Hi guys - just going to update the students at Hogwarts in a moment - also, when you're picking what wands you want your characters to have - read this site: Your wand says a lot about your character...
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(Bold names are new)
Year 4:
Anouke Nasser - Gryffindor - Dame Rivere
Year 5:
Erica Crow - Slytherin - Chaser - Shinju the Juubi
Natalie MacDonald - Gryffindor - Chaser - Myself
Year 6:
Aiden Shanks - Gryffindor - Quidditch Captain - Seeker - Myself
James Monastery - Gryffindor - Myself
Rinée Watson - Gryffindor - Chaser - Syao Blossoms
Leanne Bell - Gryffindor - Chaser - Myself
Daniel 'DP' Fulbright - Gryffindor - Boris Yeltsin
Rose Bailey - Ravenclaw - Quidditch Captain - Chaser - Myself
Kat Turner-Dennison - Slytherin - Chaser - Myself
Diedrich Vreyair - Slytherin - Seeker - Syao Blossoms
Hunter Jackson - Slytherin - Quidditch Captain - Keeper - TheIceCreamNinja
Chapter Nine: The Russian and The Ravenclaw
The Gryffindor victory had definitely cheered up the entirety of the house, and the 'Shanks Fanclub' was starting to form again: girls following me to my classes when they're in the year below, girls sitting near me in the Great Hall but not eating a thing - generally girls hanging around me when I've never even talked to them.
Ever since the Quidditch Match, Rinée had not talked to me - I had seen her around with Kat and the Slytherin Quidditch Captain, but she hadn't said a word to me. Frankly, I was too preoccupied thinking about the whole 'Anti-Dementor' lessons I'd asked for from Professor Potter; it had been one week since I'd asked him and he hadn't given me an answer yet - I'd talked to him again about it, but he seemed reluctant to give me an answer.
I woke up on the Friday morning and made my way to Potions. It was mid-November now, meaning it was only going to get colder. I pulled on a sweater and made my way down to the dungeons with my books. Down there there was a majority of Ravenclaws and Slytherins with only three Gryffindors in the class - Rinée, an American pudgy guy called Daniel and myself.
Our Potions teacher was a fairly short teacher compared to the boys in our class, with dark black hair combed backwards from his chalk-white angular face. When Professor Sergetov spoke, it was with a gruff Russian accent, and his emerald, snake-like eyes would often narrow, painting a suspicious picture; if he were to wear something other than his bottle-green robes, I might not suspect that he is a disguised snake (in more ways than one).
"Inside." He muttered, letting us all file into the potions classroom - a room that was actually an old cell, just cluttered with desks and cauldrons. He swept in his robes to the front of the class, where he wrote the page number of our books on the blackboard.
I placed my books down away from Rinée and began to open my book to the set pages. I looked back up at the chalkboard, where Sergetov wrote down The Draught of Living Death.
"My name, for those of you blithering idiots who may have forgotten it," his eyes flickered towards me, "is Professor Sergetov." I watched the Slytherin Quidditch Captain, Hunter, walk in later.
"Sorry I'm late sir-"
"No. Talking." Sergetov said lowly, eyes burning at the latecomer, who took the only free seat - next to me. I rolled my eyes. "As I was saying... those of you who barely achieved an EE on your Potions OWL are lucky to be here. If it wasn't for Professor Almseeds, you would be using this time for studying, as you clearly need it." His eyes flickered towards Rinée, who took no notice of him. "So, after today's lesson, anyone who does not brew a successful draught will find themselves questioning whether or not they deserve to be in this class." The entire class gulped, not me though. I wouldn't let him see weakness from me - Sergetov and myself had a long-standing antagonism towards one another - I didn't like his comments towards me and vice versa. True, I had achieved an O on nearly half of my OWLs, but I knew that the leap from OWL to NEWT was a large one. Therefore I wasted no time in starting to brew my potion.
