Basic Level - Class 11

Andrew had been sitting, allowing the discussion to go on around him, but he decided to finally speak. "Professor, are there not two different spells that have been used to help in curtailing a dragon? A stunning spell, and a conjunctivitis curse--which causes pain to the eyes. The problem seems to be that for the stunning spell to be effective it takes several wizards to manage it. That does not seem to be the case for the conjunctivitis spell. There is, as well another spell that seems, at least to me to fit into a bit of a different catagory because it does not begin with an already living dragon. I've read about a Draconifors spell that allows a statue of a dragon to be turned into a real dragon which can be controlled by whoever cast the spell in the first place."

''Good, Oliver Twist... that is correct. Now, why not the Unforgivable Curses? Imperio... Crucio or Avada Kedavra? Why not them?'', he asked.

The alarm clock had gone off at the time Elijah had set it to but he’d hit the snooze button and rolled over. He’d heard the irksome thing fly off of the nightstand and look for somewhere to hide but by then he’d pulled his curtains shut and thrown the covers over his head. It wasn’t until about half way through breakfast when he’d gotten up. He didn’t even bother to shower or get dressed before doing anything else; instead he just pulled a pair of jeans on and wandered over to the enchanted windows. He then promptly lit a cigarette and took the half-finished glass of wine off of the top of the small bookshelf near the window. Not long after an elf appeared, bringing him some breakfast and Eli thanked the small creature. He flicked the cigarette out of the window, drank down the wine and quickly eating a crape before getting up and heading to the bathroom.

Once showered, Eli searched around for some school clothing. After finding nothing in the way of trousers he merely pulled some underwear on and a bright pink pair of skinny jeans that his father had sent him as a joke. Elijah found a clean-ish shirt in his trunk and threw it on, only doing three of the bottom buttons up before getting distracted by Nachash who had began to rip up the curtains of some other kid’s bed. Eli hissed at her and she returned the gesture before slithering out of the door. He shook his head and ran a brush through his hair, making him look more dishevelled than tidy. Eli took his robes off of the back of the desk chair and quickly shrugged them on before finding his bag. Eli quickly slipped his feet into his multi-coloured converse and flicked his wand at them, making the laces tie themselves. Eli attempted to tie his tie but in the end he just left it to hang around his neck.

He left the Slytherin Dorms, warning Nachash to stay where she was, she’d never been the same since Wilson ‘vanished her’, and ran up the stairs towards the first floor. He slowed a little as he walked down the corridor towards the classroom and began to leisurely stride. He must have looked as drunk as he felt as he was wobbling slightly. A few first years passed him and he glanced back at them as he heard one mutter something about alcohol and cigarettes. Eli frowned and sniffed the arm of his robes. Alright yes, he smelt like cigarettes, booze, and was that...sex? It couldn’t have been that bad though, right? Eli shook his head and he heard the bell on his choker tinkle. He smirked to himself and thanked the lord that he’d put some cologne on that morning...mid-morning, even. The cologne would have dulled the aroma that was simply Eli somewhat.

Another small cluster of students passed him and Eli smiled innocently. The one at the back pushed her friend along and Eli reached his hand up to stroke the hair on his face which had once again grown out. Meow his mind said mockingly. Eli smirked and the bell tinkled again as he stopped rather abruptly outside the Defence against the Dark Arts classroom. He opened the door and slipped inside. He closed it with a slight bang behind him and looked around, purposely ignoring Wilson who was talking about Unforgivable Curses. Eli spotted a seat next to that Andrew kid down the front and strode over there. He chucked his bag underneath the desk and sat down next to the boy. He ruffled the kid’s dark hair and smiled almost drunkenly. “Alright, kid?” he asked lazily before looking up at Wilson.

They hadn’t got along at all, ever since Eli walked into the wrong class months and months ago. Okay, that was a bit of a stupid thing to do on his part but he probably wasn’t completely sober even then despite the fact that his mother had stolen all of his wine. He looked at the board – dragons. Why don’t you use Unforgivables on dragons? Oh wait, duh... “It’ll really piss ‘em off sir,” he said, winking at Andrew and flashing a toothy smile at the boy. “I’m assuming they don’t work along with the other spells that don’t work on dragons. Understandable though, wouldn’t you be ticked if someone tried to use an Unforgivable on you?”

Andrew tried his best to stifle his laughter at the answer of the larger student who'd slid, sorta, into the seat beside him, but the 11 year old giggle escaped his lips no matter how hard he tried to stifle it. This Eli kid had seemed to be a rather prickly thorn for Professor Wilson, and Andrew really didn't want to give Eli any encouragement. However, Eli did look a trifle ridiculous, and his answer seemed even funnier to Andrew. He knew Eli was rather artistic, but if Eli considered this good color coordination, then he was a colorblind painter indeed.

To make matters worse, this morning, Eli looked a lot like some of Andrew's father's friends who'd decided to stay all night in the pub. Sorta smelled like it too. Well, for that matter, he'd seen his father look like that a time or four as well. Well, all except those weird pink pants, and Andrew was pretty sure those were not part of the Slytherin uniform. Besides that, they made the Slytherin snaky green tie look very odd and out of place.

And now, thanks to Eli, Andrew was working on getting a rather incurable case of the giggles. He had no earthy idea why, but he just couldn't stop laughing. He was truly trying his best to become serious again. He stared down at his textbook, trying to hide relentless silent giggling, and when that didn't work, he propped the book up on the desk and tried to slink a little lower in his seat to hide behind it. He saw some of the students around him catching on and they were also trying to hide giggles, finding Andrew's little boy giggle was very contagious. And he really was trying so hard to be good! The last thing he needed was the professor to be angry with him as well. The harder he tried to stop laughing, the more the students around him laughed, and that got him started all over again.