A/N: Just to clarify, I noticed that some people were confused in regards to Arthur being a half-blood while his family members are all pureblood. There is a background story to Arthur's situation, but that will be revealed later in the story :) My apologies if there is any confusion, but I just don't want to give away plot points. If you have questions and would like to understand the background better, you can always shoot me a PM! :)
And also, I wanted to thank all of you for your reviews, favorites, and alerts! They've made me really happy :)
So, without further ado, enjoy!
Different
Chapter 2
After that tour, Arthur was fairly sure he'd never see the likes of Alfred ever again unless he was placed in Slytherin. The boy was definitely a chatter-box and it had been extremely difficult to grab (and keep) his attention throughout the tour. Alfred was unsure of what classes he'd be taking, so Arthur ended up showing him practically every classroom throughout the castle. By the end of the tour, Arthur felt his legs were about to buckle beneath him. Alfred, however, appeared to be a never-ending ball of pure energy and was flying up and down the moving stairs like an overly-excited pixie.
Everything about Hogwarts seemed to amaze Alfred. It was as if he had never seen magic before. Well, apparently, magic was practiced differently in the United States than in England. To Alfred, the wizarding world in England was very old, "practically ancient" as Alfred said himself. Alfred kept pointing at the hats and robes of the students, snickering to himself about how "18th century" the wizards and witches of England were.
Well, pardon his French, but Arthur felt that was a load of bullocks. The witches and wizards of England were most certainly not "18th century", thank you very much. Robes were very much in fashion, and new styles came out nearly every year. But apparently, robes just weren't good enough for Americans. They dressed like Muggles, according to Alfred. While there was nothing inherently wrong with wearing Muggle clothing, to dislike robes and not wear them at all was utterly ridiculous and improper.
Arthur smirked, however, every time Alfred tripped over his own robes, a tad too long for him. Perhaps that was why Alfred was complaining about them so much…
There were other aspects of Alfred that got on Arthur's nerves quite a bit. For one thing, it was that dreadful accent. It grated his ears every time he heard Alfred speak, which was often. Arthur wasn't sure from which region in the United States Alfred was from, but whatever region it was, the people there ought to be ashamed for how they completely bastardized the English language. Alfred was thoroughly impressed with Arthur's English accent, however, and kept commenting on just about every word that passed through his mouth.
Arthur had dropped Alfred back to the headmaster's office after the tour. Alfred almost seemed to pout a little, but he perked right back up, slapped Arthur on the back (with quite a lot of force), and told him he'd see him around later.
Well, not to be rude, but Arthur was fairly certain he'd never allow himself to stand even three feet near that boy again. Alfred's ego and presence were humungous. He was boisterous and obnoxious, and nearly everyone stared as the two of them walked along the halls during the tour. Arthur knew he wouldn't be caught dead hanging around that boy ever again, but unfortunately for him, fate had other ideas in mind…if only he had taken Divination, perhaps he would have seen this coming.
"Hey! Arthur! Over here!" Alfred shouted, waving both of his arms in the air in a foolish attempt to grab Arthur's attention. Like Arthur would have needed Alfred's flailing arms to notice him. His voice was loud enough. They were in the Great Hall, and Arthur assumed that Alfred, like himself, was here to have supper. Rolling his eyes, Arthur was just about to confront Alfred when he noticed something about Alfred's appearance.
Alfred's tie was gold and crimson, as well as the insignia on his robes.
Ah. So he was in Gryffindor.
Pointedly turning around in the other direction, Arthur seated himself near the end of the Slytherin table. He could still hear Alfred trying to catch his attention behind him, but he tried his best to ignore the shouts.
Alfred approached the table five seconds later, frantically waving his hand in front of Arthur's face. "Hello? Earth to Arthur?"
"What?" Arthur shouted, fairly irritated at this point.
Alfred looked taken aback for a moment before readjusting his expression back to its signature smile. "Dude, I just wanted to know if you wanted to sit together for dinner or something," he said, almost as if he was oblivious to the situation.
Arthur leveled Alfred with a look that read, "Never in a million years", but it didn't register in the slightest. He promptly plopped himself next to Arthur, grabbed himself a plate and began piling food on top of it.
Furrowing his brows, Arthur asked, "Just what do you think you're doing?"
With a chicken wing in his mouth, Alfred's muffled reply was, "Eating."
"Well, anyone can see that!"
