I've decided to not add any more characters.

My reasoning is that it's really hard to tell a story with around 15+ people main character-ing(?) in it. It's hard to have character development (almost impossible for me; others might be able to do it, but not me) so I've decided to focus on the FACE, ASIA, and GOLDEN TRIO.

Everyone else will have cameos but only minor ones. The pace of this story will be a bit faster as well. I'm trying to get through seven years of this after all. This story will vaguely stick to HP canon in timeline and events, but character deaths and other specifics will be changed up to fit.

Writing this as I go, so, bear with me! Thank you for waiting so long, my dear readers. Inspiration has been very tough to find. Enjoy. :)

Wang Yao was a very patient boy. He'd practically raised Yong Soo for crying out loud; patience was a must. However, after hearing that his aforementioned little brother had somehow set fire to another classroom with that Jones kid for the third straight time that week landing him in another detention… something had to change.

I knew he was bad company for Yong Soo. He's related to him after all, thought Yao darkly as he stalked through the hallways during his free period. His thoughts turned from his exasperatingly over-excitable little brother to the bane of his existence (Or so he said. Truthfully he knew that they both were good friends with each other; their 'rivalry' was the only way they expressed it to one another, and neither was willing to change that)—Arthur Kirkland. Frowning, he mused upon the Kirkland-Jones-Williams household as he passed by the Charms classroom, scorch marks attracting his attention. He paused, and inspected the scorch marks that extended outwards from the doorframe. Scowling, his little brother was brought to the forefront of his mind again.

What am I going to do with that child, aru? Sighing, Yao continued his walk, his pace quickening despite the large amount of time before dinner. As he approached the stairwell he accidentally bumped into someone while distracted by brooding thoughts on how to tame the freest spirit of his household. "Oh, excuse me I'm so sor—you."

Arthur Kirkland stopped sharply in the middle of his own apology. "Wang."

"Kirkland." Yao spat back at the taller boy, fingers twitching.

A tense silence was spent glaring at each other, dark brown clashing with emerald green in a silent battle for dominance. A long minute passed before Arthur finally cracked to Yao's long-practiced glare and sighed. "Look, Yao, we're in seventh year now." Arthur began walking down the stairs, Yao following after a moment. "Even I know when something's gone on long enough. Seems time we set aside our differences—our many differences—and come to a sort of truce. It's tiring to keep up this premise of hatred that doesn't exist."

Yao's tense shoulders relaxed. "I was thinking more or less the same thing just now, aru." A bemused* pause passed between them as they reevaluated their relationship.

"So," Arthur began, a grimace marring his features. "Our brothers seem to be acquainting themselves with Hogwarts quite well, don't you think? I'd actually expected more from them to be quite honest…"

"Oh yes," Yao replied, a similar expression on his face. "I'm actually surprised that they haven't blown up the Great Hall by now in a shower of sparks aru."

"Of course Alfred wouldn't be so disobedient had he been spending more time with that Potter character than your brother. Seems to me he's the bad influence in the pair." Arthur breezily stated, a sidelong glance directed at the Chinese.

Yao didn't live the last thirteen years with Xiang to not notice changes in facial expressions. His face hardened. They were on the second floor now, and fast approaching the first. "And just what do you mean by that, Kirkland? Clearly your brother's the devious one, corrupting my innocent little brother with his wily ways, aru!"

Arthur whirled on him, his right hand concealing the white-knuckled grip he had on his wand. "Excuse me? My brother was an absolute angel before he met that little scamp of a boy! For you to say otherwise, Wang, suggests an ignorance previously unheard of!"

Yao made a motion towards his wand which was concealed likewise in his right pocket right when Professor Snape appeared behind them, silent as a wraith. "I trust that the top students in my House aren't about to stoop so low as to duel in the middle of the staircase where anyone could drop by and see them, correct?" He said, a disapproving sneer on his face.

The two students jumped in surprise. Yao collected himself first. "No Professor Snape, aru. We were just—"

"—discussing on the different magical properties of griffin's talon when crushed properly into a potion simmering at a high degree." Arthur cut in smoothly, bushy eyebrow slightly raised in Yao's direction. Yao's mouth turned infinitesimally into a frown.

Snape looked at the both of them cooly, before nodding once in approval. They all knew that he knew the truth, but chose not to comment. "Good. Now off to dinner before I get annoyed with your presence."

"Yes sir."

"Thank you sir, aru."

By the time they sat down to the Slytherin table, the truce was all but forgotten.

"MERLIN'S SOCKS!"

Yong Soo looked up from his spot on the couch before the empty fireplace at his best friend. "What's that?"

