Back to the Dungeon

The day began chilly bit it was supposed to warm up. It was going to be a good day.

They walked to their first class. The first hour of school in the morning with McGonagall. Alright.

The bell rings and they file out of the door one by one. Just peachy. They walk through like everyday. They take the same way everyday. Down the steps into a twenty degree temperature drop, just the same everyday.

Into the room they enter. It's dark, depressing. The blinds steal the only brightness in the room. The wood tables and desks are dark brown, almost black. The stench is musty and old. A smell that would remind you of your grandmother's closet.

It is here in this underground room that normal life ends and nocturnal beings wander and roam freely. In the muggle world, they would think this a place to be snatched into a dark corner and mugged. Oh, the irony in such creatures. Gullible, the whole lot of them.

So they settle in their seats and talk quietly. Smiles and laughter are the only cheerful things in the room. It's amazing the power of friends , to make you forget your surroundings and carry on about anything and everything.

The door slams and you hear the swooshing of robes and the steady padding of feet come to the front of the room. He turns on his heel quickly. His eyes drop as he scans for anything out of place, or anyone for that matter.

Disappointed at finding everyone sitting in their correct seats, hands in front of them, looking forward intently.

If you could see just their eyes you could see who the people were. Eyes of nervousness, jumpy glances, weary of slipping up once and facing a terrible consequence.

Eyes of confidence, assured of themselves, positive. Knowing they'll do fine, muttering under their breath words of support.

Eyes of over confidence and exceeding arrogance. Teacher's pets, no doubt. It's the only reason they pass.

Eyes of annoyance. Bored and not really caring. Waiting to leave and praying for him to shut up.

And so class begins. The teacher snarls rather than talks. His words drone on in a bored tone, as if he has other and better things to do. As if these students were a waste of his time.

Half of the students feel the same. Feel this class is a waste of their time. Their looks match his tone.

The other half feel that the first half are a waste of their teacher's precious time.

The first half sits slumped. Mouth a gap, eyes drooping. Trying everything in their power to stay awake. Those who aren't half asleep are plotting. A mysterious death of their teacher or how to get out of the class.

They sit and tap their finger tips together plotting. Praying he chokes on his food or falls to his death.

Or sneaking out of this cold place. Wasn't Hell supposed to be hot? A blaze? A humongous fire pit? It is underground though. That and the teacher are the only thing that make it qualified for anything close to Hell.

Sometimes they like to think of him with horns sprouting out of his head. His train of his robes a tail. His wand a miniature pitch-fork. Strutting through his cave, around stalagmites.

You make faces behind his back and suck your tongue back in your mouth when he turns around, casting a suspicious glance about the room.

He tells you today there's a quiz, smiling to himself, knowing you'll fail. You pass with flying colors in a black and white TV. You hand him the quiz smiling just as smug as he had only a five minutes ago. You feel like laughing in his face to let him know you're up to every challenge he gives you. During the test you pause for half a minute, just to give him the slightest amount of satisfaction. Just so you can rub it in his face in a snap.

Folding your arms across your chest, you look around the room. Your friends have accomplished just the same as you have. When you talk quietly, you give high fives to your friends. It's nice to know you all agree on the same things. That you totally despise your teacher and hope e croaks.

You and your friends exchange your latest plots and plans. One day, one day when he won't expect a single thing. Bam! He'll get it good.

The bell rings and you all leave. Climb up the steps and enter the real world once again. Look outside and you see vegetation, life, sun. Back to the world you know.

As for the class where nocturnes roam, tomorrow is another day. Another day back to the dungeon.