising your hand in class is not optional.”

“Same thing.” Anakin shrugged, “If you wanted us to read it so badly, you should have made it mandatory.”

Another jab from Rex was urging him to shut his trap, but Anakin couldn’t resist a challenge; particularly if he believed he was being wronged. He understood his rights and did not see the fairness in getting angry over students not doing an optional assignment. 

“If you’re only ever driven by what you’re told to do, not only will you become a mediocre wizard,” He considered Anakin, “But a mediocre adult.”

“But-” Anakin started, but was promptly rejected.

“5 points from Gryffindor.” Professor Windu said, which released a bunch of gasps in the room.

“What?” Anakin asked, completely clueless as to what that was supposed to mean.

“10.” He said firmly.

“Huh?” He returned, though judging by the glares he was receiving from his fellow Gryffindors (including Rex), the tallying number was not a good thing.

“15. Speak out of turn again today and that’s going to be 20 as well as detention, Mr. Skywalker. That’s got to be some kind of record for the first class.” He challenged with arms crossed across his broad chest. 

This time, regardless of his confusion, Anakin stayed silent and Professor Windu seemed satisfied with himself. 

“Let this be a lesson for all of you,” He chastised and turned his attention to the entire classroom, “That simply because something is optional does not mean it is not important or it should be ignored. If you wish to succeed in my class, you will take every opportunity given to you whether it be required or not. I hope you do the same in life.”

“Way to go, Skywalker.” Somebody indistinct murmured from behind him. 

It didn’t help that Charms easily had the potential of being the most interesting subject to date. While they didn’t share any other exchanges over the duration of the double class period, Anakin spent the remainder of the time stewing and staring at his professor intensely, waiting for a chance of redemption from his classmates.

It never came, unfortunately, and everyone avoided Anakin’s gaze as they all walked by him, mumbling about how he’d already ‘set them back’ and that the older students were going to be furious. 

Even Rex seemed miffed, but still chose to walk with him to lunch- albeit silently.

“Oh come on, you didn’t read the pages either! No one did.” Anakin said after the silence was getting to him. To be fair, it was a large castle.

“Yeah, but I didn’t open my big mouth and cause Gryffindor to lose 15 points in one coversation!” Rex snapped.

“Okay, what’s the deal with the points?”

Rex’s anger seemed to dissipate if only by a little at the realization that Anakin truly had no idea what it meant to have points taken away from a house. 

“Come on,” He dragged him by the arm through the corridors with the expertise of someone that was suddenly very knowledgeable on the layout of the castle. This surprised Anakin far more than anything else. Then again, Krell did have him running all over the place for the past day and a half. 

Finally, they came up to a set of four long hourglasses that hung on the wall before an archway. The one on the far left was filled with emeralds and had an ornate snake embedded at the bottom, clearly representing Slytherin. The next contained sapphires and had a raven for Ravenclaw. Next, he presumed, was Gryffindor with its rubies and the lion at the very front. Confusingly, the Hufflepuff hourglass was not filled with a gold or yellow stone, but clear diamonds. He noticed that Slytherin’s had the most gems in the base while the other three seemed considerably even.

“Have you ever noticed how the banners and streamers throughout common areas are all adorned in Slytherin’s colors?” Rex asked.

“I guess.” Anakin shrugged. To be fair, it was a lot easier to wonder about the floating candles and moving staircases than it was about the color of tapestry.

“That’s from this.” He gestured to the hourglasses. “They keep track of the total amount of points accrued throughout the school year. We are each representations for our houses and when we do something a teacher finds particularly impressive, we are given points.”

He raised a hand to gesture to the small trickle of green that sprinkled down into Slytherin’s base, adding to the growing pile that was already starting to build.

“But when we do something bad and we’re punished, points are taken away.” He nodded towards Hufflepuff’s glass, where five diamonds floated upwards and back into the top. “Professors, prefects, and the Head Boy and Girl can administer and remove points from any student. Well, prefects can’t remove them from or give them to each other, but still.”

“So… When I was talking to Windu in class, I’d lost Gryffindor 15 rubies?”

“Points, but yes.” Rex said. “At the end of the year, the house with the most points gets the House Cup. Slytherin has won for the past three years and in case you haven’t noticed, they’re our rivals.”

“Why?” Anakin wrinkled his nose.

“Because a lot of them are crooks!” He sneered. “They’re notorious for being up to no-good. When they say they’re ‘cunning’, what they really mean is sneaky.”

That didn’t seem entirely right to Anakin. Gryffindor’s head of house had been anything but welcoming to him while Slytherin’s was a friendly presence. Still, he enjoyed competition and did feel guilty for taking down the rest of his house with his actions.

“It’s time we brought the cup back to Gryffindor then.” Anakin nodded firmly and Rex seemed to appreciate that.

