Defense Against The Dark Arts

We Realise How Greedy Dumbledore Is With His Titles

28th February 2022

I am beginning to create some sort of plan for this, so if there is any scene you really want or any character to appear, please say!!
I also got Tumblr last week and so I am going to shamelessly promote myself; I am hesitantsorrrows. (http://hesitantsorrows.tumblr.com)

The next morning, Percy and I stumbled out of bed and quickly went to breakfast, although we did have to ask a portrait of a short, (slightly grumpy), tattooed person as to where to go. Percy was sitting with his head on my shoulder, still half asleep, and prodding a piece of toast. The food was the same sort of unhealthy junk as yesterday, but this time, it didn't have any mints. (It did have boiled sweets though, which isn't much better.) Thankfully, Umbridge didn't turn up for breakfast, and so I got my own chair this time, next to the woman we had spoken to last night, Minerva.

"Settled in okay?" she asks us, and we nod, before being rudely interrupted by a giant swarm of owls, all carrying letters.

"This is the weirdest way I've seen of giving each other messages," I say to Percy. "I mean owls? Surely they create loads of mess?"

He shrugs. "I guess. This means that all magical families have owls, as well - I bet there's some crazy owl breeders that try to make really strong and fast ones."

I laugh, but Minevera seems to take it seriously. "Y'know, when I was younger, I loved owls, because my mum was an owl breeder, and like you said, she made loads of money from it. She met my dad, who was a muggle, when taming one of her owls in a park."

"Wow, that's really...cool. I think owls hate me," Percy says, and then widens his eyes at me in awkwardness.

Percy's point is proven when an owl, a small and scraggly one, lands in front of us, and squawks at him, pecking at his fingers. It's holding a letter, and by the pompous scrawl of the writing, I'm guessing that it's from Dumbledore. How I can tell that it's by him from just by the handwriting is a secret.

I take it from the owl, and chuck it (the owl, not the letter) a piece of toast, which it chomps down gratefully, before flapping off, leaving a feather by my coffee which I tuck behind Percy's ear. (He rolls his eyes, but doesn't protest.)

Nico and Percy, I hope this letter finds you well. I have enclosed the timetable for you, which will be the same every week, unless something drastic happens, and it needs to change.

Albus Dumbledore, (Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf . Warlock, Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of  Wizards)

I pass the note to Percy to read, and then unfold the other piece of paper.

"That's a lot of lessons," Percy mumbles. "And a lot of titles."

There are four different lessons per day, with two double periods (one before lunch and one at the end of the day), with a break after the first single lesson, and the other single lesson after lunch. Unfortunately, we have no free periods, so we have no time to sleep between teaching. Today, we are teaching the 7th year Slytherins, year 3 Hufflepuffs and Gryffindors, year 4 Gryffindors and Slytherins, and lastly, year 5 Gryffindors.

"Well this is going to be fun," Percy sighs after reading the timetable. "Teaching the oldest ones first. They probably won't even listen to us! At least when we are teaching the younger years we can intimidate them."

I roll my eyes. "Intimidating people is easy. Just glare and silently judge them. I think almost all of the campers at both camps are scared of me."

"That's because of your creepy voodoo, and your dad."

"But also because I'm intimidating," I pout, and Percy ruffles my hair and kisses my cheek.

"Sure, you're very scary and ferocious."

"Are you being sarcastic?"

Percy grins. "No? What's sarcasm?"

He unfortunately manages to dodge my punch, but doesn't dodge the toast that I chuck at him, smearing butter on the table, which he quickly moves his plate over, or else someone would notice, and wonder why we didn't clean it up magically. 

When it looks like people are starting to leave, we get up too, thankfully remembering where the classroom is that we will be teaching in. There are two students there already, leaning against the wall, one reading a book, and the other painting their nails with their wand in dark green.

"How the heck are they doing that?," Percy mumbles as we pass them, and I'm not sure if he's talking about the girl reading the book, or the person painting their nails. They look up as we pass, but don't move, so we're assuming they are usually early, and that all the students usually come in at the same time.

Once we're in the classroom, I turn to Percy. "Okay. Do we need a seating plan or something? And do we get a register?"

"Let's give them no seating plan for now. If they decide they don't like us in the first second, we aren't going to teach them anything."

"Does that really matter?" I interrupt, and then apologise to Percy at his unimpressed look.

"We did say we would teach. And the register is on our desk. It must have appeared magically. Like that skeleton that Persephone did not put there," he adds.

"You did say we need to intimidate them," I point out.

"Yes, but with skeletons?"

"When should we let them in?," I ask, changing the subject before Percy makes me remove my decoration.

He looks at the clock on the wall behind the desk. "Now?"

Word count: 914
Song: Wolf in Sheep's Clothing, Set It Off