Elphaba818's Author Note:

Wow... I can't believe it's been six months since this has been updated. Seriously, the last update was back in October, and it's March now. I never wanted there to be such a long hiatus in between these two chapters, especially since I can't wait to start writing all the fun stuff Shar and I've got planned for the tournament later on in this story. But what can I say? Life happens.

Right after the last chapter was posted online, it was pretty close to college exam times for Shar and me, and we both had to focus on school. Then it was the holidays, and after the holidays, I went on vacation to Disney World for my birthday back in January before the spring semester started. I know Shar's been updating some of her other stories on her profile, so she's been busy writing in her free time, but as for me? This is a hard semester for me since I've been busy with not only my 2D Foundations class for my Animation degree, but also my Directing and Adv. Film Production class for my regular Filmmaking degree, and since Directing and Adv. Production have so much homework, I've been so swamped lately I haven't had any time to write.

Plus, that's not taking in account the amount of time it takes Shar and me to swap PM's back and forth to get chapters ready. It's a team effort to write this fanfic, and we both write half of each chapter by writing the POV's of two or three characters at a time, and then we have to send the rough drafts to one another so we can edit each other's work and state whether or not we want to change anything in the sections before we can post it online. So yeah, it can take us awhile to update.

Anyway, I'm rambling here. Let's get back to the story, shall we? Lol.

I'm really pleased with how this chapter turned out. We finally get to meet the competitor schools! Perhaps those of you who like to read in between the lines will be able to figure out just from this chapter alone who will make up the rival teams against Hogwarts. ;D

There's no Elsa POV again unfortunately, but don't worry! Everyone's favorite winter royal will turn up again very soon!

Now, onto my usual thanking of all the nice reviewers!

- imafangirlforever

- IReviewThings

- Lightningpanda

- Cloud4012

- 300PASTA

- Guest (x2) (In the future, please leave a name so I can properly acknowledge you in any future AU notes)

- Starlord

- LavenderMoonRose

- CenturysRuin

- Kit

Thank you! All eleven of you! Your kind reviews are what make the creative juices between Shar and me continuously flowing! I hope you will all leave us nice reviews again! :D

Read, review, and above all, enjoy the chapter!

SharKohen's Author Note:

Greetings all! Just a remainder that story is sort of taking place in like mid 1870s, compared to the original Harry Potter that's in like the 1990s. So just try to wince too hard at the weird mish-mash of historicity attempted here. Gracias.

Chapter Four: The March of Heroes

"In what period of time was the printing press invented in Muggle Europe?"

No one answered, because no one cared. Well, okay, not that no one cared, but… ugh, who was anyone kidding? Really, no one cared.

"May I have a volunteer for this?" Gothel's tone was getting testy, and that meant that she was irritated.

Rapunzel sighed as she added another curly vine to the intricate lily that she had been illustrating on her parchment. Truth be told, she knew the answer, because she had read the textbook for Muggle Studies inside out dozens of times already. Hour after hour stuck in the same tower, one ran out of reading material fast. But she didn't want to look like the teacher's pet – it was bad enough that it was her own mother teaching, after all. She had made that mistake First Year, and had regretted it deeply ever since.

She added a trail of dots around the lilies for flourish, while her mother tried to coax an answer out of a student sitting in the front row. Rapunzel didn't really note what was said, but it was obvious that the student was quite unenthusiastic about the lesson, and also had not read the assigned materials.

"Sit down," her mother barked, clearly irritated. As the slovenly student took his seat, she whipped around, curls falling elegantly over her velvet-covered shoulder. A dark smile spread across her face as she said, barely concealing the threat, "Would anyone else like to try?"

'Eh, not really,' was the reply that the silence gave.

With half the page filled with the swirly motifs of flowers, Rapunzel decided that the bottom half would be of maple leaves. As she proceeded to sketch out the jagged curves, she felt a little wriggling against her. Giggling slightly, she pulled open her cardigan slightly. This allowed the little reptile nestled in its inner pocket to better observe the artistry process. Carefully adjusting her arm, so that it would still block her illustrations from Mother's view, she resumed her doodles.

As she did, her mind couldn't help drifting off to elsewhere in the giant castle, where no doubt a bunch of students were also huddled together around petrified specimens, or maybe anatomy textbooks, or maybe studying potions of various sorts. An unbidden jealousy rose inside Rapunzel as she thought of all those lucky students; spending their time in electives far more interesting and meaningful than Muggle Studies.

Now, Rapunzel wasn't the sort to hold a grudge against half-bloods, Muggle-borns, or Muggles. Her interaction with other people was so limited that the whole notion of blood prejudice was something she only understood by second-hand accounts. To her, as long as a person could do magic, that's all there was to it. And even if that person couldn't, that didn't mean that they hadn't equal value. After all, Mother couldn't, but she was still trying to make the world a better place, albeit through the rather tedious and inefficient Muggle curriculum.

Mother didn't always say it so in plain words – she usually heavily implied it through innocent-sounding remarks – but she didn't like this job any more than Rapunzel liked having a parent for a teacher. She only did it to protect her. It was Mother's way of being noble and sacrificing, and as a daughter, she should be nothing but grateful.

But it didn't stop the young Ravenclaw for yearning to be in the Medi-Wizardry classroom instead. After all, what good was it to learn about the Muggle world? She might live in Muggle territory, but the tower of her residence was so far isolated from them that she would never interact with them, anyway. But with that in mind, learning Medi-Wizardry too would be pointless if she was never going to stay long enough in the Wizarding world to use it. No matter what she did, nothing was ever going to change.

A shudder ran down her spine, so abrupt that her sketching hand froze. A pang of loneliness in her chest was so loud that for a second, it drowned out her mother's droning. It was like in that moment, as she stared into the loneliness that awaited her, the loneliness started staring back.

Good old Pascal must have guessed her line of thought, for he then chittered a comforting chitter. As long as he was around, she would never be alone.

Breaking out of her melancholy thoughts, she smiled just slightly. "Thanks, Pascal." She brushed her forefinger over his head, to which he responded with a musical purr. "You always know what to say."

"Rapunzel?" her mother's voice rang out. "Do you know the answer?"

Startled by the call, but guarding her expression so that she would not reveal so, the blonde girl rose slowly to her feet and said, "The late 14th century?"

It was the correct answer, but for some reason it started off a series of snickers around the class. Mother's face had severe disappointment written all over it, her thin lips downturned and her wiry fingers curled around the pointer rather waspishly.

"Rapunzel," her mother said in an even tone, but there was annoyance in the way her jaw tightened. "The question we are on now is concerned with where, and not when, the printing press in Europe started."

The girl cringed, cheeks burning red with shame.

"Sit down." Mother's manner was neutral, but Rapunzel knew that she would be hearing about this after class.

Miserably, the blonde plonked back down on her seat. She knew that Pascal was squeaking some comfort to her, but it didn't change the facts.

"Would someone else like to try?" Her mother had continued on. A hand shot up somewhere else in the classroom and Rapunzel noted that it belonged to the reserved young royal of the class. "Yes, Princess Elsa?"

The chair didn't even scratch the floor as the slender, regal girl stood up. Her voice was quiet. "It started in Germany."

"Excellent, your highness." Her mother's rare smile appeared as the princess took her seat once more. "Yes, while the printing has its roots as far back as 5th century China, its origin in late 14th century Europe was in Germany, where Johannes Gutenberg was influenced both by the Chinese's print work and ancient Roman cod—"

She was cut off by rapping on the classroom doorframe. All eyes went straight to the Gryffindor student standing there, cheeks flushed and eyes sparkling.

"Miss Motunui," her mother hissed acridly. "I hope this interruption has an excellent reason behind it."

The girl's bushy curtain of black curls swished behind her as her head swung towards the teacher. "Oh, certainly, Professor Gothel." Swinging back to the students, she called, "Everyone – outside right now! They're coming!"

"Who?" someone in the classroom asked.

"The Tournament schools!" That was the only answer they got before the girl disappeared. She reappeared a few seconds later, gazing at the stunned students incredulously. "Why're you all still here? Get off your butts – you'll want to see this!"

And then she vanished again, but her voice could be heard echoing back up from down the corridor, where she was undoubtedly hollering the same to the next class.

The students of the Muggle Studies elective all glanced at each other. Their teacher rolled her eyes, and started to say, "Come, let's not lose our wits here. We've only got forty more minutes, so let's—"

Then, a good half of the students shot out of their seats and dashed towards the door. The other half left watched them in gaping mouths, before shortly doing the same.

"What is – wait, students!" The professor's voice rang out loud and clear. "Where're all of you going? We have a syllabus to cover!"

But no one really cared, so no one really listened, not even her goody-two shoes daughter, who had been one of the first to burst out of the room.

By the time Rapunzel made it to the stairwell, it was flooded with students, all eagerly moving like a descending tide down the stone steps. One hand she used to scoop her long braid to her chest, so that no one would step on it. The other she used to hug her cardigan to herself, so that Pascal wouldn't fall out of it. For all her distaste for isolation, she didn't pretend to enjoy squeezing through the full strength of the Hogwarts student body.

She didn't know exactly where she ought to go, but she saw mostly students rushing towards the Viaduct Courtyard. It made sense, since any visitors would make their entrance through, well, the entrance of the castle.

Yet, as she scurried from the quadrangle to the Viaduct itself, she saw the entire walkway full of fellow students, not any of the promised visitors. So, where were they?

She noted that most of the students were leaning over the right side of the balustrade, squashing their faces between the pillars to gaze out to the harbor. While she was not usually the type to push her way through things, she gritted her teeth and wriggled her way past her peers for a better look out down the chasm. Pascal had crawled up to her shoulder so that he could get a taste of the action.

What Rapunzel saw made her wish that she had a pencil and a pad.

The murky-colored clouds, that were always part of the Scottish landscape, had been unusually parted with bright beams of sunlight lending a rather ethereal quality to the unfolding scene. And indeed, in itself the scene was already quite ethereal, for in the sea of dark clouds stood a giant peach tree above a wispy, gold cloud.

