Chapter 21
Morning came quickly. The whole castle was abuzz with Halloween excitement. The students were tempestuously conversing in their own groups of friends discussing their plans on how best to tackle Hogsmeade.
After a very hearty breakfast Sam and Dean were approached by Dumbledore and pulled aside.
"Gentlemen," the old Wizard began. "You have both done very well in your studies. I have been told by all the Professors that you have both excelled, and for what it's worth, I know you have struggled."
Dean was unconvinced. He was quite sure that he had been mediocre at best. Sam had obviously become far more advanced than him. He was proud of him to be sure, but he couldn't help but feel just a tad bit jealous. Although he knew he should have expected it as Sam had always been the brains and he was the brawn. Dean just grinned and nodded as he listened to Dumbledore speak.
"The staff have been impressed by both of you. And to thank you for the additional help in their classrooms, they have all come together to reward you both with these."
Dumbledore reached into his robes and retrieved two small velvet bags. He handed one to each of them and they could tell instantly that they were filled to the brim with coins.
Sam's eyes bulged at the weight of the bag. "Wow! Thank you so much." he said sincerely. "This is . . . this is all very, very generous."
"Yes, thank you." Dean chimed in.
"The few of us that know you are not, erm, locals," Dumbledore jested, "thought it would be best that you had the proper currency to properly enjoy yourselves in Hogsmeade today." And with that he chuckled. "You are sure to run into residents, and if anyone is to ask you are to tell them that you are here on a transfer program from Ilvermorny."
"Ilvermorny? What's that?" Dean repeated. He looked at Sam for clarification. To his surprise, Sam looked just as confused as he did.
"I've never heard of Ilvermorny. That wasn't in the. . . I mean, I haven't read about it." Sam said.
Dumbledore looked amused. "Ah!" he said. "So there are indeed things that you do not know about our world afterall." He almost seemed pleased as the words came from his mouth. "Ilvermorny is the American School of Witchcraft and Wizardry."
Sam instantly had the look of a child on Christmas morning as an audible gasp escaped him. "There are more schools? I mean, I know about Durmstrang and Beauxbatons, but there are more than that?
Again, Dumbledore seemed to be highly entertained by the conversation. "How is it that you know about Durmstrang and Beauxbatons and not Ilvermorny?"
"Because Hogwarts hosts the Tri-Wizard Tourn . . . aaaaah crap that's the fourth book." Sam closed his eyes tightly and winced as if he had accidentally just given away the finale to someone's favorite TV show.
"As a matter of fact, yes! We are in negotiations for the next school year to take part in the first Tri-Wizard Tournament since 1792. Fear not, young man. You have not given away any major plot points.'' Dumbledore chuckled.
"Thank goodness for that!" Sam said, highly relieved.
"There are 11 such schools, my lad, Ilvermorny is home to the Americans. Their Houses are quite different than ours. I have an inkling which houses you may belong to if you are interested. In fact, it may help with your story if someone were to inquire."
Sam was almost bursting with anticipation. "Yes, of course!"
"A good cover story is never a bad thing." Dean sniffed.
"Dean, you are most likely in Wampus, Sam, you are in all likelihood in Horned Serpent."
"WAMPUS?" Dean blurted out. "Like bad Santa?"
"That's Crampus. The Wampus is in Native American culture if I remember correctly. Kinda like a half man, half cougar thing." said Sam.
"Cougars, huh?" Dean lifted an eyebrow silkily.
"The animal kind!" Sam shot back.
"Heh, heh, heh." Dean laughed exaggeratedly.
"Ah!" said Dumbledore. "I see. Well then! You'll want to make sure to stop by the Three Broomsticks to see Madam Rosemerta then, won't you? Enjoy your day, gentlemen." he said and he walked away grinning.
Sam's jaw dropped. "Did he just. . . ?"
"Who is Madame Rosemerta?" Dean hyperbolized.
"She runs the. . . " Sam cut himself off. "I'm not even going to dignify that with an answer." He said as he walked off to join the flood of people exiting the Great Hall,
In the Entrance hall, near the front doors stood Mr. Filch with a long piece of parchment checking off student's names after confirming their permission slips were signed. He was looking perturbed as usual, but he was taking great joy in barking orders at the students, though most were ignoring him.
Sam and Dean joined the gathering groups outside where a few professors were gathering thier students in groups according to Houses.
"Ah!" exclaimed Minerva after seeing them. "There you are Professors! A hand if you please?"
"Of course!" said Sam, and both of them instantly got to work on crowd control. Pretty much every student third-year and above, with the exception of a few, were outside chatting away as they gathered into groups.
When everyone was accounted for, each House followed the next, lead by their Head Professors, and began to walk the path down to the gate and beyond to the road. It was easily a good 15 to 20 minute walk to Hogsmeade, during which several students were threatened with being sent back to the castle if their behavior didn't improve. At which point Severus walked by Dean and in a biting tone muttered, "Obstreperous" within his earshot.
Even in the cooling Autumn climate, the walk to Hogsmeade made everyone work up a sweat. Half of the students were quite out of breath, as were most of the staff. Minerva took up a position at the head of the crowd and announced a few ground rules for the students. She even threatend detention to all rule breakers, up to and including sanitation of the Owlery.
When all was said and done, Minerva said, "Now, enjoy your day, be safe, and all students are to report back to this spot no later than 4pm so we can make it back to the school in time for the Halloween Feast!"
There was a brief but fierce applause and students scattered. A large number of them were headed in the direction of Honeyduke's Sweetshop.
Minerva walked briskly over to Sam and Dean with a giant smile on her face. "Well!" she began. "How will you two be spending your day?"