***

Anakin’s sour mood over losing points for Gryffindor was quickly replaced with uncontrollable excitement at the realization that he would still have the opportunity to fly despite being a first year and unable to try out for Quidditch. This was all because of a scheduled Flying class that was exclusive to first years, which was taught by Professor Seasee Tiin. Professor Tiin was an Iktotchi, which meant he had tan, smooth skin and two large horns that protruded from both sides of his head and wrapped downwards to almost touch his shoulders. 

At first blush, he was physically imposing, but it became apparent that he shared and appreciated Anakin’s enthusiasm for flying. 

“Your broom, like your wand, must be an extension of yourself.” He smiled wryly. “Then and only then, will you be capable of taking flight like our finest Quidditch players.” 

Rex beamed at Anakin in excitement. While Anakin had heard a great deal about Quidditch, he didn’t really understand the logistics of it yet. He tried to pry details from Obi-Wan, who didn’t seem too keen on discussing it despite being on Ravenclaw’s team. He’d been advised by Satine to corner Cody, who was evidently brimming with expert Quidditch knowledge.

“Now,” Professor Tiin continued, “I want you all to call your broom to you as you would a faithful steed. With the confidence of a thousand blazing suns! Command your broom up!”

Anakin had never ridden a horse nor did he know what it meant to have the confidence of the sun, but it all sounded incredibly inspiring coming from Professor Tiin’s booming voice.

He looked down at the broom, which was laid out adjacent to him on the ground. He stuck his hand out in anticipation and without any further instruction, shouted “UP!”

And sure enough, the wooden hilt of the broom smacked his hand firmly. He wrapped his fingers around the wood in shocked amazement. He looked around him to see that nobody else’s broom had fluttered more than a few inches before slumping back down to the grass. Even Rex was impressed and ignored his own struggling broom for the time being. 

“How are you doing that?” Rex asked.

To ensure it wasn’t a fluke, Anakin threw the broom down and summoned it the same way he had before. When it worked again, he let out a surprised laugh. “I dunno, it’s just a feeling!”

“Remind me to remind you to never become a tutor.” Rex rolled his eyes, clearly frustrated that it wasn’t coming as easily to him.

Across the way, Tiplee and her twin sister, Tiplar, struggled exceptionally with managing their brooms. Tiplee in particular (or Anakin believed it was Tiplee as he was constantly getting them confused) could not even get a hold of her broom. Instead of merely lifting it in the air, it seemed the red-faced Mikkian had sent it whirling all around her in a  frenzy. Tiplar, trying to be of some assistance, lept into the air to retrieve the broom (despite Professor Tiin’s hasty protest) and within the blink of an eye, was turned and dropped on her head with a thud.

Anakin and the rest of the class only paused for a nanosecond before rushing to circle the unconscious girl.

“Back it up!” Professor Tiin ordered and patted Tiplee (whose broom finally fell somewhere across the field) on the hand, “She’ll be alright. I just need to get her to the hospital wing. Madame Nema will know just what to do. She’s certainly cured worse before!”

Anakin stared open-mouth as Professor Tiin scooped Tiplar into his arms and motioned for Tiplee to follow behind him.

“Now I’ll be right back, class.” Professor Tiin said, “Keep practicing and do not under any circumstances try and take flight. As you can see, it can be dangerous.”

He wasn’t gone for two minutes before something large and heavy struck Anakin from behind, sending him violently forward and onto the ground. He’d been able to reach out and catch himself with his hands, but winced at the throbbing that vibrated off his skull. Rex and a girl named Mira Bridger helped him to his feet as the other children scattered as it seemed an onslaught of heavy objects were being hurled onto the Quidditch field.

Even through the shrieks from his classmates, he could hear a sniveling laughter that boiled his blood. Despite where Rex was guiding him, he quickly turned around to face their attackers. Sebulba and a few other third years were rolling on their backs, laughing as though they’d told the funniest joke known to man.

“Hey slime-breath!” Anakin shouted across the field. “Get your jollies from throwing balls in first years’ faces, huh?”

Sebulba stopped laughing immediately and quickly got to his feet, another large leather-bound ball in hand, ready to throw with a precision he’d already displayed by pelting Anakin in the back of the head. In his other hand was a little bat, which was likely what he’d used to cause the ball to go so far. 

“Your mouth is going to be the death of you, Skywalker.” He taunted and raised the ball, “Let me help you shut it.”

“Come on, Anakin.” Rex yanked at his friend’s arm.

“Lightning doesn’t strike twice, bud.” Anakin said. “He’s not gonna hit me again.”

“Sebulba was kicked off Slytherin’s Quidditch team last year for causing so many injuries. Yes, he can.” 

“He can try.” At some point, Anakin’s broom had gone into his hand and a level of focus that he’d never known before settled into him. It was as if the ball was hurtling towards him in slow motion and while, yes, it certainly would have hit him had he not already had the presence of thought to avoid that from happening, he whipped his broom up and used the hilt to deflect the ball. It made a cracking noise, splitting it in half and ricocheting back towards its source. In fact, it struck Sebulba’s friend, Ody Mandrell square in the gut. The boy toppled backwards.