The tree itself looked humongous from a distance, and Rapunzel could imagine that it would be as tall as the Astronomy Tower, if the two would ever be put side to side. It glowed a warm, welcoming yellow, and its large branches began to grow, spreading out like twirling curls in the sky. As the branches grew, they began to split into smaller versions of themselves, eventually taking the form of wooden vines.

As they reached towards the nearby cliff, the long vines had twisted themselves into the forms of several long, winded suspension bridges. There were shouts of amazement and awe as figures were seen emerging from the peach tree, either through the giant peach blossoms or the massive trunks, and moving onto the winding bridges connecting sky to ground.

The figures themselves were too far to be seen properly, but from the whispers around her, Rapunzel learned that these were probably the students from Ilvermorny. That made her eyes widen in surprise.

Not much was known about the American magic school, except that it was founded by some Irish witch in the early 1600's, making it one of the youngest magical schools ever. Because of that, it was said that the magic practiced there was rather unusual, being a confluence of European magic, traditional magic of the American Natives, and a dash of mystic influence from its various immigrants. It was rather 'unconventional,' an adjective that most in Hogwarts used in a sneering manner.

But as Rapunzel gazed upon the giant peach tree in the sky, the gorgeous, intricately-crafted bridges that emerged from it, she was filled with nothing but awe.

"Look!" someone along the Viaduct called out. "Down in the water!"

All heads immediately dipped down towards the tossing lake waves. Upon every quaking surface, giant bubbles could be seen, clustering together into a swirl of white foam before — SPPPPPPPPPPLLLLLLLASSSSSSSSHHHHHH!

It was so loud that several students had to cover their ears, but the grins on their faces only grew wider as they saw the massive submarine that had emerged from under the waves.

Rapunzel had seen pictures of submarines before in the various encyclopedias that Mother had dumped on her shelf, but nothing was quite like seeing one in person. Moreover, the submarine that she was craning her neck to stare at was nothing like those she saw in her books.

Its top was a tented shape, allowing the water to roll down its sides rapidly. Each side to the peak was covered with a multitude of large metallic gears, rolling rapidly against one another. It was a giant clockwork mechanism that powered its propellers, letting the submarine sail forward as smoothly as any ship could, but far quicker. Rapunzel watched in fascination as the submarine navigated smoothly around the stone formations in the water, a feat only possible due to its streamlined design. As the submarine drew closer, the two large panels that formed its roof suddenly separated, gears still rolling and clicking as much as before to reveal a long platform beneath it. By some miracle of machinery, that platform began to rise.

The Hogwarts students watching could barely speak, and if they could, they only uttered words like 'Whoa!' or 'Are you seeing this?!'. This excitement only grew when the metallic platform was revealed to be carrying an entire assembly of students, all dressed in colorful robes that Rapunzel had never seen before. They all waved gracefully towards the Hogwarts students crowded on the Viaduct, who all eagerly waved back, cheering and hooting as the submarine continued its course towards a lower cliff. That would be where the students, who must be from Mahoutokoro School of Magic, would alight.

"Alright, alright, that's quite enough, rebyata!" she heard an accented voice boom down the Viaduct corridor. Professor North's giant hands were on his hips, his deep frown not hidden by his thick beard. He pointed a big meaty finger down towards the courtyard. "Now, you bag of mischiefs be back in your classroom once I reach dvat-sat. Otherwise—" he cracked his massive knuckles meaningfully.

The threat itself was enough to make any student shudder. Well, except one student raised his hand. "Sir, we don't know Russian, so errr… what's 'dvat-sat?'"

Professor North only shot him a wicked grin. "That's the point, no?" Spinning towards the other students, he bellowed, "AH-DEEN! DVAH!—"

That was enough to send the gawking students scrambling, Rapunzel included. She raced back across the courtyard, hair still hanging off her arm and Pascal secured back in his spot. She leapt up the stairs two at a time, and even at this distance, she could still hear the Deputy Headmaster's roared numbers. Along with her other classmates, she hurried back to her desk. Her mother had not left the classroom, and she cast a rather severe look towards her daughter.

Inwardly, the girl winced. The talk her mother would give her tonight would be very, very lengthy indeed.

While waiting for the other pupils to hurry back in, the blonde took a cursory glance around the room, and was surprised to note that the Princess of Arendelle was in her seat, head ducked down in her textbook, intent in her reading. She hadn't participated in the hullabaloo, it seemed, and possibly never left her desk at all. Odd, but perhaps it was just some princess thing that Rapunzel wouldn't understand.

After the last student had filed back in, her mother took up the floor again, a wide, thin smile spread from cheek-to-cheek. Instantly, Rapunzel tensed with dread.

"Weeellll—" her mother was sure to drag it out in an overtly bright manner, which was a warning sign in itself "—now that we're back, we'll be having a little test on the chapter."

This sent a cry of dismay throughout the class, who hadn't read the prep materials nor paid any attention earlier on.

"Now, now, stop this whining," Mother hushed them sharply as she passed down the sheets. "It's frightfully immature, not to mention very annoying."

As she took her own test sheet, Rapunzel did not join her peers in grumbling. Instead, her quill went quickly down the line and began filling the blanks. Her thoughts were occupied with colors, and she could see the shades spread across her canvas, from the brilliant sun that shone from the giant peach tree in the sky down to the mechanical wonder that was shooting through the lake waves. It would be her new project, and the notion of that was enough to brighten her mood.

Perhaps she ought to add a new creative hobby to her repertoire to pass the time this year since Mother wouldn't let her change classes. Frog Choir was always looking for new members, and her little scaly green pal could pass as a frog if no one looked at him too closely. She'd have to remember to run this idea past Pascal later when her mother wasn't around.

Her life was never going to change, but there was nothing stopping her from enjoying what she could never have, if only at a distance.

"If they're all from America, why do they look so different?" was the musing from Astrid as they sat squashed with the other Gryffindors.

All heads had been turned in the direction to the center of the hall, and bodies too followed where the heads must be. The guests of the Tag-Team Tournament had been making their grandiose entrance, and the students of Hogwarts would not surrender their spots to watch the show.

And my, what a show it was! The students of Ilvermorny could have chosen just to march into the Great Hall of Hogwarts in their robes while chiming their school song, but they didn't. They rolled in giant drums that sounded like thunder while their peers, dressed in loose, grand robes, began an acrobatic dance like nothing Merida had ever seen. In fact, the nature of the dance was so fierce, so measured, so precise that it felt more like a fighting style than a dance. From what Astrid had told her, these 'martial arts' were pretty much that.

"They say that all kinds of people all over the world go to America," came the redhead's answer to her friend. "No doubt they'd bring with them many things."

At that moment, one of the Ilvermorny students came leaping forward with a long, curved sword, swishing it rapidly over his head charging toward an unarmed fellow student. This made all the spectators gasp in horror, but that concern was quickly proven to be unwarranted. The unarmed student, a tall girl with bronze skin and black lines painted across her face, smoothly rolled out of the way of her assailant, sliding to her feet with such grace that Merida could almost imagine herself to be at the ballet. That was, until the sword came slashing at her. The tall girl stretched herself forward, missing the strike whilst simultaneously grabbing hold of her opponent's wrist, twisting it sharply. This forced her opponent to drop his weapon to the ground. She didn't stop there however, but proceeded to grab his elbow with her free hand. Before anyone could blink, the opponent went sailing over her head, then landed face down on the ground.

The two Gryffindor girls gawked open-mouthed while the rest of Hogwarts burst in resounding applause. It was a wonder that the Great Hall hadn't exploded right then and there.

"No weapons – imagine that," the Scottish girl whispered in almost reverent awe. "And right over the head."

"Eh, I can do that too," Astrid disagreed, but admitted, "Won't look as graceful though."

After yet another impressive 'martial arts' routine, a jaw-dropping acrobatics performance and another sparring display, the floor was handed over to the Mahoutokoro students. It had been doubtful that they could outdo the other school's performance, but those had been proven unfounded.

From what Merida heard of this Japanese school, they had a history that could easily rival Hogwarts' own. Indeed, they had once been reputed to be even more traditionally-rooted than their Scottish counterpart, trained in arts as ancient as the moon itself. They had kept to themselves and didn't care to interact much with others abroad, not even fellow wizards. It was only more recently under their new Emperor's 'Restoration' project that Mahoutokoro had undergone a major overhaul. They had become a 'modern' school, embarking on a quest for knowledge so bold that it'd make the bravest wizards in the West stagger. They were said to be quite obsessed with the Muggle's magic-like counterpart called 'Science,' though most blood-purists would jeer and say that's all just hogwash.

"Good evening, all," the headmaster of Mahoutokoro greeted them. "I am Professor Alistair Krei."

He was a tall thin man, and certainly not Japanese. In fact, quite a number of the staff of the school weren't native to the Eastern islands. From the grapevine, it seemed Mahoutokoro had been eager to engage the best, most 'modern' wizarding teachers from the West, and any other students that agreed with the school's daring vision. Merida vaguely remembered some years back how her mother complained about how this Krei fellow kept hounding the Ministry to invest in the 'Science' that Muggles loved so much. It was clear that he had given up and sought to further his ambitions abroad.

Merida didn't like his face. It was too angular, too sharp.

"It is with great pride and pleasure that Mahoutokoro presents the great works of our very own students." He bowed deeply, with a grin far too cunning for Merida's taste. "Enjoy."

The light of the hall had been dimmed, and with that, the student body fell silent in anticipation. A faint whirring sound was heard, along with the clicking of gears. In the darkness, suddenly there was a flicker, a crackle, and then a whitish, purplish light appeared in from the center of the hall. Contained within a floating inverted glass flask and balanced upon a black pole, it emitted a low-hum and occasional crackles while dancing along the transparent surface. It was possibly the most fascinating thing anyone in the room had ever seen.

