 Sassenach l theJoff l RoughDough l Aslan l Snidget l My Lord Kate l Dark-Side l BEETSSS l smol George
Mason poked her head through the trap-door, her arms clawing at the floor beneath her hands. It wasn't as if she was scared of heights or anything, but since she was a Second Year now, she spent as much time on the Quidditch-Pitch as possible. She was trying to perfect her beats, which obviously required a ton of upper-arm strength and those exercises were starting to take a toll on her body, especially in the arm division.
She scrambled into the tower-room, book-bag slung lazily over her sore shoulder. Mason was a bit excited for this class, since last year's had been such a fiasco or so she heard. . . she hadn't attended that class, since sleep was way more important, duh.
She gave the professor a little wave, "Good morning, Professor." Well, she hoped that it would be a good one, the professor probably knew. . . since she knew everything. . .
Oh! Pleasant snack-y surprise. Mason glanced warily at the tea though, since last time a professor gave them that, they turned into smol-Hobbits and had to go on plant-adventures. So she was going to steer clear of that. Mason grabbed one of the little cookie-thingys and went to take a seat, already rummaging around in her bag to make sure that she hadn't forgotten anything, something that she was wont to do. . . a lot.
Let ze class begin. |