Celestia Eleanor Young is the newest generation of the Pure-blood Young family of Singapore. The Young Clan has the power of a monarchy and the wealth of a first-world country.
Not only does she have to prove herself to her family that she's capable...
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Somehow a Groundskeeper can also become a professor. Hogwarts and its teaching system continues to surprise me. My friends and I, along with our class, all tread through the luscious green forest with massive, heavy books for our class, Care of Magical Creatures, that is now taught by Hagrid. Personally, I have nothing against him.
Draco's trio is at it again, shoving their shoulders into people, tripping over Gryffindors, all the fun stuff. Daphne, Blaise, and I continue our usual routine of whispering and judging nearby students, especially Scabbers. Though, something that I do have to admit is that her hair is less frizzier and wild and is much more neat. So, although we've lost one of our top reasons to keep disliking her, we still have plenty kept in our arsenal.
"Right, you lot. less chattering. Form a group over there. And open your books to page forty-nine," Hagrid instructs.
Draco, who is several people ahead, looks down at his heavy book in his hands and groans. "Exactly how do we do that?"
"Just stroke the spine, of course. Goodness me." Hagrid is a kind-hearted man but anyone could grow impatient of Draco.
I roll my eyes and call out to him, "There's literally an instructions guide on the back cover of the book."
He flips his book over. "Oh."
I snicker and continue watching the ground, careful not to trip over anything. I hold up my own text book and stroke the side, and the book purrs and opens, unlike Longbottom's that is trying to devour him.
"Oh yeah, terribly funny. Really witty," Draco sarcastically responds to something that the golden trio said. "God, this place has gone to the dogs. Wait until my father hears that Dumbledore's got this oaf teaching classes." He then has a tiny stand-off with Potter, resulting in him making fun of him for fearing Dementors.
I frown, not because I'm against him teasing Potter—I could care less—but because for the latter half of the ride here, I fell asleep on Draco's shoulder and no one bothered to wake me up when the Dementors came on the train. Shame, because I would've absolutely loved to see one. I probably would've tried to search for one and try to convince them to wear my designs, and I think that Draco presumed that and that's why he didn't wake me.
Draco and his trio and a few other Slytherins put their pointy hoods over their heads and wiggle their fingers, making "ghosty" sounds. Daphne, Blaise, and I bite back laughs, thinking that it's ridiculous. Our grins instantly fade when we notice Pratty trying to join in. This little slug.
Hagrid clears his throat and in a sing-songy voice, he presents his creature: a giant pigeon. "Isn't he beautiful?"
"Indeed, he is," I comment loudly. Hagrid must've missed the sarcasm in my voice because he sends a brief grin at me.