"What's that?" Astrid whispered to her friend.

Merida could only shrug. "Maybe some kind of Japanese thing."

"It's electricity."

The two girls dipped their heads down towards a tiny boy who was crouching in front of them. From his colors, he was from Hufflepuff, and should in fact not be sitting at their table. He must have snuck up here to get a better view. His cheeky grin and starry-eyed expression made him out to be a first year, so Merida decided not to tell him off.

When the young lad noted their befuddled faces, he added, "It's that thing from lightning, you know. Benjamin Franklin?"

"Sounds vaguely familiar," Merida murmured just as Astrid mused, "Not ringing any bells here."

"Shh!" someone along the table hissed. "We're watching here."

Under the faint glow of this 'electricity' thing, two of the Mahoutokoro students could be seen crouching down next to an odd-looking device. This device consisted of two giant spools of metal wires, swirling back and forth as the two students took turns to wind it.

Near them, there was another student, a tall Japanese boy with dark hair and a pleasant countenance. There was a bright smile across his face as he said in perfect English, "Good friends of Hogwarts, the following presentation will only use minimal magic, but I ask you, for your own safety—" his grin widened even more "—do not rise from your seats."

He shot quick glances to various peers spread down across the Great Hall, each holding some kind of coil on a stick. All of them were crouched to the ground. Suddenly Merida had a huge urge to duck down and cover her head. Not that she was scared, or anything – just in case, you know.

The Japanese boy then crouched down himself, before removing his wand and whispering a spell that Merida couldn't catch.

The glass contained exploded, but the gasps of the audience couldn't be heard as the bob of 'electricity' suddenly stretched its tendrils out, shooting around the room with an ear-splitting 'CRACK!'

The redhead slapped her hands over her ears, like most of the others around the room, while she watched these lightning-like bolts bounce across the different metal coils around the dining space. It was terrifying, yet fascinating how these loud, dangerous sparks could move so quickly, so elegantly through the air. In the past three years in Hogwarts, she had always seen it draped in the orange hue of the candles, but here, she could see it illuminated by the purest, whitest light. As she slowly removed her hands from her ears, she realized that the crude noises were not just loud crashing sounds, but—

"Astrid!" She yanked her friend's hands from her ears, much to the blonde girl's dismay. "Are you hearing what I'm hearing?"

"What are you—" the Viking's grumble stopped short as both of them heard loud and clear in the fizzing, crashing madness—

'—old and BA-ld, or yoUNG with SCAB-by kneeees, Our HEADS could do with FILL-ling, with SOMe IN-te-RES-ting stUUUUUFFFFF—'

"It's the school song!" someone nearby exclaimed. This revelation was barely heard at all under the horrifying, yet awesome, buzzing from above—

'—no-OW they're BARE and FULL of AIR, de-AD FLIIIEESSS and bits of flUUUFFFFFF!'

"How are they doing that?" Astrid yelled, her hands flying back to her ears. Yet, she couldn't move her gaze from the dazzling spectacle over their heads.

Merida could only shrug and cover her own ears. The booming words could still be heard anyway.

'—Briiinnnggg BACK what we've FOR-got' the dancing lights above continued to sing in their eccentric, otherworldly voices. 'Just DOoooo your BEST we'll do thEEEE RE-ssssssttt, and LE-arn un-TIL ouuurrrr braaa-INNNSS ALLL ROTTTTTTTT!'

CRWAAAAACCCCCKKKK! And the purple spindles of electricity vanished in the dark.

As the natural lights came back on, the Great Hall was erupted with thunderous applause. Students from all three schools instantly show to their feet, letting out a mix of cheers, whistles, and screams. Even the teachers didn't hide their approval, joining in on the enthusiastic ovation. The only ones who didn't seem to be very pleased with the display were some of the stuffier Slytherins, who had chosen to frown and fold their arms tight to their chests.

But nobody cared about them. Oh no, all eyes were on the stars. The Mahoutokoro students involved in the display lined themselves up in the center of the hall. At the cue of the tall Japanese boy, who Merida reckoned was the leader of the group, they bowed. The applause then swelled to near deafening volumes, with some even calling for an encore.

Their headmaster then went up to join them, clapping them on the shoulders and ushered them off the stage. As they began clearing out the equipment, the noise died down just enough for Headmaster Lunar to proclaim, "Come, Hogwarts! Tonight, in honor of our extremely talented guests!"

This the students happily obliged, and perhaps a little too much, with some people screaming so fanatically at the top of their lungs that others might wonder that they were possessed. But a sharp gesture by the balding Headmaster was enough to quieten the hall once more. Everyone settled back to their right seats, including that Hufflepuff boy who had been sitting at their bench. Good riddance.

"Before we begin the feast—" there were a couple of groans from the back end, but Manny's sharp look silenced them "—the chairperson of the Tournament will give us a few words. Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, the Minister of Magic, Queen Elinor of Dunbroch!"

Merida found herself rising off her seat automatically, her jaw dropping at the same time. Whilst her peers applauded politely, she stared dumbstruck at her mother's elegant form, draped in Ministry colors and looking the very image of a politician, leaving her seat to join the Headmaster in front. How the girl hadn't noticed her there before, she wasn't too sure, but in all the chaotic festivity – you know, fun stuff – her stiff, law-abiding mother was the last person she expected to see here – a school that she had described so often as barbaric and crude.

But Elinor Dunbroch here now was not the strict parent, but the benevolent Minister, smiling graciously down upon the student body. She took the podium whilst Headmaster Lunar stepped away, the wide, welcoming smile that Merida so often failed to imitate. "Students and staff from all parts of the world – welcome!"

This was met with cheers.

"It has been years since my own schooling years, and I remember my own excitement in seeing the Tournament come to life."

Of course, her mother didn't say that her schooling years were spent in Beauxbatons, not Hogwarts, and that hers was the real Triwizard Tournament, not some silly watered-down version that the Tag-Team Tournament was. Merida let out a sniff as she plopped herself back on the bench, scowling.

"There's nothing quite like competition to bring out the truth of one's character and indeed, the worth of it," the Minister continued on, smiling so brilliantly that it hurt to look at her. "The team behind the Tournament has designed this with the very best of their abilities, and I have no doubt that whether you are participant or spectator, it will be a game of your life time."

Again, obligatory applause. Merida ran a nail along the bench, foot tapping unconsciously. She saw a student at the Hufflepuff table let out a yawn and felt a surge of embarrassment. She knew how boring her own mother's lectures were, of course. Did she have to bring her boringness to Hogwarts?

Now her mother was waxing some prose about the beauty of teamwork, and the virtue of good sportsmanship, and all the things that she already knew because she played Quidditch, but oh wait, that's an activity her mother didn't approve of because 'princesses don't engage in such rough, filthy activities and really, Merida, you couldn't just take up crocheting like that Lady What's-her-name.'

Not caring if anyone saw her, the redhead buried her face in her arms.

Eventually, her mother ceased the droning on the character of individuals, but started talking about every single member involved in organizing the Tournament. At the same time, she would only talk about their role in a vague fashion, in fear of giving away information about the Tournament itself. Like 'Headmaster Oogway has been deeply keen to challenge the wits of the students, and Headmaster Krei has been keen to challenge the innovation. So, you will be sure to find that the Tasks ahead of you will test both your wits and your innovation, hand in hand.' Yes, yes, very informative.

"And last but certainly not least, we cannot forget our lovely benefactors of the tournament, and our most esteemed personage," her mother's voice never wavered the slightest through all the ridiculousness that she talked about, "Their royal majesties, the King and Queen of Corona."

The applause for this pair was surprisingly enthused, but perhaps it was because they were the last in this boring speech and everyone was quite ready for this to be over. Indeed, even the regal pair that rose to wave at the students appeared quite fatigued, a mood that could not be hidden behind their grand robes with the sun-shaped motifs, nor their gleaming sun-shaped ornaments. They really liked suns, didn't they?

"Thank you, Minister," Headmaster Lunar had smoothly interjected before her mother could speak again – thank Merlin that he did. Merlin swore that she'd scream if she heard anything more about character building and teamwork. "So, before it goes any further in the night, I must present to you what we have long been anticipating."

"Food?" someone along the table whispered hopefully.

Manny raised his wand briefly and the lights of the hall were dimmed once more. He then seemed to have whispered something to her mother, who though briefly fazed by her speech being cut short, was once more donning the pleasant façade of the Minister once more. She descended from the podium and approached an odd-looking structure that stood in the front of the hall. Merida had never seen it there before, but had not taken note of it, thinking it was meant to be one of the props for either the Ilvermorny or Mahoutokoro's performance.

Her mother approached the strange structure, which had its full form obscured by the black drape upon it. With her perfectly manicured fingers, she grabbed the corner of the cloth and yanked away, filling the hall with blue light.

There stood a giant cup, only that it wasn't really a cup since it didn't have handles, and indeed it would be quite ridiculous to try lifting it with one hand, for it was made entirely of smooth granite and was as tall as her mother. Its sides were encrusted with gems, along with elaborate motifs that suggested it was only a little less ancient than the school. From its mouth was an ultramarine flame, a bubbling, flowing sort of thing that vibrated with a life-like energy, almost like that 'electricity' thing from before.

"The Goblet of Fire," Manny spoke, "has been the impartial decider of competitors since the first Tournament, and that tradition shall be carried on still. Those eligible may cast theirs and their teammates names into the goblet's flame after tomorrow." His tone became graver, more somber. "May the best team win."

Everyone clapped as the lights returned back to the hall. Then, an opulent spread of dishes appeared on the table, and all matters of the Tournament was forgotten. After all, food was much more important.

Merida diligently stacked her plate with as much as it could carry, then turned to digging in it. She deliberately refused to look towards the long tables in the front. She would not catch her mother's eye, and hope that somehow, she would be overlooked in the sea of students.

Of course, that was wishful thinking. The Dunbroch curls were too prominent a feature. Still, a girl could dream.

