9:08 A.M.


Decidedly not looking at the hourglass set on a corner of his desk, Rick marked something down on the sheet in front of him. He was neither tense nor anxious—worrying about things that were stupid to worry about—but calm (if not quite relaxed) and ready, if nothing else. Because there was nothing else; his first class, the sixth years, had been okay. No one had acted up (a few had spoken out of turn, but their questions had been legitimate), and though the kids had been listless, they’d been neither antsy nor comatose—which, for a first day of class, wasn’t too bad. So he wasn’t about to stress over that.

But the fifth years… With all the certainty of a hardened veteran, Rick knew the worst still had yet to come. Before the trip, the werewolf had long been apprised of which students to look out for—not all of them, since a few had chosen to spend their summer in other ways, but those who had gone, which had been most of them. And as a frequent target  object of their attention, Rick had very quickly learned to look over his shoulder.

If he hadn’t spent half the trip and the rest of the summer catching himself staring off into space (wondering what the hell was he doing, signing up for even more of this shi- stuff), he still would be. As it was, he had, in fact, come to the calming but weary realization that this was what he wanted to do about some weeks earlier, and so he sat behind a teacher’s desk, dressed in a white button-up dress shirt and a pair of black, fitted slacks… blankly shuffling papers and things as he ignored every arrival after the first few until everyone was seated.

He took his time, acknowledging their presence, until the screeching chairs, idle chatter, and overall fidgeting had died to a more tolerable murmur. And when he did, he forced his gaze to move from face to face without one jot of recognition giving him away.

Or, well. He tried. Despite himself Zamperia, Todd, and Desrosiers received a very flat look, and he forced himself to relax. Here we go–

Slowly rising to his feet, Rick sauntered ‘round to the front of the desk, brushing his tie from where it draped over a shoulder so that it fell back on his chest. “Welcome back,” he began, thumbing through a sheaf of papers before dividing them up into parts and handing them out. “For those of you who don’t know me, I’m Professor Donovan, and no, you can’t call me anything else.” Though a simple ‘professor’ would be fine. “You can, however, hold onto your homework; I’ll collect it at the end of class. For now, I want you to look at the syllabus–” He held up a copy of the sheets he had just handed out. “If you have any questions—ask. Before we get started.”

Winifred was.... nervous. She had worked very hard the previous year to get her spellcasting up to snuff. But now that they had new professors, she was worried they would only see her as a failure with zero clue of her improvement and how far she had come. The Bubinga wand in her robes seemed to be humming with equal worry and anticipation. And Good Godric Professor Donovan was just absolutely gorgeous.

She glanced over the syllabus- immediately intimidated at the amount of homework that would be due. Three foot research papers? Every two weeks? Winnie couldn't imagine that. And essays, too? She had never written so much in her educational career. Why would she, in charms? Shouldn't they waving wands? At least he seemed to reward tutoring. Winifred definitely needed some of that. Especially if she was going to keep up with the demands of the class.

Winifred tentatively raised her hand- she hated asking questions in front of the entire class. She waited to be called upon before talking. No reason in losing class points right away. "The weeks we have research papers due, do we have to turn in an essay, too?" The Hufflepuf asked. The idea of having to write maybe four feet of parchment every other week terrified her. "And for tutoring- can you help us find a tutor if we need one?" Last year she'd had a Ravenclaw tutor for some of her wand classes, but wasn't sure if she would have to find a new one now. She didn't want to bother the seventh years when they had NEWTs to worry about, after all.

Moira read the syllabus as the other students filed in, her head on her hand in almost a bored way. To be entirely honest, she would rather be mucking out the fields than being at school still. However, being at Hogwarts didn't seem quite as unfavorable as it had even a year ago.  After all the mishaps, annoyances, and misunderstandings from last year she was actually a little bit curious as to what this school year would bring.

She still was uncomfortable being shoved in a room of people, Moira just masked it better. After all, she highly doubted the professors would look kindly upon her ducking into a closet to avoid all the people. So instead she just looked bored and maybe a little spacey but she continued to pay attention.

For example, most of the girls kept staring at their new professor. It wasn't the first time they had a teacher replacement so she could only assume it was for 'his looks'. Some of them were attempting to be subtle about it and others... were not. Personally she couldn't see the appeal in such useless fantasies but she wasn't interested in boys the way they were either, not in the foreseeable future anyhow. Animals still held all the charm in the world for her.

When the professor moved to the front of his desk and began to speak Moira shifted her gaze from her syllabus and fellow students to the front. Hearing Winnie's question about the essays and research papers reminded her that homework was still going to suck no matter what.

