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The summer rolled in like it owned the place not a moment too late or too soon. It hadn't hesitated in the slightest with how ferocious it would be this year. Ralph felt sweat trickle down his back and he grimaced.

Hogwarts had pretty much come and gone for Ralph, not waiting to kiss him goodbye on the cheek before throwing him unceremoniously back onto the train that had dumped the first year at the castle's feet all those months ago. Ralph felt cheated in some way, as if he had been playing a game without knowing all the rules because no one had told him them. The boy felt lost, floating through space with no hope of ever coming back to Earth.

Then a shudder of wings pulled him from his stupor. He was hunched over on the sidewalk and was pressing his fingers into ants as they marched on. They were searching for water, Ralph deduced, as they swerved away from the bag of chips he was enjoying that now lay on the ground at their level. But when the sound of air rushing over millions of feathers brushed his ears, Ralph knew that something was coming.

A shadow passed over him, cooling him for an instant. He wished it would stay in that spot for a little while longer. The heat was starting to drive the poor boy mad.

No sooner had it passed over Ralph's head that a letter landed with a plop onto the Slytherin's lap. He rolled his eyes, but secretly couldn't contain his excitement. Someone had written him? Him? ... It was for him, right? Ralph lifted the note skeptically, examining it with his cinnamon-colored eyes.

The envelope it was secured in was the most refreshing shade of green Ralph had ever laid eyes on. It was dark, like it had come straight of the Amazon rainforest, or some other rather lush, deep green place. The front was scribbled on with some wonderful silver ink, each letter masterfully and impeccably denoted with every stroke. It simply read, "Mr. Ralph Thomas Hastings" and, despite it's length, Ralph was impressed that, whoever had wrote it, had done so with the utmost care. Flipping the envelope over to its back, the Slytherin gasped. There, in a bright red seal, was an insignia that Ralph recognized.

He rolled his eyes once more, "Oh gee, what does she want?" Ralph was, of course, referring to Aimee McHalen. She and her best friend, Caty, were always grating on Ralph and Raymond's nerves. The girls were inseparable as well as insufferable. Ralph wouldn't have minded them so much if they weren't always talking about nonsense; the prattled on and on about some of the most mundane things!

In fact, the more Ralph thought about it, the less enthused he was about the whole affair. Especially since he wondered if Raymond was even invited. The girls never really took notice of him, the Slytherin was pretty much to himself most times. The only reason Ralph even met him was because of their mutual interest in Transfiguration. And, well, those girls didn't seem to focus much on their studies.

Ralph slipped a finger under the lip of the envelope and skimmed the note. It had a lot of formal language sprinkled throughout the letter but Ralph understood the gist of it: summer house party.

If only I was older, Ralph thought darkly, then I could just set this stupid letter on fire or something. He put the note down and stared across the street. Muggle cars zoomed past without even noticing him. They puttered along dangerously, threatening to give up whenever a muggle stepped on the gas unexpectedly. Brooms were much better, Ralph had announced one day to Effy. She had laughed and agreed with him.

The Slytherin boy stood and went inside the house to show the letter to Effy. If she thought he should go, then he would. Otherwise, he'd ask Tristan to set the thing on fire. He'd do it in a heartbeat, anyway.

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The McHalen Manor gave Ralph the willies. It was old, and Tristan had filled Ralph's head with all sorts of stories and legends surrounding that unfortunate house. It made him shake at night, thinking that he was essentially walking into a murder house. He would get nightmares that Aimee and Caty were just pulling his leg and sent him an invitation just to make fun of him or to do whatever it was that girls did that gave them a good rush. Ralph didn't know. And it freaked him out more.

Effy had insisted he go: "It'll be good for you to meet some of your housemates outside of school, Ralphy!"

In fact, Ralph was certain that Savannah was more excited about this arrangement than he was. When the day came for the party, it was Effy who dressed him, telling him what to wear and what not to wear, what to say and what to avoid. She was coaching him on how to be a proper Slytherin and, when the training was over, she took a step back and looked him over.

"There, now you look like a proper, young gentleman," she beamed.

Now, as he stood in front of the McHalen Manor, with a gift in one hand and his broom in the other, Ralph gulped audibly and searched around for a way out. The lawn of the Manor was well trimmed and vibrant, and all manner of plants seemed to thrive in the dirt here. Ralph thought he might have seen a garden gnome hobbling through the petunias on the west side, but he blinked and it was gone.

