Mathias walked into the Great Hall, his hair wild like the flames in the Gryffindor fire place. His robes were creased but he did not mind that; his uniform was never in pristine condition anyway. He looked like he usually did, he thought, pondering why he was receiving strange looks from his peers. He shrugged it off with a grin, plonking himself down next to his best friend and fellow Gryffindor Alfred F. Jones. The blond creased his eyebrows, his blue eyes behind his glasses filled with amusement and confusion.

Mathias scanned the rest of the table; all the Gryffindor students were shooting him the same glances. However it wasn't just his table, the whole school was. His stomach turned, the feeling of discomfort overwhelming. He turned to look at Berwald who was watching him from the Ravenclaw table, an undistinguishable emotion dancing in his eyes, though his face, like always, remained stoic.

His chest felt heavy, as he felt like there was a huge story that the whole school was in on and he was the only person who didn't realise. Gilbert was smirking at him from the Slytherin table, his crimson eyes glinting curiously.

"Okay," he said slowly, turning to his American friend, "Why is everyone sending me strange looks?"

Alfred couldn't contain himself anymore, bursting into a fit of laughter, his face buried into his arms on the long table. This confused the Danish teenager even further. 6 years in this school, and still there were some things he could not, nor would he ever, wrap his head around. This being one of them.

"Dude, seriously," he said, his voice faltering. He chuckled, the nerves kicking in. He scanned the room, attempting to meet someone's eyes, look for an explanation. Someone had to give in and tell him, right? His heart rate rose in his chest, and he was able to hear it pounding in his ears. He loved jokes, as long as he was the one playing tricks, not the one being tricked. He licked his dry lips, brows furrowing.

Suddenly, out of nowhere he heard someone shout his name. Or, rather, scream "KØHLER" at the top of their lungs. He spun round, as did the rest of the school. In the archway stood an angered Lukas, his arms crossed in front of his chest. Then Mathias spotted it; the Slytherin boy was wearing a tie of red and gold and robes emblazoned with the crest of Gryffindor, one belonging to his own house. But where...?

Mathias' eyes widened in realisation, his hand grabbing at the tie round his own neck. The green and silver shone in the light of the levitating candles enchanted below the ceiling. He cursed under his breath. So that's what it all was about. He slapped himself on the forehead, whispering "stupid" under his breath, before being pulled up onto his feet by his – well, Lukas' tie. Lukas' navy eyes looked unforgiving.

"I will kill you one day, Køhler," he muttered, not breaking eye contact. A lopsided smile crossed the Dane's lips as he tried not to laugh. The Norwegian, unamused, refused to let go of the tie that was beginning to cut off his air supply.

"You look hot in that tie," Mathias struggled for air, receiving another hard tug after the words were said.

"Watch it, Mathias," the other boy sighed, letting go, his fingers pinching the bridge of his nose. With a sigh, he added, "Just give me my robes back, Køhler."

Nodding, he feverishly slid the tie and robes off, handing it to the other. "Did I at least do them justice," he joked, earning a roll of the eyes. With the correct tie, robes and a curt nod of the head, the shorter blond left to join his friends at the Slytherin table. Mathias grinned watching him leave.

"Okay, but tell me," Alfred said beside him, finally recovered from his earlier laughing fit, "How did your uniforms even get swapped anyway?"

Mathias smiled to himself. "Now that, my friend, would be telling."

Just something short I wrote a really long time ago. Uploading it since I haven't uploaded in a while.