Euan was in a horrid mood. And that was putting it bloody lightly. First, he had received his class schedule only to learn his first class of the day was potions. Because of course he would have to trudge down to the dungeons every morning so he could freeze his arse. Second, he had woken up at 3AM because one of the bloke’s he roomed with talked in his sleep and only seemed to get louder if you told him to bugger off. And as he lay there, suffocating himself with his pillow, Euan firmly believed being a light sleeper would be what drove him to murdering the poor sleep talking sap one of these days. Thirdly, as he marched, exhausted and murderous, down one of the hundred and forty-two staircases which led to Snape’s class, he forgot about the sole vanishing step on the stairwell, and nearly broke his neck as he fell through the hole onto the staircase below. Rina, his best mate, was still laughing her arse off even though the incident had happened minutes ago. “Your face!” The girl choked. “You should’ve seen your face!” Rina’s mirthful laughter echoed in the cold, gloomy dungeon. Euan grumbled, glaring at the girl beside him, he opened his mouth to retort only to get smacked in the face by one of the glass jars of pickled animals floating around Snape’s classroom. The sight of his face connecting with the jar renewed her laughter. Grumbling more darkly, Euan rubbed his aching face as he slipped into a seat at a table towards the back of the room. Rina claimed the chair next to his slamming the books she had been carrying in her arms down as she glanced around. The room was mostly empty, no Snape in sight, just one or two other early rising students wearing their house colors. “Hmm,” Rina hummed after serving the class. “Double Potions with Gryffindor – I dare you to find me a more amusing way to start the year!” Euan groaned. Because, of course, what his crappy day needed was Snape’s misplaced anger and bloody headstrong Gryffindors egging the man on. Lovely.