Classroom Practice | Mary and Gwen
Two o’clock, Sunday afternoon. Beams of sunlight streamed through the large windows of the empty History of Magic classroom, illuminating the specs of dust that floated lazily through the air. Mary had told Gwen to meet her here at quarter past in order to practice their assigned defense spells, assuring her that the large classroom was always empty as soon as the weekend came ‘round. Hell, it was never less than half empty during the week as well, but it’s not as if Binns minded. The man had hardly even noticed his own death, so surely absent students, both physically and mentally, were a mere annoyance if anything. But, just to be sure of the fact, Mary saw that she arrived slightly early.
She paced down the rows of empty desks, skimming her fingertips across the desktops with one hand and twirling her wand absentmindedly in the other. Mary could feel anticipation jolting down her spine like volts of electricity, the fine hairs on the nape of her neck pricking upwards. She couldn’t pinpoint why the concept of practicing Defense Against the Dark Arts sent her nerves into overdrive. Well, no. That was a lie. She knew exactly why she hated putting these concepts into practice. Mary hated that they were necessary. She hated that her incompetence with them had landed her a week’s stay in the hospital wing, and she hated that she never had enough conviction behind each spell even when she proved herself capable. Mary exhaled slowly, hopping up onto the professor’s table at the head of the room and swinging her boots back and forth. It was just practice, these were nothing more than routine spells.
Her encouraging inner monologue was broken by the door suddenly swinging open on its hinges, the old oak creaking as it went.