Just Checking In[Tag: Dean]

Waycca had been wandering the halls for the majority of the afternoon. She didn't have any specific goal in it; she was simply bored out of her mind. She'd been trudging along, eyes on the ground and brow furrowed in deep thought when the door to the Muggle Studies classroom caught her eye. The first class was still vivid in her mind, and though she thought it'd been hilarious when Grace managed to give him a limp on the Quidditch pitch, she was curious as to how he was doing.

She rapped her knuckles on the door before throwing all mannerisms to the wind and poking her head in. "Sir?"

"It's open," Dean called, his eyes on his predecessor's notes, once again, trying to find something he could actually salvage. But thus far he hadn't had any luck.

"Is my door glowing or something?" he muttered, this being the third knock he had heard this afternoon, which was more than he'd heard since he had arrived at the school.

Waycca slipped in and let the door swing closed behind her. She took a seat in front of his desk and peered at the papers all over it, one eyebrow poised in a skeptical fashion. "Studying, are we?" she mused, sitting back in her seat and crossing her arms. She shifted her gaze to the ground, but couldn't see his leg from where she sat. Not that she was especially concerned. He was obviously fine if he was still here.

"Nope," Dean shuffled the papers around, "Just trying to find something current in this mess."

"Were you looking for something in particular Miss Louise?" He asked leaning on the paper covered desk. The parchment crackled under his weight but he ignored it, most of it was going to be fuel by the time the day was over.

Waycca lifted her eyes and smirked, one shoulder rising in a shrug. She vaguely remembered last years Muggle Studies professor. When she'd talked to her aunt about what he'd taught them, she was appalled at the outdatedness of the information. It hadn't made much of a difference to Waycca. "Yeah, actually," she conceded. "Your foot. It hasn't, like, fallen off by now, has it?"

"If it has I haven't noticed," Dean replied, his expression a mask of seriousness. He waited a beat before grinning and leaning back.

"It was just dislocated, no lasting harm done. It just needed to be realigned," He explained with a shrug.

Waycca bit her lip to keep from smiling too widely and nodded. "If you you don't know where your appendages, I reckon you've got quite a few problems," she grinned.

"Didja hobble down to the hospital wing or doctor yourself yourself up?" It was something she could see him doing - realigning his own foot rather than having a professional deal with it.

"Do I look like the type of person who would drag myself all the way up to the Hospital Wing when I could fix it myself?" He asked with a raised eyebrow.

"I must admit that Miss Wang has quite the tackle, it takes a lot of force to dislocate an ankle."

"You look like the type of person who's too stubborn to get help from Madam Pompfry so he does it himself," Waycca said with a shrug.

"Ooh, yeah. She must be mega buff to topple a building like you," she chuckled.

"Sarcasm. Amusing," Dean said dryly rolling his eyes, "I'll have you know I've been hit by people bigger than Miss Wang and been able to walk away from it."

Waycca cocked her head, eyes narrowed slightly. "Hmm...my belief in that statement depends on whether you think walking and limping are the same thing," she said, unable to fend off a small grin.

"Either way you're moving, one just involves more pain than the other." He began stacking the papers into a messy pile, he would throw them onto the hearth later. Once his desk was clear, he pointed to the gun case as the back of the room.

"If you don't mind Miss Louise, there is a rifle in there that I need to clean. Would you mind grabbing it?" He held up the key to the case.

"Ooh, firearms," Waycca murmured, grabbing the key and striding to the rear of the room to fetch the rifle. She brought it to him, though she rather liked the weight of it in her grip. Guns were a Muggle weapon Aunt Laurie knew quite a lot about - she'd gone hunting quite a bit when she was younger - and Waycca was particularly eager to be this close to one.

She put the key on his desk before lowering herself back into her chair. "Figure you want that back. Are we gonna be learning about those this year? Guns, not keys..." She crossed her fingers beneath the desk, dearly hoping she'd be taught a thing or two about them.

He nodded, opening the barrel of the gun, "The collection back there belonged to my grandfather, he has firearms dating back to the American Civil War. We'll probably end up shooting a few of them too."

In theory, guns were faster than a spell, and he was bizarrely eager to test the theory.

Waycca scooted forward a bit in her seat, watching in mild fascination as he opened the thing. It could open? "Awesome," she muttered, the thought of actually using a gun scintillating. "The things you put in there...bullets? Shells? Where do they go?" she asked tentatively, frustrated that she didn't know something that most Muggle-borns or halfbloods probably did.

"They go right here," he pointed to the small compartment where the bullets were stored, "We'll only be using blanks though, it would be an awful thing to kill someone now wouldn't it?"

Waycca nodded, peering at the place he pointed to. "Yeah, you're right," she sighed, sitting back in her chair and crossing her arms again. "That Wang girl might finally decide to finish you off."

"Nice to know my students care about my welfare," He drawled as he started cleaning the barrel of the gun, wiping away old gun powder and minuscule pieces of metal from old bullets.

"Next thing I know you'll all be killing me with affection."

Waycca made a soft scoffing sound. "Ooh, yes. Good idea. We've been having annual meetings of how to kill of the respective professors for each class. We were going to do 'drop-car-from-ceiling', but smothering you with hugs sounds much more practical," she conceded, nodding with an expression of extreme solemness.

"Touch my car and you're all dead. I'd sooner die of suffocation than see that thing destroyed." He gave a mocking glare and pointed at the mustang hanging from the roof.

Waycca raised an eyebrow, fighting a smirk. "Mm. I'm quaking in my boots," she said. "Alright, noted. Car, guns, bike...I'm running out of things to torture you with, man." She gave a faux exasperated sigh. "Threatening students seems to be working for you though."

"If it means getting you rugrats to behave I will threaten you until I'm blue in the face," he grinned, the threats only seemed to work on this particular student, but the others hadn't given him a reason to resort to threats yet and he couldn't make any promises.

He snapped the gun closed, "Here," he said handing it to her, "Use your strong hand to hold the barrel up."

Waycca straightened in her seat. She wasn't sure how he could be sure that nothing would come shooting out of it, but obeyed. She peered down the barrel of the gun as she held it up, trying to seem inconspicuous as she attempted to scope out the source of its power. She couldn't see any kind of mechanism that would shoot out the bullet. "Couldn't you just, like, whack someone with this? Knock 'em out cold, I bet."

"Oh hell yeah," Dean nodded "but you can kill someone with a bullet."

He could see the confusion written on her face as she stared at the gun, "When you pull the trigger it sparks some gun powder, which explodes pushing the bullet out of the gun with an incredible amount of force and speed." He explained trying to simplify it.

"The bullet takes less than half a second to reach its target and the right bullet can rip clean through your skull."

Waycca gazed at the contraption, fascinated. "Woah," she murmured, trying to put that all together in her head. Then she glanced at him, lowering the gun and cocking her head. "I must seem like an idiot to Smarty Pants Dean. This Muggle stuff is just...I like to learn about it, I guess. I mean, I guess I could just ask my aunt, but...you make it seem all real or whatever. You swear there's no magic in this thing?"