Closed A Good Essay, Well-Done

[Seraphiel Fletcher]

Sera hadn't understood the point of history at primary school, and he still didn't understand it now that the historical figures he had to study were magical. Why did it matter what witches and wizards did five-hundred years ago? There were far too many exciting things happening in the present to waste brainpower on the past. He sighed, leafing mindlessly through the pages of an old textbook. Somewhere in here, supposedly, there was a paragraph or two on the Salem witch trials, but as he'd searched cover to cover twice already without finding them, he was beginning to think the librarian was pulling a fast one.

As he reached the end for a third time, the Ravenclaw girl who had been writing opposite him suddenly stood up and left the room. She obviously intended to come back, because she had left all of her things on the table, including, Sera noted with a pang of joy, her homework. He chewed his lip. Ravenclaw didn't have history this term, so she couldn't have been working on a Salem trials essay. Still, he'd be taking some of her classes next semester. It couldn't hurt to have a little read...

Sera's arm froze half-way across the table. He watched in horror as a puddle spread from his upset goblet and began to saturate the girl's parchment. At once the ink began to bloom; word by word, line by line, her writing became illegible. Nearly the entire first paragraph was lost by the time Sera thought to pick up the paper. Wet. Wet. Wet. Fire. Yes, he could dry it on the fire. And it wouldn't have been a terrible idea, except for the fact he decided to pinch it from a single, sodden corner. He had been holding it over the fire for all but six seconds when the corner disintegrated and the parchment, three-quarters of which had still been perfectly fine, fell straight into the flames. Oh, no. Oh no no no no no. He grabbed the fire poker from its stand, but in attempting to spear the parchment with it only succeeded in pushing it further between the burning coals.

 

[Grace Merriwick]

Grace had woken up on the wrong side of bed that morning. She hadn't slept, as she had kept tossing and turning the whole night, which was a new thing for her. It didn't usually happen to her. But with everything that had been going on, especially the letter her mother had sent her, she just felt stressed. The fact that exams were really soon too wasn't helping either. She was overwhelmed enough as it was. For that reason, Grace was spending all of her free time outside of class studying. Most of the time she was in the library, but there were too many people there that day it was beginning to feel claustrophobic so the girl had decided to switch it up a bit and go to the student lounge for a change.

Once she had found a comfy seat, not one that was so cozy that she would fall asleep accidentally but one where she could finish up and then revise her homework for the next day, she got to work. She took out the homework she was currently working on, as well as her quill, and placed her notebook on the table in front of her so she could refer to it. It wasn't long before she stifled a yawn and decided she needed a short break to recharge. Man, she really wished she had gotten a full night's sleep. Momentarily distracted from said lack of sleep, Grace didn't even look to see if there was anyone around who could look after her stuff, after all she highly doubted anyone there wanted to steal a first year's homework. She stood up, stretched, and went on a trip to the bathroom, figuring she could use the short walk.

It didn't take her long, however, and she came back to the lounge in no time. Except, upon returning to the table she'd been sitting at, she noticed something was wrong. Then, she realised why. Her homework was no longer on the table, but instead in the hands of a boy. Her hands flew to her mouth as she gasped loudly at the sight in front of her, absolutely mortified. Was that...her homework...in the FIRE?! "What on earth," she nearly shouted, "do you think you're doing?!" Grace gestured to her homework. She wanted to burst into tears but she willed herself not to, because then that would make her appear weak and she was anything but that. But she was tired. This boy was obviously ruining all of her hard work, and was probably trying to sabotage her education on purpose! "What makes you think you can touch other people's stuff?" she glared at him. She snatched her homework, or what was left of it, from the boy. "I want an explanation. Now." She pouted and folded her arms, waiting impatiently for his answer. Surely there was no way he could excuse his behaviour. It was all ruined.​

 

[Seraphiel Fletcher]

Sera had just managed to rescue the charred homework by dint of plunging his bare hand into the fire when the sudden re-appearance of its owner nearly caused him to drop it straight back in. Oh, he was in big trouble now. Who would believe he'd been trying to save her homework? And even if he could make a convincing case for himself, how would he explain why it had got wet in the first place? The truth was no less mortifying than admitting he'd thrown it in the fire for fun.

"OK," he said, holding up his hands. The fact they were literally red would probably not help his defence, but he had to try. "I know what it looks like. But I swear... there was a really big gust of wind..."