A cold breeze cut through the evening air, going unnoticed by Harry and his friends, for they were too busy trying to keep up with the swift foot movements of the experienced muggle soccer players.

Even though Harry wasn't exactly a slow runner, given that he spent the first half of his childhood running from his cousin Dudley's physical attacks, he still never had much practice in any sports not involving a broomstick.

He had to admit, even though Ron probably had even less practice with muggle sports, he was doing far better than him. Ron's physical abilities where ones to stand out during the game. He was quick on his feet, and almost as swift as Dean when it came to passing the ball.

Dean, who was indeed a muggle born, appeared to be highly skilled, even more than Ron. Harry was sure that if they practiced more, they would be able to join Walker High's soccer team.

He could hear the cheerleader's laughter as he failed once again to kick the ball, tripping as his bottom hit the ground with a loud thud.

Harry wished that they, along with a large part of the walker high students, hadn't come to witness his pathetic physical display.

He'd been surprised at first when seeing the large group of people who had gathered around the soccer field. Mike had said most where probably curious to see if any of the new exchange students had any skill.

After a couple failed attempts at kicking the ball, Harry decided to sit it out, and wait for the match to be over.

Walking back to the bench, he received a couple sneers from the cheerleaders and jocks. Harry spotted Draco, Crabbe and Goyle among them.

'Guess he found a group after all' Harry thought, rolling his eyes at the bullies' obvious choice.

Harry spotted Darren sitting on the bench, his usual sketch pad in hand, not really paying much attention to the ongoing soccer game. He smiled, glad that at least one of his friends hadn't witnessed his miserable failure. Hermione and Linda sat side by side, smiling encouragingly at him, though he could see the pity hidden behind their gaze.

He sat next to Darren who barely looked up at his arrival, as he madly erased a large part of his drawing from his sketch pad.

Harry went on, watching the match.

Ron passed the ball to Dean, who made his way through the opposing team. Dean kicked the ball in mike's direction. Mike ran towards the goal at full speed, his feet moving swiftly through the grassy field, his blonde hair looking like a golden blur in the evening wind as he scored the team yet another point.

Harry cheered along with Hermione and Linda, feeling a tinge of jealousy as the whole team high-fived each other, marking the end of the match.

Ron and Mike walked over to the benches, panting and laughing. Harry dug his nails into his jeans as he plastered on his best fake smile.

Darren, finally looking up from his sketch pad, smiled at them. Unlike Harry's smile, Darren's was sincere.

"Great game guys," Darren said, though harry was positive he hadn't watched any of it.

"Thanks" Mike panted as he reached over to grab a water bottle, handing one to Ron as well.

They all stood up to head to the cafeteria for dinner.

While walking through the field, Ron walked next to harry, leaning over to whisper in his ear.

"It's harder than it looks, not at all like Quidditch."

Harry cringed, feeling slightly insulted, having had Quidditch as his only comfort for not being a failure at all sports.

"How so?" Harry said, trying to keep his tone neutral.

"Well, it more tiring because it's not on brooms, the whole running and passing the ball with just your feet takes some real skill." Ron ran a hand across his forehead, wiping off beads of sweat.

Harry just nodded, not knowing what say. He knew he should be happy for his friend, and how much he was enjoying himself and fitting in.

Ron had always been so encouraging in everything Harry did, he felt bad for not doing the same.

Thinking on that, guilt began to hit him. He turned his head towards Ron.

"You should join the soccer team, you're pretty good." Harry smiled, this time, a true smile.

"You think so?" Ron beamed.

"Yeah, if I didn't know any better, I would've thought you were a muggle born"

Ron laughed as they entered the building.

He and Harry caught up to the group as they walked over to grab a tray. Harry Ron and Mike mostly filling theirs with junk food like pizza, chips, fries and other random greasy foods they came across.

Linda and Hermione scowled, but said nothing as they walked over to sit at the table.

Harry took a seat between Ron and Hermione, and excitedly began to dig into his food. The chattering began to break out amongst them, mostly irrelevant topics. Harry would've gladly joined in, but his attention was focused on Malfoy who had just walked into the cafeteria.

Harry kept his head down, hoping to go unnoticed. Usually, he would face the bully's taunts head on, but he hated to admit that this time Malfoy did have the upper hand.

It was like when they were in Third year, and Harry passed out on the bus because of the Dementors. He knew Malfoy wouldn't let him live that down for the rest of the year; it was the same now after seeing him play soccer.

Harry's luck however, hadn't improved much since then, as Malfoy's eyes met his.

The blond Slytherin, his usual sneer plastered on his face, made his way towards Harry. Crabbe, Goyle and a couple of his new friends followed.

Harry tensed, causing Ron to look up just as Malfoy arrived.

"Good game Potter" Malfoy laughed. "You play almost as good as my blindfolded grandmother!"

"Stuff it Malfoy!" Ron spat

Malfoy ignored Ron. His gaze remained on Harry as he waved a can of soda in front of his face.

"You can have it." Malfoy said "Sitting on the bench must be so tiring."

Malfoys friends laughed loudly, attracting the attention of some nearby tables.

Harry's face went crimson. He felt his blood boil in hatred towards the bully.

