Harry, Ron, and Hermione sat down in Defense Against the Dark Arts, curious to see what Professor Inkwood would be like.
The door to the Professor’s office opened slowly and creakily. Professor Inkwood appeared, dressed in black robes, similar to Snape’s. Her hair was short and brown, her blue eyes hid behind her large rounded spectacles.
She looked at the class sinisterly. Please don’t be like Umbridge or Snape. Harry begged.
SLAM!
Professor Inkwood had slammed her hand onto her desk. Everyone in the room jumped.
“Now that I have your attention,” Her voice was deep and sounded almost threatening. “We can start the lesson.” She pushed her glasses up her nose, then turned to Harry.
She did not say anything, she just stared for a moment, then turned around.
Hermione raised her hand. “Yes, Ms. Granger?” Said Professor Inkwood.
Several people gasped.
“How did she do that?” Whispered Ron.
Harry shrugged, not taking his eyes off her.
“Are we going to be using our wands?” Asked Hermione.
“Not sure yet.” She replied, turning back around.
“Wait, you mean to tell me you have no—”
“Will I be using my wand? Yes. Will you? Maybe. Will he?” She pointed to Harry. “No.”
“WHAT?!” Ron stood up.
“Mr. Weasley—“
“How do you know my name?” Ron interrupted.
“Sit down.”
“You didn’t answer my—“
“Who’s teaching this class, you or I? Sit.”
Ron sat. Hermione raised her hand again. Professor Inkwood nodded.
“Why can’t Harry use his wand?” She asked.
Professor Inkwood leaned on her desk and snorted.
“I was joking!” Professor Inkwood’s voice changed drastically. It was higher and cheery sounding. “Goodness, children these days take everything so literally…”
Everyone was confused.
Draco raised his hand. “Yes, Mr. Malfoy.” Still in her higher voice.
“Are you going to teach or are we just going to sit here while you play pretend?” He said.
A couple Slytherins laughed. Professor Inkwood sighed.
“I always tried to be nice to Slytherins, but they just don’t want to cooperate,” She straightened up. “Now, open your textbooks to page 17.”
Harry did so. But when he opened the book, there was nothing there.
“Where are the pages?” Exclaimed Hermione.
“No books. Just wands.” Professor Inkwood winked at Harry.
After Defense Against the Dark Arts, Harry, Ron, and Hermione were all cooped up in Gryffindor common room, doing homework.
“…And then she winked at me.” Said Harry.
“Why, though?” Said Hermione, looking up her book.
“How did she know our names?” Asked Ron. “I mean, Malfoy was probably the easier one, but Hermione and me?” He exhales, sinking into his chair.
“She knows a lot more than we think.” Said Hermione, looking back down.
Harry thought about Professor Inkwood a lot that night. It’s like she knew them. How was that possible? And what was with her being all sinister then becoming all fun and happy? She was a strange women, and Harry was going to figure her out.
Back in the Defense Against the Dark Arts class room, Professor Inkwood was looking out her office window. The moon was very bright, making it look like her eyes were sparkling.
On her desk was a letter addressed to Clementine I. Inkwood, which read:
Dear Ms. Inkwood,
I know you are not from here, but you seem to have knowledge that could be useful here at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. I hope you will think about the position as our new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher.
- Albus Dumbledore
Professor Inkwood sighed.
“I shouldn’t have said their names.” She said quietly to herself, not taking her eyes off the moon.
She was a strange women indeed, but no one would ever know her truly, would they?
To Be Continued…
The door to the Professor’s office opened slowly and creakily. Professor Inkwood appeared, dressed in black robes, similar to Snape’s. Her hair was short and brown, her blue eyes hid behind her large rounded spectacles.
She looked at the class sinisterly. Please don’t be like Umbridge or Snape. Harry begged.
SLAM!
Professor Inkwood had slammed her hand onto her desk. Everyone in the room jumped.
“Now that I have your attention,” Her voice was deep and sounded almost threatening. “We can start the lesson.” She pushed her glasses up her nose, then turned to Harry.
She did not say anything, she just stared for a moment, then turned around.
Hermione raised her hand. “Yes, Ms. Granger?” Said Professor Inkwood.
Several people gasped.
“How did she do that?” Whispered Ron.
Harry shrugged, not taking his eyes off her.
“Are we going to be using our wands?” Asked Hermione.
“Not sure yet.” She replied, turning back around.
“Wait, you mean to tell me you have no—”
“Will I be using my wand? Yes. Will you? Maybe. Will he?” She pointed to Harry. “No.”
“WHAT?!” Ron stood up.
“Mr. Weasley—“
“How do you know my name?” Ron interrupted.
“Sit down.”
“You didn’t answer my—“
“Who’s teaching this class, you or I? Sit.”
Ron sat. Hermione raised her hand again. Professor Inkwood nodded.
“Why can’t Harry use his wand?” She asked.
Professor Inkwood leaned on her desk and snorted.
“I was joking!” Professor Inkwood’s voice changed drastically. It was higher and cheery sounding. “Goodness, children these days take everything so literally…”
Everyone was confused.
Draco raised his hand. “Yes, Mr. Malfoy.” Still in her higher voice.
“Are you going to teach or are we just going to sit here while you play pretend?” He said.
A couple Slytherins laughed. Professor Inkwood sighed.
“I always tried to be nice to Slytherins, but they just don’t want to cooperate,” She straightened up. “Now, open your textbooks to page 17.”
Harry did so. But when he opened the book, there was nothing there.
“Where are the pages?” Exclaimed Hermione.
“No books. Just wands.” Professor Inkwood winked at Harry.
After Defense Against the Dark Arts, Harry, Ron, and Hermione were all cooped up in Gryffindor common room, doing homework.
“…And then she winked at me.” Said Harry.
“Why, though?” Said Hermione, looking up her book.
“How did she know our names?” Asked Ron. “I mean, Malfoy was probably the easier one, but Hermione and me?” He exhales, sinking into his chair.
“She knows a lot more than we think.” Said Hermione, looking back down.
Harry thought about Professor Inkwood a lot that night. It’s like she knew them. How was that possible? And what was with her being all sinister then becoming all fun and happy? She was a strange women, and Harry was going to figure her out.
Back in the Defense Against the Dark Arts class room, Professor Inkwood was looking out her office window. The moon was very bright, making it look like her eyes were sparkling.
On her desk was a letter addressed to Clementine I. Inkwood, which read:
Dear Ms. Inkwood,
I know you are not from here, but you seem to have knowledge that could be useful here at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. I hope you will think about the position as our new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher.
- Albus Dumbledore
Professor Inkwood sighed.
“I shouldn’t have said their names.” She said quietly to herself, not taking her eyes off the moon.
She was a strange women indeed, but no one would ever know her truly, would they?
To Be Continued…
