Magical Fauna and Flora for Dummies [Alvy & Verve]
Mudbloods and halfbreeds everywhere he goes, Julius despaired as he made his way out of one of his, for they were now his, no matter who thought otherwise, greenhouses and away from the dirty blooded little demons he had to teach. Herbolody was a noble art and those little grubby monsters were massacring his darling charges by the dozen with they hasty and clumsy grasps! He had to take refuge somewhere, and that somewhere would be the Forbidden Forest... or at least it would if not for the Headmaster Dippet accosting him and summoning his presence to his office.
Gracefully stomping his way all the way up to the old wizard's office, his light sea green eyes simmering with righteous and unfortunately a bit petulant fury as he tried to calm himself enough to be able to hang on through the dithering fools' no doubt long speech. By Morganna, was that the life he took in exchange for his dark powers? What was he thinking?!
Oh, right, the torture was a little bit too much and the old Grindelwald was starting to get creepy. That's what made him defect to the 'Light Side'...
As he was bid to enter the circular chamber as he ascended the last stone step, he was confronted to the second bane of his existence as of late. Her. The Halfblooded, violent, unladylike do-gooder.
Sandra Willows, arms folded over her chest, waited just inside Headmaster Dippet’s chambers. The old wizard was toying absently with one of the ink-stained quills on his desk while they awaited the arrival of whoever else was advising the new club—Sandra’s brainchild, the Society for the Research, Appreciation, and Cultivation of Magical Flora and Fauna, or SRACMFF for the sake of shortness when writing. She was open to better names, but in lieu of one, the current appellation would have to do.
All of the other major subjects had clubs or societies dedicated to bettering the students’ grasps of the concepts but Sandra had noticed a definite lack of clubs devoted to living beings steeped in magic. There were no outings to the Thestral breeding grounds to study their mating behavior; no detailed reports on the hunting techniques of hippogriffs. It had annoyed her enough that she had insisted on the formation of such an organization, with herself as an academic adviser. Unfortunately, Dippet had suggested the addition of a second adviser to assist with the ‘flora’ portion of the curriculum.
The one wizard Sandra had sincerely hoped would be eaten by an Acromantula stepped suddenly into the office, his silken blonde hair sweeping his collar. She resisted the urge to hex him on principle.
Last edited by Alvynear; 2 Weeks Ago at 12:04 AM.
A faint, nearly controlled aristocratic sneer spread over thin lips as Julius surreptitiously glared at his fellow professor, a dark glower darkening his fair and handsome face, giving further emphasis on the dark circles around his eyes. After a few minutes of silent but heated glaring from the two younger adults, Dippet cleared his throat and explained the reason for their presence in his office, to the growing horror of one Julius Ambrose Rowe.
His furious silence was apparently mistaken for acceptance by the old wizard for the younger soon found himself being patted on one of his board shoulders and left before a closed oaken door with his worst enemy by his employer.
Turning swiftly to the half-blooded witch before he, the blond man clipped a sole word loaded with menace:
Sandra tossed her hair over her shoulder and raised an eyebrow at Rowe’s superior manner. She briefly considered hexing him again, but her better judgment took over—if she hexed him at the Headmaster’s office he would be far too close to help to suffer very much. Pursing her lips, she shifted her weight to her other leg. “I should have guessed you would be the one,” she said in a clipped voice. “Since we’re going to be working together, I hope you can put aside your pettiness in the interest of the students.”
Dippet had gently propelled them out of his office, one wrinkled hand on each of their shoulders, and he shut the door to his office behind them, leaving the pair in the drafty hallway. Sandra rolled her shoulders back. “The first meeting will be later tonight, before dinner. We’ll be meeting out by the Thestral pastures. I assume you would like to gather your materials… So I’ll see you in about a half-hour.”
She left quickly, before she decided to scorch his robes or push him down the steps. His blonde hair was begging to be yanked; she would bet a galleon he would screech if she did.
Sandra jogged down the stairs, her heels clicking as she swung around the corner, headed into the corridor by the Great Hall. The Thestral pasture was actually very close to the Groundskeeper’s shack, where she lived, so she was able to go home to get anything she might forget, which made everything much easier. She stepped out onto the vast green lawn, still sprinkled from an earlier rain storm.