[OPEN] Classroom Blues

[Adrian Connery]

Adrian uttered a small curse against the cold autumn wind that bit at his face and other exposed skin. He walked swiftly across the school grounds; he was late for his class. A teacher late for a class was unheard of, and a head teacher at that.
“S’cuse me,” he muttered as he weaved in and out of the students not yet in class, being careful to keep the papers he balanced in one hand and the coffee in the other in place.

Finally he arrived outside his room.
Inside it was chaos as to be expected.
Adrian checked himself in a nearby window and then entered.
“Alright sixth years that’s enough!” He barked over all the noise, sighing with relief as he dumped all the essays he held onto his frenzied excuse for a desk.
“I have your essays on how to defend yourselves against hags here, ready to hand back. I’m pleased to say most of you did very well, though some of you, not so well,” Adrian raised his eyebrows but then gave a little half-smile, “but as these were practice essays, that doesn’t matter, yet.”

After he had gone through the tedious task of handing back all the scrolls of parchment, Adrian noticed some Hufflepuffs misbehaving in the back.
“You lot!” he boomed suddenly, “continue to horse around in my classroom and you’re out of here.” He glared at them, his expression menacing.
Clearly he meant what he said.
“Ok today I’ll be trying to teach you lot how to defend yourself from advanced curses including the Unforgivables,” he waited to see the students’ reactions to the mention of the Unforgivable Curses but, unlike when he was their age, there were few shudders of fear, few gasps of horror. They were too young to remember them being used.

[August Jensen]

August, as usual, had picked a spot at the front of the class and he was waiting patiently for Professor Connery to arrive. He was getting rather concerned really, it wasn't like the Gryffindor Head to be late and he really hoped something terrible hadn't happened. Plus the class was getting a bit rowdy, he'd had to duck twice already to avoid a couple of ink bombs being levitated across the classroom. August tapped his wand nervously on the surface of the desk, absentmindedly transfiguring small spots of the wooden surface into a shiny silver metal.

He flinched as Connery shouted over the racket and turned to watch his teacher head over to the messy desk at the front of the room. August half rose out of his seat, considering hurrying over to help the professor with the precarious pile of rolled up scrolls in his arms. It turned out Connery had things under control though, as he dumped the pile on to the desk, one or two rolling away across the floor. Over all August had been quite pleased with his essay, it had been a little on the short side because Casey had been distracting him with witch weekly gossip when he was trying to write it, but apart from that he'd understood all the concepts.

He grinned along with Professor Connery, but his smile quickly dropped when he heard what the subject of today's class would be. "But Professor!" He exclaimed, arm shooting up even though he hadn't waited to be called on to start speaking. August's eyes were wide with surprise and more than a little bit of fear. "Those curses are forbidden, surely nobody would use a curse if it's against the law!" He blurted, rather naively believing that nobody would try to break wizarding law on purpose. He wasn't exactly sure what an unforgivable curse entailed either, but he knew that anything that had been banned couldn't be good.

[arturobrigstocke]

Art was tired. Tired, and grumpy, and late for class. Of course, this was generally the natural state of play, but right then it was even worse than usual. He’d got next to no sleep the night before, having had to stay up working on and English essay. He’d had no time to do it before because the embodiment of horseshit that was Professor Smith had set him a stupid amount of Charms homework. It wasn’t as if he even needed charms, not as if it was ever going to make a difference to his life. But he still had to go to the lessons, do the homework, get the grades.

Which was why he was now hurrying down a staircase between the third and second floor, knowing full well he was going to be late for Defence Against the Dark Arts, but hoping like hell that he might be able to get away with it. Professor Connery was known for his punctuality and strict demeanour, and Art really couldn’t afford any more bad reports from him. He’d fallen asleep at 7:30, missed breakfast and first lesson - which really didn’t matter, it was History of Magic, and Professor Binns wouldn’t notice if his entire class died of boredom in the middle of his lesson, which was actually fairly likely.

But DADA did. Not because the lesson was any more important, none of his wizarding subjects were, to Art’s eye, but because there would actually be repercussions if me missed it. He’d long since found out that if he dropped out of Hogwarts, there’d be no place for him in the Brigstocke household, so for now he had to stick it out, at least get a grade in his subjects, even if those grades weren’t good ones. It was only another tow years, he reminded himself. He’d got through five of them, he could do another two.

