And now for those darn RATS! on Cascade Hall

Headmistress Kijewski-Jareau

December 14, 2012 7:36 PM

And now for those darn RATS! by Headmistress Kijewski-Jareau

Today was the first day of the Ridiculously Anal Testing of Skills exams. Also known as the R.A.T.S. examinations. Much like the C.A.T.S. examinations had fifth years on anxiety reducing potions, the R.A.T.S. examinations had many of the Seventh years wishing they could simply go to sleep and wake up four days from now with the R.A.T.S. exams long completed. These examinations determined if the last seven years of learning had been worth it. Passing as many exams as possible meant more opportunities with careers for the students ,whether that mean going off to University for further education or beginning an internship/apprenticeship in a specific field of expertise.

Like every year before, there were three examiners waiting impatiently for the students to be ready to begin the three days of exams. Like last year, instead of Bernard Starsky, the oldest of the examiners, to be there waiting, it was Nanette Langdon. Bernard had retired after the last exam for the C.A.T.S., Nanette had agreed to replace him. She had a fierce look to her caused by her straight back posture, so tight bun that her face was pulled back, and the pinched up look on her face as though she was constantly smelling something foul. Beyond that, she had such sharp hard features that only matched her hard cold eyes that anyone who was unlucky enough to have her as their examiner might feel as though she was going out of her way to fail them.

David Weatherby was another familiar face as he had been at the school the previous week to assist with the CATS examinations. He was the one examiner that everyone hoped to have. He was tough with his questions, but fair on the overall results of the answers. The third examiner was probably a new face for the students unless they happened to be paying attention to the guests the last couple of years. Aurora Septentrion was a fresh look next to Nanette Langdon. Her blonde hair let loose on her shoulders was a stark contrast to the tight dark bun that Nanette wore. Although Aurora did not smile, her blue eyes were friendly and open rather than cold and opposing. Of course, being petite and pretty should persuade students into thinking she was a push over. Aurora took her responsibilities seriously and could sometime be a bit ruthless if necessary.

The mornings where the theoretical examinations were to take place, students were asked to quickly take their seats while the anti-cheating quills were presented to each of them. Examination books and parchments were faced down on desks and only allowed to be flipped once the examinations have begun. Langdon addressed the students in her crisp voice, “We have cast spells to prevent any cheating. Those who are caught will immediately be failed and removed from the room. Anyone who completes the examination prior to the end of the alluded time will remain seated and quiet out of respect to their peers.” Nanette made sure her seriousness of the situation was made clear as she looked at each student before continuing. “You may begin.”

In the afternoons when the practical examinations happened, students would wait outside of the Cascade Hall until their names were called. Once called, they would enter the Hall and make their way over to where the Examiner was awaiting them. The examiner would ask them to perform certain spells or create a certain potion. Once the student had completed each task, they were free to leave.

OOC: Theoretical (written) exams are in the morning and practical exams are in the afternoons. Mandatory classes are covered the first couple of days while electives are handled on the final day. You are free to write for your examiner and choose the one you would like to work with. Have fun!

0 Headmistress Kijewski-Jareau And now for those darn RATS! 0 Headmistress Kijewski-Jareau 1 5

Jane Carey

December 15, 2012 12:05 AM

I thought they were dratted RATS by Jane Carey

Many of her peers might have been dreaming about sleepwalking through the week and awaking to grades they didn’t remember earning, but Jane actually took her seat in the radically redecorated Cascade Hall with a little bit of enthusiasm. She supposed it might have been different for her if the stakes had been higher, but she didn’t really think that it would have been. Exams were simple; exams were sometimes even fun. She didn’t have anything to fear from an exam.

This particular exam was special, because while she might polish off a few more tutored courses over the summer, the RATS were really her last dance with academia, at least as a formally recognized participant. Not for the first time, she felt a wispy feeling of regret, that she hadn’t been born a boy, but she didn’t dwell on it. There was no point to that, and besides, not only did boys have their own problems – her poor brother was the world’s best demonstration of that – but she was also sure she would find some way to keep herself in mental shape around being married anyway. Such unimportant people as Mr. and Mrs. Jethro Smythe couldn’t be expected to host many parties if they even had much of a space to host them in, and even if they were, she could read at night. Sleep was…less necessary than some medical professionals might have thought, at least for her, now. Her case wasn’t as bad as Edmond’s, but she hadn’t slept terribly well since her third year, either, especially in winter.

Some girls, she knew, would have been very upset at the thought of marrying Jethro, her idiot second cousins first among them. Those girls didn’t realize that a smart, ambitious, prominent husband was the best way possible to slam the gate on any scraps of independence that they wished to continue to possess. Besides, such people were usually not the most agreeable sorts anyway, and she certainly felt no need for ambition, of a certain kind, anyway, in her life in any form. Social status was what you made of it.