At this point, it was obvious that Astrid hadn't been stuffing her guts the way she normally did, so the red-haired princess asked, "What's the matter?"

"Ilvermorny and Mahoutokoro are so talented." The blonde frowned deeply as she set her plate in front of her. "How on earth is Hogwarts going to beat them?"

"Oh, they'll work it out somehow," her companion answered in a rather careless fashion. "Besides, it isn't our problem. We can't participate, so might as well enjoy the food." She lifted up a drumstick as large as her fist. "Bet you I can finish this in a minute."

The Viking girl let out a snort, sour mood gone as she picked up a similar drumstick herself. "Please, I can do it in half of that."

"Oh, is that so?" Merida wagged a challenging eyebrow.

And thus, the gorging began.

Sounds of the merriment from the Great Hall could be heard for miles around the castle. Chatter of engaging conversations between the vast array of culturally diverse students, clinking of silverware against plates as foods of all kinds were popped into watering mouths, the grand windows glowing warmly with golden light of a thousand candles… It was the finest party from miles around, and only a fool would miss it.

Yes, it would take a complete and utter idiot to miss such fun, and that was the precise description of a certain lanky, disgruntled, sort of toothpick-shaped hero.

Hiccup sighed in frustration as he plodded away from yet another seemingly empty clearing in the Forbidden Forest. Yet another section of his makeshift, hastily copied version of Kristoff Bjorgman's map had been crossed out with a large, charcoal 'X.'

"Argh! The Gods hate me," the gangly boy groaned. "Most kids get recognition by acing O.W.L.'s or shooting hoops at Quidditch. But no, not me! Oh, no, I skip out on the coolest party of the year so I can find a dragon that might not even exist!"

Yes, Hiccup himself knew that what he was doing was beyond stupid and reckless, traipsing all over the Forbidden Forest after dark. This wasn't exactly like Raven Point forest back on Berk. Although that forest was enchanted much like most of the craggy island, its inhabitants were more of 'let's stock-up on nuts for the winter' variety when dragons weren't infesting it. Even when the latter occurred, it was still pretty safe, because there was a regular squad of older Vikings that patrolled Raven Point, clearing out any dangerous creatures on site. Gobber was a frequent volunteer for that patrol, but Hiccup suspected it wasn't to guard against dragons as much as to find the ever elusive troll that apparently stole all of his left socks.

The point was that Raven Point forest was a place that you'd want to keep your guard up in. The Forbidden Forest was a place that you went to when you've generally given up on living all together, and are just this close to going on a pilgrimage to the North Pole to let the ice eat your fingers and a walrus eat your kidneys.

Only an idiot would willingly wander about in it.

But he was an idiot with dreams of being recognized by both his disappointed father and his dream girl who often pretended that he didn't even exist at all, so what could he do? If finding a dragon would redeem himself in their eyes, then he'd muster up what little courage he had and do exactly that.

Though truth be told, the young Viking heir was starting to wonder at this point whether or not Kristoff's map was at all accurate. Thus far, he had only the dubious privilege of stepping right into a patch of sporadic Bouncing Bulbs – inaccurately dubbed harmless Star Grass, thanks for nothing. If it weren't for the fact that he'd have to admit that he had been snooping through the third year student's things, Hiccup would march straight up to Kristoff Bjorgman this very minute and give him a thorough shake.

"He better be flunking Herbology. That's the only way I'll forgive him for this," the scrawny Viking muttered irritably, wiggling his way in between some large, tightly-wound tree trunks. "I mean, seriously! Who else would be dumb enough to—?"

He was cut off by something shifting in the bushes, dead ahead.

In a flash, Hiccup dived behind one of the large trees, slapping a palm against his mouth lest a whimper escaped it. Whatever that was sounded close. And big. Very, very big.

The Viking gulped, jamming the hastily copied map back into his pocket and yanking out his wand. What was out there right now? The dragon, or… something else? Something worse?

It took everything Hiccup had to peek out from behind his hiding place. From what he could see, nothing appeared out of order, but even so, he didn't dare drop his guard. In the magical world, any type of creature could be treacherous if it thought it was in danger or if its territory was intruded. Just because it might not be the object of his hunt didn't mean it wasn't a threat.

After a few moments of intense staring, the Hufflepuff slowly emerged from his hiding place. With his wand still in hand, he ventured carefully forward. Part of him would much rather speed off in the opposite direction, but on the off-hand chance that it had been the dragon there, there might be some trace of it. He was quite certain he'd been wandering around in circles for a while now with his stupid map. Any sort of clue he might find would be a welcome one.

With trembling fingers, Hiccup pulled back a thick cluster of leaves and glanced down. A happy grin spread its way across his lips. Yes, something had been there all right. Those tracks were far too big to belong to any unicorn or centaur. He was definitely on the right track.

But then another thought came to him, and with it, Hiccup's smile was wiped away. Yes, there were tracks here – fresh tracks too – but where was their owner?

"Lumos," he quietly muttered.

The end of his wand was instantly illuminated, and he brought the light down close to the ground so he could better see the tracks. They were all a little close together, so he couldn't quite distinguish whether or not the tracks in the dirt were dragon prints or not, but they did leave a clear trail leading off further into the forest.

Hiccup's grin quickly returned to his face. Excellent. He had a solid lead. This was going even better than he'd originally planned, and he followed the trail without a second thought.

On and on he pressed into the forest, the leafy overhangs only becoming thicker and denser as he wandered deeper. As he followed the trail of prints, Hiccup soon realized that he was at the edge of the boundary line of his makeshift map. The teen came to an immediate halt. This was the spot where the third year had allegedly seen the dragon, if it indeed was a dragon.

Thrills of excitement rammed against the Viking boy's chest, but unease also slithered through his veins.

It was one thing to wander around in the Forbidden Forest while following some form of guidance at the time, such as with Kristoff's Bjorgman's roughly sketched map. It was a whole other deal to continue this little adventure when he didn't know what danger lay ahead.

Maybe it would be better if he came back tomorrow. At least he could return here in daylight, which was probably a million times safer. Yeah, he should turn around right now and—

His musings were cut short when the toe of his shoe accidentally kicked a small pebble into the shadows, against some oversized boulders ahead. A split second later, his hands slammed over his ears to block out the deafening, feral shriek.

An explosion of purple fire erupted in front of his eyes, and he instinctively dove to the ground. Flames licked around him. The grass was replaced with cinders. The boy barely had time to sit up again before a second deafening roar reverberated through the air. There wasn't even time for the terror in his brain to flood his senses, because it was then that the creature leapt out from behind the gigantic stones and shot up. It ignored the thick branches on the trees that scraped its scaly hide, taking off into the sky, disappearing into the dark.

Hiccup could have sworn his heart had stopped beating. It didn't matter that he hadn't gotten the best look at the beast, because he already knew what it was. It had been a dragon, and not just any dragon. No, it was the unholy offspring of lightning and death itself.

A Night Fury.

The one dragon all wizards feared above all others. No one really knew what it looked like, because no one had ever lived long enough to tell the tale.

That meant his chances of surviving this ordeal had shrunken considerably.

Despite the terror ebbing its way through his body, there was also another emotion coursing through Hiccup now after seeing the flying reptile – excitement. It was sort of bizarre, but as far as he knew, no one had ever seen a Night Fury up close, let alone kill one. Perhaps the gods had decided to take pity on him after all. Perhaps today would be the day that Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III would prove that he was no squib. Heck, the Sorting Hat might even declare that he had always been meant for Gryffindor after all!

The Viking boy was off like a shot through the thicket of trees, one eye keeping track of the path, and the other was trained right at the ceiling of leaves directly overhead. His eyes moved between the brief gaps in the green foliage, not daring to tear his gaze away from the flying reptile, despite the difficulty of keeping up. Should he look away for even a second, he was positive he'd never be able to spot it again.

On and on Hiccup ran, not stopping for even an instant. Low hanging branches scratched his face and arms as he tore wildly through the trees and bushes, but still, he kept going. Nothing was going to stop him from bringing down that dragon. Nothing!

Slowing slightly when approaching the foot of a steep hill, his left foot was snagged by the knotted roots of a large English Oak tree. He yelped as he tripped, starting off a series of 'oophfs' and 'arghkks' as he started tumbling down the grassy knoll. His was fall was broken when he felt his body whack into something smooth and surprisingly soft. However, now he found some strange slime clinging to his black and yellow Hufflepuff robes like glue. Groaning in frustration and disgust, Hiccup hurried back to his feet again, trying to shake off the bizarre goop that had latched onto him. He felt around in the darkness for the wand he had dropped, gagging slightly at the icky sensation along his palms – what was this, some kind of gelatinous mud?

He found the stick at last – it wasn't broken, thank the gods, though it was very sticky and weird right now. With his overall bad luck, accidentally breaking his own wand was a real possibility.

Wait, no, he shouldn't even let himself think that. Then it really might happen for real. Happy thoughts, Hiccup. Think happy thoughts.

Cringing, the teen managed to free himself from the sticky puddle. He tried to wipe away the worst of the gunk off, but that only succeeded in making himself feel even more gross. What on earth were those breakable, gooey rocks, and what were they doing out here in the Forbidden Forest? Well, anything was possible in the Wizarding world.

Another shrill shriek echoed through the air, and Hiccup's attention snapped back to the matter at hand. He was in uncharted territory now, but wherever he was, he was grateful that this particular patch of the forest had fewer trees. There was a nice, open patch in the leaves overheard, granting him to have a narrow, but clear view of the night sky.

The gangly boy kept his wand at the ready, bright green eyes desperately searching the black sky.

"C'mon," he muttered out loud. "Give me something to shoot at… Give me something to shoot at…"

There was a brief pause, and then, quite miraculously, he spied a black shape blocking out the twinkling white stars. It was only a quick, half-second view, because just as soon as he saw it, the dragon let out another purple plasma blast which exploded in midair, nearly concealing itself once again in the shadows. But even so, that fleeting glimpse was all Hiccup needed.

