Reborn As A Squib In Harry potter

No, the real problem with learning runes was the same problem with learning a new language: grammar. Combining runes into something I could use was tricky because of this. One fire rune plus another fire rune could make either a bigger flame, or a hotter one of a small size. It all depended on how you set up the sequence, which was basically like writing a sentence. There were rules about what rune had to go where, which rune could go first in a sequence, what runes could be used with other runes (you couldn't mix Elder Furthank with Japanese Kanji or Egyptian Hieroglyphs, for instance, but you could mix Sumerian Cuneiform with Elder Furthank, curiously enough), and so much more. It made my head spin!

Eventually, the bell rang, signaling the end of lessons for the day, and I put my stuff away – magical and mundane alike. I met Sam outside of the classroom, and we walked out of the building and down the street together.

We lived fairly close to each other, with Sam's house being in Dawshire Grove, a nice little suburban neighborhood. In fact, it was actually closer to Privet Drive than I was, which was an interesting thing to discover.

Unfortunately, we didn't manage to get as far from the school as we'd wanted, because Donny Miller and his goons caught up to his less than a block from the building. The fact he lived in Dawshire Grove as well as Sam meant we had to be discreet and quick on our feet to avoid running into him when school let out.

"Hey, lookie! It's Sammy!" the bully sneered. "Where you going with your boyfriend? Off to do girly things?"

"We're off to plow your mother," I shot back, irritation at my Rune studies bleeding over into my attitude towards the jackass.

Sam turned to gawk at me, his jaw on the ground, same as Donny and his squad, though Don's face was turning bright red as he processed the insult.

"Whu-what did you just say?!" Donny snarled, stepping forward with clenched fists.

"You heard me," I replied, rolling my eyes at the childish antics of the wannabe thug. "Now why don't you just run along, meat-for-brains."

"Oh, yeah? And what if I don't?" he demanded. "What if I decide to beat the shit out of you and your girlfriend?"

"Well, then, I'll just have to enjoy you getting yanked aside by one of the teachers, or perhaps a parent or some other adult," I said, gesturing towards the school parking lot which was still full of students being picked up. "You make one move towards me, and I start screaming. And what do you think people will say or do when they see you, an older, bigger, and dumber boy beating up someone smaller and younger than you?"

Donny froze, and turned his head to look over his shoulder. Even he wasn't stupid enough to try and do something to me with that threat looming, and he decided to leave it be for now.

"This isn't over," he growled at me, and I rolled my eyes as he stalked off.

"How cliché," I sighed, grateful my gamble had paid off. I then turned to Sam, curious about something he'd said.

"Sam, why'd did he call you my girlfriend?" I inquired. A strange thought popped into my head, and I stared at him.

"Wait a second… are… you… are you a girl?" I asked, confused. Sam blushed and looked at the ground, unwilling to make eye contact with me.

"That's… how did I not notice?" I wondered, more to myself than anything else. I looked back, even using Occlumency to help sort my memories, but nothing really popped up or stood out. I did eventually find a couple memories of Sam using the bathroom at school, and he (or was it she?) had used the men's bathroom at the time.

"I am a guy!" Sam finally sputtered out. "It's just… sometimes, I feel like, well…"

"Oh? Oh. OH!" I realized with a start. "Oh, so… huh, I guess that makes sense," I said, rubbing my chin. "Then, that incident Donny mentioned…"

I trailed off, waiting for him to finish my sentence and explain what had happened. He noticed, and after a minute, told me the story.

"I tried on one of my mom's dresses one time. As a goof. A dare!" Sam admitted. "But it was… nice, I guess? I liked it."

"And so you took a liking to dresses and 'girly things?'" I said, mimicking Donny Miller's nasally voice. Sam chuckled at the impression, but nodded.

"He caught me doing it one time. I'd been wearing my hair longer at the time, so I'd tried doing something with it, but all I did was put on some hair ties and scrunchies." Sam sighed morosely at that. "Donny made fun of me, and never stopped."

"What an asshole," I muttered, and Sam gasped at the language I'd used.

"So, that's the story. Are we… are we still friends?" Sam asked, and I looked at him like he was being stupid.

"Obviously," I said. "As if I'd ditched you for something like that. So, you like pretty things and girl stuff? So what? There are worse things to be into, like being a fan of that 'American Football' garbage."

At that, Sam laughed some more, although I could tell there were some tears in his eyes. They were tears of happiness, however, and he gave me a hug. I returned it.

Maybe, if I'd been a regular kid, I'd have been weirded out. But I was from a more enlightened time, and also, I just didn't care. Sam was Sam, regardless of how he liked to dress.

As we separated, I gave him a grin dripping with sneakiness. "Wanna prank Donny?" I asked. "Maybe give him a wedgie or something later?"

"Maybe," Sam said with a snicker.

"Okay. Just let me know when you want me to do something to him as payback. Nobody messes with my best friend and gets away with it," I vowed, and Sam beamed.

"Cool!" he said happily, before frowning.

"Just, uh, just don't swear around my parents or sister, okay?"

"Can do," I said with a lazy salute. "So, what do you want to do today?"

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