First Class

A new class! Byron was excited about it, from what he had heard about it. Sure, they were all talk with people who never truly even experienced one class of Practical Magic, but still, he was one to believe in hearsay. It was an improvement though, he was actually excited about something related to classes, for once. He had to drag Trent along with him, who was less excited about the class than he. Then again, Trent was never excited about school, unless it meant a time to have some fun with girls or substances. He was such a wreck. Byron never entirely agreed with his lifestyle, but who was he to nag? No, he was contented with his own life, and that was enough. Still, he had made the effort to drag Trent along to classes, ever since it seems like Trent and Elliot were having some kind of a cold war, for reasons unknown to him.

Having read the letter from the Professor earlier, Byron gladly threw on a plaid shirt and jeans, and ran with Trent to the classroom on the first floor, almost bumping into a Ravenclaw boy at entry. Thankfully, fast reflexes stopped him in time. Still, someone slammed against his back, and Byron turned around to glare at his friend. Quickly, though, he turned his attention back to the classroom, surprised at the setting of it. With a wave, he greeted, "Hello Professor!" And then of course he spotted Millie, and went right to her. As soon as he stood by her, he asked, "Where is the gang?" It seems, as of late, the Gryffindor gang had been hanging out less and less, and Byron actually wondered about it, despite how people always assumed his oblivion.

Trent had missed the first day of classes at Hogwarts, and so the second round of letters made him expect a Howler from the parents. Oddly enough, there was none. However, unlike the last round when everyone had letters but him, there was finally one now. He checked the signature first, and was surprised to see it was his father's. It was customary for Demelza to write the letters, including whatever Dean wanted to tell his son too. This time, though, the fact that his dad had written instead struck Trent as a little out of the ordinary. It was a short letter too. There was an apology for missing the day to send their son off to Hogwarts. That took up just one sentence. Trent was annoyed. For all the rejection they made him feel, the apology was just one that sounded obligatory. He had chucked the letter aside, intending to leave it before bedtime.

Seeing that he had not gotten a Howler, Trent was relieved, even tempted, to miss more classes. Too bad for him, Byron had taken on the unnecessary role of shepherding him around to classes. To not incite more pestering from the other boy, Trent had reluctantly tagged along for classes, although half of his mind was always not with him. It went along with half of his heart. He spent more time in the Common Room now, with his eyes always at the Girls Dormitory. Not that they usually did not already linger there, since it was far better than staring into the fire or other younglings. Still, his eyes had tire themselves more than usual, waiting for a sight of Millie, before returning to whatever lame textbook he held in his hand when she really did appear. After all, returning to the dormitory would feel colder than usual, since Elliot was not speaking to him, and Trent felt like he had to feel guilty for whatever it was that Elliot was pissed about.

The school was full again, with too many students around all the time. But that was why Trent loved school. He loved people. He just needed them for company, that's all. It had been like this ever since he was a child. Folding up the sleeves of his shirt, he checked to see that Byron had began to run. Sighing, Trent chased after his friend, only to collide into Byron when he halted at the entrance of the classroom. "Dammit, Byron!" He swore, not caring if anyone bothered about it. While Byron greeted the Professor, Trent merely eyed him and then looked at the classroom, not expecting to see it like this but not commenting anyway. There were better things to talk about, or even, to look at.

Trent's eyes landed on a Ravenclaw girl, and he was about to remark to Byron about her, when he noticed that his friend was gone again. Trent looked for Byron, before he realised that Millie was here too, and Byron had gone to her. For a millisecond, he contemplated going to sit with the Ravenclaw girl, that was probably the part about him that Elliot had knocked the lights out of him for. But of course, he made his way to Millie instead.

Miseria wasn’t excited nor happy about the new lesson. It was her last year in hogwarts, and she had a lot things to do. First of, she was Hufflepuff’s prefect, which meant that she had some duties. Second – she also was Hufflepuff’s Headgirl. Double the duty part. And the third, and maybe even the best part was that she’s the new Potter’s Army leader. And thinking about that, she was about to gather the kids from the playground, and teach them something, although, it was hard to do so. Now at least. Most of the members had survived the war, and she doupted that they had any spells that would need a lot of practicing. Each of the Potter’s Army members were talented and good at everything.

She got the letter from the professor, and according to it, she left her school uniform in the dorm, and maybe for the first time after five-four years, she was actually wearing something ’normal’ and comfortable. When she entered the classroom, she sighed quietly. For the first time she wasn’t the only Hufflepuff there. And she wasn’t late, which was Perfect.
“Hello,“ she said quietly before stepping forward.