Sebulba charged towards him and chucked a larger ball, which Anakin used one piece of the broken broom to deflect with ease, shattering a window to the Great Hall. As Sebulba grew closer, Anakin did the only thing he could think and snatched Rex’s broom, which instead of appearing in his hand, was under him. 

He rose up and up above the peaks of the towers that comprised Hogwarts. While he knew it was ill-advised, he wanted nothing more than to touch the clouds that hung above him. It would have been all too easy to continue onwards. Flying felt even grander than he’d imagined. His head was clear and the universe seemed to finally make sense. He was no longer the outsider at Hogwarts or the freak at home. He was as free as a bird in the sky. 

Still, he knew he had a purpose in this daring escape and was not surprised to find that Sebulba had knocked a spiraling ball towards his position in the sky. Instead of dodging it, he went straight down, dive-bombing the smarmy older boy to see who was truly the chicken amongst them. 

In a final attempt to knock Anakin down, he released a large ball that seemed to move entirely on its own to target Anakin as the enemy. After bobbing and weaving in a way that Anakin would deem expertly , he finally managed to loop around and reflect the ball back onto Sebulba, who fell to the ground and stared up at him in a breathy disdain.

The first years cheered behind Anakin in a way he’d hoped they would the day before, but it was all mute to him as he stared down Sebulba from across the field.

“Now, beat it. Oh wait…” Anakin scratched his head as his feet touched the ground. “I guess you can’t with you not being on the team anymore.”

Rex snorted. “Look, he’s running away!”

“He’s a snake.” Anakin smirked, but when he turned around to face his adoring class, he found only Professor Tiin, who stared at the splintered broom on the ground as well as the boy that still laid on his back from across the field. The man was impossible to read, but was so large and stern that he blocked the sun. For a moment, Anakin wished he was back in Professor Windu’s Charms class. 

“So,” Anakin began nervously, “How many points are we losing here?”

***

It turned out, destroying school property, breaking another student’s ribs, and deliberately disobeying a direct order was, in fact, above the points-system, because Professor Tiin escorted Anakin to Professor Windu’s office.

“Can’t you just cut off my hands?” He asked.

Seasee Tiin sighed and placed a hand on his shoulder. “Professor Windu is your head of house and is therefore the final voice in your punishment.”

“Oh, great.” Anakin leaned on his hand. While having the head of house as a final say might have saved most students, he had his suspicions that this didn’t remotely come into effect when Mace Windu was involved. He knew the guy for all of three days and had already climbed to the bottom of his preference list. 

“I’ll be sure to ask the prefects to be extra diligent in their nightly inspections, Headmaster.” Mace Windu’s clear voice spoke as he escorted the ever-tiny Yoda out of his office. It was odd to see the Headmaster walking about. He was incredibly slow and moved with a cane, but that didn’t alter the oddness of seeing him mobile. 

“Careful, they must be.” He said in that backwards dialect that he and Professor Yaddle favored. 

When the two realized they were not alone, they turned to Professor Tiin and Anakin, who was trying very deliberately to hide in the shadow of the hulking man. This was tough to do when Yoda was beneath his level and looked around him.

“Professor Tiin… Mr. Skywalker.” Yoda smiled at him as they moved past. “Important business, you have with Professor Windu.”

Why the heck was he smiling? Did this little green gremlin enjoy the suffering and expulsion of others? Also, Anakin guessed it wasn’t great that Yoda already knew who he was.

“Why do I have a feeling this isn’t going to be good?” Professor Windu sighed.

“Leave you to it, I will, but consider my suggestions, you must.” Yoda offered before nodding at Anakin again in a friendly manner.

Professor Windu’s office was simple and organized without a single frivolous trinket that may be considered a distraction. He had a large hourglass on his mahogany desk and many stacks of books all around him. Under better circumstances, Anakin might have asked if he’d done any light reading. However, he knew he needed to try to grovel at least a little bit if he wanted to avoid expulsion. 

It was the third day of school. This would be a record even for him.

As Professor Tiin explained the situation in a very matter-of-fact fashion, Anakin realized the Professor had been within eyesight longer than he’d known. He had basically seen most of the affair roll out right down to Anakin’s time in the sky. He took the moment to try and reminisce, because it would likely be his last time. If he wasn’t expelled, surely Professor Windu could sniff out that Anakin enjoyed flying and forbid him from that.

Still, he didn’t say anything. In fact, it seemed more as though the two professors were engaging in a business meeting. Professor Tiin was pointing out the details as though he were delivering a sales pitch while Professor Windu leaned back and listened intently, not even sparing Anakin a glance.

He knew better than to speak up without being asked for his input. After all, there was no reason the rest of Gryffindor house needed to suffer for his actions. Still, a fire burned within him about how ridiculous this was. 

“Is what Professor Tiin says true?” Windu finally turned his gaze to Anakin, which was even more tortuous than when he’d been left out of the conversation.

