Breakfast had been an uneventful and dull occasion. Maxen had risen early in anticipation of a day full of interesting and fun activities. He donned his new top-of-the-line dragonhide shoes that had come with an impervious charm built in - because after Defense it was Herbology and members of the Whitman family were never disheveled or dirty. He was careful to not crease his crisp linen shirt as he sat impatiently at breakfast, scarfing down his kippers and eggs before strutting to the first lesson of the day.

It was a safe assumption that Defense Against the Dark Arts would be a class full of interest and danger - exactly what Maxen needed. The fact that barely any of the students would be fully awake at eight in the morning paired with the mudblood first years usually meant that Thursday mornings were the most opportune times for chaos. This day, however, was a complete and total let down - as Storm had spent the entirety of the lesson going over boring crap they'd been learning all year.

Maxen understood the importance of exams - not only were Whitmans well dressed, they were also smart. Getting anything less than an Exceeds Expectations might as well as have been a Troll - and Maxen was not going to be the failure of the family. That would probably be his smarty sister, Carys. She had the brains and the looks, but she just didn't fit. Maxen, however, was the perfect little angel. Except that he was bored. He didn't need to study and review like his classmates did - growing up in a pureblood household and having natural talent meant that Maxen didn't need to try as hard.

After class, when Maxen was finished carefully returning his items to his bag, he threw the strap over his shoulder, grabbed his wand from atop the desk, and walked dully from the room, his new shoes squeaking on the stone floor as he made his exit. They were only one floor up, but the grounds were vast and most of his classmates were already hurrying along down the grand staircase - all but one of them remembering to skip the fake step about halfway down. Maxen laughed aloud as he saw the poor idiot struggle to pull his leg out of the hole most of the first years had memorized by their third week at the school.

One person, however, remained at the top of the stairs and the jolt of laughter brought renewed energy to Maxen's feelings for the day. Aisling Shay was just so easy to annoy. She wasn't a mudblood or anything, but she was still one of the worst kinds of people in Maxen's informed opinion: she was a Hufflepuff.

Wand still in hand, the little snake took a quick look around before raising his wand and muttering a quiet spell.

A loud 'RIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIP' filled the air as the bottom of Aisling's bag ripped, sending the contents all over the place. Maxen quickly hid his wand within his robes and then laughed and giggled and guffawed as he watched the Hufflepuff's Herbology textbook bounce down the stairs, heading right toward the false

Aisling's morning had gone well. Breakfast had been fantastic, as usual - she'd have to thank the house elves in the kitchen during her free period. At first they'd been surprised a student was in the kitchens to talk to them, not for food, but after nearly three years her visits had become as much part of her routine as classes.

Speaking of classes, Defense was finally over. Usually Aisling liked Defense Against the Dark Arts; it wasn't Herbology or Care of Magical Creatures but it was worlds better than History of Magic. Today, however, was not the typical Defense class - instead of teaching something new, Professor Storm had opted to review material for the upcoming exam. Aisling found this horribly dull, and couldn't seem to stop her mind from wandering. It had been a while since her last visit to the kitchens, maybe she should bring something for the elves?

Lost in thought as she was, Aisling was slow to pack up and leave the classroom, meaning she was the last person to start down the flight of stairs on the way to Herbology. And then she was brought back to earth by a loud ripping noise and the feeling of her bookbag suddenly getting lighter. She looked down at her bag in confusion, taking a moment to process what was happening. She watched her Herbology book tumble down the stairs - and then it hit a step and fell through. Aisling could never remember which one was the false step - her feet knew when to skip a stair but she couldn't hold in her head which one it was - but it would seem her textbook had found it.

Her brow furrowed as she heard laughter - was it funny? No, it was just Maxen Whitman, laughing at the misfortune of others. Unaware of the eyes of their classmates, if any were looking, she frowned at the chortling Slytherin. "You know," she said calmly, "if you're going to stand there and watch, you may as well make yourself useful and help me."

She wasn't mad at him - it wasn't his fault her bag tore, it must have just gotten too heavy - but she did wish he would be a little more polite. If he had the time to laugh, surely he had the time to help her gather her things. Speaking of which - she still had her wand. She pointed it at her bag and murmured, "reparo," then looked back to Whitman.

"My Herbology book fell through the false step. Could you try and fish it out for me?" Without waiting for him to respond, she bent down and began gathering her things from where they'd fallen.