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Finn & Tibs
"What's it like!"

"What's what like?"

"Hoggywarts!"

Tiberius McLaggen stared down disdainfully at his little brother, pushing him aside as he opened his closet door to hang up his robes. It was the first winter holidays of his Hogwarts career, and he'd just arrived home. Of course, since his parents weren't wizards like him, he had to take a plane from London to Ireland, so he was feeling a bit mugglish and didn't exactly want to talk.

"What's there to know?" Tibs responded cooly, though inside he was bursting for the opportunity to spill every last detail about the school. He just didn't want Finn thinking that he was stupidly excited over it like he was. "It's school."

"School with magic," Finn exclaimed, bouncing on his knees on the bed. "Did you turn a frog into a hat? Did you make water out of thin air? Did you fly a broomstick?"

"Wizards don't fly broomsticks, Phineas, it's only for witches and any boy who wants to call himself a wizard wouldn't be caught dead on one," Tibs said with a huff, absentmindedly rubbing the back of his head, where he swore he could still feel the bump from when he slammed into the side of the school during his first flying lesson.