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Post by Curse Kameren on Nov 14, 2010 1:11:55 GMT -5
"But this is going to be boring..." Max Kameren followed grudgingly behind his father, arms crossed as he kept a cranky distance from him. "Do you know how old that suit of armor was? How long its been at Hogwarts? How much history was in it?" Max didn't reply to his father, only tense silence. "Exactly. You're not leaving my sight. Maybe you can learn a bit about potions today..." Curse unlocked and opened the Potions Dungeon, letting his belligerent son in before him. "Sit," Curse pointed at a desk in the front corner of the room. Max went over and sat, glaring at his father the whole time. The Potions professor plopped his papers onto the chair of his desk, turning to the blackboard and tracing his finger across the board, glowing letters moving with his finger: He took a seat on top of his desk, cross-legged and facing towards his son. "You're going to have to keep quiet you know." Max didn't look up at his father, just glared down at the desk in front of him. "For the whole class." "...shut up." Max grumbled under his breath. Curse chuckled, looking forward as students started to file into the classroom.
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Post by Sienna Andormeran on Nov 14, 2010 8:21:44 GMT -5
Sienna went inside the room with the other students, her head barely clearing the other's shoulders. There were other 1st years here, but there were also 2nd, 3rd and 4th years. A mixed class? Hmmm, interesting. she thought.
She wasn't exactly looking forward to the class though. Sienna took a dim view of anything involving books and schoolwork, and only really went to Hogwarts because Michael told her it'd be better there than in Beauxbatons, with all the prissy young ladies having tea and cakes. That didn't appeal very much to Sienna either, so she'd take this over Beauxbatons or private tutors.
Still... potions. Sienna took a seat close to the back, even though she was so small she could hardly see anything. That was good, in case she needed to make a quick escape or sleep. By the gods, the class was early.
Wait, was that a little boy in front? Sienna had seen him someplace, wandering around... he wasn't one of those unfortunate enough to get to her traps yet. Who was he?
Sienna sighed, shaking her head. She really really hated classes.
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Post by //Numbers Barr-- on Nov 14, 2010 13:13:20 GMT -5
Numbers thanked whatever had been watching over him as he made his way through the dungeon. On his first attempt, he had been able to track down the room. Now, it wasn’t too difficult because besides the Slytherin Common room, only the Potions dungeon was down there. It had also helped that Numbers had been able to swallow his pride and ask directions from a helpful Prefect that had only just been leaving the lower levels. He had kindly directed the small boy to the Potions dungeon and went on his merry way. Though, the real miracle was that Numbers had been able to retain the directions to the dungeon only long enough to reach the big door.
The young Hufflepuff shot a glance to his watch to see if he was still on time but muttered a curse when he noticed that he had forgotten it. It probably sat on his dresser, forgotten as he rushed to his next class. Now, he could be walking into class just to receive a beating for being late. “Here goes nothing.” The boy muttered with a sigh as he pushed through the door.
To his relief, no one had started talking. Students were still trying to find their seats and the professor, at least who Numbers thought was the professor, was still seated on top of his desk. He seemed like a decent enough man, except for the scar running across his face. He was tough, judging by the mark. Numbers wasn’t sure if he should be intimidated or impressed. Though, the fear lessened when the Hufflepuff spotted the young boy sitting near the teacher. He obviously under the age of a usual student so Numbers suspected he must be related to the teacher. That and they looked alike.
“Okay, stop staring.” Numbers told himself, shaking his head and finding a seat. It was nearer to the back, most of the front seats had already been taken. The boy glanced around, pulling at the neck of his yellow sweater, at the other students. Some were first years, which was a relief, he was in the right class. Yet, some of the other students were twice his size or more. Well, that wasn’t hard to achieve but it still meant that he was among the youngest. All of a sudden, Numbers wished he hadn’t signed up for this class.
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