Chapter Text
Of all of Kenny’s new roommates up in Gryffindor Tower, he would definitely say that he had the most in common with his fellow muggleborn Dennis Creevey. Even then, the problem was that Dennis was a sweetheart who came from an honest, hardworking family that lived on a farm. Kenny’s family was more of the white trash, redneck, lived-in-the-mountains type of folks. In other words, they were nothing alike.
Now, this didn’t necessarily mean that Kenny had any problems with his roommates. They were all nice enough —even the socially inept Charles Urquhart managed to get that across— but all the magic in the world couldn’t mask how normal they all were (and trust him, there was a lot of it). So, maybe that was the heart of it. Kenny had problems with his roommates because no one had problems with him. He would actually have preferred staying in a room with his asshole friends. And wasn’t that totally fucked up.
Plus, there was the issue of sharing his room for the next seven years. Not that Kenny had ever caught sight of the so-called lap of luxury, but even living with two other siblings and their two deadbeat drunks for parents hadn’t stopped him from being able to have his own room. Busted up and shitty as it was, at least it was his .
Alyn belched out a high note from the bathroom next door, the shower a backdrop to his singing as Kenny winced, no longer dozing off and fully awake. Dennis let out a sudden bark of laughter when Alyn’s voice cracked in the middle of a whole note, and Charles dropped one of his fancy rich-boy shoes, making it clatter as it hit the floor.
That was another thing. Gryffindors were so loud. Granted, South Park wasn’t quiet either, especially when his parents or his friends were involved. However, there was a certain beauty to the silent stillness of the city from the rooftops at night. If there were places like that here at Hogwarts, then he hadn’t found it yet.
(This wasn’t even beginning to get into the entire Wizarding World’s completely manic obsession with anything and everything Harry Potter. Dude’s fourteen and looked like a strong gust of wind might blow him over, and Kenny just didn’t understand the appeal. Wizards seriously had a problem.)
So, needless to say, Kenny McCormick was not having the best of times at his new school.
“We have to find a way to trick that Age Line!”
He couldn’t decide which was worse, though, dealing with overly friendly Gryffindors or going along with one of Eric Cartman’s money schemes, much as he preferred his long-time friends. This time, Eric wanted to tackle hacking the Triwizard Tournament.
Eric stroked his newly instated beard (courtesy of the aforementioned Age Line). Why he hadn’t gotten it cut off yet, Kenny didn’t know. He was nursing the theory that the fatass actually thought it rather suited him.
Which it didn’t, for the record.
“I already told you, there’s no way to trick the Age Line, you dumb piece of shit. Fucking Dumbledore made it!” And there’s Kyle, just as he’s always been, only now with blue-trimmed robes and wearing the only wizard hat in their group. His red hair peeked out from under it, barely contained.
Eric scoffed. “Yeah, right. Kyle, I know you just want your grubby little Jew hands all over that prize money so you can take it for yourself. And let me tell you,” he leaned in, finger pointing at the Ravenclaw, “I’m on to you, kike.”
“Cartman, you call me a kike one more goddamn time—!”
Stan and Kenny shared a glance between them.
“ Or what, Jew?! ”
Stan pinched the bridge of his nose. Kenny sighed.
Kyle lunged forward, hands reaching for Eric’s throat, clearly out for blood as Kenny went to restrain him. He pulled at his friend’s arms, making Kyle shout, “Kenny, don’t try to stop me!”
Stan went to put himself between the two, saying, “Guys, can we please not do this today? This literally always happens, can you guys just fucking cut it out for once?”
Kyle tore his arms out of Kenny’s hold, stomping away angrily. As expected, despite his annoyance, Stan rolled his eyes and went to follow him. Meanwhile, Eric put one of his thick arms around Kenny’s shoulders with a sneer on his face. They started to walk back to the castle. “Think Stan’s gonna go lick the sand out of Kyle’s vagina?”
Kenny channeled his inner Stan and rolled his eyes. “Oh yeah, definitely,” he said flatly.
“Anyways, you’re with me, aren’t you, poor boy? God knows you need the prize money more than anyone else.”
His eye twitched. “Eric, I swear to God, one of these days you’re gonna get your ass kicked so hard, you’ll be feeling it on your deathbed.”
“ Ey! Bitch, if you even tried —!”
“ —but !” Kenny paused, slightly surprised when his best friend-slash-enemy also did so. “I do wanna know what you have in mind. I mean,” he grinned, gesturing at Eric’s face. Weren’t Slytherins supposed to be clever or something? What happened with this one? “I don’t think you’ll actually be able to do it. On the off-chance you do have something in mind, though… I’m in.”
Eric grinned. He stuck out a hand. “Pleasure doing business with you, Kenny.”