Unlike the Kendall outside of classes, the boy was almost always quiet during them. Not even entertaining a rare possibility that his son would not receive a Hogwarts letter, Augustus Rookwood had began teaching him magic at a young age. The Rookwood Manor was a training ground, a torture ground, a scheming ground, but it was also the home that Kendall grew up in. It was a home that he was proud of. There was no reason to not feel the pride of being a Rookwood. From the very first year at Hogwarts, Kendall had already began to find classes a drag. Not only were the earlier spells taught at Hogwarts already taught by Augustus to his son, but Kendall was even told that these spells were useless, and were taught other ones, the ones that Augustus knew Hogwarts would never teach. Of course, everything began from the simple basics, and Augustus knew he had to pace his son's learning correctly too. Safely said, though, Kendall coped reasonably with his school-work, and had to concentrate more on the extra materials his father would assign him every term, to be read at school.
Despite a fair amount of prior knowledge to the Hogwarts curriculum, Kendall took classes to be like revision, making his academic life easier, especially pertaining to the major examinations. Half of the time, though, he was observing other people in the class, scribbling his thoughts, or doodling, although he could not draw to even save his life, not that drawing could ever save anyone's life. As usual, Kendall sat at the back of the class, keeping to himself. He was more talkative, more sociable, as soon as he stepped out of class. In class, he was less of a troublemaker, and more of a spectator. After all, despite the pleasures of seeing trouble erupt in the lives of others, Kendall was more like a brewing pot, waiting for the right time and places, calculating time to avoid pre-maturity, and calculating steps. He also had a reputation to maintain, a reputation that he had established among general consensus, that he was not too bad a Slytherin. Of course, only his clique knew more traits about him that definitely told them that he was not at all what he made people to believe he was.
The scene that had transpired in the class was getting interesting. Kendall had been nonchalant to Darius' entrance. Or at least, he had looked that way. Ever since the time at the Weasley Party, the two had yet to have a decent conversation, especially after the other boy had annoyed him so, from his treatment of Athena, someone Kendall dangerously felt for. Kendall sat just behind a bunch of Slytherins, always pretending to be different from the crowd of them, but obviously always allied with them. Darius' comment about the lesson had amused him, since if they were on talking terms, Kendall would have expressed agreement. Instead, he watched an ignorant Ravenclaw girl (oh, the irony) get attacked by a spell that went out from Darius' wand. Knowing Darius, it was not going to have a good outcome, for Cecilia. Secretly, Kendall anticipated the girl's reaction eagerly. It was a lot more interesting than returning the gaze of a familiar-looking Hufflepuff girl, who was staring at him, as if wanting to ask him to partner her for the spell that they were taught for this class. Kendall was not interested, but he could feign in, later.
by Michi Leigh Sat Sep 10, 2011 12:55 pm
