WHEN: 'Alive Without Breath, Cold As Death'; Sunday, January 16th, 2009; 11:58 AM
WHERE: Great Hall
WHO: Chance-- and anyone else who wants to poke the blob of melancholy
Chance had his Arithmancy book open, though he wasn't necessarily doing any studying. His forehead was resting right in the middle of the heavy book's binding, and he tried to focus on his schoolwork, but nothing was working. When they announced that they would be taking blood samples from Muggleborns, who could help but be nervous!? Especially when you had skipped the registration bit, and pretended that you weren't what you actually were.
And urgh! Chance didn't like blood! The look of it, the smell of it, or the idea of it. He was even a little bit disturbed whenever he watched the old Muggle thrillers.
Good thing he didn't have to give any blood, he supposed.
Sighing, he lifted his head and returned to his Arithmancy homework. He could see Professer Askes face in his mind, telling him that he made a good effort, but that he got every solution wrong.
"Gaaahhhhh," Chance grumbled, causing a couple of his classmates to look over at him.