(no subject)
WHEN: 'Alive Without Breath, Cold As Death'; Tuesday, January 18th, 2009; 6:01 PM
WHO: Illiad and Peteaaaaah!
WHERE: Library
WHAT; Tutoriiiing
Six o'clock sharp. If you are late, I will take it up with Professor McGonagall.
At least, that was what the note he'd sent had said. Not that it mattered. This was a Gryffindor he was talking about. No doubt in the Forbbidden Forest, trying to find a dragon and invite it for tea. Or maybe sniffing his own butt or something. Ugh. Gryffindors. If Paris could see him now...
He scowled and twirled his quill. He'd already dipped it in ink to get started on the boy's notes. But the ink was drying fast. He'd have to re-dip it, and then the dried ink would get all crusty on the edge and rub off when he was writing and that would just be a mess.
He scowled.
There were so many other things he could be doing right now than tutoring some hyperactive, quixotic, ridiculous spawn of the Lions. He didn't even know what subject this... thing... needed help in.
He sat back in his chair and counted to ten in his mind.
He counted backwards from ten.
He waited.