"Now, step up to the left side of your broomstick," Flint said, looking at
his first class of the day. "Put your right hand over the broom," The first
years clumsily lumbered up to their brooms, each putting one hand over
their broom. "And say 'up'." Marcus finished, looking at the younger
children. A chorus of voices rang through the air.
Severus sneered from the alcove of the courtyard he was lurking in. Dowsed in shadows and bruises, he looked sketchier than usual. He still had a hangover from the weekend and was glad he had no classes on that particular day.
Damn that Flint, he thought, though he wasn't sure why. Severus was actually looking forward to Hooch's return-- he certainly didn't want the whole of the first years to lose their teeth.
Flint clenched his hands at his sides, watching the first years. All of them finally had their brooms in their hands. "Now, when you've got your broom, I want you to mount it. Hold on tightly to your broomstick. You don't want to be sliding off the end. On my whistle, I want you to kick off of the ground hard, hover for a moment, then touch back down." He said, putting his whistle to his lips. He blew into it, then watched as the first years perfectly hovered in the air. An image of Severus flashed into his mind and he shook his head to clear it. No, he wouldn't think of that man now. He had PROMISED himself not to.
"Admiring the view?" The familiar voice of Sinistra came from behind Snape's back. "Heavens no!" He cried, entirely too fast, his head snapping 'round to face her. "Why on Earth would you accuse me of such an act?" His eyes sharpened and his hands clenched about his cloak, as though he was just barely suppressing the urge to hex here then and there--right on the spot!
"Well, you do seem to admire the boy," Sinistra replied, laughingly. "Or stalk him at least!" Her devilish smirk was enough to nearly drive Severus mad. She brushed a few silky raven strands from her eyes, then studied him for quite some time.
"You should speak," Severus muttered, mentally slapping himself when he realized what it could imply. He and Sinistra were the youngest on the staff--were, since Flint had been recruited--and both single.
"You choose to be single, Severus, and I-I do not." She gave him a slight smile and patted the man on the back before briskly walking off, more than likely to gossip with another professor.
Marcus laughed as one boy fell off his broom, and then realized how childish that seemed. "Are you alright?" He yelled, running over to the boy. The younger kid shook his head. "Class is over. Go study for your other lessons or something while I take Mister Parkingspot to the Hospital Wing." He said, taking the boy, whose name was Marshall Parkingspot, to the Hospital Wing.
"Way to go, Flint," Severus said as the assistant professor passed by. He was now in a morbidly cruel mood, determined to show Sinistra he did not want that-that boy!-at all. He'd show her, indeed.
Marcus dropped Marshall off on a bed in the horridly cold Hospital Wing, giving a small smirk to Madam Pomfrey. He'd always hated that woman for some odd reason. Quickly he hustled out of the room, being assured by Pomfrey that Marshall would be just fine. A few minutes after leaving, he finally arrived at Snape's door. He knocked and walked in, not even waiting for an answer. "Snape." He said, glaring at the elder man.
"Flint," Severus replied in the same manner. He had no idea what the boy was doing at his door and, frankly, he didn't care. "Well?" He rolled his eyes, "What do you want? I haven't all day, boy." He endless eyes sharpened ever so more, his face looking older than ever.
Marcus happily went into a rambling state, where he explained in short sentences how he didn't like being teased. "Now...um...yeah..." He said, his ugly teeth glinting in what little light the room held. "I...guess I should be going." He said, letting go of Snape.
"Yes," Severus said through gritted teeth, "You should." He brushed his cloak off in a disgusted manner. How dare that boy touch me! he thought. He then turned 'round to tell the co-author to check her gosh darned email for a change. Severus shut the door in Marcus' face and retired to his bath. If the tub hadn't been so small, he would've drowned himself in there years ago.
Marcus sighed, walking out of the door. He had just noticed the weird feeling in his stomach. Oh gosh...no... Marcus thought, running a hand through his hair and stalking down to the Slytherin common room. He seated himself in a chair, letting his eyes close. He slowly drifted off into a nice sleep after the co-author checked her mail.