This had been a very challenging day for Leo thus far. Nearly all of the staff had been replaced over the summer with the exception of very few and Leo was growing rather tired of seeing new faces. Dash it all! He'd almost remembered Professor Josie's name, their former History of Magic teacher. He'd been a good fellow: funny, didn't get annoyed by Leo too much. So when he waltzed (literally!) into the Charms classroom, the Slytherin could not help let out a groan at the sight of yet another new face. He swore under his breath and received a sharp elbow from his keeper friend, Angerona Blackthorne. She gave him a warning look before sweeping away to take a seat. Leo dragged himself to occupy the space next to her and waited until she had laid out everything (quills, parchment, ink, etc.) on her desk in the most meticulous fashion before he brought out a muggle pen. Such an extraordinary invention compared to their silly quills and ink. He ought to be selling them to students...

A syllabus was handed to him and he stared at it through his large glasses. Miss Ollie, a Hufflepuff whom he was not well acquainted with, asked a logical question. That was surprising to him. From her reputation, she was not known to be logical...or very bright, for that matter. Or was that Miss Kincaid he was thinking of from Gryffindor? Girls all looked alike to him, of course. Except Angie. She didn't look like anything. She was as flavorful as a bottle of tap water. He paid close attention to this Professor Malcolm. 'If you have any questions, just ask.' Naturally, Leo started to put up his hand, but he felt Angie grab it and force his arm back down.

"But I have a question," he told her, not bothering to keep his voice down.

"No you don't," Angie whispered, "you just want to ask because he said you could. And I already know what you're going to ask anyway. The answer is 'no'."

He gaped at her, the glasses making his eyes almost four times bigger than they were because they were widened in surprise. How could she possibly know the answer already? Oh, that's right! She'd been taking Divination! She was a Seer. That meant... Oh no! That meant her life would be shortened every time she foretold the future! His question had cost Angerona another ten years of her life!

"Oh, Angie... I'm so sorry..."

She peered at him curiously, but Leo just couldn't bear the guilt anymore. He stared down at his syllabus paper. How could he have been so stupid? Why had she wasted her Seeing ability on him? Leo became rather depressed, his shoulders sagging. Angerona gave him an odd look before redirecting her attention to the new professor. Whatever had happened inside of Leo's head would disappear as the lesson went on. She hoped.

Gloria Gibbon left an ink splot on her scrap of parchment when Professor Donovan said to only call him Professor or Donovan. Poo! The roguish charms teacher needed a nickname. They had two Donovans in staff now and Gloria was already getting confused for who meant who. Sadly, 'Professor Dono' would never see the light of day. Or sounds of conversation, Gloria supposed.

As for her own purview of the syllabus, Gloria was less worried about essay length. Maybe you could skirt by with the excuse of having small feet when you went to pace out your essays? Say, if someone was good with shrinking charms.

The idea of having magically bound feet was sounded worse and worse by the second but Gloria couldn't help herself anymore. That had been her thought pattern ever since buying the suggested extra book on their shopping list: Innovative Blunders: What They Tried, and Why You Shouldn’t by Delores Nitt.

Who could read that title and not want to try one of the blunders they listed in the book? True, even if there were warnings of cabbage turned heads, being kicked upside the head by all your shoes, exploding water buckets (far more deadly than it sounded) or the ever popular mnemonic  of buffaloes on the chest.

Gloria's inner Gryffindor had been afflutter'd of the heart with thoughts of cutting corners on undetectable expansion charms or terminal velocity levitation. It was a wonder the neighbor's cat hadn't turned purple and confunded before Gloria went back to Hogwarts this summer. She wanted to be the next Nitt and compile a book from breathtaking experience.

Isadora shot Winnie a sidelong look of sympathy, normally she'd have reached over to wrap her little finger around the other girl's reassuringly, but it was best not to tempt fate with Donovan at the helm. He was cranky, though no more than he had been on the trip. She did find it a bit odd that after all the time she spent looking at him (and all she had done was look, some of the more brazen students had tried to plot touchy encounters with the prickly man) he still cut a pretty striking figure. She could, in a very distant way, almost understand how it was her mother believed a man in a crisp white dress shirt was more attractive than any of the Firebolt Five running around shirtless. Old people were peculiar.

She could hear the distinct sound of Leo's voice and wrinkled her nose. This would not bode well, Donovan hadn't struck her yet as the sort of person who liked melodrama. She did sort of wish they would get started already, sitting still was not something she was good at and already the heel of her boots was bouncing as her eyes jumped around the seemingly endless syllabus. She knew she fell somewhere in the middle of the pack when it came to Charms. It wasn't her best subject but it also wasn't her worst, and as her mother had reminded her this morning it was important, so she tried to keep her mind in the moment, though she was already thinking ahead to the best use of her free period. It was too early in the year to get distracted, she just felt the itchy need to move.

