I prefer the old world usually on Charms

Professor Light

April 07, 2012 11:11 AM

A Whole New World {Intermediate} by Professor Light

Caesar spread his arms, azure robes rippling down his tall frame, smiling brightly through his thin hazel beard at the incoming third, fourth, and fifth years. “Welcome back from summer!” He walked around the large turkish prayer rug he’d gotten from his journey to Istanbul, visiting Italian cousins who’d settled there. “Please hand me your essays,” Over the summer they’d been instructed to write a fifteen hundred word essay on parchment comparing the various forms of magical transportation and taking a stance on which they believed was the most efficient method, the safest, and which was easiest to perform or create. “and your extra credit if you did it.” A simple creative piece or memoir about the summer they’d spent. “Good to see you all.” He continued smiling, past tortures flooding his memory, delighting his mind.

“Now we’re going to get right into work, a project that will consume most of the semester.” Caesar dumped the essays handed to him on his desk, briefly counting them to see if he’d gathered everyone’s. Sometimes it almost disappointed him that everyone at Sonora seemed like such good students. No one to do battle with, argue against, a fallen student he as the shining professor could lift up and save. And no detentions to serve, that was the biggest bummer of all. “Over the summer you should have all included magic carpets as a form of transportation. Can anybody list for me some of the types of charms needed to create one?” He waited for his students to list Levitation charms, Navigation charms, and Weight Capacity before nodding and moving on. “Okay, good. Everyone, gather around the carpet. There’s enough room for us all.”

The classroom had always been sizeable, but seemed nearly endless with the adjustments made specifically for the intermediate class. The posters of favored Italian Quidditch and California Quodpot players had remained, flying in and out of neighboring scenery, as well as the picture of Caesar parents in one photograph and his sister Ava Marie in another. The book shelves had been raised off the floor, however, lining most of the classroom walls, stretched out to compensate for the levels of shelf missing underneath. The semi-circle of wooden stairs and seats made to look like a seminar had also been temporarily removed, leaving the classroom with light streaming through the windows, and posters of his favorite wizard bands nodding to the beat of music only they could hear. The floor was now free to breathe, save for the shoes covering the students’ feet, Caesar’s desk, and the nine by thirteen turkish prayer rug laid to rest on the ground.

“This course will cover all methods of transportation. By the end of the year I hope to have you all making portkeys. We’re going to be starting with carpets, which remains the preferred method of flying in the East despite the increasing westernization there with the European companies attempting to export their brooms.” He looked fondly on the carpet he’d bought. Besides the vivid vision of red and gold patterns that twisted, curved, curled to paint a picture, tell a story, it also held the hands of the women who’d made it, and the bright smile and exuberant hand motions of the man who’d sold it, and it held the hot mediterranean sun that Caesar had hid from, leaning against cold stone and drinking apple tea with newfound Turkish friends and merchants who were patient with him, patting his shoulder and helping him to enjoy the process of finding the perfect carpet.

“Third years, you’re going to be responsible for casting one of the levitation charms. This is more than a simple wingardium leviosa.” He flicked his wand at one of the shelves, a silent Accio bringing a small empty dish into his free hand. “Proficiscor!” He made the shape of a crescent moon, starting with the top and then curving down and then a sharp drag down the air as if the moon had a string pulling it at the bottom. There was a flash of violet light and then Caesar pulled his hand away. The dish began to fall. Inches before crashing, Caesar parted his lips. “Ascend!” The dish ceased its fall, rotating above the ground, as if caught in space. “The carpet will not lift off the ground until you proclaim the key word. To cast the spell correctly - fourth and fifth years step away for a moment - to cast the spell correctly, I want the third years to group around each corner of the carpet. Good.” He repeated the crescent motion with a sharp downward drag, and then the pronunciation of the charm, Pro - fik - is - core. “You must keep in your mind the code we will use. It is important that you all keep the same code, Ascend. It could be any word of course, it could be beans or chocolate or something completely nonsensical. As long as the word is connected to the spell. We shall use Ascend.”