He would've hexed him by now if it weren't for the obvious fact that he couldn't, not in front of all the muggles. Malfoy could sense what he wanted to do. His smirk grew as he watched Harry sitting there, without his magic, no longer the famous 'Boy Who Lived'.

He felt the strange 'déjà vu' sensation of when he went to muggle school around the time when he had to deal with Dudley. The same laughing crowd, the same taunting bully, and the same loser self.

The anger inside him grew as Malfoy opened the soda can and took a sip, starting mockingly down at Harry.

Harry looked at the soda can remembering the day his aunt Marge had come to visit, and he'd accidentally made the cup in her hand shatter after she called his mother a bitch.

The soda can began to shake, a rocket-like stream of liquid hitting Malfoy square in the face.

Malfoy yelped, dropping the can which stayed in midair for a couple seconds longer than it should have before falling.

Harry gaped at the scene, stunned at what he'd just done. He quickly regained his temper before he blew Malfoy up like he'd done with his aunt not long after shattering the cup.

"What the hell was that?!" Darren gasped, blinking slowly. "Did everyone else just see that?"

Darren looked at Mike and Linda who appeared to be just as confused as he was.

Deciding it was best just to play dumb, Harry Ron and Hermione just shook their heads in disbelief. Draco did the same, his eyes shooting daggers at harry before he turned to leave. Harry watched him walk out of the cafeteria, knowing he was going to get some serious payback from Malfoy sooner or later.

The rest of the meal was filled with chatter, mostly from Mike, Darren, and Linda talking about the soda incident.

Linda persisted that Malfoy had probably shaken the can, and that the whole floating in midair thing was just a trick of the light. He could hear the doubt in her tone. Regardless, she stuck to that idea.

Darren and Mike on the other hand had gone with the whole 'ghost' theory, causing Harry to internally face palm himself.

Harry and Ron were more focused on holding back their laughter through the entire meal as images of Draco's soda explosion kept passing through their minds.

Walking back to their dorms, Harry noticed some of the students whispering and pointing at him, wizarding students to be exact.

He figured they still wouldn't stop even after they were at a new school. Ever since Harry told all of them You-Know-Who returned, he'd been marked as crazy and a liar.

It wasn't so much the crazy part that bothered him, but more the whole being called a liar thing. The only people who really believed him were his friends, people from the D.A, and Dumbledore who appeared to be avoiding any contact with Harry. Dumbledore wouldn't even look at him anymore.

Harry ran his left hand across the back of his right one. He could still feel the words 'I must not tell lies' that had been permanently engraved on his skin.

His train of thought broke as Linda spoke up.

"Are you guys joining any clubs?"

Hermione shrugged "Maybe, but not right now."

"I'll probably try out for soccer" Ron said.

"What about you harry?" Linda asked

Harry shook his head, hoping to find a way to get the D.A back together in this school. Professor Umbridge wasn't at this school, so that gave them an advantage. He could probably just use his dorm and call it a study session.

He knew McGonagall was on their side, so even if she found out, she wouldn't stop them.

All he had to figure out now was when to have the meetings. Something, he thought, could wait until later. Right at that moment of reaching his dorm, he had only one thought in mind; his broom.

After a long day of Muggle School, with only a couple hours of magical lessons, getting on his broom seemed like the best thing to do. He hated soccer, and he knew there was no way to practice Quidditch at this school.

He didn't really mind being here as much as he thought he would've, not with having made friends so quickly, along with having Ron and Hermione by his side. However, that didn't change the fact that he missed Quidditch and talking about magic freely. Those were things that could only really be done at Hogwarts.

Saying goodnight to Mike and Darren, Ron and Harry shut the door behind them.

Harry looked over at Ron who nodded, practically reading Harry's thoughts.

Ron kneeled over the trunk as Harry locked the door behind him.

Ron pulled out the two brooms, handing Harry his Firebolt.

Just as Harry made his way towards the window, Ron stopped him.

"Wait!" Ron said, making Harry groan.

All he wanted to do was fly at the moment, didn't Ron get that?

"What is it?" Harry asked

Ron reached into the trunk, pulling out two black cloaks.

"We should wear them." Ron said "Fred and George gave them to me after they told me to take our brooms."

Harry could see why, the cloaks where pretty long, with a black shade that appeared to blend in well with the night sky. And if that wasn't enough, they both had hoods big enough to hide their face if they were to ever get caught.

He couldn't imagine anyone besides Fred and George ever being so genius when it came to recklessness.

Harry grinned as he took the cloak from Ron's hand and put it over his clothes.

Ron opened the window and looked down.

"Anyone below?" Harry asked

"No, but you go first."

Harry raised an eyebrow. "You afraid?" he laughed

"No, I'm just used to taking off from the ground, not out a window from the third floor."

Harry rolled his eyes and mounted his broom, climbing the window sill. He balanced on it for a second or two before kicking off.

In the air, Harry turned to look back at the room. He spotted Ron on his broom, balancing on the window sill, deciding whether or not to take off.

"What's the hold up?" Harry asked

"I don't know." Ron said, looking down at the ground below. "Maybe we should do this tomorrow..."

"Ron..." Harry said. "There was a spider on the window."

Ron's expression turned into one of panic.

He pushed off, flying next to Harry.

Harry laughing as both wizards flew higher, taking off into the night sky.