Class Number One, 1-7 years

[Harry Potter]

It was the first day of school, and Durmstrang was alive again...At least, in a different, positive way. Students roamed the halls with their arms filled with books, potions and the like. It was all very nostalgic for him,, but it was also slightly annoying. Harry knew the Durmstrang kids, and he would tolerate none of their bullshit. Admittedly, he was in a bit of a bad mood. School starting meant that he had to wake up early, and waking up early made him angry enough as it was. Then, there was also that trivial thing called a lesson plan. Also known as, the thing he had created right before his first period class. Surprisingly enough, they had seemed to like it, so he kept it running. However, now it was the very last period of the day; kids would be worn out and probably a lot less responsive. Being a new teacher, he would also have to deal with the whole pushing of the limits crap, and all of his relentless fans. With a quick roll of his eyes and a wave of his hand, the door opened to the grand room. And soon it would begin.

The room itself was actually quite large. 30 desks were lined up in four consecutive rows. It wasn't the most exciting layout, but he didn't really care. Behind him, the entire wall was a chalkboard. Needless to say, there would be a substantial amount of notes in the class. To even out the depressing aura of the board, were floor to ceiling windows on the far right of the classroom. Luckily for him, it was a sunny day, and the nice view and blazing sunshine had kept him awake throughout the day. As the clock ticked ever closer to the end of the day, he almost felt like he was back at Hogwarts in one of those seats; anxiously anticipating the final bell of the day.

Nevertheless, he had to teach, and those kids had to listen, or it would be a lot worse for all of them.

[Anastazia Voitisin]

Oh look... she was early. Again. Seemed she was getting better at this. Entering the empty classroom, Anastazia cast a half-hearted glance about the rows of desks before tossing her dropping her bag unceremoniously on the floor next to one in the back and slipping into the seat. Her gaze quickly landed upon the Professor at the front of the room... and for the first time that year, she took the time to examine him. So that was the Famous Harry Potter. Bit scrawnier than she'd imagined. Was the - yup, scar was still there. It was, naturally, almost impossible to see from this distance, with his hair covering it and all... but it was there if you knew what to look for. And after all the pictures of him in the papers for the past god-knows-how-long... you'd have to be blind to not know what to look for.

After a moment though, she diverted her eyes away, knowing he must have gotten pretty sick of people gawking at him over his lifetime. Most people would be rather surprised to see her in this class, especially given the particular tattoo on her left forearm... But if asked, her answer was quite simple. How better to defeat something than to know it? Naturally, she'd take special care to conceal that part of her life while in this class... no need to stir up unnecessary trouble. She doubted Harry Potter would be very pleased if he found out he was teaching a Death Eater... Granted, it wasn't like she was a very well-known one. Her service to the Dark Lord had only recently begun... and she didn't fancy spreading the word around as if it were a raise in pay.

Anastazia didn't greet him... or really say anything at all. After her visual examination, she'd pulled out her book from the bag at her feet, opening the cover and glancing through the table of contents. Well... at least she could say it was going to be an interesting year. Hopefully.

[Pandora Hallow]

Time had never been something Pandora worried about. It was a distance partner, brushing past on it's own accord when it deemed appropriate. She hadn't particularly noticed the day drifted past. Others seemed relieved by the quickness, the hope that classes would be over sortly so they could returned to their boystrous routines. Pan didn't tend to take much attention to the people around her. Her attention was always gripped by the beauty the castle held. The cobwebs glittering across the windows, so fragile and elegant, but a death trap all the same. She felt slightly linked to the poor fly twined in the silky threads. As it struggled to freed itself from the evitable Pandora couldn't help but stare. Each movement of the victim made secured it's fate. Her eyelids blinked, missing the chase of the black predator along it's well made net. One day she would be trapped in a web with no hope of rescue, or maybe not. To be honest Pan had no idea what the future held for her all she understood was that she was here to offer her every skill for a cause. A cause that may kill her, but wasn't life about taking chances?

