It's the middle, the middle of my story on Transfiguration

Professor Lilac Crosby

July 01, 2011 12:37 AM

It... is alive! [Third, fourth, and fifth years!] by Professor Lilac Crosby

It had thus far been a relatively quiet year for Lilac. She wasn’t sure she liked that. This term, she felt almost disconnected with her first year Teppenpaws as she had felt a sudden illness coming on the day of the Opening Feast. Not feeling well, she had consequently asked Pippa Brockert, seventh year prefect, lead them to their common room and deliver the welcoming speech. Even this simple task was very important, and she was glad it was Pippa in whom she invested her trust.

So perhaps the first years of her House did not know her as well as some of the older students. Some of that mild quietness was, as she had been the term before, a bit less distraction or whatever it was about her that bothered students. Maybe, however, a little bit of it this year was trying not to embarrass her niece who now attended Sonora. Her antics outside of school never seemed to bother Sally, but it could be different in a formal, professor-student situation.

The class for which Lilac was now preparing was not Sally’s. The third, fourth, and fifth years would soon come piling in for their intermediate Transfiguration lesson. Her straightened hair she pulled back and wrapped into a bun. After her hair was up and formal, she went behind her desk and picked up a few things for the day’s lessons and sat them on the desks of the students. For more surface space, she had pushed two to three desks together.

Not long thereafter, the students began to enter, and the brunette professor tugged at her--very teacher-y--sweater in subtle discomfort, pulling the bottom of it farther down to overlap a good few inches of her pale brown skirt. “As soon as everyone is seated,” said she to those who already were, “we will begin.”

Once all the students found themselves a seat, Lilac stood in the center of the front of the class for the most visibility. “Good day, class,” the twenty-eight year old smiled. “Before you on your desks you see a Muggle form of transportation, a model train. The black oval it sits along is called the track.”

“These trains do not move on their own accord,” continued the professor. “That is where our spell will come in. Allow me to demonstrate.” She stepped over to the train and track on her own desk and aimed her wand. This spell had no accompanying wand movement. As she incanted, the words appeared on the board. “Piertotum locomotor.”

The train began to move in the direction and at the speed her wand circled the track. “This spell brings animation to inanimate objects, allowing the caster to control its movement.” She stopped using her wand as a guide, but the train continued on. “If you have it following your wand precisely, try focusing in your mind on the motion rather than guiding the train itself. If you focus, it will continue to comply.”

Suddenly the train came to a halt. “To end the motion, simply think in your mind about the train sitting still. As we have two or three to a track, please be sure to take turns.” She certainly didn’t want anyone to miss out because their partner was selfish. “Unless there are any questions, you may begin,” concluded Lilac. She would, as usual, be walking around the classroom, in case any questions should arise.

Subthreads:

...I don't think I want sentient toys. by Sara Raines, Pecari with Marcus Williams, Sara

It is? by Ryan O'Malley, Crotalus with Jane Carey, Teppenpaw

It's the middle, the middle of my story by Nic Sawyer, Crotalus with Samantha Hamilton

The important part is, does it hate us? by David Wilkes, Aladren with Autumn Collins, Crotalus

Eeeek! by Kirstenna Melcher,Teppenpaw with Sam Bauer, Crotalus

CLASS CLOSED (nm) by Professor C.

0 Professor Lilac Crosby It... is alive! [Third, fourth, and fifth years!] 0 Professor Lilac Crosby 1 5

Sara Raines, Pecari

July 03, 2011 5:15 PM

...I don't think I want sentient toys. by Sara Raines, Pecari

Joining the intermediate classes wasn't, Sara was sure, such a big deal. She still had at least one class with the beginners, and even once she completed third year, she would still have the majority of her education left in front of her. It was even inconvenient in some ways, since these classes were so much larger, with older students who, with their CATS approaching more rapidly than hers, would need to be focused on. No, her new classes were nothing to be excited about.

She was excited anyway. At least a little. Enough to have spent much longer than usual picking out her dress - deep green, to go with the robes, and trimmed in gold - and making sure her long brown curls were perfect before she left the dorm this morning. It felt a little silly, and the novelty would wear off in another week, but for now, she accepted it.

She took a seat near the front, her complete lack of height taking precedence over deference to the fourth and fifth years. She was expected to do well in lessons, since no one wanted a stupid wife unless she was the sort of Catherine-level heiress that didn't occur very often and not very much even then, and it would be very hard for her to have that success if she couldn't see the board all year long. Once settled, she extended polite greetings to her neighbors and began taking out the usual useful class objects, carefully arranging them so they came nowhere near the train model. What could that be for?

She took notes as the lesson began, a little amused and a little confused by the motionless Muggle trains. What the use of such a train, even as a toy, would be, Sara didn't know, but perhaps that was why they were fixing them.

When they were told to go to work, Sara wanted to pick up her wand and start, but instead looked to who she was sharing a model with. "Would you like to go first?" she offered.

0 Sara Raines, Pecari ...I don't think I want sentient toys. 0 Sara Raines, Pecari 0 5

Ryan O'Malley, Crotalus

July 03, 2011 11:19 PM

It is? by Ryan O'Malley, Crotalus

Although Ryan probably had the lowest self-esteem of anyone in the entire school, he felt somewhat sure of his ability in Transfiguration. He knew he was above average and that made him feel slightly better about himself, just for a little while. It made him feel good that even with his mental deficiency, the one his mother had insisted he'd had his whole life, Ryan still had magical ability in a very difficult branch of magic.

Of course, his mother always insisted he was a near Squib while Carrie was infinitely more powerful, more intelligent, more attractive and all around better to Ryan in every way. In turn, Ryan's aunts and uncles and grandfather insisted his mother was completely delusional. Though, they had never actually met his little sister, but his father never said anything to suggest Carrie was superior to Ryan. Nor had the Crotalus observed such in those rare instances where he'd been unfortunate enough to be around the nine year old.

The third year quietly took the seat next to the one he usually did, which was occupied by an older student already. Though Ryan had less fear of Professor Crosby than he did of most faculty members-he was still pretty much convinced Coach Pierce hated him because he was the worst flyer in the entire school-and was better at Transfiguration than other things, he still did not want to sit in front where people could see and laugh at him if he screwed up.

Besides, he often felt weird in Transfiguration and it was best not to call attention to certain things. It was extremely strange having his uncle's girlfriend as a teacher.

Ryan also felt being in a class with fifth years was rather intimidating. The work might be harder than it had been, though from what Ryan had gathered, the lessons Professor Crosby had taught him as a first year were meant for older students and that was why they had suddenly gotten easier in the middle of last year and Professor Crosby had started dressing differently. Ryan knew his uncle was not that thrilled about that part of it as he had liked Professor Crosby just the way she was already.

Ryan looked down at the strange train thing on his desk. This spell sounded more like a charm than anything. He was all right at Charms, but Ryan would have preferred a transfiguration. When he transfigured things, he usually made at least some progress and that made Ryan feel good, something he rarely felt.

He turned to his apparent partner, and asked "Who do you want to go first?" Ryan still always let the other person have first pick of things, make all the decisions. He could more easily avoid making someone angry or unhappy if things went their way rather than his. Especially when he had no strong feelings on a subject either way, like right now.

11 Ryan O'Malley, Crotalus It is? 176 Ryan O'Malley, Crotalus 0 5

Jane Carey, Teppenpaw

July 04, 2011 7:19 PM

I don't really think so by Jane Carey, Teppenpaw

She knew it was ridiculous, considering the temperatures outside the climate-control charms and even the weather within them, but Jane had woken up wanting to wear an old, wide-necked gray sweater she had, so - after a few moments of contemplating who she'd see most, and how their thoughts on it ranked comparatively - she had. She had Transfiguration Potions, where the rooms were often a little cold, today anyway, and the white dress she had on was the sort of thing she'd worn to play when she was little, short-sleeved and with a skirt that covered her knees completely but was a good three inches short of her ankles.

She didn't know why, since it wasn't raining and she didn't think she was ill, but it just felt like the kind of day for wearing a sweater, even if it was a pretty light one and she did take it off for meals, and going to class with her hair only perfunctorily touched with a brush and the bangs pulled back off her face in a ribbon and no lipstick, though that otherwise went more with her normal persona than with the moods where she wasn't up to standards. It was kind of hard to pay attention in class, and she still felt like a little bit of an outsider now that most of the people she was acquainted with except Autumn and Kirstenna were in the Advanced group, so she'd started sitting in the back, too, and didn't vary the pattern for Transfiguration. Instead of going over something, she spent the time before class began studying her fingernails.