“Fourth years, you shall work on weight capacity. We need the carpet to be able to hold all of us without collapsing. Today you will learn Fulcit vestis which is a spell specific to carpets or rugs, blankets, or any garment.” Caesar stepped between students and pointed his wand at the rug. “Simply point, your arm must be straight and locked, very stiff. You will feel something akin to... I’d say a shudder. Maybe a ripple going through your body. Very mild, nothing dangerous, it shouldn’t hurt although it is common for inexperienced wizards to feel a little drained after casting the spell a few times.” He indicated dishes of candy squeezed comfortably between books on his shelves. “Take a break, take a chocolate if you need to. It will help immensely.” He resumed his position. “Spread your feet apart, take a strong stance, bend your legs. This charm borrows our strength, mimics it, gives it to the rug, and then returns what it has copied back to our bodies. It is an odd sensation. Fulcit vestis!” Blue light streamed from his wand tip, a ripple of invisible energy passing from Caesar into the wood, through the light, into the rug. Something like a black bruise appeared on the rug where Caesar’s spell had hit it, appeared visible for a few seconds, and then disappeared. “If that bruise doesn’t appear then the spell hasn’t worked, hasn’t strengthened the rug. Go around, mindful of your neighboring third years, and practice the spell on your own spots of carpet.”

He turned to his oldest students. “Fifth years, you are in charge of navigation for today. Ideally we’ll all be able to take a ride, and when we do I want us to have the ability to steer. Before we can steer, the carpet needs to understand the concept of direction. So we must teach it.” He rolled back his sleeves, and summoned the still rotating dish to him again, stepping away from the third and fourth years gathered around the rug. “Cast Septentrionalis on the northern side,” He pointed, a portrait of his favorite philosopher Dalia Torrez grinning on the wall. “Austellus on the southern side,” He pointed, Arizona light pouring from the window. “Vesper on the west and Ortus on the east.” He directed them to both. “The wand motion is the same for all. A clockwise circle,” He demonstrated. “State the incantation and then counterclockwise circle. Septentrionalis!” The rotating dish stopped still in the air, blue light pulsing around it before seemingly absorbed. “Austellus!” Orange light pulsing, absorbing, done. “Vesper!” Purple light pulsing, absorbing, done. “Ortus!” Green light pulsing, absorbing, done. “Any questions?” He raised his voice for the class. “Alright, get to it!” He began to walk around the class, ready to offer his assistance to anybody who needed it. ‘Another fun year. Welcome back, all.’

ooc: Since there are no assigned partnerships and everybody’s just walking around, feel free to post as if this were a quidditch thread, with everybody contributing and interacting with whom they would like so long as you are clear where you are and when. And without having to wait for posting order, just reply and post when you can. Any questions IC or OOC just tag Caesar, remember to write your house so I know whom to give points to, and have fun!

Subthreads:

Snakes on a plane by Sullivan Quincy, Pecari with Jhonice Trevear - Pecari, Sullivan Quincy, Sully

That's Where I Am by Maximilian Joshua McLachlan with Renée Errant {Crotalus}

I prefer the old world usually by Fae Sinclair, Crotalus with Arnold Carey, Aladren, Fae

Yay! Let’s explore! by Katrina (Kitty) McLevy - Aladren

Sounds frightening. by Valerie Lennox, Crotalus

Fine with me. I need out of this one. by Ryan O'Malley, Crotalus

0 Professor Light A Whole New World {Intermediate} 0 Professor Light 1 5

Sullivan Quincy, Pecari

April 07, 2012 6:20 PM

Snakes on a plane by Sullivan Quincy, Pecari

Sullivan was not an ideal student on the best of days. Returning after a long summer, barely able to remember a simple wingardium leviosa (no, really, he'd tried to use it last night to put away some of his things, but he'd forgotten the second word of the spell and had to look it up), the third year Pecari had little hope of excelling in today's class.

When he was asked to turn in an essay as soon as he arrived, it got worse. He had totally forgotten about the assignment. He scrawled out a quick statement about magical transportation as they were being collected with his name at the top and a single sentence ("Flying wagons and are more uncomfortable than brooms but hold more people.") as his 'essay' and hoped he'd get maybe a Dreadful instead of the guaranteed Troll for not turning in anything. He doubted it, though.

Especially since that one sentence hadn't mentioned magic carpets, and Professor Light seemed to have expected them to bring up magic carpets. Even given more time and words, Sully wasn't convinced he would have thought of them. He'd really only run into flying wagons and brooms so far. He'd heard about portkeys and floo powder, in a vague sort of way, too, so he probably would have gotten around to mentioning them at some point, but until just now, he had thought magic carpets were just something Disney made up when they animated Aladdin.

