The Ordinary and Extraordinary Scott

"Hey!"

Roger said irritably, "Don't tell me you've been captivated by Lockhart's dazzling, stupid grin too?"

"Though the photo on the cover is silly, there's still some knowledge in the book worth reading," Scott said objectively.

Roger began to complain. "You know, I have a feeling Lockhart's teaching might be even worse than Quirrell's. He seems more like a celebrity than a professor. Honestly, I can't understand why Dumbledore keeps hiring such odd people to teach Defense Against the Dark Arts. We're practically left to teach ourselves the subject just to pass the exams."

He had clearly lost faith in the new school year's Defense Against the Dark Arts classes too.

Scott thought for a moment, then guessed, "There probably aren't many wizards who'd apply for the job. After all... judging by its history, the curse on the position is probably real, so plenty of witches and wizards would steer clear of it. Oh, except Snape."

After all, Hogwarts had gone through a different Defense Against the Dark Arts professor every year for decades, and many of those who had taken the post had met rather unfortunate ends.

This was widely known throughout the British Wizarding World.

"That may be the only reason Lockhart got the job."

Roger reluctantly accepted the explanation.

"If it were Snape..."

He began to imagine what Scott had said...

"If Snape managed to get the Defense Against the Dark Arts position... the most likely outcome would be that he left Hogwarts for good a year later. If you ask me, why doesn't Dumbledore just grant his request?"

Roger had suffered plenty of Snape's verbal venom in Potions class over the years. Just imagining the possibility of Snape leaving Hogwarts made him so excited he could barely contain himself.

"That obviously isn't going to happen."

Scott mercilessly crushed his fantasy.

"Dumbledore wouldn't let Snape become expendable in that position. Snape's teaching style in Potions might be hard to get used to, but he's still a valuable Potions Master."

"I know," Roger said dejectedly. "So all I can do is imagine it."

The two chatted as they finished all the food Scott had brought.

"So you came all this way just to help me finish my food, Roger?"

Scott packed the trash into a bag.

"No," Roger said. "I wanted to ask if you'd try out for the Quidditch team. You know we've had another player graduate."

"No, thanks. I hope you remember that you and I tried out in second year, and unfortunately, I didn't make the team."

Scott set the bag of trash aside and turned down Roger's offer.

"But you're still interested in Quidditch, aren't you? And you've got talent, remember, Scott? You were really accurate with your throws at the tryouts in second year..." He lowered his voice. "You only missed out because you weren't as good at flying."

Whenever Quidditch came up, Roger got as excited as most young wizards. He was eager to play alongside his friend.

"Listen, our team happens to be short a Chaser. I think you should give it a try, and I think you'll make it this time!"

Scott shook his head again. "Sorry, Roger. You know I haven't had a chance to practice or improve my broom-flying since Flying Class in first year."

He knew his flying ability wasn't good enough for an intense Quidditch Match.

That wasn't surprising. Muggle-born young wizards really couldn't match those from wizarding families when it came to flying.

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

Young wizards from wizarding families started riding toy brooms as soon as they could walk. Muggle-born young wizards didn't get their first chance until they started school at eleven, and after their first-year Flying Class, they rarely had any opportunities to practice.

As for Scott's flying talent... it was only average.

Though he could improve a little with practice, he wasn't all that interested in Quidditch anyway.

Roger didn't seem to take his words in, and kept trying to persuade him. "Are you planning to spend all your time studying again, like last school year? Oh, that's terrible! You should realize that even though we're in Ravenclaw, that doesn't mean we don't need to have fun as well as study..."

"Stop."

Scott raised a hand to make Roger quit his prattling.

"I know you want me to play alongside you, Roger," he said. "But you're obviously being blindly optimistic about your roommate's ability."

Roger insisted, "I think you can do it. You're always so clever, Scott. Besides, I haven't tried to persuade Milton to join the team."

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

"I'm honored. Compared to Milton, I'm certainly a brilliant flyer."

Scott put on another fake smile.

After all, Milton's final grade in first-year Flying Class had been D (Dreadful).

Scott, at least, had received an A (Acceptable).

Seeing how firmly Scott had made up his mind, Roger could only say, a little reluctantly, "All right. What you want is most important."

After all... if Scott's flying really hadn't improved, as he said, he wouldn't be able to pass the tryouts.

Roger had encouraged Scott to try out because he wanted them to play as Chasers on the team together. He thought that as his best friend, Scott would share a special understanding with him during matches that he wouldn't have with anyone else.

But it seemed his hopes had been dashed.

"But I have to say, even in Ravenclaw, you're one of the most obsessed with studying, Scott." Roger gave up on Quidditch and pulled an exaggerated face. "Especially last year. You were completely absorbed in those wooden blocks and stones of yours. You didn't even sit in the stands to watch the Quidditch Matches!"

Scott might have had only average flying talent and failed to make the Quidditch team in second year, but he had his own strengths.

Since starting school in first year, Scott had been good at most of the subjects on the curriculum, though he was never top of the class. His performance was neither outstanding nor poor. But he excelled in Transfiguration.

The subject was taught by Minerva McGonagall, the deputy headmistress of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry and head of Gryffindor House. She was a professor who was extremely strict with her students. Yet even she couldn't help smiling as she praised Scott, saying he had "an exceptionally brilliant talent far above the rest" for Transfiguration.

Scott felt that since he had this kind of talent, he ought to work hard to make the most of it. So he had spent his free time delving into Transfiguration-related topics and experiments.

The previous school year had been a crucial period for his research. To achieve visible, impressive results, he had always raced against the clock, immersing himself in his work and missing out on many activities.

At that moment, Roger looked as though Scott had committed some unforgivable crime by not going to watch the Quidditch Matches.

"Oh, thanks for reminding me," Scott said with a smile. "I think I'll have an easier time in the new school year. At the very least, I'll have time to watch your Quidditch Matches."