“Yes, sir.” He said. “But if you expel me, you better get Sebulba too. He’s the one who started it. My head still hurts from where that stupid flying ball got me.”

Professor Tiin frowned. “Expel you? Why would we do that?”

“Yeah, you were there.” Anakin shrugged. “This isn’t exactly my first rodeo. Well, it was my first time ever flying or on a Quidditch field-”

“-You’ve never done that before?” Professor Windu cut him off. “Ever?”

“Never touched a broom before.” Anakin said. “Uh, not for flying anyway. Just for the regular purpose of a broom.”

Professor Windu leaned back in his seat and nodded thoughtfully. “Sebulba will be dealt with, but you did disobey a direct order from a professor when you could have simply gotten help.”

“However, you were defending yourself.” Professor Tiin said. “And quite efficiently, might I add.”

“Really?” Anakin grinned, sensing that he was to live another day at Hogwarts. “So… I’m not in trouble.”

“I didn’t say that.” Professor Windu held out a hand. “One thing is clear about you, Skywalker, and that’s that you don’t have much grasp on patience, self-control, or discipline. You’ve demonstrated a peculiar amount of… power for a wizard of your age and that can be a very dangerous thing if in the wrong hands.”

“Truly.” Professor Tiin agreed. “Flying is all about control and being one with the sky- realizing that you are to be patient with where she takes you. It’s hard work.” 

“So,” Windu toyed with his quill. “In order to prevent any other instances like these from popping up, you’re to learn caution, control, and balance by serving a very specific detention.”

Anakin sighed. He’d gone through many specific detentions and hadn’t retained whatever point they were supposed to make. He braced himself for a world of boredom. Though, much to his confusion, Cody was ushered into the room.

He looked down at Anakin for a moment before looking back to Windu. “What’s this all about, sir?”

“This is about the starting beater position that needed to be filled for Gryffindor’s Quidditch team.” He said as though he was delivering the death sentence.

***

 For as long as Cody had been alive, he’d studied Quidditch to the point of it being like a second form of breathing for him. It all started with mastering a toy broom before even fully grasping the logistics of walking and it only exacerbated with continuous conditioning by his older brothers. Having 3 older brothers and 3 younger brothers, there were enough of them to form a team of their own- though his oldest brother didn’t play anymore. Cody typically doubled up on positions when they all played as a means of fine-tuning his agility and skill. He’d become proficient at every position in the event that a specific position was required when he finally reached his second year and could try out. And like every other student at Hogwarts, he had to earn it.

Well, almost every student at Hogwarts. 

While he occasionally struggled with studying for his assignments, he knew the in’s and out’s of all things Quidditch history. It was the only time he’d excitedly answer a question in class. His father said he had a one track mind, but while that was supposed to be an insult, Cody took it in stride. It just meant he was focused. 

That focus made him the youngest Quidditch captain in Hogwarts history and it made him damn proud.

First years originally were allowed to try out just as any other student when Hogwarts first opened, but after a few deaths and near-deaths due to lack of broom-safety, a flying class had been implemented. While most pure bloods and half bloods knew how to fly a broom before they walked through the doors of Hogwarts, it was only fair to those that didn’t grow up in a magical family. Then, it was the next natural step to include a rule against first years trying out.

Or at least, he’d thought it was a rule until during his first year, Obi-Wan Kenobi managed to get approval to try out for Ravenclaw’s team. At the time, Cody had been furious at this revelation in part of jealousy as well as his assumption that Kenobi had managed to bribe the typically fair Professor Dooku into letting him try out. They hadn’t been friends yet, but afterwards would come to learn that it was Kenobi’s ruthless family that influenced the decision, whether Kenobi wanted it or not- he did not have much of a say. It was also difficult to be disgruntled with him when he so-clearly did not want to be there- try as he might to seem invested at the time. 

Kenobi made the team, as awful as he was at the time, but Ravenclaw’s team was desperate for a benchwarmer if they wanted to qualify for the season. 

But at the very least, he still had to try out like everyone else. Meanwhile, Skywalker wasn’t just some first year who lucked into landing an attempt to try out. He was a first year who’d lucked himself onto the damn team while hopping over every ounce of protocol along the way like they were obstacles he couldn’t be bothered with. 

Professor Windu insisted on private training sessions until Anakin was ready to join the rest of the Gryffindor team. Cody knew they were in need of a starting beater, but was a firm believer in holding try-outs to see what talent rolled in, not picking the very first thing you see. 

Still, the story that Professors Tiin and Windu had told him was nothing short of incredible and he’d be a liar to say he wasn’t curious what the kid could do.

Windu, himself, was present at this practice session, most likely to ensure that both Cody and Anakin show up, and he notices Satine is also sitting in the bleachers- a book on her lap and her quiet mentee beside her.

“Remind me again why I’m participating in Gryffindor’s Quidditch practice?” Kenobi argued as he hovered in front of the hoops on the far end of the field.

“He’s your mentee!” Cody called, “Not my fault you decided to hop party lines.”

