But there was always things he could do to wake himself up - he could go back up to the Ravenclaw tower and do fifty chin ups, or something. He wouldn't be alive for HoM, but he'd be awake. Or maybe he could go for an early morning flight - there wasn't really time, though...

Raphael looked around for the others on the team. Maybe he could organise to go and practice (he couldn't get used to calling it training, not yet) with a few others, Kat maybe, or Jacob, and certainly Sarah if she wasn't busy. Saying that, Raphael thought, where is Jacob? He started to look around.

Jacob was in fact a few seats down and across the table from Raphael. He had just finished conversing with an older boy who had a Prefect badge gleaming on his chest.

Catching the other boy's eye, he inclined his head slightly. Something almost like a smile flit across his face. "Hello, Raphael," He said gravely, "Are you ready for History of Magic?"

Raphael's eyes widened at this, and an exclamation of surprise hit him. "History of Magic! Damn!"

But creaking joints were pushed into hyperdrive as Raphael, motioning for Jacob to follow, asked his shoulders just to give enough to get him to his next lesson.

Jacob paused briefly, surprised at the swearing and not looking as though he was pleased with it. However, the urgency of the situation took his mind away from this as he too realised that they were late.

He grabbed the pile of books that lay in front of him, and stood hastily. He easily caught up with Raphael, as his long legs enabled him to travel swiftly. He said nothing, only checked himself so that he was walking at the same pace as the other Ravenclaw.

**********

Mahou had gone to the common room and had gathered her things as well as her wits. Wandering the halls at present, the half-elf sported a satchel at her side not unlike those you would read about in a fantasy-adventure novel. It was leather with a flap over the top that clasped shut near the middle of the sack.

Her soft slippers barely made a sound as she wandered the halls of Hogwarts, Blackfoot trailing at her side. Sometimes, she wished that Blackfoot would really talk to her.. like the spirits of the forests and streams did. That would happen later.. perhaps at Lughnasadh.

Stopping at a window, Mahou sighed as she leaned against it, resting her chin in her hands. She wished that she could just go home...

Uiliam had already received the letter, having been in Hogsmeade at the time of the initial writing.

Dearest Headmaster Dumbledore,

Uiliam Sparkstone writes again! I am very thrilled at the thought of visiting the school on such short notice. But do not be alarmed that I may take Mahou away from her fellow students. I have no such intention of doing so.

Learning the ways of humans seems so fascinating in such a way that cannot be described. I have been interesting in learning their ways for a while now, and have just now gotten permission. It is difficult waiting until you pass the one-hundred mark.

The Elders suggest that I take notes to put in our records. Would that be alright, as well? You could review them at the end of my stay if you wish.

Once again, I thank you. And since I am in Hogsmeade as of earlier, I shall be there shortly! I hope you do not mind that I bring a familiar with me? My hawk does not like to be left alone. It is the same merlin that will bring this letter. His name is Greystone.

Until.

Uiliam Sparkstone

Mahou continued to stand, lost in making shapes in the clouds, her eyes far away.. full of dreams..

Zidane Summers walked down the corridor and saw the girl standing by the window. With her unusual ears (he would bet his last stash of Reese's Pieces she had elven heritage) and red hair more or less similar in bright red colour to his, she wasn't one that would be easily overlooked.

She looked sad, wistful. He knew the feeling all too well. It had been with him all through his life.Through the countless medical facilities, the months of observed isolation, the long lonesome days in the big California house.

"Good morning," he said cheerfully, "Mahou, isn't it? We were both in the Seeker trials. I'm Zidane Summers. I'm the one who, uh, well, toasted my broom."

He held out a hand and waited for her reply.

Mahou had not heard the footsteps; her attention had been on the clouds in the sky. Upon the talking, Mahou flicked her eyes toward Zidane, a small smile coming to her face.

"Aye, I remember ye," she told him, taking his hand. Her grip resembled a butterfly alighting on a rosebud. "I be Mahou Amberstone. I didna make Seeker.. I made Chaser on the A team." She looked at his hair and her smile widened. Putting some of her own red hair behind a pointed ear, the Irish girl put her weight on one leg, her hands clasped before her.

"Where ye from, Zidane?" she asked. "I be from Blackwater, Ireland. Tis in th' southeast." Tugging on her left ear, the girl half-smiled again.

