A/N - So I was just looking at the Pottermore website, weeping brokenly because I NEVER GOT THE EMAIL, and I thought, Hey, why not do something productive? Say, write some fanfic?

And this was born.

The first bit is italicised cause that WAS gonna be how I was gonna start it (seriously, I'd written like their first week at Hogwarts and everything) and then I suddenly realised… That would make them eleven… o w o

So, since eleven-year-olds and romance don't really mix, the italics-y bit became a time skip~ Just so you can see a bit of back-in-the-days Arthur :)

Oh, and one more thing. Francis is NEW here; this is his FIRST DAY. Hence Artie being all like wut?

And now that my ramblings are over, let us begin!

Arthur Kirkland closed his eyes and charged forwards, bracing himself for an impact that never came.

When he cautiously opened his eyes, the empty grey concrete of platforms nine and ten of King's Cross Station had vanished.

In front of him, the platform was teeming with people - some in the long robes of wizards and witches, others, like him, dressed in jeans and t-shirts, like - what was the word?

"Muggles," Tinkerbell chimed, flitting excitedly around his head.

"Muggles," he breathed. The word tasted foreign, yet another part of this entirely new world that had suddenly opened up in front of Arthur. It was odd to think that the first eleven years of his life could be summed up in that one word.

Because for the longest time, Arthur Kirkland had been nothing if not ordinary (aside from the ability to see and talk to fairies, of course). Up until the age of seven, he had lived in the London suburbs with two loving parents and a dog. There had been nothing in the history of his family to suggest anything more than a tendency towards being 'a maverick' or 'eccentric'.

Yet here he was, standing on platform nine and three-quarters, the Hogwarts Express hooting and hissing steam in front of him, about to go to school at what was (according to Tink) one of the best schools for Witchcraft and Wizardry.

A bell clattered loudly, interrupting his reverie. Flying Mint Bunny nudged him softly, and he patted her. It was time to go.

Heaving his trunk off the trolley, Arthur hurried onto the crimson train towards an uncertain future.

It was odd, the way even after so long some things would never change.

Arthur was standing on platform nine and three-quarters, lost in memories of his past. It felt like mere days ago when he'd stepped onto the platform for the first time. Sixteen now - he wouldn't be at Hogwarts much longer.

Someone grabbed his shoulder and spun him round, nearly knocking him over. It was Gil, Arthur's first real friend. As a muggle, Arthur had been ostracised for his ability to see creatures that weren't supposed to exist. He'd presumed it was a wizard thing, but not long after arriving at Hogwarts, he'd discovered that even among wizards the trait was… Strange.

Arthur had been terrified that he'd be rejected again, and for a while the students did steer clear of him, darting the occasional odd glance.

Gil had been the one to end that. As soon as he'd found out, he'd come up to Arthur, crimson eyes wide with awe. "Wait a second, wait a second. You're the one who sees invisible stuff, yeah?"

Arthur had nodded stiffly.

"And they talk to you? The invisible things?"

Another nod.

"Dude, that's so freaking awesome!" Gil crowed. "You can totally use that to cheat on tests!"

They'd been the best of friends from that moment on.

"Hey, Earth to Artie! Christ, you haven't grown at all over the summer, have you?" Gil grinned.

Arthur punched him.

"How've you been? Long time no see, huh?"

"Those were the days. I'm stuck with you for - how long now? The whole year?" Arthur teased.

"Guess again, my shrimpy friend. Going back home over Christmas, gonna try see my folks."

"I thought the whole point of running away from home was not to go back?" Arthur said suspiciously. Ever since First Year, Gil had proudly claimed to have run away from home, but no one had been sure whether he'd been lying or telling the truth.

Gil just grinned mysteriously. "Come on, let's get on the train. At this rate it'll leave without us again, and you know how pissy you got last time!"

Arthur shuddered and shoved all thoughts of that experience to the back of his mind. He followed Gil onto the train. They sat down with Elizabeta and Roderich, and Arthur rejoiced inwardly - it meant that Arthur had a good chance of quietly napping while Gil set to arguing with one or both of their fellow passengers.

It couldn't have been more than five minutes when the first insult was tossed out, and Arthur settled down to sleep.

He was woken by Elizabeta shaking him awake. "Arthur, can we go find the trolley? I'm starving, and those two aren't going to let up for a while," She gestured towards Gil and Roderich, who were still arguing happily.

"Sure, let's go."

They slipped out and started to make their way along the train. Before they were even halfway, they were stopped by some people blocking the aisle.

A boy stood in their way, his back to Arthur and Elizabeta. He was tall, with pale gold hair that brushed the nape of his neck. In front of him was a very pretty girl - Arthur recognised her as one of the Gryffindor beaters - who was pleading with the boy with tears in her eyes.

"Um…"

Hearing Arthur, the boy whirled around and looked him up and down, a calculating look in his eyes.

Then he grabbed Arthur's collar, pulled him forwards and kissed him full on the mouth.

