"Now look kids," Ron grunted as he leaned on his desk. The desk was new, sliced up from pieces of the whomping willow. The school was split between people who said that he had fought it as he sawed, and the people that said the willow gave him part of its trunk as a peace offering. "I don't have time for you little shits and I'm never going to. " He swilled the whiskey in his glass around. Hagrid had finally convinced him to use a glass in front of the kids.

A hand shot up in the back and Swanson openly groaned before pointing at it, "Yes Granger?"

"You can call me Hermione," she started.

"I'll think about it Granger," he said back. Hermione didn't speak for the first few seconds that followed. Ron pulled the glass up to his lips and waved for her to start talking with his left hand.

"Um-" she started eloquently, "I was just wondering if we were going to learn anything this class."

"You've already learned a lot of things," Ron said in response, "I've told you so many times how few shits I give about you."

"It's just that after Professor Trelawney left there hasn't been a single divination class."

"Okay, Ginger," he said pushing himself off of his desk with a grunt.

"Granger."

"I know what I said," he pointed out. Hermione whispered to Harry that she didn't' even have red hair. Unless he had actually been drunk enough to think that Ron was speaking, he was just making poor insults.

He took a few steps toward the middle of the classroom and looked around to his students, "Well," he said, "divine me."

"What?" Crab asked, "That's not how it works."

"Divine me." He said again. It wasn't like Ron knew anything about the class, he just needed to be in the room when the little squirts were.

"You're going to say that you don't give a shit about us, aren't you?" Malfoy spat from the back of the room. Hate for the new Headmaster was one of the few things he and Harry agreed on.

"Bingo," he said, "10,000 points to the snake house."

"Slytherin," Hermione cut in.

"10,000 from," Swanson stopped himself for a moment, "whichever house you're from."

"10,000?" Harry asked, "That's unfair, we'll never catch up."

"Detention for you-" Ron began. After a moment the horrible realization that he would need to hold the kid in during detention set in, "with Slughorn." He nodded in approval of his own strategy to get out of work.

"Professor," Ron was suddenly cut off by the sight of Ron finishing the glass of whiskey and throwing the glass toward the wall.

"Class dismissed," he said, "and someone fix that glass."

"L-" the first person to pull out their wand began, Ron shot them down with a glare.

"Did I tell you to use your pussy magic to fix it?"