Her mind, though, followed the lesson without her input, recognizing that they were working in what it considered the gray area between Charms and Transfiguration, for this not to be a simple locomotive charm. She wasn't sure what exactly about the nature of the little train thing they were changing, but the second level, where it could remain active without direct guidance, must have been the line - or so she reasoned.

She stopped picking at her cuticles, not because it hurt - it had been doing that for a bit, now - but because the practical lesson was beginning and she was afraid she was about to make it bleed, which would just be a mess if anyone noticed before she got her wand out. Goodness, she really wasn't doing well today. She always had her wand out before the class began.

"If you like," she said, with a slightly unfocused smile for the third year who asked her if she wanted to go first. She felt a little bad for most of the third years. It had been all right for her, she and Edmond had always been tutored together and she was used to being expected to keep up, but unless the professors were willing to jeopardize CATS scores, most of them were being asked to work with the fifth years when they weren't at all accustomed to it. Only the fourth years got much of a bargain in these classes, generally speaking. She pointed her wand at the model and said, "Piertotum locomotor."

The train began to move, nearly derailing before she remembered herself enough to direct its movement around the loop. When it came back to where it's engine was facing her other, propped-up elbow, more or less the position at which it had begun, she stopped it."You can try the first step before I try to move it without the wand, if you want," she said.

0 Jane Carey, Teppenpaw I don't really think so 0 Jane Carey, Teppenpaw 0 5

Nic Sawyer, Crotalus

July 10, 2011 11:22 AM

It's the middle, the middle of my story by Nic Sawyer, Crotalus

Nic was a fourth year now. Fourth years were the exact middle of the school hierarchy. There were three years older than them and three years younger than them. Even within the intermediate classes, most teachers designated that level as 3rd-5th, which meant there was one year above and one year below. He couldn't possibly get any more average than this.

At least in age. Height was another issue entirely. He knew of two people taller than him in the school, and they were both beaters. At five-nine, he was still shorter than Demelza Eagle and Edmond Carey. Demelza was even a fifth year so he wasn't even the tallest person in the intermediate class yet. He did take second place though, so he always sat at the back of the room, so as not to block the view of the board for anybody else.

Plus, it usually gave him a good vantage point for watching Rachel Bauer (his staring since the Opening Feast had become a bit more amazed since he was still a bit shocked that she'd agreed to go to the dance with him at the end of the year).

Today, though, even Rachel Bauer couldn't hold all of his attention (only about 75% of it) and his eyes kept drifting curiously toward the model trains. Model trains were dorky and geeky so he didn't own one of his own, but they had always held a strange fascination for him. The fact that these were not motorized did not lessen that at all, and the minor disappointment immediately dispersed when he found out magic could be used to animate them instead.

He paid close attention to Professor Crosby's instructions (almost as much as he paid to Rachel Bauer's hairstyle) but he didn't want to seem too eager to play with a toy train because toy trains were not cool. So, when she invited them to try the spell out on their own model sets, Nic stated aloofly to the other people at his table, "Someone else can go first."

1 Nic Sawyer, Crotalus It's the middle, the middle of my story 165 Nic Sawyer, Crotalus 0 5

Ryan

July 10, 2011 6:33 PM

Oh, okay. by Ryan

So the person that Ryan had spoken to was an older student, which was okay, as Ryan thought she was one of the fourth years rather than a fifth year. He still felt deferential to her, but then he pretty much felt deferential to everyone. Ryan would probably find himself below even a house elf.

In fact, he often was on par with house elves. Sometimes they had even been treated better than Ryan. He'd never had to do their chores-his mother would not want him touching her things or Carrie's-but if one of the house elves did something wrong, Ryan was often blamed either for actually doing it or commanding the house elf to do it.

That was something Ryan would never do. He had trouble ordering them around to begin with as they were like his friends.He had eaten with them and slept in their quarters before as a punishment, which really had not bothered Ryan that much. His favorite house-elf, Bonky, had been Ryan's best friend prior to meeting Sophie and sleeping in house elf quarters was like a sleep-over. Of course, Mrs. O'Malley had stopped punishing Ryan this way once she figured out that he liked it. The same fortunately had not happened with going to his grandparents when his father wasn't home, probably because his mother did not want him around.

Ryan really hoped Bonky would continue to live with Ryan and his father after the divorce. The Crotalus would not put it past his mother to do something terrible to Bonky just to hurt him.

It might seem to some people that that was a self-important way for Ryan to think, but his mother was capable of an awful lot and she hated him. Ryan was still not entirely sure why, something about him being an icky boy rather than the daughter she had wanted and got four years later. And now she had to hate Ryan even more for destroying their family. If he had only been better ...

Ryan watched the older girl (Jane Carey, he thought) do the spell. Once she finished, she suggested he could try step one. "All right." Ryan agreed. It wasn't like the third year would disagree, both because he did not like to be argumentative-that would lead to major trouble-and because it was the assignment.

"Piertotum locomotor." Ryan pointed his wand at the model and it began to move. He smiled. It was such a rare thing for him to feel he'd done well.

Perhaps he should introduce himself to his partner. The third year was not entirely sure of her identity and doubted she knew his. Ryan wasn't anyone important, despite his belonging to important pureblood families."Um, I'm Ryan O'Malley. Of the Colorado O'Malleys." Ryan added, knowing he needed to introduce himself properly if he was talking to who he thought he was talking to. He didn't want to make a mistake and have her angry with him.

Ryan looked at her. Something seemed...off. Like something was wrong. He had heard her mother died. Most people would be sad about that. Ryan wondered how he'd feel if his died. He hated to think it, because it was a terrible way to feel, but Ryan didn't think he'd be all that sad. Regretful maybe that they'd never had a good relationship, because he was so inferior, but he didn't really think he would miss her.

Just like he wouldn't miss her now that his parents were divorcing and he wouldn't see her anymore. Ryan just felt relieved. Still, he knew from his cousins' relationship with their mothers-other than Amity's which already seemed to be showing signs of strain and Amity was only eight-that his relationship with his mother was not the norm.

"Are you all right?" Ryan asked. He didn't want to pry, and she could tell him as much as she wanted or as little but he was a little concerned.

11 Ryan Oh, okay. 176 Ryan 0 5

Jane

July 10, 2011 8:05 PM

I think it's most likely better than the alternative by Jane

Jane smiled again, more at what she was seeing than in the general way she had before, when the third year also mastered the first phase of the spell on his first try. “Nice job,” she said, brushing her hair back where it had fallen over her shoulder. That was the problem with the way Mother had preferred her hair to be cut, the way it was long enough to be considered properly feminine, but still short enough that it was constantly falling forward and she was having to put it back.

He introduced himself to her, confirming that he was one of the third years. He was on the List, but she was sure they had never met before; though she didn’t know of anything wrong with him, she’d written him off of it, and Mother had agreed to some extent, because there were just so many pureblood girls in his year, it was inevitable that one of them would snatch him up over, well, a girl from the second, non-dominant line of the Virginia Careys, and the daughter of the less affluent of that line’s two heirs besides. “It’s a pleasure to meet you,” she said. “I’m Jane Carey, of the Virginia Careys.”

The Big Branch. That was them. South Carolina was starting to get big because of that one man with the four or five sons and his brother with the twins, but it still only just ranked above Edgar’s line in size, and Virginia still had most of Anthony II’s line and all of Old George’s besides Edgar’s. Louisiana had begun a generation later than everyone else and was still building, Georgia’s youngest generation had no males and the one before it only had two, and it was almost a joke to talk about North Carolina these days, with its three little children batted back and forth between Georgia and South Carolina and Virginia like a ball on a string between three cats. If not for their distinctive hair color, she imagined they would have been absorbed into another branch without fuss and the existence of a North Carolina branch forgotten, but they stood out.

South Carolina had trouble with its girls, Georgia and North Carolina would take two generations to recover from Alasdair’s madness if they survived at all, and Louisiana needed at least one more to be substantial, but Virginia still stood. Virginia would always stand. The four of Thomas’ five sons who’d stayed faithful to him had all had comparatively small families themselves – Joseph had four boys, William three, George and Henry two apiece – but their sons all had sons, and their sons’ sons had sons, and those sons were starting on sons. It would take a disaster for the Virginia Careys to be wiped out. Her father, the second son at the end of the second line, only having a daughter had not even been a matter for comment.

She started the second phase with the wand, as instructed, but then began to concentrate, gradually lowering the slim piece of wood to the desk. The train slowed, nearly stopped, then resumed moving, though not as quickly as before. She frowned slightly, focusing harder, and it picked up a little speed…then it died away again…picked up again…slid to a stop, from which she couldn’t rouse it.

“Drat,” she said mildly, biting the side of the nail on the longest finger of her right hand. “It just won’t work with me now, will it?” She smiled again. “You can have a try, then I’ll try my best again.”

