A/N: So I have been working on this fic for the last 3 weeks but it's taken me forever to sit down and edit it. The was actually written before Midnight Mischief, which could almost be a sequel to this. This story will be about 5 parts, the rest to be posted once I finish editing. Most houses, especially for the minor characters, were chosen based on popular opinion in the fandom. People seem divided on Elsa but I have chosen to focus on her independence and introversion, hence why I feel Ravenclaw makes sense in this verse. Please let me know what you guys think and enjoy! (My first non-smut Jelsa~)

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"…now, with your left hand, hold the cauldron at a slightly different angle and pour another ten drops of wormwood essence," Elsa read. "...wormwood essence…wormwood essence…ah, there it is!"

She had mistakenly placed the vial behind her potions textbook after using it earlier. She carefully picked it up, doing her best to not shift her body too far, lest she tilt the cauldron too far.

"So that's the master brewer's secret? Talking to herself?"

Elsa nearly dropped the vial, startled by the loud voice coming from over her shoulder. She nearly rolled her eyes as she saw Jack leaning against the table behind her, his potion long abandoned. Typical.

"I know a few witches who love talking to themselves. The fine residents of St. Mungo's. I'm sure you'd fit right in," Jack said, chuckling.

But Elsa wasn't about to let the Slytherin get under her skin. Not wanting to ruin her potion, she carefully added the 10 drops of wormwood.

"Don't you have a Draught of Living Death to concoct, Mr. Frost?" she asked, icily.

"No need to be so formal, princess," Jack said, strolling over and pushing aside her books to lean obnoxiously against her table. He toyed with the dish of finely chopped valerian root, turning his nose up at the smell. "But if we're going to be using titles, you can call me Keeper of the Master Wand. And if you're a good girl, maybe I can show it to you sometime."

An angry flush filled Elsa's cheeks and she had to keep from hexing him back to the 5th century. But, far more vexing, he was currently playing with the next ingredient she needed for the draught.

"Jack, give that back!" She attempted to reach for it, only to have Jack hold it out of her reach. Curse the extra 5 inches he had on her!

"Ask nicely."

"I don't have time for these games! Please, Jack!" she begged. Jack snickered and moved it behind him, nearly dropping the beans out of the petri dish. Elsa released a startled gasp, feeling angry tears spring to her eyes.

Don't let him get to you, she told herself, blinking to hold them back. But the part of her that strove for nothing less than perfection knew she was working against the clock to brew this incredibly difficult potion. All her hard work was about to go to waste.

She supposed she should be used to this by now. Ever since coming to Hogwarts and being sorted into Ravenclaw, Elsa had worked her hardest to fight her way to the top. This often made her an easy target for classmates like Jack Frost, who really couldn't care less how well he did. To make it worse, he seemed to take great joy in screwing things up for her.

"Jack, lay off," Hiccup said. He snatched the petri dish from Jack and handed it back to Elsa.

"C'mon, I was just having a bit of fun," Jack said, elbowing Hiccup. Hiccup shook his head, but failed to hide a small smile.

"Thank you, Hiccup," Elsa said, pouring the valerian roots into a beaker of water. She shot another glare in Jack's direction. "At least there are still some gentlemen left in the world."

"Wow, straight through the heart," Jack said, mockingly grabbing his chest. "My tongue will tell the anger of my heart, or else my heart concealing it will break."

"…quoting Shakespeare now?" Elsa said. She was surprised he knew anything Muggle-related. "Where did you learn Shakespeare?"

"Muggle studies."

"I'm surprised you retain anything in that waterlogged brain of yours," Elsa mumbled, the thought slipping freely from her tongue before she could stop it.

She expected Jack to throw his own insults at her, especially since very little ever stopped him from speaking his mind. Instead, he leaned farther over the table and knocked over the beaker of water with the valerian roots. "Oops."

"Jack!" Elsa screeched.

She tried to reach for it but it fell to the floor and broke.

"Jack, what in Merlin's beard are you doing?!" Hiccup said, looking as horrified as Elsa.

Some of the other Slytherins began snickering. Unfortunately, this drew to the attention of Professor Gothel, who all but groaned when she realized who was disrupting the class. Putting down the ingredients she had been carrying, she walked over to the trio. "What is the problem here?"