Ambrose had been both relieved and mildly in fear of the fact Kesali had been replaced by a Donovan, especially the Donovan who had been on the ship for the SEA trip. He'd been alright, and as Professors went, they'd had worse. Much worse. Much much worse.

"You can, however, hold onto your homework; I'll collect it at the end of class. For now, I want you to look at the syllabus. If you have any questions - ask, before we get started." Ambrose's stomach lurched. Where the hell was his homework? Had Kesali even set any?

Ambrose figured he'd find out from someone else, jog his memory, and glanced down at the syllabus, his eyes skipping straight over the additional reading. Winnie took the plunge to ask a question about he essays, and Ambrose read the details again, his own eyes widening.

"And for tutoring - can you help us find a tutor if we need one?

Can we have another year before our OWLs to fit all this in? Ambrose thought to himself, the fact his exams stood between him and the summer was starting to set in for him already. All the Professors were ramping up on this. The OWLs were probably the last thing between him and going out to find a job. he still couldn't picture himself taking NEWTs.

"But I have a question. Eldridge could be heard from nearby, Angerona trying to shut him up.

"Will we be doing practical in every lesson, Sir?" Ambrose asked, tentatively raising his hand in an attempt to be respectful. "Or will it be certain lessons in the week?"

Hattie couldn’t believe her luck. OWL year, and she’d been gifted with the world’s hottest professor. It had to be a good omen (and maybe that was the way to sail through her first Divination assignment). But before anything corny could leave her lips— Charming charms teacher; Stubble-Growing Spells; a formal request for mirrored walls in the Charms classroom— or before she could try out that first name she’d heard Taylor exclaim under her breath when they’d walked in, the man shut down just a few of Hattie’s hopes and dreams.

But not the view.

Plus, she really did love Charms.

She took a syllabus and looked over it quickly, spying a few types of spells she’d been wanting to learn for ages. Her lips pursed in a pleased little smile. Then she looked up to listen to each question in turn, eyes swinging delightedly back to Donovan’s face each time. It never got old.

When those had been answered, a summer-gold arm shot into the air. “Professor? Do you need any volunteers for safety demonstrations?” Hattie sat high, blinking with a perfectly straight face, mouth closed. A look that said she was sincere. “Or any volunteers?” Generally. (To cover her bottom bases.)

As fun and wonderful and exciting as summer had been, she was glad to be back at school. Back in her uniform, wand at the ready, prepared to learn. The school year had already gotten off to a rocky start, with her and Tiberius Bulstrode hexing each other on the train. Her skin was now, wonderfully blemish-free (though the potion that Tulojow had given her did not remove her freckles) and her eyes were not rolled in the back of her heard, leaving her effectively blinded.

But she hoped that Tiberius was still hiccuping up slugs every now and then.

Upon entering the class, she slipped into a seat next to Ambrose Pepper-- and right on time too, Rick was ready to begin class. Being locked up and playing truth or dare with some of the other fifth years had given her a new respect for Ambrose. He was precious and naive in a way she adored. Alvis was as well, and though she did like to tease them and try to whip them into shape with her sharp, sharp words, Juni felt oddly... Not responsible for their well being, but just a little protective. Plus Ambrose had a reputation for being downright pathetic when it came to wandwork, and Charms was by far her best subject.  Still, part of the Ravenclaw felt just a little guilty about sitting next to the weirdly attractive Ambrose. She and Cy were friends and dormmates. That was the part she was choosing to compartmentalize away to deal with for another time.

Juni had worked in Rick's shop after the trip, over the summer. It had been an interesting experience, and although she had insulted quite a few customers, there were also many who had been amused by her snark and attitude. They thought she was joking when she actually had not been, which was probably good. The longer she worked there and actually had to deal with people, the more tactful she had become in dealing with... Customers. Customers, Juni had decided, were a whole other breed of human.

And now he was going to be her professor. Now she had to get used to calling him Professor Donovan. But at least he was handsome. Juni may or may not have taken pictures of him on the trip and sent them to her dear friends who had not been able to go.

Hattie Woolfolk seemed eager to volunteer for safety demonstrations, Juni suppressed a giggle at that.

"You know," She whispered to the Pepper, "His jaw looks even more chiseled than it did on the trip. Watch all us ladies pounce like cats in heat." As if on cue, a tabby in the hallway started yowling tragically in search for a tomcat.  "Like that, but with humans."

