 Cheesy Mac
Professor Shackleton strode onto the pitch carrying her own broom in one hand and her wand in the other, pointing beside her. Levitating along at her side were a number of the school brooms, which she carefully directed to the ground once she'd reached the group of students.
Greeting her students, "Good afternoon class. You're probably wondering how we could possibly hold an Arithmancy lesson out here huh? Well, I'm not going to tell you just yet! If you have your own broom with you, then just sit tight. For those that don't, come grab one of these school brooms. But just be careful with them because Professor Vindictus would be very displeased if anything happened to them, especially during a lesson for a subject that isn't Flying or Quidditch-related." Shackleton rolled her eyes, but she meant what she said. She didn't want Max nagging her for bending a twig or scuffing a handle.
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