He kept his hand down as they were quizzed about the types of charms that went into creating one, though he felt kind of dumb when someone said levitation charms because now that he knew that was one of the answers it seemed obvious. He didn't feel as bad about not knowing the other two.

Sully reluctantly moved in around the flying carpet when everyone was instructed to do so. He really wasn't good with flying things. He'd pulled an A in Flying Lessons, but that wasn't saying a lot. It just meant he had managed not to crash and die while making a tedious and ungainly trek from one end of the Pitch to the other and back. Even if Jhonice hadn't been on the Pecari team already, Quidditch was not in his future.

He was glad there were a fair number of other third years in the class, because he was sure if levitation was solely up to him, the rug would never leave the ground. He really wished it was just a simple wingardium leviosa because he could do that one, most of the time, when he remembered the words for it.

A more complicated one that required him to think of a different word entirely while saying freaky latin words at the same time seemed well beyond his capacity. Still, he wasn't stupid enough to make a fuss about it, and tried to remember what he was supposed to say and think.

Unfortunately, he lost track of the latin word while the professor went through what the older kids were supposed to do. It started with the letter p, he was sure of that.

So when they were told to start, Sully sort of half listened to what the other third years were saying and then joined in with crescent-like sweep of his wand and a shout of "Prosthetics!" and all the while he thought, *Up!* because his brain had translated the more difficult English word to a simpler one and he had spent most of his first year shouting that at brooms to get the same desired effect.

The bit of carpet he was aiming at didn't so much as lift its fringe a little.

0 Sullivan Quincy, Pecari Snakes on a plane 0 Sullivan Quincy, Pecari 0 5

Jhonice Trevear - Pecari

April 07, 2012 7:00 PM

...and Bugs on a Carpet? by Jhonice Trevear - Pecari

Jhonice had naturally arrived for Charms class early. She had learned however, if she got into the classroom first everyone else would decide where they wanted to sit relative to her, instead of her deciding where she wanted to sit relative to them. So, she waited in the hallway, causally hidden and watched the other students arrive. She had been debating if it was time to enter herself, after all if she waited to long all of her options would be gone, when she spotted Sullivan. She grinned to herself and discretely followed him into the classroom.

She handed in her essay when the teacher asked. It had been an interesting exercise, and more thought provoking that she had initially thought. There were quite a few details to take into account. For example a broom was much more quiet and stealthy for more covert and long-term surveillance operations, while the portkey wasn't much good for following a subject but made for an excellent escape method should you be detected. The flying wagons were much to noisy for most applications, except for trapping your subject for a long-term interview that they could not escape from. There were many more points along these lines, and she was sure that Professor Light would appreciate her analysis.

As the professor directed the students she scribbled a quick few notes as to what they were doing, then looked around for Sullivan again. He had moved to one corner of the carpet, so naturally she moved to the same corner and gave him a large, friendly smile. She then turned to the carpet, “Proficiscor!” she commanded while mimicking Professor Light's wand motion and keeping the command word 'ascend' in her mind. She was rewarded with a similar, but not quite as bright, flash of violet light.

Charms was a great class, she was already getting some ideas for how she could use this one in particular. Sully seemed to be having some difficulty, the clever Pierce, trying to feign incompetence to strengthen the charade of his lineage. She would play this round with him, she would show him that he couldn't hide from her. "I think your pronunciation is a little off, try it again."

2 Jhonice Trevear - Pecari ...and Bugs on a Carpet? 209 Jhonice Trevear - Pecari 0 5

Maximilian Joshua McLachlan

April 07, 2012 10:22 PM

That's Where I Am by Maximilian Joshua McLachlan

Classes had finally begun and Josh was looking forward to Charms; to any class, really. He was at a new school aiming to do well in his studies like he had before. He had been at the top of his class back at The New Zealand Academy of Magic; he aimed for the same here. He packed his things, encouraged by the prospect of having a distraction from his thoughts about his situation, and slung his bookbag over his shoulder and made his way down the corridor.

