Post by jason on Jul 13, 2013 22:05:48 GMT -6
| [atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 460px; background-image: url(http://i44.tinypic.com/34fb0ns.jpg);-moz-border-radius: 0px 0px 0px 0px; -webkit-border-radius: 0px 0px 0px 0px; border: 4px ridge #7a9aa9, bTable][tr][cs=2] jason christopher deveraux. forty-one. professor. 13-1/3" cedar, dragon heartstring, very flexible. calle strand. | |
[rs=2] | Come in; come in. Class will be over in a moment. Feel free to find an empty seat until these little vagrants clear out. It shouldn't take them long once that bell rings, I assure you. These are all in their sixth year. Not as panicky and skittish as fifth years and not as arrogant and obnoxious as seventh years. Definitely one of my preferred age groups to teach. Ah. While I seem to have momentarily gone deaf, the bell must have rung, for many of my students have already packed up their parchment and quills. Don't forget, my precious headaches, that paragraph on the real world application of today's lecture is due at the beginning of next class, courtesy of Miss Jones and Miss Taylor--who should, at the age of 16, have a basic understanding of a civilized classroom. Surely it is unnecessary for me to remind any of you, yet again, that it is simply not polite to pass notes during my lectures. It is my hope that one of you innocent bystanders who happened to be punished for the acts of the few is disgruntled enough to see to it that such a thing does not happen again. As always, curse no one who deserves it not, and if you must break the rules, be certain that it is not I who catches you. Now then. What can I do for you? I'm afraid I can't hear over the sound of the dismissal bell. What? Well of course they're already gone! I'm not going to hold the brats against their will. Someone might think I'm spoiling them, and we can't have that, now, can we. No, no. It's far better that they run along and get into someone else's hair for a while. I like to believe it's good for my colleagues. Unfortunately, I'm not quite certain they agree with this assertion. In fact, if I'm not vastly mistaken, they're not particularly fond of my eccentrics... Ah, yes. My apologies. You wished for an autograph? Surely you are desiring of more than that. I have not played professional Quidditch in near 5 years. I was only one of the best by stats alone. Any of my teammates were just as good, if not better, than I. Yes, yes. I know we won the World Cup, but it wasn't only my doing. There are three chasers on a pitch. Winning takes a great amount of determination and teamwork, and don't even get me started on heart. Regardless, I'm more than happy to give you an autograph if that is what you desire. You know, some days, I find myself missing it all. The fame, the fortune--though I am quite wise with my gold, the travel, the women...the rush of knowing that every time I kicked off the ground I may never stand upon it again. The life of the athlete is demanding at times, but worth it. I can't remember how many injuries I took, how many bludgers I ate, how many times I flew straight into the goal posts I was attempting to pitch at. Quidditch is the epitome of magic and skill. It is the breath of life in an otherwise cold, dirty, immortal world. I played here, you know. I was a student at Hogwarts for all seven years of school. Ravenclaw House. When I wasn't in the air, I had my nose in a book. My parents believed that an education was more important than anything else. Looking back, I'm glad I had the ability to hold my own council. The things I wished to say to them when I was first contacted by a team recruiter... I had just finished my fifth year. Fantastic scores on my OWLs. They didn't believe Quidditch was in my future and forced me to decline the invitation. Oh, how I wanted to tell them it was cruel and unfair, but in hindsight, they were perfectly right to say no. I finished my last two years of school and went on to play in the World Cup twice. When my skill began to wane, I happily chose retirement and came to work here. I will always have a deep love for the sport, and I will always have a deep love for Hogwarts. Naturally, I teach the first years how to fly. They seem to listen more when the teacher has the experience to know what he's talking about. By extension, I referee all games that go on between the Houses. Oh yes, and I teach History of Magic. The average for the school in this class was a very low A before I came. It has picked up to almost an O. It was simply time for the good Professor Bins to retire. Merlin's beard, I had him as a professor during my days as a student here. His ghost was still teaching when I left the world of professional sports. I convinced him to give it up, that his life's work had been completed. It's something to keep me busy, I suppose. Perhaps I'll even wind up like him. Oh! Look at the time. Dinner will be ready soon. You walked in on my last class of the day. Don't think you need to listen to me moon over the past. Go on. Be off with you. I must go down to the Great Hall. All the staff has to make an appearance, lest the students get suspicious. Can't have that, now. They'd go around thinking they could get away with things... |
moony. twenty. eight. |
