Short chapters= short update interval.
I want to get this story done(and have fun with it) so I can focus on my major story. This is lighter for me to write and I hope easily Enjoyable.
I really appreciate all the feedback and watchers.
The passenger shifted in his seat again. It was a strange bus filled with strange people, but he didn't mind. The only thing bothering the man was the constant rain.
It is so wet here… so odd…
He'd been in the country three days, but not one of them was sunny. On the one day it didn't rain; gray oppressive clouds loomed thick over the city skylines. Huh. And he'd thought his country was gloomy.
Ivan snuggled deeper into his scarf. It was always so warm and smelled of his farmland. He smiled happily as he thought of all the new people he would be meeting in just a few hours. He was nervous, but it would be fun.
The passenger was oblivious to the looks he was getting from his fellow passengers. The fact that his chair had not moved an inch on the whole journey from London on the Knight Bus was miraculous. Inhuman. How the bloody hell had he not slid at all? The strange man was thinking the same of them and their green faces as the bus banged once more and slid to a stop.
English people have such weak stomachs, da?
He chuckled to himself and stood. He had arrived.
- ﺩ -
V
"And now that introductions are out of the way once again, I hope one of you is useful enough to explain how you would defend yourself against a vampire attack- yes, Mr. Vargas?"
"You surrender, kiss their feet and wave a white flag of defeat!"
The class erupted into laughter that was quickly silenced by a deadly glance from their professor.
"Do you want to have all the life blood in your body to be drained out? Anyone els- Mr. Vargas you have something else to add?"
Slytherin snickered for the second time in that class.
The truth was that day one of his new teaching job hadn't started off well at all for poor Feliciano. In addition to the fiasco at breakfast; he had successfully gotten lost 37 times, been attacked by both Peeves and Mrs. Norris (he'd trod on her tail) and arrived 15 minutes to his first class of the day. Not only had it been severely humiliating, he had barged in halfway through Severus' "Welcome Back" speech to his sixth years.
Pausing, the professor had smiled thinly and, sneeringly, addressed the Italian.
"Ah Mister Vargas, How kind of you to finally join us," The sarcastic stab drew some snickers form the Slytherins, especially Draco and his buddies.
No one expected what came next.
"I'm-a so sorry!" The young teacher wailed and, in a blink, was up at the professor's desk confessing all of his sins and begging that he spare him from the paddle (Filch had already threatened him, mistaking him for a student).
"I'm a good little Italian! I promise I won't ever be-a late just please don't hurt –a meeeeee!"
Snape had blinked and, looking both confused and incredibly irritated, ordered the sniveling little man to get on his feet and take a seat in the corner of the room. This the kid did willingly, brightening up instantly as soon as he was certain that Snape wouldn't whip him or "use the belt" (he'd actually said that as he thanked him for sparing his life).
Now Feliciano was sitting on a stool humming to himself and kicking his heels together with his hand waving in the air to answer Snape's question. He saluted and stuck his hand out triumphantly.
"You run away!"
There was a slight pause before Snape turned back to the class.
"Does anyone, aside from Miss. Granger, know how fast the average vampire can run when on a kill?"
"40.75 kilometers per hour, sir."
"Get out of the classroom, Iris!" The seventh year student stood and skipped out through the dungeon doors. It was a common occurrence and not regarded with any importance.
"But yes, the average speed of a vampire is around fourty kilometers per hour. So, Mister Vargas, do you have the ability to run over twenty kpm?"
His face lit up for a second, but then he shifted and looked at the ground.
"No-"
Snape sneered in triumph.
"But even if I-a can't, if you release garlic powder behind-a you as you-a run, the wind stream should-a blow it straight into their face, thus-a rendering the vampire either disabled or at least-a temporarily distracted and, as you are-a already running away, you can put a lot more-a distance between-a them and yourselves giving you-a an overall better chance of survival!"
Silence, absolute silence.
Snape was gripping the desk and an angry vein could be seen throbbing in his forehead. Finally, he managed to speak.
"That is a good answer, Vargas," each word dripped with venom, "But the question. Was for. The students."
"Ve~?"
Severus slammed his hand down on the desk, upsetting an ink well and causing Feliciano to start freaking out again. So much so that he ran right out of the room wailing.
Snape turned to his students and opened his mouth just as the bell for the end of the period sounded and everyone made for the doors. An angry Snape was not someone even Malfoy wanted to be around.
'~=.=~'
"Y'know who that bloke reminds me of?" Ron said during lunch as he stuffed himself with curry.
"Who?"
"The Feliciano dude."
"Ah."
"Anyway, he's kinda like what you would get if you mixed Wormtail and Dobby together. I mean seriously, the guy's a nut case."
