Joe's first week could politely be described as having been eventful, with an added dash of unexpected frustration tossed into keep things from getting too boring.
As predicted, half his students were only in Divination because they thought it was a soft subject and they'd be able to breeze through it, while focusing their true attention on more pressing and academic subjects. They were less than pleased to discover the stories their older siblings told them about afternoon naps listening to the professor drone about what they saw in a crystal ball were a little bit far off from Joe's style. Which tended more towards actually making them learn the history and application of different aspects of Divination.
The other half didn't sulk and murmur disconsolately under their breath, but looked at him with wide eyed expectation of prophecies being spouted off every five minutes. Joe had a sneaked suspicion what they really wanted were swirling capes made of blue velvet with stars and moons sewn on in silver and clouds of artistic steam; a plain old wizard in plain old robes wasn't nearly as mysterious.
He was glad to have Monday off, if slightly apprehensive about the tense murmurs he kept picking up on. Truth be told, though, after an couple hours of lounging in his room in boxers, he got attacked by a sudden, unexpected fit of loneliness. He thought about trying to search out Patrick, but there was more weirdness there than he really wanted to deal with and instead found his feet carrying him to the staff lounge, with only wrong turn along the way. He was getting better.
On an off day, he was surprised to see a pair of feet propped up on the arm of a couch. Unsure if the occupant was napping, he quietly took a few more steps and was pleased to see it was Professor Smith.
"Hey," Joe said, flopping down into an armchair. "You bored of your room, too?"