With as much courage as he could muster, Ralph rapped on the giant manor door. The knock echoed inside, sounding more like a cave than a home. It made Ralph's courage falter for a flutter of a moment and he felt his legs shaking. He could run now if he wanted to. A general unease settled in his stomach and he glanced over his shoulder constantly due to it.

He jumped as the door creaked open and a rather shriveled creature answered the door. Ralph stared at it with wide eyes, but realized that Effy had warned him of this, too. This must be a house elf, Ralph deduced, his eyes looking over the elf with curiosity now. This was the first time he had ever seen one, since his family never really believed they needed a house elf themselves. Effy had guaranteed Ralph that he would see a large manner of house elves before the day was done.

"Hello, Master Hastings," the elf bowed so low to the ground, Ralph thought he was going to kiss it. The Slytherin didn't know what to say or do, as this pointed-earred creature showed him respect and reverence. The only thing it wore was a nasty, heavily-stained towel, with a hole in the exact middle to fit its mishapen head through. The towel was ragged and trailed the floor, dirtying the ends with all manner of unmentionables, and it was cinched up by a fraying rope around the creature's waist.

Ralph wanted to cry and help the thing, but Effy had told him no. It was someone else's property, essentially. Ralph had no right to do anything with these things; they weren't his to do anything with. "But they sound like slaves!" the poor naive boy had argued, unable to wrap his young mind around the injustice. Effy only shrugged and said, "Just don't do anything with them, okay?"

The creature didn't seem to notice or, if it did, it didn't make it known. It straightened and stepped aside so Ralph could enter, "Please, come inside. The young mistress has been waiting for you. May Jupiter take your broom, young master?" The house elf put both his hands together and looked up at Ralph with the shiniest, wide eyes that he'd ever seen. It broke his heart more.

"Oh, um, alright," Ralph handed the broom to the little thing and watched as it scurried off behind a door (which Ralph assumed was the broom closet). It returned broom-less, and his suspicions were verified. "Thank you," the boy said as the elf returned.

The thing looked up at the boy and lowered its ears, "If there is anything else you need, please allow Jupiter to humbly serve you," Jupiter bowed once more, sweeping the entire floor with his nose. He had no hair on his head except for a small patch on the very top. He straightened and motioned for Ralph to follow, "The young lady is this way, Master Ralph,"

When Ralph entered, he first searched for his friend, Ray. The black-haired snake was no where to be found. Ralph tried very hard to hide his disappointment, especially as his eyes landed on Aimee. Not far behind her was Caty. No surprise, Ralph mentally joked as he approached the girls.

He held out the gift to Aimee and blushed a little, "Here. This is a gift from my family to you." It was wrapped very well, with beautiful emerald green wrapping paper covered in little red fox pups playing with each other. The ribbon it was held together by was the color of ivory, matching the white tuffs of fur that the foxes showed on their paws and bellies. A tag stuck from it that read, "To Aimee McHalen, From the Hastings."

Ralph's stomach grumbled and his eyes were already undressing some of the foods that were lined up atop a table. It stretched down the room and reminded the boy of when he was at Hogwarts. It had the same large selection of foods ranging from sweets to savories. Ralph wondered how it was that witches and wizards were able to stay so thin with how much delicious food they consumed regularly.

His eyes returned to Aimee. It was strange seeing her outside of her house robes and in normal attire. She wore a floral skirt and a bright pink top, and reminded Ralph of bubblegum. It was clear she had money because all her clothes looked new and not handed down, like Ralph's was.

It wasn't that the Hastings were poor, by any stretch of the word, but Ralph's parents liked to live frugally. Why buy new clothes for Ralph when Tristan's old clothes will do the trick? Sure, Ralph wasn't nearly as large as Tristan he was at the same age, but that's fine. He could just grow into his clothes.

Today, however, he wore his own clothing. It fit him well and didn't get baggy in the wrong places. It was a button-up shirt, the color of clouds, and was very breathable. He wore some nice slacks, too, with the shirt tucked into the waist. Ralph felt like he was marching along in a penguin suit, but Effy had insisted that this was the way to go for a family as prestigious and renowned as the McHalen's. What she probably didn't mention to Ralph was that he looked smart. Not book smart, but stylish, on-point, and, yes, even a little handsome for being so young.

She didn't mention it, most likely, because Ralph would have objected to the whole affair of things if she had. Him? More attractive to those girls? Ralph would have stomped out of the country in a heartbeat.