Post by noelle on Aug 4, 2006 12:15:59 GMT -5
What's the main thing people hate about going to classes? For one, having to sit still and pay attention that long, let alone learn something. But the main reason that came to mind when Nikhol thought of classes and why she hated going to them was the homework. Unfortunately, teachers loved it. A lot. And Nikhol had it loaded on her, since she'd skipped a week, all because she was sick. She never skipped, but she was forced to this time. It was contagious and the nurse had confined her to a bed in the Hospital Wing. Of course, Nikki protested, but there was nothing to be done; the nurse had the final say in everything, especially who gets to go about a normal routine and who doesn't. Nikhol never skipped. This couldn't be happening to her!
No, no, Nikhol wasn't a "leech for learning". No, she was just in an unfortunate predicament: she had no one at home to teach her the things she needed to know. Every year since her third year, Nikhol had been stressing out about the fact she didn't have anyone to teach her curses and hexes and things she couldn't possibly learn in school. How was she supposed to become someone now? What power would she have? None, absolutely none. It was because of this that she had decided it was absolutely necessary that she learn everything she could possibly learn from school. Yes, it was rare to find a Slytherin so determined to learn, but what could she do? She had to learn somehow, and studying hard in school was just about the next best thing.
But teachers still hated her, which was what had brought her to the Great Hall to finish her homework. It was in between meal times, so she figured she'd find some peace and quiet here. She was right; all that was in the Great Hall was a few house elves and some other studiers. The Slytherin table was, of course, the only place Nikhol felt at home, so she took a seat on the end of the undecorated table, quietly as she could, for she knew she could get kicked out if she showed just how bad her mood was. She opened her Transfiguration book to the page where she was assigned to write an essay on. Luckily, the Transfiguration teacher didn't hate her as much as some of the other's did, so he let Nikki off with just a 3 foot long essay. Essays were easy for Nikhol; she could have this done in 30 minutes tops. Nevertheless, she didn't like to write so much in so little time, so she took her time reading over the section assigned.
Many people asked Nikhol why she chose to continue on with every subject, excluding Care of Magical Creatures. Nikhol always just replied, "There's a lot to learn in every class, and you can never be sure you learned it until the end." It was philosophical enough for the inquirer to become confused and leave her alone, yet true enough for them to be satisfied and never ask again. The truth was that Nikhol felt deprived in what she knew of magic, and she wanted to try her best to regain the empty space where she would have learned this and that spell from some sort of parental figure. Nikhol had none; she lived in that giant mansion alone with the maids and the servants attending to her every irregular and ridiculous demand. Her parents were in Azkaban, last Nikhol checked. She wished her mother would have found a way out, and that her father had had his soul sucked. Nikhol had no idea if either of them were alive; she had stopped checking the papers for news on them.
There. A foot was done. Only two more to go. This wasn't so bad. The quiet was cosuming Nikhol's ears like water pressure some 20 feet deep under the surface. She was getting immersed in her work, a trait that not many like her possessed. Her surroundings were beginning to slip around her, not allowing her to notice the house elves shuffling her things around to clean; not noticing the fits of coughing being heard from the other side of the room; not noticing that an elf was asking if she cared for anything to eat. This wasn't an uncommon trance for the young Slytherin; this often happened when she was deep in thought, usually when she was left to her own devices for entertainment. In fact, her trance was so deep, she didn't even notice a human voice speaking rather clearly and loudly to her. Pity, Nikhol would have loved to snap at someone that day, informing them rather rudely that she was busy and this wasn't the time to be bothering such a tempermental brunette.
[/center]No, no, Nikhol wasn't a "leech for learning". No, she was just in an unfortunate predicament: she had no one at home to teach her the things she needed to know. Every year since her third year, Nikhol had been stressing out about the fact she didn't have anyone to teach her curses and hexes and things she couldn't possibly learn in school. How was she supposed to become someone now? What power would she have? None, absolutely none. It was because of this that she had decided it was absolutely necessary that she learn everything she could possibly learn from school. Yes, it was rare to find a Slytherin so determined to learn, but what could she do? She had to learn somehow, and studying hard in school was just about the next best thing.
But teachers still hated her, which was what had brought her to the Great Hall to finish her homework. It was in between meal times, so she figured she'd find some peace and quiet here. She was right; all that was in the Great Hall was a few house elves and some other studiers. The Slytherin table was, of course, the only place Nikhol felt at home, so she took a seat on the end of the undecorated table, quietly as she could, for she knew she could get kicked out if she showed just how bad her mood was. She opened her Transfiguration book to the page where she was assigned to write an essay on. Luckily, the Transfiguration teacher didn't hate her as much as some of the other's did, so he let Nikki off with just a 3 foot long essay. Essays were easy for Nikhol; she could have this done in 30 minutes tops. Nevertheless, she didn't like to write so much in so little time, so she took her time reading over the section assigned.
Many people asked Nikhol why she chose to continue on with every subject, excluding Care of Magical Creatures. Nikhol always just replied, "There's a lot to learn in every class, and you can never be sure you learned it until the end." It was philosophical enough for the inquirer to become confused and leave her alone, yet true enough for them to be satisfied and never ask again. The truth was that Nikhol felt deprived in what she knew of magic, and she wanted to try her best to regain the empty space where she would have learned this and that spell from some sort of parental figure. Nikhol had none; she lived in that giant mansion alone with the maids and the servants attending to her every irregular and ridiculous demand. Her parents were in Azkaban, last Nikhol checked. She wished her mother would have found a way out, and that her father had had his soul sucked. Nikhol had no idea if either of them were alive; she had stopped checking the papers for news on them.
There. A foot was done. Only two more to go. This wasn't so bad. The quiet was cosuming Nikhol's ears like water pressure some 20 feet deep under the surface. She was getting immersed in her work, a trait that not many like her possessed. Her surroundings were beginning to slip around her, not allowing her to notice the house elves shuffling her things around to clean; not noticing the fits of coughing being heard from the other side of the room; not noticing that an elf was asking if she cared for anything to eat. This wasn't an uncommon trance for the young Slytherin; this often happened when she was deep in thought, usually when she was left to her own devices for entertainment. In fact, her trance was so deep, she didn't even notice a human voice speaking rather clearly and loudly to her. Pity, Nikhol would have loved to snap at someone that day, informing them rather rudely that she was busy and this wasn't the time to be bothering such a tempermental brunette.