"He sabotaged my draught!" Elsa said, pointing an accusing finger at Jack.

"It was an accident!" Jack protested.

"It was not! You're always doing things like this!"

"Yeah, well maybe if you weren't always being such a bi—"

"Mr frost!" Professor Gothel's shout caused every student in the room to suddenly become silent. She glared at the two arguing students, though most of her ire was directed towards Jack. After a moment's pause, she said, "20 points from Slytherin."

Groans could be heard from the other side of the classroom.

"Nice going, Frost," one of the Slytherins mumbled.

"What? But—that's not fair!" Jack argued. "I didn't even touch her draught. It's fine, see!"

But as he picked up the cauldron to show the professor, he slipped on the contents of the broken beaker, tripping into the potions instructor. The full weight of cauldron caused her to tumble over with a loud screech, the draught spilling onto her face and shoulders. All the students stared in shock as the potion-covered professor attempted to get back on her feet.

"P-professor Gothel, I'm so sorry—"

"JACK FROST, 2 WEEKS DETENtzzzzz….."

And like a rock, the professor fell back over, snoring loudly.

It was a long minute before anyone felt brave enough to say anything.

"…I can't get detention if she never wakes up, right?" Jack said.

Hiccup smacked his palm to his forehead.

"3 weeks detention with Professor Gothel, another week sorting books with Madame Maudie—"

"Couldn't you just give me another week cleaning cauldrons?" Jack complained. "I hate sorting books. I'm allergic to them."

The vicious look from Head of Slytherin, Professor Black, silenced every other complaint that sat on the edge of Jack's tongue. His posture drooped a little in his seat and he dropped his gaze. Very few dared to get on the Professor's bad side and his lack of tolerance for insubordination was legendary.

"Make that 2 weeks in the library," Professor Black said. Jack had to bite down hard on his lip to keep from speaking out. "Perhaps you may learn something useful if you actually spend time there."

The only thing I've learned is to not piss off the Ice Queen, Jack thought. It was one of the many nicknames he had come up for Elsa over the years, especially since she seemed to care more about the contents of her books than the people in her life. Maybe it seemed harsh how he always picked on her but she had shut him out years ago and he wasn't ready to let go of that.

"There will also be a 50 point deduction, on top of the 20 points Professor Gothel had removed from Slytherin," the professor continued. He paused, waiting to see if it would rile up the prank-loving student. With Slytherin trailing just behind Ravenclaw for the house cup, this blow was definitely going to hurt. But Jack simply looked miserably up at the professor.

"Will that be all, professor?" Jack asked, with a sigh.

The professor gave an indignant snort. "All? Mr. Frost, we have only gotten started. There's also the matter of your grades."

"My grades? What does this have to do with me accidentally sending the professor into a potion-induced sleep?" And while he tried emphasizing the accidentally, he had to admit, it still sounded pretty bad. 5 weeks detention was a blessing compared to what could have happened. Still, even if he wasn't being expelled, he was dreading the Howler he'd likely receive from his mother in the following days.

"You are aware that your acceptance into 6th year Potions and History of Magic was conditional," the professor said. He rifled through the large stack of parchment on his desk, a written record of Jack's academics at Hogwarts (along with Jack's more colorful antics), and retrieved the record he was looking for. "And currently, you performance has been less than stellar."

Jack ran a hand through his silver-white hair nervously. "I didn't do that badly on the O.W.L.s…"

"You received 2 Trolls, a Dreadful, a Poor, and 4 Acceptables, Mr. Frost," Professor Black said, looking at his student with disdain. He could already feeling the oncoming headache. "That you were even allowed into ANY classes took a lot of persuasion on my part. Let me remind you, you narrowly avoiding repeating some of them. And so far, this is what you have to show for it!"

He placed the parchment in front of Jack, highlighting Jack's academics up to midterms. Currently, Jack was failing three of his classes.

"Do you have anything to say for yourself, Mr. Frost?"

History of Magic is boring. I'd rather use the Cruciatus curse on myself than sit through another lecture. Astronomy is completely useless because when in the hell am I going to need to know Clairaut's formula? And I could learn more getting my ears blown out by a mandrake than that thing Professor Gothel does that she calls 'teaching'.

