WHO: Robinet Burke & Rolf Scamander. WHAT: Scenes from an unlikely friendship. WHEN: Years ago. WHERE: Hogwarts.
Rolf didn’t know a great deal about the Burke family — the Scamanders’ long magical lineage was too littered with muggles and muggleborns to ever properly rub elbows with Sacred 28 families — but he knew enough to know a Hufflepuff Burke was an anomaly. This made Robinet Burke interesting. Interesting people, Rolf thought, were always worth knowing.
Herbology was not the only class the Hufflepuffs and Slytherins had together, but it was the first, and Rolf made a point of sitting at a table across the aisle from the Burke boy. There was a puffapod placed in front of each chair, and Professor Sprout was in the midst of discussing the medicinal properties of the plant’s shining beans when Rolf leaned across the aisle. “Hello, Robinet Burke,” he whispered. “I’m Rolf Scamander.”
Beat. What else did one say when introducing themselves?
A slow smile started in the Slytherin’s eyes as he added, “And I’m going to be the greatest magizoologist in the world.”
Robin lifted his head slightly at the whisper, looking up from the plant to the person who’d said his name. He wasn’t especially interested in the plants — he could take or leave them — but he found it easier to zone out and start daydreaming if he was staring intently at something. He blinked at the other boy, Rolf Scamander, and tilted his head just slightly so he could hear him better.
There was a moment of silence and then Robin’s eyebrows lifted. “A Scamander being a magizoologist? I’ve never heard of that before.”
The sarcasm flew directly over Rolf’s head and his smile transformed into a concerned frown. “Never?” he asked, clearly taken aback. “But you must’ve heard of my grandfather, Newt Scamander.”
Robin looked at Rolf, frowning, and then he decided that it would be stupid to pass up such a perfect opportunity that had just landed in his lap. He shook his head. “Did he get turned into a newt?”
“No,” Rolf said slowly, drawing the vowel out. “It’s short for Newton.”
“Oh.” Robin visibly deflated. “That’s less interesting then.” There was a part of him that had consistently hoped that Scamander’s had actually been turned into animals at some point. It would be very fitting. He’d have told everyone immediately. “Sorry ‘bout that bad luck there.”
“He’s still very interesting,” Rolf shot back, suddenly feeling defensive of his beloved grandfather. He hadn’t anticipated the conversation turning into this and he wanted to get it back on track. “He was a Hufflepuff too, you know.”
Robin slumped in his seat and looked at the puffapod again. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see other Hufflepuffs, the flash of yellow on their robes. His brethren. “Oh yeah. Earnest people and animal lovers here. That sounds about right.”
“Too bad we can’t trade houses,” Rolf joked, very much aware that his personality fit the mold of Hufflepuff rather than Slytherin. But part of him liked being different — an anomaly, like Robinet Burke. He reached across the aisle to give the Hufflepuff a pat on the arm, to comfort. “I happen to think Hufflepuffs are very cool.”
Robinet blinked a few times, surprised by the casual friendliness, the easy way the other boy had reached out. He couldn’t quite hide his startled expression, although he tried to once he realised it was there. “I happen to think you’re wrong,” he said, instead. That morning, he’d seen one of the girls in his year fervently defend her collection of small comic book figurines. It was not cool. It had been deeply not cool. “But if you want to answer to Robinet for the next seven years, be my guest.”
Rolf shook his head and laughed softly, airy and happy-go-lucky. “I think I’ll stick with Rolf, if that’s okay.” His glance slid aside for a moment, drifting over to Robinet’s plant, and the expression on his face changed into something more serious. “But maybe we can be friends?”
He offered Robinet a smile that came out crooked.
Robin was suddenly very suspicious. Maybe this guy was a Hufflepuff. Maybe the relation to Hufflepuffs made you more earnest. Maybe in the future all his relations would be so earnest they straight up asked people if they could be friends the first time they talked.
He shook his head, more out of instinct. “No thanks. I only collect enemies.”
Rolf’s smile fell away, a frown taking over. “Enemies? But I thought maybe you’d want to—” He was interrupted by Professor Sprout, who instructed him to start paying more attention to his puffapod. He tore his gaze away from Burke and poked at his plant with his wand. His appeal for friendship would have to wait.
*
“So why enemies?” Rolf asked, sliding into the open seat across from Robinet. The library was crowded, with groups of frazzled-looking students sitting in clusters at each table. Burke, however, was sitting alone. It had been four days since Rolf’s botched attempt to befriend the Hufflepuff, but he was feeling no less determined. His earnest smile lingered on Robinet before his gaze dropped down to the textbook splayed across the table. “And what are you reading?”