"Petrificus Totalus!" he shouted, pointing his wand.

There was a flash of white light, and then Hiccup heard a great howl in the air, followed swiftly by the great black outline falling from the sky. Somewhere, further in the forest, a crash and thud was heard.

For the longest time, Hiccup didn't move. He simply stared, wide-eyed and jaw dropped, at the far-off horizon line where the Night Fury had crashed.

His Full Body-Bind Curse had worked.

He usually sucked when it came to performing spells in Defense Against the Dark Arts textbooks, but this time, his spell had worked.

"I hit it…" he murmured in disbelief, still trying to comprehend what he'd done. Then he pumped a fist in the air and whooped for joy. "Yes, I hit it!"

He couldn't stop himself from celebrating his success, and even if he was capable of controlling himself, he wouldn't have. He, Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III, had finally proved himself as a Viking-Wizard. He had shot a dragon right out of the sky. And not just any dragon, but one of the most deadly, rarest dragons known to wizard-kind! He'd grounded a Night Fury! A Night Fury! He couldn't wait until the rest of the kids from Berk heard about this! Oh, Snotlout's expression would be priceless, and Astrid? Maybe she'd actually start noticing him now.

"Oh, wow! If only someone could have seen this…!" the Hufflepuff boy murmured wistfully to himself.

A split second after he had uttered these words, he wished he hadn't.

Somewhere behind him in the shrubbery, he could hear something scurrying. It wasn't a dragon, Hiccup was certain of that, because not only could he hear multiple legs moving about, the steps were too light, too quick for any dragon to make.

Hiccup gulped, forcing himself to turn around.

His face instantly turned white.

Standing behind him was a gigantic acromantula. Its huge, disgusting pincers were clicking together menacingly as it appraised him with six out of its eight, beady black eyes. The other two were locked onto the gooey mess that Hiccup had fallen into when he first fell into this particular clearing.

Wait… no. This wasn't just a gunk. It was remnants of the goopy interior of eggs.

Giant spider eggs, to be exact.

Oh, for the love of Thor!

The poor unfortunate teen bolted just as the spider charged.

Hiccup could barely register what he was seeing as he dashed through the forest. Scratches drew themselves on his freckled complexion as he shoved branches out of his way. Bruises painted themselves on his roughened skin as he knocked into tree after tree in his haste to escape. The minor injuries were a nuisance, but compared to an excruciating death by a very angry giant spider, he'd take them any day.

He could hear the monstrous acromantula charging after him, hissing furiously as it stayed on his heels. He didn't dare look back to see just how close or far away from him it was. He just kept running as fast as his legs could carry him.

That being said though, Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III was the worst Viking-Wizard to have come from Berk in over three hundred years for reasons not entirely due to being 'almost-but-not-yet-Squib,' for indeed, by Muggle standards he was already pretty pathetic. Stamina was no friend of his, and a couple minutes of running was all it took to get him winded. The auburn-haired boy ducked behind the cover of a particularly large, sturdy oak tree as he struggled to regain his breath. Leaning up against the tree bark with one of his hands, he wondered to himself between pants why, oh, why did these always happen to him? Why?! All he wanted was to take down a dragon so he could prove himself to everyone. He never meant to crush those damn spider eggs. For the umpteenth time, why were the gods punishing him?!

He had no time to dwell on this though, because judging by how loud all those rustling leaves were becoming, the acromantula was only a few feet away.

Hiccup gulped, tightening his grasp on his feeble wand. He might not be the great Viking his father had always wanted, or even competent enough a wizard, but there was no way he was letting that spider eat him alive without putting up some form of a fight!

He muttered a super-fast prayer to Odin to spare his life, leapt out to face certain death, when a sharp voice cut through the air.

"Arania Exumai!"

There was a flash of blinding blue light, and the spider was blasted at least twenty feet backward. Hiccup gaped in shock as the monstrous acromantula lifted its rounded abdomen from the ground, twiddled its pincers menacingly at him one last time, then abruptly spun around and fled back under the cover of the trees.

The teenager stood there, dumbfounded. The spider was gone. He was alive. He was still alive after nearly being eaten by a gigantic spider… but how? Who cast that spell and saved him?

"Hiccup!"

Oh, crap. He wish he didn't know that voice, but he did.

Wincing in the manner of one who had been slapped, Hiccup forced himself to turn around. Shuffling his way toward him from behind a cluster of thick, leafy bushes was none other than Gobber. Sitting upon his wooden stump was a clever little contraption that held the part-time blacksmith's wand. This was what the limping fellow was using his good hand to remove now, replacing it with his regular hook now that the danger had passed. But it was not the glinted point of the hook that caught the fourteen-year-old's eye, but the furious expression on his mentor's face.

Hiccup gulped. On Berk, he might be the blacksmith's apprentice, but here he was a student, and Gobber a professor. A professor who had caught a student doing something explicitly forbidden by the Headmaster.

This would not end well.

"Uh… hey, Gobber," Hiccup chuckled nervously, even sheepishly scratching the back of his neck. "What… What are you doing all the way out here?"

The enchanted blacksmith only raised one of his blonde, bushy eyebrows.

He hastily amended his approach. "I shot a Night Fury. Out there." He gestured towards the dark of the forest.

"Yes, and I'm a Muggle tight-rope ballerina," the elder Viking deadpanned.

"I'm being serious, Gobber," the boy insisted as earnestly as one could in a nasally voice. "We just need a search party and—"

"And what? Run around in circles? Fall into another nest of giant spiders?" The hook-handed man let out a sigh. "C'mon, lad. You're in enough trouble as it is."

Without warning, his hook had latched onto the back of the Hufflepuff's boy's robe, lifting him clean off the ground. He ignored the boy's indignant protests as he carried him through the forest, like a fish hanging from the line.

"You deserve every inch of punishment you get," the gruff fellow rebuked. "Skipping out during the Welcome Feast. Just outright rude, mind you. Sneakin' off to the Forbidden Forest, just like you did at Raven Point—"

"Raven Point," the lad retorted, his struggling ceased, "is not forbidden. And we need to turn back now! Who knows what could happen if—"

"Raven Point," Gobber interjected, ignoring the young miscreant's demands, "is forbidden to you after all that crazy you pulled – and we know just how much crazy that's been, eh?"

"But—"

"The Forbidden Forest is forbidden. I mean, it's in the name and every—" The man rubbed his forehead. "Look, laddie, I know you got heart, but, by Odin's shiny eyepatch could you just try not to be—" he made a vague gesture.

Hiccup creased his brow. "Be what?"

"Like, well, you know—" Gobber repeated the intelligible gesture.

The boy only appeared more confused.

Sighing, the Viking dropped the lad back to his feet. He then lifted hook and hand from Hiccup's head, then lowered it to the boy's feet. "All this."

Hiccup blinked.

"Just stop being all—" Gobber performed the action more slowly, as if that would help "—this."

"You just gestured to all of me," the boy pointed out dryly.

"Exactly!" A wide smile formed under the dirty yellow moustache. "Just stop being all of you."

Hiccup stared at him, not sure exactly how to respond.

"Now, come on. We'd best get back," Gobber waved him forward, giving him a wide berth as he noted the gunk that decorated his robes. "I don't much fancy being acromantula grub – not that I can't fight off those beasties, wand or no wand."

Hiccup rolled his eyes, but still trudged along after the heavyset man as he led the way back to school. While Gobber's immediate dismissal of his claim was jarring, perhaps it was in part his own fault. His reputation of Berk's most useless Viking was not exactly unfounded, and he had to admit much of his – ahem – antics back home no doubt colored the old blacksmith's view of him. Still, it was disappointing that he was so close, and yet so far from the very object that could change everything.

He would have to find a way to get back out here soon. After all, he knew his sight hadn't tricked him. He had seen the shadow fall from the sky. He knew that the Night Fury was out there, and it was waiting for him. His destiny. His identity. So let Gobber believe what he wanted – it'd add to the shock when it turned out that he was right.

"Are we heading back to the feast then?" the boy asked, his stomach growling a bit from skipping dinner.

His mentor let out a dark chuckle. "Hardly. It'd be over by now."

"Ah." He was a little disappointed, but he had no regrets on how he chose to spend the night. His rumbling tummy didn't agree, though.

"Yeah, well," Gobber's tone was unsympathetic, "consider that empty stomach of yours the first half of your punishment."

His ears perked up in alarm.

"Hope you like stables. You're gonna be cleaning them for a while"

"So, what do you think of all the visitors, Em?"

"I'm not sure... The Mahoutokoro kids all wear those different color robes, but they seem nice. And I thought the whole thing they did with using magic to make that electric ball sing our school song was so cool! But I don't know about the Ilvermorny students."

"You don't like them?"

"It's not that, it's just… they seem rather scary. All that fighting stuff they did when they first entered the Great Hall? What if… What if they tried to do that to you, or me?"

"Well don't worry about a thing. You've got your big brother right here, and if those Americans do anything that makes you uncomfortable, you can bet I'll be there to show them what happens when they mess with my little sister! I'll always protect you, Emmy."

Whack!

A certain dark-haired boy dramatically groaned from his sister's semi-painful punch to his gut. It was after dinner now and the feast had long since ended, but once again, Jack was walking Emma back up to Gryffindor Tower. He'd been doing this every day after dinnertime in fact. Other than chance meetings in between classes, it's the one time of day that they got spend time together.

"Ow!" Jack loved his sister, so he didn't mind this extra trip up to the seventh floor, but he couldn't deny that the experience would be much more pleasant if Emma learned to take a joke. Seriously, would it kill her not to bruise him every time? "Okay, you've gotta stop doing that, Emma. It's getting old really fast."

Emma narrowed her eyes. "Stop calling me that awful nickname and maybe I will."

"Oh, come on! 'Emmy' is a cute, sweet nickname. It's not like I'm calling you something insulting. So, what's the big deal?"