Kenobi sighed with his whole body and braced himself. To be fair, playing with a new recruit always had its risks, but his friend always looked like he’d tasted bad medicine when about to play Quidditch. Cody believed it was the flying aspect. Kenobi never liked flying.

“Alright, Skywalker,” He began as he set the heavy trunk in the middle of the field, “What do you know about Quidditch?”

Anakin, who’s sandy blond hair swished every time he moved his head even slightly, tilted his head back to look up at him with confusion. “Uh, it’s a sport?”

Cody sighed through his nose, trying to remain calm. He shot Windu a disapproving look, even if the professor was out of earshot and simply watching from the stands. 

“Yes, right you are about that, but that’s not all it is.” He said with as much severity as he could, though the boy didn’t seem to scare easily, “It’s a test of strategy, coordination, speed, and physical dominance.”

The young boy smirked, “And how exactly does that make it any different from other sports?”

“Think of the good of the team. Think of the good of the team. Think of the good of the team.” Cody mentally reiterated. “Can you die in muggle sports?”

“You can die doing anything.” He argued. 

Okay, Cody had been walking into that one.  

“I just want to fly!” Anakin shrugged.

“And you will.” Cody nodded, “As a beater, you’ll be whizzing all around this field as you try and knock the chasers off their brooms.”

He raised his eyebrows beneath his blond fringe, “Knock them off? What does that do?”

“Speaking as a chaser who’s been knocked on his arse a fair share, a good beater can dominate the essence of the match,” He explained and flipped open the locked trunk to expose the balls that immediately captured Anakin’s attention, “Everybody has an objective in Quidditch. Chasers try to score goals with the Quaffle. Keepers defend the posts to block goals.”

He pointed to the large red ball in the center for emphasis. “Then, there are beaters, like yourself, and you use these little bats to beat the bludgers so that they stop the chasers from being able to score.”

“They look heavy.” Anakin mused, but didn’t sound the least bit fearful of it.

“They feel heavy.” He grimaced. “They’re chained up for a reason.”

“What’s that one?” He asked, pointing to the smallest ball of the bunch.

Cody smiled and picked the walnut-sized ball up and rolled it around in his hand, taking a brief moment to admire how it glittered in the sunlight. “This, my friend, is the golden snitch, and is often the do-or-die for a proper victory. A match can’t end without it being caught.”

Anakin looked about ready to ask another question, but Cody continued on anyway, “The team whose seeker catches the snitch gets an additional 150 points. Each goal by a chaser is worth 10 points.”

Cody waited for the question that every single freshly-bred recruit asked when explaining the logistics of Quidditch. 

“What’s the point in having chasers if the snitch is worth 150 points? That would mean an unlikely 15+ goal lead.”

He reveled in defining his worth as a chaser and a position on the team. It fueled a passionate fire within him while everyone else was busy doubting his importance. At the end of the day, the teamwork built across his team was what grabbed them the win, not some flashy save at the very end. He worked hard to put as many points on the board as possible to prevent flashy mistakes from happening. 

While the rules had never puzzled Cody or most that grew up with the sport, newcomers were always trying to dismantle the technicalities. It was a common source of argument between Satine and Kenobi during the course of the first year. Of course, Cody explained it a whole lot better than Kenobi could, but Satine did not seem convinced.

Anakin didn’t ask though. Instead, he tried to make sense of it all. “So, the idea is to keep chasers from building that points cushion?”

Cody sized the small boy up, momentarily impressed.“Yes… That’s exactly the point.”

“Alright.” He said flippantly, “Can we play?”

“Yes, can we get on with this already?” Kenobi called from across the field, looking incredibly uncomfortable just floating there aimlessly. 

“I’ll let you in on a little secret about me, Skywalker.” Cody smiled. “I’ll never say no to a Quidditch match.”

As they got in the air, Kenobi had insisted on running through simple flying drills in order to ensure that Anakin was ready for the basics. Cody regretfully admitted that this was likely for the best- no matter how terribly he was itching to see what Skywalker was made of. 

“We have to teach him not to simply fall off of his broom.” Kenobi said as he hovered closer.

“Sure, but who’s going to teach you?” Cody retorted.

“That happened once and it was because I had a headache!”

“From the glasses your parents swindled you into.” He said.

“ Anyway , Anakin,” Kenobi began, “While flying might seem thrilling and exciting, it’s important to understand like most responsibilities, there are risks. The biggest one, being, that you fall off your broom to the ground down below.”

“That’s how we lose most people.” Cody mused with that hint of gravity that was always used to frighten the newbies. 

“The point is,” Kenobi cut in, not as interested in frightening the boy, “You will fall and you could get hurt, but if you play safe and smart, it doesn’t have to be lethal.” 

Anakin’s eyes drifted from where they hovered all the way to the grassy plain beneath them. Where most would have justifiable fear in their eyes at the idea of that, Anakin only had steadfast determination. It didn’t even appear as determination not to fall, but a determination to get up afterwards. 

A true Gryffindor.