The fourth-year had arrived at class early and he took a seat in the back. Quiet with an aura of distrust around him, he didn't like to talk to people voluntarily and found it hard to trust people. As a McLachlan, he had been exposed to hardships nearly all of his life, beginning at six months old. The McLachlans themselves, no matter where they were located, were known for their dark magic. Several times, quick cover-ups had to be made for relatives, and other times, relatives "disappeared" after doing a horrible deed either against the family or by becoming the weakest link and refusing to be strengthened. That was part of the reason why Josh was back in America and going to school here. The fact that he wasn't out of school yet had saved him, so he liked to believe.

Five minutes into his brooding, class finally started and Josh readily paid attention, his sharp grey eyes intentionally appraising his professor as he appraised everyone. He didn't have the essay everyone else did as he had just been accepted to Sonora only a month and a half ago. He felt the loss sharply and he kept his face carefully blank as always. He would make it up. He always found a way to. During the rest of the lecture, he did as he was told; he was good at that. He stood at the edge of the carpet but towards the back of the crowd, hands in the pockets of his robes, looking over the heads of the younger ones.

When he and the rest of the fourth-years received their task, he was ready to do it. He took his wand out of his pocket; 13", red oak, phoenix feather. He had a very personal attachment to his wand; it had been, and still was, the only constant in his life besides his intelligence. It was something he could use to control other things, such as his magic. His wand had become, as for most other wizards and witches, an extension of himself.

When he approached the carpet in order to charm it, the spell in his head, he pointed his wand at the carpet and did exactly what the professor had instructed them. He took these lessons very seriously. He stood as he would during a duel, except became much stiffer. In a duel, one had to be pliant, flexible; now, he imagined his arm becoming a rock and traveling down to his entire body.

"Fulcit vestis." He felt the shiver, felt the magic travel through his body and watched his wand emit a blue light similar to the one Professor Light's wand had produced. A bruise appeared on the carpet and Josh relaxed, rolling his neck. The ripple that had gone through his body was uncomfortable and slightly unpleasant the first time around. However, he felt more than capable to continue doing this spell and he was determined to be the top of his classes again. Determination required a strong will and plenty of magic, and he had an abundance of both. Taking his stance once again, he uttered the charm quietly, but confidently, "Fulcit vestis." His wand understood and emit the blue light once again towards the carpet.

19 Maximilian Joshua McLachlan That's Where I Am 184 Maximilian Joshua McLachlan 0 5

Maximilian Joshua McLachlan

April 07, 2012 10:23 PM

OOC: [Aladren] (nm) by Maximilian Joshua McLachlan

19 Maximilian Joshua McLachlan OOC: [Aladren] (nm) 184 Maximilian Joshua McLachlan 0 5

Renée Errant {Crotalus}

April 07, 2012 11:50 PM

How are you liking it? by Renée Errant {Crotalus}

“Hello, Professor.” Renée smiled at Professor Light, heart thudding a little erratically in her chest, face flushing beneath the thick coat of sun layering her darkened skin. She’d labored over both the essay and creative writing piece she’d prepared for him, rewriting the essay three times before she’d deemed her cursive acceptable to his hazel eyes. Along with brooms, floo powder, portkeys, magically enhanced automobiles, magic carpets, and magical creatures, she’d added a time-turner and wrote that out of all the transportation techniques, an object that could enable one to travel as many times as they wanted without losing any time had to be the most efficient use of travel. She was hoping for bonus points on that one, or at least some sort of extra acknowledgement from the professor, public or otherwise. The creative writing piece she’d written was a short memoir of her time spent with her father’s muggle family in Brooklyn and about learning about the different religions muggles held, the warmth she felt singing the hebrew prayers even though she was singing it to a God she held no faith in.

She idly wondered if it was possible Professor Light was muslim, stepping at his instruction toward the edge of the prayer rug spread along the room. Her dark eyes reflected the red and gold hues, tilting her head to discern what the pattern made. She’d become fascinated with details, finding clues within color and numbers. It kept her occupied, distracted her from whatever looks she seemed to earn inadvertently from her fellow students. “Weight capacity,” She raised her hand even as she spoke the answer, lowering it again as the professor moved on with his lesson. Weight had been a slight issue last year, the rapid amounts of food she was used to consuming finally catching up with her slowing metabolism and the muscles that lined her stomach and arms bulging in her body and making her look bigger than she’d been comfortable with. The weight had finally settled, however, distributing itself in new areas, her body curving beneath the robes wrapped around and tied with a string that made it slightly more form fitting.