Zidane coloured slightly at the sweet way she smiled at him. He had never been around girls much throughout his life so it was always an experience trying to deal with them in this school.

"Uh..." What was her question again? Oh. Right. "I'm from the U.S. of A. California. Beaches, volleyball, surfing, the L.A. Lakers, and, well, Hollywood."

"By the way, congratulations on making it to Team A. From what I heard, the line-ups are dead good." He reached into his pockets and pulled out a handful of Muggle chocolate nuggets, each tiny one wrapped in silver foil. Zidane would have preferred his candy chilled, but there were no refrigerators in Hogwarts.

He grinned and held the chocolates out to her. "Want some? They're Muggle chocolates, from home. They always make me feel better."

He wanted to ask if she was feeling okay, but hesitated. He hoped she would just blurt it out or something. Sometimes he did that, though nobody would hear him.

The very thought was darned depressing.

"I gave Reese's Pieces to Professor Flitwick when I got here," he said in an attempt to be more cheerful.

"I'll have you taste them some time, too. They're so peanut-y and crunchy. I'm considering putting them up for auction at Ravenclaw."

Mahou giggled, covering her mouth with a hand. She liked this boy very much. He was very nice.. especially for an American.

Taking one of the chocolates, Mahou unwrapped it and popped it into her mouth. She smiled and swallowed the candy. "Tha' was very good, Zidane," she said with a smile. "There be a sort o' sweet in th' Elfin territory tha' I think ye would like. It tastes like a honeysuckle, but sweeter. Sorta like a summer rain." Mahou picked up her bag and walked over to stand beside Zidane, her demeanour more cheerful now than it had been.

"I believe I may still ha'e some o' th' sweets in th' Gryffindor dorm, but we ha'e class in a few minutes, so I donnae ha'e th' time." The half-elf smiled again, her innate magick making the room seem brighter, only not really making it so. "I'm sure tha' Lord Flitwick loved th' chocolate," she assured him, Blackfoot piping in a reply.

Looking down at the haughty fox, Mahou laughed outright. "I forgot.. this be Blackfoot. She's.. a friend. I cannae call her a familiar b'cause.. she hasna told me she wishes ta be yet." The small fox sat down and looked proud, her rusty fur gleaming in the sun. Mahou bent down and scratched her under her chin.

"I miss my home," she said suddenly, watching the light play in the fox's fur. Her expression became sombre again as she talked, her eyes misting over like so much foggy memories. "There were animals always ta play with.. deer an' their young.. spirits of th' air an' water.. earth an' fire. Birds ta sing with." She let her hand slow in its path in Blackfoot's fur, her tone sounding more and more like a wind on a moor.

"Th' elves were always so kind," she mused, kneeling on the floor before her fox. "They taught me th' innate magick of their kind, ye see.. they always treated me like I was almost equal wi' them. I be only half elf, ye see, so I'll nae be as good as them. I could sing better than most o' the full elfin maidens. But th' fact that I would live only half o' wha' they do.. it always o'ershadowed me."

She stood and faced Zidane, tears slipping down her face, though she retained her smile. "I miss home, Zidane. Th' streams.. th' forest." She took a step forward, her hands trembling on her bag as she held it in front of her. "Nothing here is like at home. Th' forest hates e'erything.. I cannae go there.. there be nothin' here fer me, Zidane." She drooped her head, wiping her eyes. Stepping another two steps forward, Mahou let her forehead rest on Zidane's shoulder as she cried.

After all this time at Hogwarts.. Mahou Amberstone finally cried about what she wished to most. She missed her home..

Zidane had listened to Mahou talk about her beautiful home. So it was true. She was an elf, or a half-elf. No wonder she looked like that. And no wonder she glowed like a firefly when she smiled.

He liked thinking of her that way. It was something he could relate to.

But he had not expected her tears. The tears came so easily, so sincerely from her. There were no walls, no pretences. Her anguish when she said she missed her home tore through his heart. Zidane Summers never really had a home, and it hurt him to think that something that beautiful was taken away from this girl. It was not fair. Not fair at all.

He was taken aback to see her sobbing against his shoulder. Her tears were warm on his skin as they soaked through his robes. He had no experience dealing with this, but he reacted with certainty.

