Nov 19, 2013
Y'know what? After the week we've had, we deserve ourselves a drink or five - anyone up for some firewhiskey? A good ol'-fashioned pint, down at the Cauldron? Any takers? Going once, going twice...
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Y'know what? After the week we've had, we deserve ourselves a drink or five - anyone up for some firewhiskey? A good ol'-fashioned pint, down at the Cauldron? Any takers? Going once, going twice...
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Is that...
It's the sun…it's bright…much brighter than parchment...
Never, ever, ever leaving the school agaaiinn.
[Breathing out the soft chant in a sing song voice, more to herself than anyone passing by as she makes her way to the library. Another week - though if she was honest she'd been checking the noticeboards in the common room daily for news - and still no hint of an upcoming Hogsmeade weekend. Surely she can't be the only one starting to find the constant confinement to the school grounds claustrophobic.]
Alright!
Which little brat took my jacket?!
NO. She does not want your phone number, your fax number, or the room number of the place you're currently residing! Don't you get it?! She doesn't want you so leave her be! BLOODY MUGGLES!
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The badge makes me their god.
Feel a bit like a swot though, but 'ey, beggars can't be choosers, right? Merlin, I think I can feel the responsibility leaking into me - soon I might even be a model citizen of the student body. Imagine that, 'ey? Minnie might go mad at the thought of one of her finest on the straight and narrow.
But why. The. Bloody. Hell. [Taking slow deliberate breaths between her words as she quickly rereads the files (Surely there must be something she's read incorrectly there. It'd make more sense than any of the other final conclusions she's come to.) only to find that yes; she'd understood the whole thing. By some miracle given the state of handwriting the whole thing's been scrawled out in.] Would anybody decide that making a biting mailbox in Surrey. Dorking of all places. [Looking exasperatedly up at her elevator companion.] Got to go out and supervise the memory modification of some poor blighter of a post man at St. Mungos. Just had to have half his fingers reattached.
[Septima sighed and closed her book. It was only the second day of classes and she already wanted to run home. She had been right to worry about students reactions to her being a TA. Most of them recognized her from when she tutored them and didn't take her seriously enough. She ran a hand through her hair and glanced at the outline for the school year. Finally she stood up and headed out of the classroom, maybe a walk down to Hogsmeade for a drink at the Three Broomsticks would help settle her nerves.
She wandered out of the school in a daze. She briefly thought about writing her parents but knew her mother would just use it as an excuse to try and get her to come home. She shook her head quickly to banish the thoughts. She didn't need to go crying to Mummy and Daddy after only two days. She was perfectly capable of doing her job.]
You're being ridiculous, Septima. Everything's going to be just fine.