Her head tilted to the side in it's usual confused fashion. Threads of brown laced across her cheeks masking any exposed feelings she may have felt towards the poor sacrifice. It was only nature she had witnessed, but somehow it felt wrong. Wrong inside. Her pallid hands pulled around her chest. The contriction intensified when her ribcage raised rapidly, then fell. Pandora herself had no reason for this sudden stream of events. She closed her eyes to help sooth the strange emotions running through her body. Her glossed red lips shivered slightly as she waited. She wouldn't stand there for long. It wasn't the fact that younger kids chose to pick on her weaknesses, nothing to do with that, it was more about moving on. Dora movitated herself to wonder towards class leaving the fly corpse behind her.

The hallway wasn't busy surprisingly. Pandora managed to nestle her way through the dark masses until she appeared at a door. Her finger twined fluidly around the handle twirling it gracefully to the side. The door opened without much effort, which was always a nice touch. Her eyes glimpsed across the strict rows of desks. She guessed the atmosphere wouldn't be exactly cheery if they had the classroom to compete with. This was nothing sunny about it, which depressed her. A sigh uttered dramatically from her lips. Maybe she shouldn't be judging it so harshly yet. The Professor could turns things around with a flick of his wand. Pandora danced lightly through the rows of desks until she found the prefect place to settle herself. The front may not have been a choice other students would have made willingly, but Pan found it slightly cosy. She pulled her bag off her shoulder laying it gently upon the hard wood top. Her figure curled effortlessly into a chair. The room was quite empty she had noticed, but that would change. She hoped for her sake anyway.

[Sidney MacGrady]

Sidney strutted down the halls whistling a tune. He winked at girls who were in the halls. He was on his way to class early this time. A rare thing in the world of Mr. Sidney Connor MacGrady. He liked to be fashionably late to classes. Always one to make an enterance he was. Sidney continued to strut until he reached the doorway, opening the door slowly before walking in. He walked in and the very first thing he noticed was the ever so famous Harry Potter. Well nothing like learning from a living legend, right? Sid then noticed two lovely ladies sitting down in their chairs. "I think I found the right room to be in. Wow!" He flopped down into a chair in the middle of the room with a giant grin on his face.

[Vivienne Lancaster]

Vivienne, having left, left being the operative word, her last lesson, had found her latest escape rather dull. Now that term was so obviously upon them, the halls became over run and busy. It was starting to get on her nerves, and she only wished that maybe her next lesson wouldn't involve rotten eggs or anything that smelt surprisingly like it. Her bad experience, were some delightful Concinne had decided to slop the contence of their cauldron at her feet, hadn't made her entirely happy to not of portrayed her anger (almost choking the boy, might of caused detention, and she didn't want that.) So her Potions lesson had been one to witness, luckily within seconds she had managed to produce a spell to get rid of the smell, otherwise she might of refused to carry on with her other lessons. Someone had told her that everything was bound to happen in threes, though the incident in Potions had been the first, she wouldn't be surprised if it would be the last for the day. Already she was beginning to hate the idea of sitting in a room full of others, while pretending to do some sort of spell, or write something off the board. I mean, what was up with that? Did the Professor's think we're idiots, copying off the board; it was like telling a chimp to grab a banana from a moving hand. Obviously the task was easy, but obviously some people found it hard at the same time, Vivienne really didn't understand it. She was clearly annoyed.

Having leant her body against the middle of the second floor corridor, she had bent her leg to rest against the wall along with herself. She'd been stood there, just watching. She smirked every time someone decided to look at her in the eye, or secretly get nearer to get a better look, she found it hilarious. Like moths to a flame, they just couldn't help it. But then now and again, Vivienne would return the glance, or find herself leaving the wall to walk towards someone, the surprise on their face when she did. It was all a big game to her. But it couldn't always been a big game, class had finally ended and Vivienne vacated the piece of wall she had been using for the past five- ten minutes to move to her next class. She never remembered which order her lessons went in, She guessed it was Defense against the Dark Arts next, it was the only lesson she hadn't had yet, joy. In a way she wasn't looking forward to the subject. She could defend herself ok, already.

