Chapter 2: Different Cultures (+ schedules, but whatever)

The prefects - Is that seriously what they call the honor roll students?! And why are there only two? One boy, one girl for each house. I’ll never get used to this! (A/N: Marie’s internally whining lol) - lead everyone to the top of Ravenclaw tower. The stairs went higher and highesr in a spiral.

“Nuuuuuu,” Cynthia cried.

“Cyn, it’s okay, we aren’t there anymore, it’s okay,” Marie whispered, so only her sister could hear. “These stairs aren’t a punishment, Cyn, I’m fine. We’re going to use these to get to bed from now on, okay? It’s alright.” At least, she thought no one else could hear her. They were ignoring her, so how would they? Marie forgot all about the boy who she befriended, walking just behind her.

Patrick watched Marie rock Cynthia. What does she mean, “there”? And punishment? Why would spiral stairs be a punishment??? Patrick was about to ask (My Patty boi here has almost no restraint. LOL!) but remembered how she didn’t ask about his father. He also didn’t want to be rude and over step his friend’s boundaries. They also JUST became friends! Why would he look into her past so soon? Yes, he was curious, but that doesn’t mean he should ask for every detail about her!!

Marie looked back to see who was constantly muttering, having calmed Cynthia down. Why on earth was that boy muttering so loudly?!

“You do realize that I can hear you, right?”

“W-w-what?!” Patrick’s voice went five octaves higher.

“Well, I mean, I can hear you muttering but not the actual words,” Marie clarified.

“Er, of course, sorry,” his dimples were revealed!

Marie spoke under her breath, “So he does have dimples.”

“What?” Patrick looked at her confused.

“Nothing~” Marie faced forward, seeing an eagle on a door.

Her eyebrows rose when it spoke, but she wasn’t very surprised. Patrick just smiled with nostalgia.

“Welcome, new and old students. In order to get in, you must solve a riddle: ‘Feed me and I live. Give me water and I die. What am I?’” The bronze eyes seemed to be questioning only the first years.

Marie knew the answer. It was obvious!

“Oh dear,” the prefect known as Robert Hilliard spoke up. “Well then, I don’t know the answer. Do any of you first years know?”

Gasps were followed by whispers of how the prefect didn’t know the answer! Marie frowned. Why would a prefect pretend not to know one of the easiest of riddles? It was ludicrous! She was about to answer when a first year in front of her raised their hand.

“Excuse me, Lyra Macris speaking!” the girl seemed arrogant. “May I solve the riddle? And I already know you are doing this so that we learn to ‘humble’ ourselves and try to ‘work together’, but I am no fool. I will not fall for your presumptuous tricks. I thought we were Ravenclaw, not Slytherin. My parents will certainly hear about this!”

“We were supposed to answer the riddle, not rant on like a Draco Malfoy knock-off,” a boy glared at the blonde. “How suspicious. Or dodgy, if you only understand slang, Malfoy Knockoff.”

Lyra’s face went from snow pale to strawberry red. “How dare you! Do you have any idea who I am?!”

“No, and I don’t care,” the boy snapped. “Can somebody please answer the riddle now?”

“It’s fire, isn’t it?” A random kid in the very front tugged at the prefect’s sleeve.

“Is it, O Great Eagle?” Richard asked. Another seventh year snorted.

The door swung open. “Well done.”

They all went in to see a truly marvelous sight. The common room was wide and circular, with gracefully arched windows punctuating the walls. Blue and bronze silks were hung and the domed ceiling was painted with stars, which echoed in the midnight blue carpet. Marie never saw anything so mesmerizing even if she was born a witch. Tables, chairs, and bookcases surrounded the room and a tall, white, marble statue of Rowena Ravenclaw stood opposite of the door.

“Welcome,” a ghost came out of the statue, looking almost the same as Rowena. It was the Grey Lady.

“Hello,” Marie breathed, not able to hide her awed expression. The ghost nodded and smiled with seemingly warmth at the American.

“The Grey Lady disappeared, never to be seen again…..”

Marie spun around to see Patrick spooking some of the first years. Well, at least, he was trying to scare them. They were unamused. Marie rolled her eyes. Guess she’ll have to teach him how it’s done.

“I know I’m new here too, but may I tell you something I heard from Professor Flitwick on our way here?” Marie held Cynthia close and pretended she was sharing a big secret. Which, she was, but how was she to know that? They all nodded. “Well, I heard that the Grey Lady’s real name is Helena Ravenclaw.” Patrick’s eyes widened and his brows slightly furrowed. Professor Flitwick wouldn’t talk about this at all near anyone, let alone students! “Helena is the daughter of Rowena, the founder of our house. But these are the details as to why she’s our house ghost. What is truly frightening is that Slytherin’s ghost, the Bloody Baron, killed Helena in cold blood! I don’t know why he did it, but they say he’s called the ‘Bloody Baron’ because he is still covered in her blood……” Marie stood up and walked toward Richard, who was waiting patiently for everyone to gather and listen.