I read the instructions - infusion of Wormwood was first. I added the powdered root of asphodel, stirred clockwise, added sloth brain, then looked back at the instructions - adding the Sopophorous bean's juice was the only thing left.
I looked to my left and saw Hunter attempting to cut the bean, only to have it soar away as his blade made contact with the shell. I sniggered to myself, crushing the blade on the side of the bean before squeezing the bean into the cauldron's water.
"What are you laughing at?" Hunter asked me eventually.
"Oh, nothing." I smirked to myself. "Just... well... you."
"You think you're funny?" He asked in an Northern Irish accent. I shrugged.
"Well... I'm no Hufflepuff, but I have my moments." I saw a Hufflepuff look up at me from the otherside of the room, looking slightly offended. "No offense." I said to her.
"So what? You win one game and then think you're cool?" I shrugged.
"I guess. I mean... we did win didn't we?" He laughed in response.
"Your head is so far up your own ar-"
"Shanks!" Sergetov called from the front of the class. "If you would kindly stop distracting Mr. Jackson, he's having enough trouble as it is." Hunter muttered darkly to himself about Sergetov.
"What a dick." Hunter said lowly.
"You're not the only one who thinks so." I mumbled back to Hunter.
"The same goes for you Vreyair - stop flirting with Watson. I looked over to Rinée and Vreyair, who were sure enough, standing next to each other with Rinée glaring daggers at a sniggering Vreyair. I shook my head as I finished stirring my potion - it was a smooth and thick lilac concoction, swaying like there was a current. I glanced over at Hunter's potion - bubbling, yellow and becoming a hardening substance. I grinned to myself at Sergetov came around the chamber.
"Mr. Jackson, you are by far one of the most incompetent students I have ever had the misfortune to teach." I bit my lip. "Five points from Slytherin." He said, with a couple of Slytherins hissing to Jackson. He came over to my potion, peering into it. "Mr. Shanks." He said, a thin smile appearing on his lips. "What did you put in this?" He asked me sinisterly.
"Bit of this, bit of that." I shrugged.
"A bit of this, a bit of that? Into the Draught of Living Death?" I shrugged. "I don't believe you." He said. "Who brewed this for you?"
"I did." I said obviously. "You would've seen if someone else had brewed it wouldn't you?"
"Wouldn't you sir?" He grumbled lowly.
"What can I say? I'm naturally talented." I smiled at him.
"It would appear so." He said, frustrated as he dropped the leaf into the potion, watching it burn and disintegrate. "If I find out that you did not follow the proper instructions to the letter," Sergetov enunciated with each syllable as he leant close to me, eyes twinkling dimly, "you will find yourself in a very uncomfortable position." He leant back from me, then left the class, with us all standing there, looking after him.
"Did you mean for that to sound perverted?" I called after him, but there was no response or thundering footsteps - much to my surprise.
"Is it just me, or does he get worse every year?" Hunter thought aloud.
"I think it's a bit of both." I replied, looking towards the door with him. I looked back to him, shrugged, and picked up my books, leaving the potions chamber.
When I made my way to Transfiguration, I saw Rinée seat herself next to Vreyair again, away from me - was this to annoy me? She seemed to be actively avoiding my gaze. I shook my head and slumped into my seat behind my desk.
"Excuse me?" I looked up at the accent. "Is anyone sitting here?" I shook my head at the Ravenclaw girl. "Thanks." She smiled, putting her bag on the floor and sitting beside me for a few awkward seconds. "I'm Rose-Rosie - I prefer Rosie."
"Okay Rosie." I said with a smile. "I'm Shanks."
"Well, yeah - I know that." She beamed. "I saw you in the summer."
"You did?"
