I LIIIIIIIIVE! Sorry, it's been so long. I updated and then I had a butt load of things to do and then school started and then I got lazy and didn't want to type it and then marching season started and then I had to do sound for Still Life with Iris (which really is an awesome show) and then I typed it and then I sent it to my new beta reader and then I got side tracked and then tech/hell week started and then I had another butt load of things to do and then I had to finish proofing this and then my band director said 'since I don't have anything for you guys to do right now you can have the day off' and then I went outside and taught TOAFAQ all I knew about rifles (the ones you spin, not the ones you shoot people with) and then I went to the library and then I got on a computer and then I checked of some pictures of our state competition on the net and then I finished proofing this and then I posted it and now you're reading it.

Wow, how spastic was that? So anyway, sorry and I'll let classes begin like mine did three months ago. Oh, and I don't know where the whole review response thing is going. First off their really long because I'm windy and second, I hear no one is allowed to anymore. I might get one of those blog things that my friends keep trying to make me do and do that like Purplehairedwonder. That sounds like a good idea. Anyway, no responses (know that I love you all, though). Just story. Enjoy.

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" 'Alternative Herbology,' which one teaches that?" Ron asked Hermione as they made their way to said class.

"Minamino, the red-head, but he fell ill last night. Rotten luck."

"Who ever heard of a classroom Herbology lesson?" Harry complained.

"I think he's still sick," Hermione told him, "we probably won't even have a real lesson today."

"Whatever," Ron replied. "So long as he doesn't have a dragon dung fetish, I'm happy."

They walked into the classroom, and weren't surprised to find most of the class there and no teacher.

The friends took their seats in the three consecutive desks that seemed to have been reserved for them and waited. After a few minutes, just when chatter began to pick up, the door opened.

"Silence, now." The all too familiar voice slithered into the room. None other than Professor Snape followed.

Silence was immediately bestowed. The professor passed out a stack of papers. original

"Your teacher," the word dripped with disdain, "would like you to complete these. No talking. Begin." Snape sat down at the desk and quills began scratching. Harry looked down at the paper.

Please explain what you know about the following species. Consider the properties, where they are found and the maturation cycles to start with.

1. Devil's Snare

2. Spitfire

3. Mandrake

4. Deadly Vetch

/Deadly Vetch/ The list went on. Harry thought he could write books on some, while he'd never even heard of others; Spitfire, for example, but he could guess on that one. What he was upset about was that this brand new teacher was giving them a pop quiz on the first day of school, and wasn't even there to hear their protests and tell them off about their complaints.

After ten minutes of nervous groans, nail chewing, and foot tapping from the students, Snape brightened as if he had just remembered something--though Harry doubted that he had ever forgotten.

"Oh, yes," Everyone wondered how this could get worse, and began to loathe this new teacher almost as much as they loathed Snape. "He specifically told me to assure you, 'No Pressure.'" He scoffed at the remark and settled smugly back into his chair.

/No pressure. Yeah right./ Harry thought as he continued to fabricate horrible and gruesome properties for the 'Deadly Vetch.'

Several minutes later, the door opened again. "Thank you very much, professor."

"Not at all, professor." Snape left.

The new professor set down his bag on the desk and turned to meet them, his long, red hair trailing his movement.

"Good morning class." His emerald green eyes sparkled as he beamed his friendliest, most inviting smile at them.

A few polite grumbles responded.

He crossed his arms and leaned back on the desk. "Why is it so quiet?" he asked, perplexed.

"Snape said not to talk."

"It's a pop quiz."

"What they said."

His smile turned to a disappointed frown. "Pop-quiz? Who told you that?"

There was silence. No one had actually said it was a 'pop-quiz.'

"I didn't say you couldn't talk. I wanted you to. I want to see what the class knows."

"But Snape…"

"Forget it. I'll talk to him. You were supposed to have 20 minutes to put what you know and 10 to converse. We'll do that now. You have ten minutes to confirm your answers with your classmates. This is not for a grade. If you don't know it, don't write anything. Do not make things up," he glanced at some papers, "I don't expect you to know some of these. He did tell you that this is 'No Pressure,' right?"

There were a few grumbles of consent as the students turned to each other to confer.

"Of course! No one Snape hates so openly could be that bad," Ron pointed out.

"Hey, we're supposed to be comparing answers," Hermione snapped. The boys rolled their eyes.

"Time," Minamino called when appropriate. "Names. Quills down." When his order had been obeyed, he raised a long silver rod about a foot in length and at most a pencil's width. Either works.

"Where did that come from?" Harry whispered to his companions.

"I don't know," Hermione hissed back. "He didn't have it a second ago."

"Cómet Papiéren," the teacher commanded with a light swish and jab of the rod. The silver gleamed with intricate engravings as it moved. All at once, the papers darted toward him. The class watched in awe as the papers filed themselves into his vertically extended right hand. He used his index finger to keep the papers from over shooting, snapped his hand shut over the completed stack, and immediately began to leaf through them with his unoccupied left hand to make sure they were all there.

"Where'd it go?" Harry asked Hermione. The silver tool, apparently a wand, had disappeared.

"I don't know, but he's left handed."

"Ambidextrous." She looked up to find the red-head looking at her seriously.

"What?"

"Ambidextrous: I can use both hands equally well."

"I know what it means, but how…"

"Good hearing. But I believe Hiei truly is left handed."

"Where did it go?"

"Where did what go?"

"The wand."

"Oh, elsewhence."

"Right. How?"

Kurama winked. "Magic."

He set the papers down on his desk. "Well, I'll keep the intro short. We've a lot to do and much less time then we'd need to do it. I apologize for this morning's incident. The way news travels in a school, I'm sure you all have heard that I was not feeling well last night, so I didn't have the time I wanted to set up."

/Set up/ The thought floated through the class. "Anyway, I am Professor Shuichi Minamino." He waved to the class with his right hand. Despite the speed and force with which the papers had flown at him, there was not a single paper cut. Hermione noted this and marveled.

"I must warn you that the plants you will be working with in this class are moderately to extremely dangerous." Neville gulped. "However, as long as you listen to and follow my instructions carefully, we shouldn't have any problems. Should we encounter any, I do know how to handle these plants and the ones responsible will be dealt with accordingly. I think that about covers it. I will look through those papers tonight and see what I need to teach you. Now, I thought I would start out with a little demo, so if you'll follow me, we can begin." He picked up his bag and left the room. Shrugging, fifteen students followed suit.

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Alright, so that's that. Hope you had fun. I just had to torture them a bit. For more than one reason too. I also had to have a reason for Kurama and Snape to hate eachother or I have a feeling that they would become best friends and that would displace Hiei and Kuronue. So yeah, don't worry about it. I'll make up for torturing the little beasts. I already have, you just have to wait for it.

Oh, and please check out my one-shot, 'Karma Courtesy of Kate.' Although it says it's Death Note you really don't have to know the story. I wrote it so my English teacher would get it, so please just tell me what you think. Personally I thought it was kind of humorous in a dark evil sort of way. Anyway, see ya later. Until then… TTFN: Ta-Ta For Now! (I'm so spastic today)

Liebe sie von Doomschneider