Chapter 2 Slughorn

Professor Boonlong hated Slughorn with a fascination. She admired him for being in Hogwarts for so long without being a) hurt by the dark lord b) hurt by the students c) killed by the dark lord and d) killed by the students. The hate part came when she realised he was her dad.

It went like this;

"…"

"…"

And that was it. The last time they conversed was when Slughorn saw Mercedes belly dancing and Professor Boonlong mouthed an apology. Gee, great way to bond with your dad. Though not as important right now. She helped Thomas up – a much more important given that she touched the son of the-boy-who-lived (whose name has expanded to)-and-pushed-he-who-must-not-be-named-off-a-cliff-and-claimed-victory-so-married-Luna-Lovegood. Thus, everyone knew his story. Professor Boonlong mumbled. "You alright, Thomas?"

"Yes, I'm alright Mrs."

Professor Boonlong paused. "Pardon? …"

"Yes, I am alright Mrs."

Professor Boonlong saw Louis slap himself on the forehead. Thomas' stupidity. She pursed her lips. "Are you suggesting something, Thomas!"

Thomas backed a way, a little by little. That sneak! "N-no… Mrs."

"There! You said it again!" She snapped back.

"What! It's not as if I asked you if I could have your money."

Professor Boonlong re-pocketted a fifty dollar note. "Shut! You said Mrs!" She was very touchy on this subject. "So… what makes you think I'm married?" He better not think she was married to Slughorn! Eew… he was her dad! She cringed.

Thomas bit the side of his mouth. Blunt and truthful. Blanching avalanche-style and Professor Boonlong couldn't ski. "I thought you married Professor Quirrel."

Professor Boonlong thwacked Thomas on the head. She made her way behind her table, muttering a hundred and three ways to kill cool Thomas Potter.

Thomas frowned and grasped at his sore spot as he tucked his chair closer to his desk. So did the other kids. Louis, though, was trapped. Professor Boonlong groaned. "Get Louis out."

"But he has to stay there for thirty years."

"Out!"

Lucia slid pass and slowly unwrapped Mummy Louis from his sticky-tape hold. Professor Boonlong wiped a mocking finger across her sad, sad eye. Quill ink lined the bottom rim of her eye. These witches and wizards were really stupid first-years. Instead of hexing him, they actually got her roll of permanent sticky tape and strapped with the sticky tape Louis onto the back wall. Perfect view. Really, lovely. Permanent sticky tape, haha. Well, it was funny. Haha… permanent sticky tape. Hahahaa! That's actually quite smart… it being permanent sticky tape. Oh… shit.

Lucia had ripped off the tape off Louis' ankles when she began to struggle around his torso. She gulped. "U-uh oh… he's stuck!"

By then, Professor Boonlong had announced she had to go to the toilet. So she did. Of course, leaving the class all by themselves. "Cool!" Malvin laughed, wringing his hands and actually forming a shallow puddle on his desk.

"Cool!" Karla snatched the leftover sticky tape she had been eyeing and wrapped it around her and her brother's ankle. Tape was far more adhesive and effective than string.

"Cool!" Neil squealed and pointed and Louis writhing about in his tape cocoon.

Lucia giggled. "Woow… you look really… suggestive doing that."

Immediately aware that Lucia had not understood how what she had just said, and probably picked that word up from the streets of Professor Boonlong, he let that go. But the fact that it still sounded really wrong, he stopped squirming and resulted in comforting himself by twitching. Sometimes it was a burden to be smarter than kids your age.

Lucia giggled, noticing the twitch. Some of the other children had less good things to do. Like Van picked his nose as he watched Mercedes continue her dancing. Eventually, Professor Boonlong returned with a smirk.

"Hello children.'

Heads whipped towards a knife-handling teacher. A total of twenty eyes goggled. Half of them, Hufflepuffs, were either about to cry, finding escape routes or pee. Thomas was doing all three at once because he thought Professor Boonlong was going to kill him. He held up The Monster Book of Monsters and threw it in front of her. She narrowed her eyes. Well, the sacrifice was worth trying. Thomas shivered as Professor Boonlong closed in on him.

Then she walked pass towards Louis he began his exotic 'I'm-a-cocoon' dance again in hope to break free from the psycho advancing towards him. Professor Boonlong sighed then cut the tape to free the boy. She pried the material off his mouth. He blurted:

"Why didn't you use magic?"

Well, Professor Boonlong didn't know why she didn't use magic.

"Because I'm cool." She replied and walked away. Louis hopped and hobbled to his seat, tape still binding him together, fell into seat, which sadly remained next to Lucia. Who giggled. Louis rolled his eyes and opened his book with his free elbow.

"Alright, kiddos. Um… open up page… uuh, what was homework again… thirty-six!"

They did so.

"So… who did their homework?"

No one did so.

Professor Boonlong rubbed her forehead, unaware she was rubbing even more ink onto her face from her fingers. Malvin, Conan and Foil covered their mouths. The teacher continued. "Whatever. Children, do it now. Like. Now." She wanted to bang her head on her table. Everyone began scribbling whatever made sense with How you can tell when you need to go to the toilet according to your horoscope. Louis thought it was utter stupidity because you go to the toilet whenever you need to, but Thomas and Neil fell for it like chauvinistic pigs. They wrote down whenever they went to the toilet and if it was aligned with their representative planets. Apparently, Neil's planet was Pluto which is always the aligned with the so-called 'Neil's other representative' Gastritix so according to page thirty-six Neil should feel like going to the toilet every five minutes.

And that's exactly what he did.

Except there was no point saying when he exactly went every five minutes or no one would appreciate this. I tell, you… no one. Not even Professor Boonlong asked him where he was going ever five minutes. So no point of its mention every paragraph. The weak-bladder boy crookedly stood up. Smiling at Professor Boonlong, he walked out of the classroom. Going to the toilet every five minutes always opened a gateway of opportunity. Because Neil wasn't the son of Hermione Granger for nothing.

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