Celestial | Sirius Black Love Story

Classes

I ran down the hallway, holding my skirt down to prevent it from flying up which earned me a couple of whistles from people walking the opposite way, making my face burn.

I had left the dormitory in good time to get to my class, but when I opened the door to what I thought would be my arithmancy class, I saw a class full of first years which were now all staring at me, before I realised I had been on the wrong floor.

I knocked three times on the door of what I dearly hoped was the correct classroom and pushed it opened. I was relieved to see familiar faces looking up at me, but the feeling of relief quickly vanished when I realised that I had just met up to my first class of the year late, gasping for air, completely red in the face, with damp hair.

"Sorry I'm late, professor." I managed to get out, straightening my shirt and taking deep breaths.

"Miss Heatherstead, I assume?" The teacher, a middle aged man with brown hair and very annoyed looking eyes asked me.

"That's right, professor."

"Sit."

I felt my face contort into a sarcastic expression at his rudeness, and quickly turned around so as not to annoy him further and moved to the back of the classroom to the only empty seat, which happened to be beside Remus. There were no other Gryffindors in the class. When I saw someone wearing a Slytherin tie, I thought of what the sorting hat had told me yesterday.

As I sat down and hurriedly took out my books and quills, Remus snorted with laughter and I kicked him under the desk. "Shut up, you." I whispered quietly.

"Hey, show some respect, yeah?" He whispered back, "I saved you a seat, you should be grateful."

"Oh thank you so very much, dear Remus" I whispered sarcastically.

"Late to my class, and disruptive once you arrive, Miss Heatherstead?"

I looked up at the man at the front of the classroom. "Sorry, professor, it won't happen again."

"Somehow, I doubt that," He almost snarled, his lip curling.

He then told us to open our books to page 5, read til page 12 and then answer the questions on the board.

I exchanged a look of confusion with Remus and once a small amount of chatter had erupted in the classroom, I asked him, "Is he always this angry?"

"Yeah," He answered, "But I don't think he likes you much."

"I kind of got that feeling." I replied. I quickly read through the text, then answered the questions. I had learnt this before, so I worked through it quite quickly, and then after waiting for ten minutes but realising that some people were still reading, I hesitantly put my hand up.

"Yes, Miss Heatherstead?" The teacher asked monotonously.

"I'm finished, sir."

"Finished?"

"Yes, I've answered all the questions."

"I know what it means to be finished, thank you very much," He said irritably, walking over to my desk and peering over my answers. He then read through it again, as if looking for mistakes. "A mistake." He said, pointing to one of my calculations.

Not seeing what I had done wrong, I asked, "What's wrong with it, professor?"

"You've used the wrong formula. You're supposed to use the Vendiger formula."

Wrong. I thought.

"Sir," I said, trying to sound more confused than angry, "I thought the Vendiger formula was meant for predicting the probability of the event occurring, not the amount of times it is likely to occur."