And another story... you may be wondering what the actual f is wrong with you doze? And you would be right. *cries*

If you wanna get my aesthetic for this story, you'll have to listen to She's Kinda Hot by Five Seconds of Summer and probably High School Never Ends by Bowling for Soup. Anything that's high school trash though. I'm trying to remember what I was even like when I was fourteen, haha? (I turned 19 a couple days ago...)

For clarity's sake:

Alfred is fourteen and a Hufflepuff. Matthew is also fourteen and a Hufflepuff. Arthur is sixteen and a Gryffindor. Francis is sixteen and a Ravenclaw.

Disclaimer: I have not read HP for some time now. Please forgive me for any errors! But feel free to point them out.

Disclaimer 2: Arthur is a bit of a dick... but give it a chance, eh? You never know what'll happen. ;)

This fic is dedicated to Zeplerfer and their awesome goal to write Alfie and Artie in all the different houses! Check out her stuff!

Much love to you all, doze!

"Are you sure about this, Alfred? I'm sure it wouldn't cost that much more to go in and have this done somewhere?"

Alfred rolled his eyes impatiently. "I didn't buy the gun for nothing, Matt. And I didn't invite you over to stand there! Come on!"

Matthew scowled, shifting the bargain piercing gun from hand to hand. They were both in muggle clothing, shorts and sneakers, in the heat of July. He had agreed to visit Alfred in Florida over break, but now he was really wishing he had stuck with Montreal. It was hot here!

"Why do you want your ears pierced so badly all of a sudden? You're just asking for them to add a new rule at Hogwarts or something," Matthew muttered, setting the gun down on the dresser.

"I told ya already, Matt." Alfred sprawled backwards on his twin bed, reaching to pull his wand out from under his pillow. "I'm remaking my image this year. I'm gonna try out for the Quidditch team, not get stuck in a sucky Beater position again. I'm gonna do my hair different. All cool like." He whipped his hands around his head. "I got a girl's spellbook for doing hair. What could go wrong?"

Matthew smiled slightly, but said nothing. Something could definitely go wrong, and he wanted to see it when it did. "Jeez, Al, who you trying to impress? Wanna take someone to the ball this year?"

Alfred scowled, "Don't make fun of me, dipwad. I saw you macking with that girly French boy last year. Gross."

Matthew reddened, throwing the piercing gun at Alfred's chest. "He was tutoring me. We were in the library. He's a smart guy, and honestly your dumb ass could use his help."

"My dumb ass doesn't care about History of Magic. That's all." Alfred retorted, not even wanting to think about his barely passing grades in every subject but Defense.

Matthew smirked, "Well don't expect a sixth year to notice you for your brilliance then."

Alfred sat up, fixing Matthew with a glare. "A sixth year?"

"Oh yeah, Al, act innocent." Matthew smirked.

"I seriously have no idea what you're talking about."

Matthew shrugged, "Fine then. I heard Kirkland was planning on transferring to Durmstrang this semester anyway."

"What? He's transferring! He's never said anything about that in the dining hall."

"Since when do you sit with him in the dining hall?" Matthew smirked in amusement.

"They're Gryffindors," Alfred grumbled. "I overhear things. They talk loud."

"Right," Matthew rolled his eyes. "Give over, Al. You've had the biggest thing for him since second year when he held your hand."

"He wasn't holding my hand!" Sparks actually flew from the end of Alfred's wand and he tossed it away moodily. "He was making sure I wouldn't get lost again after I wandered into their Transfiguration class on accident. He's just a nice guy, Matt."

Matthew rolled his eyes, "Yeah, a really nice guy, who thinks of no one but himself."

"Hey, that isn't true," Alfred protested. "In second year, he was totally helping me find my class."

"Cuz Professor McGonagall ordered him to," Matthew rolled his eyes again. "Jeez, Al, half the time I think he doesn't even know Hufflepuff exists. It's like we're some extension of the house elves. He actually dumped his cloak on top of Toris once. Thought he was a coat rack!"

"That's cuz we let ourselves get run over," Alfred pointed out. "Which is exactly why you need to pierce my ears. I'll show 'em all that Hufflepuff is the coolest house at Hogwarts."