Arthur froze in shock. What on earth…?

After a good few seconds, the stranger pulled back and turned to face the girl, as if he'd done nothing wrong.

"Désolé, cherie, but as you can see we may never be together," he said regretfully.

Recovered enough to form a coherent sentence, Arthur burst out, "What in the name of -"

Before he could finish his sentence, the stranger had yanked him close again, murmuring, "If you don't shut up and play along I'll have to kiss you again. Or worse," he added threateningly. "D'accord?"

Arthur nodded mutely. He grabbed the stranger's hand and intertwined their fingers, lifting their joined hands to show the girl. "Sorry," he said feebly.

She took one look and ran off sobbing.

Arthur snatched back his hand. Beside him the boy let out a sigh of relief.

"What in the name of arse was all that about?" Arthur said furiously. "You can't just treat a girl like that!"

"Ah, I'm sorry." The stranger smiled disarmingly and offered his hand for Arthur to shake. "My name is Francis Bonnefoy. Nice to meet you." His voice was heavily accented and dripped charm like honey.

Automatically, Arthur took the proffered hand. "Arthur Kirkland, how do you do?" He caught himself suddenly. "No, I mean, what? That poor girl!"

"Oh, you mean Mindy? She's fine." Francis said airily. "She just didn't understand the word non."

Arthur frowned. He shouldn't just brush the girl off so casually. "Maybe if you explained to her in English rather than that idiotic croaking you cretins call French, she'd understand without you having to molest strangers." He said coldly. His spine prickled; Francis was similar to her. To Marie. She was French, too; she liked leading people on, too.

Francis smiled, catlike. "Oh, I'm quite happy with the way things turned out, cher."

There was a sigh from behind Arthur, and he turned to see Elizabeta with a dreamy look in her eyes. He frowned and glanced warily at the stranger. Elizabeta was normally so down to earth; the stupid Frog couldn't have done something to her, could he?

Elizabeta's gaze was directed at a camera she held in her hands. Arthur felt his blood turn to ice. Please God no…

Hardly daring to think about it, Arthur peered over Elizabeta's shoulder at the screen, and his worst nightmares were confirmed.

Elizabeta had somehow managed to take a photo of Arthur and that damn Frog kissing.

He snatched at the camera and frantically tried to delete it. Are you sure you want to erase this photo? But before he could press confirm, Elizabeta said threateningly, "Put down the camera."

Somehow, she'd managed to pull out a saucepan. It was hovering just inches from Arthur's temple. He could either delete the photo and become the first person murdered by saucepan, or live with the humiliation of knowing there was evidence that he'd been kissed by a guy.

Arthur chose life.

Heart heavy, he handed over the camera.

He suddenly remembered whose fault this was. Seething with anger, Arthur spun round, ready to Transfigure the stranger into a frog.

He'd disappeared already, the twat. Sighing, Arthur headed back to the others. Behind him, Elizabeta was humming happily.

Could the day get any worse?

Arthur retreated to the library as soon as it grew dark.

He made a beeline for the Restricted Section, flicking his wand to set up wards that would warn him when someone approached.

Arthur was just reaching for a book when one of the wards went off. Filch? He wondered, hoping against hope that it was one of the more lenient professors. Pressing himself into a corner where the shadows lay deepest, he waited, holding his breath.

It was the stranger from the train. Arthur let out a sigh of relief. The other boy spun round immediately, wand raised and glowing at the tip.

Stepping forward slightly, Arthur pulled out his own wand. "Lumos," He whispered, directing the light so that it shone on his face. There was no point bothering to hide.

"Arthur Kirkland, oui?" The boy said. A predatory smirk curled the corners of his mouth.

Arthur stayed silent. What was the damn Frog's name again?

The other boy's smirk only widened. "Francis. We met on the train, tu te souviens?"

"Yes, I remember perfectly. You're the obnoxious one, aren't you?"

Francis grinned as if he'd received a compliment and ran one finger along the dusty shelves. "You're a Ravenclaw, then? I didn't know Ravenclaws had a penchant for rule-breaking."

"Since when are stereotypes universal?" Arthur said through gritted teeth. "Which unlucky house got you, then?"

"Slytherin," Francis said. He paused. "Though I'm starting to wish I'd chosen the other way, knowing Ravenclaw has people like you in it." He winked.

"The Sorting Hat gave you a choice?"

Francis nodded. "I thought Ravenclaw was the dull, studious house, so I opted for Slytherin."

"I thought that Slytherin was the cowardly, manipulative house, so I opted for Ravenclaw." Arthur snapped, the words pouring out before he'd thought them through.

Francis raised an eyebrow elegantly. "Oh?"

Arthur cursed inwardly. He hadn't meant to tell anyone that, and now here he was, blurting it out to some idiotic French boy. "Tell Gil - tell anyone - and so help me I will Transfigure you into a frog."

Francis smirked. "Don't worry, mon cher, I'd much rather have blackmail material over you."

Arthur gritted his teeth. "So do you want to leave, or shall I?"

