After a stress-free lunchtime, thanks to the missing presences of Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle, Blake was itching with anticipation. The next class was Defence Against the Dark Arts, with Professor Quirrell. So far, Blake's observations of the man weren't the best, especially for a teacher of Defence Against the Dark Arts - in fact, just this lunchtime, Blake had seen the turban-wearing man be scared out of his mind by Peeves the poltergeist, which was less than reassuring.
However, Blake wasn't deterred - given the practical nature of the subject itself, it was sure to be fun. And this will be the subject I need to be the best at, from the looks the older years were giving me.
"H-hello, ev-everyone. M-my name is Prof- Professor Q- Quirell."
Unfortunately for the stuttering professor, no one paid much attention to his introduction, and the class continued to speak over him in their groups. The Professor made many more attempts at gaining control, but to no avail, until suddenly - BANG!
Everyone paused and looked for the source of the sound, and groaned.
"Professor Quirrell is trying to speak!"
If it wasn't Malfoy, Blake might've laughed at the obvious mockery.
"T- Thank you, Mr Malfoy. Now, class, my name is P-Professor Q-Quirrell, and I'll be teaching you Defence Against the D-Dark A-Arts." At the words 'Dark Arts', the teacher's stutter became much worse than normal. Does he have some type of trauma from the Dark Arts? Did he fight the Death Eaters?
The murmurs of the class group, but Quirrell was quick to establish at least some type of authority.
"H-Here is your seating plan, class."
The names were displayed just like in other classes, and Blake scanned for his own name.
RENSHAW ZABINI
Relieved, Blake went to his seat, right at the front of the class, next to Zabini, who seemed not to care about sitting next to Blake, but the latter paid no attention to it. Before sitting down, he took a quick scan of the room, and almost laughed out loud - Malfoy and Greengrass had been sat together, and the blonde boy was already trying to talk to her - and failing greatly at that, much to Blake and the rest of the group's glee. Blake even thought he detected a flicker of disgust in the blonde girl's face, and he rejoiced even more. I really hate that guy.
Zabini and Blake started talking about some spells that they could and should learn for defence against any further attempts by Malfoy and his friends, or potentially even older years.
Meanwhile, Quirrell still hadn't begun the lesson, as Harry and Blake weren't the only ones talking - but with what seemed like extraordinarily strenuous effort, he finally began to speak, albeit stuttering, and not explaining concepts and spells very well, yapping about some vampire in some random place. Zabini and Blake exchanged a lot. This lesson was far different from what either of them had expected.
"Let's try to learn it ourselves," Blake suggested, and Zabini agreed instantly. The pair flicked through their textbook, discussing what spell to learn. As they were discussing Expelliarmus and Blake's use of it during his duel with Malfoy, however, the Professor interrupted them.
"M-Mr Renshaw, p-" Suddenly, Quirrell's face contorted, and his face displayed something Blake hadn't expected to see, especially from a Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher (even if he was a bit of a chicken) - fear. Genuine fear. The kind of fear people only show when they fear for their lives. The Professor promptly ran out of the classroom, clutching at his turban. The class was silent for a moment, before erupting into a mixture of quiet and loud rumours.
One of those aforementioned rumours, unsurprisingly, was from Malfoy.
"Quirrell probably just couldn't stand the stench of Renshaw's mudblood!" he said loudly, causing his cronies to laugh and jeer, but Blake was quick to retort.
"Pack it in, Malfoy. I beat your arse in front of everyone already - do you want me to do it again?"
Tracey made no effort to restrain their laughter at Malfoy's red face, and even Charlotte couldn't help but let out a giggle. Blake also noticed that the rest of Malfoy's was also quickly shut up. What a prat, Blake thought, watching Malfoy. Knows he can't win with wands or words. Stay shut up like that, Malfoy, if you know what's good for you.
Quirrell didn't return that lesson, much to the glee of the class, who simply stayed put in the classroom and spoke with their friends until the end of the lesson.
Zabini and Blake continued their conversation, speaking as if nothing had happened, but they were both tense - why had Quirrell ran out so suddenly? And why was it right after he'd spoken to them for the first time?
After the lesson ended, Blake was surprised to see Harry and Ron walking through the corridors. Uh oh.
Surprisingly, however, Harry merely nodded, with a small smile on his face, at Blake - a respectful, downwards nod. Blake calmly returned the gesture with a smile too, and that was the end of the short interaction, but the muggleborn boy was glad - he liked Harry, after all, and it was a good thing they were still on somewhat decent terms. The duel with Malfoy definitely helped.
Zabini looked at Blake oddly.
"Didn't know you were friends with Potter."
Blake shrugged in response. "We met before Hogwarts Express. He's nice."
"Are you friends with Weasley too?" This time, Blake picked up on the smallest amount of distaste in Zabini's voice.
"Not at all," Blake said, laughing slightly.
"Thank Merlin."
"If you want, I can introduce you?"
As Blake dodged a stinging hex Zabini haphazardly sent at him, laughing he couldn't help but think that so far - it's not going that bad, is it?
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