Well Until Halloween, and yes.

Over the next few weeks you manage to get a handle on flying, you are still no professional. The rest of your classes have gone relatively smoothly. Potions is going smoothly despite your teammates' relative incompetence. Transfiguration is going as well as one could expect, McGonagall tolerates silly questions as well as she would a plague-infested rodent, but you're learning the material well enough. You aren't sure you will ever be a natural at the art, but you'll be proficient. History of Magic has been surprisingly entertaining, Professor Binks is dry, but informative.

The only real class that has been hard has been Defence Against the Dark Arts. Professor Quirell seems to fluctuate wildly in class between a stuttering mess and a stern disciplinarian. You don't seem to be able to even sneeze in his class with out him snapping at you for something. Furthermore, you can't shake the feeling that he is watching you. Your housemates tell you to keep your mouth shut in his class though, he is very fond of taking house points from you.

Despite that your late night study sessions with Jennifer, and even Ezra sometimes, have helped you stay ahead of the curve in your classes. The library becomes like your second home, and Madam Pince seems to have taken a bit of a shine to you, helping you find materials that help you broach some of the more complicated topics. You realize that there is a strange sort of logic to the filing system in the library, and with Madam Pince's help you begin to memorize the cataloging system. The Muggle-born girl from the train, Hermione Granger, also spends a lot of time in the library, but she seems suspicious of you. More than once you have found yourselves both looking for the same reference material, but she won't even spare you the time of day.

The rumors of the Griffyndor's new Seeker seem all but confirmed, and you have been pointedly ignoring the Potter boy. You begin to realize that you are anxious with your time here at Hogwarts and that all of your free time turns back to Christmas and summer breaks. You find that the elation of the first few weeks is being steadily replaced with dread; you do not want to return to the gaunt family shack. You need something to take your mind off of the prospect of returning to your abusive father, and the terrible portraits.

After the third week of classes you Hear Professor Flitwick in the common room, early Saturday morning. Throwing on your bathrobe you shuffle out into the common room. The head of house was posting a flyer to the bulletin board, and a crowd of your fellow first years had gathered around. "As I said," Professor Flitwick called over the clamor of the students "There are student organizations and clubs that are recruiting members from first years, including a Quidditch club. They do not play formally, but they have afternoon scrums and the like."

He barely finishes saying quidditch before the first years swarm around him. Coming down the steps you walk over towards the end of the crowd, and see Professor Flitwick squeezing out through the back of the throng. "Sorry about that," you smile sheepishly "I guess folks are just eager to sign up."

Professor Flitwick chuckles. "Oh, I know Marvolo this pretty much happens every year." Brushing off his robe sleeves he looks at you appraisingly, "Are you thinking of picking up any extracurricular activities?" You shrug, "I don't know Professor, it seems like a waste of time."

Professor Flitwick smiles "I find it is usually quite the opposite, a deliberate diversion to refocus the mind and keep busy idle hands." He waves towards the bulletin "There are a bunch of choices, and few take more than an hour or two a week, and you may find them valuable. We have the Intramural Quidditch club, Forensics team, a design and fashion club, even a Wizard Chess team."

You make your way through the crowd, there are a variety of options, you take a few fliers, but its pretty clear that you will probably only be able to make time for one club.