An American In Hogwarts X

Out on our way to Transfiguration through the flagstone corridors, Bran nudged me with his elbow. "You okay, Rollie? Why the long face?" 

"Yeah, I think so," I sighed. "I'm bummed. Everything seemed to be going well, and now I feel like I'm in trouble again."

"I don't know about that, Professor Shacklebolt didn't seem to be too upset."

"Well, I have a favor to ask you, would you be willing, after classes are done for the day of course, to wait outside the room, y' know, in case anything, uh,"

"Don't worry, Rollie, no need to explain. I'll be there," Bran patted my back.

"Thanks," I flashed a quick smile and pretended as if the conversation didn't happen as we walked into Transfiguration with Professor McGonagall.

I had an opportunity to sit next to Bran and behind our table sat Edna and Daphne. The four of us were at the center, and before class started, we settled in our seats and pulled out our wands and books.

"…I really think the Chudley Cannons are a shoo-in to win the League Cup this year…"

My head spun towards the direction of the conversation. A tall, muscular guy with flowing curly auburn hair was chatting with a slender blonde kid with short hair. Both of them were dressed in Gryffindor robes.

"The Ballycastle Bats and Tutshill Tornados, I think will be the only teams giving them any sort of trouble," the muscular guy said with a deep voice, then he glowered at me. "Aye, whatcha' lookin' at me for?"

My leg twitch. "Uh, nothing, I just overheard your conversation and I just got excited that you were talking about Quidditch."

"You just always stare at strangers like that? Didn't you learn any manners in America?" him and his friend snickered.

"I just wanted to offer my opinion that—"

"I don't care about your opinion," he grinned. "What does an American have to say about the British and Irish Quidditch league?"

"I'm actually a close follower of the British and Irish League. Some people in the States follow it, my favorite team is—"

"Still don't care," him and his friend busted out laughing.

"Oliver! Leave him alone!" a girl that was sitting next to him slapped him on the shoulder.

"Aye, he's a big boy, he can fend for himself. Just givin' 'em a rough time. Nothin' personal, right, yankee?"

"Max!" the girl jumped out of her seat and drew her wand at him.

"Magdalene, darling, put the wand down, whattya care so much?" he stretched out his hand, leaning back in his chair.

"Because, I don't want to date someone who hurls around ignorant remarks, leave him alone, he hasn't bothered anyone! So what, he likes Quidditch, make a friend! Apologize!"

"Absolutely not," his brow arch and his jaw dropped. "Have you gone mad?"

Magdalene gave him a death stare, which made her brown eyes look like fireballs. The whole class was silent, my heart was galloping.

"S'alright, no need to worry about it, I can handle some ribbing, I get it," I gave an awkward smile and wave, hoping like hell it would deescalate the situation.

Professor McGonagall stormed in the classroom, Magdalene slipped down in her chair, still glaring at Oliver. I thought maybe McGonagall heard the conversation, but she stood in front of the class and flashed a smile.

"Good morning class, many of you are already aware the fifth year is challenging since we are preparing for the O.W.L's. Today I'd like to refresh our memories on a basic lesson to ease into the semester. A guinea fowl to guinea pig. Let me know if you need any help, but please give it an honest effort before asking."

The rest of the class worked amongst themselves. Daphne and Edna were able to flick their wrist with their wand, whisper the incantation: Guineas-fur, and then they each had a fuzzy guinea pig crawling around their desk. It took Bran two tries.

Third time's a charm, right? 

Sigh.

I couldn't help but laugh, by the fourth time, my guinea pig still had feathers attached to him. I could change it back to a guinea fowl just fine, but the end result kept turning into an abomination. 

Observing the rest of the room, I noticed I wasn't the only one having trouble, half of the class struggled. My eyes landed on Magdalene before I realized I shouldn't even stare in that direction. She was already marveling at her guinea pig. Oliver wasn't even close to changing his guinea fowl correctly, I silently rejoiced. 

As the class period came to a close, I turned my guinea fowl into a guinea pig. Everyone else sat silently next to their guinea pig, but I let mine crawl on my hand and to my other hand, using my arms and shoulders as its bridge. It kept going back-and-forth. I was giggling to myself.

"Rollie, class is over," Bran said, pushing in his chair.

"Oh, sorry, I must have gotten carried away, that's all," I smiled and grinned back at the guinea pig, which leaned its head closer. "I'll see you later, Tulip."

"Who's Tulip?" Bran asked.

"Just the name of my guinea pig," I chuckled.

"You named your guinea pig?" Daphne asked. 

"Yeah, I guess I just got a little carried away. We were having fun there," I shrugged.

The four of us gathered together and walked down the corridor, where a familiar-looking courtyard was to my left. 

That's where Leon summoned the troll.

"Come along, Rollie," Daphne said as they had already walked ahead of me.