“My position is like really intense dodgeball.” He reasoned, but neither Cody or Kenobi knew what the bloody hell that was, but could only assume it was a game played in the muggle world.

“Sure,” He said, “Just try to do the knocking and not be knocked.”

“Sage words,” Kenobi rolled his eyes, “We have an exceptional hospital wing at Hogwarts, Anakin, that can heal just about any injury to the fullest, but seeing as they’ve yet to find the cure for death, we are going to run through falling drills so as to prevent that ghastly situation.”

“Oh, come on!” Anakin whined, “I just got in the air! I don’t want to spend my whole day practicing falling off of it. Can’t we run back to that later?”

Professor Windu shifted in his seat in the stands, disapproval radiating right off of him even from where they sat in the air. Despite his previous reservations, Cody couldn’t help but sympathize for the boy. After all, he, too, had been eager to play when he first started. 

“Nothing, and I repeat, nothing you learn should ever be without the foundation of caution.” Kenobi said gravely and his eyes flickered to Cody briefly, try as he might not to make that obvious. Something tightened inside Cody as he cleared his throat and looked away.

“We’ll do the falling drills.” He said, “Though your determination to start swinging bodes well for you.” 

***

It was no secret that Obi-Wan didn’t care much for Quidditch. He didn’t mind the sport in total. In fact, he guessed watching it could be quite exciting, if not a little repetitive. However, playing Quidditch was an entirely different story. For one thing, while proficient in flying, it was far from his favorite thing. The unpredictability of being suspended above the ground with little support, alone, was not his idea of fun. It was even more unnerving when others were soaring around him with little care or concern for where they were going so long as it promised a decent Quidditch play.

However, most of his distaste for the sport derived from how important it was that he be good at it. While Cody might have had older brothers who played for Hogwarts, it was never a precedent for him to do the same thing as it had been for Obi-Wan. Obi-Wan came from a long history of champions on both his mother and father’s side and he certainly did not want to be the person who broke that impressive streak. 

He didn’t want to be the kind of mentor that pushed his own fears on his mentee, but judging by how brashly Anakin attempted everything else, it was justifiable that he be the wet blanket, so to speak.

He glanced over where Satine sat in the empty audience. She was busy tutoring her own protégé, Viz, in transfiguration, but spared him a small smile and wave. Rex had also joined the two of them, though his eyes were glued on the sky in a wistful gaze. The boy clearly wanted to join them. 

Satine was likely the only other person in Hogwarts with a distaste for Quidditch, though her reasoning was that it was simply too violent to ever enjoy. While Cody was always cheeky about her attending every match anyway , Obi-Wan believed she just didn’t want to be left out. It did take up most of Obi-Wan’s conversations with Cody during the season, so he could understand that. It’d taken Obi-Wan a long time to admit that Quidditch was not his favorite past time, but obviously, his first choice in discussing this had been with Satine. 

However, he reasoned, whatever her reasons were for attending all of Ravenclaw’s matches, if she could bear them and cheer for him along the way, he could certainly try to suck it up and play. 

He waved back with a flutter of his fingers and turned back to Cody and Anakin, who were busy trust-falling at a safe height as instructed. It was a skill Obi-Wan wished someone had taught him when he first started, but as he was viewed as the kid that was forced onto the team and would never see a match anyway, it was never enforced.

“Make sure you curl your neck in.” Cody said, “And keep your limbs bent.”

“And if you really feel as though it’s going to be a harsh tumble, stick an arm out.” Obi-Wan said as he prepared himself to demonstrate again. “It’s better to break an arm than it is your neck or head. Much easier to heal too.”

None of this seemed to shake Anakin in the slightest, which gave Obi-Wan some pause. Even Cody seemed jostled by the idea of his first big crash in the beginning. Anakin, while humoring them and performing the falling practices, seemed bored out of his mind.

“Okay, I think we’ve had enough of that, wouldn’t you say, mate?” Cody asked and whether he was asking for Anakin or for himself, was unclear, because both boys looked at him hopefully. Obi-Wan often wondered where it was written that he always be the sensible one.

“Do you feel as though it’s second nature?” Obi-Wan asked.

Anakin groaned, “Yeah, in fact I might just do a triple backflip and land on my feet at this rate.”

Cody snorted and Obi-Wan shot him a glare before returning to Anakin, “I do hope you’re taking this seriously, Anakin.”

“I’m not even sure what to take seriously.” He pointed out, “I’ve never played!”

“Very well. We’ll play.” Obi-Wan said cautiously, “And while it’s perfectly fine to have fun, please do not allow that fun to get in the way of protecting yourself.”

Cody shook his head. “Okay, that’s enough of mentor- mode. I’m in captain mode and I say, have as much fun as you’d like. Be smart, like Kenobi said, but be mean .”

He sighed, “I give up.”

Cody distributed a bat to Anakin and unleashed the quaffle and bludgers as Obi-Wan prepared himself in front of the goal again.

