Everyone's Sick at Hogwarts
Part of the Story "at Hogwarts" series
-in which characters, problems and motives are introduced and dealt with...or Not
(somewhat connected to Crimson--done by kira who is almost done writing it)
DISCLAIMER Man here to save the day!
the spankn' world of Harry Potter is in no way own by me or a strange looking goat...or is it?...no
There was still more controversy where wizard kind believed in God or Gods. Many say yes, while others state no. Whether the answer be yes or no, it was a proven fact, that some one, or some thing had it out for James.
The moment she had been given the envelope concerning her new job, James had metaphorically died a little inside.
As she burst through the doors of Charms, a dark brooding cloud had followed her. She had practically thrown her books down onto her desk and it had several minutes of complete silence before she had gone into action.
The silence, like always, had been broken by Hermione, who had in her shrill domineering voice had asked James whether or not they would be starting today.
James at eagerly responded by lighting Hermione's hair on fire. It seems that James was still up set about not getting the D.A. job.
She almost cried with relief when McGonagall burst through the doors halfway through the class. The class had been "learning" how to lift and stretch things. Hermione granger had so nicely volunteered, after James had showed the class a neat Ventriloquist charm.
McGonagall had entered the class in a huff about how Snape had over exerted himself, and how they needed a replacement.
"I thought he had cured himself." James asked as she slowly rose from the desk.
'My dear," McGonagall said leaning on the half opened door. "There is quite a difference from doing a spell to protect others from your sickness, and from finding a cure. Professor Snape was ale to only accomplish one of those two things. Well?"
"well what?"
"well do you want the position or not?"
"What about Charms?" she said already gathering her stuff from the desk.
"Any half nut can teach Charms. Potions is a different mater."
"Is that all the positions that are open?"
"It's either that or Divinations."
"Potions you say…"
"Thought so. Come along we haven't all day. There are classes to teach, students to learn."
"But Professor who will teach Charms." Harry whined. (Unfortunately he had not yet succumbed to the viscous wide spreading disease. Not yet anyway).
"Potter must you make things difficult." McGonagall said looking about the room. "You there, Miss ganger. You look particularly up for the challenge. Charms is now yours."
"THANK YOU PROFESSOR! YOU WON'T BE DISAPPOINTED." The still stretching girl yelled.
"Don't worry girl, I'm sure I will be. Come along James, we have work to do."
As the two professors left the overly bright classroom—another reason why James had despised that position—the new teacher could be heard instructing the class on how to stretch a person properly and the history of the practice of levitation. Already there were a few groans from a few of the students. Mainly her two best friends.
After giving McGonagall her suitcase, Jams went though her pockets for a special piece of paper. She had written it after her fist potions lesson and she knew it was the perfect piece to being her new carer as a potions teacher. The speech was a long one, but it would hold the class's attention, it had before. It had something to do with "potions to bewitch the mind and ensnare the senses." Quite nice poetry from a middle-aged ex-potions teacher.