Her expression shifted into surprise when he asked after her well-being. “I’m just a little tired today,” she said. “I’m afraid I can’t concentrate very well.” She lifted one shoulder with another smile. “Do you ever have those days? You’re not tired, exactly, but you feel like you should be, and it’s so hard to make yourself do anything, really? It’s one of those days. It’s all silly of me to let it get in the way.”

0 Jane I think it's most likely better than the alternative 0 Jane 0 5

Marcus Williams

July 14, 2011 9:23 PM

Why not? They could be fun... by Marcus Williams

Marcus was thirteen now. An actual teenager. His mother kept telling him that she couldn’t believe that her little baby was growing up. He chose to ignore those comments by simply rolling his eyes. But, he sort of agreed with her. He couldn’t really take in everything that was happening. For instance, his good friend Pete was now dating Jeanne. Actually, most of his friends were dating girls from their block or even some suburb girls. He thought it was kind of funny when he returned home to find that out, but whenever he wanted to hang out with any of them and play hoops, the girls always had to come along. It became very tiring after awhile.

He didn’t have anything against the girls. On their own they were cool and he knew plenty of girls at school, but when he just wanted to have fun, he did not want to have to deal with them too since they usually did nothing but complain. It would only go downhill from there.

Being thirteen also meant that he would be starting some lessons with the intermediate class group. He thought that was kind of cool. He felt that made him a little older. Maybe have more stand in the school, even if it still meant he was still low on the food chain, he was no longer the lowest.

He walked up his head a little higher now as he entered Transfiguration. He no longer had any resentment towards the professor. Perhaps it was the way she carried herself now that had him looking at things different. She definitely looked like a teacher instead of a college student, but he felt that it was more of the fact that Nova wasn’t around, so he didn’t have to be nervous anymore. She was the first girl (minus his mother and grandmother) Marcus ever felt intimated around, but definitely not the last. This school was full of females and Marcus was only just starting to learn how crazy they could really be.

Speaking of girls. “Hey Sara.” Marcus greeted when she turned to him. This lesson seemed more like Charms than Transfiguration. They weren’t transfiguring the train into something living, they were just merely making it move. “You can go first, you’re better with your wand than me.” Marcus commented with a grin. “Do you think this lesson is crossing into Charms territory? I mean, isn’t that what we’re doing, charming it to move?”

6 Marcus Williams Why not? They could be fun... 180 Marcus Williams 0 5

Ryan

July 16, 2011 3:24 AM

Agreed by Ryan

"Thank you." Ryan replied, blushing. He was still not really used to compliments. It seemed like anytime he gained a little self-esteem, it ended up being depleted twice more. Whereas his sister's seemed to grow in the extreme. Carrie seemed to be more arrogant (and cruel) every time Ryan had to deal with her. He was beginning to get wary of people with too high an opinion of themself. Ryan knew they were superior to him, he didn't need them to remind him of it every chance they got.

And, of course, Carrie did. Everyday she got closer to being as impossible and as horrible to him as their mother. She seemed to delight in telling Ryan how much he was to blame for their parents getting divorced. As if he couldn't do that to himself.

It really did make Ryan want to tell his dad to just forget it. To give him up and forget about him. He'd stay with his grandparents or Sophie or something when not at Sonora. To leave where he wasn't really wanted and not drag his father with him. Carrie had the right to their father too.

"It's nice to meet you too." Ryan replied. He would have used Jane's exact terminology to make sure he was saying things properly but Daisy had not seemed impressed when he'd done that with her. Ryan didn't want to make mistakes. Mistakes were bad and lead to people disliking you. Sometimes, he didn't realize he'd made one. Sometimes, it felt like he didn't do anything but make mistakes.

"All right. It was a good try though." Ryan said encouragingly. He put down his wand too and tried to move the train by concentrating. And concentrating. And concentrating .

He was about to give up and let Jane go again, as he was starting to get a headache when it finally moved...about a quarter of an inch. "Apparently it won't really work with me either." Ryan replied. His embarassment was somewhat lessened by the fact that Jane had had a difficult time too.Still, he had to do well. In all of his classes, really, but especially this one. If he didn't, Professor Crosby might turn on him and then maybe Uncle Seth would too. Or he'd cause problems between them.

Just like he had his parents.

The Crotalus nodded. "Sometimes." To be honest, Ryan was tired in class nearly everyday, especially in the morning. He was not wired to be a day person, he was a night owl and as such, had a hard time wanting to go to sleep at night. Sometimes Ryan would lie in bed trying to fall asleep and be unable to do so. Then he'd start thinking and get depressed and anxious so he had to get up and read or study until he could no longer keep his eyes open. Ryan felt it was probably for the best that he didn't have a roommate or his roommate would surely hate him for it and Ryan did not want to be hated.

11 Ryan Agreed 176 Ryan 0 5

Samantha Hamilton

July 20, 2011 9:53 AM

It's the middle of middle by Samantha Hamilton

Nic Sawyer was an odd person. Samantha didn't often pay all that much attention to her other yearmates - which might be contributing to her small number of friends in her yeargroup - focused as she was on her classwork and appearances, in a manner that rarely facilitated paying much attention to others. Yet even she had reached the conclusion that Nic was a bit peculiar. For one, he had this crazy crush on Rachel, if rumor was to be believed (and on the couple of occasions she'd cared to check its validity, Samantha had seen Nic staring in Rachel's direction, so she had no reason to refute the rumors). Samantha was going to say that liking Rachel was odd in itself, especially as she liked Rachel a lot herself in a strictly platonic/mentor way, but stalking her was definitely bizarre.

For another thing, Nic played Keeper for Crotalus even though he sucked, and apparently had never even wanted to sign up, anyway, yet he had now for - was it three years running? - a while, anyway. Samantha supposed that Nic couldn't help that he was a much worse Keeper than she was (but then she was awesome, so he joined most others in that category), and she supposed he couldn't help that Crotalus didn't have any other Keepers on offer, but there just had to be someone else in that House who could catch a ball while seated on a broomstick if Nic was so uneager to do it himself. She thought it was very strange he should continue to do so.

Most recently, though, when Samantha had ended up sitting at the same desk arrangement in transfiguration (as an Aladren she usually made a point to sit nearer the front of the class, but something about Professor Crosby made her want to keep her distance), Nic casually announced that he wasn't going to be first to try the spell, despite the way he had fairly obviously been regarding them with interest just moments ago (in the precious few moments spared from his staring at Rachel, that is).

"I don't mind going first," Samantha volunteered, giving Nic a sidelong look that indicated her opinion of his peculiarity. She withdrew her wand and cast the version of the locomotor spell they were using today at the model train, which in turn began a hesitant, jolty journey around the track. As its movements gradually became smoother and more fluid, Samantha lowered her wand and attempted to keep the train moving as the professor had suggested, but the miniature vehicle stopped still. "Partial success," Samantha commented as much to herself as to her group. "I didn't mean for it to stop yet."

0 Samantha Hamilton It's the middle of middle 159 Samantha Hamilton 0 5

Sara

July 21, 2011 11:13 AM

Or destroy the Earth. by Sara

"Oh, thank you," Sara said, looking down and flushing slightly when Marcus said she was better with a wand than he was. Thanks was the standard response to a compliment, though she was immediately not sure if it worked here, or if she should follow it with the standard demurrals. Modesty could come across all wrong. It was just so hard to tell, especially with boys. "I have some good days, I guess."

She nodded in response to Marcus' thought on the work, though. It wasn't always thought well of for girls to discuss things like this, magical theory and such, but she had mostly given up on not seeming able to by now, and Marcus was comparatively safe anyway. "Locomotor is part of the incantation for at least two charms," she said. "And this...Trains don't think, do they? I've taken them before, and there's supposed to be a conductor."

She shrugged, smiling to deflect any interest from anyone (such as the teacher) who might not appreciate their discussion. "But I suppose we're just students. Maybe she's trying to develop autonomous trains." Which was really a little frightening, but really, if no one had come up with it yet, what were the chances Crosby would? Existing, but slim was her guess.

"Here I go," she said, looking back to the little train. She pointed her wand at it and tentatively said, "Piertotum locomotor."

To her delight, it moved. It didn't move far, but it moved, and that meant this lesson was going to fall into place. She tried, she really did, she was sure she did, but she couldn't keep from smiling and clasping her hands in front of her. To her almost relief, the wand in her right hand made the second gesture awkward, calling her attention to it so she stopped.

"It's just a first try," she said, to excuse the slightness of the motion she was so pleased over. "Would you like to try it now, Marcus?"