“Alright, so I’m going to try and score a goal on Kenobi.” Cody explained. “Your main objective is to beat the living snot out of me so I don’t get that opportunity.”

“So I just clobber you with this?” Anakin asked as he waved the little bat around.

“No, you use that to beat the bludger to then hit me.”

“Cool!” He beamed, “This is like dodgeball… And baseball… and football…”

While he didn’t typically have to make much contact with the bludger, Obi-Wan had seen many players spit teeth because of the punch it packed, and usually wanted no parts. However, he was pleased to see that he merely seemed to exist as a figure for Cody to practice on. He knew his friend would manage to find a way for his own practice here somewhere. 

The bludger spun around as Cody grasped the quaffle in his hands, looking like a man that had reunited with his true love for the first time in ages, and whipped upwards and then whirling down in a fake out maneuver that was likely to demonstrate to Anakin some of the tactics chasers might try.

“Not going easy on him, huh?” Obi-Wan called, recognizing this diversion immediately.

“If he can beat me, he can beat anyone.” Cody said confidently.

Cody was a skilled chaser. He was skilled at every position, actually. He’d say it came naturally if he didn’t understand how hard his friend worked. It was a little natural, of course, because Obi-Wan had to work just as hard to be mediocre. 

He noticed from his peripherals that Satine had looked up from her book again, because no one was immune to watching Cody swerve through the field as if he owned the place. He was like a ray of red light, disappearing into a blur before appearing in full with a disarming confidence. 

However, as he’d managed to get past Anakin and over to the post, a speech on his lips about what Anakin needed to improve, the words never came. Instead, the sound of the bludger ricocheting against Cody’s face filled the air in a matter of nanoseconds. Then, everything seemed to slow down in that incredible sobering way a match could turn from fun to fatal. 

Cody had dropped the quaffle and wobbled back and forth for a moment with a dumbfounded look on his face. Anakin was frozen in motion with the bat still raised above his head. Satine and Rex had leapt to their feet while Viz peered up at them in confusion and Mace Windu was approaching the field. Obi-Wan moved over to Cody in case he was about to deadweight fall, but the chaser steadied himself and a slow, bloody smile gave way to his face.

“Now that ,” He spit some blood out. “Is mean Quidditch.” 

Obi-Wan breathed a sigh of relief and Cody shot him an accusatory look, “Quit worrying, would ya? I’ve taken far worse than that before.”

He turned to Anakin in awe, “Anakin, that was-”

“-A good start.” Cody beamed, which Anakin also looked immensely relieved that Cody was both safe and not the least bit mad. “There’ll be more people on the field, which will make that shot near-impossible, but the rapidity of your reflexes is something I haven’t seen in just anyone at this stage. Next, we can-”

“-Make a quick visit to the hospital wing.” Professor Windu’s deep voice cut in. 

Now Cody looked like he was about to start whining, but one look at Professor Windu’s stern face and the craziest of men wouldn’t think to push the issue.

“As pleased as I am that Skywalker is working out, we do not need our captain bleeding out before the season even starts.” He said curtly and nodded to Obi-Wan in acknowledgement. “Something tells me some of you would rather call it for the day, anyway.”

Anakin didn’t protest this time, but stared in wonder at the bat in his hand before helping Obi-Wan clean up the equipment. 

“I’m not even sure how I did it, Obi-Wan.” He said, voice teetering on the edge of excitement and apprehension. 

“Everybody has natural gifts, Anakin.” Obi-Wan smiled. “It seems this will be yours. Just be careful not to use this as an excuse not to practice.”

He nodded. “I can’t wait to meet the whole team and get a real feel for what it’s like.”

“It’s…” He tried to think of neutral descriptors, “Indescribable.”

***

He was close… So very close… It was downright intoxicatingly just how near the fulfillment of the prophecy approached. He’d waited so very long. Cast to the shadows and forced to display a persona that reflected the hypocrisy and delusion of this mixed world. And yet, he was dedicated to the goals of his forefathers and their ancestors before. Many stronger than he had failed and met a gruesome end, but that didn’t mean their message was incorrect. Even he had made the mistake of acting too quick once. However, he’d never do such a thing ever again. 

While he never preached patience in his teachings, because when unleashing one’s power, it was all or nothing if it were to mean anything, but planning required tactical foresight and proper execution. The preservation of his people depended on his inevitable rise to power and while taxing, would be well worth the price of playing the part.

Sidious faced himself in the mirror, glowing orange eyes gazing back at him through the shroud of black robes. His truest self would one day be known to every cursed wizard and witch that drew him away and would heed the wrath of the rising Sith. At last, his plans could truly start to take shape.

The nightmares and dreams that haunted both he and his current apprentice were a surefire sign that he was here and as the term had started, this had all been but confirmed when Sidious looked at the boy for the first time, sensing the power that emanated off him in a way his master had taught him long ago. 