"The big deal Jack is that you don't respect the fact that I hate being treated like a five-year-old!"

"Well, I happened to like you when you were five, Emma. Whatever happened to that sweet little girl, hmm? She used to toddle around and chase after me on those pudgy legs of hers all over the farm. 'Jackie! Jackie!'" the teenager called out, imitating his sister's high-pitched voice as he bounced about in place just like Emma used to do when she was little. 'Uppie! Uppie! I want uppie!'"

Emma's face was as scarlet as her Gryffindor robes. She started frantically looking around from left to right. Assured that no one was around to have witnessed that embarrassing spectacle, the eleven-year-old's head snapped back around to face her brother. "You! You ever do that again, and I'll make you regret it!"

Jack laughed. "Sure, you will, Em. Sure, you will…"

"I'm serious!"

"And just what would be your great revenge scheme, huh? What could you possibly do to me?"

There was a brief paused as Emma considered this, but then, to Jack's complete surprise, she sneakily smirked. "I'll convince everyone you know here to start calling you Jackson Overland Frost. The full thing."

The cocky teen's grin was instantly wiped away. "You wouldn't."

"Try me."

The dark-haired boy stared flabbergasted at his kid sister. After the longest pause imaginable, Jack finally looked away from Emma, his steps down the hall turned somewhat into pouting stomps instead. He folded his arms and sulked.

Emma on the other hand appeared quite pleased with her choice of play. "Aww," she drawled in a high-pitched voice, pulling a long face, "my poor Jacky-wacky pulling a tempy-trum?"

"'A tempy-trum?'" he repeated critically.

"It's like a cross between a tantrum and a temper."

"Seriously?"

"Well, I'm sorry. Not all of us are proficient in speaking idiot."

"Excuse me, young lady, I would have you know that I might be the smartest prankster that this school as ever—"

"Good evening, Miss Fat Lady," said Emma abruptly to the portrait on the wall. This interruption earned her a miffed expression from her older brother. Well, serves his little obnoxiousness right. "How are you today?"

The corners of the Fat Lady's oil painted lips turned upwards into a kind smile. "I'm quite well, thank you, Little One. Back once again with the Slytherin brother, I see."

Scowling once at Emma, Jack's sour mien morphed into mock delight. "You bet I am, good madam, and I'm still waiting for a peek at the legendary Gryffindor Tower. Think you could, you know, grant me a little peek? Just for a minute?"

The Fat Lady fixed him with a knowing look, then angled her head to Emma. "The password?"

The boy turned expectantly to the small girl at his side. "Go on, Em. Say the password."

"Leave and I will."

Jack drew a mock look of disbelief. "Really? You're going to deny your only brother an up close look at your common room? How did I ever end up with such a cruel little sister?"

"Your theatrics aren't nearly as funny as you think they are Jack." Emma groaned and rolled her eyes at the display. "I'm not like some people who'd let anyone into their common rooms whenever they please."

"Oh?" Jack suddenly had a somber feeling that he might know what she might be alluding to.

"Are you two quite done?" the Fat Lady interjected, making both of the Overland's turn back to her. "I may be two-dimensional and completely made of dried oil, but that doesn't mean I don't have other things to do."

"Oh, right." At least Emma had the decency to look guilty. "Sorry about that."

Jack sighed and affectionately ruffled her straight brown hair. "Alright, if that's how you're gonna be. I'll see you tomorrow, all right?"

"'Kay." She battered his hand away.

"Sleep tight, then… Emmy."

And then as fast as a gust of wind, he dashed back down the hall in the direction of the grand staircase, chuckling all the while. Screams of indignation that erupted from Emma's mouth echoed down the hall, and he only chuckled more shamelessly. He'd pay dearly for it tomorrow, but it was totally worth it.

Jack started making his way down the marble staircase, only to curse out loud when the stairs suddenly shifted its course, changing from the landing with a nearby hidden passageway to the landing near the main staircase. The moving staircases at Hogwarts had fascinated him when he was a first year. They never stayed in one place for more than ten minutes at a time. But now, as an exhausted fourth year who was quite eager to get back to his common room after a long, tiring day of school, their ever-shifting direction was a major annoyance. Now he'd have to go all the way down to the Entrance Hall via the stairs rather than take the usual shortcut. If Emma were here, she'd say it'd serve him right.

He made his way to the next floor, sour thoughts clouding his mind. He was so preoccupied, that he nearly rammed straight into someone hurrying up the stairs at that exact same moment. Of course, he wasn't the only one at fault, for said other person also wasn't paying attention to her surroundings. Just a few seconds before the deadly 'smack!', she looked up, yelped, and scampered several steps back down the stairs to put some distance between them.

Jack blinked as the girl's features came into focus. "Oh, hey. We meet again."

The elusive Muggle-born princess of Slytherin House stared at him with wide eyes from her place a few steps down the stairs.

"We've never introduced ourselves before, right?" Getting over his momentary surprise first, Jack smiled kindly at the platinum blonde-haired girl. "I'm Jack. Jack Frost."

He stuck out his hand to the blonde girl, but she did not take it. If anything, she seemed repulsed by it. A flash of fear had appeared in her eyes. Jack was puzzled by her reaction, but he had no time to comment on it, for as quickly as the fear had come, it disappeared again. Elsa's expression changed to that of strict regality befitting her station.

He still had his hand outstretched to her, but she chose to disregard it and instead dipped down into a polite curtsy.

"Princess Elsa of Arendelle. It's lovely to meet you. Have a good evening."

Jack remained befuddled as the girl carefully wove her way past him, almost sprinting all the way up to the seventh floor. There was no pause in her gait, and soon she had disappeared from sight.

Curiosity overcame Jack as he watched Elsa go. Previous plans to return to the common room were promptly discarded as he stealthily trailed after her. He stuck to the shadows, following her down the torch-lit corridor with such stealth that it deeply pleased the prankster within him. He couldn't imagine why she would be here, since Anna never came back to the Gryffindor common room until curfew was nearly over. No, she was more likely to turn up at the Slytherin common room herself, waiting for her sister.

Perhaps this was not yet known to the elder princess of Arendelle? But she should know it if she had been speaking to her sister enough, so that didn't make sense either. Nonetheless, like the good Samaritan that Slytherins rarely were, Jack decided to pick up the pace a little. Perhaps he could save the girl a trip.

That was, until she spun in the completely opposite direction, away from the corridor leading to the portrait of the Fat Lady.

If not to the Gryffindor rooms, then where was Elsa off to this late at night?

The platinum blonde made a sudden turn around the next corner, and Jack hung back a second to ensure that she wouldn't spot him before stepping out around the bend himself. To Jack's surprise, Elsa wasn't hurrying down this corridor as she had been the rest of the way here.

Instead, she seemed to be pacing back and forth down the stone-paved hall in front of a rather large tapestry. Her actions completely befuddled her male Slytherin housemate, but it wasn't as if he could ask – not without revealing himself at least. At one point, when her gaze almost just aligned with his position, he leapt behind the safety of the cornered wall, even moving back a few additional paces so that his shadow wouldn't show.

For a little while, Jack simply crouched there as he puzzled over what Elsa could be doing. Why was she pacing like that? Why in front of that particular tapestry?

He poked his head out to check on the Muggle-born princess, but to Jack's astonishment, she had completely vanished without a trace.

But how? He'd only looked away for a few seconds. Even if she had seemingly decided to continue on down the hall, he would have seen her walking further down the corridor. But she was just gone. Disappeared, in the blink of an eye.

Jack had no idea what to make of this. Though a Slytherin like him, Elsa was still undoubtedly the brightest witch of their year. She might be a loner and as far as he knew didn't have any friends, but Jack knew that she always got the highest marks out of any other fellow fourth years whenever homework was turned in or when tests were graded. Had she maybe sensed him following her and cast some sort of invisibility charm on herself? If that was the case, she was definitely some sort of magical prodigy at spell casting.

But wait… weren't invisibility cloaks the only way for people to become completely invisible to the eye? Sure, there were a couple spells out there that made people see-through, but it was still possible to vaguely make out a person's body outline if one looked carefully enough. That wasn't the case here. There was no trace whatsoever of Princess Elsa of Arendelle.

The trickster Slytherin boy pondered there a little while longer, but when it became evident that she would not appear again, he sighed and headed back down the moving staircase. He'd wonder about the mystery of the Crown Princess of Arendelle another time. It was late, and he had to get back to his common room… at least for now, that is.

As he made his way back to the dungeons, he mused over the odds of him being caught sneaking a little snack from the kitchens. The house elves working down there might even be willing to do him a small favor by baking and delivering a tasty blueberry muffin to the Gryffindor common room tomorrow morning. Emma would love waking up to such a nice surprise. She loved blueberry muffins.

Upon reaching the dungeons and mumbling out the password to the stone wall entryway, Jack shuffled his way into the Slytherin common room.

"—can't believe those Mahoutokoro students did that—"

"—electricity, such a Muggle concept—"

"—disgraceful, that what they are. They're disgracing wizard-kind. Thank Merlin that the Ministry would never let such ideas—"

There weren't many people hanging around in the common room tonight, but there were enough to make the remainder in the green and silver room akin to a gossiping nest of snakes. The primary subject of tonight of course was the 'shocking, atrocious, downright immoral' display from the visiting students from Japan. Jack personally thought that the presentation the Mahoutokoro students did by mixing electricity and magic together was ingenious, but his opinion didn't matter clearly, so he didn't bother to make it known.

If nothing else, the new scandal brought some attention off the little Gryffindor who had once again opted to haunt the Slytherin halls. This time, she was sitting with Hans in front of the fireplace instead of being situated at a study table. The redheaded prince was still intent in his studies, gaze fixed on one of his many textbooks. He was barely listening to the girl who shared the couch with him, but Anna didn't seem to mind, and took his 'hmms' and brief nods as satisfactory.

