A/N: My lovely Anon from Tumblr whom I have spoke of before (recently calling themselves C.C), requested: "I have another prompt (Don't do it if you already have too many. I know you have a lot but I thought this one was really good). X-Men: First Class in a Harry Potter setting. Who would be in what classes/houses, would Charles and Erik still be friends, what problems would they have, ect. I thought of this because I see you like Harry Potter. Have fun (if you do it)!"

And honestly, how could I resist? My reaction was along the lines of, "OMG YES. I LOVE GETTING THE EXCUSE TO WRITE THIS, SOMETHING I'VE ALREADY SEEN IN FANART A COUPLE TIMES OVER. HUHUHUHU~!"

So... prepare for just random babble, since this is a drabble and not a full-length fic. And the ages are WAY off in comparison, so ignore it. XD

"Hurry, Sean! We're going to be so fucking late!" Alex calls over his shoulder as he races down the castle's corridor, trying to get to Professor Xavier's classroom before he's too tardy.

The red-haired Hufflepuff struggles to keep up with the blond Slytherin, and he's constantly cursing him out under his breath.

When they enter the room, everyone else is already there. They think that they're safe — "Whew, made it!" Sean breathes, sighing with relief — when, suddenly, a little brown lab rat with blue eyes on the professor's desk transforms into their teacher.

Shit.

"Late again, boys?" the head of Ravenclaw says with a raise of his brow, smiling minutely as he sits down. "That's twice this week, and it's only Wednesday!"

"Sorry, Professor Xavier," Alex and Sean mumble in unison.

"It's nothing. I'll let it slide without detention, but that's going to be five points from each of your houses," he reminds. "Take your seats, and then we can begin today's lesson in transfirguration and how your genes will merge with your chosen animal's."

.:.

"Angel! Quit changing the color and pattern on your nails with your wand and pay attention!" Erik snaps, glaring at her, and she shrinks in her seat, half her face being hidden by her green and silver scarf in the chilly Potions room.

Professor Lehnsherr clears his throat and drones on about how mistakes in ingredients can go so far as to make another potion entirely, and unsuited for one's needs. He demonstrates, and in the corner, Hank, an intelligent and secretly very brave Gryffindor boy jerks to attention as the demonstration explodes a bit and turns from a bubbling, green-smoked potion into a calm, thick crimson one after a single drop too much of an orange liquid is added.

"…And now you have just made something that could save your life into something that can end it. Any questions?" the Slytherin-housed teacher poses.

No one answers. But that's because Professor Lehsnherr is fucking scary sometimes, and especially if you question him. So they take their notes and wait for class to end.

.:.

"And this, children," says Professor Frost with a smile, her Hufflepuff-colored skirt fluttering up a bit too high and distracting the male portion of her class for a moment, explains, "Is how to properly plant one of these sweet little darlings." And she gruffly shoves the plant into a pot and fills the bottom around the roots of it, pouring rocks, then soil then water into the pottery.

Raven grunts, her red and gold tie itching her, and she can't wait to visit her older brother in his classroom later, because she feels so proud to say that her brother Charles is the Transfiguration professor at her school.

"Hey, could you pass me the watering can?" asks Ororo, a first-year, and a fellow Gryffindor. She adores this class. Herbology is her main study, decided even at her young age. She wants to have her own greenhouse and open up a professional shop one day.

"Sure; here you go," the metamorphmagus says, and hands the can over to her. She is a seventh-year herself, nearly out of school. And even though Raven Darkholme is her name, everyone likes to call her 'Mystique' because of her appearance-changing abilities.

"Thanks," Ororo replies, smiling through the curtain of white hair around her. Across from them, a Ravenclaw girl named Jean Grey finishes before all the rest of them, smiling proudly. Ororo scoffs at how easily everything comes to Jean, and tries to focus instead on her work.

.:.

"Azazel, why do you apparate so much? Aren't you afraid all that apparating and disapparating will get you in trouble? You're not supposed to do it on school grounds…" Hank murmurs, looking over the Slytherin boy with interest.

Janos, one of Azazel's Hufflepuff friends, shrugs. He never talks much, and everyone figures that he's going to drop out of Hogwarts and become a Tracker, maybe one that works for Dark Lord Shaw. He looks like someone who might join the Hellfire Gang anyhow.

Azazel nods at his friend's reaction. "It matter not," he grunts, folding his arms over his chest. "I do it to save time, and I have not been caught yet."

"Yeah, but… What if someone told on you?" Hank squeaks, feeling nervous.

"Someone like you, perhaps?" Azazel growls, and Hank shies away.

"Er, uh, no, no! N-nevermind. I'll just… go. Sorry," he murmurs, and when he turns a corner, another Slytherin bumps into him. He rubs his chest where the other boy's head rammed into him, and he finds Alex Summers and his brother Scott walking together, Alex being the one who collided with the spectacled Gryffindor.

"Watch where you're going, nerd!" the blond yells, and Scott shoves him.

"Be nice, Alex! For Merlin's sake…" and he shakes his head. He looks to Hank and helps him stand. "Sorry about that, man," he says, and Hank notices the Gryffindor tie. How come he never noticed that Scott was in his house? And why are two brothers sorted apart like that? It seems… weird. Scott goes on, "Are you okay?"

"Pfft, and you don't even ask me that," Alex grunts, looking anywhere but at Hank. "Whatever. I'll just go find Sean. See ya." And he leaves, and Scott laughs it off and walks back to the common room with Hank, making idle chatter.

.:.

"Rough day?" Charles says with a slight smile as he walks into the teacher's lounge room, dropping to sit beside Erik. Ravenclaw and Slytherin, but good friends, like many of the mixed students around here.

"Somewhat. I can never seem to get some of my kids to pay attention. I bet they would if I were teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts," Erik grunts, casually running a hand through his hair.

Charles nods, about to say something when Emma drops by, swinging her hips and sighing into her favorite chair. "Hello, gentlemen," the Hufflepuff woman greets mildly. "Have any of you seen Logan?"

Professor Logan is a werewolf, and the current moon is full, and only Charles knows. He clears his throat and covers for the Gryffindor man very smoothly. "Ah, no, I think he retired to his quarters early for the night. It's best not to bother him." He smiles and gets up, producing a bottle of Firewhiskey. "Would anyone like some?"

"Just pass the bottle and I'll be just fine," Erik grins, and the three share a round while the other professors in the room converse on the opposite side.

It's been a rough day with the children, it's true, but that's why even grown witches and wizards are allowed to unwind with some magical brew.