The Misfitters

Chapter I: The Bunker.

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Chance was well enough, walking towards the library with a book in his hands. His nose very well buried deep inside as he studied the words. Now from an outsider's perspective, this may look like a stereotypical Ravenclaw. Posture well kept, hair all neat, and a face in a book, of course. But little did they know, Chance wasn't actually reading. He was just looking at the little cover flip animation at the bottom.

"Hehe, flip flip." Chance flipped the little man at the bottom between the two pages as he bounced up and down, and the little man waved his arms. "Don't wave your arms at me, little guy, or you might just get slammed." Chance said, "slam!" He slammed the book shut as he walked into the library.

The librarian gave him a well delivered shush. Chance cringed, sitting down at a nearby table.  It was his 3rd year of Hogwarts and he felt like nothing had even begun. When he was told he was going to be a wizard, he expected all this cool shit to happen. Not more homework just like his normal school. What a bummer.

He knew he couldn't be ungrateful though, it's nice to know that broom flying was something to look forward to. And the only game you can play on it, Quidditch.

It was also so comforting to know that a dark wizard used to be around, good thing they got rid of that guy. Even better to know that unlike regular racism he got, he now has to deal with 'wizard' racism. What a plus! Being a muggle wasn't easy. Especially when you just don't fit in.

Being sorted into Ravenclaw wasn't bad, but it was for Chance. He has felt inconsequential ever since that stupid hat touched his head. He never seemed to do what was expected of him, not from just everyone, but his own house. It seemed a little harsh to pit 11 year olds against each other, especially with the enticement of competition. 

The Wizarding World was confusing, but if Chance knew one thing from his muggle world, it was that bribing kids with rewards to get them to perform well in school was a horrible idea. And it proves to still hold up here as well. Not only does it bring stress but it brings side choosing and....

It all sucked.

Chance knew that.

He'd even go as far as to say he'd rather be at home with his parents than training to be a wizard. The only thing he's got going for him at this school is his good buddy, Davidson.

Davey was a boy with brown skin and cool ass locs. He put in a lot of effort to make himself look nice and the effort paid off. He wore a nice yellow bandana that went well with his yellow uniform.

Davey was a Hufflepuff, and Chance couldn't give any less of a shit. They have been best friends since they first met in their first year. It was a sure bummer when this nice kid he met was sorted into a different house, but it didn't stop either of them from seeking each other out.

Turns out, Davey couldn't give any less of a shit too, and he made it abundantly clear that he too hated that sorting hat and the system around it.

They never saw color, they saw black and white. Just two friends and nothing to do with their complementary colors.

Chance caught Davey's eye as he stood at the library's door. Davey threw up a hand to show that he was waving Chance over. Chance trotted over quickly, skipping a little as he hurried. He eagerly pulled out the chair and sat down.

Davey hurriedly opened the parchment to show the latest issue of The Daily Prophet.

"Look, Chance. You gotta see this shit." Davey skimmed his finger on the words, pointing at a picture of a newly introduced broom. "The newest edition yet! They added smoke to the back. So you can literally smoke your enemies as you fly by. How gnarly is that?" Davey gleamed with admiration. Davey was a flier, he played Quidditch for the Hufflepuff team and was considered the fastest flier. It wasn't often someone could take that quaffle from him once he got his hands on it.