Arthur continued to look at the boy, who seemed to just shrug his shoulders and continue to eat as if he didn't notice the stares from everyone around him. "Oi, Alfred, you do realize that you're sitting at the Slytherin table, don't you?"
Alfred turned his head to stare back at Arthur with a questioning look in his eyes. "Yeah, so?" he said. He continued to shovel food into his mouth.
"So?" Arthur asked, his eyes starting to widen a bit. "Alfred, are you aware that students in Gryffindor and Slytherin…don't get along too well?"
"Really?" Alfred asked, a bit of mashed potatoes lying on the corner of his lips. "Why?"
"I-I don't know why, we just find the other house…irritating" Arthur answered. "And you're not supposed to eat at the Slytherin table if you're in Gryffindor! You're only supposed to eat at the Gryffindor table. The house prefects need to be able to gather all of their house members in the event of an emergency, and you sitting here is problematic," Arthur finished, starting to feel the stares on his back that his peers were giving him. Quickly darting his eyes to the table full of students and back to Alfred, he then whispered, "Can't you see everyone staring at us?"
Alfred finally decided to take in his surroundings, turning his head to look down the table. "Oh, yeah, sorry, guess no one told me…"
Arthur sniffed. "Well, now you know."
"Yeah…well, catch you later then, Artie," Alfred said, gathering his plate and heading towards Gryffindor's table.
However, it took about three seconds too late for Arthur to realize the nickname he had just been given. Turning his head towards Alfred's retreating back, Arthur shouted, "My name is not 'Artie!'"
That should have been the last encounter between the two, but no, Alfred couldn't have that. He seemed to believe that Arthur didn't mind his presence and that the two of them were great friends, or something, because the next thing Arthur knew was that he was being followed by the moron everywhere he went. If he was walking to the library, Alfred would walk with him and sit down next to him at the table. If Arthur was walking to his class, Alfred would join him until he had to turn in the other direction for his own class. If Arthur was walking to the lavatories, Alfred would be right by his side, the entire fucking time.
It honestly felt like Alfred was a lost puppy who thought Arthur was his owner. Alfred was clinging to Arthur for some bizarre reason, and Arthur could hardly stand it.
Rounding a corner while turning his head in both directions, Arthur searched for any sign of Alfred. He was on his way to the library, wanting to read up on the properties of Devil's Snare roots for a potion he needed to make for class the next day. Hoping not to run into any airheads on the way, Arthur was paying careful attention to his surroundings. When the coast was deemed clear, he headed down the corridor to the library.
The musky scent of old texts nearly sent Arthur into a tizzy. He took in a deep breath, appreciating the smell. The library was a wonderful place, not just to study, but to simply relax, read, and pass the time. It was Arthur's favorite place in the entire school. Sometimes, Arthur would read late into the night on ancient texts and cultures, learning all about wizarding practices from around the globe. It would be difficult to find a job that would allow Arthur to do nothing but study the wizarding histories of these ancient civilizations, so he decided to take in as much information now while he had the chance. Besides, his family wasn't likely to approve of such an occupation…it would require further schooling, no doubt…and besides, gaining a high rank in the Ministry was much more important, and what he and his brothers were expected to vie for.
Running his fingers along the texts, Arthur finally found the book he was looking for. He sat down at a nearby table, searching through the index to find the exact properties he would be required to know. Too engrossed with what he was doing, Arthur failed to realize that a certain someone had decided to sit down next to him at that very moment.
It wasn't until a "hey, Arthur!" was whispered into his ear that he noticed the other's presence. The breath, which was both unexpected and tickled his ear, caused Arthur to jump on the spot. Clutching his chest, Arthur turned to glare at the culprit.
"What the bloody hell do you think you're doing?" Arthur whispered angrily, looking around to see if anyone was watching them.
"Just thought I'd sit down and study with you, dude," Alfred replied happily, once again oblivious to Arthur's irritation.
Pinching the bridge of his nose, Arthur closed his eyes and took in a deep breath. As soon as he let it out, he asked, "Why must you always follow me?"
Alfred merely shrugged his shoulders. Arthur let out a sigh. His attempts to avoid Alfred had been unsuccessful, so the least he could do was suck it up and deal with the situation.
In an attempt to ignore Alfred, Arthur decided to pour over his book. The boy, however, didn't know a thing about a little something called "personal space" and decided to peer over Arthur's shoulder as he read. "Devil's Snare root, huh?" he said. "What, are you making a potion or somethin'?"
Muttering an irritated "yes", Arthur tried to shift away from Alfred's much-too-close head.