Jack groaned. It wasn't that he didn't like the girl, but she had no place in the Slytherin Common Room, or Slytherin anything. Even though her excuse was always to find her sister, it was obvious that Anna enjoyed Hans' company too in manner that was rapidly tilting towards an uncomfortable zone. She was too young, and too vulnerable to the biting spite that the members of this house would be too willing to provide. As for Hans, he shouldn't be encouraging this either. The prince should have alerted her of the dangers, and indeed, should have put a stop to the blossoming infatuation for itself. But Hans had been pretty self-absorbed these days, and perhaps the plight of the young Gryffindor had not occurred to him.

Where was the elder princess of Arendelle when one needed her?

"Evening, Hans, Anna," he said, flopping down on the sofa next to them as he did so.

His action caused both redheads to bounce a bit in their seats. Anna giggled and smiled cheerfully to him, but Hans dropped his book in surprise. Upon losing his place in the textbook, he threw the dark-haired boy a bitter scowl.

"Was that really necessary?" the prince asked, scooping his copy of A History of Magic off the carpet. He hastily flipped through its pages, trying to find where he'd been at before.

Jack merely flashed his royal buddy a jaunty wink. "Of course it was, Hansy. How else should I have sat down?"

"By sitting down calmly. Like any other normal person."

"Aw, but that way's so boring! No fun at all!"

Hans rolled his eyes as Anna giggled again. "Hi, Jack! Good to see you again!"

"Yeah, you too, Anna. Did you enjoy the feast?"

"I sure did! The American students look really tough, what with all those fighting moves they did back in the Great Hall. Very tough!" Her eyes were as wide as saucers, and she gestured wildly. "And the students from Japan? I've never seen anything like that before. That was so, so cool! The feast afterwards was pretty good, too. I had so many delicious sandwiches, and I stuffed myself with chocolate for dessert. The other Gryffindors actually had to take the chocolate tray away from me before I ate it all."

Jack chuckled at her long ramble. "You must really love chocolate."

"Uh-huh! I wish I could live on chocolate!"

"Don't we all?" the Frost boy asked. "Emmy would eat nothing but muffins for the rest of her life in a heartbeat if she could."

Anna laughed again. She was prepared to comment on that statement, asking Jack what types of muffins his sister liked, but then a handful of words from another conversation caught their ears.

"Embarrassment's, that's what those Mahoutokoro's are. Embarrassment's to our kind."

"Of course they are! What's wrong with that headmaster of theirs? He's teaching kids to mix our world with the filthy Muggle world!"

"Still, you two can't deny that those Japanese girls looked good. They have a certain… how should I say… spark to them."

"Quit it with the lame puns, Rider."

"Yeah, shut it."

Jack and Anna both turned. Sitting in some of the arm chairs in the far corner of the common room were the cruel Stabbington brother's and the cocky Flynn Rider. The older red-haired twins were mostly just throwing shade left, right, center about the Japanese students' presentation like the rest of the Slytherins in the common room. Flynn Rider himself however was no doubt just there to see if he could insult the duo without them realizing, as he often did. But this time, his attention appeared to have been split between prodding his two cronies and reading a curious sheet of parchment.

Truth be told, Jack didn't think Flynn Rider wasn't all that bad of a guy, but that didn't mean that he was good either. He flirted shamelessly with every mildly attractive girl that passed his way, but he wasn't the type to demean them – unless they were on the Gryffindor Quidditch team, of course. He was generally polite and cheery to anyone he met, but he still hung out excessively with the brutish Ron and Jon Stabbington, who were the polar opposites of polite and cheery. Very little about Flynn Rider made sense, which was what made him a mystery. The problem with mysteries was that one could never really tell what they were up to.

"You guys are a really horrid bunch, aren't you?"

The Muggle-born boy blinked, and glanced back down at Anna. She was full out scowling at the trio, utterly disgusted by what she had heard.

"Ignore them, Anna," Hans mumbled, nose still firmly in his textbook. "They're not worth it."

Jack nodded. "Yeah, listen to Carrot-top here. They're just being jerks."

The girl wasn't appeased. "Well then, it seems like someone ought to teach them some manners!"

Jack tensed at that. That didn't sound good. If Anna was possibly planning to mouth out to two of the biggest blood purists in Slytherin house, that wouldn't end well. For her, for him… he had to get her out of the dungeons. And fast.

"Geez, look at the time!" he said in a forcefully cheerful voice. "You better get back to Gryffindor Tower, Anna. I'll walk you out."

He tried to gently tug the little princess to her feet so he could steer her to the door, but Anna refused to budge from her seat beside Hans.

"What are you talking about, Jack? It's not that late. I still have some time before curfew starts. Hey, you two!" Anna yelled at the Stabbington's, pointing a stubby little finger at them. "What's your problem with Maho- Maho—" fumbling slightly "—that Japanese school? Hmm? Their presentation with electricity was awesome! I don't see either of you doing anything half as remarkable as them!"

Jack blanched in horror. Even Hans's head snapped up from his textbook to stare at her. Every Slytherin in the common room had similar expressions on their faces. All eyes were trained on the Gryffindor. Then, one by one, their expressions morphed into scowls, and some had begun hissing sharply at one another.

Anna was puzzled by this response, but before she could say anything, the Stabbingtons exchanged looks, before making their way towards her. The little princess shuddered under their unkind gazes, instinctively scooting closer to Hans and Jack on the sofa. Hans immediately snapped his book shut and reached for his wand. Jack automatically stood up and shielded Anna behind him as best as he could from the twins' view. This could get ugly fast.

"Well, well, well, seems like the little cub believes she's a full grown lion," remarked Ron, a cruel glint in his eyes as he peered around the older boy for the girl. "She thinks she can hold her own against us vipers."

Anna huffed indignantly at that. "Well, of course I can! You think you can get away with—"

"Yes, yes, we all know you and your idiot brother think you're king cobras here in Slytherin," the Overland Frost boy said quickly, rolling his eyes. "You think you have the venom to back up your snake bites. Yet, no one's ever seen you bite all that hard now, have they? Your poisons wouldn't even give someone an upset stomach."

The twins scowled, and Jack took that as his chance to abruptly seize hold of Anna's wrist and roughly pull her off the couch.

"Ow! Jack—!"

"We're leaving. Now."

Anna was alarmed, but Jack didn't give her the chance to protest. He just dragged her behind him as he trudged past his fellow Slytherins to the common room exit. He gripped his staff tightly in his other hand, just in case.

"Looking out for the lost little lion cub, Frosty? Not very Slytherin of you, is it?"

Snickers from all the onlookers echoed throughout the room. Jack's ears burned in anger. He wanted more than anything to just use his staff and cast levicorpus on them both, let the two jerks see what it felt like to be publicly humiliated when they were both hanging upside down in the air by their ankles, but he couldn't do that right now. Not with little Anna now clinging to his wrist and looking at him with such big, confused eyes.

"Well, being too Slytherin has a way of making one too snake-like," he shot back, fearlessly and with no hesitation whatsoever. "Poisonous, cold, and a molting-skin-sort-of ugly."

Flynn was the only one in the room to snort in amusement. Others just gave the Muggle-born boy cold looks of disapproval. The Stabbingtons both went red with fury.

"I'd watch your tongue if I were you, Frost," snarled Ron Stabbington, the brother with a small scar near his chin. "You never know what might happen."

"Go ahead. Do your worst." Jack merely smirked in return. "But mess with me, Anna, or my sister, and you might wake up one day only to discover your mattresses have mysteriously moved overnight to be floating out in the middle of the Black Lake. Can't imagine you two acting all that tough when you're splashing back to shore in your underpants."

This time, Jack's remark brought forth a few snickers from other Slytherins, who must have found the image entertaining. Even Anna bit her lower lip to keep from giggling too loudly.

The Stabbington's were anything but amused though. "One of these days, Frost, you're gonna regret being such a cocky little shit!" snapped the other twin, Jon. Unlike Ron, he had no scars on his face, but instead a black eyepatch covered his left eye, and the one exposed eye was glaring daggers at Jack.

Jack's smirk only grew in size until it was that of a conceited grin. "Keep telling yourselves that. It'll give you morons something to dream about the next time you zone out in class."

He stuck on his tongue condescendingly at the enraged red-haired twins and turned to leave. He'd throw out more insults at them another time. Right now, he had to see his sister's friend safely out.

"Do what you like, Frost," he heard one of the Stabbingtons snarl, "but you two will never be anything more than filthy Mudbloods!"

Jack immediately halted in his tracks, his grips on both his staff and Anna's wrist growing considerably tighter. Out of the corner of his corner of his eye, he noticed Hans throwing him a somewhat sympathetic look. Jack hardly even acknowledged it.

It took all the willpower the fourteen-year-old possessed to suppress his fury, especially when everyone else in the common room started spitting out that foul word with just as much venom.

Aside from Hans, almost every pure-blood and even a fair share of half-bloods in Slytherin had insulted him for his apparently shameful Muggle bloodline more times than he could count. Jack wasn't embarrassed of his parentage in the slightest. He barely remembered anything at all about his father so he didn't count, but Jack loved his mother dearly, and the only person he knew he loved even more than her was Emma. It wasn't his fault his folks were ordinary people. It would have been cool to have grown up in a wizarding family, but if it meant giving up his Muggle mother, Jack would never pick it.

"Yeah, that's right," he countered, making sure not to sound the slightest bit ashamed of himself as he did so. "And so what if we are? At least we don't look like Azkaban escapees."

Anna was glancing back and forth between him and the cruel Stabbington twins in obvious confusion. She had no idea what was going on, as no one had ever taken the time to explain to her the concept of blood purity in the Wizarding world, let alone what Azkaban was. But Jack couldn't worry about that right now. Not when that last comment seemed to infuriate the two assholes even more.

"You calling us common crooks, Frost?!" growled Ron.

Jack only smirked triumphantly. "Well, with your ugly faces and oh-so-pleasant personalities, I think dementors would make themselves sick with your souls. They'd all be gagging when they try giving you both a few good kisses."