The book was a bog standard one he’d placed on the table in the hopes of getting some homework done, one of the transfiguration texts that had been assigned. It was probably abundantly obvious what it was once Rolf looked at it properly, but Robin lifted his head and lied anyway. “It’s a historical account of the world’s most gory eviscerations. I’d rate it four out of five.” He’d found, already, that the harder he leaned into the gory or weird the more people tended to side eye him and leave him alone. Robin didn’t want to be lonely, but the idea of being a Hufflepuff was still weird to him and uncomfortable. He didn’t like it. He liked himself. Therefore, he was happy with his own company.
It was all working out so far.
Kind of. He looked at Rolf Scamander briefly and then back at his book. “I enjoy collecting them. All different kinds. You can be my animal lover enemy.”
“All right, I’ll take it. For now, anyway.”
Rolf hummed as he settled back in his chair, his arms folding across his chest as he studied Robinet Burke. He knew it was a transfiguration textbook — the basic transfiguration formula was in bold print at the top of the page — but he decided to lean into the joke. “Are you going to tell me about the goriest evisceration or should I guess?”
There was a beat and then Robin said, flicking his gaze up briefly, “Guess.”
“Death by manticore. You can be bitten by their sharp teeth, slashed by their razor claws, then jabbed with the scorpion tail. It’s a very nasty way to die. I’ve only seen one once,” Rolf said with a smile full of mischief. He’d seen one once from a great distance and from behind several wards, but that didn’t seem like a necessary detail to add in.
“You’ve seen a manticore evisceration once?” Robin asked, the word still slightly careful in his mouth, like he wasn’t quite sure of the shape of it. He didn’t lean forward, but he looked at Rolf properly, assessing.
“Oh, no. Just a manticore. But that’d be—” Rolf chose his next word deliberately. “Interesting, I suppose.”
“Oh, okay,” Robinet said, lifting a hand to pass through his hair, fingernails scratching lightly at his scalp as he considered the book and then the boy in front of him. He could easily lapse back into silence. It was the perfect opening but curiosity had already reared its ugly head and Robin had a long history, already, of not knowing when to shut up. He had questions.
“Well, you can tell me about the manticore. Did it try to bite people? Did it try to cut someone up? Did it try to cut the landscape up?”
“I wasn’t very close to it,” Rolf admitted, but his expression turned thoughtful as he considered the rest of Robinet’s questions. “It was eating something — not a person — and it was singing? Because they sing to their prey. So it was very happy when I saw it. It looked very scary, though. I wanted to get closer to it but my grandad said it wasn’t a good idea.”
“They sing to their prey,” Robin repeated, with a thoughtful hum at the end. He looked past Rolf for a second, a slight curl to the corner of his mouth, a barely-there whisper of a smile. “It’s probably to draw people in. Get people like young you closer.”
Rolf regarded the other boy with wary forbearance. “I wouldn’t fall for that,” he said, the corners of his mouth turning upward, “but one hello my baby, hello my honey, hello my ragtime gal would get you killed.” He drew a finger across his throat for emphasis as he exhaled a laugh. “Instant death from a manticore sting.”
Robin watched the movement and then he laughed, sharp and delighted, a burst that died into silence quickly. “Dare you to.”
Rolf raised a brow. “Dare me to what?”
“Go sing it to a creature.”
“A creature… here?” Rolf looked around the library. His gaze landed on a group of third year girls who were huddled up around a nearby table. “Like a girl? Or an actual creature?”
Robinet frowned, deeply, because he didn’t want to smile. “A girl? You call girls creatures?” He dropped his voice, low, leaning forward with his forearms braced against the edge of the table. For a moment, it looked like he was going to share an intimate secret. “Is that because of your genetic visual defect that makes you see horns on everyone?
“I do not call girls creatures,” Rolf insisted, flushing deeply, “I think girls are lovely. I just wasn’t sure what you meant.” Suddenly sheepish, he ran a hand through his hair before he leaned forward, dropping his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “It’s a defect? Wait…”
He lunged forward, his hand waving in the space above Robinet’s head. “Those red horns aren’t real?”
Robin tensed, briefly, only relaxing when he realised it wasn’t an attack. It was a joke. He let out a laugh, less sharp than before. “No, those ones are real. The other ones you see, probably not so much.”
“Well,” Rolf said, lowering himself back down into his chair. His smile wavered with uncertainty. “Are we still enemies?”
“Most of the time,” Robin said, seriously. “I told you. I collect them.”
“Oh.” Rolf looked somewhat crestfallen for a moment before he gave Robinet a curious look. “What would make you reconsider?”