0 Sara Or destroy the Earth. 0 Sara 0 5

Jane

July 23, 2011 1:09 AM

I like agreement by Jane

“Thank you,” Jane said when Ryan told her she’d done a good job of trying. Mother would have, she was sure, seen that as a good job at failing, but it wasn’t polite to say that kind of thing, especially when someone was being kind. In general, you didn’t talk about standards, you didn’t talk about anything that might cause strong feelings. That wasn’t how it worked.

Sometimes, she and Edmond were given subjects to debate and had to take opposite sides, but even then, she didn’t think they’d really started getting into that kind of territory. They might say what their part would, but really, they thought so much alike on everything that she was still amazed they weren’t in the same House, sometimes. Their parents had always joked that they could just call one name, because there was almost nothing they could need one of them for that the other wouldn’t be somehow involved with. Even their tutors had seemed to consider them, despite Jane being a girl and there being some slight differences in strengths, basically interchangeable.

She had liked it when it was like that. When they had been the same. It had been nice, feeling that, whatever was going on, she wasn’t alone – they were in it together, somehow, and would get each other out. Now, though, it was different, just a little but that was enough, and she didn’t think it would ever be quite right between them again.

“It’s a start,” she encouraged Ryan when he had a harder time of it than she did. That wasn’t failure, the way her failure had been; he was a year younger, and she was either at the top or very near the top of her year anyway. “I’ll try again, and you can have a minute.”

She left her wand on the table this time, determined to move it along by sheer force of will. She could do it, she knew. After everything, she thought she could do almost anything, given enough time and enough of a reason. She could certainly do this. She could….

The train jerked suddenly into motion before slowing to a more reasonable pace and sputtering out after half a loop. She counted it as an improvement, though it made her blink as her concentration broke, her eyes straining a little, a faint throb coming into her temples, and her face feeling a little damp, though she doubted she was sweating visibly yet. It always felt worse than it was.

“That was…difficult,” she said, rubbing her eyes, then pinching the bridge of her nose for a second. “Oh, my,” she added, rubbing her eyes again. “That’s harder than I expected it to be. But it worked better this time. Do you want to try again?”

0 Jane I like agreement 0 Jane 0 5

David Wilkes, Aladren

July 26, 2011 12:53 AM

The important part is, does it hate us? by David Wilkes, Aladren

David doodled aimlessly along the margins of the college ruled paper in his notebook, the home-like stuff he used for things he wasn’t going to hand in. No designs, really, just line segments, throwing in angles when he felt like it and doubling back over things. Just moving the pen against the paper for something to do before class.

It hadn’t been a bad week, he guessed. He’d read two interesting books, which was always a perk, especially since he sometimes couldn’t concentrate enough to read anything he didn’t have to (along with quite a few things he did, technically, have to, though he usually managed to scrape by even if he didn’t) for long stretches of time. He’d done well on his Potions work, always a major plus. He’d even managed a civil letter exchange with his least favorite relative after she surprised him by initiating it. The result, though, of all that was that he was now kind of…tired. If he didn’t keep his hands busy, he wouldn’t be able to concentrate at all.

So he slowed the pace at which he was doodling when the lesson began, but didn’t stop except to jot down a few notes on the spell. It figured today would be the day they were doing a spell that seemed to fairly well run on the spellcaster’s willpower and focus. All magic seemed to be that way, at least a little, but some was more than others, and he’d been hoping for one of the days where it was more point-and-click than point-and-kill-it-with-his-brain, and this one even cut the ‘point’ out of the equation on stage two.

He smiled at the train’s other users, though. Not his classmates’ fault. “You want to go first?” he asked, both because he didn’t want to be the controlling type and because he’d kind of like to see someone else try it, to give him an idea how hard he’d be concentrating to accomplish much of anything with the spell.

16 David Wilkes, Aladren The important part is, does it hate us? 169 David Wilkes, Aladren 0 5

Ryan

July 28, 2011 3:55 AM

So do I. by Ryan

"You're welcome." Ryan responded. To his way of thinking, she had done quite well...and he knew that he had not. It made sense that she would do better than him and that he might not do so great. Wandless magic was hard and Ryan was only thirteen. Even though transfiguration was his best subject,this was more of a charm than a transfiguration. Still, he couldn't help being extremely disappointed with himself even after Jane's encouragement.

He had failed and someone had seen. Ryan couldn't help but be embarassed. When he screwed up-and he always, always did-criticism was sure to come. What Jane must think of him! That Ryan was stupid and incompetent. She was probably just too polite to say it, which he was admittedly grateful for.

Still, the third year could practically hear his mother's and sister's derisive laughter in his ears. It was silly, Ryan knew. They weren't here and in all liklihood, he would never ever have to see his mother or deal with her ever again. She'd end up in legal trouble that way. Possibly go to jail. And even she wouldn't risk scandal,embarassment, and loss of freedom to torment him.

His sister was a different story. In fact, Grandpa had said she wouldn't be surprised if Ryan's mother put Carrie up to taking over torturing Ryan now. The third year disagreed with his grandfather on that point. It might be something his mother would stoop to, but Ryan didn't think it would be necessary to put his sister up to it. She'd do it on her own.

"Good job" Ryan encouraged Jane. He looked back at the train warily. He wasn't sure that he could manage to make it move this time either. The Crotalus was very worried suddenly about failing the lesson. Well, maybe not suddenly as Ryan was always afraid of failure and people laughing at him or getting mad at him or realizing that he was inferior and disliking him because of it but usually in Transfiguration he was more successful than this.

"I guess so." The third year responded. Ryan didn't know what she and Professor Crosby would think of him if he just quit. If he didn't do his work, he would not only fail, but probably get in trouble too. And Ryan hated trouble. Especially in front of others who could laugh at him for it.

He looked back at the train again. If only Ryan could change it into something instead of trying to move it without a wand. Maybe change it into a toy broom or something. It wouldn't matter if he couldn't fly on it if it was just a toy. But that wasn't the assignment and thus Ryan concentrated hard again.

This time it began to move very very slowly but it got farther this time. Not quite as far as Jane's had gone but farther than the barely perceptible half inch as last time.

Ryan smiled. He felt a bit better now, except that his head ached. "It is pretty difficult." He agreed with Jane. It was okay to admit it as she had. And he liked to agree with people. If you agreed with them, there would be no arguing and they wouldn't hate you.

11 Ryan So do I. 176 Ryan 0 5

Autumn Collins, Crotalus

July 30, 2011 9:08 AM

Oh, Merlin, I hope not! by Autumn Collins, Crotalus

There were an awful lot of things bothering Autumn these days. Her CATS next year, the prefect nominations next year, the ball this year. She would be mortified if she didn't get a date, even if she didn't have to worry about what Nina did.

Actually, if the Crotalus did get prefect next year-and she just had to, though it wasn't quite as important as getting perfect CATS scores-she would never have to worry about what Nina was worried about because the ball wouldn't come up again during the next three years. She had lucked out that way, never having to worry about that sort of humiliation, and only having to worry about the ball once.

Still, it would be embarassing enough not to get a date as it was. If she didn't get one, the fourth year didn't think she could bear to even show her face at the dance

For now though, Autumn put those thoughts aside, hard as it was to stop worrying about any particular thing, and sat in rapt attention as Professor Crosby spoke. The fourth year had finally gotten used to the professor, which made things easier. As had the fact that the professor had toned down the difficulty of her lessons. Autumn didn't think she was bad at Transfiguration but the less difficult something was, the more likely she was to succeed.

And Autumn had to succeed. Had to have something she could be proud of. Otherwise, she'd be incredibly disappointed in herself and she didn't handle that very well. Autumn was a lot tougher on herself than anyone else was on her.

When Professor Crosby mentioned the second part of the lesson, trying to move the train wandlessly , all the blood drained out of Autumn's face. The first part sounded easy enough, she was certain she could do that but wandless magic? There was no way Autumn could pull that off. She simply was not good enough and now everyone would see that. It would be utterly embarassing. People would laugh at her. Her grades would suffer.

“You want to go first?”

Autumn turned to see the person she was sharing a train with. One of the Aladren third years, she thought. "Um, sure." Autumn didn't want to, she really really didn't. The Crotalus never wanted to be the one to go first. She was far more comfortable with others showing her how it was done before she risked messing up. But it was rude to say she didn't. Especially when she was talking to a younger student who might think she was a coward or something.

The fourth year drew her wand, saying the spell and executing the motion flawlessly. At least Autumn hoped it was flawless. She did not want to be flawed in front of someone she didn't really know. That would make a terrible first impression.

Fortunately, the train-thing began to move. Autumn smiled, glad that she had least accomplished the first part. "Now, you can go." The Crotalus said, smiling pleasantly at her partner. She was in no hurry to go on to the second part of the task.