She stepped away from the carpet and waited with the other fifth years for their instructions. The fourth year’s spell looked interesting. She imagined herself in such a strong stance; wand raised and eyes narrowed, jaw clenched but insults ready to slip past her parted lips in defiance against her enemy. The world, often, seemed to be her enemy. Professor Light finished instructing the third and fourth years and turned to Renée and the rest. She shifted in her stance, eager to get started. “Sep... ten... tri... on... alis.” She repeated his pronunciation. “Septentrionalis.” She rounded the carpet, placing herself on the northern end, reaching for her curls, falling past her shoulder, approaching waist length, and gathered them into a ponytail, letting it relax in a wild heap down her front over her shoulder. She tugged her right gold earring free from a stray curl wrapped around it and reached for her wand, drawing it out from her robe’s pocket.

“Septentrionalis!” No flash of blue light. Renée shook her head, rueful smile playing on her lips. ‘Wand motion, duh.’ She made a clockwise circle in the air, then moved counterclockwise. “Septentrionalis!” She stumbled a little on Sep - ten-t-t- trionalis, but a flash of blue-shaded white light emitted from her wand tip and the carpet seemed to absorb it. She bit her lip, looking up to see if Professor Light noted her improvement. People were moving around the carpet. Renée stepped to the side, bumping into somebody’s back. “Oh,” Her forehead creased, dark brow raising in confused curiosity. No intermediate should have looked unfamiliar to her. “pardon.” She turned from the boy and prepared another spell, softly murmuring the syllables beneath her breath before she prepared to try again. “Septentrionalis!” A light laughter of triumph, the white flash of light shaded with a brighter hue of blue. Nearly there.

0 Renée Errant {Crotalus} How are you liking it? 0 Renée Errant {Crotalus} 0 5

Fae Sinclair, Crotalus

April 08, 2012 11:09 AM

I prefer the old world usually by Fae Sinclair, Crotalus

Fae was not necessarily a fan of the Charms Professor as she was with Professor Brockert because his methods of teaching were peculiar and not always something she honestly believed to be the best thing, but she enjoyed Charms and often feigned like of him just because this was one of her top performing classes. So, with this thought in mind, Fae greeted Professor Light with a smile and a ‘Good Morning’ before looking around the classroom… or what was left of it. Fae internally sighed. If this lesson was how she thought it would be, there was no way for her to have a private chat with Sara like she had planned. Instead, Fae found her friend and in a whisper said, “I need to have a talk with you, we’ll set something up.” Before wandering back into the throngs of students.

In the middle of the room laid a carpet and Fae wasn’t sure what to make of it. She knew that they were learning ways of transportation, but she wasn’t sure why they needed to practice this with a carpet. She had done her essay at the beginning of summer along with the extra credit and all her other assignments because her mother hadn’t wanted school work to impede on social events and family gatherings. She knew from the assignment that Flying Carpets were a form of transportation in places like India, but it was not here in America, so she did not see the purpose of learning how to make one fly. Fae’s choice of transportation had been through Floo. The powder wasn’t difficult to make or come by as her tutor had explained and could bring you to any fireplace connected within the limits of the country. For traveling over oceans, Fae had said portkeys were best. They allowed for multiple people travel without any real harm and portkeys were a spell that could be learned with time. Now, Fae knew most people would probably think Apparation to be the best form of travel, but Fae had heard horror stories about Apparation. It was a difficult form of magic and could lead to serious harm. After Shelby had turned 17, she had begun her studies into it and had nearly scared herself into not doing it out of fear of splinching. However, she had passed the examination without trouble. It was enough for Fae to question the need for it.

That was neither here nor there, really. It was clear that the Professor thought that carpet flying was an important way of travel. To Fae, it was like brooms. Pointless unless you’re playing a game. In America, brooms were not the best way of travel unless it was down the road of a magical town. America was far too populated with Muggles that if one were to see someone flying on a broom, the Salem Witch Trials would begin again. Also, traveling by broom (or, in this case, carpet), it did not protect against the elements. Fae was from Connecticut, it became very cold at night and snow was always a possibility. A year ago, most of Connecticut had shut down because of a random Hurricane that had hit off the coast. The best forms of travel were the fasted like portkeys and floo.

