Magical Hogwarts

Most of the time Rolf was okay with the fact he'd been homeschooled. He'd lived in America for a time, taken his exams at the Ministry and attended a couple of summer schools, all of which added up to an even cooler experience according to a lot of folks, but today he couldn't help a wistful sigh at what might have been.

The young magizoologist had heard a rumour - from a sensible source, mind you - that there were mooncalves in the area surrounding Hogsmeade. While there had never been confirmed sightings of the shy creatures, he had read about the small herd that had been raised at Hogwarts a couple of years previously and thought there was likely to be a connection. It wasn't widely accepted, but his grandfather Newt had suspected that mooncalves practised a form of migration, returning to the place of their birth if they felt threatened. Rolf liked the idea of proving one of his famous grandfather's theories and had taken a room at the Hog's Head for a couple of days.

It was early evening and he made his way out of the village and took a secluded trail up into the hills, intending to be settled by dusk. Dressed in dark green waterproof slacks and a similar-coloured sweater and with a small backpack containing a bottle of butterbeer, his camera, and a notebook, he had all he needed and even whistled a tune as he walked. The sun was in his eyes and, because he was expecting to be alone, he was entirely oblivious to the fact someone was walking ahead of him on the same path.

@Jet Dylan

Jet, despite the looming graduation and the pressures that accompanied it, still found solace in enjoying time outside and around the magical creatures he'd befriended during his time at Hogwarts. Be it visiting Thestrals at the ground, or a herd of unicorns he knew liked to relax near the edge of forbidden forest further down.

On this particular evening, he had set out from the castle, sneaking out of the castle, bypassing the boundaries of Hogsmeade, armed with some food and treats he had prepared inside the Room of Requirements, for a small herd of mooncalves he had discovered a few months back.

Jet was one of the students who through his years at Hogwarts had found many hidden crevices inside Hogwarts—the Room of Requirement being on them, and the secret path into Hogsmeade being another. The mooncalves had settled in a particular location, and had been rather shy and anxious, when Jet had discovered them—however, his gentle nature had the creature warm up to him quickly, or at least that’s what he thought helped. He took it upon himself to figure out the kind of food these creatures liked and tended to bring some with him everytime he managed to sneak out.

Today’s little entourage consisted of his mischievous niffler named Diglett, who was currently busy playing his his favourite golden earring, sitting on his shoulder, and a pair of bowtruckles named Twig and Fern—a new pair of them, that Jet had discovered and nursed back to health. They clung to Jet's other shoulder, their twiggy fingers occasionally playing with his hair, making the boy giggle.

Jet was lost in thoughts of the upcoming exams and what the future held for him, and barely noticed the tune that seemed to float in the air around him. It was only when Diglett nudged him with an inquisitive chirp, turning his head behind him, that Jet realised there was another presence on the path. However, Jet didn’t really care—sometimes there were villagers up on this path, and Jet was aware there was a house or two hidden further away from everyone else. Therefore, he didn’t pay much attention to the mysterious person, and stopped on the path, once it was the right time. Jumping over a small stone wall, he started making his way down a barely noticeable path and disappearing between the trees—the sun no longer hiding his presence.

He grinned as he made his way towards the small meadow, upon his entrance a series of chirps greeting him as the creatures excitedly crowded him, making him laugh. “Yes, yes, I missed you too,” he cooed, pulling out some of the food and feeding a few of the mooncalves closest to him. He slid down onto the ground, settling himself into his favourite spot, and patted at a few of the creatures—he loved their huge googly eyes. Diglett jumped off his shoulder, and onto a rock behind him, feeling a little crowded, plausibly.

Planning his next article for the Daily Prophet in his head, mentally writing sentences and scratching out phrases that didn't scan properly, Rolf was surprised to see a niffler some distance in front of him. He blinked in surprise, and then as he briefly stepped into the shadow of an overhanging birch tree his eyes focussed on what was in front of him, he realised that there was another person walking the path. A smile spread across his face, but for the moment he didn't say anything.

To tell the truth, Rolf wasn't entirely sure what to say. You've got a niffler on your shoulder was the ridiculously obvious comment that sprung immediately to mind, but he assumed the other person had realised that already. They were fairly large, after all, and not the sort of creature that one tended to unexpectedly find on one's shoulder. Besides, he was still some distance behind - he squinted and raised one hand to shade his eyes and judged a couple of dozen paces, at least - and he would have had to call out rather than speak. He didn't want to frighten the niffler. They were harmless little things, of course, aside from their proclivity for destroying furniture and decor in their quest for shiny things, but...he wondered if this person had had the niffler since it was a pup. That would make sense, given it's familiarity with the witch or wizard ahead...

Then they disappeared. Not literally, of course, at least he didn't think so. They must have turned off the path, just as Rolf had decided to speed up and ask about the niffler. He sped up anyway, jogging along and looking off to the left and right of the path, craning his neck for any sight of the stranger. Aha! There they were, and - if he wasn't very much mistaken, there was something else on the other shoulder. Something that looked like... Rolf scrambled awkwardly over the stone wall and attempted to follow, branches slapping his face and body as he slid down a path that was rather too steep for his liking. At least it hadn't rained recently, or this path would be even more slippery, he thought, giving all his attention to getting safely onto more even ground and briefly forgetting why he was even here.

Then all at once the trees thinned and he realised he was approaching a clearing - no, a meadow, and...oh, Merlin. He hadn't expected this to be so easy... the rumour had been true; and Rolf was delighted he'd brought both his camera and his notebook. He just needed to find a place here he could observe then - and here he remembered how he'd found his way here, because the stranger he'd followed was clearly no stranger to these mooncalves, not from the way they were crowding round and cooing happily in their - his - presence. Rolf cleared his throat and took a couple of paces forward, feeling rather awkward.

"Uh...hello. I'm...that is... my name's Rolf Scamander. I heard there were mooncalves here and... well. I see there are. Did you...uh... raise them?"

By Rolf's standards it was practically a poetic speech.