She was going to miss learning being her primary occupation, though.

The first written test was easy; she went through it without losing her confidence, only frowning a few times, tapping the end of her quill very softly against the parchment as she thought, looking for some half-forgotten bit of trivia which would nicely embellish a point. These papers, to her, were like painting by numbers; they were all smoke and mirrors, a mockery of really doing something, and it was really just a matter of putting on the show she knew the examiners would want to see. That was something she was very good at; even better than her brother, if she did say so herself. He spoke more languages, but in the end, she was still better at certain things involving their mutual first language.

It was amusing, but not very useful. Painting from a model was better, and from her own head was even better than that, though those tended to be a little…strange, in the end. She was counting on that, along with Jethro’s style not to have changed too much in the past two years. Between them, she thought they ought to be able to disturb anyone they particularly did not want to come back around for tea again.

After lunch, which she ate one-handed while looking over a long list of incantations she had written up from her notes over the past week, she prepared herself for the practical exam and was not displeased when she got Professor Septentrion. She made a small curtsy. “Shall we?” she asked with a smile.

Afterward, she had a glass of water – dehydration was one of the leading causes of tired feelings – and then sat down with three sheets of blank parchment to write to the important people in her life.

Edmond,

RATS began today. Septentrion was my examiner for the practical half. You were right, these aren’t very bad at all. Not after all the practical applications we’ve seen over our holidays over the years.

It’s still very strange to think that in just a few days, I’ll be out of school forever. I don’t really know what to do with myself when I think of how soon everything will be completely different. Of course it already is, with you being away so much, but I can not think about that so much when I’m here. Not having that to do is going to be a challenge.

How are you? Egypt is closer than Thailand, and yet I think I hear from you less now than I did when you were further away. It’s no fair, you learning all that and not sharing. I read what I can get my hands on, but there’s no substitute for really being there, learning the things they don’t write down in library books. I hope you write to Father more often than you do to me; I know he’s the one who said you ought to go away in the first place, but now that you’re gone, he worries all the time about you, I’ve seen him. I hope I see you soon, sometime over the summer.

Love you,

Jane

Once she was satisfied that that one said things the way she wanted them said, or at least enough for her to move on and worry about revising it later, she folded it up and took out another sheet of parchment, for another letter. Instead of writing it, though, she looked at the wall of the Teppenpaw common room for a long time, then put her writing case away altogether, deciding to leave off writing to Jethro and her father until later. Right now, what she really wanted was something with chocolate in it. It helped with the sadness that sometimes swept over her after she wrote to Edmond.

0 Jane Carey I thought they were dratted RATS 160 Jane Carey 0 5

Jane

December 16, 2012 7:04 PM

With apologies to the Smythes by Jane

As her name was called for the practical half of her Defense Against the Dark Arts exam, Jane felt the first moment of anxiety she’d had about any portion of the RATS and hesitated very briefly before standing up from where she’d been reciting the characteristics of hinkypunks to herself. It could just be hinkypunks, she told herself firmly, annoyed with herself for the moment of cowardice, as she walked forward. It could be.

She reached her examiner, today David Weatherby, and smiled as she made the small curtsy she had decided would be the best way to greet examiners when she had to. “I’m Jane Carey,” she said. “Good day, Mr. Weatherby.”

“Good day,” he replied pleasantly. Jane liked that in a person. She liked, too, how if he knew she was a Carey or thought it was a little unusual for a pureblood girl to take Advanced Defense Against the Dark Art, he didn’t show it. The examiners were all very good, as far as she could tell, when it came to not giving that kind of thing away. That made her wonder all the more if they thought about it. She thought she would have had to think about the backgrounds of students where she knew or could suspect anything about them, but then, she had never been in any danger of becoming an examiner. She had no idea how someone who was might think, except as it related to how professors in general thought. “This way, please, Miss Carey.”

She looked around the exam area quickly as she entered it, but didn’t see anything she thought was definitely out of place, except maybe how long the cloth over a table was, or really confirmed that the thing she least wanted to deal with was going to be part of the exam. She was asked to perform a number of spells, which she did, each exactly as her textbooks said that spell should be done, with no flair or excess whatsoever that she could control, trying to keep from even hinting at having a style. She wasn’t sure if he thought so or not, but did interpret the little nod she got as a sign that she was doing well so far.