Matthew flinched. "Alfred, I think everybody would prefer it if you didn't."

"Shut up, Matthew."

Ultimately, Alfred didn't get his ears pierced. His mom found the piercing gun in his room and it was all over from there. He was certain there was a more painless way to do it with magic, but he even he wasn't brave enough to go looking for it. He could just imagine all the horrific things he might accidentally do to his ears.

This year he was particularly looking forward to returning to Hogwarts. Despite Matthew's annoying jabs, he had determined that he would at least once successfully hit on Arthur Kirkland, legendary Gryffindor seeker and top of his sixth year class. If anything it would increase the coolness of Hufflepuff in general by at least a hundred fold. When Alfred had first heard of Hogwarts, he had thought he was destined to end up in Gryffindor with the heroes.

The sorting hat quickly dispelled that illusion. Hufflepuff wasn't bad at all though. All the other houses took themselves too seriously. It was always the Hufflepuff guys chilling in the common room or having Monday night butterbeer fests. Sure, Gryffindor was known for its mythical blow out raves. But Hufflepuffs knew how to keep the good times coming and constant.

Alfred loved the buddies in his house. Matthew and Toris and Lizzy and Ned. They were all great. Homework was of secondary importance, while maintaining friendships always hit first. People never seemed to expect much from their house, so whenever one of their underdogs did manage to succeed everyone always celebrated together.

Yet Alfred couldn't help but look longingly at the Gryffindor table every once in awhile. Hufflepuff Quidditch was almost certainly a joke. Their team floundered around in the air, while the Gryffindors (and the Slytherins and even the Ravenclaws) flew. Occasionally, they got a really motivated captain who could turn things around for a season. But ever since Kirkland had become seeker, their chances were dashed.

He couldn't be more different that Arthur. For one, Arthur was pure blood, and the only child of a prominent wizarding family. Alfred was muggleborn and embraced it, as did Matthew, but it didn't really help their coolness factor when they could be impressed by chocolate frogs. Arthur was freaking smart, too. Alfred loved magic, but he kind of sucked at it. Unless it was magical combat where the adrenaline seemed to do all the work. He was bound to be stuck in Remedial Potions for the rest of his sorry existence.

Arthur was also popular in the most generic worn-out way of using the word. Everybody at Hogwarts knew his name. The seventh years pandered to him, and the teachers were quick to brag about him. All the Quidditch scouters were already looking for his signature. Rumor had it he'd been offered an apprenticeship by the Charms professor for after graduation. Whereas Alfred was constantly called that loud kid that looks like maple syrup boy what was that country... Canada?

He could count the times he'd spoken to Arthur on one hand. Something about being so near to stardom made his knees go weak. He really regretted some of the things that have come out of his mouth.

And he understood, he did. Someone like Arthur shouldn't even give him the time of day. It didn't help that Matthew and his gang of Hufflepuff friends seem to have it out for Arthur. Oh, they couldn't really hate him. "Hufflepuff" and "hate" were mutually exclusive terms or just about. But they didn't like him.

Alfred didn't understand why. Kirkland was going out there winning Quidditch cups and Outstanding OWLS and probably illegally entered Triwizard Tournaments (if this year was going to be anything like Arthur's last). They should all want to be Kirkland, and it was frankly childish of them to be so jealous.

When September 1st rolled around, Alfred stood on platform nine and three-quarters with his usual crew. Lizzy was chatting amiably with a stony-faced Ravenclaw that he thought was Roderich. Matthew was catching up with Kiku, another Ravenclaw buddy. Ned and Toris, strangely, were with a group of Slytherins, making polite chit-chat. But Alfred wasn't paying attention to them at all.

Standing on his tip-toes, he just managed to catch a glimpse of familiar wild golden hair. His heart jumped and he quickly straightened his sloppy robes, making his way forward. Arthur was surrounded by a crowd of obnoxious Gryffindors. He didn't seem to be making much of an effort to converse with any of them. Alfred had realized from his constant watching of Arthur over the years that he actually got tired of his friends rather quickly.

"Quidditch this season is going to be epic," One of them named Gilbert was expounding enthusiastically. "You feeling at your best, Arthur?"

