Staring at the parchment on the desk, full of sloppy near unreadable words filling it whole, Hermione lets go of a mumble. Why in the world did she ever agree to help grade and evaluate the classwork of first years? No words could be explained to express just how awful these reports were.
The assignment had been explain why being a witch or a wizard can benefit the muggle world. How flying will be cool, because I can appear anywhere randomly among dozens of others did not serve as good enough reasons.
The few that did have legitimate reasons for the question the spelling was so horridness that points had to be docked. Quill marks of slashes covered the newest parchments, added notes above for fixed spellings. Though she knew it was in vain, the student wouid seeing the failing grade, toss the report aside and not bother to learn from their mistakes. She wondered when they would learn or least become wise of auto-matic spelling quills, she hoped for her sake and their teachers soon