“Footage of a manticore evisceration.” Robin looked at Rolf, holding his gaze to show how serious he was.
“I don’t think that exists. But I can try to get you footage of something else, I suppose.” Rolf let out a resigned sigh as he extended a hand. “Until then, I’m willing to settle for mostly enemies.”
Robin eyed the hand and then briefly lifted his, grasping it for two seconds, and then knocking Rolf’s hand away. “Sounds good to me, animal boy.”
*
It was the kind of slow, sleepy, late autumn day that still led to students congregating outside, despite the chill. The sky overhead was mostly clear, stretches of bright blue interspersed with lazy clouds as they made their slow way across it. The lake stood still, mostly undisturbed by the wind, which had decided not to bite into Hogwarts students today. Despite this, many had donned scarves and hats and Robinet had taken great delight in pulling hats down on people he didn’t like (or people who were annoying him). He was light and quick on his feet, allowing him to duck away from anyone who thought of retaliating, which he did more than once as he walked across the grounds.
Rolf was an outdoor guy. Robin had learnt it quickly and then he’d learnt some of his habits: he couldn’t help himself. Robin collected information as if it was gold, majestic. He gathered it for when he needed it. He’d decided that he needed it as he walked across the grounds, seeking Rolf. “Hello,” he said, when he found him. “I need your help.” He paused and then, relying on knowledge he’d gleaned over the summer said, “Help me, Rolfi-wan Kenobi, you’re my only hope.”
“Rolfi-wan?” Rolf repeated, a bemused smile unfurling across his face. He lifted an eyebrow as he shifted against the trunk of an oak tree. It was Rolf’s favorite tree on the grounds, with broad branches and vivid orange leaves. There was a Divination textbook splayed across his lap, and he dogeared the page he’d been reading before setting it aside. “Is that from something? And what do you need my help with?”
There was a slight pause as his eyes narrowed. “I’m not helping you break into the restricted section of the library, Robinet.”
“Ugh,” Robin said and flung himself onto the ground. “I know you won’t because you’re committed to this being boring thing.” He waved a hand, passing it over Rolf, as if encompassing the whole of him in one gesture. Turning his head, he looked around and regretted just throwing himself onto the ground. It was slightly damp under his legs, remnants of the rain from the day before. “It’s okay. I’m slowly going to convince you.”
Robin was so sure of it that it was obvious in the look in his eyes and the expression on his face, a confidence which still settled there as he launched into his actual reason for being there. “My actual idea is that I heard that there might be dragons in the forbidden forest.” He had heard it, but not from an overly reliable source — of course, he wasn’t going to share that with Rolf. Instead, he tilted his head back to look at him and adopted an innocently interested expression.
“Dragons?” The obvious interest in Rolf’s tone was coupled with skepticism, and there was a flash of disbelief in his eyes as he peered down at Robinet. “I haven’t heard anything about dragons in the Forbidden Forest. My granddad’s never mentioned it…” He plucked a leaf from the grass and laid it atop the other boy’s forehead. “Are you making this all up? I’m not that naive, you know.”
“I’m not making it up,” Robin said, pitching his voice at aggrieved. “I did hear someone say they saw it. I thought maybe you’d want to go check it out.” He tilted his head towards the forbidden forest. They could barely see the trees from here, a landscape which had sucked in its ominous reputation and looked more dreadful for it. Still, he gestured towards it. “What if there is something there?”
“Of course I want to check it out.” Rolf absently placed another leaf on Robinet’s forehead as he made a considering noise. “I wouldn’t let you go without me. I’m the dragon expert here.” He was hardly an expert, but he certainly knew more about dragons than Robinet. “Which is to say, we’ll obviously have to investigate. I’m not afraid of the Forbidden Forest.”
Delight lit up Robin’s face, wide eyes bright and an even wider grin spreading instantly. He didn’t even mind that much that Rolf was apparently practising his leaf placing skills on him. “Of course you’re not,” Robin said. “Why would you be? We can go right now immediately. Put your book away.” He reached over to close it anyway, impatience behind the action. “We need your dragon expert brain or whatever.”
“Right now?” Rolf repeated, alarm creeping into his voice. “But we could be spotted. I don’t want to have any points docked from Slytherin.”
Robin let his expression give voice to his disbelief for long moments before he spoke. “Who cares?”
“You don’t care about getting caught?” Rolf shot back, his own disbelief matching Robin’s. “I have big plans for the future, you know. I’m going to be Head Boy.”
A hush descended for a moment and then Robin gripped at his chest. “Merlin. You're going to try to be a goody two shoes. I'm gonna stop speaking to you.”
