Year One: The Ill Professor

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    A week had passed and Brody O'Connor was back to good health once again to the delight of his classmates. After suffering a couple fractured ribs, he shared that he had to drink plenty of potions a day, just like the potion Daisy had, and he was fixed in a jiff. Just to prove it, he cartwheeled down the Gryffindor corridor when the first years were heading for breakfast. He had also pledged to never step foot next to the Whomping Willow ever again, as did every first year, and gained a fresh pink scar running down his neck to remind him of his promise.

It still didn't stop there. Brody's top left tooth had been noticeably chipped for everyone to see.

"Can Madam Pomfrey not grow your tooth back?" Benjamin questioned on the first years travels to their Defence class.

Brody sighed. "Nope, I'm not a dentist, she says, and then fixed my bones... just gotta stay like this." He didn't sound too sad about it which was surprising, more accepting. Daisy however would have refused to leave her dormitory.

"I think it's cute." Heather stated out of the blue, but seeing her face it seemed like she hadn't actually meant to. She quickly closed her mouth and Daisy watched her ears and cheeks flush red. Bao was snickering behind her friends back.

Brody let out an airy laugh. "Oh- thanks." Before averting his eyes downward towards the ground.

Daisy felt a cringed smile creeping up onto her face, and she turned to Heather to nudge her ribs with her elbow. Heather insisted on keeping her attention on the end of the hall, her rosy red cheeks telling the girls all they needed to know.

The spat, had passed. Daisy didn't want to lose a friend, she had only just got them! And for Heather, she seemed to have forgotten it.

"Oh look we're here!" David announced loudly, breaking the silence that was beginning to feel a little awkward.

Defence against the dark arts was Daisy's next class with her fellow Gryffindors, and she was ecstatic to be attending another one of Professor Duras' classes. They were her favourite classes to attend, and she was hoping they would be doing something fun again- But of course they were- Professor Duras' classes were the best!

She skipped beside Bao and Heather who had turned to discussing their previous transfiguration lesson where the learned how to repair broken items. Heather couldn't wait to get back up to their dormitory to fix her reading glasses that David had dropped after knocking them off her face on evening.

Walking in, Daisy's heart sank looking around the room to see no Professor Duras in sight. He would always be waiting at the front of his class for them with the same toothy grin that stretched the pink scars on his cheeks.

Instead, Daisy saw the school headmaster lounging in the Professor's chair.

All of the first years boys whined. It wasn't that they disliked Dumbledore... they just would much rather have their proper defence teacher back. "Sir, where's Professor Duras?" David Martinéz raised his hand. Dumbledore looked at him through his half moon glasses.

"Your Professor has taken ill unfortunately, and I will be filling in for him until he's back to full health." The first years sulked. It just wouldn't be the same without their blue haired Professor.

Dumbledore scanned the first with a soft smile of sympathy, seeing each and every one of their sulking faces. "Your Professor will be quite alright, he's having a long rest today and he'll be back to you tomorrow." But it didn't make not having him today better.

Collectively, all of the first years had shared the same thought of 'I hope he's back soon.' Praying that their beloved Professor was alright and hadn't taken seriously ill. Without him, the defence against the dark arts classroom consumed them as Daisy noticed how dark the walls were, how the windows didn't let much light in the room, and how the foe glass was back to staring at the classroom, daring someone to look into it.

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