She listened intently to the professor as he explained their lesson for the day. This seemed far more complicated than it should have been. Why only have one carpet? Shouldn’t there be smaller groups to a specified carpet? That way, the students would know for sure if they’re spell mattered? Being grouped and packed onto a standard sized carpet didn’t make terrible sense to Fae, but there wasn’t anything for her to do about it. She watched Professor Light intently as he worked on their spell. Arm stiff and completely straight, feet apart, bend legs, and then spell. She closed her eyes and repeated these steps in her head, blocking out any further discussion the Professor had for the fifth years. Only when he dismissed them for the lesson did Fae open her eyes to return to the chaos of the classroom. Taking a deep breath, straightened her wand arm, locking it into place, spreading her feet apart and bending her knees, Fae spoke the spell calmly and watched as blue light shot from her wand and into the carpet.

The professor wasn’t lying when he said that there would be a feeling while doing the spell. The shudder or ripple effect felt odd to Fae, almost as though she were doing the spell wrong, despite the fact that a bruise formed on the carpet. By the third spell, Fae felt so weak that she nearly fell. However, instead of falling to the floor, being cramped next to people, Fae ended up knocking into the person beside her. “Oh, pardon me! I’m so sorry.” Fae felt like this was a ritual for her. Every lesson where anything physical may occur, Fae ended up tripping or knocking into someone. It was inevitable, but she always felt embarrassed by it. And, this time, lightheaded as well.

0 Fae Sinclair, Crotalus I prefer the old world usually 0 Fae Sinclair, Crotalus 0 5

Josh McLachlan

April 09, 2012 7:20 PM

It's all right... by Josh McLachlan

Josh was about to perform the spell once again when someone bumped into him and disturbed his form and concentration. He turned to look at the person and heard a girl say, "Pardon." She had looked confused on seeing him, and he understood that it was because he was unfamiliar. After four years, one was bound to recognize a face despite the fact that they didn't speak.

His grey eyes had lingered on her for longer than he realized as he watched her turn away and perform her spell. She was a fifth year evident by the different spell. However, she didn't seem to be mastering the spell quite yet. He wasn't as adept in charms as he was in potions so he couldn't exactly give her advice on what to do better. He was better at taking care of his own spells anyway.

He turned back to the matter at hand and stiffened his body once more. "Fulcit vestis." The blue light hit the carpet once again, leaving a fleeting bruise-colored spot before disappearing. He performed the spell once more before he suddenly felt a bit tired. It was probably one of the side-effects of performing an unfamiliar charm too often. He took a breath and decided to take a short break.

Josh looked over at the fifth-year girl again and watched her perform her spell again, wondering what he could do now. He hated not being occupied by something during class. He looked away from the girl and went to the bowl of sweets. He delicately picked up a chocolate and unwrapped it and popped it into his mouth. As he chewed, he gave off a brooding aura as he scanned the room of people, memorizing faces and expressions; it was something he was good at.

0 Josh McLachlan It's all right... 0 Josh McLachlan 0 5

Sullivan Quincy

April 09, 2012 9:15 PM

Scorpions might be more interesting by Sullivan Quincy

Sully jumped a little when he realized Jhonice had taken a position near by. His eyes widened and darted around but there was nowhere to hide. He was stuck. Worse, she had seen his less than stellar attempt to levitate the carpet. At least she had pointed out what he'd done wrong, though his pronunciation would have been his first guess anyway.

Unfortunately, he still didn't know exactly what it was that he was supposed to be saying. He was going to have to ask someone for help and Jhon was the most obvious candidate.

Well, he had tried to keep things civil at the Fair last year with her, when he'd been presenting Henrietta and trying to demonstrate he was a good trainer in the hopes of winning the Hippogriff raising competition. Today, he could try something similar in hopes of passing the lesson.

So he swallowed his pride and asked, "What was the spell word again? I forgot."