"Yeah - not in like a stalker way though." She said quickly. "I was at the World Cup - supporting Ireland since... well, Wales didn't really get through." I coughed uncomfortably. "I'm sorry - I talk too much - just tell me when to stop. My friends always tell me I talk too much - my name should be Blabber instead of Bailey because I'm blabbing - I'll stop now." She closed her eyes and turned a deep shade of red. I felt like getting up and walking away - everytime I met someone, they'd bring up the World Cup... it was like a compulsion, but she seemed to exert this friendliness - something I hadn't witnessed from many students here. I smiled to myself at the sight of her - she seemed cute when flustered.
"So where in Wales are you from?" I asked, she looked at me, astonished I was still talking to her.
"Cardiff." She replied eventually.
"It's nice there."
"Yeah... it is." She said, a small smile etching its way across her curved lips. "When have you been?"
"When I was a kid I tried my dad's broom and just... ended up in Wales you know?" She giggled.
"You weren't a natural?"
"God, no." I muttered, grinning at the memory. "My dad was so pissed with me when he found me."
"How did he find you?"
"Well, the Ministry got a few reports of a flying boy in Bristol." She grinned.
"Do you miss him?" She asked me. I shrugged.
"Well, he's my dad you know?" I thought for a moment. "Was... I mean he was." She frowned.
"Well, he seemed nice."
"I guess so." I muttered. "He was usually away - had to work a lot around the world you know?" She nodded.
"Tell me about it - my dad's always away looking for some new creature."
"Eh?"
"He writes about creatures." I nodded. "Thinks he's going to be the next Scamander."
"You never know." I pondered. "Never hurts to have a dream I guess."
"Mr. Shanks, Ms. Bailey?" We looked up at the Professor. "Were you discussing Transfiguration?" Rosie and I remained quiet and put on interested faces, appeasing our Professor.
"Ready for your match?" I asked Rosie.
"Against Hufflepuff?" She asked. "Ask me on the day."
We saw everyone else pull out their wands and so decided to mimic them. Utterly clueless on what to do, we sat there, conversing casually. Eventually she gestured for me to examine her wand. Exchanging mine for hers, we played the guessing game.
"I want to say... 11 inches?" I narrowed my eyes, unsure. She nodded.
"12 inches?" She asked. I shook my head.
"11 1/2," I corrected her, "Erm...I don't know... Birch?"
"Reed." She corrected me. "Is it-"
"Hold on - a Reed wand?"
"Yeah?"
"I swear those are like... really useless?" Her mouth hung open in offense. "I mean, I tried using one when I was eleven and-"
"They're intelligent and wise." She said defensively.
"Alright fine..." I said rolling my eyes. "Your go." She narrowed her eyes at me then brought my wand closer to her eyes.
"Is it Ivy?"
"Partly." I said, looking at the leaf-like carvings that spiralled around her wand - it was different to the natural, unpolished dark wood of my own. "I mean, Ivy's hard to find, so it's mainly Ebony."
"Isn't that a Dark Wizard's thing?"
"No." I said, slightly offended. "That's just common assumption-" I realised what she was doing. "Okay, sorry for the whole 'usless' thing." I muttered, rolling my eyes.
"Apology accepted." She chirped with a smile. "Your go."
"Erm..." I examined the tip of the wand. "Unicorn hair?" She shook her head.
"Veela."
"Really?" She nodded.
"Got it from my cousin's wife." I examined the hair fondly. "And yours is Pheonix feather of course?" I nodded. "I'm not too fond of yours actually." She said, holding it lightly and giving it an uncomfortable look.
"Hey, speak for yourself." I said, taking my wand back, and giving her hers. It felt warm right in my hand - like it slotted into the contours of my skin. I didn't like the smooth, polished feel of Rosie's - it was too... neat. "I prefer mine anyway." I muttered, looking at it fondly.
"Mr. Shanks, Ms. Bailey?" We looked at the professor again.
"Sorry Professor." We both muttered, chuckling lowly.
Hope you guys enjoyed it - thought I should show more lessons since the students are... well, students. Anyway, leave a review - always on the look-out for more sixth-years that play Quidditch remember!