Patrick turned with brownie crumbs falling down his face onto his white shirt. Well crud, his new shirt was now going to have possible brownie stains on it. He heard a girl say his name, it was the girl who had an oddly familiar American accent in the great hall. He swallowed the bite of brownie he had just finished. Brushing off the crumbs sitting on his hands onto his pants he stuck out his hand, "Yes, I'm Patrick. I didn't catch your name at the feast."

He was about to wait for a response from the girl when he remembered that she had asked him where he was from. Kentucky accents, or even a southern one were a dime a dozen where he grew up, although neither of his parents had an accent. "I'm from Kentucky. But my dad was transferred to a job in London a year ago. What about you?" he wondered.