Sam Prince
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- OOC First Name
- Louise
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- Black Walnut/ Maple Wand 12 3/4" Essence of Silver Thistle
It was a Thursday afternoon and Sam was returning from a Herbology class. Those classes were becoming his least favourite classes on his timetable. Fifth year wasn't exactly a walk in the park and finding new hatred for more subjects wasn't exactly something you wanted. But it wasn't like Sam wanted to be an Auror or a Healer or anything that needed great NEWT and OWL results. Sam merely wanted to pass them to concentrate on his flying. He had made the Hufflepuff Quidditch team again, he was a member on it since his second year so that would definitely look good when he tried out for a professional squad. Making the Quidditch team every year was what getting O's meant to most other students in their exams.
However, this afternoon Sam was in a rotten mood and he knew the only way of getting out of this mood was to clear his thoughts completely. Being in a corridor full of boisterous students wasn't helping and so with subtle movement Sam slipped into an empty classroom on the second floor. Sam closed the door behind him slowly and with his hand still on the doorknob he stared around at the large empty room. The sunlight poured in through the large windows at the top of the classroom, illuminating the cobwebs which laced the ceiling, and the dust that filled the air. His coral blue eyes scanned the rest of the room as he walked up the center aisle, his rough hands brushing past the edge of the desks as he did so. Sam got to the professors desk to find piles of faded damaged parchment. He shrugged his bag off his shoulders and let it fall to the floor.
He spread out a parchment pile with his fingers and the parchment spread individually on the desk. A lot of the content was assignments, Sam lost attention in them immediately after that. He brushed them away as he hopped over the desk to sit on the teachers seat. With his hands flat out in front of him, the almost-sixteen-year-old gazed at the large room facing him. Man, hate to be a professor he thought to himself, imagining dozens of students bored and tired faces staring up at him as he gave a lecture. It was actually challenging to just imagine himself giving a lecture. Teaching was definitely not for him and Sam knew that ever since he first rode a broom.
However, this afternoon Sam was in a rotten mood and he knew the only way of getting out of this mood was to clear his thoughts completely. Being in a corridor full of boisterous students wasn't helping and so with subtle movement Sam slipped into an empty classroom on the second floor. Sam closed the door behind him slowly and with his hand still on the doorknob he stared around at the large empty room. The sunlight poured in through the large windows at the top of the classroom, illuminating the cobwebs which laced the ceiling, and the dust that filled the air. His coral blue eyes scanned the rest of the room as he walked up the center aisle, his rough hands brushing past the edge of the desks as he did so. Sam got to the professors desk to find piles of faded damaged parchment. He shrugged his bag off his shoulders and let it fall to the floor.
He spread out a parchment pile with his fingers and the parchment spread individually on the desk. A lot of the content was assignments, Sam lost attention in them immediately after that. He brushed them away as he hopped over the desk to sit on the teachers seat. With his hands flat out in front of him, the almost-sixteen-year-old gazed at the large room facing him. Man, hate to be a professor he thought to himself, imagining dozens of students bored and tired faces staring up at him as he gave a lecture. It was actually challenging to just imagine himself giving a lecture. Teaching was definitely not for him and Sam knew that ever since he first rode a broom.