Archer stretched their limbs as they walked towards the airport mansion. They looked over their shoulder pensively at the male escort following them. He reminded Archer of someone, someone Archer didn’t particularly want to remember. The helicopter ride was tense, and Archer preferred to get far away from their escort before they remembered anything else.
Archer walked up to the entrance to the mansion of an airport and considered the doors, which seemed to have been kicked open. At least now I know I’m in the right place. They strolled past the doors and observed an angry girl with dark brown hair.
“Get in my way, and this’ll happen to your face!” she said, and then smashed a hole in the television with her foot. Archer watched curiously as she got into a violent argument with a red-haired boy who looked about Archer’s age. Archer looked on cautiously for a short while before they shrugged and continued over to the couches. They sat there, waiting and not talking to anyone until a blue-clad woman came in.
“All students, head out to jet A-26,” the woman ordered. Archer put their head down and walked past and onto the jet. They sat by themself and noticed a few others trying to figure Archer out. Of course, this wasn’t new or surprising. In fact, it was to be expected. Archer was used to the staring when people thought they weren’t paying attention. But Archer never made it easy for them. They would pointedly not say anything about their gender, forcing others to either try and figure it out, stay silent, or ask Archer. Archer found it terribly amusing.
A boy with fluffy dark brown hair and aviator sunglasses sat next to Archer. Archer didn’t say anything, trying to give away the vibe that they wanted to be alone. Apparently, the boy didn’t realize that, because he didn’t move or speak. Finally, Archer gave up.
“What do you want?” they sighed.
“I’m Huxley Frazier,” the boy told Archer, ignoring the question.
“And I’m the President of the United States.” Archer glared at Huxley. Huxley blinked and then grinned widely.
“Hey, thanks for saving me some time figuring out a nickname for you! But I already know your name. You’re Archer Thompson.”
“Wow, stalk much?” Archer raised an eyebrow.
“Only when I have to,” the boy replied.
“Which is when?” they asked.
“When I want to.” Huxley offered an easy smile. “Anyways, I’m here to figure out your preferred pronouns and possibly your gender.”
“I prefer they and them, and I go by genderqueer,” Archer responded.
“Nice meeting you, and as I’m sensing you’ve wanted me to leave since I sat down, I’ll leave you alone.” Huxley got to his feet and saluted Archer mockingly. “See you later, POTUS.”
Archer watched the boy leave and then shook their head. To fill their time, Archer thought about the school. He decided there would probably be dorms. Dorms were almost always divided by genders, so Archer would most likely get a room to themself unless there was some other person with a non-binary gender in the school.
When they finally arrived at the school, Archer was pleasantly unsurprised. They had a room all to themselves. Good. Archer sat at their desk and looked over the schedule. It seemed reasonable, and right now, Archer didn’t really care. They decided to watch a movie on the computer. Remembering the look of the school from the outside, Archer picked the Harry Potter series and they spent several hours binge-watching the movies. Archer eventually fell asleep somewhere in the middle of The Half-Blood Prince, still sitting in the desk chair, their head resting on the keyboard.
Hydrus sat up in his bed when he heard his roommate brushing his hair. He donned some fluffy black slippers and waved vaguely to his roommate, a boy named Kai. Hydrus shuffled out of the room and wandered around until he found the dining hall. Already there was a boy Hydrus’ age, who was named Huxley Frazier if Hydrus’ memory was correct. Frazier’s hair was disheveled but he seemed already dressed, wearing a black long-sleeved shirt reading “My life is a romantic comedy minus the romance and just me laughing at my own jokes”, dark blue jeans, black combat boots, a black beanie, and dark black aviator sunglasses. Frazier was standing right next to the coffee machine and nursing a cup of coffee.
“Morning, Frazier,” Hydrus said. He had gotten into the habit of calling others by their last names a while ago. Frazier grunted and then downed the rest of his coffee.
“Morning, Hydrangea,” Frazier replied, yawning and going to refill his coffee cup.
“Sorry, what?” Hydrus asked.
Frazier smirked irritatingly. “Would you prefer Malfobitus?”
“Malfobitus? Are you seriously comparing me to Draco Malfoy?” Hydrus refused to let Frazier get to him, even though Hydrus’ temper was rising.
“Yes. I’m also comparing you to a flower, yet you seem more concerned about the Malfoy-Obitus comparison. I mean, you call people by their last names, and you’re rich, blond, and spoiled by your parents.” Frazier counted off the similarities on his fingers and looked back at Hydrus, daring him to disagree. So Hydrus did.
“In that case, I’ll compare you to Harry Potter. You have brown hair, and who knows, you might have green eyes. Also, you refuse to call me, as the Malfoy of this story, by my first name. Plus, you’re insufferable and arrogant.”
“I’d rather be the protagonist and title character than a minor childish antagonist,” Frazier attempted to reason.
“And I’d rather be successful, popular, intelligent, and rich, than some scarfaced orphan!” Hydrus shot back.
“I have a feeling we have very differing opinions of this series,” Frazier said.
“I have a feeling we do, Frazier Tree,” Hydrus snarled and began to stomp off.
“Have a nice morning, Flower Boy!” Frazier called after him.