[ WP ] Humans inherently have magic abilities . And just like other natural human features , they get very awkward during puberty .

Professor Petrauskas believed that students really need proper motivation to reach their maximum potential. So he waited until the dead heat of August to remove the cooling charms on the classroom, opening the enormous windows that lined three walls and which presented a spectacular view of the lake and surrounding grounds. Half-sitting on the front edge of his oak desk, he felt fresh and at ease with a personal cooling charm gently aerating the air around him. He took a sip of steaming hot coffee from his mug. 
 
 A few feet away, sweat streaming down his temple, tall, tan Eli Malloy shuddered, nudging Cordelia Moreau and flicking his eyes over to the professor. She grimaced, her delicate, freckled features scrunching into little wrinkles. She flipped her long brown hair over her shoulder and smiled back at Eli. 
 
 Professor Petrauskas sipped away happily, until his gaze made its way to the back of the classroom. 
 
 “ Ah, ” he thought, “ what to do with those boys? ” 
 
 ~*~ 
 
 Four boys sat in the back of the Transfiguration classroom, talking quietly amongst themselves while the rest of the class stood next to their desks in various stages of exasperation, trying to cast a cooling charm. 
 
 “ This sucks, ” Argus Durand said. The other boys - Kyle Navarro, Lawrence Sinbad, Sylvester Sokolov - agreed in near unison. 
 
 Sylvester pushed his book away in disgust. 
 
 “ I ’ m sick of all this reading, ” he said. He was very small, probably had some goblin blood in him, and his voice was high. “ I want to do magic already! ” He slumped back into his chair, pulling near the collar of his long, black uniform robes. He winced when his spine hit the back of the wooden chair. 
 
 The other boys agreed again. They had this conversation every day, in almost every class, during lunch, often in the dorms after class, and always on the weekends when they were procrastinating on homework. It was a pointless and frustrating conversation, but the product of the foremost thought in each of their minds. 
 
 Their magic had not come in yet. While the rest of the class advanced from mere theory to actually casting spells with the arrival of their magic, the boys shifted to the backs of classrooms, professors assigning them reading then largely ignoring them. 
 
 Late-bloomers, Argus ’ mother had called them. A word that made Argus equal parts furious and ashamed. 
 
 Argus stared longingly at the back of Cordelia ’ s head, her hair shining in the afternoon sun streaming in through the windows. She would never love a no-maj. 
 
 ~*~ 
 
 They were practicing broom drills again. The boys hated broom drills. The brooms were old and slow, and enchanted not to go too high. The other kids could tamper with the charms on the brooms. 
 
 Argus and his friends were flying slow, sad circles around the pitch, until Eli Malloy zoomed in out of nowhere, crashing into Argus and knocking him off his broom. 
 
 Eli laughed viciously, then went silent, eyes wide, as Argus hovered in the air ten feet below his broom. 
 
 Kyle, Lawrence and Sylvester whooped excitedly from across the pitch, directing their brooms toward Argus. 
 
 Argus moved his arms and legs experimentally, his heart racing. He felt powerful. Magic coursed through his veins. 
 
 The Flying teacher blew her whistle, and ordered everyone in the class down to the ground. 
 
 Argus bobbed up and down in the air unsophisticatedly on his flight path down. He landed midfield, barely keeping his feet. His friends swarmed around him, giving him high-fives and ruffling his mousey brown hair. He was met with hearty congratulations only slightly tinged with jealousy. 
 
 Argus barely heard them. Cordelia smiled at him from ten feet away. 
 
 It was finally time to make his move, then. 
 
 ~*~ 
 
 Argus agonized about how best to approach Cordelia all weekend. He decided to move quickly. None of this game-playing so many of his classmates did. 
 
 He would sit next to her in Potions class on Monday morning, he decided. That would give them ample time to talk. Maybe he could work in an accidental hand brush or three that would send an electric tingle down both of their spines. He grinned excitedly at himself in the mirror, feeling like he looked older, more mature, handsomer, even though outwardly nothing had changed. 
 
 Argus stayed in his room that weekend and ignored his friends coldly when they tried to talk to him. 
 
 He marched into the Potions classroom on Monday morning as planned, shoulders pulled back, giving the boys a sneer when they said, “ Hey, Aggie! ” 
 
 He put his book bag on the table with a loud thump that caused Cordelia to flinch. He had gelled back his hair and put on too much cologne. 
 
 “ Hello, Cordelia, ” he said confidently. Loudly. 
 
 “ Uh, hi - Andrew? ” she said, brushing a stray lock of hair behind her ear, and immediately looking back to the notes she was studying. 
 
 She ignored him the rest of the class, pushing their shared potion ingredients into the middle table with the back of her hand, eyes on her cauldron or on the blackboard. 
 
 Eli and his friends laughed so much the professor had to send them out of the classroom. 
 
 ~*~ 
 
 Argus put his books in his locker, mind reeling. Shame, lust, hunger all warred in his mind for attention. His stomach grumbled, and his hunger won out. He wondered where he was going to eat lunch, now that he had embarrassed himself in front of everyone. His friends surely hated him. 
 
 A high voice said from behind him, “ Hey, jerk. ” 
 
 Sylvester. Argus turned around, torn between apologizing and yelling to try and cover his shame. 
 
 Sylvester looked up at Argus, hands on his hips. Kyle and Lawrence hovered behind Sylvester, hands in their robe pockets. 
 
 “ Are you okay? ” Sylvester said kindly. 
 
 “ I, uh - no, ” Argus said honestly. He rubbed the back of his head with his hand, and got hair gel on his hand. “ I ’ m sorry, ” Argus added, wiping his hand on his robes in chagrin. 
 
 Sylvester pushed his thick glasses up his stubby nose. “ We have a proposition for you, ” he said, business-like. 
 
 ~*~ 
 
 In exchange for not clobbering Argus as soon as their magic came in, Argus had to explain what using magic felt like every time Sylvester, Lawrence, or Kyle asked. No matter how inopportune, incessant, or droll their questions were. 
 
 “ Oh Great Mage, ” Sylvester intoned over breakfast, “ What does it feel like to be a show-off that levitates the salt shaker over to himself rather than just ask his friend to pass it? ” 
 
 “ It feels great, ” Argus said. He added, thoughtfully, “ You guys are going to love it! ”