Severus sneered from the alcove of the courtyard he was lurking in. Dowsed in shadows and bruises, he looked sketchier than usual. He still had a hangover from the weekend and was glad he had no classes on that particular day.
Damn that Flint, he thought, though he wasn't sure why. Severus was actually looking forward to Hooch's return-- he certainly didn't want the whole of the first years to lose their teeth.
Flint clenched his hands at his sides, watching the first years. All of them finally had their brooms in their hands. "Now, when you've got your broom, I want you to mount it. Hold on tightly to your broomstick. You don't want to be sliding off the end. On my whistle, I want you to kick off of the ground hard, hover for a moment, then touch back down." He said, putting his whistle to his lips. He blew into it, then watched as the first years perfectly hovered in the air. An image of Severus flashed into his mind and he shook his head to clear it. No, he wouldn't think of that man now. He had PROMISED himself not to.
"Admiring the view?" The familiar voice of Sinistra came from behind Snape's back. "Heavens no!" He cried, entirely too fast, his head snapping 'round to face her. "Why on Earth would you accuse me of such an act?" His eyes sharpened and his hands clenched about his cloak, as though he was just barely suppressing the urge to hex here then and there--right on the spot!
"Well, you do seem to admire the boy," Sinistra replied, laughingly. "Or stalk him at least!" Her devilish smirk was enough to nearly drive Severus mad. She brushed a few silky raven strands from her eyes, then studied him for quite some time.
"You should speak," Severus muttered, mentally slapping himself when he realized what it could imply. He and Sinistra were the youngest on the staff--were, since Flint had been recruited--and both single.
"You choose to be single, Severus, and I-I do not." She gave him a slight smile and patted the man on the back before briskly walking off, more than likely to gossip with another professor.
Marcus laughed as one boy fell off his broom, and then realized how childish that seemed. "Are you alright?" He yelled, running over to the boy. The younger kid shook his head. "Class is over. Go study for your other lessons or something while I take Mister Parkingspot to the Hospital Wing." He said, taking the boy, whose name was Marshall Parkingspot, to the Hospital Wing.
"Way to go, Flint," Severus said as the assistant professor passed by. He was now in a morbidly cruel mood, determined to show Sinistra he did not want that-that boy!-at all. He'd show her, indeed.
Marcus dropped Marshall off on a bed in the horridly cold Hospital Wing, giving a small smirk to Madam Pomfrey. He'd always hated that woman for some odd reason. Quickly he hustled out of the room, being assured by Pomfrey that Marshall would be just fine. A few minutes after leaving, he finally arrived at Snape's door. He knocked and walked in, not even waiting for an answer. "Snape." He said, glaring at the elder man.
"Flint," Severus replied in the same manner. He had no idea what the boy was doing at his door and, frankly, he didn't care. "Well?" He rolled his eyes, "What do you want? I haven't all day, boy." He endless eyes sharpened ever so more, his face looking older than ever.
Marcus happily went into a rambling state, where he explained in short sentences how he didn't like being teased. "Now...um...yeah..." He said, his ugly teeth glinting in what little light the room held. "I...guess I should be going." He said, letting go of Snape.
"Yes," Severus said through gritted teeth, "You should." He brushed his cloak off in a disgusted manner. How dare that boy touch me! he thought. He then turned 'round to tell the co-author to check her gosh darned email for a change. Severus shut the door in Marcus' face and retired to his bath. If the tub hadn't been so small, he would've drowned himself in there years ago.
Marcus sighed, walking out of the door. He had just noticed the weird feeling in his stomach. Oh gosh...no... Marcus thought, running a hand through his hair and stalking down to the Slytherin common room. He seated himself in a chair, letting his eyes close. He slowly drifted off into a nice sleep after the co-author checked her mail.
