John Constantine and The Overgrown Serpent

The Howler

By the time the new year's first lunch hour came around, John's ears were stilling ringing.

He had just come from History, and by God did a class that was hosted by a ghost of all things, was it boring.

The mage didn't give a damn about the wizard's history-useful to his situation or not.

The conflicts and solutions were all the same back on his Earth-rinse and repeat with a clearer or dirtier water!

If John had his way-he'd be back home by now. Dealing with his own world shattering issues one apocalypse at a time.

He reached out a paper from his robes, and gave his schedule another look.

Slytherin second years had their class next in Charms, Potions, DEFENS-"

"-for the love of!"
He groaned, unknowingly earning a surprised glance to their usually silent peer.
"I almost-almost-forgot about that bloody idiot Lockhart!"

Much more annoyed then previously, he re-folded the paper, and shoved back down into his pocket.

"Yeah-we do have to deal with that bloke Lockhart don't we?"
Came a similar noise of discontent from Crabb, making John pop out of his world and back into the land of reality-one that housed people all around him.

Pansy threw her fork onto her plate, showing her own displeasure at the topic.
"I cannot believe that that clown is allowed to teach here! I will not!"
She crossed her arms tightly, her facing twisting into her usual pug-like persona.

"Agreed."
"Merlin knows what the fool will force down our throats."
"Great. Another study hall then?"

John gave out a chuckled without consulting himself, and even worse-participating with the conversation.

"I don't even want to know how that narcissistic moron got half as far as he did!"
The blond turned his head towards their new 'teacher', making several of his peers follow his movement.
"From his over-glorified and clearly stitched together fables of his 'adventures and achievements', to possessing little to no real skill as a magical practitioner or a conman! That egotistical-maniac is so obviously fake that it physically hurts to look at him!"

He snorted, continuing his unexpected rant.

"Not that the single braincelled fool of a man, much less than a 'respectable man of higher standing and status', really ever truly provided a whole lot to glance at or admire in the first place..."

John shoveled another bite of his food into his mouth, sated now that he finally vented some of the stress that's been bottled recently into something....'productive'....

What John didn't expect was the silence.

The mage frowned, looking up to find the stunned and slightly appraising expressions of those around.

"What?"
He blinked at their behavior.
"What'd I say?"

"Constantine. I think that that's the most I've heard come out of your mouth yet..."
Zabini gaped before straightening.
"W-well I mean..." for a reason John didn't know, him a few others glanced at Malfoy of all people. "With that much that I actually agree with anyways..."