[3:00 pm]

Finally waking up for the day, Demetrius Woolfolk was finally out and about. He had just settled down in his quarters and had class on the upcoming Monday. How EXCITING! Demetri's collared shirt was half-tucked in and his tie was improperly tied. He looked awful, really. Then again, he DID just wake up. He missed breakfast, but he could sneak into the kitchen possibly and get something to eat. Preferably not around those house elves. They like to watch him while he ate, which was completely disturbing. Demetri had no idea how to get into the kitchen, though, and had no clue when the meal times were anymore.

But, Demetri knew that desperate times called for desperate measures and after leaving the Astronomy tower, he had a bag of flaming-hot, chocolate chip cookies. These cookies he was planning on munching on during class. But he was starving, so he ate away at them, swerving out of the portraits' views each time he passed by. He thought maybe he'd go for a jog today around the lake, maybe go swimming in it... Before he realized he was wearing one of his "professional" outfits and no way would go jogging while wearing it. Maybe swim a little, though. Demetri finally settled on a nice walk. He would just take a walk around the grounds, nothing too bad. It was cold and sunny and he liked that.

Once Demetri's feet hit the third floor with a bouncing step, he was walking very fast, at a... Fast speed. Demetri wasn't paying close attention and was about to turn the corner when... He knocked down a suit of armor. It fell with a crash and he stood there, stunned and bruised by the metal. "Bloody bonkers, that was." A boyish grin was now on his face, "Well..." Demetri began again, eating one of the cookies, "I guess I have to pick it up now." But without even moving, Demetri stared down at the armor and continued to munch. "Well, I'm not doing it... You do it." He said to himself, fake anger in her voice. "You're the one who did it." He retorted to himself in a nonchalant tone. All this time, licking crumbs off his fingers.

Adrienna was just on her way downstairs from the Ravemclaw tower, hoping to get a bit of quidditch practice in.  It was a bit nippy out, yes, but she honestly didn’t mind.  Quidditch was fun in any kind of weather. 

The halls were strangely silent as she walked briskly through them until…

"I guess I have to pick it up now.  Well, I'm not doing it... You do it.  You're the one who did it."

Indeed that was rather… strange.  Very strange considering the voices speaking sounded oddly alike.  She turned the corner, where she thought the voices (or voice, whichever) was coming from, only to find Demetrius Woolfolk standing next to an overturned suit of armor.  He looked extremely demented, a cookie in hand and an angry expression on his face.  She couldn’t tell if he was speaking to the empty armor or to himself, and mulling this over briefly, she wasn’t sure which was scarier…

“Er… Professor… Woolfolk?” she said slowly, slightly disturbed.  “Are you, you know… okay?”

Kit was heading down from the library, where she had been doing some well-needed reading for O.W.L's. Sometimes Kit's sister and friends teased her by telling her she should have been in Ravenclaw. To be fair, she did study. A lot. But- it wasn't that she particularly enjoyed the act of studying. Rather, she enjoyed the feeling of bettering herself, of going to class and knowing she was ahead of classmates. Childish, but true. Hmm, she really did have the most unbecoming thoughts for a lady sometimes. Thank goodness for a well-trained and much practiced verbal censor that required a passport, visa and clearance through customs to exit her mouth.

“Er… Professor… Woolfolk? Are you, you know… okay?”

The voice of Kit's classmate drifted into Kit's ears and the Gryffindor hurried aound the corner to find Professor Woolfolk looking a perfect fright, with armor bits strewn around him.

For one horribly, completely irrational moment, Kit thought the man must have been mugged, what with the state of his attire and the armor an obvious sign of a struggle. And then she remembered that this was Hogwarts, not exactly a place where Professors stood a risk of being jumped. Passport of stupid comment denied.

And were those biscuits-crumbs on his fingers? Was he-licking them? Kit felt her nose twitch. Ew. Repulsive. Ew.

Kit quickely retracted her earlier thought as to the reason of his disheveled appearance. He was licking biscuit crumbs. That coupled with past history...yes, she was betting if anything, he had actually come out of- whatever happened- looking better than he started. Surely he couldn't get worse.

Still, he was in a position of authority, so Kit needed to treat him with respect (much like she was forced to do with the pink-haired prefect. Sometimes she feared the school was really run by Puffskeins on firewhiskey).

"Professor?" Kit asked. She gave her classmate a nod, acknowledging the other girl's presence; niceties would unfortunately be put on hold until Kit could figure out what exactly happened (although now she was guessing that maybe the Professor was just a klutz. Because of course clumsiness and frumpiness were to traits that went hand in hand).

"Sir? Are you...well?"

Kit Branwell, a Gryffindor in Adrienna’s year came around the corner then, and Adrienna observed her as her grey eyes filled with something related to horror, though Adrienna was unsure why this was the case.  If anything, Adrienna would have assumed anyone that walked up on this little incident would be rather confused and slightly concerned, as she was herself.  But then, not everyone was like her, and she was not like everyone.  To each her own.

"Professor? Sir? Are you...well?" she said, nodding once at Adrienna who nodded and sent a worried glance in the professor’s direction.