Zidane's left arm rested on her back, supporting Mahou as she sobbed. It was like a transfer of strength, from him to her. How many times in the past had he wanted to cry like this, and how many times had no one seen him actually do so?

His right hand reached into his pockets for a handkerchief. He came up with one in blue and white stripes, designer and expensive, one of the many his mother had carefully made him take to Hogwarts. Nothing but the best for her son, even if he was a freak.

He pressed the handkerchief into her hand and said gently, "Here you go."

"If you wanna talk about it...I'm here," he continued with more hesitation. "We may not know each other very well, but for whatever it's worth, you got me."

He smiled down at her hair. "And, besides, we redheads should stick together."

Mahou stepped back, taking the hanky, and wiped her eyes. She giggled.

Looking up, the red-haired half-elf smiled brilliantly at the boy across from her, clutching the hanky in her left hand. "Thank ye, Zidane," she said. Walking over to him, she linked her arm with his, swinging him around to face the direction of the classroom. "Ye mind if I call ye Zid, or e'en Ziddy?" She giggled and jabbed him in the side. "I think it be kind of cute." As she talked, she started walking down the hallway, lugging him along with her.

All of a sudden, Mahou laughed and let go of his arm, jogging a few yards in front of the (most likely) confused boy. "Yer so slow, Ziddy! C'mon!" She laughed and ran back to him, grabbing his arm with both her hands, the hanky still clutched in her left.

Zidane allowed himself to be tugged down the hallway. It was like being swept away by a giggling whirlwind. The girl was pretty, nice and sweet but just a tiny bit crazy. One minute she was crying, the next she was laughing.

She was like a breath of fresh air. He liked the idea very much.

//Zid? Ziddy?// Both sounded ridiculously funny. The names sounded like they belonged to Teletubbies. He found himself grinning broadly.

"Uh, you can call me whatever you want to," he blurted out as Mahou grabbed his arm with both hands and pulled some more. "Whoah."

After taking several breathless running steps to keep up with her pace, he gathered enough air to say, "If you keep this up, Mahou, you're gonna kill me. Not that I mind. It's a fun way to die. I can see the headlines now: Laughing girl drags boy down Hogwarts corridor to his death."

At that very moment, something happened to Zidane Summers, veteran lab rat and son of West Coast aristocrats, a well-hidden "freak case" for majority of his fourteen years. An invisible switch snapped on, one that made him do something he never remembered himself ever doing.

He laughed.

Mahou laughed at the headline, she laughed at his startled demeanour as she talked. And she grinned broadly at the sound of him laughing. She liked Zidane, she decided. This boy was a nice change from the angst-ridden other folks that ghosted the halls of Hogwarts. Though, in the back of her mind, she still couldn't help but remember that he was human. Living with elves her whole life, she had developed a sense of superiority towards humans. She was part elf, after all.

But strolling in the hallway next to Zidane, Mahou felt a part of her slip away.. the superior feeling nearly vanished, and her haughty way towards humans subsided for a brief moment. Mahou, for just a split second, embraced her human half. Mentally shaking her head, Mahou chided herself for thinking such ludicrous thoughts. Her lineage was something to be proud of. And be proud she would.

Linking arms with Zidane again, Mahou talked in her Irish accent.

"So, Zid," she began, "wha' did ye do b'fore Hogwarts? I went to Cerrydwin's School fer Gifted Girls. It be strange going ta school wi' boys, though.. An' tha's no' a bad thing." She giggled and winked at Zidane, Blackfoot rolling her eyes.

"If I could, I'd take ye ta meet th' Elves," she told him. She couldn't believe her ears.. was she actually telling this human that she would introduce him to the elves? Was she insane? Yes. She was. "Yer name.. Zidane.. wha' does it mean? Me name, Mahou, means magic in Japanese. I donnae ken why me parents named me tha'.. it be strange."

Laughing, she tugged lightly on his arm, the hanky still clutched in her fist. Looking at her hand, Mahou went to hand it back. "Here's yer hanky. Thank ye fer lettin' me use it." She gave him a special smile.. one that hardly anyone had seen before. She seemed to glow like the full moon on a cloudless night.. like a troop of faeries flitting on a still pond.. like a happy elf in a place she could only dream of..

