Defense Against The Dark Arts (First Years)

Max entered the classroom, and looked around, licking his lips slightly. He was the only other person in the classroom, besides the turban-adorned teacher who smelled strongly of onion. Max made a mental note of this to show up later next time to class a bit later-it was always better to show up a bit fashionably late and not risk looking geeky.

With that, he sat down towards the back of the class, at a window seat.

Libby wandered into the classroom. She, on the other hand, had thought it was always best to be punctual. She didn't want to look like that slob who showed up late and didn't care. She sighed a breath of relief when she walked in and saw that she wasn't the only person there. Good, it was another Gryffindor. He was kind of cute, too.

Tossing her long, dark brown ponytail over her shoulder, she made her way to a random seat, wondering why on earth the teacher was wearing a turban.

Max glanced up at the girl-a Gryffindor, just like him, trying to look inconspicuous. Taller, dark haired, with an odd look in her eyes. He kept looking at her, and a small smirk was drawn on his face. Also, a nerd, by the way she showed up early.

He pulled on a strand of his dark curly hair, and turned to face the girl, with the odd smirk still on his face.

"Hey."

Libby turned and smiled at him, which faltered a bit when she saw how creepy he looked with that smirk. Eww. "Hey!"

Professor Quirrell scurried around the class with a bundle of papers in his hands. He looked twitchy and jumpy, and kept casting a frightened look over his shoulder in a paranoid sort of way. He waited for the class to fill up, and adjusted his turban wincing a bit in the process of doing so. Maybe he smelled the garlic from his turban, and realized how embarrassing that is.

Max continued to look at Libby rather awkwardly, and his smirk gradually began to fade. He began to twiddle with his thumbs. He didn't really like this girl, but what could he possibly say without being overly insulting.

Finally, Max received a divine inspiration.

"You know that ponytail?" he inquired.

Serenity was chilling outside, trying to wonder when she could follow around the attractive upperclassmen.

Libby unconsciously fiddled with the end of her ponytail. "What about it?"

"It makes your head look big." he answered bluntly.

"Your curly hair makes your cheeks look chubby, but that doesn't mean I should say it to someone I just met."

Max looked dumbfounded. He just glared at her and spat "Shut up!" at her, before turning around.

Libby chuckled under her breath, and grinned deviously. "Nice comeback, genius."

And Max turned around, still agitated. "You know, I bet you couldn't think of a good reply yourself! I could, but I feel creativity right now so!"

"You feel creativity right now, so you can't think of a good comeback? That makes sense," Libby said sarcastically.

"Okay, I can think of a good comeback!" He cleared his throat, and thought carefully for a minute. "...You're so pale, you make an albino look tan!"

Libby squinted at him. "I don't think you know your colors very well. See, I'm much more tan than a good deal of people here." This was true. From being out quite a bit in the summer, Libby was pretty tan. Obviously not as much as Max, though.

"I can see colors just fine! You must be the one who's colored blind!" argued Max.

"Okay, class. S-s-settle down!" the quivering man said, clapping his hands together. Out of nerve, he missed and then had to reclap his hands together again.

A little black-haired girl darted in at the last moment, completely winded, stealing the desk nearest the door.

And so class began.

Professor Quirrell looked around his class with a shivering smile. "Hello, I am Professor q-Quirrell. I w-w-will be your Defense ag-g-Against Dark a-a-Arts teacher for this whole y-y-year!" he nodded and rubbed his hands. "S-so let's ju-just go over what we'll be g-g-going over t-through this whole y-year!"

Max stared up at Professor Quirrell, and blinked. He thought they were going to have this awesome teacher who was completely fearless, and learn how to defend one's self in battle. Instead, they had this stuttering buffoon. What a joke.

Professor Quirrell then told them all about what they were to learn over the course of the year, and then began the first lesson.

He flipped the board over, and did some spell, and then the piece of chalk began to write on the board. The lesson stated:

TERM ONE: BODY-FREEZING

Spell 1: Petrificus Totalus


"So, we'll first be practicing this c-c-completely harmless spell on inanimate objects."

Why on earth would they be practicing a physical petrification spell on inanimate objects? Such a logical thought did not strike Mel's mind. She was too focused on trying to name the shade of purple the professor's turban was. This wasn't an easy feat; she only knew two or three.

(I say it's a shade of plum.)

[She doesn't know what plum is.]