Yes, now that Adrienna looked at the scene, she supposed she would be a bit terrified if she interrupted such a moment.  The suit of armor, which had been intact probably only seconds before (depending on how long Professor Woolfolk had been carrying on his bout of schizophrenia), was now strewn haphazardly about the corridor, and the professor himself was enjoying the final morsels of the cookie Adrienna had caught him snacking on.  His face was rather serene – too calm for such a situation – as he stared curiously at the metal bits at his feet.

“Er… Professor… Woolfolk? Are you, you know… okay?”

Demetri turned to see one of his students looking very concerned. "Oh. I'm jolly good, why do you ask?" A smile formed into his face. What were they talking about? Did he look ill? He felt fine! Demetri looked down at the armor and said "I offered him a cookie, but he said... No..." He bit his knuckle and pretended to be upset. The point of this? There was no point.


"Sir? Are you...well?"

Another student? My, my, Demetri was getting popular. "I'm quite alright! I swear!" He stuck his hands in the air, as if he was innocent. "Don't worry about me, ladies. I'm perfectly fine." His young smile gleamed at the two. As if it wasn't normal to talk to oneself. Just because Demetrius was caught, doesn't mean he should feel any different about it. He could make up an imaginary friend right on the spot and would introduce it to the girls. He just didn't care.

A flick of his wand and the bag burn up into nothing. Demetri sighed before squatting down and examining the damage he had done. "If you two don't tell a soul, I'll give you both skip homework for the rest of the semester." He had found a giant dent in the arm. Perhaps he could fix it and make it seem nothing has happened. "Speaking of which... Thinking about joining the Astronomy club? I was in it when I was your age... Seems so long ago..." Demetri winced at the scratches on the metal, "But... It wasn't." He stood up with another grin.

He offered the armor a cookie? And it said no? Was Professor Woolfolk on something? Kit resisted the urge to turn on her heels and leave. That would be rude, and as much as she thought it was a mistake, he was a professor, after all.

Whatever his declarations on the contrary, Kit was quite certain that all was not well in the young professor's mind.

Kit crinkled her nose at the smell of the burning cookie bag. Shoudln't he be doing other thing, like say, repariign th damanged armor? Kit had sometimes knocked down a few suits hersel fwhen she used them for fencing practice, but she always immdiately righted the armor. Not offer it a cookie.

Good, finally "Professor" Wolldfolk was fixing the suit. Or at least giving it more attention than whether or not it had an appetatite for sweets.

Kit arched an eyebrow when he said that he would let them both off homework if they didn't tell anyone. Kit was begining to suspect that Woolfolk was as much a professor as Quidditch was a real sport. He wasn't and it wasn't.

Kit didn't quite know how to respond to that, so she didn't. It was only when he began talking about the Astronomy club that he even gave her something to respond to without being completely rude. If you don't have something nice to say and all that.

"I'm not sure I can fit it in with everything else I'm doing this year," she said politely, "But thank you for the offer."

She might be able to fit in in, actually, but if Kit had any free time she wanted to fill it with judo, fencing, and the Dueling club. Something active. And Astronomy was a nice enough subject, but she was far from passionate about it.

Yes, well, in Kit's opinion, it was very apparent that it hadn't been very long since Professor Woolfolk was a student. Wasn't their a minimum age requirement for a teaching position?

Saturday was the bezoar of every week, and this one was well-needed.  He woke late, the early afternoon sunshine rousing him from his bed.  To the greenhouses he went, accompanied by a light breakfast via house-elf.  The castle spoiled him.  Summers without the discreet staff made him all too aware of the luxury.  He weeded, sung, caressed his plant-life into growing to their full potential, particularly after the scare from his first years.  With his responsibilities fulfilled for the moment, it was time to work on his second novel.  Fraiser's prolific writing had created a similar itch in Graham, and it was well time he had a follow-up work. 

He rested on the landing while the staircase revolved towards the third level, having just missed its connection with the next flight of stairs.  A note of student-professor discord struck his ear, and Graham delayed his excursion to the library.  He made his way towards the noise, not surprised to see Professor Woolfolk. 

"Are you attempting to steal away one of our prized Chasers?" Graham teased.  The young professor was often attempting to recruit for his astronomy club.  If Graham had even the slightest tolerance for spending more time with the students, he might have made his own to increase the competition.  Adrienna Hayes showed a promising talent, and Graham would love to finally brag that his house had finally trounced everyone else to clinch the cup.  Losing to Slytherin was still a sore point.

Neither of the girls were currently in his class which might be why Graham was more inclined to think fondly of them.  They seemed well behaved and courteous, it was promising for their generation.  "I hear Gryffindor might actually be up to scratch this year," he continued, in a good mood for once.

Professor Graham Bombay soon joined the strange yet popular gathering, which Adrienna found to be rather comforting.  Professor Woolfolk was beginning to unnerve her. 

”Are you attempting to steal away one of our prized Chasers?” he asked Woolfolk in a joking tone.