Arthur snorted, running his green eyes over the lot of them. "I could fly better than you in my sleep Beilschmidt. Don't joke."

The Gryffindors booming laughter all but shook the platform. Alfred laughed along with them, trying to edge closer. But they formed an impenetrable wall around Arthur.

"Okay, Kirkland," Gilbert rolled his eyes. "I'll remember that next time I'm beating a bludger away from your face."

"What'll you remember?" Arthur stretched languidly, adjusting his red and gold tie. He smirked. "That you're in danger of the second years beating you out this season?"

The Gryffindors chimed in with their laughter like a studio audience. Alfred stood on tip toe, slowly pushing his way through. Gilbert didn't actually look very happy with the comment, and he said snidely, "Alright, Arthur. And what's made you king of the hill all of a sudden?"

"All of a sudden?" Arthur raised his eyebrows like Gilbert must be crazy. "Have you been around the last two seasons by any chance? Two busy hitting bludgers with your head, mate? You know that's why you have the bat."

Gilbert opened his mouth to retort, his jaw setting.

"I'd been saving this announcement for another time, but I figure it's relevant now." Arthur looked around at the gathered crowd. "My father's bought me a new broom. Latest model straight off the line. I'll be taking resignations from the other house teams. Save them the trouble of losing. Is that what you're here for?"

Alfred finally fell through the crowd, almost on top of Arthur freaking Kirkland. He backed up breathlessly, staring with wide eyes. Damn it. He couldn't lose his cool now. He'd made it all the way through the entourage.

"Hey," he said, leaning suavely against the train. "That's cool that you got a new broom. You're gonna be like crazy fast now."

Arthur raised his thick eyebrows and looked around at the other Gryffindors. Many of whom were snickering into their palms. "Did you get lost?" Arthur asked him, and he blinked.

"Uhh, what?"

"The first years sit down at that end of the train. Want me to find a prefect to help you out, little guy?"

Alfred flinched. So he hadn't hit his growth spurt yet. Jeez. He didn't notice the other Gryffindors laughing or Arthur's widening smirk.

"No, that's alright, Arthur. I'm a fourth year. I'm in Hufflepuff. I play Quidditch too." He smiled winningly. "You've got some sick moves, alright."

"Oh he thinks your moves are sick!" Gilbert squawked, snickering into his palm. "What do you think of that, Tony?"
"So sick," Antonio chuckled as well. "You want Arthur's autograph, kid? Anybody got a quill? He'll sign your forehead if you say please."

"Uh, that's alright," Alfred held up his hands, laughing nervously with them. "I just wanted to tell him that I love watching him play and-

"Oh, you've got yourself a little 'puffer fan, Art," Antonio elbowed Arthur in the side.

"I suppose I do," Arthur agreed, eyes sparkling in amusement. "What's your name?"


"Alex, right, I've seen you before." Arthur interrupted, scratching the back of his neck. "How's about you track down the food cart and buy me a couple of chocolate frogs?"

"Uh," Alfred opened and closed his mouth. "Yeah, of course, I, sure... Did you have any knuts?"

"Locked in my trunk," Arthur shrugged. "On second thought, get some for my whole compartment. We don't want to have to wait for her to come round. She's getting slower every year." The Gryffindors laughed again, but Alfred frowned thinking of the nice old lady who sold him Pumpkin Pasties for discount price.

"Hey, don't be a jerk to her," He retorted sharply. Arthur's green eyes landed on him with their full force and he felt his stomach flip.

"Just get the frogs, would you, Alex? I'm famished. You can't expect your team to play good Quidditch without keeping their strength up." He tousled Alfred's hair as he walked by, entering the train without another look.

"Alfred," he muttered to himself. "That's okay, Arthur. I'll make sure you remember next time."

"Please don't tell me you're going to get them for him," Matthew sighed after Alfred recounted the story to their train compartment.

"He's treating you like dirt, Al," Lizzy chimed in with her mouthful. "And he thinks it's funny."

"Come on, guys, no he isn't." Alfred stood to pay the shop lady for his hoard of chocolate frogs. "His money was in his trunk, so it was just easier this way. I think he's happy that I'm his fan, too."

Ned groaned low in the back of his throat, and Toris just pressed his fingers to the bridge of his nose.

