Hrothbert "Bob" Bainbridge

"Useless," muttered Bob, running his hands through his white hair.

The second-years had filed out, tense and subdued after a lesson that had included acid burns, exploding wards, and no fewer than three students randomly bursting into song. One child had gone to the Hospital Wing with a burn that Bob could have prevented had his hand been solid enough to catch the beaker when it slipped. ( The school's spontaneous musical epidemic had ceased to be amusing. )


[[Backdated to Friday. Complete lyrics are here.
Students may hear Bob's inadvertent emo performance, but this is the immediate aftermath.]]

[[Private]]

Tales of doomed lovers have always moved me. *shuddering sigh* That I, of all men, should fall prey to these griefs once again... but a full heart will not be checked... not now.

[[/private]]


Congratulations to the Drama Club on their performance of "that most excellent and lamentable tragedie". There is no doubt that your practice was well repaid.


[[Filtered to Dwayne]]

Next time you might want to deliver the fliers individually -- that would preclude nosy children claiming that they're missing out.

[[/filtered]]


[[Those whose attention turned to the staff section of the audience may well have observed Bob weeping silently at the emotional bits, at least before he got self-conscious and turned invisible.]]