The sorting began again, as it had the year before, but this year the six friends sat together at the Hufflepuff table (they had attempted to sit at the Gryffindor table, but the anti-pure bloods had looked as though they were looking for a fight) and as they watched the sorting Enjolras and Combeferre muttered about who looked like they might be a good member of the company. Only one student was acceptable in Combeferre's opinion. A first year girl, just sorted into Gryffindor, who went by the name Eponine. Everyone else just simply didn't meet the standard for "aggressive revolution planning" as Enjolras put it.

When the ceremony was over, Courfeyrac went over to her at Enjolras' direction. "Hello. My name's Courfeyrac. Second year Hufflepuff. I saw you at the sorting, and I was wondering if you might like to sit with me and my friends?"

"Ah. . . thank you, but aren't we supposed to sit with our houses?" Eponine replied, turning away.

"My friends and I. . . we don't keep to those rules very well, and no one tries to stop us. Please, we'd love to have you."

"If you're sure I won't get in trouble?"

"I promise."


As it turned out, Eponine was almost a revolutionary as Enjolras, and she loved the ideas of the group. Everyone took to her, and she agreed that this rule breaking was perfectly acceptable.

And so began a few long months of happiness. Enjolras and Eponine got on splendidly. She, being a muggleborn, was able to protect Enjolras from the anti-pureblood students who sought to torment him in a more- shall we say, diplomatic- way than Bahorel, which gave Bahorel some time to practice quidditch, which in turn made Bahorel captain of the Gryffindor team.

"Congrats!" Shouted Courfeyrac when Bahorel walked into their meeting hall that day.

"We're so happy for you!" added Combeferre,

"You're going to be great!" said Jehan with a smile. "I'll braid your hair back before the matches."

Grantaire raised a bottle of Butter Beer in Bahorel's general direction, but didn't say anything. Courfeyrac had confiscated the sixth year's supply of Fire Whisky and replaced it with large amounts of Butter Beer. Grantaire didn't seem to mind all that much.

Eponine embraced Bahorel, "Good job."

Enjolras was the only one who didn't acknowledge Bahorel at all. He was staring out the window, the book he had been reading hanging limply from his hand.

"Enjolras? Come congratulate Bahorel." Courfeyrac looked at the blond boy, looking for some indication of what was going on. "Earth to Enjolras . . ." He waved his hand in front of Enjolras' nose.

Enjolras blinked. "What? Sorry, I was just thinking- we're going to need somewhere new to meet."

"What are you talking about? The library's fine." Combeferre said, pushing his glasses up with a frown.

"Congratulate Bahorel." Eponine said sternly.

"Hmm? Yes, of course. Congratulations."

"Enjolras. What is going on?" Bahorel said, "Are you cross with me? Is someone bullying you?"

"No, no. The uh… entirety of the female student body and most of the males as well seem to be descending on us."

"What?" Shouted Courfeyrac. "The love potion wasn't supposed to work!"

Combeferre turned beet red. Enjolras' brow drew together. Eponine paled. Bahorel laughed and looked like he might strangle Courf. Grantaire was the only one to remain calm.

"Gentlemen, and Lady, may I suggest running?"