Chapter 2: An Interview with Mad-Eye-Moody

40 2 0
                                    

Samantha left her second Gazette meeting of the week. She and the team had their stories finished and it had been sent to McGonagall for approval. If everything went correctly it would be available to students, staff and parents in the morning. 

Everyone had been in a tizzy, excited for the Tournament to be held at the school. Cedric had been in exceptionally high spirits considering he would turn seventeen within the month and could put forth his name. Genevieve had also thrown out her attitude saying it was better she wasn't Editor-In-Chief because then she could focus on the tournament if she were chosen for it.

Samantha was grateful not to be old enough to even attempt applying for the tournament. She herself was already exhausted and it was only the first day. She'd had classes all day, thankfully no homework, but plenty to begin worrying about. 

The day had started with Herbology with the Hufflepuffs, a class Samantha enjoyed but had never found a talent for. Most plants died in her care, withering away before even growing to be useful. 

She stood with her Hufflepuff friend, Ernie and the two had been rather disgusted when squeezing the Bubotubers. Samantha's had barely squeezed any puss out and Professor Sprout worried it would become stuffed up and die. She eventually gave it one big push and puss erupted everywhere. She was excused from class to clean herself up, at least it was known as an acne cure, so Samantha figured it was just a good preventative measure.

Samantha, unlike a lot of her fellow Gryffindors had chosen not to take Care of Magical creatures. She knew if she was horrible at caring for plants, she'd be no better with animals. She handled her owl, Whisp just fine and it was as far as she'd need to go in that subject. Instead she took Ancient Runes, something McGonagall said would be necessary for her work as a journalist. There could be old codes in need of translation someday. Samantha found the subject absolutely fascinating.

Instead of taking a lunch Samantha chose to bypass it and instead head to the library to start researching her interview for tomorrow. 

Samantha liked to interview the newest teachers early into the semester. The year before her first ever interview had been with Professor Lupin. He had been incredibly fun and friendly in his interview. This year she was very interested in the frightening new Defense Against The Dark Arts Teacher, Alastor Moody, a dark wizard catcher.

Her last class of the day was Muggle Studies, something she found terribly dull. Her father was a muggle and she had spent plenty of time in the muggle world. However, she expected it would be a necessary OWL next year for her career so she considered it an easy pass.

After the late afternoon meeting with the Gazette members had run slightly over after an argument with Genevieve about assignments for the next Gazette, Samantha was starving. She was sure she looked a right mess. Ink was staining her fingers, there was still a bit of Bubotuber puss in her pig tails, and her mind was still spinning from translations. She just wanted to have some dinner and head back to the common room to clean up and get some rest.

"Looks like you've had quite the day Sammy." Her brother taunted as he approached her on the way to the great hall.

She didn't truly want a conversation with her brother. He was a popular Slytherin with many friends, decent grades and he was a talented on a broomstick. His downfall was his mouth. He was known to be opinionated, often getting detention for arguing theory with the teachers. 

His favorite person to argue with was his sister. She felt that she could simply say, 'up' and his immediate reaction would be 'down.' This would be  followed by an impressive theorem as to why he said, 'down'.

She decided she was too tired for arguments as she greeted her brother.

"Hey Jack." She mumbled looking him over. He seemed much more put together than she. Robes on perfectly, mousy brown hair spiked up, not an ink stain in sight. "You must have had a better one I presume."

IncendioWhere stories live. Discover now