He was exactly as he should be… Isolated from any true wizard knowledge, making him beyond impressionable. He was filled to the brim with untapped potential and passion that would be molded into skills greater than any wizard had ever seen. He was an outcast, which his foolish mother believed would be for his protection. When in reality, it would be his undoing: proof that magical children did not belong amongst the peasants. While plagued with innocent kindness that would require quashing, the boy was otherwise the ideal student to be groomed into exactly what Sidious needed of him. 

His recent dream foretold of it. 

Balance.  

“After all of this time… He’s finally here. And soon… He will be mine.”  

*** 

Dear Mum,

Sorry for taking so long to write. I know I promised I’d write to you every week, but it’s been crazy busy here since I last spoke to you! I’m way busier than I’ve ever been at my old schools, which you’ll be happy to know includes doing my homework on time. Most of it is pretty interesting and way more useful than stupid stuff like math and science. I know you were worried about me going here, but everything is good. I’m having the time of my life!

I joined the Quidditch team. Actually, I was ASKED to join. Most people have to try-out and first years aren’t even allowed to do that, which you probably remember. My flying professor was the one who recommended me for it and Professor Windu actually went for it (he’s not a big fan of me). Not sure why you never told me about Quidditch, because It. Is. AWESOME!!!! I’m a beater, so I’m right in the thick of the action and am getting pretty good. My captain, Cody, has been practicing with me just about every day. My mentor, Obi-Wan, is there too, though I suspect he’s not the biggest fan of the arrangement. My favorite part of it all is flying. The wind through my hair, soaring above the ground, total and absolute control… It’s so freeing. My first match is in November and we’re against Slytherin. You were a Gryffindor too so you get why THAT’s a big deal.

The team was definitely a little confused why they recruited some scrawny first year, but like always, I showed them what I was made of when Cody and I ran through what we’d been practicing. Now, all the guys and girls are pretty cool with me… Well, except this guy, Krell. Pardon my language, but he’s a real knob-knocker. I mentioned in my last letter that he’s my friend, Rex’s, mentor. Well, Krell’s got beef with just about every first year, it seems. Not sure who dropped him on his head as a kid, but I don’t need to listen to him like Rex does and have no problem sticking some puking pasties in his energy drinks. 

You didn’t hear that from me, though.

Anywho, school is going surprisingly well too. Like, I’m actually a professor’s class-favorite. Not sure how it happened, but Professor Palpatine has really taken a liking to me. It’s not that I’m top notch at potions either. There are students that get better marks, but he said I remind him a great deal of himself and says my level of ambition rivals that of a Slytherin. I dunno about all that, but his class is fun! Somebody usually explodes at some point in a given class period, but unlike Professor Windu, who goes on looooooooooong lectures about responsibility or Obi-Wan, who drawls on about what to do differently next time, Professor Palpatine makes a funny joke and moves along. 

I’m still not so sure about this Professor Dooku, though. He’s in good with Qui-Gon, who’s the only professor in school who’s cool with students calling him by his first name. Rumor has it, somebody sent a barrel of gin to his office one time and so ever since then he just prefers ‘Qui-Gon’. Dooku makes Windu seem relaxed in nature. He’s pretty stiff, but isn’t out to get me like Windu seems to be. I don’t think he’s ever smiled before, is all.

Headmaster Yoda is pretty cool, I guess. He isn’t around much, which is a bit unusual according to Obi-Wan, who says he used to be a lot more hands on, but rumors have been circling about some bad stuff happening outside of Hogwarts. Not bad enough to make the papers, which have MOVING PICTURES by the way. 

I’m proud to say I’ve finally got this school down from top to bottom in terms of navigation. I got lost a lot in the beginning, but Professor Palpatine gifted me with a map of the place that shows little footsteps as to where everyone is and everything. I dunno how he came to it, but it’s been real useful in figuring out how to work the moving stairs. Everything in the wizard world just seems cooler than back at home, ya know? Yeah, I wish they had TV, but I’m way too caught up with Quidditch and school and hanging out with friends to think much of Saturday morning cartoons. 

Still, I miss you like crazy. Obi-Wan is a great mentor and definitely looks out for me, but it’s not the same as having you around. Sure, someone else is always doing my laundry (not sure how or who they are), but it still doesn’t wind up smelling as fresh as when you do it. Even more than that, I really miss your voice. I wish you didn’t dislike magic for reasons you won’t share with me, because I think it’s really cool.

I’m actually pretty good at it too, which I hope you don’t mind. I’d like to move to a neighborhood more centric on wizarding someday. I think we would both fit in a great deal better there. Plus, I could hang out with my friends easier then. 

Anyway, I can’t believe I’ve been here for a full month already. I’ve got a pretty big Charms paper to write for next week. I’ve been pushing it off long enough and Obi-Wan will have my head if I don’t get the draft to him tomorrow. I swear, if it weren’t for him, I’d be far too distracted to get much of anything done. 

Love you, mum! I wish they had phones here so we could actually speak. I hope the owl I’m borrowing from the school, Artoo, gets this to you safely. If so, please give him a treat on me.

Love,

Anakin 

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