Chapter 20 Ginny's first class
Ginny was instantly uplifted after her talk with the headmistress. It turned out that her lessons would be left up to her; the message she had received about her teaching subjects were full of suggestions for what to teach in her opinion.
Ginny did not say so, but she thought that McGonagall was a bit out dated when it came to what a child should learn.
She had talked in length to Harry, Hermione, and even her brother about what a good first class would be like. What should her first lessons be on? Should they be educational or would a fun first class be what would keep the kids from finding the work tedious.
Ron had the best take on her problem. All these kids will be home schooled in a non magical setting, your classes will be getting their hands on wands two years before they normally would. I think they'll jump at whatever you have to offer.
She was set up in an unused classroom; well aware that if she was allowed to teach, it would not be at Hogwarts.
She was told that this first trial would be with two students instead of the whole classroom affair. She hoped that they were well mannered; it would be no fun to teach a couple of brats who wouldn't listen. It wouldn't help that it was six in the morning on a Saturday.
She breezed into the room, wanting to be set up before they arrived and froze as she saw that the room was already occupied; not by her students, but Anabela Figg and of all people Filtch.
"Sorry," she said taking a step back, "I was here for my…uh class." Something was going on here and she had the sinking feeling that she was about to receive some bad news.
Mrs. Figg slowly stood and raised her hand. "Professor Weasely? I have a note from the headmistress for you." She pulled out the note with her hand still in the air.
Ginny took the note and motioned for her to lower her hand as she read the letter.
Professor Weasely, it occurred to me that you may have been under the impression that you would be teaching children the use of this new wand. It is the belief of the ministry and myself that these wands could benefit witches and wizards with unique needs, giving them the peace of mind many have longed for most of their lives. My apologies for any misleading on my part. Best of luck professor. Headmistress Minerva McGonagall.
Oh boy. Clearly she was referring to squibs without the rude terminology. That means that she was going to be teaching, not only adults, but people thrice her age. Oh boy indeed. The only good news was the use of professor. "Right then", Ginny had to keep her head and play the cards as their delt. "Mr. Filtch, Mrs. Figg, kindly step up here to the supply crates and select a reed and we will get started on making your first wand."
An hour earlier a grumbling Harry was shivering in the cold corridor walking Hermione and an equally grumpy Crookshanks down to Hagrid's home to get the cat's putrid smelling ear checked.
"Always good to see ya Harry, Hermione, but always was meant for awake hours; I haven't even had the kettle on yet."
Hermione held up her cat, so upset that she couldn't tell him what they were there for. "His ear smells like his brain is rotting out of his head" Harry managed before a violent yawn struck him. "Ron, evidently, was too hard to wake." Hermione heard the accusation in the comment and chose to ignore it.
Hagrid took this like it was a normal part of his day, a yawn was yanked out of him and he pointed an accusing finger at Harry. "Only thing that makes that happen is a cat fight. Little tom prolly had a scrap with another fella and got a scratch on his ear. That or his brain is rotting."
Hagrid rummaged in a cupboard and threw a few things hap hazardly into a big tea mug and stuck a butter knife in it, wiping a glob of it on the cat's ear before he could shy away. "By the time you get em up to the common room his ear'll be all better. You can let him wash it off; it won't hurt him none."
Hermione gave him a fierce one arm hug that nearly squashed her cat. "You're the best Hagrid." Completely out of character for her, she had burst into tears.
"Yeah, thanks a bunch Hagrid, we will try to stop in next week." By this time Harry was ready to get back in bed and marched Hermione away with him. A shouted: After breakfast followed them up.
They made it half way down the hall before Filtch stepped out from a side corridor and froze at the sight of them, or at least the sight of Hermione's cat. "You! You're the cause of Misses Norris's… delicate condition!"
Hermione pulled her cat away from Filtches accusing finger making Crookshanks yowl. Before Filtch could explain the situation, an orange kitten popped his head out of the old man's pocket; a loop of leather string hanging down his face.
The kitten went wide eyed at the sight of Crookshanks and freed himself from the pocket so he could make a giant leap onto Hermione's shoulder. Quick as… well, a cat the kitten clawed his way over a wincing Hermione to touch noses with a disinterested Crookshanks.
Squirming to get away from the kitten, Hermione dropped Crookshanks so he could flee the scene. "Are you,…um, quite sure this is Croockshankses…,ah, doings?"
Both Filtch and Harry gave her a flat look; what with his orange fur and squashed face, not to mention the bottle brush tail, what other cat could have been responsible?
Filtch shook the string in his pocket, drawing the kitten's attention and getting him to jump back to his moldy lapels. He looked from the kitten and back at Crookshanks to see if they resembled enough for a conviction.
"Well, much to do this morning, we'll catch up later." The last Hermione said over her shoulder as she fled the scene much as her cat had moments before. Harry gave a shrug and followed on her heels. That wasn't his cat, this wasn't his kitten, and he should be in his bed.