But, knowing that saying these things would get him nowhere, Jack stuck with the most honest answer. "I don't need potions to become a professional quidditch player, Professor Black."

It was all Jack had ever wanted. Ever since he could crawl, he had loved being on the broomstick. His parents, both Hogwarts graduates, often joke about how he could fly before he could even walk. It was his passion for flying and quidditch that made Jack the best seeker at Hogwarts and the reason why Slytherin had won the Hogwarts Quidditch Cup 3 years in a row.

"Be that as it may, you are still expected to complete your courses this year and take the N.E.W.T.s next year so you can graduate," the professor responded. "Anything less than 'Acceptable' will not be allowed for 7th year courses."

The professor took the document from Jack, putting it back in its place. "We are halfway into the term and there isn't much time for you to turn around your performance. The time has come for drastic measures and I expect full compliance from you, Mr. Frost."

All this time, Jack had been sitting quietly, mostly preparing for whatever lecture he would be given. He was expecting the usual: get chastised, reprimanded, pretend to feel bad, and then go off on his merry way. But the way the Professor mentioned 'drastic measures' made Jack's stomach drop and he had a feeling that he wasn't going to like it.

"What are you saying, Professor? If this is more detention—"

"You have enough detention, Mr. Frost. More will hardly do you any good," the Professor remarked, drily. "You will need help, preferably from someone competent and familiar with the material you need to catch up on. I have taken it upon myself to assign you a tutor."

"…a tutor?"

Jack nearly chuckled at the thought. Right. As if forcing some nerd to spend time with him was going to work. But if that's what it took to get Professor Black off his back, Jack would play along. He'll pretend to take it seriously and skip off on the poor kid to play quidditch after the first session. They had a final match against Gryffindor at the end of the school year so he could always use practice as an excuse to play hooky.

"There was only 1 student I felt capable of taking on this task," Professor Black continued, "she is also in your History of Magic, Potions, and Astronomy classes."

"She? Professor, who-"

There was a knock from the door. A blond head poked from the door. "Sorry to interrupt, Professor. You asked to see me?"

And suddenly, everything clicked.

"No!" Jack said, jumping up from his seat. "No, no, no! Seriously, you couldn't find someone else?!"

"Sit back DOWN, Mr. Frost!" Professor Frost said sternly.

The lilt in his posh accent sent a chill down Jack's spine. He slumped back in his chair, crossing his arms moodily over his chest. He could care less if he looked childish. He so was not going to be tutored by her.

Professor Black motioned for Elsa to come in. She cautiously took the seat beside his, arranging her robes and straightening her posture so she could look the part of the model student. Jack wanted to roll his eyes but didn't dare under the scrutiny of the Professor.

"Miss Lindstrom, you have been informed of this arrangement?"

"Yes. I…I have decided to do my best to help Mr. Frost," Elsa said, though her voice was slightly tense. He could imagine she was only as thrilled as he was by all this.

And what was it with her always calling him 'Mr. Frost'? It's like she was declaring to the world how little she thought of him.

"It's Jack, by the way."

Elsa ignored him.

"Have you looked over the recommended study schedule?"

"Yes," Elsa said, holding up the parchment she carried with her. "There are no conflicts with my courses, though if Mr. Frost has any objection, I'm sure we can work something out."

"I have many objections, but I've got a feeling neither of you are going to listen to them," Jack complained. "Let me see that."

He rudely took the parchment from Elsa's hands, nearly causing it to tear. As his eyes scanned over the scheduled sessions, he couldn't help voicing his displeasure. "Tuesdays and Thursdays and every second Sunday? But I have quidditch practice!"

"This is only until the end of term, Mr. Frost."

"No," Jack said firmly, standing to his feet. He crumpled the parchment, ignoring Elsa's 'hey', and tossed it on the ground. He couldn't care if he had a year's worth of detention, they were not taking away quidditch from him! "I don't have to be tutored. Thanks for trying, Professor, but I'd rather eat slugs than spend five minutes being lectured at by Miss Perfect."