Alex had took into count the Gryffindors idea, he had gotten his friends clothes back, or had made some clothes, Alex had the elves wash his clothes. He woke up that morning, realizing that it was day for classes, he had gone to his potions class, next was his practical Magic Class, he had gotten a letter seeing that they were going there casual, so he went to his dorm, and put on some random clothes, and left the Hufflepuff Dunegon. As he walked upstairs.

Thoughts ran through his mind of starting a rebellion, he had already mentioned it once or twice, Potter's Army was a rebellion, it was a rebellion against Death eaters, they could rarley ever care about some stupid guards at school, and Alex was in potters Army, he knew that for a fact.

He thought of starting a rebellion of it, until he hit the classroom door with a loud thunk, it opening and the handle making a hole in the door. Alex felt emberassed and just said, "Yo." And then went to the back.

Chris was just walking around. Minding her own business then the bell rang! Practical Magic was on the first floor. She was on the seventh! She started running down the stairs .... in heels. You know Muggles may not be that bad. They have elevators! she thought. She tripped down the step and tumbled down to the sixth floor. All of her books flew right out of her hand across the hallway. Ugh! This really isn't my day! she thought. she picked them up and ran down the staircase. She bumped into a random kid at the bottom of the steps. "Hey!" the kid said to her. "Not the time!" Chris snapped.

As she scurried down the next flight of stairs to the fourth floor, she saw a teacher, which would probably annoy her about "running in the hallways". She than broke into a fast walk and simply smiled at the teacher. When she was out of sight, she scurried down the next flight of stairs. Her feet started to hurt. The corridors were busy and it was hard to run through them with a bunch of talking kids were in your way. Chris made it to the end of the hallway and went down the next flight of stairs. She was now on the second floor. She was tired and out of breath. Chris took a spot on the wall to catch her breath and started to hurry to class again. She finally made it to the first floor.

She entered the room pissed off that she had to run through the school. "Sorry I'm late," she said to the teacher. Every one was staring at her. She was sweaty and tired looking.

Louis had a frown on his way to Practical Magic, he was wasting his time with this class when he had more important things to do, he was Gryffindor Prefect, which meant he stood up late at night checking if students were around, one good part was that he was Deputy Leader of Potters Army, not as good as being leader, but the next best thing, he was still ashamed of himself for saying the killing curse last year in the battle, Louis really stood up all night.

He had gotten a letter saying that he was going to a field trip today, to wear casual clothes, Louis shrugged and threw on some clothes, he then had gone to the class, seeing he was late he just said, "Sup." And moved next to Alex. He then saw his cousin Julien, his mom was Gisele Delacour, Louis aunt, since his mother was Fleur Delacour, he walked over to Julien and tapped him on the shoulder, "Hey cuz!"

James Wake enjoyed the thought of attending class in casual wear. It was perfect for real spell casting, and it was functional. Nothing more was necessary. No badges, no cloaks, no...
"NO FANGED FRISBEES!"
James flicked his wand at a couple of third years, kids by all accounts as they tossed around a flat disc with fangs. The frisbee was knocked from the air, and the Head Boy approached the boys, grabbing the disc in question.

A few minutes later, and stern berating following that up, James was allowed to resume his remuneration. What was he thinking again? Ah yes, Practical Magic... a course that he had signed up for on a whim, and intended on actually enjoying. A fair change from the usual lecture, where all James needed to do was perform as requested. No, this was a free form class. Whatever was necessary could be used.
James was dressed in a plain grey t-shirt, beneath a brown, aviator-esque coat, and plain blue Jeans held in place by a cloth belt. It was an amalgamation of whatever he had at his disposal, with a bit of alchemy for the belt.
The class was peppered with a number of individuals. His fellow prefect, Louis Weaseley was present, for instance, as was Miseria, perhaps the most insecure of the new prefects. There were a few more faces amongst the crowd. Perhaps only one more Ravenclaw. A LOT of Hufflepuffs. A rather sagely professor.

All in all, the type of crowd the course description would attract. It was much harder to differentiate the houses from one another without the school uniform, but James learned to attach faces to a house. It may not be the most reliable manner of identification, but it worked fro what it was for.

Cilla hated classes, she hated them almost as much as she hated people. People and classes, the two biggest things she hated. Not that she showed it much. In fact, there was rarely an emotion she showed that wasn't hyper, or double hyper. A smile was planted on her face, and she was the oddball of the Slytherin house. Everyone expected Slytherin's to scowl, be rude, and mean, and hate people, Cilla was the complete opposite of all of this, in fact, by the way she acted, she should have been a Hufflepuff. Smiling all the time, there wasn't a moment that she wasn't happy. Except in her head, in her head it was a warzone against her thoughts and her actions. Years of practice made her mood on the outside, and on the layers of thoughts just under the outside, appear the same, happy, hyper, content. On the very core of her though, when others weren't around... she was a scowling, massively arrogant Slytherin.