Panting slightly, Art finally reached the classroom, sliding inside in time to hear Connery telling off the pupils that were already there. Well, at least they might keep the attention off him. “Sorry I’m late sir” He mumbled, and made to go and sit down in his usual seat at the far side of the classroom.

[Adrian Connery]

“Indeed you would be correct Mr. Jensen if I had told you we were doing a lesson on the Unforgivables 20 years ago,” Adrian smiled at August, glad that at least someone was paying attention.
“It was because of the fear and lack of knowledge that these curses caused so much devasta-“ he was cut off as one more student finally entered.
“Ah, glad you could join us mister, uhhh, Brigstocke. Is there a good reason why you’re late?” Adrian said soft, but menacingly.
“If not, I suggest you quickly find your seat and let me get on with the lesson. I’ll speak to you in a bit,” he beckoned Art to his seat as the class began to grow unsettled.

“Now!” he shouted over the growing noise to quell it, “August here does have a point. The Unforgivable curses are forbidden to practice, especially in a school so this lesson will be a theory one.” A collective groan echoed throughout the classroom as Adrian began to hand out information sheets and parchment.
“Oh I know, theory is boring. Once you sixth years get through this unit I have a treat planned for you in the coming weeks. But only if we get through this,” he called out again, “silent work please.”

Out of habit Adrian paced the room, watching the class as they worked and giving people who talked threats of detention. As he walked he came to a stop at the front of Art’s desk and crouched down to the boy’s level.
“Now can you tell me while you were late Arturo?”

[August Jensen]

August nodded, hanging off the Professor's every word as Connery began to explain the difference between the unforgivable curses from before the war and now. He liked it when the teachers explained things, even if the same information could probably be found in the textbook, it just stuck in his head better if somebody said it out loud to him. Which was of course why he couldn't stop the small pout when Professor Connery was cut off by a student entering the class late.

He twisted in his seat to see who it was and shot a friendly grin in Art's direction when he recognised the Ravenclaw. They didn't know each other that well, but he was friends with Cypress, which was enough for August. Art looked quite tired, he had dark circles under his eyes that suggested he couldn't have got more than a couple of hours sleep that night. He snapped his attention back to their teacher as soon as Professor Connery called for order, feeling guilty for losing concentration by Art's entrance.

August accepted the work Connery handed out with a small smile and a 'thank you'. He didn't mind theory work all that much, there was less chance for him to have some kind of accident, and to be honest he was kind of relieved nobody was going to be casting any unforgivable curses in the lesson. They scared him and he didn't even know what they were yet. Dipping his quill in the ink pot open on his desk he neatly wrote the date and title across the top of the parchment and only looked up from his work to glance briefly over his shoulder at the Professor crouching at Art's desk.

[arturobrigstocke]

Art almost snorted when Connery forgot his name. Typical. Teachers here really did care so much about their students. Not that he really cared, he’d be out of there in under two years, and then he’d be free to do the things that actually mattered in the real world, and places where, when the teachers had taught you for nearly your entire school career, they remembered your name.

He was half tempted to answer back, tell the teacher he had a perfectly good reason, but unlike the majority of his fellow students, he actually knew what rhetoric was. But that’d hopefully be the end of it and he could get on with ignoring everything the teacher was saying. He slouched over to his desk, swinging his bag off his shoulder and kicking it under the table before sitting down himself, crossing his arms across the desk and resting his chin on them. Connery was still talking, but he’d turned out. With any luck, he might be able to catch up on some sleep in this lesson.

But true to his word, as soon as the papers were given out - and August Fucking Jensen had stopped asking stupid questions - the incredibly unwelcome shadow of Professor Connery fell over Art’s desk “Hmm?” He said, glancing upwards, his head still resting on his arms. Art wanted to groan when Connery crouched down. Seriously, could the guy be any more patronising? “Overslept, sir” He said, honestly. It was probably the best thing to do - he couldn’t be dealing with making himself a bed of nails, all he wanted was to get the teacher off his back.