He stormed out of the office, his patience completely lost. He knew he was in a world of trouble but he didn't care.

"Off the team?"

Jack gaped at Hans, his world turned completely upside down by the Slytherin captain's harsh declaration. It felt like minutes of stunned silence before he found the ability to speak again. "But…I'm the best player. Merlin, I'm the best seeker is this whole school. Why am I off the team?!"

"Coach's orders," Flynn said, adjusting his elbow guards. The 7th year chaser threw an arm around the shocked seeker, putting him into a headlock. "And don't get so cocky! There's no 'I' in team. And…well, no more 'you' in our team."

Jack struggled against Flynn's grip, the older student's strength and build working against him. Flynn chuckled and let him go a few moments later. But the joke stung more than their playful wrestling and Jack found himself embarrassingly blinking back the sting of tears. "Too soon, Flynn. Way too soon."

Seeing how much it had upset his friend, Flynn sighed and threw his arm around Jack again, this time giving him a short, affectionate squeeze. "Cheer up, Frost. I'm sure you'll be training with us in no time!"

"Unfortunately, we don't have any choice in the matter," Hans added, picking up his new Nimbus broomstick. "Professor Black said that until your grades improve, you are suspended indefinitely from the team."

"But that's just games, right? I can still practice, can't I?"

He may be off the team, but Jack didn't want to take the chance of losing his game. His lean build made him perfect for his position but it also had taken years of practice to get to where he was. In the last two years alone, he had caught the snitch in every single game played, his skill and timing improving each time he flew into the pitch.

"Sorry, Jack. Rules are rules."

Jack's shoulders fell and he scuffed the ground dejectedly. The broomstick he was holding suddenly felt that much heavier.

"So, who's going to replace me?" he asked.

Hans put a firm hand on Jack's shoulder. "No one is going to replace you. You're going to take a few weeks to get yourself together and then I expect you back in the pitch to train for our last game against Gryffindor. Jamie will train in your place until then."

Jamie was only a third year and one of their reserves who looked up to Jack. He wanted to be a seeker as well but since Jack still had another year at Hogwarts, he was being trained as a chaser to replace Flynn in the upcoming season.

Coming up behind Flynn, in full uniform, Jamie looked a bit worriedly at Jack. Jack could tell the kid was nervous since all the pressure was on him should Jack fail to make it back in time for the last game.

With a sigh, Jack pulled out his lucky golden snitch from his quidditch robes and walked over to Jamie.

"Hey, squirt."

Jamie made an annoyed face at the nickname. Similar to Jack, he was starting to grow taller and leaner. Jack had no doubt the kid would probably tower over him someday.

"You're going to need this," Jack said, handing him the snitch.

Jamie held up the snitch, his eyes growing wider. "Wait, is this—"

"Yeah. That's the first one I caught, back in third year," Jack said, smiling fondly at the memory. It had been an amazing game. His first game ever. He remembered feeling so nervous but the moment he got on the broomstick, all his nerves slipped away. He could still remember the feel of the wind on his face, the sound of the crowd as he stretched out his hand and grasped the golden snitch. But even the glory of his victory couldn't compare to the look on Elsa's face as she cheered his name in the stands…

"I can't accept this, Jack," Jamie said, looking up at Jack guiltily.

It broke Jack out of his recollection but he suppose it was for the best. This wasn't the time or place to remember how everything fell apart after that.

Forcing a smile, he ruffled Jamie's hair. "I'm not giving it to you, squirt. Keep it for good luck. And don't lose it. I'll need it when I come back in a few weeks."

"And you better come back, Frost," Flynn said, slapping Jack heartily on the back. "Because if we're going to make the Lions eat dirt, we'll need you in the pitch."

45 minutes late. What was I thinking agreeing to this?

Elsa kept trying to tell herself she wasn't hurt over being stood up like this. This was Jack Frost, after all. The wizard who could hardly commit 5 minutes of his attention to a lesson, let alone make it for a study date. But it didn't change the cool sting of rejection, even if the rejection came from a situation forced on both of them.