11 Autumn Collins, Crotalus Oh, Merlin, I hope not! 164 Autumn Collins, Crotalus 0 5

Jane

July 30, 2011 8:58 PM

So we agree on agreeing? by Jane

Jane smiled hollowly when Ryan agreed it was difficult, her own head still feeling a little strange after her success with the train. “I suppose that’s the idea, though,” she said, not wanting to begin again, but knowing she had to. “It’s through hard work that we make ourselves better.” She realized she sounded like she was quoting, which made sense since she was, but wasn’t necessarily the politest thing. “Or so Mother always said.”

She had, as she’d gotten older, started to question some of what Mother had always said, but that was one thing Jane agreed about. Being pushed to her limit was the only way to find out where the limit stood, and then to increase it. Maybe Mother’s predictions of how, no matter how intelligent she was, she would lose her edge as she got older, lose more and more of her ability to remember and process quickly, but she was nowhere near that point yet. She still had years left where she could get better, not just try to put off getting worse.

By the end of class, that train was going to move when she wanted it to, and it wasn’t going to stop until she wanted it to. “I’ll take another turn, if you don’t mind,” she said. “I want to see if I can make it stop when I want it to, even if I don’t keep it moving as long as I can.” It was best to master that trick before she began pushing her ability to concentrate on it too far. There had to be some trick to segregating this to only part of her concentration or else moving it to a third stage where attention was only needed to stop rather than maintain the motion, or else the spell would be practically useless, but she could worry at that later.

She got it moving, though at the cost of having to frown hard at it, and once it was clearly going, she began to think of it stopping. Picturing the stop. A cessation of movement...But the back of her mind was still thinking of going forward…

About half the wheels stopped, and about half didn’t, and the train tipped off its track. Jane jumped as it collided with the desk, breaking her focus, and clucked her tongue in irritation when she noticed what had broken it and, at the same time, her own minor setback. Not a failure yet, since the class was nowhere near over, but a setback anyway. She had always, Mother had also said, been too impatient, too eager to get it all right on the first try; many of the tutors had agreed. They seemed to think it indicated a lack of natural discipline. She supposed it could be true, though it was almost funny to think of having to work hard to overcome a natural inclination toward…not working hard but benefiting anyway. “That didn’t go as planned,” she said. “Would you like another try?”

0 Jane So we agree on agreeing? 0 Jane 0 5

Marcus

July 30, 2011 9:57 PM

There was a movie once like that... by Marcus

“You are welcome.” Marcus said in feigned over-exaggerated politeness, but the grin on his face was his way of showing he was only teasing. Sara was very… serious to Marcus. She never seemed to let loose and have fun. Marcus would try though. He will continue trying until Sara forgot about her stuffy family rules and just had fun. They were 13! Marcus didn’t understand how Purebloods work. Why did they raise their kids to be always behaving like adults? Raise them to be stuffy and boring even at the age of 11? Marcus’s mother said they just didn’t know any other way. It was hard to break tradition.

“Well, those good days must happen whenever I’m around.” Marcus commented before his face lit up at a thought. “Or, maybe I’m just your lucky charm!” Marcus exclaimed. “Just kidding, Sara.” He added quickly in case Sara was offended or something. Girls were strange sometimes like that.

“Er…” Marcus had to think about this for a moment. His world changed after he learned that magic was real, so he really didn’t know if trains thought for themselves. “Before coming to Sonora, I would have said no, they most definitely do not. They run on coal and electricity. But now…I’ve seen things talk that should never talk, so I would not be surprised if there are trains that can think for themselves.”

Marcus watched as Sara tried the spell and succeeded at it. “Great job!” He said. It may not have moved very far, but for a first try, it was still a success. Of course, it meant that if he didn’t get it to move or do anything, he would look really lame. He didn’t really think that Sara would hold it against him, especially since he already stated that she was better than him with her wand, but it was still embarrassing.

“Alright.” Marcus said and then took a deep breath to clear his head. He had never been on a train before, so he wasn’t sure of all of the makings of it, but he’d seen plenty of movies where trains were involved. He thought hard about it, everything he could remember when it came to trains as he said the incantation, “Piertotum Locomotor. To his surprise, the train didn’t move but rather, gave of a loud blow of the horn while steam flew out from the pipes. The horn startled him, so it didn’t last long, but he was still rather proud of it. Laughing in delight and slightly from having jumped at the sound of the horn, Marcus looked at Sara, “Not what I was expecting, but it was something.”

Marcus looked around the room to see what everyone else was doing and to see the progress. It was hard to say since they were with the Fifth years who were way better with their wands than he was, but he didn’t think the third years were doing too badly.

6 Marcus There was a movie once like that... 180 Marcus 0 5

Kirstenna Melcher,Teppenpaw

August 03, 2011 4:22 AM

Eeeek! by Kirstenna Melcher,Teppenpaw

It was with her usual wariness that Kirstenna entered Transfiguration. She might have been perfectly comfortable riding an elephant or swinging from a trapeze or walking a tightrope, but bad people made her suspicious. And Kirstenna would definitely classify someone who wished to turn students into beetles as a threat to Sonora. Maybe not quite as large a threat as the Imposter but still a pretty large issue.

She took a seat, eyeing Professor Crosby suspiciously. Kirstenna had yet to figure out what the woman planned to do with her unholy army of beetles. Maybe she just kept them as pets. Maybe she squashed them. Maybe she sold them as gourmet snacks. Kirstenna had seen a program on television about people eating all sorts of disgusting things.

Those were terrifying thoughts and the thing was, with the threat of the Imposter around, it meant it was easier for the Beetle Lady to be sneaky, as Kirstenna was so busy worrying about the Imposter.

The thing was, nobody else seemed worried or even aware of these threats, except maybe Derry. That made things all the more dangerous. Maybe there was some sort of mass mind control going on to make sure nobody knew until it was too late. Maybe through Imperius or through the food served at Sonora. Only Kirstenna was immune for some reason.

Yes, that had to be it. Sonora's food contained magical potions that prevented the students from seeing the danger that they were in and the Teppenpaw was the one in a million who had an immunity. Derry knew too, because of the stuff with his cousin.

As for the Beetle Lady, well she might not be in on the conspiracy. She was just taking advantage of it. Of the fact that Kirstenna was distracted. The thing was, that was only what they believed. The fourth year was not distracted. She was well aware of both these threats.

But were they aware of her immunity? Kirstenna was almost certain that the Imposter knew Kirstenna was on to her. Because Brian had confronted her. That was why she had boiled Tobar. So Kirstenna would be distracted by being Quidditch captain and right in the line of fire when the Imperiused Aladrens attacked.

Right now, however, the Teppenpaw was in the position to keep an eye on the Beetle Lady. Apparently, today's lesson was about trying to make a train move. Kirstenna had to wonder what nefarious purpose it was for. Possibly some simple object moving lesson, but that would be far too simple for the Beetle Lady. She had to be up to something.

Kirstenna looked from the train to the person she was sharing it with. "You can go first if you want to." She told them.

11 Kirstenna Melcher,Teppenpaw Eeeek! 161 Kirstenna Melcher,Teppenpaw 0 5

David

August 03, 2011 7:05 PM

Me, too. Any ideas for preventing that? by David

The fourth year girl beside him looked pale. David thought he might have should have noticed that before he sprung going first on her, but it was too late to worry too much about that one now. At least she was willing to do it, if not thrilled about the prospect. He would have gone ahead if she had asked, but she hadn’t.

When she did, he almost wished she hadn’t, because now he had to live up to that standard, and he had no idea if he was up for it. She had gotten hers running on the first try. She hadn’t yet done it wandlessly on the first try, he would own that, and this seemed very close to a basic locomotive charm, and they had been expected to handle those in second year, but still. There had to be some difference that made it Transfig and thus harder, and he was therefore impressed with her accomplishment and a little unsure about whether or not he could match it.

Still, he smiled back at her. It wasn’t sporting to hold it against someone for being good, especially when he was the one who’d offered to let her go first. “Guess you’re good at this,” he said, then added lightly, “Promise not to hold it against me if I’m not?” He wasn’t being very serious about that, though he did prefer for people not to think he was a total dunce. He blamed part of it on Aladren, the rest on lingering habits from before Sonora. Being at the top of the class wasn’t everything to him the way it had been then, since he had allies other than the teachers and found it increasingly hard to care about his family that much, but he had discovered that being a good student and wanting to be a better one was sort of ingrained into him at this point.

“Piertotum locomotor,” he said, his eyes narrowing slightly in concentration. For a second, he thought nothing was going to happen, but then the train gave an ungainly, sudden lurch and began to move, wobbling a little on its tracks but staying balanced.