As hands rose – tentatively or confidently – Rick felt something in his chest loosen, ease at the lack of immediate, stupid questions. It was telling, that he was already bracing himself for the worst, but maybe he’d been jumping the gun… After a pause, glancing at the syllabus, “No,” he answered Winnie, offering her a slight nod of acknowledgment for his mistake—the closest they would get to an apology on the first day of class (if ever). With a small brush of his hand, the words on the syllabus rearranged themselves, making room for new ones to blot into existence. “It’s one or the other. You get a reprieve.” He shot her a dry, mirthless smile. Research papers trumped essays, though, so maybe not that much of a reprieve.

“As for tutoring…” After a quick scan of the sheet, skimming it for other errors he might have missed, Rick looked up again. “A signup sheet will be posted outside my office, along with a schedule after we have at least one tutor by the end of the week. If there aren’t any… then yes, I’ll help you.” He wasn’t too hung up on the ‘voluntary’ part. “But after that it’s up to you.”

There was a small disruption going on among one of the—Slytherins, he remembered, and a Ravenclaw, and he cut them a glance, eyes narrowing. Luckily it died down soon enough, and another classmate saw fit to speak up. Pushing back his annoyance, Rick cleared his expression, opting for a neutral – calm – one instead. He recognized the kid, if only because of the distinct lack of grief he’d given Rick compared to that of his classmates, and for that alone Rick was prepared to Be Nice. “Almost every lesson,” he replied, perching himself on the edge of the desk. “You’ll have time the following day to practice more, before we move on to discussions about assigned readings and new material.”

By the time he got around to Hattie, he was feeling almost optimistic. This, of course, was short-lived. “Just tutors,” he curtly replied, and moved on, looking for another to speak–

Juni whispered, but Rick’s sensitive werewolf hearing picked it up anyway and he glared. Like Phillip, her employment had come as an unwelcome surprise; unlike Phillip, she wasn’t as easily pushed around. Even worse, her and Lua’s compounded presence had drawn the rest of their little brat pack to the shop—stifling the werewolf with their gumbo soup of hormones and pubescent leers for the rest of the summer. It had been hell. “Zamperia!” he barked, crumpling the syllabus in a fist. The very tips of his ears were, to the keen eye, a brilliant red. “Twenty points from Ravenclaw.”

He stopped—breathed—and counted to ten. At six, he started again, until he had himself under control.

And then he smiled. It was not a pleasant smile.

“Now.” Without looking, Rick crushed the ruined sheet into a smaller, compressed ball with both hands. “If no one else has questions…?”

---

-20 from Ravenclaw

During the round of questions Moira continued to sit there as she was, showing no interest at all in moving or looking 'pretty' and 'impressive'. She liked being comfortable and saw no reason at all to make herself miserable by being otherwise. Granted, the chairs and stools they had to sit on during class weren't shining examples of comfort. A nice grassy hill on a warm summer day sounded far more pleasing.

Hearing her cousin's name, she had only found out about that little fact towards the end of the last school year, snapped from the Professor's mouth plus the loss of twenty points she cast a sideways curious glance. What was it that she had said that made the tips of Donovon's ears so red she wondered. Probably something similar to what Hattie was trying to accomplish with her volunteering. Typical.

With a quiet sigh she faced the front again. Maybe the year wouldn't be all that bad. It was actually a little bit fun watching the small dramas -even if the participants didn't think it small- in the class, so long as she remained apart from them, that was.

Unbelievable. Hardly ten minutes into the class and already Juni had lost twenty points for Ravenclaw. Honestly, it was some sort of feat but Nell was not impressed. This was no way to start off the school year if Ravenclaw had any hopes to win the House Cup. Nell had been near enough to hear the gist of Juni’s whisper and a smirk turned up the corner of her lips shortly before Professor Donovan retaliated with (in Nell’s opinion) a rather harsh punishment. Sure, he had every right to be irritated, but twenty points? It just seemed excessive. What a grumpy man.

Everything in Nell wanted to fight the point deduction, but she knew that it would only make things worse and probably lose Ravenclaw more points no matter how many excellent points she might make (like how Juni’s comment was technically a compliment…sort of). Besides, arguing with a professor was most likely not proper behavior for a prefect.

Nell distracted herself by perusing the syllabus. ‘Extra credit’ and ‘tutoring’ particularly caught her eye; after all, she rather enjoyed charms and anything to get her a better grade in the class was a good idea to her. It was only day two back at Hogwarts and already Nell could foresee that the upcoming year was going to basically kill her under a terrifying amount of homework (not to mention prefect duties and the like).