In spite of that, she was in the middle of identifying some Dark Detectors when she began to feel tired, even though she had slept well during the night and had not really strained herself during the written exam in the morning. Shrugging, she tried to ignore it, began to grow irritated. She was given instructions about demonstrating some countercurses, and began to wonder what the point of these silly tests were, even if she could do them, which she wondered if she could.

She didn’t really know something was wrong, though, until she began to think about – of all things – her mother. And to feel like something was behind her, watching her –

Jane finished taking the curse off of a pointed purple crystal and then turned quickly, her wand in her hand. Just at the edge of the long tablecloth, next to one leg of the table, she saw what looked like a good-sized rock.

“Stupefy,” she snapped, and the pogrebin tumbled forward, part of its body unfolding from where it had been crouching beneath its head. The atmosphere seemed to lighten a little at once, though she remained flushed, her eyes bright with annoyance. The nature of the exams aside, she thought that was a low trick, making her do other things while a pogrebin was behind her; it hadn’t had time to do what it would have, of course, but still. It was a low trick indeed to put something secretly into an exam which existed to make people become overwhelmed by the futility of all existence.

Mr. Weatherby calmly made a mark on his clipboard. “Very good, Miss Carey,” he said.

“Thank you, sir,” Jane said, trying to keep her tone as respectful and neutral as possible and not quite managing it. “Hexes or kicking would have worked as well,” she added. “If I had given it several hours to drive me to my knees.”

That got her another mark. She hoped it was for providing more information than was required instead of for sounding angry.

“Now for the last thing in today’s exam,” Mr. Weatherby said, and used his wand to move a large trunk out from beneath the table. It rocked back and forth a bit even as Jane tensed. This was what she had been most afraid of in this exam, short of actually having to duel an opponent instead of just demonstrating the spells in the abstract. She had hoped this wouldn’t be in her exam. She supposed that was what she got for hoping.

She tried to concentrate on being angry instead of afraid. They had planned to put her up against a boggart while a pogrebin was behind her. That was more than a low trick, that was just a dirty one. She should be angry about that. Perhaps that was why her mouth felt dry, with anger. Maybe.

“When I open this trunk, you’ll need to fight the creature within,” he instructed her. Jane nodded, trying to think fast. Think of something, she told herself. Think of something else, something that’s not real. They’re stupid. If you’ve got some silly little thing on your mind that worries you, they’ll see that on the top layer of it and that will be what they are. Try to think of something else, something else…

“Correct identification of the creature will also earn you points,” Mr. Weatherby went on. “Ready?”

Jane forced a smile and another nod. “Yes, sir,” she said.

He opened the trunk. A moment later, Cynthia Smythe stepped out of it.

“I’m moving your father dead in,” she announced, and though Jane felt her stomach twist itself into a knot when she realized half of that was about her father being dead and her finding it out from someone else, she tried to see the bright side, where she had confused it at least a little by focusing on her worry that her future sister-in-law might someday announce she was moving in with Jane and Jethro. “Permanently,” Cynthia added.

Jane tried very hard to imagine something funny, and exclaimed, “Riddikulus!

Cynthia’s hair was replaced by a ridiculous, garishly red wig nearly two feet tall, and she immediately slipped on a beanbag and fell. The wig rolled off her head, and Jane laughed, banishing the boggart.

She took a second to compose herself – the image really had been funny, when she focused on that rather than on the facts of the situation – before turning back to Mr. Weatherby. “Boggart,” she said.

“A very interesting boggart,” Mr. Weatherby said, his mouth twitching. She didn’t think he would know who Cynthia was, or what Jane had come up with there, so she was right that someone in a two-foot wig slipping and then losing the wig was just funny. “Congratulations, Miss Carey. Full marks.”

Jane didn’t know if that meant on the task or on the exam, but she was happy either way, and cordial enough as she said goodbye to him and went to have her post-exam glass of water, and this time an apple with it. Then she sat down and wrote a letter to her fiancé.

Dear Jethro,

This week I am taking my RATS. I just finished my Defense Against the Dark Arts exam, and my examiner, Mr. Weatherby, said I did a very good job on my exam. I think I have done well on all of my exams, and I’m very happy about that. I hope you’ve had a nice week so far, too.

Everyone here at Sonora is getting ready for the bonfire, even though we do not have much to do. Most people are very interested in who they will share a tent with. I suppose I will stay in a tent with the other seventh year girls for old times’ sake. I am not very interested in the tents like most of the other students are, so instead of talking about that very much, I am working on another painting. I think you’ll like the painting; I’ll show it to you the next time I see you.

I hope you’re well, and your family. Please give your parents and Cynthia my most respectful greetings.

Sincerely,

Jane

0 Jane With apologies to the Smythes 0 Jane 0 5