"Prick!" roared Jon.

"They'd rather snog Mudblood trash than us any day!" shouted Ron.

"Well, I'm a pretty good snogger!" Jack yelled back. Well, he hasn't technically tried, but, you know, he'd probably do it just fine.

Flynn Rider, still on the sidelines, just appeared highly amused.

"Rider, our wands!" demanded Jon. The two brothers both thrusted out their hands back at him.

The brunette fellow sighed dramatically as he removed the wands from his sleeves and handed them over. Immediately after they took them, he threw himself back against his armchair and continued studying his parchment, nonchalant about the eminent battle.

As the bullies pointed their wands directly at their foe, Jack kept his staff at the ready. He wasn't one to back down from a fight. Especially not when he was protecting someone.

Everyone in the common room watched eagerly at the showdown about to happen. A few kids even had the gall to cheer the Stabbington brothers on. It was always fun for to watch a fellow Slytherin teach a filthy Muggle-born their place.

"Say your prayers, Mudblood!"

"Any last words, Frost?!"

Jack smirked, and then mockingly tapped his ear as though he hadn't heard them. "Sorry, what was that? I don't speak idiot."

The Stabbington's faces both turned as red as their hair, and with two furious yells, they both shouted out the names of their intended spells.

"Incendio!"

"Locomotor Mortis!"

Jack had raised his staff to shout out a counter-curse, but his words were muffled by two ear-splitting booms. The next thing he knew, Ron Stabbington was screaming at the top of his lungs as he fumbled with his wand to stop the fire from continuing to pour out of it and lighting his pants up. Jon Stabbington had dropped his wand and was hopping around in place in a desperate effort to separate his legs from his own Leg-Locker Curse.

Jack, Anna, and just about every other person in the common started roaring with laughter. For some bizarre reason, it appeared as though the Stabbington twins' spells had backfired on them instead of hitting Jack.

"Merlin's beard! Put it out! Put it out!" Ron screamed, now trying to beat out the fire with the hem of his robes.

"Rider! Do something!" Jon snapped. He barely managed to shout this before he toppled face-first on the ground.

But Flynn was in no rush to help his so-called friends. He had fallen off his chair and was now rolling on the floor from how hard he was laughing.

"Oh… Oh, wow…! Wow!" he managed to choke out as tears began to flow down his face. "You… You dorks didn't check to see if… I mixed up your wands…? Wow!"

"You did this intentionally?!"

"N-No! I just… I just wasn't looking when I passed them to you guys!" Flynn gasped. He tried to find the strength to stop laughing and stand up to help them, but another round of fresh laughter escaped his lips, and seconds later, he had tripped over himself and fell a second time. When he fell this time though, the parchment he'd been reading prior to all this slipped out of his hand, and floated a little too close to the fire spreading across the elder twins' pants. It caught ablaze within seconds before it touched the ground.

Pausing only to stomp his foot down repeatedly on the burning remains of the paper to prevent the whole common room from burning down, Flynn grabbed his wand and then muttered a few choice words to douse out the flames from one brothers' pants and then to undo the curse on the other. Jack would have loved to stay and watch the obvious yelling unfold as the Stabbington's took out their frustrations on their blasé friend, but it was that moment that Hans appeared next to him.

The prince jerked his head in the direction of the exit. "Let's go, before they come to their senses," he urged.

He was right, of course. Better to leave now when those idiots had forgotten about him. Jack motioned for Anna to follow them, and he and Hans led the way out of the basement hangout, to the stone-paved dungeon corridor.

Once they were all safely outside and the wall slid shut behind them, Hans rounded on Jack before the other boy could so much as blink. "I always knew you were reckless, but you really have no sense at all in that head of yours. What were you thinking?"

Jack gave his friend a hard look in return. "What, you didn't think I was just going to stand there and take that, did you?"

"That's exactly what you should have done. Pretty much everyone in Slytherin is against you, Jack. Don't give them any reason to hate you more."

"Hey, I didn't start that fight."

"Doesn't matter. Next time just—"

"They'd called us Mudbloods, Hans. They crossed the line."

With that, Hans fell silent. He couldn't think up anything to say that could counter that honest remark.

Anna had no clue what the problem was, and she could no longer stay silent. "What's so bad about that, Jack? What's a Mudblood?"

Jack tensed. He really didn't want to be the one to have to explain the concepts of blood purity to Anna. She was such a sweet girl and still saw the Wizarding world as he once did before he was sorted into Slytherin. Let her stay ignorant of the prejudices for a while. Anyway, it was her sisters' place to teach her those things in the magical world, not his. He'd explained bits and pieces to Emma already, and he didn't look forward to when he revealed the really nasty bits.

"It's a bad word towards people like you and me, Anna. They were insulting us, that's all."

Anna blinked, thoroughly puzzled. "What do you mean?"

Jack sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "It's… Look, you should ask your sister about this. She'll explain it to you."

Anna frowned, but shrugged his words. "All right, fine. I'll ask her when she arrives."

She tried to slip around him to tell the seemingly ordinary stone wall the Slytherin password, but Hans immediately held out his arm to stop her.

"Actually, Anna, you should really be heading back up to Gryffindor."

"But why? Curfew doesn't start for at least another hour. I know it'll take forever to climb back upstairs to Gryffindor Tower, but I can wait for a little longer."

She tried to wiggle her way around her crush again, but Hans merely shook his head and stopped her a second time.

"No, you should go back now," he told her firmly. He nodded towards the false stone wall. "Those boys inside? The Stabbingtons? They're probably still mad. You don't want to end up hexed, do you?"

"Oh, no! Definitely not!" she exclaimed, eyes going wide at the thought. There was a brief pause, then her cheeks flushed pink as she smiled shyly up at the upperclassman. "Thank you for looking out for me, Hans. It's really nice of you – b-both of you, I mean—" she quickly corrected herself, nervously chuckling a bit. "—to spend time with me whenever I come down here. You're both been such great friends to me."

Hans' lips turned upwards into a charming smile. "It's no trouble, Anna. No trouble at all."

Jack frowned. He would never have thought he'd need to, but apparently Hans needed a lesson in what it meant to draw boundaries, especially for young, feckless, impressionable kids that were so obviously pining after him.

"You know, you don't have to keep visiting us down here if you want to hang out," the brunette boy said in the friendliest tone he could muster. "If you see us in the halls, you can stop and chat with us. That way you can head up with Emma to Gryffindor after dinner from now on."

Anna frowned at him. "But if I don't keep coming down here, how else am I ever gonna get a chance to see Elsa? What if she comes to the common room when I'm not here? I haven't talked to her since before we got here, you know."

"What?" said Jack, astounded. "You haven't even seen your sister at all since back in London?"

With a sad sigh, Anna nodded, her gaze shifting down towards her feet. "Not even in the Great Hall or in the hallways."

Jack couldn't believe what he was hearing. Once again, the Crown Princess of Arendelle confounded him. Why hasn't she come to find her sister? As an older sibling himself, he was well aware of his duties, and he carried them out pretty willingly, not that he'd ever let Emma know that. There was something very peculiar about Elsa's behavior – and 'peculiar' was just a nicer word for 'irresponsible.'

"Well, if you need anything at all, don't be a stranger," he told her. "I'm more than happy to lend a helping hand if need it."

"Thanks, Jack. I'll be sure to remember that," she told him gratefully. Then, with a shy smile and rosy cheeks, she turned to look up at Hans. "Can I come to you too, Hans? You've been just as kind to me as Jack has, after all."

"Sure, if that's what you want."

"It is. Well, I guess I should get going. See you both later!"

Grinning widely at the teen boys, Anna turned and walked away down the corridor, heading back to the Entrance Hall. Just before she turned the corner though, she glanced back at the older Slytherins she had befriended, and waved before vanishing into the labyrinth of the castle dungeons.

As soon as she was gone, Hans let a deep breath that Jack hadn't even realized his friend had been holding in. "She's a handful, that kid. Nice girl, but a real handful…"

"If you don't like her, you don't have to entertain her whenever she drops by," Jack told him, hoping that the redhead would get the hint. "Just let her sit and wait for her sister by herself if you want."

"That wouldn't be very chivalrous," Hans objected, bearing a rueful expression. "I'll admit her constant chattering while I'm studying is a little annoying, but I'm not opposed to talking to her. Now come on, let's go back in. I've gotta finish Urg the Unclean's involvement in the 18th century goblin rebellion. For that paper we were assigned in History of Magic today, you know. You should really get started too, Jack. You're gonna fall behind if you don't."

"I'll work on it later, Hans. Sheesh…"

Hans sighed, exasperated by Jack's carefree attitude towards grades. "Fine, but don't blame me if you flunk out of school."

"Only if you agree to me making a long speech in your eulogy about what a boring workaholic you are when you finally drop dead from all this studying."

That earned him a partial glare from the prince, but Hans didn't rise to the bait this time. Other than the quick scowl, he just whispered the password to the concealed entryway back into their common room.

Jack let out a thoughtful puff, blowing his hair out of his eyes. The youngest Prince of the Southern Isles seriously needed to learn how to lighten up. He never seemed amused by his jokes. And how could this guy be so oblivious to Anna's very obvious crush on him? For all the times people had always called him – Jack Frost – an idiot in the past, it was rather sad to him that this time it was Hans who was the dummy.

But then his prior conversation with Anna came to mind. Jack didn't know Elsa at all, other than her name, her appearance, and her reputation to be as a frosty as a blizzard. The two times he had mistakenly run into her these past two weeks was probably the most he had ever spoke to her in the past four years.

If what Anna said before was true… then, well, something needed to be done about it. He might be a Muggle-born farm boy with no great heritage to his name, but heck, he had principles.

It was right then that Jack made an important decision.

It was high time that someone had a nice long chat with the mysterious Crown Princess of Arendelle regarding her treatment of her little sister.