"Very creative though, that whole thing about the garlic powder…"
"Ooh Hermione's got a crush! Whatever happened to Viktor, hm? Forget him already?"
"Shut up Ron! I was.. I was just remarking on his ability to come up with a defense that didn't involve magic is all." She blushed bright red.
"Oh sure."
"Shut up!"
"I think he kinda sound's like Mario." Harry mused, looking up at the head table where the topic of discussion was carefully taking teeny weeny bites of his meal with a funny look on his face.
"Whose Mario?" Ron asked through a mouthful of bread.
"A video game character."
"A what a what a?"
"Nevermind… who's that?"
He'd just noticed a stranger lounging against the wall of the hall near the head table. Harry wasn't the only one looking at him; there were nervous looking Hufflepuffs muttering amongst themselves close to where he stood. The stranger, however, seemed to be half asleep and was unaware of any looks he was getting. For some reason, Filch seemed smug. That didn't bode very well. Not well at all.
He was so nervous, but at the same time: really excited. This would be the first time he was taking a job outside of his own country where he wouldn't be around his brother all the time. Matt just hoped that the people would actually notice him this time.
Dumbledore's office was bright and interesting. The portraits on the walls went back really far; one or two of the headmasters had taken office before Matthew had even been born. Wow.
He fed Fawks a cracker and surveyed his surrounding once more. It was familiar but so different since the last time he'd been here. Let's see, that had been in the early 1700s…
"Boys, sit still and behave yourselves. We want to make a good impression so Alfred; mind your manners."
"But I'm bored! I've been sitting here for hours!"
"Son, it's been five minutes."
"That's hours in dog years!"
"No, no it isn't. Hush now, here he comes."
Matthew had sat quietly this whole time just watching Aflred fidget. Arthur ruffled his son's hair distractedly before standing to bow to the headmaster. Then they started to talk buisness.
"Psst, Mattie!"
"Quoi?"
"What?"
"I said "what?""
"Ohhhh…You're so weird! Let's go on an adventure!"
"But Arthur said-"
"Arthur will be talking for hours. Besides, don't you want to see this place? It's huge!"
He'd hesitantly agreed and they slipped away unnoticed. And then, and then…
Matthew broke off from his thoughts and frowned. He couldn't quite remember how that whole adventure had turned out. So he focused on the present again. From what the gargoyle had told him, Dumbledore was at lunch but would be back soon. Good; he was anxious to get started.
The boy hurriedly stood as he heard steps on the stairs.
Here he comes, I hope he knows who I am…
The door knob rattled and Matt's heart beat faster. What had he gotten himself into?
Then suddenly, with a bang, it fell clean off its hinges. Fawks flapped in alarm and Matt found himself staring into the smiling face of his twin brother.
Oh dear lord, no.
When Dumbledore came two his office, he noticed two things. One; his door was kicked down and two; there was a pair of people arguing inside the room. Or at least, one was weakly hitting the other and the one being hit was fake yawning and throwing insults at him.
"Ahem," The elderly headmaster cleared his throat loudly and chuckled at the two who froze immediately, "I suppose one of you is the cause for my fallen door?"
He pointed his wand at it and the door and hinges moved back into place on their own. The shorter haired man stared at him in shock and the other in awe.
"Woah, Nellie."
"Holly crap. Dude, how did you do that!"
Albus Dumbledore chuckled again and slid his wand up his sleeve. He took his place in his chair and leaned his elbows on his desk. Both of his guests tried to sit in the same chair which led to the shorter haired one just sitting on his (assumedly) brother's lap.
"Al! Get off!"
"Nu-uh. It's your fault for getting the chair!"
"Cut it out he's watching us, hoser!
"Here, allow me to assist." Dumbledore produced a chair from thin air which was taken immediately by "Al."
"So, you were sent by Mr. Kirkland, I assume?"
Nods.
"Both of you?"
"Uh well eh, you see.. I was supposed to be coming but-"
"No way dude! Iggy said I was the one supposed to come!"
"But, eh he pointed at me and said Canada-"
"Wait, whose Canada?"
"ME!"
"Oh! That makes a lot more sense… but why are your people Canadians?"
"That isn't important Al-"
"I think it is. I mean phonetically that just doesn't work. Matt, you're name's totes messed up."
"Well Excuse me mister United States OF America-eh!"
"Anyway," Dumbledore interjected, shutting them up. Both were probably hoping for more magic, "Regardless of who was originally intended to come, you are both here now. I don't see any point in refusing help I can use, so you can both stay on to be TA's. I'd been told a man named Matthew was coming, so… Alfred is it?"
"Yup! Alfred F. Jones!"
"Hm, Alfred, how would you like to assistant teach History of Magic?"