Dark Arts Class One: Advanced Level

Sandra opened the doors to her classroom with a flick of her wand, walking past the row of chairs and desks before reaching the head of the classroom. She lay her suitcase on the desk, and it popped open with a wave of her wand, it's contents flying across the room and settling down at their determined locations.

Up the chalkboard, she wrote: AN INTRODUCTION TO ADVANCED "DARK" ARTS

James Wake entered his newest class carrying his bag, slung of his shoulder callously. He knew little of the teacher, but he knew plenty about Dark Arts. He grew up using all kinds of magic, and he felt that this class would be amongst the "easier" of his courses. He still had a few doubts however. This was a relatively new class, and most students had little intention to continue the course. If he were the only student, he certainly would not have minded. But the thinning of the crowd also paved the way for the more... sadistic of the students. He fortunately did not know of any student that actually craved torture and destruction. He could understand an interest in such concepts, but people who actively sought it out were below despicable.

James Wake took a seat in the first row, smiling and nodding in the professor's direction.
"Hello Professor."

Angelique had signed up for Dark Arts for the same reason she had joined Julia's silly little Baby Death Eater Club. Those who didn't show solidarity with the establishment were bound to be trodden on all year, and 'Lique was far more comfortable doing the treading, thank-you-very-much.

That and she was bound to learn something fascinatingly horrid that she could practice on the first years. Who knew? If she killed enough mudbloods before the end of term, she might get the award for special services to the school. Nobody had been given that award for almost a century; it would be something of a coup to have her name inscribed on it.

On entering the classroom, 'Lique's anticipation was dulled as she noticed the Wake boy. He was an insufferable idiot, and if she didn't watch herself, she was bound to get into an argument with him at some point. She could only hope their professor was sensible enough to see past his self-professed brilliance.

Pointedly, she ignored him and walked to the other side of the room to find a seat.

It was amazing what you were allowed to read when Death Eaters took over the school. Marlowe hadn't realised how much of his reading material had been censored back when the staff were all good and the restrictions on the restricted section of the library had been enforced.

Of course, there was still a restricted section, it just had different things in it now. Things like their old Muggle Studies text book and anything that used the word equality. Unfortunately, Marlowe was already too old to become a mindless drone. His questioning nature had been awakened years ago. Just had to remember not to let on about that.

Marlowe was just flicking through Cooking with Muggles. It wasn't what it sounded like. That is to say, it was exactly what it sounded like; it just wasn't what you expected. He'd gotten over the gruesome description several chapters ago. Now he just had to come to terms with the illustrations. He'd never thought there'd be a downside to moving pictures before.

It would just sound too odd if Miseria wouldn’t show her face in this class. She loved dark arts, although, she was in this ’light force’, or better known as the Good Side. But that wasn’t the thing what would stop her coming by. She was one of the first ones who signed herself for this lesson, and though, the teacher was a Death Eater, she saw no threat in her. Death eaters wouldn’t attack students. She smiled when she entered the room, looking at the professor. Sometimes it was just good to play a girl who doesn’t know much about the world. “Good day, professor,“ she said in her soft voice, looking then around. She saw James Wake, and gave him a quick nod as ’hi’, although, she really doupted that he would even bother to answer her, and then two other students, who she didn’t know. She, on the other hand, didn’t know much about the dark arts, and such stuff. She sat down on her mostly usual place, the last row, turning her eyes back at the professor.

It is difficult to say why Elijah opted to take Dark Arts. It had been a staple part of the curriculum during his time at Durmstrang so he did have a few spells splattered around in his mind but the big ones that they really loved to ram into you, he’d all but forgotten. This was survival for him. He wasn’t a good person by any means but he wasn’t pure evil. He just had a few blank spots that had yet to be coloured in properly. Dark Arts would be useful though, whichever way you looked at it. Elijah entered the classroom and closed the door behind him. He ran a hand through his hair and pulled a seat out for himself. He sat down and threw his bags underneath the desk mumbling, “G’morning Professor,” as he did so.

Sandra watched the children file in, all taking their seats around the class. Some mumbled a polite good morning. Others did not. None, apparently, were students like she had been, the kind that would be in class 10 minutes early and strike up a conversation with the professor on one obscure point of magical theory or another.

Good. That would be so utterly boring she wouldn't have known what to do with herself.

Once a good number of them were seated, Sandra calmly reached under her desk and pulled out a large bottle of champagne. Uncorking it, she summoned a few glasses from thin air and sent them flying across the room, where they landed on each of the student's desks. She poured herself some champagne, and then allowed the bottle to float off towards a random student (Whoever is the first to reply)

"Well, pour yourselves some," Sandra said, looking around the room. But don't drink just yet."

A lesson on poisoning? Angelique poured herself a glass of champagne, let the frothing subside and raised the glass to ostensibly appreciate the bouquet. Just as she'd suspected, it smelled like ordinary, though cheap, champagne.

She passed the bottle to the person behind her, and raised the glass to eye level. The liquid was the perfectly golden colour she was familiar with. Bubbles slowly crawled up the side of her glass. To anyone not in a Dark Arts class, it was a completely innocent beverage.

Ah SHIT! I thought I wouldn't be late ! Hidama ran through the hallway, hissing out curses after bumping into people that got in her way. She loved the Dark Arts classes, and therefore couldn't believe she was late for one. Well, she wasn't -that- late, but late nonetheless. She was at the door, opening it slowly, she peeked inside. "Eh, good morning. Sorry I'm late!" Without waiting for a reply from the teacher, or anyone in that matter, she snuck into the classroom and sat down. There was a glass on her table, and a bottle was being passed around, so she naturally grabbed the bottle and poured into the glass.

Observing the others, she also waited with taking a sip, not really wanting to lie on the floor while foaming if this was something they were just supposed to -observe- and not drink.

Zack walked into the room and noticed the class had started "Sorry i'm late professor" he said not wanting to mention that part of the reason he was late was because he wasn't sure he wanted to enter the class. While the dark arts were a interest of his it was not his parents interest, though what could they do since they were half way across the world. He walked to a desk in the back and waited patiently for the bottle of champagne to make its way to him. he carefully poured it and then passed the bottle on. He noticed no one else was drinking so he patiently waited to see what the lesson was. He raised the glass so the liquid inside was at eye level he examined it and then placed it back down unsure what to do. He found himself thinking about how the death eaters had taken over last year he wondered if one day he would become one as well after all they always did appear to be the strongest of the political powers in this part of the world.


He let the thought drift away as he looked back at the teacher he gave her a smile but it wasn't his normal happy one it was one that showed his curiosity for the subject but fear for the raw power he would learn in the class. He once again found himself stuck in thought as he thought of Godric. Had he been a death eater? Such thoughts were of little use as he seemed to have dropped off the planet. Coming back to reality he looked back down at the glass of liquid in front of him he wondered if it was poisoned or if it were simply a token of good faith to make the students more relaxed. It would be a interesting tactic but it would be useless in the end, he was sure most students would either be scared of her or just nervous to be learning a forbidden form of magic.