[Adrian Connery]

Adrian regarded Art’s answer for a second, seeing that it was quite obvious he was telling the truth. Seriously the boy looked terrible. His face was gaunt and dark from lack of sleep and just his body language looked tired.
“And why is that? It’s not a good idea to be missing out on sleep, especially at your age,” he said, eyebrows raised, “I’d like to speak to you after the lesson and if you need any help taking notes on the curses, don’t hesitate to ask.” There he left Art, mulling over what to say to the exhausted Ravenclaw later on.

“How are you finding the work August?” the professor stopped at the boy’s desk on his way to his own. Adrian liked having August as a student. The Hufflepuff was always willing to learn and was brilliant at theory work, even if his practical side of things was lacking a tad. The question was a stupid one; of course August would be breezing through this work.
“Your essay was very good by the way,” he smiled and then turned to leave. The class was working silently so there was no need for him to be standing any more, he had a pile of 5th year homework to mark any way.

[rose]

Rose wondered, as she made her way somewhat slowly to the classroom, whether there was really any point in going at all. She was disgustingly late, a full fifteen minutes and counting, and the class was only a hour long. She considered, for the briefest of moments, returning to her dorm and taking a nap in the hopes of fending off the exhaustion which had settled into her bones. I've missed enough class recently... she thought glumly, hastening down a flight of stairs and gripping the parchment in her hand tightly. It read, in the school nurse's neat cursive writing:

Dear Professor, please excuse Miss Weasley's lateness. She is returning to classes after several days in the hospital wing with flu. Many thanks.

Although she had begged to be allowed to return to school life, and had been deemed no longer contagious, Rose didn't feel quite recovered. She slipped into the classroom, her face much paler than usual, and approached the teacher's desk without a sound.
"I'm sorry I'm late, sir," she handed him the note and blinked a few times. Everything seemed a bit too bright after the restful dimness of the hospital ward. Hoping not to have attracted much attention by her lateness, she seated herself in the closest vacant chair and pulled a quill and some parchment out of her school bag.

[August Jensen]

August picked up his wand from the desk and muttered a spell under his breath, it was rather nifty he thought and he'd discovered it back in fourth year when flicking through a charms textbook. Running the tip of his wand over a key phrase in the first paragraph had the effect of a yellow line appearing over the text, rather like a muggle highlighter. Smiling at the result, even though he'd seen it a dozen times before, August couldn't help listening to what Professor Connery was saying to Art. He didn't normally make a habit of listening in to what the Professor had obviously hoped would be a semi-private conversation, but he was concerned about the Ravenclaw and why he'd been late. Cypress would want to know.

The Hufflepuff gave a small start of surprise when the Professor spoke to him, almost knocking the inkpot off his desk. He'd been absorbed enough in his worry about Art that he hadn't even noticed Connery come over. "Oh! Umm..." August paused, flushing with guilt, he should have been concentrating on the work not on trying to listen to private conversations. "It's very good, thank you professor!" He squeaked, eyes flicking from the professor and back to the parchment in front of him guiltily. He'd hate for Connery to think he was slacking off in class, Defence Against the Dark Arts was one of his favourite lessons.

Another distraction came in the form of Rose entering the classroom. August offered her a happy smile, pleased to see she was finally out of the hospital wing. She'd been off sick with the flu for a couple of days, in fact she still looked a little pale and tired, and he'd missed her terribly. He hadn't had the chance to catch up with her properly after the summer break yet, but the one time he'd been up to the hospital wing to see her Reese had insisted she wasn't to have any visitors.

[thaniel]

Drifting past the doorway, Thaniel heard the DADA class starting up. He'd enjoyed it when he was alive, even the professor then liked to bring up Thaniel's father's books and expected Thaniel to be an expert on everything in them. His father's books had been dry and dull. Even Thaniel never read them but over-excited professor's who enjoyed reading boring facts and flat narratives just poured over them. They made Thaniel ill.

He decided to find out how effectively he could come in and take a seat behind the students. Perhaps he'd be allowed to listen in. If the professor shuffled him out, he'd just act like he was too good to be there anyway and it was no problem to him to just glide away. Why would he want to watch a group of stumbling stuttering Hufflepuffs and Gryffindors anyway? He had better things to do like... well... he'd think of something in the situation came up. Being alone for a good century had taken away some of Thaniel's most venomous barbs but in time he could get them all back.

There was a chair in the back of the room and Thaniel took a seat in it and tried to look too angry to be spoken to. He kept his glowering eyes on the teacher and ignored the students as best he could.