Adrienna wasn’t sure how to respond, considering the roundabout compliment had not necessarily been directed towards her.  Nevertheless she smiled sheepishly and felt a little blood rush to her cheeks.  She didn’t want to seem overly hungry for praise, and therefore said nothing.

”I hear Gryffindor might actually be up to scratch this year,” Professor Bombay finished.

Adrienna nodded, “I’ve heard the same.  But then, as a player, I must always assume they will be better than us.  It assists with keeping my game at a high and consistent quality.  Same with anything and anyone else, I would assume…”

"I'm not sure I can fit it in with everything else I'm doing this year,"

Demetri gave her a sad look, but really understood. He was offered plenty of clubs, but he focused on things such as Astronomy Club and studies. "Such a shame, Ms. Branwell..." Was all he could really say. From the looks of it, Kit really didn't like him. But Demetri only realized this slightly. Thinking, maybe she'll like his class. Maybe...

"Are you attempting to steal away one of our prized Chasers?"

Demetri's eyes drifted to the voice he heard behind me. The jig was up, he could no longer bribe his students. Or could he? Graham was a rather respectable character... Definitely a better Professor than Demetri could ever really be. It was weird talking to Graham... Considering he had taught Demetri not so long ago. "Not worried I'll steal away Ms. Branwell? I heard she's in the dueling club- Quite good, too..." Why on earth would Bombay care? She wasn't a Ravenclaw. "I'm sorry, Professor Bombay-- Or... Graham... Or..." Demetri paused. He felt like a student again. "Anyways, I'll fix this..." He flicked his wand and the metal suit stood itself up, still dented.

"I hear Gryffindor might actually be up to scratch this year,"

"Really now?" Demetrius sounded a bit more disappointed, "I heard Gryffindor lost a couple of good players..." He continued to pick out each dent, his wand tapping the metal lightly. "I would love to hear Gryffindor win... But alas... Ravenclaw and Slytherin are quite-- Challenging teams." Demetri turned around, still not quite done with his deed, "They still have Mr. Carter, at least... I- I don't know if that's good enough." It was so strange having to talk as if he wasn't a Gryffindor himself...

"What brings you along here, anyways, Pro- Grah--... What brings you here?" A boyish grin sprung onto his lips. Demetri could hardly remember Herbology. Was he even good at it? Did Graham even like him? Demetri didn't think much of these questions, the whole point now was that they were there, together... Talking. As coworkers. So... Weird.

Such a shame Ms. Branwell

Kit nodded politely and did her best to try and look apologetic. Which was much harder than she thought it would be.

And then another professor showed up, this one a Herbology professor that could be excused a bit of untidiness  here and there considering his occupation.

"Hello Professor Graham," Kit said politely as he joined them and joked about the other professor stealing away a prize Chaser, amusingly Miss Hayes. Kit could barely recall who played for her own house, let alone another team.

She was a bit surprised to hear Professor Woolfolk speak well of her dueling club prowess.

"Why yes, I am a member, and thank you very much for the compliment," Kit told him.

She didn't even know he knew she was in the club.  And he fixed the armour, albeit still a bit dented.

I hear Gryffindor might actually be up to scratch this year

"Really? Well that's could news, indeed." Kit said, not really willing to admit she was completly ignorant of her own house's proficiency at Quiditch. She was unashamed to admit she didn't play or even like the "sport," but did feel sometimes that she ought to at least pay a little more attention to how the team did, a lot of players being classmates and friends after all.

She listened to Hayes talk about her tendency to assume everyone else was better than her and train accordingly. Kit approved.  Well, she approved of playing and training as if everyone was better, but sometimes she had trouble believing it.

"Not worried I'll steal away Ms. Branwell? I heard she's in the dueling club- Quite good, too..."

"Of course you know I meant Miss Hayes."  Sometimes Demetri could be a bit addled.  It was part of the boy-man's charm, Graham supposed.  Of course if Ms. Branwell were a Ravenclaw he would have already spoken to her about the team, but that was neither here nor there.  Sometimes the Professor resembled his sister a bit too much.  That Sasha was dating such an airhead was still surprising.  Of course, Graham could understand the real reason why. 

"I'm sorry, Professor Bombay-- Or... Graham... Or... Anyways, I'll fix this..."

"Of course you will, Professor Woolfolk," Graham responded, neatly sidestepping the issue of address.  It wasn't proper to discuss in front of the students, nor to be called by his first name where they could hear to pick it up.  It was enough to hear the 'Greasy Graham' chant discreetly echo in a hallway, he wasn't about to have students putting chants together in his face.

"That's why you're one of our prized chasers, Miss Hayes.  It's a good philosophy for any athlete or scholar to uphold."  Ravenclaw was going to win this year, he could feel it in his bones.  Monroe was going to whip the team into shape, whether the boy knew it or not. "Carter's to be reckoned with, but it takes more than just a good captain, it takes a good team."  Of course the Slytherin's tactics were what he really envied.  If he could only persuade his own team to take a less reputable tack they would have that cup in the bag.  But honor was the only high ground he had left against the house, which meant they had to win it the honorable way--to his chagrin.