1 Sullivan Quincy Scorpions might be more interesting 207 Sullivan Quincy 0 5

Arnold Carey, Aladren

April 09, 2012 10:34 PM

But there's always the rest of the time by Arnold Carey, Aladren

It was the first day of classes, and already Arnold’s tie had just proven itself not up to the challenge of making it from breakfast to supper, instead finding its way somehow to a comfortable spot in his bag while he rummaged through the rest of it in an increasingly frantic search for his homework. He had Arthur had done their summer work the first three weekends they were home, side by side at a table in the library just like they were every Saturday at school, and Arnold had even done the extra credit right away and without complaining because the combined disapproval of his mother and his twin if he had so much as suggested taking the easy route would have been, he’d known instinctively, too much to take, but now he couldn’t find either of the papers, neither of which he’d thought about for at least a month. It was the first day of classes, and he was already seeing his chances of a good year going up in smoke….

…Until, anyway, his brother materialized without warning, as he had what even Arnold, when he wasn’t paying attention enough to know Arthur was approaching, found to be an occasionally unnerving habit of doing, by his side and dropped the two scrolls in front of him. “Looking for these?” Arthur asked mildly, squinting good-naturedly at Arnold around his reading glasses.

Arnold felt relief wash over him as though he’d just swum out into a pool of it, a very cool pool in very hot weather. “Where did you find them?” he asked, clutching the scrolls protectively for a moment before reminding himself that they were not exactly the Deathly Hallows and loosening his grip enough to hold them normally.

Arthur gave him a strange, almost suspicious look, as though he thought Arnold was trying to be funny in some way he found utterly incomprehensible and was afraid might be directed against him. “I kept them all summer,” he said slowly. “So they couldn’t get lost.”

Arnold stared at him for a second. “You could have told me,” he said finally, his tone full of exasperation.

Arthur just shrugged, though Arnold was good enough, unlike, he’d noticed, most other people, at interpreting the small changes in his twin’s expressions to tell that Arthur was slightly embarrassed by the mess. “I thought I did,” he said, then promptly wandered off. They didn’t sit or work together often in classes, to avoid seeming either standoffish or just accidentally leaving other people out of the conversation. Their mother said they were proof that twins really did communicate a bit differently than normal siblings, and Arnold knew that they did sometimes, especially in a pressured situation like working under the deadline of a class period, drop non-essential talking. It just took longer, sometimes, even though they knew Mother thought it was weird and Anthony found it annoying.

Arnold, for now, didn’t use any form of communication, instead just handing in his work without further comment. He had his homework and his extra credit assignment with its loving descriptions of the time he’d spent in the air – indeed, once Arthur and Terry and Mother all went over the first draft, he’d even managed to work in the theme of transportation and what he’d learned about it writing his essay, which was mostly about how there was no single best form of transportation when Apparition was quick but brooms were more fun and safer, too, if all you were doing was going to Uncle Donnie’s and the carriage was necessary for many proper events – so he guessed it didn’t really matter anyway. He knew Arthur had meant well, too, which helped, even if he was still a little annoyed.

He didn’t make many comments, mental or otherwise, during the lesson, because for some reason, he came out of the speech from the professor without much of a clear picture of what was going on, just the knowledge that he was theoretically supposed to be capable of making a Portkey by the end of the year and the none-too-confident idea that the years had different spells to cast on the would-be giant flying carpet. Had his attention wandered at some crucial moment, or had he heard everything but just as promptly forgotten it because he was having a dim day, or had the lesson just been hard to follow? Or was it some combination of them all? His bet was that the setup had something to do with it, with him already being distracted with thoughts about his homework and then being crowded, standing up, with so many other people during a long speech with a lot that wasn’t applicable to him in it, but it was impossible to say, but the safest option seemed to him to be to lurk and try to figure out by watching everyone else what was going on.

With that thought in mind, Arnold slipped behind some other fourth years and watched to see what happened with them, seeing another benefit to not, despite having grown a good bit since first year, being anything close to tall. He had always admitted it was great for being a Seeker – getting taller last year had worried him a lot because he’d thought he’d lose his edge; he had yet to work out if that had been it, or if thinking it had thrown him off – but this worked, too, since he got to lay low without, as long as he had his wand in his hand, it being immediately apparent he wasn’t doing anything and didn’t even know what he was supposed to be doing, really. The only problem was that with three years worth of people all saying their incantations and moving around, he wasn’t getting much further with the issue of picking up on what he’d missed.