When he stopped it, he realized he was grinning, despite consciously thinking it wasn’t that much of an accomplishment…yet. “You want another turn?” he asked, trying to smooth his expression. Wandless would be harder, so self-satisfaction now was dumb.

16 David Me, too. Any ideas for preventing that? 169 David 0 5

Sam Bauer, Crotalus

August 03, 2011 7:36 PM

Cue dramatic thunder and lightning by Sam Bauer, Crotalus

One time, when Sam was smaller, his mom had taken him to an amusement park while he was on spring break or something and had been a little put out about how a lot of the other kids in his class had been telling (probably grossly exaggerated; he wasn’t exactly from a place where money abounded) stories about what vacations they were going to take. While there, he had ridden a roller coaster. He could still remember that pretty vividly, though he wished he could forget how dizzy and ill he’d felt once he’d gotten off it again.

He didn’t usually feel off-balance and nauseous after Transfiguration, but there was a little something about the class that put him in mind of that roller coaster. One day, things might be sitting still, almost, nothing very interesting, a moment to catch his breath, but the next, it was like plunging straight down at full speed and he had no idea how his brain wasn’t going to come out of his ears at any old time. Honestly, he kind of liked that about it, even with the days when he came out feeling as though his brain actually was melting from something well above his IQ bracket. He liked feeling secure, but not totally monotonous, and classes where he wasn’t too sure what he was going to get fell into that range for him since there were certain standards of safety and sanity the professors had to observe.

Today, he wasn’t sure where the roller coaster was. Moving the train with the wand sounded deceptively easy, but moving it without was plunging straight into brain-melting territory. Maybe more from difficulty of execution than from difficulty of understanding what he was supposed to do and what it meant relative to anything, but brain melting nevertheless.

He shook his head slightly as they were told to get to work, glancing up to see who he was to work with and being a little startled to see Kirstenna. He’d…been thinking about her, lately. Right now, though, he blinked that off as something to maybe deal with later and nodded his agreement to going first.

“Sure, whatever,” he said, taking out his wand. “Piertotum locomotor.” The train shuddered, but didn’t move. “Dangit. Piertotum locomotor!”

This time, he squinted at it hard, holding his wand on it longer and willing it to move, and finally, it did. A whole three and a half inches. He sat back with an unconcerned grin, shrugging philosophically. “You want to have a turn?” he asked. “I’ll get it going in a minute, but you might have better luck while I’m warming up on erasers or something.” That last one occurred to him only as he said it, but he bent without looking away from her to rummage in his bag for something small to practice more on.

16 Sam Bauer, Crotalus *Cue dramatic thunder and lightning* 163 Sam Bauer, Crotalus 0 5

Ryan

August 08, 2011 4:35 AM

Um, yes. by Ryan

Ryan nodded. His mother had certainly never said anything like that to him. His mother made him feel there was no hope for him ever being better, no matter how hard Ryan worked-and he did work hard, but in some cases, like with flying, his mother was absolutely one hundred percent right.

Complete failure was what was expected of Ryan, but yet it wasn't acceptable. It seemed that his mother set him up for an impossible task. To do better than he was capable of. Plus, what he did accomplish was ignored or even belittled.

He wasn't supposed to worry about it anymore. It was supposed to be all over, but yet the damage had been done and Ryan couldn't help but expect to face someone's wrath or derision no matter what he did. That if he didn't do something up to expectations-or above them-people would turn against him. Ryan honestly didn't think Coach Pierce liked him, for example. He couldn't fly and he was an upper class pureblood even though he felt on par with house elves.

"I don't mind at all." The third year replied. Who was he to argue even if he did? Ryan's opinions had never really mattered and he certainly didn't want any conflict. Conflict bothered him, especially as they always seemed to be his fault and then he just felt worse.

Ryan watched as the train tipped over and felt bad for Jane. "I guess I can try again." He placed the train back on the track and concentrated on making it move. Ryan was not yet ready to try and make it stop. It seemed perfectly capable of doing that on it own.

This time it got even farther, about a quarter of the way around the track. Ryan's head was starting to really throb but at least he was making progress.

11 Ryan Um, yes. 176 Ryan 0 5

Kirstenna

August 09, 2011 9:20 AM

And ominous music by Kirstenna

Kirstenna grinned when she realized she was talking to Sam Bauer. She liked Sam and sort of considered him a friend. And as Brian was gone and Sophia seemed more interested in spending time with Renee Errant, the Teppenpaw was feeling kind of alone. Like she needed more friends. Of course, Kirstenna was afraid the Imposter would get them, kidnap or boil them or some new and horrifying thing but she couldn't isolate herself and let fear rule her life. She needed others to hang around.

In fact, Kirstenna was worried about her friendship with Sophia. She was afraid they weren't as close as before and it had nothing to do with the Imposter. Unless Renee was an agent of the Imposter. That was entirely possible. She wasn't a Carey or a member of the Aladren Quidditch team but she was a Crotalus and therefore, it was easy for the Imposter to get to her. Either she was a threat on her own or she was Imperiused as well. Or Renee was secretly the Imposter's daughter. Kirstenna was pretty sure the Imposter was old enough to have a thirteen year old.

Or Renee wasn't really Renee either and she was the Imposter's accomplice who was posing as a thirteen year old girl. Either way, Kirstenna was sure the third year was part of the Imposter's schemes one way or another, willingly or not. The Imposter was, of course, the one who wanted to take away all Kirstenna's friends and leave her alone and defenseless. She kidnapped Brian and now she was finding away to take Sophia away too. Why the Imposter did not kidnap or boil the Pecari was beyond Kirstenna.

Possibly because she'd already done that and wanted to try something new. Yes, that was it, Renee was some dark creature who would corrupt Sophia to become something twisted and eventually killing her or at least driving her to insanity.

Quentin would be next, Kirstenna was sure.

She watched as Sam gave the spell a try. Kirstenna was still trying to figure out why exactly they were doing this particular lesson. It didn't seem to have any connection to turning people into beetles. That was the thing about the Beetle Lady, she had one single specific goal in mind. Turning people into beetles. Not like the Imposter who was capable of anything and liked to vary her (or his) methods of torment.

The fourth year wasn't sure which was worse.

"Good job." Kirstenna complimented Sam when he got the train to move. She drew her wand, said the incantation and did the appropriate wand movements. The Teppenpaw could feel Sam's gaze on her and heat rose to her face, for reasons she didn't understand. It didn't feel nefarious of course. She was pretty sure Sam was a good guy.

The train began to move, surprisingly fast and Kirstenna looked back at her classmate. Suddenly, the train shot off the tracks and landed upside down on the floor. "Perhaps I should get that." She got up and grabbed the train, sat back down and placed it back on the track. "Your turn, I guess." She looked back at the train. "If I didn't manage to somehow break it." She felt just slightly embarassed as she looked over at Sam, blushing. Kirstenna really did not want to make a fool of herself in front of him.

11 Kirstenna And ominous music 161 Kirstenna 0 5

Autumn

August 10, 2011 4:48 AM

No, not really by Autumn

Autumn blushed.It wasn't good to be arrogant when you did something well and rub it in the faces of others. It was better to accept a compliment modestly. "Thank you." She replied. She did feel really good inside that she'd succeeded. That she wasn't a failure. Autumn hated to fail and would have been mortified if she had.

"Of course I won't." She assured the boy. The Crotalus never held others' mistakes against them. Autumn wouldn't want them doing that to her, which was something she worried about all the time, but for some reason she never seemed to think less of others who failed. Autumn only worried about her own mistakes. Obsessed over them, in fact.

"Oh, I'm Autumn Collins." The fourth year introduced herself, in case he didn't know her name. She wasn't sure she made that much of an impression on anyone. Which was too bad, but it was better than making a negative one. Autumn would rather blend in than stick out in a negative way at all. Better to get no attention at all than the wrong kind.

She thought for a second before adding, "Of the Pennsylvania Collinses," in case he was the type who cared about such things, if he was from such a family. Autumn wasn't too sure about the third year boys, she knew the one in her house, Ryan, was from that sort of family-and was her distant cousin-even though he seemed even more...withdrawn than Autumn herself was but she didn't know about the rest and she didn't want to make a mistake. She hated making mistakes.

Of course, if he wasn't that sort of pureblood, then he might think Autumn was stiff, formal, uptight and snobby. And she wasn't. Snobby, anyway. The Crotalus really didn't want that when she already had her house working against her in that respect.

She hated that stereotype as much as she hated the actual backstabbing that caused it. Those kinds of things only made Autumn more tense, if that were possible, so she didn't participate in them. The fourth year couldn't handle them and the stereotype made people assume the worst about Crotali as a whole. Just because a few year groups had been that way.