Alfred groaned and 'died' dramatically onto Yong Soo's legs. "Oof, you great big fatty get off of me!" Yong Soo said, pushing him off his legs and onto the hardwood floor. Alfred pouted, limbs spread-eagled on the floor. "Meanie."

Ron, who'd been standing next to Alfred with Harry, groaned likewise. "Oh no we've got flying lessons with the Slytherins."

The first years groaned simultaneously in horror.

Harry sighed. "I'm probably going to make an absolute fool of myself out there. Draco's sure to be a prat and have a jolly good time of it making fun of me."

Ron clapped a comforting hand on Harry's shoulder. "Don't worry, mate. M'sure he's all bark and no bite."

Alfred jumped up from the floor and brushed off invisible dust. "Gentlemen, and ladies," he said, bowing to the ladies of the House, who giggled and curtsied back. "we are to face the enemy with the bravery and courage our House is known for. TO BATTLE!" He roared a battle-cry, and to the amusement of all the students of all years who were currently in the common room, he jumped out of the portrait hole, screaming, "FOR GRYFFINDOOOOOR!"

Matthew sighed, getting up from his comfortable position in the armchair he'd claimed by Yong Soo's head. "Well, I'd better go and get him before he does something stupid. Come, Kuma." Kumajirou followed dutifully after his owner out the portrait hole.

Thursday afternoon, 3:30PM to be exact, the quintet wandered off to the grounds excitedly chattering about how their first flying lesson was to be and moaning about the dreaded Slytherins.

Harry noted that it was a beautiful day, and commented on it. Ron nodded in agreement. "S'fine flying weather. Gonna be a great lesson I expect."

The Slytherins were already there, looking bored. Draco perked up at the sight of Harry. "Well, well, well. Look what we have here. Potter and his gang of halfwits."

"Toss off, Malfoy," spat Ron, glaring at him for all he was worth.

"Back off, Weasel," snarled Parkinson, who turned to Draco with a smitten look. "Don't mind him, Draco, he's beneath you."

Before Ron could tell him just who was beneath who, Madam Hooch appeared on the scene. She inspected the class, who waited with bated breath. She arched a silver brow. "Well? What are you all looking at me for? Choose a broom and stand by it. Well get on with it! I don't have all day you know!"

The class quickly assembled themselves to their chosen brooms with the efficiency of a well-oiled machine.

"Stick your right hand out by your broom, and with a commanding voice, say 'UP'!"

"UP!" chorused the voices of a crowd of eleven-year-olds.

The class, with varying degrees of success, watched as their brooms complied with their commands. Harry, Alfred, and Ron all had theirs excitedly jump with a satisfying 'smack' into their hands. Yong Soo and Matthew's brooms soared quickly into their hands with a calm Hermione envied as she could only watch helplessly as her broom rolled around in confusion on the ground. Neville was even worse off, with the broom only giving off a nervous twitch before stilling. No one else seemed to be having any luck, except Draco, Harry noticed with a slight frown. Draco was currently looking smugly triumphant at the broom grasped snugly in his right hand.

Madam Hooch walked around, coaching those unfortunate enough to have little success with their brooms. Once everyone was successful, she took her place at the front of the two parallel rows of children and showed them how to mount their brooms. Alfred couldn't resist. Leaning to his right, he whispered into Yong Soo's ear, "Hey baby I'd like you to mount my broom."

Yong Soo's mouth gaped in astonishment before he rolled his eyes. "You are so gross, Alfie."

Suddenly a commotion arose to their left, Neville's nerves seemed to have forced him into an impromptu flight, and after a horrifying moment where he paused twenty feet up the air, a white-faced Neville slipped off and fell to the ground, a sickening 'crack!' telling all that his landing had not been a kind one.

Madam Hooch leaped into action, gently taking the moaning Neville and walking briskly towards the castle, calling over her shoulder, "If any of you try to fly while I am gone, you'll be out of Hogwarts so fast the ink on your expulsion papers won't be dry."

A moment passed in silence after Madam Hooch disappeared from sight before Malfoy burst into raucous laughter. "Did you see the fat lug's face? 'Oh no, Mummy please help me! Help me I'm falling!'" The Slytherins joined him in laughter, mean smirks on their faces.

"Knock it off, Draco," said Yong Soo, an angry look on his face. "It was his first time on a broom and he broke his wrist. You shouldn't be laughing at that!"

Malfoy stopped and looked at Yong Soo condescendingly. "Looks like the Gryffindorks have corrupted you already, Im. Pity, I'd hoped you'd be more like your brother—but I guess all good families must have their exceptions, and it seems like this time it's you."