Dean looked at Sam and decided to let him take the lead in this conversation.
Sam hesitated. "I, uh . . . we don't really know, to be honest." he shrugged with an awkward laugh.
"Oh! Well of course! You've never been here before. Shall I make a few suggestions?"
"Please!" they both said in unison.
"Well, there is Dervish and Bangs for Magical Instruments. Dogweed and Deathcap for Herbology, Severus usually spends most of his time there. There is a music shop. Gladrags has clothes, you may want to stop in there. Honeydukes for your sweet-tooth. If you are looking for tea or coffee, there is Madam Puddifoot's. A quill shop. There are two pubs, The Hog's Head and The Three Broomsticks. A bookshop, Sam I think you'll like it. There is a joke shop, that'd be Zonko's, best you stay out of there lest the students get it in their heads to prank you later."
"Yeah, let's not." said Dean.
"There is one shop in particular that I think both of you should visit."
"Which one is that?" asked Sam.
"Spintwitches Sporting Needs." she said with a smile. "I have a feeling that they will have a few things you'll be needing in the near future."
Dean grinned. "Alright."
"And of course I haven't forgotten my promise to you both. If the chill becomes too much, come find me at The Three Broomsticks."
"We will." assured Sam.
With that, Minerva turned on her heels and headed in the direction of the Three Broomsticks.
The brothers looked at each other and shrugged.
"What was the name of the sports shop?" Dean asked.
"Spintwitches."
"Let's check it out and then head to the bar."
"Sure."
Spintwitches Sporting Needs was packed with students, mostly those who were on the Quidditch House Teams. They were oogling over brooms, and fawning over Quidditch robes.
Oliver Wood stood near a display case of brooms so close he fogged up the glass with every breath. He only briefly looked up when he realized he was being watched to see Sam and Dean on the other side.
"Coach Winchester!" Oliver exclaimed in his thick scottish brogue.
"Coach?" Dean quickly asked under his breath, his voice betraying his shock.
Sam looked at his brother and with a nervous smile. "Assistant . . . Coach."
Dean looked at him with a confused but jealous look. "Dude, Come on! I thought I was going to teach sports?"
"Muggle Sports, actually." Sam said to clarify. "And I'm not teaching sports, per se. I just assisting Madam Hooch with Quidditch, that's all! I swear!" he said with his hands up.
Oliver rounded the case and put his hand out with the intent on shaking Sam's.
"Looking forward to Quodpot next semester." he said, taking hold of Sam's hand. "I love Quidditch more than anything, but Quodpot will be a nice change from the norm, you know."
"Yeah. You bet." Sam said still with his nervous smile. Oliver walked off and Dean stepped into the place where the young Keeper had stood.
"Sam? What the hell is a Quodpot?" he pressed.
"It's a. . . .game." Sam answered slowly.
"It's a sport isn't it?"
"From what I've read it's like the American version of Quidditch. But this version has an exploding ball and a cauldron."
Dean stewed.
"Look, I wouldn't have taken the position if I had something, anything else that I could teach."
"Let's just grab our balls and go to the bar." Dean said trying to skip through the moment. He winced at the statement as soon as it came out of his mouth. Sam smiled and laughed.
"Shut up, Sammy." he said and walked off at a fast clip toward the counter to talk to the Wizard who ran the shop.
After a full hour in the shop, they had succsessfully ordered a plethera of Muggle sports equipment to be delivered directly to the castle as they did not carry them in the store. Dean insisted on paying for them out of his share, insisting that he was the Coach. Sam ordered about half a dozen Quods himself, which he paid for.
They found themselves outside of The Three Broomsticks after a quick jaunt down the road. The place was full of students and a few of the Professors.
After a cursory glance around, Minerva waved at them from her place at the bar in between a man and a group of chatty 5th years.. They waded through the crowded tables and joined her.
"Well! It's about time you two showed up!" she said with a touch of haziness in her eyes.
She reached over the bar and caught the attention of the bartender. A good looking woman in her early 40s, with dark blond hair streaked with lighter tones sauntered up with a smile.
"Yes, Minerva? What can I get you?" she said. Her eyes moved over the three of them, staying a little too long on Dean. "Hello." she said, her smile growing.
Dean completely forgot his frustration and smiled back. "Well, hello to you too." he replied.
Sam rolled his eyes.
"Rosmerta, dear, three firewhiskeys please."
"Blishen's or Ogden's?"
"Heavens me! Ogden's of course!" Minerva said clutching her hand to her chest. If Sam didn't know her better he'd almost think she was offended if not for the slightest hint of a smirk.
A few moments later Rosmerta returned with three shotglasses in her hands filled to the brims with an ambery red liquid. Minerva slid a few Sickles across the bartop and quickly handed Sam and Dean their shots.
"To Physical Education in the ciriculum!" she clinked her shotglass and drank before the brothers could even say 'cheers'. Her glass was back on the bar a few seconds later. She smiled, pat them both on the back and left the two of them alone.
Sam and Dean watched as she made for the door, swaying gently. They looked back at each other and laughed. They clinked glasses for real and threw them back. They swallowed and instantly their mouths were on fire. Worse yet, so were their throats. They coughed and sputtered not expecting the reaction.
"Oh my god!" said Dean.
Sam was trying to form a coherent sentence but kept on choking. "Wow!" -cough cough cough.- "Didn't expect that!" -cough cough- "It really -" -cough-
"Burns like Hell?" asked a familiar voice. It came from the man that had been sitting at the bar next to them.
Dean turned wide eyed and whirled around.
"Crowley . . ."