Evander, the Ravenclaw, was predictably unimpressed by both their suggestions. But Margo was just as much a Ravenclaw and she was impressed, which had Johnny making sure to remember his explanation in case he needed to pull it out again because he doubted he'd come up with anything better.
He followed Evander's correction closely, perking up a little at the other boy's acknowledgement, pleased that he'd seen what Margo so easily grasped.
But actually- yeah, that was what she'd said. He suspected that the main difference between Evander and Margo's ideas of arguing was the amount of shouting that took place. Or the volume of it, really, because he distinctly remembered laughing at important muggles braying at each other on Margo's telly, and despite their official clothes and fancy voices there hadn't been much refined exchanging of views going on, just a bunch of (loud) booing and ganging up on each other.
His eyes darted to the side, meeting Margo's with a firm nod, an unwavering "Yep" followed by more nods along to her explanation until amazement took over and he half-turned, mouth opening slightly at that last sentence, one he didn't need to understand to know was a total slam-dunk.
Johnny resisted the urge to punch the air but honestly, denying her a fist bump after that was basically a crime, so he raised the arm closest to her and tilted it backwards casually, watching Evander as she issued her challenge. And his, apparently.
"Hell yeah we are- are we?" Amazement was replaced with alarm, head swivelling back to his closest friend. He'd spent his summer escaping arguments. He couldn't imagine joining them for fun. Besides, he didn't think he'd be very good at it. With his track record, 'it's not that hard' had never been the reassurance people thought it was. Sure, logic considered his parents and assumed that rowing must be in his blood. But there was a lot that was supposed to be in his blood and wasn't: sportiness, smartness, neatness, confidence. Why should this be any different?
"I mean, are we sure?"