OOC: 'Kay. Xp;
Should a different person (other than the one of the founders) be the Transfiguration proffessor? If so...
Braindead? Here's something to chew on, then...
IC:
"Class! Settle down, Mcfitte, or I shall have you thrown out of the class. That I can asure you-no, now don't whimper you silly boy! Look-you're getting the whole of the front of your robes stained! Good grief, I really must take a Calming Drought...
MISS MARLEN, DON'T TOUCH- there's a good girl. Lay the instrument down. NO fiddling, children! Ah well- class, now, I am going to take roll. Aborde, Alice?"
A blotchy-faced Gryffindor said quakingly;
"H-here Proffessor!"
"Eh, Afeheldi, Bullock?"
A rather largely-built Slytherin boy responded gruffily:
"Here Proffessor."
"Afenfeilds, Marilyn-"
This was when Vera burst in through the door, clumsily skidding to a abrupt halt as she felt her peers gazes on her, as well as the proffessor's as well.
She looked at them too, and at the teacher:
a woman with her mousy hair pulled up into a severe, complicated hairstyle that consisted of several loops that formed themselves into the bun in the very middle of the top of her head, wearing grim-looking, faded magenta robes, and glasses which instead of enlarging her eyes (which were blue), made them appear tiny and slit-like, young-aged though the wrinkles on her brow were most prominent, who also was pointing a long, wooden rod at her.
The proffessor glared at the newly-appointed Slytherin, saying:
"I don't know what you think you're doing here tardy, but, you musn't enter here like some sort of blonde elephant, Miss...?"
"Vera. Shenes." She muttered through gritted teeth, a small blush creeping up onto her ears and neck. A random Gryffindor laughed, but however how large her temper could've rosen at that, she ignored it, her eyes fixed on the teacher.
"... Miss. Shenes. Kindly take your seat in that empty chair next to Miss. Falle, will you?"
"Yes, Proffessor." Vera repeated sullenly, then walked over to the directed seat next to a redhead Slytherin. She dropped her bag onto the desk, then sat down, neck and ears still flushed.
"Good. Now, Agoor?, Mattens..."
...Vera wondered when her rival and his sibling would get here...