Zidane stiffened at first when Mahou linked arms with him. He wasn't used to this kind of contact with other people, much less girls. He had always been treated with a very respectful distance by everybody around him, afraid he might toast them if they so much as got into direct contact with him.

As he listened to her talk, he began to relax, walking down the corridor now at a less "fatal" pace. Her accent was musical and he thought she was most likely a good singer or something.

Suddenly, he felt very warm all over. "My name's a modern way of writing-or saying-the French 'Jitan," he explained in reply to her question. "My mother once said it means wanderer, traveller or something close to it. It's kind of a weird name to have, especially when you live in California. Boys there have macho sportsmanly names like Michael, Bruce, Mark, etcetera. If I'm not mistaken, even Professor McGonagall, y'know during the Sorting, even asked if the students knew a 'Mister or Miss Summers.'" He grinned at the memory of his grand entrance.

But the thought of schooling before Hogwarts made him more sombre. "I...I have never been to a formal school before this," he admitted, in a much softer voice, as if he was saying a deep-rooted feeling. He did not know that the hand of the arm Mahou was holding had clenched into a tight, pale fist.

"I've had plenty of private tutors, though. Really good ones. Plus there were correspondence courses that I took, specially made for, uh, 'gifted children.' We...I...was, well, moved around a bit."

He swallowed before continuing, trying to stem the tightness in his chest. "There are some things I could do with fire," he said after pausing like a diver ready to plunge into deep water. "Ever since I was three. Everybody thought it was some kind of physical abnormality, like accelerated metabolism, but there was nothing wrong with me. They poked and prodded for ten years, Mahou. It was not...nice."

"That's why they didn't let me go to school like everybody else. They were afraid I was gonna toast everybody first chance I got." He shuddered, even if the morning sun streaming through the windows was warm on his skin. "And then we met Professor Flitwick last summer. He knew right way that I was not abnormal. This is magic he's got, he said, we can teach him to use it well at Hogwarts. At first my parents didn't believe him, but in the end they let me go. The...Muggles could not do anything about me so it was high time they sought other...remedies."

"So here I am," he finished, giving her the best grin he could muster. "Badly bruised by a certain red-haired Irish honey but thankfully still breathing."

Impulsively, he reached for her hand holding his handkerchief and squeezed it in thanks and reassurance. "By the way, you can keep the hanky. Your memento if ever you succeed in dragging me to death one of these days."

Mahou listened to the boy with silence, her strange ears taking in every word; her heart taking in every feeling his words did not say.

When he was done, Mahou looked up (i guess) at him, her slanted eyes lime-green and apologetic. "I be sorry ta make ye remember, Zid," she told him, her tone sombre. She looked down at the floor as they walked. "When I went ta Cerrydwin's.. no one there liked me. They called me a freak an' 'Santa's Little Helper'."

She spat those words like so much sweet acid. "They would prod me, pull me ears, poke me, steal me stuff ta see if it had anythin' ta do wi' elves. They would tear me clothes ta see if Elfin magick had anythin' ta do wi' mendin' clothes.. But th' worst trick they played was.. when they killed my other familiar. B'fore I got Blackfoot."

She plunged on before she lost her nerve, he own willowy frame shivering a bit. She stopped walking, hardly able to go on at the memory of her lost friend. "Me an' th' wolf had exchanged breath," she explained, "thus makin' her me own real familiar. We saw, sometimes, wha' each other saw.. smelled wha' each other smelled.. an' when she.. when she died.. I felt tha', too."

Her knees almost buckled, recalling the sudden feeling of intense pain.. and then nothingness. "I.. I was in th' middle o' class when I suddenly fell to th' floor, screaming in Elfin, holding me head in me hands. Tears were spilling down me face, I ken it, an' people were still snickerin' an' pointin' at me."

She gripped his arm with both her hands, and they were shaking like a leaf in a chill autumn wind.. like the one outside. "They.. they had somehow.. they were tryin' ta play a joke ta make Stormbringer run. But I kenned her.. she wouldna run. They knocked o'er a tree wi' some kids higher up in years. All o' them pooled their magic an' felled th' tree.. right on Stormbringer. Her upper torso an' head were smashed.. I could barely recognise her. In th' class.. I had stopped movin'."

