Starter Call from forever ago | @bchemianrhapscdy
Imogen scowled down at the blank piece of parchment in front of her, tapping her quill absently against the desk. A dark spot on the wood showed where she’d been doing this for several minutes. Usually her Defense Against the Dark Arts essays would be half a page long by this point, but the professor had recently begun a unit on dark creatures, a subject Imogen had little interest in. Give her curses, give her wards -- hell, give her a unit on poisons -- but werewolves?
Maybe she could write an essay debunking the rumor that a pack of them lived in the Forbidden Forest... but that would take more research than library books could give her.
Five minutes and a scolding from Madam Pince about marking up the desk later, and Imogen still hadn’t written anything. Finally, she shut the book she’d been skimming with a sigh and leaned around the divider to the next cubicle, where a Hufflepuff from her class, Margo, sat studying.
“Psst,” she whispered, not wanting to risk Madam Pince’s ire a second time that day, “What do you know about werewolves? I’m trying to write that Defense essay, but I haven’t found anything interesting.”