Francis went on unfazed. "You really should have gone for Slytherin, though. That emerald green would look stunning on you. Bring out the colour of your eyes."

Arthur was opening his mouth to reply when he felt the prickle of his wards. It looked like he wasn't going to get any reading in for a while. Dismantling the wards with another flick of his wand, he turned to go back in the direction of the main library, hoping he could slip past whoever it was while they were distracted by telling off Francis.

Unfortunately, when Arthur left the library he could hear Mrs Norris miaowing from her post at the top of the hallway. There was no way he'd be able to sneak past her unnoticed - the thing was the devil incarnate, Arthur knew from experience. He pressed into an alcove, deciding to risk his chances with Filch rather than the infernal feline.

Moments later, Filch strode past, muttering to himself. "Come on, my poppet," he called to Mrs Norris.

Arthur waited until the footsteps had recided before jumping out of the alcove, blowing out a breath of relief.

Immediately, an arm circled round his waist. Before he knew what had happened Arthur was pressed against the rough stone wall, Francis' arms on either side of him so that he couldn't escape.

"What -" he started furiously.

Francis pressed a finger to his lips to silence him. "Idiot! If Filch hears us and comes back, we're both screwed!"

There was a thud in the distance and they both strained to listen. When he was satisfied that Filch wasn't coming back, Arthur turned to glare at Francis. "Can I go now?"

Francis ignored him. "Back in the library, you were hoping Filch would catch me so that you could slip past unnoticed. N'est pas?"

Arthur bit his lip.

A smile tugged at Francis' lips; he looked like the cat that caught the cream. "You've shown me your Slytherin nature; now it's time for me to show you mine," He murmured, low voice sending shivers skating across Arthur's skin. Arthur closed his eyes and tried to will his heartbeat into submission.

His eyes flew open when Francis touched his face gently. For a moment, they stared at each other. Francis' blue eyes were immeasurable in the darkness.

Ever so slowly, as if trying not to scare him, Francis inched closer.

Arthur tried to force himself to move, but he was frozen, every fibre of his being tense and expectant. Paralysed, he stood still as Francis' lips moved closer and closer and…

Stopped.

They were so close that their breath mingled. Neither of them moved, Arthur waiting for Francis, Francis waiting for… Who knew?

Finally, Francis stepped back, twirling something between his fingers. Before Arthur could make out what it was he had turned and vanished into the unlit corridor.

Leaving Arthur flushed and confused and wondering what on Earth had just happened.

It wasn"t until later when he reached for his wand that he discovered he had been robbed.

He unfolded the scrappy piece of paper to read the message inscribed in curling script.

If you want it back, come to the library tomorrow morning, 8 o'clock.

In the end, Arthur ignored the note.

Admittedly, it'd be troublesome not to have his wand, not to mention how weird it was to be without it, but the thought of Francis waiting for someone who never came was satisfying enough to outweigh the downsides.

Instead he went to the Quidditch pitch and found the Gryffindor seeker, an American called Alfred who had inexplicably decided to hero-worship Arthur because he had, once upon a time, been a decent beater.

Arthur didn't really care, but he and Al had become good friends. More importantly, Al was someone Arthur trusted not to mock him if he explained what had happened.

"What's up Artie?" Al grinned, tousling his hair. "How's the new year treating ya?"

Arthur sighed. "Don't remind me. Do you know Francis?"

Al frowned. "Yeah, he's Mattie's cousin or something. Why?"

"He's stolen my wand."

"What? How?"

Arthur explained, glossing over some of the details. "He said he'd return it to me this morning, but I didn't want to get it back on his terms. Could I borrow your wand, just for half an hour?"

"Sure thing, Artie!" Al grinned. 'In exchange, could you, um, could you do me a favour?" He hedged.

"Yeah, course. What do you need?"

"Could you possibly ask Kiku whether he'd mind tutoring me again like last year?"

Arthur took a moment to decipher the rush of words. "Oh, sure. What's he helping you with?"

Al mumbled something.

"Huh?"

"I said, Charms."

Arthur did a double take. "Charms?" He'd been in Al's class for the first few years, so he knew for a fact that Charms, along with Quidditch, was Al's best subject. "But Al, you're brilliant at Charms! He could probably learn something from you!"

"Yeah well, he doesn't know that does he? Charms is the only lesson we have together, OK?" Al said, taking off and putting back on his glasses. He only did that when he was embarrassed…

Arthur fought down a laugh. Al was such a child, really. "I'll tell him," he said soothingly.

"Thanks Artie!' Al said brightly. "Here ya go." He drew his wand out of his robes and tossed it to Arthur. "I better get back to practice. See ya, then!"

"Bye, Al," Arthur said. He shook his head in amusement. In all the time they'd known each other, Al hadn't changed a bit.

Concealing Al's wand within his robes, Arthur headed back towards Hogwarts. It was time to get his revenge on Francis.

A/N - Thanks for reading! Feel free to review :)