More laughter from the Slytherins. Yong Soo's anger faltered, unused to such outright rude remarks from others. Ron stepped forwards, looking like he'd rather like to punch out Draco's lights. "Shut up, Malfoy."

"Oh? What's this then? Looks like you've got a knight in freckled armor… you bore me." Draco looked down at the grass, and a glint entered his eyes. He darted forwards and picked up Neville's dropped Remembrall. "Finder's keepers."

Harry said quietly, "Give it here, Malfoy. That's not yours."

Malfoy looked at Harry like one would look at an odd stain on the sole of one's shoe. "Hmm, I don't think so, Potter. I'd rather keep it to myself—oh!" A mischievous look crossed his face. "I know! How about I leave it for Longbottom to find himself? Like, say… a tree?"

Laughing, Malfoy kicked up onto his broom and darted away, sixty feet into the air. He looked down at Harry, a false look of concern on his face. "What's wrong, Potter? Scared you might fall?"

Harry made a motion towards his broom, but was stopped by Hermione. "Are you daft?" she hissed. "If Madam Hooch catches you—"

Harry jumped onto his broom, ignoring her. He shot off into the air, and all worries of expulsion and possible death by heights slipped from his mind like sand through fingers.

Flying was simply marvelous.

The wind rushed through his hair and clothing, giving him a feeling of freedom unmatched ever before. A rush of immense happiness overtook him, and he almost cried out in joy before remembering the situation. Collecting himself, he pulled up by Malfoy and raised an eyebrow. Malfoy had a dumbstruck look on his face before scowling.

Harry held out a hand. "Give it here."

"And what're you going to do to me, Potter?" sneered Malfoy, but he failed to keep a trace of worry from his face. "Cry on me?"

"Give it here," said Harry, not deigning to reply.

Malfoy paused, "Alright then." He pulled his hand back and threw the Remembrall as hard as he could into the air. Harry's focus zeroed in on the downward flight of the Remembrall as he dived for it, right hand outstretched as his left gripped the broom tightly. Six feet above the ground, he caught it, holding it up triumphantly for all to see as he stopped his broom and jumped from it as naturally as if he'd been doing it his whole entire life.

"HARRY POTTER!"

Harry's heart sank.

Yong Soo hugged him as soon as he saw him at dinnertime, jumping up from his seat in a whirlwind of motion as Harry suddenly found himself with an armful of distraught Korean. Yong Soo looked up at him with great concern, arms still around Harry's torso. "What happened? Are you expelled? Banned from flying forever? Detentions until you're forty? What did she say to you?"

Harry's mind reeled from the onslaught of questions as Alfred got up, laughing as he pulled Yong Soo away. "Let the man breathe, Soo." He plopped down onto the bench, dragging a fretting Yong Soo to sit to the right of him. "Sit down, Harry, tell us what happened."

A few minutes later as he sat across from Alfred and to the left of Ron, he told them.

Ron choked on his roast beef, Harry clapping him on the back. As soon as he could breathe Ron exclaimed, "You're going to be a what? You're joking! That would mean that—"

"Youngest in a century, yes, I know," said Harry, a stupid grin making its way onto his face. Alfred and Yong Soo whooped in joy, startling the housemates closest to them. Matthew smiled at Harry kindly. "That's amazing, Harry! I should've known when you made that dive for the Remembrall—you're a born Seeker."

"Thanks, Matthew," Harry said, smiling back. Fred and George came over to congratulate him as well, before making their way back to their seats. His happy mood was shattered however, when a highly unpleasant face made itself known.

"Are you still here, Potter? Good, I'd like to watch you leave—it'll be the best way to end a perfect day of lessons," sneered Malfoy as he appeared behind Alfred and Yong Soo with Crabbe and Goyle dutifully at his sides.

"Sod off, Malfoy. You're quite brave now you're back on the ground. You weren't so keen to fight me up in the air without your minions." Harry replied.

Malfoy snarled. "Fine then, you want a fight? You'll get a fight. A wizard's duel. Meet me at the trophy room. Midnight. Crabbe will be my second." And then he was gone.

A moment of silence, before Alfred let out a long, low whistle. "Well, Harry, all I gotta say is… you're fucked."

Yong Soo smacked him upside the head.

IT IS 2:07AM OH MY GOSH I JUST POWERED THROUGH THIS CHAPTER LIKE A BOSS UNF SIX PAGES DOWN AND OUT FOR THE COUNT BOOYEAH.

R&R? :D

* = It's so irritating when people use "bemused" as a synonym for "amused". IT MEANS CONFUSED OKAY NOT AMUSED I JSUT AFKLDJSKAJFD;LK