It was over. Thank Merlin.
As a rule, Cassian didn't dislike classes. He enjoyed opportunities to learn, varied as they tended to be, and enjoyed even more being able to put a lot of that knowledge to good use. He wasn't the sort of student to watch the clock until it was over or the sort to want things rushed along. This class? This class was best pushed out of his mind and forgotten the moment it had been called to an end.
Cass didn't need an interpreter to know that he was one of the students the professor had been speaking about. The boy hadn't enjoyed the lesson; he'd cast a few shields and had to run laps. At the end, he cast more shields--the simple sort he likely had no use for--then they were given leave to go.
It was all the Ravenclaw had wanted from the moment he'd entered this odd gymnasium of sorts.
The physical activity was behind him now, though, and he had no intention of dwelling any longer. Like many of his classmates, he grabbed his things and made for the exit. His stomach growled as he went. Cassian found himself regretting that it wasn't potions next. At least then, he could've made a speedy detour to the kitchen for a quick snack. The transfiguration classroom was in the exact opposite direction, and he didn't think his head of house would appreciate his tardiness.
He would have to suffer, it seemed.
As the boy exited the room, he tried to spot Rosie, hoping they could walk to their next class together. If he were really lucky, she'd have some of those pastries she sometimes made, then he wouldn't have to starve while learning complicated magic.
That was never a winning combination.
As a rule, Cassian didn't dislike classes. He enjoyed opportunities to learn, varied as they tended to be, and enjoyed even more being able to put a lot of that knowledge to good use. He wasn't the sort of student to watch the clock until it was over or the sort to want things rushed along. This class? This class was best pushed out of his mind and forgotten the moment it had been called to an end.
Cass didn't need an interpreter to know that he was one of the students the professor had been speaking about. The boy hadn't enjoyed the lesson; he'd cast a few shields and had to run laps. At the end, he cast more shields--the simple sort he likely had no use for--then they were given leave to go.
It was all the Ravenclaw had wanted from the moment he'd entered this odd gymnasium of sorts.
The physical activity was behind him now, though, and he had no intention of dwelling any longer. Like many of his classmates, he grabbed his things and made for the exit. His stomach growled as he went. Cassian found himself regretting that it wasn't potions next. At least then, he could've made a speedy detour to the kitchen for a quick snack. The transfiguration classroom was in the exact opposite direction, and he didn't think his head of house would appreciate his tardiness.
He would have to suffer, it seemed.
As the boy exited the room, he tried to spot Rosie, hoping they could walk to their next class together. If he were really lucky, she'd have some of those pastries she sometimes made, then he wouldn't have to starve while learning complicated magic.
That was never a winning combination.
