Chappie 10.
Later the next day, Professor Krehope sat in his chair, enjoying the time he had before the boisterous class came.
He had already knew that Ron, Seamus, and Dean had shared all that they saw through the mirrors, his seating chart had a Betraying Babbler spell on it, and right now petite little blue sparks were hovering next to those names.
Professor Krehope was not surprised though, he had expected that much to happen, but one thing did catch his attention. Though Ron had a star, Hermione did not. Why didn't he tell her? They are friends, and in the same house, it just didn't add up.
Oh, I am a scalawag, he thought deviously, actually liking the bad-guy feeling. It wasn't often he felt it, being a professor and his geek from his past life, and he leaned back in the chair, even rocking it hazardously onto two legs. Dangerous, I know.
BANG! The door burst open and Professor Krehope fell backwards from the chair as the students trooped in, all taking a luxurious moment or two to gape at him before scrambling to their seats.
Harry, Ron, and Hermione had already sat down in their corner near the door, carrying on their conversation.
Beatrice entered the room, her manila folder resting on top of her pile of books. So far today, two people had said hi to her during breakfast. Although, she wasn't sure that one counted, considering that she had to walk through the Fat Friar to make him acknowledge her. The other was Luna, one of her only friends, though they didn't get to talk much considering most of the classes were set up Slytherin-Gryffindor and Ravenclaw-Hufflepuff. Sigh, how tedious life can be.
On the other hand, the book she was reading was a novel written by a very persuasive and descriptive author, and she was getting towards the climax already, despite the fact she had started it last night.
She debated for a moment if she should sit next to her partner, saw the look on his face as he spotted her, and decided the back corner looked exceptionally welcoming today.
Harry caught sight of the girl again, Beatrice, and remembered yesterday, especially the way she tried to out-do him. For some reason, she only glanced at him then proceeded to the opposite corner, as if he wasn't good enough to sit by. Harry shook his head, clearing all the menacing thoughts, and turned back to the entertaining banter between Ron and Hermione.
"Ron, that's just stupid."
"No, it's not! Having a quill that changes colors can help me think better."
"How does that work? 'Pretty colors inspire better-quality thoughts'?"
"Does it matter how? It just does!"
Harry smiled, how did they find battles as meaningless as this to fight over?
Professor Krehope, after getting up and rubbing his sore parts, went to the front of the room. "Good morning, class."
"Good morning, Professor," they responded, a bit happier than the day before.
He smiled, "Good, unfortunately, I have some sad tidings for two of you." He spotted Dean and Seamus exchanging a look.
"Seamus Finnigan and Dean Thomas, please come here, grab your stuff."
Dean and Seamus got up, taking up their books, completely silent and serious. Too bad it was too late.
"Please leave the notebooks and the mirror here. You will be returning to Divination."
Dean and Seamus gaped as they numbly set the supplies on his desk and headed back out the door. The rest of the class in the meantime was whispering fervently about the mean, nasty Krehope, who had just been a favorite a minute ago.
Professor Krehope took the front again, "Now, let me assure you, I only did what I did because they failed when I tested their honesty, if you remember that it was one of the things I will test you on. Now, pull out your mirrors and notebooks and continue where you left off as I come around to check them."
The immediate shuffling response to his words pleased him, then worried him. He didn't want to be some alien, cruel teacher, he wanted to have fun this year. Maybe that will be on tomorrow's agenda.
As he walked around, he glanced at the work they had done, and was satisfied with the majority of it. He could tell that this assignment really made some think, that or they just made up some bologna to write down.
He was even more delighted to see only one or three things written down for the mirror project. He knew that they had witnessed more than what they wrote, and he also knew that they must be bursting to tell or write it down. You can't watch someone's life and think, 'Well, that was boring.' It's someone's life for Pete's sake!
"Ron," Professor Krehope asked at the end of the period once everyone had left, "Do you know why I am asking you to stay?"
Ron nodded, his ears darkening, "Because I told Harry, Professor."
Professor Krehope nodded, "Yes, that's it. Now, since you didn't act dumb, or that you didn't know, and nothing even happened on her side of the mirror at the time, I will let this one go. But please, I hope you take this more seriously." He also had let Ron stay because of what he had said on the first day of class, but he kept that to himself.
"Yes, Professor," Ron replied, his eyes absorbed on the floor. Looking up to see Professor Krehope waving his hand for Ron to leave, he did, and at a rapid pace.
Beatrice's mirror had revealed less about Derek today during class than she had hoped for. In fact, he had left the mirror in his room while he went to school. However, Beatrice could study his bedroom, depicting out paintings and drawings he had done, each astounding as the next. Maybe tonight, she hoped, more will happen.
Ron, however, had witnessed quite a bit today in the classroom. The mirror had never left the shadowy contents of her bag, but he overheard what had happened after practice, and that was enough.
Someone her age, a girl, had been talking, "Anna Maria, where are you going to go?"
A bitter tone, most likely Anna Maria, answered, "I don't care. Anywhere but here."
"I don't know if we should be doing this…" the first girl trailed off.
"Are you kidding? I can't stand it here! Everyone at school takes one look at me and judges me for what I am, Latino. I need to get out before I get stuck here with a job and won't be able to leave."
Ron had leaned his face in more, unable to comprehend it all. She was running away?
"But so soon after graduation?" the first girl asked again.
"It's perfect. I'll have my diploma, maybe I can go to college once I save up enough if plan A doesn't work."
"Where are you going to live?" Ron held his breath on this question, hoping to hear the answer.
"Well, my Uncle Jorge lives in Utah, maybe I can get there."
"From Wyoming to Utah is about two-hundred miles, what are you going to do, hitchhike?"
"Whatever it takes. I just can't…live here anymore, alright?" Anna Maria's voice was rising slightly, reminding Ron of a certain someone. (cough, Harry, nudge, hint)
"Alright, but what are you going to tell your mama?" Her voice was earnest.
"I left a note for her and Papi, saying that I can't stand it anymore, I need to get away, do what I love, all that stuff."
"How are you planning to become a comedian when you have no, you know, professional experience?"
Anna Maria laughed, but it had been empty and hollow sounding, "Easy, I'll get some."
And with that, the scene had blacked out, (though it was already quite dark). Ron's time was out, and it was making him anxious to see more that night. A run-away comedian/soccer player?
Just a note: Utah is a state in the U.S. Super thanks to everyone who's been reading!