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Old 01-18-2021, 10:33 PM   #20 (permalink)
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Join Date: Feb 2016
Location: Storybrooke
Posts: 10,064

Hogwarts RPG Name:
Norman A. Carton

Hogwarts RPG Name:
Desiree Y. Marchand
Second Year

Ministry RPG Name:
Gaston A.L. Marchand
Minister's Office

Ministry RPG Name:
Normandie A. Carton
Law Enforcement
1/2 of Roston ~ Rhibear ~ Madam Solo ~ Accio Jedi ~ Gryffinclaw ~ Just a doll

Heath’s heart sank with every step he took toward the muggle studies classroom. Although he found Professor Schmoe’s teaching methods a bit… weird at times, he had genuinely enjoyed his lessons up until this term because it was clear that Schmoe cared about the subject. Now the class was just a bitter reminder of a world he couldn’t go back to. With every lesson, the anger at Rosier’s brand of bigotry, the fear that that bigotry would one day be directed at him as a halfblood, the self-doubt that maybe his background really did make him inferior, grew. He felt like a blaster about to go off at any moment!

Trying to push through thoughts out of his mind, he trudged into the classroom to find Professor Schmoe at the front of the room. The man looked every bit as terrible as Heath felt! His heart went out to him. Whatever he felt about the new curriculum, he didn’t blame Professor Schmoe for it. “Good afternoon, Professor Schmoe,” he greeted with a polite nod and the faintest hint of a smile. It would have been more, but he worried that if he smiled too much or looked at the professor too sympathetically, he’d be hexed by the hooded goons who he expected to make an appearance any time.

As usual, he beelined for the back of the room. Familiar habits and familiar people were a source of comfort now that his world had gone completely mad. He almost took a seat beside Claudine but stopped himself just in time, taking the one that neighbored her diagonally (one row ahead and one seat to the right). Close enough to feel normal but hopefully not close enough to draw any hoods’ attention. He only dared risk a polite nod in greeting as he sat down, neatly arranging his supplies in font of him.
Old voices I had thought long since dead whisper of another life I might have led

If I could take that second chance, If I could make my life anew, If only dreams came true...
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