Game called on account of...Dementors?

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Cassia's POV

This is what my uniform looks like:

We were all super excited for Defense Against the Dark Arts class today

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We were all super excited for Defense Against the Dark Arts class today. But that excitement turned into silence when Snape came in. With a flick of his wand, he closed all the window shutters and pulled down a projection screen. "Turn to page 394," he said in his usual montone voice. That's weird, where's Professor Lupin?

None of us dared to argue with him. We all flipped through the pages of our textbooks. I was shocked at what I saw we were covering today. Werewolves.

"Excuse me, sir, where's Professor Lupin?" Harry asked.

"That's not really your concern, is it, Potter? Surprising to say your professor is incapable of teaching at the present time. Turn to page 394," Snape replied. He tapped a slide projector with his wand. When he saw Ron was going too slow for his liking, he pointed his wand at the book, causing it to turn to the right page.

"Werewolves?" Ron wondered.

"But sir, we've only just begun learning about red caps and hinkypunks. We're not meant to start nocturnal beasts for weeks," Hermione objected.

"Quiet," Snape snapped.

"When did she come in? Did you see her come in?" Ron asked.

"Now, which of you can tell me the difference between an Animagus and a werewolf?" Snape asked, just as Hermione raised a hand. He ignored her. "No one? How disappointing."

"Please, sir, an Animagus is a wizard who elects to turn into an animal. A werewolf has no choice. With each full moon, when he transforms, he no longer remembers who he is. He'd kill his best friend if he crossed his path. Furthermore, the werewolf only responds to the call of his own kind," Hermione explained.

To prove her point, Malfoy howled, earning himself a chuckle from a few of the Slytherins and an annoyed huff from me.

"Thank you, Mr. Malfoy. That is the second time you have spoken out of turn, Miss Granger. Are you not capable of restraining yourself or do you take pride in being an insufferable know-it-all?" Snape asked.

"He's got a point, you know," Ron whispered.

"Five points from Gryffindor. As an antidote to your ignorance, and on my desk by Monday morning, two rolls of parchment on the werewolf, with particular emphasis on recognizing it," Snape continued as we all groaned.

"Sir, it's Quidditch tomorrow," Harry protested.

I nodded in agreement.

Snape stormed over and grasped the edges of Harry's desk, glaring at him with those cold eyes of his. "Then I suggest you and your sister take extra care, Mr. Potter. Loss of limb will not excuse you. Page 394," he snapped. While he continued his lecture, a paper swan flew onto mine and Harry's shared desk. We unfolded the paper to see a picture of people on brooms pelting us with the Quaffle several times over. I looked around to see who had sent it, and then my gaze fell on Malfoy. Malfoy folded his arms and gave me a smirk. In reply, I just took the paper and ripped it to shreds.

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