How exciting, transfig- before Halloween. Folake filed in hidden amongst the older kids and greeted the big dog with a toothy grin. Clearly, their professor was having some Halloween fun -her mother would not approve and her father would goodnaturedly laugh it off but ultimately think the man was a bit of a show-off- and fitted herself neatly at the front of the class, unloading her quills (the favourite with ostrich feather and the backup, a flamingo pink), ink and her transfiguration notebook, a multicoloured thing chosen to represent the class.
She wanted to put her best foot forward for her first year and had been sitting at the front of every single class, often sneaking around her peers to get to prime spots before they could sit- resulting in them sitting on her lap in shock. Her tutors impressed upon her that making a good first impression was the most important thing for Hogwarts students and her father had hired the best British wizards to teach her what she needed to know about British culture.
Professor Carton asked his first question and Folake's quill went to work writing down his question and a few of the answers she thought best answered the question -some of her classmates didn't actually answer his question and were clearly showing off knowledge he didn't actually ask for. Yea, we get it, you're a seventh-year and still can't do as you're asked. Folake rolled her eyes, scratching the quill across the page. She would ignore those the professor didn't cosign. She was prone to taking unnecessary notes, often writing exactly what her professors said, word for word. She had the best notes in that regard. |