Closed Grovelling

Arvel Ayers

Passive | St Mungo's Cleaner
Messages
723
OOC First Name
Claire
Blood Status
Half Blood
Relationship Status
Single
Sexual Orientation
Bisexual
Age
11/2033 (26)
Arvel felt sick. Physically sick. He stood outside the door to Professor Styx's study, resisting every impulse to turn around and walk back the way he'd come. Sure, he'd be closing the door on his chances of becoming an Auror, but at least he wouldn't have to grovel to the strictest, scariest professor in the castle. And what if he said no? Actions - or in Arvel's case, a lack of action - had consequences, and Professor Styx wouldn't have been unreasonable to turn him away. But he had to try. He had to try if there was only a one percent chance of success. Because one percent was still better than zero. He glanced around to make sure nobody was watching and knocked quickly on the door.
 
It was the start of the year, and Professor Styx already had his hands full. The quieter years were enjoyable, calm, which only made him believe that it was the calm before the storm. After looking over the first years' homework, he heard a knock on his door. Kalif waved his hand and the door opened to reveal a seventh year, Hufflepuff Prefect. "What do you want, Ayers?" inquired the Slytherin Head of House with a raised eyebrow.
 
Arvel swallowed. Professor Styx was always a lot more menacing up close. And he was menacing from a distance. He stepped into the study and closed the door behind him. His palms were sweating. "I-" What exactly did Arvel want? "I want to be in your class. I was wondering if you'd let me back in. Please," he added.
 
Of course, a seventh year wanted to be in his class that failed to get the minimum grade needed. "Why should I allow that? Your grades have slipped, after all." Professor Styx leaned back in his chair, curious as to what the excuses would be.
 
Arvel squirmed, searching for something to focus on other than Professor Styx's face. "I know, I've seen them," he said. He wasn't going to try to deny that his grades last year had been abysmal. He hadn't even tried. "If you give me another chance... I'll try harder. I can catch up." He wondered if Professor Styx was enjoying this as much as he was hating it. "I'm clever. I'll prove it. Test me, ask me anything."
 
Professor Styx narrowed his eyes slightly as Ayers said that he had seen them. The door slammed close behind him as the professor felt that the noise should lessen his courage just a hair. "Considering your lack of participation from the previous year, I already know that you are well behind and wouldn't be able to answer anything I inquire from the previous term, nor would you be able to do nonverbal magic as proficiently as your peers that have tried. Are you really going to succeed in my class without that knowledge and mastery? This course demands the best, and you have failed to reach the expectation, Ayers."
 
Arvel started hard, whipping his head around to see who had come in behind him. But there was nobody there. It dawned on him, slowly, that Professor Styx had slammed the door purposely to scare him. He fixed his gaze on the desk in front of him and swallowed back the lump of stone in his throat. "I got an EE every year from first year to fifth," he pointed out, just in case Professor Styx had forgotten.
 
"Yet, when it came to the more advanced subject, you dropped to a P," reminded Professor Styx, still unfazed by the boy's efforts to persuade him. He had a point, so Professor Styx already made his decision, but he decided to see how far the boy would go.
 
Arvel's forehead prickled. He had already exhausted his list of reasons why Professor Styx ought to let him back, and they seemed no closer to an agreement. He wondered whether to tell him he hadn't even tried. Somehow, he couldn't see it sitting well, even if he promised to try harder this year. But he didn't have any other excuse, and he was an awful liar. "I was having... problems," he said, which sounded a lot more embarrassing than he'd intended. "Please." He really, really didn't want to beg, but he could feel his dreams slipping fast and far out of reach. "I can do better. Please."
 
Professor Styx narrowed his eyes as Arvel stopped with his excuses, and admitted that he was having problems. "That is enough out of you, Ayers." The door to the office opened, beckoning the seventh year to leave. "See you in class on Saturday." Professor Styx smirked subtly, having enjoyed breaking the student down just a bit. It was enjoyable.
 
For a horrible second, Arvel thought Professor Styx was turning him away. Visions of working in the back room of a post office flashed through his mind before he realised what the professor had actually said. Still Arvel hesitated on the spot, wondering if he'd misunderstood. Then he decided he'd rather take his chances than question it and turned and left without a word.
 

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