"Good job." Autumn complimented him. She looked back at the train. She really didn't want to go again, didn't feel ready for wandless magic but she had no choice. So she concentrated really hard, but to no avail.

The fourth year felt sick to her stomach. She had just failed , and in front of an underclassmen. Autumn wasn't sure which would be worse, failing in front of someone younger or someone older, but they were both horrid . She felt a bit like crying now but obviously she couldn't do that in front of three years worth of students.

"Um, you can try again." Autumn told the third year boy. She needed to calm down or she would never get it.

And that would be unacceptable to her.

11 Autumn No, not really 164 Autumn 0 5

Sam

August 10, 2011 11:08 AM

Gotta have some mountains and black cloaks, too. by Sam

Practicing on something other than the intended object wasn’t as straightforward as it sounded, of course. For one thing, there was no track, so his circles were erratic. For another, a semi-live eraser was a little different from a semi-live train. He thought it might be less intelligent.

That was what this was, he thought. He had vague memories of reading about it in the textbook while bored one day. It was hotly debated if these things were really alive – chess pieces, defensive statuary in some old, rich places – or had been however many ages ago the book was written, but they could move and interact a little, at least to following directions they were set with. Though maybe those could be more complicated, if it was a strong wizard who knew more than the lot of them, than just “go around in circles.” He wasn’t much of a chess player, but he was guessing there were a lot of potential moves on the board even without the way some of them tried to advise the player on chess strategy, and defensive ones would have to be able to account for what the other guy was doing and know the moves to deal with that, so….

Yeah. Bunch of stuff that was over his head, but it seemed to make a level of sense that the more complex the thing the spell made the other thing ape was, the harder it got. A train had parts that moved, so it was smarter than the eraser, which was easier to get moving but which there was no point in animating. Making something that looked like a person, like a chess piece or a fighting suit of armor, would therefore be harder than making the train go, because people were more complicated than trains. Or something like that. He’d never really planned to study magical theory for a living.

He was startled out of these unusual thoughts by a sudden clatter, and he jumped and looked around for a second before realizing Kirstenna had, he hoped inadvertently, sent the train airborne. “Maybe,” he agreed when she said she should maybe get that, then laughed when she added the part about how it was only his turn if she hadn’t broken it. “It looks fine,” he said, though he didn’t know if he really had the authority to say so. What did he know about trains and how they were supposed to look? It had a lot of wheels and boxes to it. “At least you got it going, right?” He pointed his wand at it, wondering if his insights were going to help or hurt, and tried the spell again.

This time, it moved. A little jerkily, true, but it moved almost all the way ‘round before it slowed down to the point where he gave it up and let it stop. “Now on to the hard part,” he said. “Your turn.” He started concentrating on his eraser. It didn’t move. “So, what do you think of all this theme stuff the headmaster’s talking about for this year?” he asked, hoping to put off having to try wandless magic a few seconds longer. If he couldn’t get the eraser going easily, the train was not going to be a successful experiment at all. Plus, he really did wonder what other people thought about it. It seemed kind of weird to him, and he was kind of annoyed by the ball theme. No way was he’d be able to acquire Renaissance outfits for it, so he expected to end up looking kinda idiotic.

16 Sam Gotta have some mountains and black cloaks, too. 163 Sam 0 5

David

August 10, 2011 2:04 PM

Treating it with kindness seems like a good first step. by David

“David Wilkes,” David replied to the very polite and serious-seeming Autumn Collins when she told him her name. The rest of her introduction marked her pureblood, but he didn’t add on any further details to his own name. For one thing, it struck him as kind of stupid to pretend to be something he wasn’t when he got the feeling it was fairly easy to check, and for another, he thought he represented himself more than he did any group of others, from his kin to his House. Though, if asked to pick, he thought he might have identified first with his House. He could believe Annabeth and Selena were his sisters in spite of Annabeth’s dark gold hair and not because of a certain similarity between the shapes of their faces, but he had cousins he had no idea how he could share genes with and would have concluded were the results of his aunts having affairs if his aunts and uncles weren’t just like them. “Good meeting you.”

He took her thanks as proof that he really was looking too pleased with himself, but nodded even as he tried to force the smile off again. “Thanks,” he said, before she took her turn.

This time, it didn’t go as easily for her. The train wasn’t moving, and she was starting to look a little upset. “Okay,” he said when she said he should go on. “I’ll give it a go. I don’t expect it to work because this stuff’s hard, but hey, we’ve got the rest of class, right?”

Something told him he would not be winning the Mister Subtlety award or the Mister Comforter of the Year prize, since he felt he’d failed equally on both fronts, but he’d had to say something, and acknowledging that she was having trouble directly was…well, if by some miracle he did get it to work fairly quickly, that would just be…yeah. No, he wasn’t going to do that. Plus, girls were incomprehensible, so for all he knew, she might slap him cross-eyed for saying anything directly. Heck, she might slap him cross-eyed for even saying something indirectly, though she didn’t really seem like that type.

He focused on the train moving. Wheels turning. Long things attached to the wheels, the bits that looked like grasshopper legs to him, going back and forth. Chugging sounds. Moving along. He focused on that, emptying his mind of everything else except the dim background of thought that never went away – like how this reminded him of the way Annabeth’s social studies teacher had talked about meditation when his sister was in seventh grade, and then she’d spent ages walking around the house listening to clocks, trying to pull it off, and how that had kind of just trailed off instead of being interesting. He refused to think about that much. He was focusing on the train.

It fell over.

“It’s a start,” he remarked lightly. “Are you ready for another turn?” he asked her.

16 David Treating it with kindness seems like a good first step. 169 David 0 5

Autumn

August 18, 2011 11:29 AM

Kindness is always good by Autumn

Oh, Merlin, now she had made another faux pas !David wasn't a pureblood and now he probably thought Autumn was stuck-up. How utterly mortifying! She didn't care that he wasn't, Samantha wasn't either and she was Autumn's friend. In fact, Lily wasn't a pureblood and she was Autumn's sister. She was far more concerned about what David thought of her .

But he said it was good meeting her and the alternative would have been far worse, to introduce herself incorrectly to a pureblood. She'd be a blight on her family then. People might think poorly of the Collinses, and after her father having a child with a muggle, Autumn didn't want to give them more reason to criticize her family. She loved and looked up to Lily, but lots of purebloods probably didn't approve.

This all made Autumn's failure with the train worse. Not because he wasn't a pureblood but because she felt like an idiot already. All over the classroom people were making progress with their trains. From where she was sitting, she could see that Jane had managed to move hers, as had Ryan. Autumn's best friend doing better than her was one thing but a third year?

Make that two third years. David had just gotten the train to fall over but it was more than she had done. She felt awful, even more like crying. Or throwing up. Either of those things would make the situation worse though. The last thing Autumn wanted to be known for was making more of a fool of herself than she already had. If she started crying, then nobody would want to go to the dance with her for sure!

Autumn eyed the train warily when David mentioned her having a go. She had to get this. Could not let herself fail. If the Crotalus couldn't move the train wandlessly, she might not get an O on all her CATS and Autumn just couldn't let that happen. She'd never be able to live with herself if it did. It would haunt her the rest of her life.

She took a deep breath and tried to calm down a little before giving the train another try. Autumn concentrated and this time...

Nothing happened. Autumn now knew that she was going to be up all night trying to get this to work if it killed her.

11 Autumn Kindness is always good 164 Autumn 0 5

Kirstenna

August 19, 2011 2:11 PM

And maybe some mysterious fog and dark shadows. by Kirstenna

Kirstenna grinned. She rarely took herself too seriously, so propelling the train of the track wasn't a big deal. Especially as Sam was laughing as well and it didn't seem to be at her. She liked making people laugh, making them happy.

That was the Teppenpaw's problem with certain people. Her grandparents and uncle seemed to have absolutely no sense of humor for one thing. Their rejection tended to make Kirstenna sad until she had let it go, cleansed herself of it at last year's bonfire. Though the fourth year wasn't sure how well it worked. She'd had nothing of them, nothing to represent them. They didn't give Kirstenna gifts, and if they ever had given her anything, that would have meant they cared a little at least and there wouldn't been any sort of problem. So Kirstenna had simply made a vow to herself not to dwell on it.

She also could have let go of what had happened to Brian but how could she? He'd been her friend and the Imposter had taken him away. Kirstenna didn't know if he was alive or dead. The Imposter needed to be stopped for the good of everyone. She (or he) had so far killed the real Jannette Wolfe,stolen her identity, kidnapped Brian, poisoned Headmistress Powell, killed the real Amelia Pierce (who had been evil too), stolen her identity, Imperiused the Aladren Quidditch team, boiled Tobar alive and unleashed a dark creature in the form of Renee Errant upon the school. The Imposter needed to be stopped before she (or he) could do anything else! Kirstenna couldn't let that go, she never would!