"Yeah, Devil's Snare root is pretty good when making certain poisons, like the one that constricts your throat, or the other one that constricts veins and stuff…" Alfred said, his voice suddenly taking on what Arthur could only describe as a logical and intelligent tone. Confused, Arthur turned towards Alfred.
"And why exactly do you know all this?" he asked, bewildered by this new side of Alfred.
"Huh? Well, it figures that Devil's Snare root deals with constricting. I mean, you probably already know about how Devil's Snare chokes victims and keeps growing as you struggle, so it only makes sense that the root has similar properties…But if you really are making a potion, make sure to never leave the roots by an open window or something. The light will mess up the root pretty badly," he explained. Soon after, Alfred moved his head away from peering over Arthur's shoulder to read his own book, entitled, "Astronomy: A Cosmic Perspective" and began to pour over its pages.
Confused beyond all reason, Arthur tapped Alfred's shoulder and asked, "What year are you in, by the way?"
Alfred looked up and smiled. "I'm technically a fourth-year here because I'm taking a bunch of fourth-year level classes," he said, digging through his pockets and procuring a schedule. Flattening it out on the desk, he began to explain, "But I've also got a History of Magic first-year class, and I don't have to take Transfiguration or Herbology, like, at all!" Alfred said happily. "They gave me a lot of practice tests and I completely blew those two away. Besides, I have credits from my W.O.L.F.s for those classes anyway. Also, I've got-"
"W.O.L.F.s?" Arthur interrupted. "What are those?"
"Oh, they're like O.W.L.s here, I guess. Stands for Wizarding Optimal Level Fulfilled," he answered.
"Ah, I didn't know that…" Arthur said as he knit his eyebrows together, taking in this new information. Just what were those American wizarding academies like?
"So yeah, my W.O.L.F.s covered those classes. I think I'm doing well in Potions here too, so I might move up to a fifth-year level. I really hope I do, that'd be freaking sweet!" he said excitedly as he looked at Arthur. Was Arthur expected to respond?
Coughing into his hand, Arthur replied, "Oh, uh, yes, that would be very good, I expect…"
Taking that as his queue to speak again, Alfred continued, "I also tried taking first-year Astronomy here because it sounded wicked awesome! But I found out yesterday that it's more like astrology than astronomy, so that majorly sucked," he said while pouting.
"Well, they're the same thing, aren't they?" Arthur asked.
"Of course not!" Alfred exclaimed with an affronted look on his face. "Astrology is complete bullshit if you ask me," he said, resting his head on his hand while frowning slightly.
Arthur felt slightly defensive after this last statement, however, even though he had never taken astronomy in his life. "Well, if you don't like the subject, don't take it!"
"Believe me, I didn't need to be told that twice…" Alfred laughed, lifting his head to look back down at his book.
It seemed as if Alfred was no longer going to talk, which came as quite a surprise to Arthur. Also, for once, they had completed what appeared to be a civil conversation. Turning back to his own book, Arthur poured over the properties of different plants he'd need for his potion tomorrow, but his mind was too distracted by what Alfred had told him.
He had never been interested in the United States and their world of magic before. Some of the things that went on in that country irritated him, while others amazed him. However, he was much too engrossed in the going-ons in Europe, and especially England, to be even remotely interested to finding out what went down across the Atlantic.
However, questions were now being raised in his head. Just how had Alfred transferred to Hogwarts, and why? What were the W.O.L.F.s like and what the hell did it matter the difference between astronomy and astrology? And, was it even possible that Jones was smarter than he let on?
Alfred obviously didn't know a thing about wizarding history and its origins in Europe if he had to take a first-year History of Magic class. Arthur wondered what the history of magic was like in America, what its origins were and how colonization had affected the practice of magic in both North and South America.
All of a sudden, Alfred was…interesting.
There was a ton of information that Arthur could gather from him, and he had a sudden urge to spew out questions then and there.
Self-control. Arthur just need a little bit of self-control. It seemed as if Alfred would be hanging around him for a while, so Arthur had plenty of time to ask a question here or there to find out more regarding the history of magic in America.
How Arthur wished he could study wizarding history for the rest of his life… Too bad his family would disapprove…
The next day, as expected, Arthur was accompanied by Alfred to his next class. What he hadn't expected, however, was for Alfred to continue following him down into the dungeons for Potions.
"Listen, Alfred, I know you're eager to see me to my classes for some odd reason, but it's very annoying when you accompany me all the way the classroom," he said, glaring over his right shoulder at the slightly taller boy.