He just thought he had the words he was supposed to be using, or at least some words, when suddenly, or so it seemed to him, Fae stumbled into him. He caught his balance automatically and her arm nearly as much so, even though she didn’t really seem too likely to fall down in this crowd. They fit on the rug, that was true, but not very well.

“Not at all,” he said, feeling better now that he was in a situation he knew how to handle, more or less, even as he was a bit concerned for her right now. “Are you all right, Miss Fae? Did someone bump into you?” He had never had Arthur’s interest in what their mother and great uncle specialized in, but he did know it was probably a good idea to sort out if she was fainting or had been pushed before doing anything else.

0 Arnold Carey, Aladren But there's always the rest of the time 181 Arnold Carey, Aladren 0 5

Jhonice

April 10, 2012 8:56 PM

So, Sully supports scorpions? by Jhonice

Oh... he was being really clever now. Sullivan was trying to get information out of her very subtly, pretending to not know what was going on just to put her to the test. Well, she could play that game as well. Jhonice smiled and accentuated each syllable of the magical command for him, "Proficiscor. The trick is to keep the command word 'ascend' locked solidly in your mind while you say it." She tapped her index finger gently against his forehead. "The spell won't work otherwise, especially if a few of these spells are being cast in conjunction. They all need to match."

Jhonice thought about leaving it there, but then she pressed her advantage. "Did you get a chance to review some of these charms over summer? There are some really interesting things that you can do with charms." She had done quite a bit of research over the summer while working on her essay and trying to figure out all the different uses for traveling charms. Now, what had he been up to over the summer? Secret Pierce meetings no doubt.

2 Jhonice So, Sully supports scorpions? 209 Jhonice 0 5

Derry the Fourth, Tepp

April 10, 2012 8:59 PM

I'm dubbing this the 'meet the new kid' thread by Derry the Fourth, Tepp

Derry's essay was nothing to write home about. It had, after all, been written at home during a rather monumental summer. He'd given a brief mention to each of the major modes of transportation - brooms, apperation, portkeys, floo, carpets, the Sonora wagons, and walking - and stated the most efficient was apperation since that could be done on command with little preparation and little time passing, but that the wagons were probably safest since that's what the school used to transport all their students around the country and he'd never heard of a wagon splinching itself.

The extra credit was written less for the extra credit and more because Hamlet made him keep a journal anyway. He figured he may as well turn it in for a second grading since he'd already written it and get a jump of his Charms grade. He could usually maintain a low E average, but if he forgot a homework later in the year, it would be good to have a bubble already.

He passed in both the essay and the journal. The journal was only a couple of pages. Hamlet wasn't around as much to make him write now that Derry wasn't living on the mountain any more. Hamlet haunted the family not the house, but he said he didn't like the city as much as the open forest. Derry wasn't sure where he was going to end up when he grew up, but he was thinking maybe further from the city limits than the rest of the Boston Pierces were now. Hamlet had raised him more than Father ever had, and Derry wanted him to be comfortable when he visited. Well, as comfortable as a ghost could be.

Derry listened through the lecture, for the most part (he did tune it out a little while Professor Light went through the third and fifth year parts), and took down the notes about what the fourth years were doing so he wouldn't forget. He didn't expect to have too much trouble with the charm. He wasn't in any danger of threatening the Careys or the other Aladrens for top of the class, but he was pretty intuitive when it came to Charms. He could generally get them working within the first two or three tries.

The first try worked well enough. A small bruise appeared on the carpet and a shudder went through him. The second try worked even better and left him feeling exhausted. His arms shook and his legs felt a little wobbly.

Having earned his chocolate, Derry left his spot beside the carpet and headed over to the side of the room where the Professor had said there was candy. He waited while somebody he didn't know collected one, then took his own turn grabbing a candy bar. Then he realized he'd seen somebody he didn't know.

He did a double take. There was a person he didn't know. "Hi," he greeted. "I'm Derry Four. I don't think we've met." He gave a little tap against his House badge then unwrapped his chocolate as he added, "I'm a Teppenpaw, in fourth year."

He took a bite of the candy bar and started feeling the exhaustion lift almost immediately. "Wow, that worked better than I thought it would."

1 Derry the Fourth, Tepp I'm dubbing this the 'meet the new kid' thread 189 Derry the Fourth, Tepp 0 5