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Post by valkyrie on Aug 4, 2010 1:33:28 GMT
Tapping her wand on the underside of the desk, Harley let out a sigh and rocked back on her chair with boredom. The 'overseeing' teacher at the front of the room didn't seem to notice, too busy marking homework. She leaned over her parchment. The ink was still wet from her last half-hearted line of I will not trap first years inside secret passageways. She had been assigned fifty, and had so far completed six.
Rather than the lines, the parchment was covered in doodles. Sketches of eyes covered margins, with long lashes and thick outlines, slits for pupils. She wasn't an artist by any means, but it was a way to pass the time that seemed to drag by. Her gaze flickered to the clock every so often, only to find that it had barely shifted. She rolled her shoulders, glancing around the room and wondering if there would be any others coming to join her.
Harley knew her grandfather would go insane if he knew she had received a detention, right at the beginning of the school year. And for such a silly thing, too. He'd bark about how Xavier had never been this much trouble, and how quiet Isabella had always been and if your mother heard about this blah blah blah...
Even in her head she tuned him out. She felt a little mean - he was just an old man. An aggressive, bitter old man, but just an old man all the same. And he was her closest relative, aside from her mother (who didn't really count, being insane and all), so she supposed she should respect him.
Picking up her quill again, she twirled it idly between her fingers, her eyes flicking between the door and the clock at regular intervals. She wished something would happen, just to break her out of this stasis. Of course, nothing would. It never did.
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Post by quentin on Aug 4, 2010 2:05:56 GMT
The clock struck 8 o'clock, letting this Slytherin know it was about time that the detention started. He had received orders from the teacher to come down to the room about a half hour after it started to take over. Just how he felt like spending his night. Watching screw ups that are too pathetic to get themselves out of trouble. He could only guess that there was at least one Slytherin in the room. They couldn't all be as smooth as him, Quen thought to himself.
After laying in his bed with his fingers laced behind his head for about 25 minutes, Quentin sighed and raised to his feet. Bidding his friends and roommates farewell, he climbed down the stairs to the common room and made his way into the hallway. Being a 7th year Prefect had its advantages, like being able to walk around the castle without getting caught, but it also had its disadvantages, like what he had to do tonight. Teachers respected him and trusted him, so he couldn't let them down... At least not until one of the last days of school, maybe.
Bernier walked up a few flights of stairs, nodding to whatever teacher he passed on the way. He wasn't paying too much attention to who it was, as he really didn't care. Finally he arrived at the door and knocked, only to walk it right after anyway. As he entered, he saw only one girl in there so far. Well, either the others were really late or skipping, or she was the only pathetic one for the night.
He tapped the teacher on the shoulder since he seemed so into his paperwork. Once the professor looked up, Quen gave him a smile and told him that he could leave. The teacher didn't seem to hesitate and almost ran out of the room. Letting out another sigh, he took his place on the comfortable chair and propped his feet up on the desk, lacing his fingers behind his head like he was previously doing in his dorm.
A few minutes passed. Quentin was already bored out of his mind and wanted to get out of this place and go back with his friends. He let his feet drop to the floor and stood up, stretching. He strutted over to where the girl was sitting and stopped in front of her desk, looking down at the piece of paper. "Wow. You got far," he said sarcastically. Taking the paper in his hand, he crumpled it up and threw it in the trash can like he was shooting a basketball. "You're free to go." That way, so was he.
He began to walk away when something clicked in his mind. Backing up, he asked, "You're in Slytherin aren't you?" He sighed and shook his head. "Figures the one person who gets detention tonight is from my own house. What a disgrace."
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