She hadn't been there four years ago, and nowadays he wondered how he'd survived his first year without the group of friends he'd now established. Things weren't perfect, but it was still better than his first-year self trying to pave his way in the magical world without much guidance. Ned had been there, but it hadn't been the same before the girls arrived to glue their friend group together. (To be honest, he'd thought Ned to be the biggest nerd in first year—and not in a good way.)
Sometimes he wondered what life would have been like if Sloane and the girls had been in his year. Would he have made the quidditch team? Him and Maddy would have been closer, no doubt, given how he'd met her for the first time the summer before he started school. Even if he had made the quidditch team, it was possible that Maddy would have been captain over him this year. Apart from what the beginnings would have looked like, the end of school would surely look different. He was now almost too aware that he'd be spending one year after graduating away from his friends and away from Sloane. That's why he needed good NEWTs and a good job to keep him occupied (or that's what he told himself).
"Well, can't blame myself now, can I?" he teased, remembering how he'd approached Potions class first year—that being, not at all. He'd avoided the subject for the most part in favor of more exciting classes like Flying and Defence Against the Dark Arts. "I'll say it was Ned's fault," he added, nudging her gently with his shoulder.
He watched her stir the potion. Would this one be any different than the last? He wanted to believe that he'd get better, but it seemed that every potion, one after another, turned out wrong no matter how carefully he read the directions. What if he was destined to be awful at Potions like metamorphmagi were naturally inclined towards Transfiguration? What if it was in his blood to be terrible?
She was right. He lacked the confidence. He grumbled in response. "I hope you're right," he murmured, jotting down the type of notes Alice had recommended. It was easier to grow from his mistakes if he knew what they were, right? "I wish we could suffer together. Next year we're going to be so out of sync." Then they'd have one more year together, and then... done. No more late-night quidditch practices, no more breakfasts, no more feasts and no more making faces at each other during group exercises in class.
Sometimes he wondered what life would have been like if Sloane and the girls had been in his year. Would he have made the quidditch team? Him and Maddy would have been closer, no doubt, given how he'd met her for the first time the summer before he started school. Even if he had made the quidditch team, it was possible that Maddy would have been captain over him this year. Apart from what the beginnings would have looked like, the end of school would surely look different. He was now almost too aware that he'd be spending one year after graduating away from his friends and away from Sloane. That's why he needed good NEWTs and a good job to keep him occupied (or that's what he told himself).
"Well, can't blame myself now, can I?" he teased, remembering how he'd approached Potions class first year—that being, not at all. He'd avoided the subject for the most part in favor of more exciting classes like Flying and Defence Against the Dark Arts. "I'll say it was Ned's fault," he added, nudging her gently with his shoulder.
He watched her stir the potion. Would this one be any different than the last? He wanted to believe that he'd get better, but it seemed that every potion, one after another, turned out wrong no matter how carefully he read the directions. What if he was destined to be awful at Potions like metamorphmagi were naturally inclined towards Transfiguration? What if it was in his blood to be terrible?
She was right. He lacked the confidence. He grumbled in response. "I hope you're right," he murmured, jotting down the type of notes Alice had recommended. It was easier to grow from his mistakes if he knew what they were, right? "I wish we could suffer together. Next year we're going to be so out of sync." Then they'd have one more year together, and then... done. No more late-night quidditch practices, no more breakfasts, no more feasts and no more making faces at each other during group exercises in class.