“You won’t stop speaking to me,” Rolf countered with his most placid smile. “Because then you’ll be stuck talking to Henry Abbott in Herbology.” The slight emphasis on Henry Abbott’s name was a vicious condemnation from Rolf, who rarely insulted any of his peers. Of course, Robin would always have Richenza, but that was neither here nor there.
A dark shadow flickered across Robin’s face. If Rolf rarely insulted his peers, Robin was not anywhere near as nice. Henry Abbott was a bore, who liked the sound of his own voice, and had a tendency to laugh during awkward silences. The more uncomfortable he got, the more he laughed. Robin loved to exploit it, when he wanted to, but he had a feeling he’d grow tired of it fairly quickly.
“I’d find someone else,” Robin said. “I’m not talking to that bore. There’s Rich and some of the other Hufflepuffs aren’t terrible.”
Rolf looked delighted. “I’ve been telling you that for years, Robinet.”
“Shut up, Rolf.” Robin scowled at him and narrowed his eyes. He hated being reminded of Times He Contradicted Himself.
“You love your housemates,” Rolf teased, exhaling a huff of soft laughter. “You want to make black and gold friendship bracelets with them.”
“I'd never make a friendship bracelet with anyone,” Robin said, aggrieved. Then, a thought struck him and he said, “Unless I could curse it and then I would.”
“That isn’t surprising.” Rolf, assuming the notion of running off to the Forbiddden Forest this very moment was behind them, reached for his book again. “You would curse anything.”
“I'll curse you if you ignore me,” Robin said, bright and cheerful, as he reached for Rolf’s book, pushing it just out of his way. “We've got a date with danger.”
Rolf gave Robinet a concern-laden look as he bit his lower lip, worrying it as he considered his options. He didn’t want to miss out on a chance to see a dragon. His fingers dug into the damp grass as he said, “Fine, but you have to follow my lead.”
Robin couldn’t quite help himself from scoffing. “Yeah, sure,” he said, with a huge amount of believability. “I’ll definitely follow your lead.”
*
The third-floor corridor was deathly quiet. The sconces lining the hall bathed the area in flickering yellow light, and, if he angled himself the right way, his new prefect badge gleamed. His rounds — quiet and uneventful as always — were almost over, and his yawn echoed off the stone walls as he strode through the corridor. As he rounded the corner, his thought drifted to his plans for the next day. But his thoughts came to a screeching halt as he found himself face to face with—
“Robinet?” he asked, his surprise bleeding into his voice. He squinted at his friend. “Why are you up?” Beat. “Why are you here?”
“Why are you here is the more pertinent question, don't you think?” Robin shot back, going for the offensive, caught off guard and going for the easiest response. He raised an eyebrow at Rolf, tilting his head as if awaiting an answer.
“Rounds,” Rolf replied, gesturing to the badge pinned to his chest. He sounded somewhat conflicted as he continued, “You’re not supposed to be up. I’ll have to take five points from Hufflepuff.”
A part of Robin’s demeanour changed as he looked at Rolf, but it was only small. He didn't overly care about points: relief was a minor wave. “Oh no!” He said, too theatrically. “I accept and I will hang my head in shame now.”
“You could at least look remorseful,” Rolf grumbled. He suspected Percy Weasley didn’t have a hard time getting students to respect him. “Or grateful, even! I could’ve given you a detention. Then you’d have to spend a night polishing trophies by hand.”
Robin took the direction literally, dropping his head and putting on his best remorseful expression. It was there for a flash and then gone: he couldn’t pretend and didn’t really see the point. Rolf may have been a prefect, but that wasn’t going to change how Robin treated student authority (poorly, as a nuisance or some sort of pest). “You know I love to polish, though,” he said, seriously, “and I’d have been in my element. Is it really a punishment if you enjoy it?”
Rolf folded his arms across his chest. His shoulders shook with restrained laughter as he asked, “Is that a euphemism, Robinet?”
“That’s disgusting,” Robin said, imitating Rolf’s gesture. “I wouldn’t dare. Stop being so gross. I’m disappointed in you, Rolf.”
“I’m used to it,” Rolf replied, shrugging one shoulder. He made a show of looking around, as if he expected someone else to show up, before he inched closer to Robinet. A small little smile twisted his mouth. “So what are you doing up here?”
Robin narrowed his eyes, as if suspicious, but there was a smile curling at the corners of his mouth. “I’m trying to find Mo because I’m going to try and poison him. Just a little poison. Nothing that will really harm. But just like, make him have the runs for a couple hours probably.”
