CHAPTER EIGHT
in the mandibles of education

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  THE LAST THING COVE WANTS TO see first thing in the morning is a new seating plan.

  Usually this wouldn't mean much in Care of Magical Creatures since they're outside for majority of the term, but for some unexplained reason Professor Rigby abhors the outdoors — despite teaching, y'know, bloody Care of Magical Creatures — and prefers handing them out textbooks to copy from. (She's really starting to miss Kettleburn's whimsy.) The thing is, Cove hates sitting next to people that aren't her friends, afraid that if she so much as breathes wrong they'll hate her forever and holding her breath for an hour isn't an ideal solution. However, nothing can rival the horror of walking into class and seeing Rigby with a smug little smile crinkling her red lips. There's just something so evil about it.

Cove doesn't understand where Rigby's hatred for her comes seeing as she's never done anything to hurt her. Not on purpose, anyways. Maybe it's just one of these things.

Though, when she spots who she's sitting next to, she has to rethink whether or not Rigby actually hates her.

It's not particularly sunny outside, but the vague light streaming past the curtains catches on him, a sun catcher with his golden glow. A scarlet tie hangs around his neck, the sleeves of his bobbly grey jumper rolled up to his elbows. Concentration scrunches his face as he continues graffitiing a doodle of something she can't see onto his desk, the raised scars on his skin fading slightly into a less saturated pink. She cheers internally now that she's sat next to someone that she sort of knows.

"We've got to stop meeting like this," Cove jokes, sliding into her seat.

He jumps. "Cove!" he says, shoulders lifting. "What are the chances?"

"Aye, I know," she agrees. "Madness."

She wants to kick herself. That sounded so daft, like something her dad would say. He probably thinks she's a weirdo already.

  Fallon catches her eye from across the room, gesturing with her arms so enthusiastically that her hairband nearly falls off and she almost sends the poor Gryffindor boy next to her straight to Madam Pomfrey. She thinks his name is Deimos Powers, but she could always be wrong.

Oh my Godric, Fallon mouths, nodding conspicuously at Remus. Soulmates!

Cove rolls her eyes. Very funny, she mouths back, unimpressed.

Rigby clears her throat obnoxiously to garner everyone's attention. Most people don't move their heads from their hands, eyes glazed over with fatigue. First period is always a joy.

"Are you quite finished pulling faces at Miss Pritchard from across the classroom, Henderson?"

Cove flounders for words, an unexpected spotlight forced on her. "Uh huh," she answers quietly.

"Good. I'm pleased to inform you all that I've marked your essays." Her stygian eyes pass over the blank faces before her. "They'll be handed out at the end of the period. Some were better than others, I'll admit, but the average scores were higher than I'd imagined. Now, I take it Kettleburn hasn't done a lesson on werewolves with you, yet?"

Remus stiffens next to her, but she doesn't think much of it. Majority of the class perks up at the word werewolf, interest piqued by a more interesting creature. (Cove won't take it personally.)

Rigby flicks the projector on. "A werewolf, also known as a lycanthrope, is a XXXXX classified beast that normally takes the form of human being but, upon the complete rising of the full moon, becomes an uncontrollable, wizard-killing wolf. This condition is caused by infection with lycanthropy, which is spread by contact between saliva and blood. Werewolves are almost indistinguishable from an actual wolf as the only real difference lies in their behaviour. When transformed, these man-eaters will stop at nothing to devour anyone they see — friends and family alike. No, that wouldn't stop a werewolf."

"Triton, who gave this woman a teaching degree?" Cove mutters snippily. Remus looks over to her, interest glittering in his eyes.

Rigby's glare sharpens. "What was that?"

"Nothing."

"No, no," she insists. "I heard you say something. What did you say?"

"I said that you can't teach," she blurts.

Rigby's eyes widen. "I beg your pardon?"

  "You're speaking about them as if they don't have minds," Cove says, growing frustrated. "As if they can't think."

  The class looks back and forth between them as if they're watching a tennis match.

"But they can't think," Rigby insists. "They're dangerous and can't be trusted to walk amongst real humans. They put the rest of us in danger everyday."

"That's so wrong," Cove snaps. "Nobody chooses to be a werewolf, Miss, nor do they choose to kill people when they can't properly think for themselves. When they're humans, they're just that. You can't act as if they're bloodthirsty animals all the time when they're not. Every new creature you teach us about, you seem to act as if they're vicious mutts so that you can feel better about yourself. It seems as if your biased opinions on basic human rights are clouding how well you can teach."

"How dare you speak to me like that?" Her expression quickly grows smug. "I'm sure your perspective would change if you actually came face to face with a werewolf."

Cove narrows her eyes. "Rather a werewolf than you, Professor."

It's a weak insult because it was honestly the only one she could think of, but Rigby's expression is so enraged that it looks as if she'll burst at any given moment, so she takes it as a victory. They engage in a heated staring contest that goes on for a minute too long.

  "Well, seeing as you're so insistent on speaking over me, you'll be seeing me in detention after school."

  "Miss, that's so unfair!" Remus interjects all of a sudden. "She hasn't even done anything wrong."

  Rigby's eyes gleam. "Alright, Mr Lupin. You can join Henderson in two weeks detention if you want to argue with me as well."

  "You can't just—"

  "Do you want three?"

  He slumps back in his chair.

  Rigby restarts her speech on lycanthropy. Cove can't focus when she's still simmering from that whole spiel about them being 'beasts', her pointy teeth digging into the inside of her cheek to pacify herself. While Rigby may have had a point about her not wanting to come face to face with a transformed werewolf, that doesn't change the human feelings they experience every other day of the moon cycle. What really makes Cove any different from one of them? She's never had a very developed opinion on werewolves before today but she reckons that all of the slander of selkies from the week before was what set her off.

  Though, strangely enough, there's something about the way Remus is looking at her with his eyes softened that soothes her frayed nerves.

author's note!

i hope this chapter made sense lol i speed wrote it when i was half asleep and only got round to editing it like five mins ago

hoping that someone notices the reference of my bbg deimos from my other fic lol 🙏🙏