Moving along the corridor to the destination point of the classroom, she lingered briefly, to watch who entered and who carried on to other classrooms or passageways. Some she recognised and some she didn't. Biting the edge of her bottom lip, she took a deep sigh, before moulding herself with the tide that was entering at the same door. Obviously a lot of students had chosen to take the subject, Vivienne had just picked it because she thought it wise to spread her horizons, but hey. She already knew who the professor was, I mean who didn't, even if she was a Death Eater, she wasn't stupid. Everyone knew that Harry Potter was teaching again, here at Durmstrang, and Vivienne was going to make sure that he didn't find out anything too out of the ordinary about her. Moving into the room, her eyes wondered unconsciously around the room. Stazia, had been the first face she recognised, the others, well, she guessed she didn't really know. She moved towards her, luckily it was wear she would have sat anyway, near the back. As she reached the desk beside herself, she removed her bag and elegantly vacated the set. She had given an intrigued look to the older boy, a Concinne by the colours he was dressed in, he was, hmm...what was the word, cute, she guessed.

[Pandora Hallow]

Maybe her hopes had just been deminished. Although there were a number of students wondering in, the last seemed to be a young Atticus girl that Pandora did not recognise. She didn't really take note of all the students around Durmstrang. Pandora was normally too entertwined in her own little world, or being harassed by Miss Moon. That was where more of her attention was being centred. Orla was like a sister, but sisters could be very controlling and annoying, which Pan had found out the hard way. Her lips uttered a delicate sigh. She had no idea what she would do without La though. They were too pieces worthy of being put together. They clicked, which was a rare occurence. Dora tilted her body towards the left side of her chair. The wood really was uncomfortable at times. The school needed to invest in cushions or something. She fidgetted idly having no other distractions to bring her attention away from the numbness in her spine. Her brown eyes stared blankly at the wall. It's boring white surface seemed to displease her. It was nothing like the common room that she was so used to. There needed to be colour, not only to liven up the room but to liven up the students within it. She took her head lightly in disapproval. It wasn't her place to judge though. Her figure lifted elegantly from the chair back as she rifled through her bag for a quill. She'd better be prepared.

[Orla Moon]

She hoped that she wasn't late. More than anything, she hoped that she was early for her class. Of course everyone had heard about the great Harry Potter and his skills and Orla wasn't ashamed to admit that she was quite unnaturally excited for this class. The only problem was, that Orla really wasn't very good at spells that weren't something to do with turning an object into something she thought was pretty. Subjects like Transfiguration and Charms allowed her to use her own imagination and god knows she has a lot of it. But she was willing to try. Willing to attempt the spells that they would be learning in the lesson. Turning around the last corner, Orla found herself in the wrong corridor. It was strange. She was sure that she had taken the right turning. Maybe she had missed the change in the stairs.. but then why would she be on the five floor. It just didn't make much sense to her. Orla tilted her head; you could see the confusion in her face. It made her cheeks go a bright pink. She turned, to see if there was some sort of clock, but she couldn't find one. So she ran to the nearest secret passageway. She remembered it, only because she'd fallen through it in her second year. She knew that it went to the right floor, to get the right staircase. So she made her way around and finally reached the second floor.

Pulled her bag higher up her shoulder, Orla walked quickly through the corridor, down to the Defense against the Dark Arts room. It wasn't far and luckily for her, there was still people following behind her. It was a good sign. Pulling her blonde hair behind her ear, she stepped into the room. Of course she'd gathered that there would already be people here, but at least she wasn't late. She hated being late. It felt like the end of the world to her. She didn't look up from her stare at the floor. She felt uncomfortable looking at him, well she guessed she would have to call him Professor Potter , not 'him'. But everyone else had to. It was just that with everything that the newspapers said, she kind of thought that she knew what it was like to be him, because newspapers are just a load of rubbish. Not that he was. Walking down the aisle, Orla slipped into a seat and placed her bag on the floor. Her blue eyes looked around the room, spotting Pandora, thought she didn't really recognise anyone else.