HP: I got Transmigrated into the World of Magic

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I give him a nod and return to my breakfast. Some of the things they serve are a bit bizarre, like Marmite, which supposedly goes on toast but looks like something that should come out of a car's oil tank when the owner waits too long to change it. 

I suppose it wasn't the worst thing I've ever tasted – that honor belongs to the time I tried to make my own Vietnamese food. I don't know what Vietnamese chefs do to make fish sauce not taste like liquid salt, but – actually, Marmite reminds me of a more paste-like version of plain fish sauce. But I digress. I do find it appalling that I never ate poached eggs in the States.

After breakfast, Neville and I climb the steps to the seventh corridor, and I smile widely when I reach the top.

"Hello again, William, I see you've brought another friend," the familiar sing-song voice greets me. I smile and give Neville the same silent instructions as I gave Hermione. 

I'm surprised that after a moment, Luna leans up against me slightly after a short time. Tentatively I drape my arm across her shoulders, after which she hums contentedly and continues to gaze out the window.

Strangely, it doesn't feel awkward at all when I eventually detach from Luna and turn to leave, only to find Harry and Hermione on the other side of Luna. We share small, sad smiles before I turn to the newcomer. "You can stay if you like Neville, I'm just on my way to meet Hagrid anyway. I know I'd prefer to stay otherwise."

"Are you sure?" Neville shifts uncomfortably. "I-I've never seen anything so...so..."

"Definitely, and I agree. See you around, guys."

I make my way down the stairs, feeling some eyes on me as I go, but I continue walking. As I go I try to remember what the trio is up to, and I can't come up with anything between now and the time Beauxbatons and Durmstrang show up. I think Hermione does some S.P.E.W. stuff. 

Oh yeah, I think Harry trades letters with Sirius a few times about his dream earlier in the summer. I can't think of anything for Ron at all; I just know he gets all jealous when Harry's name comes out of the goblet. 

I suppose everything went fine without my interference up until the Third Task - except the Yule Ball fiasco for which I hope to give Harry a nudge in the right direction - so they're certainly fine for now.

A stray, inane thought strikes me immobile: I wonder if I could beat the age line, considering my real self is over seventeen?

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My exile from the trio has proven quite productive. After a number of failed starts, I've created a miniature oak Quidditch goal hoop. The hoop is not hollowed out, however – a circular groove on either side shows how it might have been, but in the center of the circle on one side is an etched eihwaz rune, which stands for defense. On the other side is an etched jeran for success, with the implication that defense is the key to success. 

The hoop – Ron's second Christmas gift – was among the easiest of the ones I had planned. I also made a thin but sturdy oak bookmark for Hermione with an ansuz and sowilo pair – which look roughly like an F with the two lines slanted downward and a capital sigma, respectively – to represent wisdom and discovery, as well as circular medallion for Neville with a tiwaz rune – which simply looks like an upward pointing arrow – for courage. 

That one is not finished, however – I'm planning on etching a relief of a lion on the other side, but based on the reference images I found in the library, I don't think I have the skill for such details, yet.

That brings me to my largest project: five picture frames. Ron's is going to be simpler and have a different picture than the others, so my first attempt will be good enough for him. 

This second attempt will be Neville's, then I'll work on Harry's, then finally Hermione's and Luna's last, the latter two of which will have the most detail. 

Thankfully I've already approached Dennis Creevey – who is still friendly to me since the Sorting – to get his and his brother's help with the pictures themselves, in exchange for tipping them off about good opportunities to snap photos of Harry.

Even better than the headway I've made towards Christmas presents is the fact that I squared my debt to Professor McGonagall a few days ago, and that was entirely through her. I managed to make a few extra galleons helping out Hagrid as well. 

Professor Babbling still hasn't given me any paid work, but I got her to agree to loan me a set of rune-etching tools and some raw materials for the set of ward stones I had planned as another Christmas present. That's effectively just as good as galleons.

Unfortunately, though, Professor McGonagall said that the Ministry would not be hiring students, a fact which I shared with a heavily disappointed Ron one night. 

We still chat about inconsequential things in the dorm, Harry, Ron, and I, but I avoid discussing Hermione and turn down their offers to do stuff together.

I really don't want to drive a wedge between the three of them, because there will be plenty of them in short order.

Now, the entire student body stands outside at dusk watching for the arrival of the two foreign delegations – most scanning the path to Hogsmeade – and my stomach is fluttering in anticipation.

It seems like an eternity before the enormous flying carriage pulled by winged horses materializes in the eastern sky. 

Everybody is suitably impressed, and despite seeing something like it on film, I have to admit I am as well. Likewise when Madame Maxine makes her appearance.

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