You know? I honestly love my life. I read and write great stories, I play great games, and I'm getting more hours recently which means more money. And I'm more than glad to share this happiness with all of you, if on a bit of a stunted rate what with having to finish off Platinuming Neo: World Ends With You. I'm nothing if not realistic.

Chapter 8: The Simple Things

OR

Children Respond Best When You Get Down To Their Level

Whenever I had a new batch of children experiencing my class, I made a point of sharing with them my unique memory method I used to remember them by.

Namely, mocking the shit out of them.

"Ahhh, Mr. Potter. Long have I awaited the day that-where is your pot?" I interrupted my spiel as I spotted the Boy-Who-Sure-Kept-Surviving while the boy in question, who was bracing himself for an experience probably similar to a significantly greasier Professors, was left more than a little off-balance by my sudden departure.

"My, my...what? Sir?" The Boy hastily added on the respect, but we both kind of forgot about those long ago.

"Your pot, child. Your namesake. Hell, I'm not even seeing a single vase, urn, or flask anywhere on your person at all! What do?" I swept my arms in his direction palms flat and up, ready and waiting for an answer.

"I. I don't, understand? Why would I-what?"

I huffed.

"Well, you're certainly no Radical Cliff or something abstract, so it's fairly easy. You'll find that people generally get shoehorned into specialties or preferences relating to their name, especially in Wizard families, often due to the fact that we're unoriginal sons'a bitches at the best of time, and were thus named off of what each particular family is good at. The trend also extends to mixed kids as well, but can be a little lax with those interpretations." I shrugged as I thrust my hand out to a bushy haired student off to the side, getting right into their first lesson.

"Take your friends. Ms. Granger is obviously training to become a Great Ranger, practicing for the day when she can carry any number of plot convenient or essential items on her person by way of those books, possibly even a fabled Dues Ex Machina. The red head is supposed to have some form of weasel or marmot on his person, but he gets close enough with the rat in his pants. Also something about how their family is super good at making living spaces wherever you stick them and getting into places they shouldn't be, but mostly the first thing." By this point I was just ignoring the children who were either getting embarrassed or trying to interject what I was saying, but I just continued on, pointing to some as I spoke and counting off my fingers about those who weren't. I was on a role after all, and those who were loudest were always the most correct.

"Malfoy's never go to church, The Potter's made great pottery that also happened to be able to seal some serious shit away, Bones bury their dead in their walls and basement and enchant the living shit out of them to protect the still alive members of the bloodline, Longbottom's are amazing at transformative growth magics, Greengrass, shockingly, encourage more plants, Clearwater is slightly better at making drinkable water, and the Smith's were bakers, obviously. These are just a few of the clearer examples."

With a shake of my head, I slumped on my desk, utterly exhausted from working for nearly twenty minutes straight of probably-true bullshit.

"Alright people, you're homework for tonight is to write an essay about what you feel your deepest fear is and how you would best shove its theoretical teeth down its stupid throat. Bonus points might also be given if you bring along pictures, models, or the script for a small-scale play based on your writing. Now I'm going to quietly pass out on this desk now, and I expect you all to vacate my classroom at any point within the next five minutes to four days, depends on when I wake up. I won't tell you when the work is due either. Consider it your first test in Divination! Goodnight!"

With that, I dropped my head face down, and activated the Somulous Charm on the top of my desk, gently sending me to dreamland.

"ZZzzzzzzzz~"

END OF CHAPTER

Man, this is all just nonsense, but it's entertaining nonsense at least. On the bright side, next chapter we get a student's view, and then Glory Day's, so you all have that to look forward to. As for my next stories...I'm debating which to do next, but I have a few ideas ready and waiting to pop out, so that's fun. On an unrelated note, I AM NOW SULTAN OF SLAM, and am about 83% finished NWEWY, which means I'll probably settle it nicely before I start Psychonauts 2. Man, I love transitions between amazing stuff.

Now I hope you all have fun with this, leave some other weird ass idiosyncrasies about the Wizarding world you would like poked at, or just anything you want. One thing I love about doing this story is that it gets so much love so quickly.

For example; I can't imagine Wizarding Ice Cream is made with normal milk. I imagine it would come from giant cows that for some reason drool acid, cause Wizards. Why? I'm not really sure, it just seems like normal cows are too easy and safe for how generally masochistic Wizards tend to be with their government, games, and most every form of relationship with Non-Wizards