"You'll have time the following day to practice more, before we move on to discussions about assigned readings and new material." Ambrose gave a polite nod to Professor Donovan for answering the question. At least they would have more time to practice with his help.

Ambrose was glad to have Juni sit down beside him. She was fantastic at charms, and would be the sort to give him a bit of advice or a kind suggestion without screeching at him for making a mistake.
"You know, his jaw looks even more chiseled than it did on the trip." Juni whispered, and Ambrose couldn't help but glance at the Professor, wondering how a jaw could become more chiseled, "Watch all us ladies pounce like cats in heat-" someone's cat yowled with perfect timing "-like that, but with humans."

The Gryffindor prefect had been about to open his mouth to say he hoped Juni didn't also mean Cyhirae, and that he wasn't sure he wanted to see that sort of thing, when Professor Donovan's eyes were upon them.

"Zamperia! Twenty points from Ravenclaw."

Ambrose's jaw fell slack. Twenty points! Merlin! For that! He looked to Juni with shock, not able to form words to her defence.

Somewhere in the back of his head his father's voice bubbled to the surface, recounting back to his third year where he'd gone home for Christmas lamenting the arrival of Professor Storm. Francis Pepper had suggested the old wizard had been erring on the side of harsh to ensure discipline as he was new, and would loosen up in time once he'd established respect. Ambrose had called that optimism two years later. He only hoped Donovan was doing what his father had described - he hadn't seemed that bad on the trip.

"Bloody hell." Ambrose managed to breathe, and swallowed. He felt partially responsible because Juni had been telling him. He would suggest Juni went to Ravenclaw Head of House to Professor Asher to appeal against it, only he wasn't sure either of them would be too comfortable explaining exactly what they'd been discussing.

He definitely preferred the other Professor Donovan already.

This was all so unfair!

Ayla sat near Moira and Isadora, her back straight and her face stone. Charms was her most favourite class and she was actually really brilliant at it. She could easily be one of the best students in the class if she hadn't been so distracted the previous year, not to mention she hadn't been the biggest fan of Kesali as a Professor. This year however, she was a Prefect and she was determined to show her peers just how good she was in the class. She wasn't going to hide behind her recipe book or spend her free time down in the kitchens baking. She was going to be front and center and prove just how skilled she was.

Fate however decided she was going to thrown every obstacle in her, particularity in the form of Professor Donovan. Ayla was not going to comment on the surly Professor's appearance, he was no Isaac Frasier but he certainly had all the other girls aflutter. She wasn't going to give him the satisfaction. She'd only pay as much attention to him as necessary and if that meant she had to be super cold to him, then so be it. She didn't need to make friends with Professors anyways (she just needed not to make enemies)

The syllabus was pretty much what she was expecting for their OWL year although she was slightly nervous about being able to handle all of her homework alongside her Prefect Duties and fit Quidditch in. She wanted to offer her amazing skills for tutoring but was worried she wouldn't be able to fit it into her schedule.

With the point reduction to Ravenclaw her stony expression faltered and she narrowed her brow, more upset with Professor Donovan than Juni. How had he even heard her? Ayla didn't even know what she had said but it was certainly something bad enough to get such a strong reaction out of the man. She hardened her resolve. This was definitely not the class to be making any unnecessary remarks in.

And she had loved Charms so much.

Winifred gave the Slytherin a sidelong glance as he sat there and started babbling and grumbling. Ethridge was so weird. Very bizarre. More reasons that she absolutely hated Slytherin. She twisted in her seat when she heard Juni whisper, and had to cover up a laugh when she mentioned something about women pouncing on Donovan like a cat. He was a super handsome guy... Winnie wondered idly, after Juni's comment, if he had abs like Professor Trishna had. Abs he probably was never supposed to see but when she spent break with Cy it had happened. And then... then she lost twenty point. Twenty points. Yup. Donovan was terrifying.

But at least, Winifred comforted herself, she wouldn't have an essay and a research paper due on the same week. It was a relief. And since he was going to have a sign up sheet for the tutoring, Winnie was satisfied that she'd find someone to help her this year. So long as it wasn't a Slytherin, anyway. Winnie couldn't handle that. But at least he didn't seem to want everyone to fail. Some professors came off that way.

Winnie raised her hand again. "Are you going to dock points if our spells go... awry?" she asked warily. She was better than she was, but Winnie still wasn't a great spellcaster. And she was worried that if she accidentally blew someone up or set a fire or some other thing- which wasn't all that uncommon for her- that she might get into trouble with it. Announcing her inability to do spells was probably not the best thing on the first day- but no doubt her reputation preceded her and it was better to be cautious right of than hope for the best.