Scott, Ordinary and Extraordinary

"Hey!"

Roger said with a huff, "Don't tell me you've been charmed by Lockhart's sparkling, idiotic grin too?"

"Although the photo on the cover is silly, there is some knowledge in the book worth looking at," Scott offered an objective assessment.

Roger, however, began to complain, "You know, I have a feeling Lockhart's teaching level might be even worse than Quirrell's. He seems more like a celebrity than a professor. Honestly, I really don't understand why Dumbledore always finds such eccentric people to be the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor. It leaves us having to rely almost entirely on self-study to get through the exams in this subject."

He was clearly losing confidence in the new school year's Defense Against the Dark Arts class as well.

Scott thought for a moment and guessed, "It's probably because almost no wizards are willing to apply for this position. After all... judging by past history, the curse on this course must be real, which leads many witches and wizards to avoid it like the plague. Oh, except for Snape."

After all, the Defense Against the Dark Arts position at Hogwarts had changed every year for decades, and quite a few professors who held the post hadn't met a good end.

This fact was well-known throughout the British magical community.

"That's the only possible reason Lockhart could have become a professor."

Roger reluctantly accepted this answer.

"If it were Snape..."

He continued to imagine, following Scott's train of thought...

"If Snape successfully landed the Defense Against the Dark Arts position... then the most likely outcome is that he would leave Hogwarts for good after a year, right? If you ask me, why doesn't Dumbledore just grant his request?"

Roger had suffered enough of Snape's venomous tongue in past Potions classes that the mere possibility of Snape leaving Hogwarts made him uncontrollably excited.

"That's obviously impossible."

Scott mercilessly shattered his delusions.

"Dumbledore wouldn't let Snape become a consumable for that position. Although Snape's teaching style in Potions is hard to adapt to, he is, after all, a precious Potions Master."

"I know," Roger said, deflated, "so I can only imagine it."

The two chatted away like this until they finished all the food Scott had brought.

"So, did you come to find me specifically just to help me finish off the food, Roger?"

Scott packed the trash into a bag.

"No," Roger said, "I wanted to ask if you'd like to participate in the Quidditch house team tryouts? After all, you know, we've had players graduate again."

"No need. I hope you remember that I participated with you back in my second year, and unfortunately, I didn't make the cut."

Scott set the trash aside and rejected Roger's proposal.

"But you're still interested in Quidditch, aren't you? And you have talent, remember, Scott? When you tried out in your second year, your throws were very accurate..." He lowered his voice, "...it was just that you were a bit lacking in the flying department, which is why you didn't make it."

When the topic of Quidditch came up, Roger was as excited as most young wizards. He was looking forward to playing on the pitch with his friend.

"Listen, our team is currently short one Chaser, and I think you should give it a try. I have a feeling you'll succeed this time!"

Scott continued to shake his head. "Sorry, Roger. You know that after the first-year flying lessons, I haven't had the chance to train and improve my ability to handle a broomstick."

He was very clear about his flying ability; it wasn't enough to get him through a tense and exciting Quidditch match.

This wasn't strange; Muggle-born young wizards were indeed inferior to those from wizarding families when it came to the art of flying.

Unless they had flying talent as exceptional as Harry Potter's.

Young wizards from wizarding families started riding toy broomsticks before they could even walk, while Muggle-borns didn't encounter them until they enrolled at age eleven, and they had little opportunity to practice beyond the first-year flying lessons.

As for Scott's flying talent—it could only be described as mediocre.

Although he could improve his level through constant practice, his interest in Quidditch wasn't that high.

However, Roger didn't seem to take his words to heart; he continued to persuade him, "Are you planning to spend all your time studying like last year? Oh! That's terrible! You should realize that even if we are in Ravenclaw, it doesn't mean we don't need to have fun outside of our studies..."

"Stop."

Scott raised his hand to make Roger cease his incessant chatter.

"I know you want me to play on the team with you, Roger," he said, "but you are clearly blindly optimistic about your roommate's level."

Roger insisted, "I think you can do it. You're always so smart, Scott. You know, I didn't go and try to convince Milton to join Quidditch."

Milton Graves, their other roommate, was a sentimental, artistic boy whose greatest hobby was playing the cello.

"What an honor. Compared to Milton, I am indeed highly skilled."

Scott flashed a fake smile again.

One had to know that Milton's final evaluation in the first-year flying lesson was a D (Dreadful).

And Scott's evaluation was at least an A (Acceptable).

Seeing that Scott's attitude was firm, Roger could only say somewhat reluctantly, "Fine, your own wishes are what matter most."

After all... if Scott's flying was as stagnant as he claimed, he truly wouldn't be able to pass the tryouts.

Roger's goal in encouraging Scott to try out was to have Scott serve as a Chaser alongside him. He felt that as his best friend, Scott would display a level of tacit understanding on the pitch that he wouldn't have with anyone else.

But his hopes seemed to have been dashed.

"But I have to say, even in Ravenclaw, you're the one most obsessed with studying, Scott," Roger let go of the Quidditch topic and said with some exaggeration, "Especially last school year, you were completely devoted to those wooden blocks and stones of yours. You didn't even sit in the stands for the Quidditch matches!"

Although Scott's flying talent was mediocre and he had failed the Quidditch team tryouts in his second year, he had his own strengths.

Since he first enrolled as a first-year student, although his performance in most of the subjects offered at the school was never top-tier—merely hovering at a level that was neither particularly outstanding nor bad—he had always performed exceptionally well in Transfiguration.

The professor for this course was Minerva McGonagall, the Deputy Headmistress of Hogwarts and Head of Gryffindor House, a professor who was very strict with her students. Yet, even she could not help but smile and praise Scott, commending him for possessing an "extraordinary and superb talent" for the discipline of Transfiguration.

Scott felt that since he possessed such a gift, he should strive to make the most of his advantage. Therefore, he had always spent his spare time conducting in-depth research and experiments on topics related to Transfiguration.

The previous school year had been a critical period for his research, and in order to achieve visible and satisfying results, he had constantly raced against time to immerse himself in his work, which caused him to miss out on many activities.

At this moment, Roger's expression was as if Scott had committed some unforgivable sin simply by not attending the Quidditch match.

"Oh, thanks for the reminder." To this, Scott could only say with a smile, "I think I'll have an easier time this new school year; at the very least, I'll have the time to watch your Quidditch matches."