The Teppenpaw smiled, relieved. "Right." Breaking the train would have been a very bad thing. The Beetle Lady might have gotten angry with Kirstenna and turned her into a beetle. And she'd made it move as well, so it wasn't as if it did nothing at all, so that was good.

"Good job!" Kirstenna exclaimed as Sam managed to make the train move almost all the way around the track. She drew her wand and did the movements and said the incantation once again when her classmate told her it was her turn. This time the train moved halfway around the track jerkily but at least it didn't become airborne again.

"Hmm..." The fourth year considered Sam's question. "It might be fun but I'm not sure where we'd get old clothing. The town of Tumbleweed is nearby. Maybe we'll be allowed to go there and get costumes. And I'm sure the wealthy pureblood children will get fancy custom made costumes from home too. I mean, I have custom made costumes as well, but those are more for circus performances and are definitely not what people wore in the sixteenth century." Her circus clothing was easy to tumble in and very colorful. People in the sixteenth century wore a lot of fancy, impractical stuff that would get in the way for trapeze acts. Plus, people from that time period would have been shocked at how much skin trapeze artists showed.

11 Kirstenna And maybe some mysterious fog and dark shadows. 161 Kirstenna 0 5

Professor C.

August 20, 2011 11:40 PM

CLASS CLOSED (nm) by Professor C.

0 Professor C. CLASS CLOSED (nm) 0 Professor C. 0 5

Sam

August 25, 2011 6:27 PM

Definitely. by Sam

OOC: So, class is closed and midterm is over, but since this is one of the few threads I actually meant to go somewhere with...Here it is, for social purposes rather than points ones. BIC:

“Yeah,” Sam agreed to Kirstenna’s evaluation that what she wore to perform in the circus probably wasn’t what would have been considered appropriate. He had a vague notion of court jesters, and knew it was only a vague one, but their costumes still didn’t sound very likely to be what Kirstenna would wear to perform in a modern circus.

That was something he couldn’t quite get his head around. He had an idea of the circus, enough to know that he didn’t get the point of clowns and that the acrobatics were really impressive, but it was another thing entirely to have the idea of a pretty girl he happened to know being in one. He’d gathered that Kirstenna’s family was a bit…odd (as though it had possessed another option when her some-kinda-relative Quentin was in it), but a fourteen-year-old girl performing in the circus? He guessed it would make all the gymnastics easier, since people did the Olympics in that when they were really young, but….

He guessed it was because it was work. His mom would have to get a sight poorer than they actually were one way or another before she’d have him working during the summers right now. Maybe in a year or two, but not now. Maybe Kirstenna’s family didn’t see it that way, though. He had a vague notion that circuses could also be family affairs.

“You’re still doing better than me, though,” he offered. “I don’t think I even own regular store-bought dress robes.” He smiled at her and decided, hey, why not. “Want to be the anti-theme couple there?” he offered.

Then his brain caught up, and he realized he’d just kind of asked her out. Oh. Well, then. Maybe she’d think it was a joke. Yeah. That could work, he thought.

Still, though. The things he’d do to get out of taking his turn in a hard lesson. He thought he might need to re-evaluate his priorities if asking a pretty, accomplished – well, she was Quidditch Captain, and he wasn’t even Assistant yet, if he ever would be anyway – girl if she’d go out, even on one occasion, with, er, a guy who was probably shorter than her was easier than just going ahead and trying to move stuff with his brain. That, he was sure, was not remotely one little bit normal. Not the remotest or littlest bit, even, maybe.

16 Sam Definitely. 163 Sam 0 5

Kirstenna

August 27, 2011 2:00 AM

And a particularly evil villain watching our every move. by Kirstenna

She knew it was a bit different to be part of the circus and when one considered what was known in pureblood society about the Melcher family, conventional serious intellectual beings, it seemed even more bizzare for Kirstenna to take part in the greatest show on Earth.

But her father at a young age had snuck away to see the circus perform and fallen in love with it, so much that he had decided to join it upon his graduation from Sonora. Her grandparents had not approved. They still didn't.Never would.

Honestly, what had they expected her father to do though? He was a second son, Uncle Warren would be the one inheriting the school their family had run for generations. Her father had to do something . Her grandparents wouldn't have approved of him just being idle rich. It was just that they didn't approve of what he'd chosen to do instead either.

And, of course,her mother's family had been with the same circus since it was created. Her entire maternal family performed in one capacity or another, except her uncle who was paralyzed in an accident but he worked taking tickets still.

Kirstenna couldn't imagine her life without it. It was in her blood, just like magic was.

Her mouth opened when she realized what Sam had just asked and she blushed slightly. "That sounds great!" The Teppenpaw exclaimed excitedly. "So how do we want to be anti-theme?" Kirstenna asked. She was so happy, Sam had just asked her to the ball. "Dress completely modern? Or even futuristic?" Either way would be super fun.

11 Kirstenna And a particularly evil villain watching our every move. 161 Kirstenna 0 5

Sam

August 27, 2011 1:58 PM

From a dark tower, or it doesn't count. by Sam

…And he’d been taken seriously. Okay, then. He could go along with that. It was all good.

The idea of futuristic, though, just going completely the other way from the theme instead of just staying with their own normal dress clothes, made him laugh. “I can just see the look on Regal’s face if Captain Kirk showed up with Princess Leia,” he said, naming offhand an old Halloween costume he had at home and ignoring Kirstenna’s hair color. Considering his appearance, there was no reason why Leia couldn’t be blonde if she wanted to. A society advanced enough to come up with gigantic space stations surely had something that could be used for effective hair dye, even if the Force wasn’t enough like magic to just Transfigure it.

Actually, though, he had no idea what kind of look would be on the Headmaster’s face. He might be really amused, really surprised, or really ready to stick on a Darth Vader helmet and react in character to their impudence. He’d seemed, on the feast occasions Sam had really noticed him at all, like a cheery enough kinda guy, but there were probably limits to that. If he was really into his history project…eh.

“’Course, I guess part of it’s what we can come up with over midterm,” he said, then realized that wasn’t completely clear. “I mean, like – what kind of clothes we can actually get our hands on.” It felt a little awkward to implicitly acknowledge that his mom had no money, but he shrugged it off. He figured most of the Intermediate class had noticed enough of a difference between how he dressed and how his cousins dressed that, with the fact that Rachel was very blonde, they had concluded that some of the school’s Bauer population wasn’t related.

16 Sam From a dark tower, or it doesn't count. 163 Sam 0 5

Professor Lilac Crosby

It... is alive! [Third, fourth, and fifth years!] by Professor Lilac Crosby

Sara Raines, Pecari

...I don't think I want sentient toys. by Sara Raines, Pecari

Ryan O'Malley, Crotalus

It is? by Ryan O'Malley, Crotalus

Jane Carey, Teppenpaw

I don't really think so by Jane Carey, Teppenpaw

Nic Sawyer, Crotalus

It's the middle, the middle of my story by Nic Sawyer, Crotalus

Ryan

Oh, okay. by Ryan

Jane

I think it's most likely better than the alternative by Jane

Marcus Williams

Why not? They could be fun... by Marcus Williams

Ryan

Agreed by Ryan

Samantha Hamilton

It's the middle of middle by Samantha Hamilton

Sara

Or destroy the Earth. by Sara

Jane

I like agreement by Jane

David Wilkes, Aladren

The important part is, does it hate us? by David Wilkes, Aladren

Ryan

So do I. by Ryan

Autumn Collins, Crotalus

Oh, Merlin, I hope not! by Autumn Collins, Crotalus

Jane

So we agree on agreeing? by Jane

Marcus

There was a movie once like that... by Marcus

Kirstenna Melcher,Teppenpaw

Eeeek! by Kirstenna Melcher,Teppenpaw

David

Me, too. Any ideas for preventing that? by David

Sam Bauer, Crotalus

*Cue dramatic thunder and lightning* by Sam Bauer, Crotalus

Ryan

Um, yes. by Ryan

Kirstenna

And ominous music by Kirstenna

Autumn

No, not really by Autumn

Sam

Gotta have some mountains and black cloaks, too. by Sam

David

Treating it with kindness seems like a good first step. by David

Autumn

Kindness is always good by Autumn

Kirstenna

And maybe some mysterious fog and dark shadows. by Kirstenna

Professor C.

CLASS CLOSED (nm) by Professor C.

Sam

Definitely. by Sam

Kirstenna

And a particularly evil villain watching our every move. by Kirstenna

Sam

From a dark tower, or it doesn't count. by Sam

Cue dramatic thunder and lightning by Sam Bauer, Crotalus