Patrick felt sorry for the kids. He was simply teasing them, but Marie had off and made them wet themselves. But Patrick felt even more sorry for the Richard. Poor bloke is dealing with these miscreants until he graduates. Wait…. Patrick has to deal with these kids longer! The boy groaned.

“Everyone, please come here and listen!” Richard was exasperated. The prefect sighed. “Girls go to the left turrets, boys on the right. Those are our dormitories. I have a page for each of you to read about our house. All your things are there, so no need to worry about that! With my farewell, I hope you have a good rest!”

Lyra rose her hand. “Are the rooms separated by year?”

Richard smiled. “Good question! The rooms are separated, but not in any drastic way. Oh, which reminds me. There is a curfew, at ten o’clock. You can stay in the common room after curfew, but not in the halls.” He laughed. “Unless your Harry Potter and his friends, of course. But those three were in Gryffindor, so no wonder there.”

Everyone laughed again. After the prefect said goodnight, all the first years quickly went to their respected dorms. Marie sat down on the window sill, taking notice of Patrick walking towards her.

“Poor bloke, he need a break from all this,” Patrick sat across from her, looking out to the scenery. “Beautiful, isn’t it? I love observing the way nature works and goes about.” He turned to her. “What about you?”

Marie gazed out with a look of indifference, but the longing and sadness in her eyes told Patrick differently. “It is beautiful.”

The girl didn’t continue. Patrick fumbled with his robe, feeling awkward.

“So, erm, what’s your schedule?” Patrick trying to clear up the awkward tension frowned slightly at himself. “I just realized I haven’t asked you until now.” He softened, grinning nervously back at Marie. “Sorry!”

She smiled. “No worries, Patrick.” Marie fumbled around, finally getting a crumpled up paper out of her sleeve. “Here.”

Patrick took his schedule out of one of his pants pockets. “And this is mine!”

They had the exact same schedule. (A/N: How convenient that the two main characters have the EXACT same schedule?! What a mystery, too bad it shall never be solved. Dundun dunnnnnn.)

Patrick Jameson’s Hogwarts Schedule:

Monday – Charms, Potions

Tuesday – Transfiguration, Care of Magical Creatures

Wednesday – Astronomy, Herbology, Quidditch Practice

Thursday – Defense Against the Dark Arts, History of Magic

Friday – Ancient Runes, Divination

Saturday – Quidditch Practice

“Huh,” Marie raised an eyebrow. “This is certainly a bizarre coincidence. Besides the quidditch part, our schedules are identical.”

“Not really a coincidence, this is how it usually works in the wizarding world. We also have most of these classes with Hufflepuff.” Patrick tried to smooth the paper out, but gave up. He looked up. “Is it different in Ilvermorny?”

“It’s different in the USA period! For example, no-majs, or ‘muggles’ as you call them, are not allowed to catch even a GLIMPSE of magic. The Magic President has it so that the no-majs can’t remember anything that has to do with magic. According to law and history, that is.”

Patrick gaped in shock. Poor boy couldn’t even form proper words. Marie nodded. They regained their own schedules and put them away. Marie opened her mouth to talk when a big yawn escaped her mouth. Patrick’s eyes sparkled in amusement.

“Knackered, huh?” Patrick stood up and offered his hand. “It’s pretty late, so we should get some sleep. After all, tomorrow is your first day of Hogwarts! Who wouldn’t want to miss that?” He chuckled.

Marie gripped Cynthia and took Patrick’s hand. “Thank you,” the American smiled, but then faltered once she stood up. She frowned with confusion. “What does ‘knackered’ mean?”

Patrick raised his eyebrows a bit, his lips twitched with amused bewilderment. He spoke through a smile, “Knackered means sleepy. I….” Before the boy finished he laughed. “I forgot you were American……” He laughed harder at this, bending over and covering his mouth.

Marie was startled and a bit worried. Was this boy really going to be alright? She thought, her frowning and confused demeanor was increasing. “How can you forget one’s ethnicity?” Marie glared at the ceiling. Looking back at the boy in front of her, expression calm. She patted Patrick. “You seem slap happy. We really should get to sleep.”

Patrick was about to enter the boy’s dorm, but turned to Marie and Cynthia. “Good night, Flint Sisters!” He grinned.

She smiled, unable to hide her trust. “Good night, Patrick Jameson.”

With that they went to their respected rooms. The two young wizards had very different lifestyles indeed. Marie had to stay up longer in order to keep Cynthia sound asleep for the whole night, but once Patrick felt the feather stuffed pillow, he didn’t wake up until morning. And what a morning that was!