“You’re not serious,” Rolf laughed, reaching out to give Robinet’s shoulder a playful shove. A moment later, though, it dawned on him that Robinet could very well be serious. A line appeared between Rolf’s brows as his head tilted. “Wait, are you serious?”
Robin danced away after the shove, letting his feet carry him backwards. He turned, lightly, and then started to walk down the corridor. A glance over his shoulder showed he expected Rolf to follow him. “Why wouldn’t I be serious? Mo’s been warned. I gave him a fair warning and was practically a Hufflepuff about it.”
Rolf made a thoughtful noise as he fell into lockstep beside Robin. “You warned him? You’re going to be the first suspect — if he’s sharp enough to suspect foul play, anyway.”
“Well,” Robin said, as they passed a suit of armour and rounded a corner, “I told him that he was going to get what was coming to him. You know, and I’m trying to poison him because the last time I went to hit him someone” — here, he gave Rolf a very pointed look — “kept telling me I shouldn’t.”
Robin wasn’t actually looking for Mo to poison him, but poisoning sounded better than he was planning to straight up ignore Rolf and punch him in the face. He looked at Rolf from the corner of his eye, trying to judge if his instincts had been right.
“Well, I was right. You shouldn’t hit anyone,” Rolf said lightly, giving Robin a sidelong look. His gaze lingered briefly before he schooled his expression into something a little sterner. “You shouldn’t poison anyone, either. You’ll get in trouble. How are we supposed to hang out if you spend all your free time in detention?”
Robin scoffed. “Like I’m going to go.” A brief smile appeared on his face, flickering into life and dying out just as quick. “Anyway, we’d hang out because you’d probably pop up in detention to tell me off with big sad puppy dog eyes. And then the hanging out would be lecturing. Isn’t being a prefect exhausting? Don’t you want to pack it in?”
“Not at all.” Rolf frowned, somewhat taken aback. “It would be easier if certain people would take me seriously‐” It was his turn to give Robinet a pointed look. “—But other than that, it’s quite fun. And I do want to be Head Boy, so.”
“You know head boys don’t get no head, boy, right?” Robin said, an eyebrow lifting. “They’re atrocious nerds.”
A swift flush crept into Rolf’s cheeks, though it mercifully wasn’t too visible in the limited lighting. “I don’t really care about that,” Rolf admitted, gaze dropping to the tiled floor. “It’s more important to be… important, I guess.”
Laughing, Robin ducked closer, elbowing Rolf in the ribs, then darting away. “I can’t believe you want to be important in school, Rolf. What a nerd. You are setting yourself up there very well.”
“I want to be important later on too,” Rolf pointed out with a sheepish laugh, “which is why I’m going to spend a lot of time tracking down all the creatures narrow-minded people don’t believe in. But you don’t want to hear about that.” He closed the gap between them and gave Robinet another shove. “You want to hear about, I don’t know, something completely inappropriate.”
“Always,” Robin said, sincerely, eyes widening. He loved hearing stories. His ears practically picked up.
“Well.” Rolf looped an arm around Robinet’s shoulder and pulled him close, whispering in his ear. “I caught Phoebe Higgs and Joseph Hall snogging behind a tapestry earlier.”
Robin started laughing almost immediately, hitting Rolf in the arm. “Shut up,” he said, gleefully, eyes bright. “What did they say? What did you do? Did you get a picture?”
He was almost crowing as he jumped back. “I’m going to rip the piss out of them.”
“Shhh,” Rolf struggled to contain his laughter as he held a finger up to his lips. “You’re going to get us both in trouble.” A beat, then: “Also, they told me they were inspecting each other’s scalps for lice.”
“Wow.” Something like wonder rose up in Robinet, obvious on his face and even apparent in his voice. “That is the worst excuse I’ve ever heard. I’m going to use it. Thanks, Rolf. This is a good moment for me.”
“Always happy to help, Robinet.” Rolf’s smile brightened his entire face, even his eyes. “Come on, you should get back to your common room before someone else spots you.”
Robin sighed and took a few steps forward, as if going to Hufflepuff. Then, he spun, looking at Rolf and said, “Well go on. You can continue your rounds and say that you saw me walking back to my common room.” He had no intention of going back; he didn’t care how clear that was.
Rolf looked conflicted as he stared at Robin. He opened his mouth to say something, then decided against it. “All right, Robinet.” He turned to head down another hallway, one that would lead him downstairs to the Slytherin dungeons. After a few steps though, he turned back around and shot Robin a smile. “Have a good night.”
“Night, Rolf,” Robin said, leaning against the wall. He lifted a hand in a wave, watching Rolf’s back for a second and then springing off the wall. He had plans to carry out.