"Have you thought, Alfred," Kiku murmured in that quiet voice of his. "That it's strange for Arthur to make you pay when you're the poor muggleborn and he's a wealthy pureblood?"

Alfred blinked. "His money was in his trunk. He'll pay me back."

Matthew groaned. "Alfred, for god's sake, Arthur's a jerk. He always gets what he wants. You don't need to roll over for him too. He doesn't even know your name!"

"Stop being a dick, Matthew," Alfred gathered his armload of chocolate frogs and prepared to depart. "You're just jealous because Arthur's got better grades than you do. That and he had no problem landing that French boy you have a thing for-

"Fine, Alfred! Be an idiot!" Matthew exploded. "We go through this every damn year. At some point you have to realize it. So have at it. I'm not going to say anything anymore."

"Good," Alfred retorted, turning on his heel. Matthew may be his best friend, but he didn't understand. Arthur was cool. And they weren't. It was as simple as that. Arthur could act however he wanted to, and he wasn't really being a jerk. Just joking around. Alfred didn't have a snowflakes chance in hell of getting good grades, and his muggleborn status was already going to make it hard for him to find a place in the wizarding world in the future. The least he could do was try to capitalize on some of Arthur's coolness. Even if it meant jumping ship and becoming an unofficial groupie for the Gryffindor Quidditch team.

Alfred exhaled, pushing back his shoulders as he neared the end of the train. The door of Arthur's compartment was opened so he leaned in. "I've got the-

"Geez, what took you so long?" Gilbert jumped him before he could finish the sentence, causing him to spill frog packages all over the floor. "Careful. Or they'll all get out!" Gilbert cuffed him over the ear as he bent to pick them up. "Wouldn't want to be the only firstie left on the train before Sorting, would ya? You'd have to clean 'em all up."

"I'm a fourth year." Alfred scowled, shoving the older student off of him. "I told you that already, dipwad."

"You better watch yourself, 'puffer." Gilbert straightened his robes, letting his wand fall from his sleeve into his hand threateningly. "Fourth year or not, I'll bet I know better jinxes than you."

Alfred scowled, tossing his wad of chocolate frogs on one of the seats. He could just see Arthur in the back by the window, looking bored with their display. Alfred wasn't much for memorizing spells, but a good unorthodox duel always got his blood boiling. It was his only chance of looking impressive with magic.

He drew his wand and pointed it at Gilbert. "Wanna try me?"

Gilbert's red eyes gleamed hellishly. He opened his mouth, but Arthur interrupted him.

"Put that thing away, will you? I've seen that Hufflepuff in dueling club. He just waves his wand and waits to see what happens. If you want to get hit by the mystery magic of the day, by all means."

Alfred flinched, reddening. Still... "You've seen me in dueling club?" He asked happily.

"Who wouldn't have seen you? You caused the chandelier to fall on you. Your opponent didn't even have to move." Arthur snorted.

"Yeah," Alfred scratched the back of his neck in embarrassment. "I was trying to hit him with like a blast of wind or something, but I aimed too high. I was picking candle wax off my robes for weeks!"

Arthur rolled his eyes, "Do me a favor, Alex. Don't do magic around me any time soon."

"My name's-

"Yeah, Arthur's saving himself for the tournament." Antonio quipped suddenly from the corner.

Alfred's eyes grew huge. "You're planning on entering the tournament? As a sixth year?"

It surprised him when Arthur shifted uneasily. "I told you to stop saying that, Antonio. I'm sixteen. I won't be seventeen till the end of term. I'm not allowed to enter."

Antonio snorted, standing to lean his elbow on Alfred's shoulder. "He doesn't mean that, kid. Make sure you spread the word."

Arthur scowled angrily, grabbing one of the chocolate frog packages and throwing it at Antonio's head. He missed and it clocked Alfred, causing Gilbert to start snickering again. "What do I have to say to get through to you, idiot? I'm not entering the tournament." He threw himself back moodily against his seat, stripping open a package and biting off the frog's head. Alfred winced for the poor little guy. He never had a chance.

"Ok, well that's cool that you're following the rules and all," Alfred chimed in, earning himself a glare from all three of them. "Uh, I guess I'll just be going. If there's anything else-

"Actually, now that you mention it," Arthur interrupted, standing. "I need you to deliver something for me."