She clung to Zidane. "E'en a bit o' blood dripped from me ears. Tears were still tricklin' down me face, though. Th' teacher kenned wha' had happened. An' tha' was th' last straw. Da took me out o' the school an' sent me here, where Ma hoped th' kids would be more acceptin', since they didna live around elves so much."

After finishing the story, Mahou looked up at Zidane again, a strange sort of ghostly smile on her lips. The smile of one that had died. "So, ye an' I ha'e somethin' in common, Ziddy," she said, deep sorrow choking her voice. "We were both ridiculed.. moved around.. but.. unless ye are nae tellin' me.. ye havena died." She tried to keep her smile as the tears started again. "Ye.. havena died.."

Mahou suddenly lost it and sunk to her knees, clutching the hanky to her face, sobbing almost violently. She relived the pain.. the emptiness.. that had happened when Stormbringer had been crushed. She relived the anguish of losing something so close.. it was a part of you. Mahou Amberstone died a little more.

If he was most proficient in something, Zidane Summers would boast that he could always stop his tears when he was facing others. Even when he was still a child, he would //never// cry in front of the doctors even if their pokings and proddings hurt worse than hell.

This ability, however, did not make him any less attuned to pain. His anger he kept all bottled up inside. It was all in the past, anyway, he would rationalize. No use bringing it back.

So when Mahou succumbed to the worst possible crying spell he could imagine someone ever succumbing to, he did not draw back in surprise. If he felt one thing, it was a strange kinship with this elven girl.

Somehow, Zidane felt she was crying for him, too. For a child who never learned how it was really like to be a child. For the boy who was imprisoned within the freaky body.

Had he been alone this time, he would have shed tears, too. Too much darned pain, too much memory. That was the consequence of hiding it all from others-the feelings would just burst forth at the most inopportune times.

But this time, he needed to be strong. Not for himself, but this time for her. For this girl with whom he had so much in common.

He tossed his schoolbag aside and knelt so they were face to face. Her green eyes shone silvery with tears both shed and unshed.

He smiled. "No, Mahou, we didn't die," he said. "We beat them all. We're both here, now." He took the crying girl into his arms and allowed her to sob into his robes for the second time that day.

"I think this calls for some damage control," he said in a light voice. "What do you say we ditch all our classes today, sneak into Hogsmeade and drink all the Butterbeer we could? My treat."

Mahou clutched Zidane desperately, recalling the feeling of warmth that her wolf had given her.. recalling the wondrous moments.. but that's all they were.. memories.

As he talked, Mahou slowly stopped crying, sniffling pathetically. Raising her head from his robes, Mahou looked him right in his eyes, her own still glistening with unshed tears. "Thank ye, Zid," she told him, great appreciation in her voice. "I wouldna want anymore points ta be taken from Gryffindor.. an' I wouldna want any ta be taken from Ravenclaw."

She poked the crest on his robes, with a half-forced smile. Hugging him tight, Mahou lay her head on his shoulder, her breathing irregular, and her face pale from crying.

"Though.. I ha'e ne'er been ta Hogsmeade," she said wistfully. "Wha' be there?"

Zidane started to answer Mahou's question but was taken aback by a shrill squawking sound. A large barn owl flew into the window and hovered above them, waving a cream-coloured envelope clutched in its beak in his direction.

He got to his feet and held out his hands. He rarely got mail this way.

"I think this is important," he said to Mahou, apologetically. "Imagine the owl trying to track me..."

His voice trailed off as he turned the envelope over and saw the large stylised logo. A simple letter 'A,' in a circle. He opened the letter and began to read it contents:

//Mister Zidane Summers...we have been carefully observant of your past medical records...we are inviting you to join our West Coast contingent, but if you would prefer to be part of the East Coast team we have no objection...we would appreciate a response as early as possible.. In service of Earth.//

"Oh. My. God." he said, his knees buckling. He had heard about them, but he had never expected that they...

"Mahou? Can you excuse me a moment? I need to...go somewhere. Gonna check this letter out."

Zidane squeezed Mahou's shoulder, picked up his schoolbag and ran down the hallway and out of sight.

----fade out----

Zidane Summers was not in his classes all day long. That night in the Ravenclaw dorm, he would say his goodbyes to his classmates, a strange enthusiasm lighting up his face.

The next day, he travelled to London via the Floo Network, then took the first plane he could catch to New York City. He was going to serve the Earth.