Well, sort of forced. She would be foolish to deny her own acquiescence. With only 2 months until the end of year feast and the announcement of the House Cup winner, she was more than willing to jump at the chance to win some House Points and push Ravenclaw ahead of Slytherin. And she had been promised a substantial amount for her House if Jack managed to pass the 3 classes he was failing. Maybe it would help her be more liked by her housemates, or at least feel less shunned. Ravenclaw was a tough house to be in because they not only competed against the other houses but also each other and since Elsa was the top student in all her classes, it made her everyone's number one rival. But it also didn't help that she was always turning down offers for socializing, even spending Hogmeade's Days holed up in the library and studying to stay ahead. Most of the other Ravenclaws took her antisocial behavior as snobbery, even though it was far from the truth.

Another minute ticked by and Elsa tried to bring her mind back to the Astronomy paper she was working on. She couldn't afford the distraction of her personal angst when there was work to be done. Even if Jack was a no show, her time in the library would not be a waste.

"I guess he won't be needing a tutor," she had told Professor Black.

Professor Black smirked. "Oh, I wouldn't count on that, Miss Lindstrom. I'm sure he can be persuaded…with the right incentive. Give him a chance. He'll be in the library tomorrow evening."

And how wrong Professor Black was.

"—and more than 200 000 quasars have been detected since—" she whispered to herself, reading off the page of the book.

"Still talking to yourself?"

The books that were dropped noisily onto the table startled many of the students sitting nearby. Although they were sitting in a section of the library where students were allowed to gather and converse, Jack still managed to disrupt the unspoken level of noise allowed in this room. It earned him many dirty looks and Elsa could already feel herself flush in secondhand embarrassment.

"Where were you?" she whispered.

"Quidditch practice where, spoiler, I'm no longer on the team," he said. He grumpily pulled out his mostly destroyed Astronomy textbook, the condition of it making Elsa cringe.

"What happened to your book?"

The way she said made it sound like she was asking why he had drowned a kitten or maimed a baby unicorn. Jack cocked a brow, still not really getting what the big deal was. "I was bored the other day so I charmed it to pursue me like a bludger while I practiced chasing the snitch. It knocked me good a few times but I showed it who was King of the Pitch."

The triumphant smirk on his face made Elsa die a little on the inside. She took the book from his hand and it immediately fell apart into pieces. "You destroyed your textbook while playing quidditch?"

"Turns out astronomy can be useful," Jack remarked cheekily.

Elsa pulled out her wand and mumbled Reparo, watching as the book returned to a useable condition. She wasn't sure what was more ridiculous: that he would use his textbook for his games or that he apparently had so little regard for his education that he couldn't be bothered to repair the book himself.

"Is quidditch all you ever think about?" she said, her tone coming off more condescending than she had intended.

Jack chuckled, leaning back in his chair and giving her a cocky look. "I'm a 16 year old wizard, princess. I can assure you I think about more than just quidditch."

The saucy wink he threw in for good measure was really pushing Elsa's patience. The last thing she needed was to know what goes on in his head.

"Well, you have successfully wasted an hour of my time," Elsa said. She took Jack's textbook and opened it to the page she had been reading. "So, we'll have to add another hour to make up for it."

"Seriously," Jack groaned, dropping his head on the table, "but I need my beauty sleep."

"I'm sure an extra hour of studying won't kill you," Elsa responded, tapping her wand on his shoulder. "Now, get up and let's discuss quasars."

"German kings?" he asked, lifting his head.

"Those are Kaisers," Elsa said, as if speaking to a child. She didn't like coming off as arrogant but how could Jack not know what quasars were? They talked about it last class. But Jack had been too busy charming locks of Rapunzel's hair float above her head, Elsa suddenly remembered. Her cousin, another Ravenclaw student, was overprotective of her hair and had screeched a string of profanities when she found out what Jack had been doing. As unfunny as Elsa had found it at the time, thinking about it now brought a small smile to her face.

"What's so amusing?" Jack asked.

He was looking at Elsa with sudden interest, like he had never really seen her smile before.

The smile slipped away and she was back to business. "Nothing important. So, Professor Claus wanted us to research quasars for next week's paper. These books will tell us everything we need to know…"

Elsa referred to the giant stack of books to her left and Jack groaned dramatically. She has a feeling it was going to be a long night.