Harriet Roswell and the School of Witchcraft

Chapter 10

They huddled like lost orphans down the corridor. She stuck with Michael and Diana who were in the same English class as her, around them the rest of the year scurried about.

"Is it this way?"

"I don't think it's near the libraries."

"Isn't it outside?"

It was upstairs, directly above the library. Upstairs was different, lighter fresher. Not only did it smell a lot less like farts, it smelt like fresh mint. Fresh mint grew in pots outside every door, down the hallway that seemed to go on for miles, and it was at a particularly tall mint, the group turned and walked into the classroom.

They sat and waited for ages. Had Harriet not been so tired she would've began to worry she was in the wrong class. The bags beneath Harriet's eyes were drooping and she found herself wishing she had chosen to have tea for lunch, but she was currently functioning almost like a human being so she had decided to pass. The teacher floated into the room, she thought, but he was sitting on a wheel chair, designed to give him height. It almost looked like he was leaning against a desk.

"Good afternoon class I'm Mr Calbot. Nice to meet you all. Lets start with a good introduction, who here likes English? Raise your hand." He raised his eyes, a friendly look, a few raised hands. Harriets own remains down, she's not getting called a teachers pet in the first few seconds - or getting called on to answer questions!

"Oh, well who here likes stories, TV films, and games?" He asked. Harriet and the rest of the class raise their hand except for three people. The teacher gives a firm look to the three.

"So lets try this again, who likes english?" All but three raise their hand.

"I'm glad to hear it! You, what's your name?" He asks pointing to the first boy who hadn't raised his hand.

"Joe."

"Joe what do you do in your spare time?"

"PSP" Joe said, the teacher sighed.

"Are you a little shy?"

"No" Joe said annoyed "I just don't like english."

"What about you? Are you shy?" The teacher asked pointing to another boy. The boy nodded, he had black hair covering his face and badly painted nails.

"Thats okay. What about you, are you shy?" He asked pointing to the last boy.

"No, I'm Jack and I think English lessons are pointless. I'm only here for witch shit" he announced, like he was prepared to fight for his freedom, like what he said was mighty speech and not his own foolery.

"Jack what do you do in your free time?" Mr Calbot asks with a friendly shake of his head to invite conversation.

"I watch youtube videos and music." He said.

The teacher sighed "well it's to be expected. Our administration often makes mistakes and I try to find them as soon as possible. Joe, Jack, I think the administration has made a mistake on your time table. Come on, down here." He said scribbling on to a piece of paper. Joe and Jack looked at him, fear on their faces.

"Are we being expelled?" Joe asked.

"No, I'm teaching a class who will get A grades, and A stars. You're aiming for C's aren't you?" The boys nodded and the teacher shrugged, "wrong class."

Harriet, was sweating as the boys left, Harriet was currently a C student, she had been studying hard in the hope to up her grades up to a B, which her previous teachers had said she could get. Not an A, and defiantly not an A star.

"I see the panic on all of your faces. You're not A students yet. But I'll change that, and if you don't believe your good enough to do that, believe I'm good enough to do that. If you follow my class, if you pay attention, if you ask questions, and complete the homework, I promise each one of you, you will easily be hitting B's, and if you try real hard you can get an A. I won't lie, most of you won't be getting A stars. I try, but I'm not that good, yet. The difference between your old school and me is, I have the time, I have the dedication and I have the pay check. I have only one class in each year, and there are only 3 years that do english." He turns around and picks up a pen, he hits the electronic board with it. A poem appears.

"On each of your desks is a copy of this poem - with basic annotations. Before we can annotate we must read. Would anyone like to read for the class? There's a house point in it for you."