"What is it?" Alfred nearly skipped for joy as Gilbert moved out of the way to let him into the train compartment. He lost his balance and bumped into Arthur's side, earning himself a horrifying snarl. "S-sorry."

This close, Arthur wasn't actually that must taller than him. He was light and small, a seeker. Alfred was a bit thicker (not fat!), and he was bound to be taller in the future like his dad. Still, Arthur was sixteen. And being this close to him, he could smell that Arthur wore cologne and that he had stumble on his cheeks. (Alfred meanwhile felt he would forever be the baby-face of Hufflepuff. Even Matthew shaved now!)

Arthur's gold hair was somewhat out of control as his mom would put it. She barely let Alfred keep his the length he had it, with that one goofy strand that defied gravity. Arthur's thick dark eyebrows were just as wild. Alfred had never seen them up close. They were huge and cottony and soft looking. His green eyes were his most noticeable feature, and they were the only thing Alfred remembered from first year. Matthew may have pinned his obsession at second year, but he was wrong. He'd admired thirteen year old Arthur Kirkland with his brand new broomstick even back then.

Arthur's Gryffindor robes smelled new and clean, but not like laundry detergent. They had an indefinable scent of being washed by magic.

Arthur wrestled to pull down his trunk, setting it on the seats. "This," he pulled out an envelope. "is for Francis Bonnefoy. You know who I'm talking about? That dickish Ravenclaw with the girl's hair and the French accent."

Alfred rolled his eyes, holding out his palm. "What do you want to talk to him for? You're a million times cooler."

Arthur flushed a little bit, scowling. "Just give it to him, 'puffer. And tell him that I know where the prefect's bathroom is, too."

Alfred blinked nonplussed. "Uh, oka-

"Do you want the 'puffer to send Francis your love as well?" snorted Gilbert, his mouth covered in chocolate. Alfred gaped to find the majority of the frogs already gone. Damn, that had to be close to his own record.

"Beilschmidt, I suggest you close your mouth, before I charm it shut." Arthur grumbled. "Don't open the envelope, alright, Alex? If I find out you have or that anybody else in the school knows, you'll be sorry."

Alfred blinked, wide-eyed. "Wait. This is a love letter?"
Antonio guffawed loudly. "So much for being subtle, Kirkland."

Arthur cursed angrily, "What is it about you, Antonio? That you've become so damn annoying over holiday? It's like you've contracted a disease."

"Well, if he has a disease, you must be dying," Gilbert noted rather dispassionately. "Francis is going to laugh in your face for this. All because he said no to a little-

"Shut up!" Arthur howled, looking genuinely furious. He turned pointing his wand at Alfred. "You better make this work, Alex. Or it'll be your head. Understand me?"

"Make what work?" Alfred asked, beginning to wish he had just stayed in his Hufflepuff compartment.

"Arthur's love life," Antonio snickered. And he instantly regretted it, when Arthur knocked him out with a fullblown jinx from inches away.

Not wanting to be next, Alfred and Gilbert both went for the door, leaving Arthur cursing behind them.

"Rotten luck for you, Alfred," Gilbert remarked, throwing an arm around him. "Francis will have a field day with this. It'll be all over the school by tomorrow."

"You know my name?" was all Alfred could think to say.

Gilbert winked, "Everybody's about to know your name, kid. I recommend delivering that little beauty right after Sorting. In fact," he leaned forward, tapping it with his wand. "It should go off at just about that time."

Alfred's eyes grew wide with horror as the envelope changed colors, blurring from innocent white to an ugly red. "What the hell did you do?" He asked faintly, though he already knew.

"Upped the ante a little," Gilbert snickered. "Better learn some good defense spells fast, Alfie. When that Howler goes off later, you're gonna need 'em."

"I'll... I'll leave it on the train," Alfred said faintly. "I won't get-" He squeaked in horror when he saw the envelope smoking at the edges.

"Now, I wouldn't think of doing that," Gilbert pulled another frog from his pocket, slapping Alfred on the back as he walked by. "I didn't get into this school because I could open and close daisy pedals."

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