"Dude, don't flatter yourself," Alfred said while rolling his eyes. "I've got Potions next," he said, holding up the cauldron that had been in his hand the entire time.
Arthur's eyes widened. "What? You actually got into the fifth-year class?" he asked.
"Yeah, I know! I'm excited, I love Potions!" Alfred clutched his Potions textbook tightly to his chest, nearly bouncing by the time they reached the door of the classroom.
As they both entered, Professor Slughorn, a jolly old man (a very, very old man) immediately hobbled over to Alfred's side. "Ah, Alfred, I see you've actually decided to move up a level!" Alfred smiled up at the Professor, answering him with a "yessir!", much to the delight of the elderly gentleman.
"Well then, m'boy, why don't you take a seat at this table here?" the Professor said as he guided Alfred and his belongings to a nearby table, the one Arthur also used.
As both student and professor set up the equipment, Arthur took out the notes he had made himself about each ingredient's properties and turned to the page in his textbook where the potion's instructions could be found. It was called "Constricting Solution" and it constricted the air flow of all who drank it. Alfred, then, had been right about the Devil's Snare roots. Looking back at his fellow classmate, he noticed that Alfred and the Professor were in a deep conversation about, well, something. Arthur really wasn't able to take it in. Something about a certain stirring technique used in antidotes…?
Arthur determinedly looked to his own cauldron and instructions. He set the flame at the perfect level and gathered all necessary ingredients. Potions wasn't his…strongest class. He always managed to screw up whatever he made somehow. No matter how hard he tried to perfect the art of brewing potions, he could never get them just right. His brothers once ran off scared after he made soup one day, thinking that it was quite possibly poison rather than a simple carrot stew. But then again, Arthur wasn't that great of a cook either, according to many, many people…
A half-hour later, after setting fire to his robes twice, Arthur was certain he should probably never be allowed near a stove in general. Coughing and waving his hand in front of his face of the umpteenth time that day, Arthur glared to where Alfred was brewing his Constricting Solution with practiced ease, as if he had done this a thousand times. Huffing, Arthur attempted to fix his mess of a potion and began to stir clockwise, as the instructions dictated. Or was it counterclockwise? How could anyone possibly keep track of all these damn instructions, anyhow?
By the end of class, Arthur was feeling particularly murderous. He had failed to complete his potion, even though he had studied all of the ingredients the day before. No matter what he did, and no matter how hard he tried, he could not for the life of him brew a proper potion. Sighing, Arthur gathered his belongings into his arms and headed out of the classroom. He closed his eyes, thinking about a cup of tea he was going to make as soon as he got back to the Slytherin dormitories…
But his thoughts were interrupted, once again, by Alfred. "Dude, you totally failed in class today! Did you singe your eyebrows off?" he asked while running up to Arthur.
Arthur sent him a look that read "back-off-or-I'll-murder-you-in-your-sleep", but it went past Alfred, yet again. "Anyway, Artie, I was wondering if you wanted to grab dinner and sit somewhere else. You know, like, not at a table so we won't be breaking any of those stupid rules and stuff!"
"Jones…" Arthur said slowly.
"Yeah? And it's Alfred, by the way," he corrected.
Arthur breathed in deeply. "Why the fuck do you keep harassing me?" he asked, stopping in his tracks.
"Huh?" was Alfred's intelligent reply. "I dunno, I guess I just like hanging out with you and stuff? You're a pretty weird guy. Interesting, but weird," he answered.
"In case you haven't noticed, Jones, I don't particularly enjoy your company," Arthur stated, his voice low and steady. "Nor do you seem to have realized that you're still in Gryffindor and I'm still in Slytherin, and therefore everyone keeps giving us looks!" He said, whipping his head around to catch a few people who had been whispering to themselves about the both of them.
"Yeah, well, I haven't really made many friends, you know…" Alfred said glumly.
"Then form a study group or join the Quidditch team or something!" Arthur shouted, waving an arm in the air for emphasis.
"You guys have a Quidditch team?" Alfred asked, his mood having suddenly picked up as his eyes widened at this new piece of information.
"Well of course we have a Quidditch team! Now let me be, I'm very busy…" Arthur said as he stormed off to the Slytherin dormitories.
A few days later, Gryffindor held try-outs for new Quidditch team members. Alfred was their new keeper. And boy, did everyone love Alfred then.
A/N: Thank you for reading! Critiques are loved!