During the day, Cilla took in EVERYTHING, from the fact that D'eath was hot and sweaty, wearing heels and had run probably all the way from the seventh floor to down here, to the conversations that were going on in the classroom. She sat happily doodling, and barely looking up from her paper, but in the times that she DID look up, she took in a lot of what was happening in snippets, and piecing them together neatly for examination later, it took a lot of concentration to look happy, and calm, and perfect.

Wearing a cute Green tank top, and jeans with lots of rips in them, she had on simple heels, and her hair pulled back into a pony, she looked like any other Muggle girl on the street, except that she had her wand tucked behind her ear, and the area around the wand appeared to be turning slightly green due to her concentration on the paper, and not paying attention to the wand. She finished her drawing and held it up happily, examining the details in the outfit she had designed, examining her coloring, and the shape and even the measurements she had written on the sides of the picture, it was a cute outfit, and she loved it, to bad wizards hated muggle designs, and would only ever wear robes, it got boring when all you wore were robes. Cilla glanced around the class happily, leaning forward to try and pay attention to the teacher.

All of the students coming one after the other made Ambrosa smile. So many Hogwarts students all from different houses... For a long time she stayed the only ravenclaw... Like always. This year the ravenclaws seemed to be really weak. The new people were.... well a mess. Ambrosa poured herself a mug of tea as she waited for the real class to start. Sudent after student came in. Most of them were either Hufflepuffs or Gryffindors. A couple of Slytherins as well.... A couple of the prefects that came in , Ambrosa gave a weak wave to. Occasionally she would pick her mug and take a small sip of her tea. It was a weak one, delicious, true, but nothing special.

Ambrosa smiled as finally another ravenclaw walked in. James, her fellow prefect. Ambrosa raised her hand and waved at him, showing him that there was a free chair next to her. Ambrosa picked up her mug and drank the last sip of her tea and then carried it over to the table with the used mugs with magic. Sometimes being a witch made it easy being lazy.

Michael checked his watch. He had given the others who had registered for the class plenty of time to get here. And they hadn't come. So much for their first class. They were about to miss it.

"Well," Michael said, still seated and looking at his class. "I see you all got your letters. Well done, then. As you've figured out, I am Michael Tremaine, your professor for Pracical Magic. I have always found that, in generations past, half of what Hogwarts taught was good to expand my brain cells but did little to prepare me for the real world. I had to learn that without the benefit of the good professors here, for the most part. I hope to help you avoid that.

"To tell you just a moment about myself, I am an immensely practical man, and I believe that, as you are looking at graduation this year or next, you need to know the very basics at least of how to get about and how to take care of yourselves. Some of that, you should be learning in Defense Against the Dark Arts, Charms, Transfigurations, Potions, and your other subjects. However, there are basics, that the Ministry has traditionally meant for you to learn directly from them. Contrary to what I am allowed to tell you, I shall tell you the truth whether anyone else likes it or not. I have little, myself, to lose by telling you the truth. You, however, have a very great deal to learn if I do not.

"Robert Lupin made this class possible for you to do before you get out in the real world and he arranged it with your headmaster during the last academic school year. That contract still stands. So, in this class, you will learn things that others will wish you not to know. Today we will start with some basics about apparation. You will also learn about the usage and the creation of portkeys, how to keep them safe, how to not toss your breakfast when you use a portkey or apparate. Then we will move to other things. If you're all ready to learn how to, for today, do some side apparating, then let us be on our way. The protection spells do not allow us to apparate on school grounds. Your headmaster is the only person with that priviledge. Therefore, we must take it upon ourselves to take a short walk off the grounds in order to begin our class.

"First a rule or two. If any of you walks off or apparates away from this group, you will be expelled from this class for the remainder of the term. Second, apparating and porting are very dangerous business. If you disregard the very intricate business of porting or apparating properly, I will be hunting little bits of you all over the globe for days and our infinitely wise healers at St. Mungos might not be able to put you to rights again--a lot like a nursery rhyme the muggle children know about an odd character named Humpty Dumpty. Are we all clear on that? IF you are not, or you have an irrepressible urge to be rebellious, I will gve you ample opportunities to do that off school grounds, I assure you. Muck it up now for yourselves, and you just might end up killing yourselves. Are we all very, very clear?" He looked about the classroom, and then he stood up and picked up his walking stick with the large quartz crystal in the top of it. "Lets be off then," he said, ""Follow along if you're coming, and if its too dangerous for you, you're dismissed to go back to your house." He headed out the door, down the hallway and out the front doors of the great castle to lead them of school grounds.