Professor O'Leary

August 10, 2008 4:10 PM
Before class began, Drake walked around the room, whistling, yes, whistling, as he placed a random item on each student’s desk for the lesson he had planned. Every year, immediately following midterm, found Drake to be in the unusual mood of being chipper, which lasted only for about the span of a week. It was mostly due to the fact that during the midterms, he was able to go back to his roots, to his passion for ice-skating, but it was a passion that he gave up long ago, reserved only for certain times.

However, despite his good mood, he was still dressed in his obligatory black robes. He had a set for every single day, preferring them to any other color or style. The ones that he owned were long and flowing, giving his gaunt frame a bit more to it than if he wore something more form fitting. The other positive, at least, a positive to him, about the robes were that they gave him a somewhat menacing appearance. Unfortunately, this seemed to work best on the younger students, as the older ones tended not to be so impressed.

Of course, it made sense that they wouldn’t be, giving their age range. Adolescents tended not to be impressed by anything that an adult did. It was more important to be impressed by their peers and to impress their peers, which made it even more difficult to get through to them the importance of learning defense on top of the fact that many of the students thought they would never need it. When he had been their age, he had been just like them. He had been just like them for years after that until just how far someone would go to win had come into play.

Regardless of whether or not they realized just how valuable what they learned (not just in this class, but in every class) was, he would do his best to provide them with the quality of education they deserved, which meant this class would be more than just idle time to catch up on other classwork or to gossip with friends. As he placed the last item on the last desk, students began to trickle in signaling that class was about to start. Moving to the front of the room, he used his wand to place the following on the board:

Disillusionment Charms

Acclaro Prastigiae – reveal an illusion

Creo Prastigiae – create an illusion


Once this was finished, it appeared that everyone was seated and ready to begin. “Welcome back. I trust you all had a good break and are ready to begin learning once more. Today’s lesson is going to focus on Disillusionment Charms. As the name suggests, these charms are used to create or reveal an illusion. These charms are useful for keeping an object, or if the magic is advanced enough, a person, hidden or to reveal what has been hidden. This differs from what you learned previously with Specialis Revelio, because Specialis Revelio reveals magic hidden within the object whereas Acclaro Prastigiae reveals the object itself. These charms are especially useful for anyone considering being an Auror or a similar career path.” The charms were also useful for any teenager wishing to keep something hidden from roommates, parents, or the obnoxious sibling, but he wasn’t about to state such, even though, it was one of the things he had used the charms for when he was growing up.

“Creo Prastigiae works by casting an illusion over the object, which makes it blend in with its surroundings. To perform the charm, wave your wand, as so,” he said, as he flourished his wand towards his desk,” and state firmly Creo Prastigiae.” With this, his desk seemingly disappeared. After doing so, he did the same thing to demonstrate how to reveal the object using Acclaro Prastigiae. “To practice these charms, I want everyone to divide into groups of two. Each person will cast Creo Prastigiae on the given item. Once both people have successfully accomplished this, I want you to switch items with your partner and attempt to reveal the object using Acclaro Prastigiae. If you have questions, raise your hand and I’ll be around. Otherwise, you may begin.”

OOC: Please remember that posts should be a minimum of ten well-written sentences. Points will be rewarded based on length, detail, etc. Most importantly, be creative and have fun!
Subthreads:
0 Professor O'Leary Lesson II: Third through Fifth Years 0 Professor O'Leary 1 5


Paul Tarwater

August 10, 2008 5:25 PM
Paul was back for Midterm (finally), and feeling physically better at the distance he was now allowed to place between him and Cissy (along with Horace, Jane, and his parents), but waking up got no better. He still had nightmares he couldn’t remember, and he still woke up with some kind of discomforting response to said nightmares. This morning it had been the feeling of bile in his throat (not that he had thrown up, it was more of a lump he’d forced down). Paul also still had a problem with his nerves, having to have one part of his body in constant motion at every second of every day. This made it hard to sleep, as he tossed consistently, and he wouldn’t know if he’d woken those around him up as well.

But other things had gotten better. Paul didn’t have to look around all the time, as if searching for an unknown villain. He had gone back to slumping his shoulders and staring at the ground. Over Midterm, he’d spoken a little more to his parents, to which his mother took gleefully. She’d offered to cut his hair (he refused, telling her he liked his hair long, which was a lie, he hated it, he was just afraid of… change now for some reason). She’d offered to take him shopping for a new outfit for school, instead of old hand-me-downs (again he refused, his old clothes were perfectly fine, they didn’t need to waste money on fancy things). He went back to voicing his opinions on money (though less than he used to), telling his mother the doctor they’d hired for them was a quack and told her to fire the woman.

This was all fine and good, but now he had to report to Professor Yuma at school, and actually try to open up. Paul had promised mommy, and Paul didn’t let mommy down.

He had been walking the halls, and happening to glance at Yuma’s office down one. His jaw set into a nervous clench, and he held tighter to himself under the guise of folded arms. Paul was barely paying attention when he made it to the class he was actually trying to get to, that he nearly tripped over the hem of his oversized black robe. He caught himself, mainly because Paul didn’t want to be seen now as clumsy along with jerk and paranoid and antisocial. If he was alone, Paul would have let himself fall, almost on purpose, then just lay there and slept or something. Sleep didn’t come easy anymore, and if he could just stay still in one spot he was sure he’d feel refreshed and possibly even happier.

Paul picked a seat in the back, clasping his hands together and leaned his head on them, trying to look a little interested. Professor O’Leary did scare the boy like some others, and Paul had taken to trying to make himself invisible to people that scared him. And looking like a normal student and not some rebel should do that, so he hoped. Had this been like his first few years here, Paul would have probably skipped this class, but once again, Mommy Says: “Good grades, please, Paulie.” So Paulie would get good grades, please. Which didn’t mean attention calling.

Lucky for Paul, this lesson seemed fairly interesting. Hiding objects and people with magic, illusions. For a second, Paul smiled, imagining the spell placed on him. No one could see him! He could walk around and be what he wanted, totally invisible. Not even Cissy could find him (he had taken the counterspell completely from his mind).
But there was bad luck with the good lesson, and Paul’s smile disappeared as fast as it had come to him. There was that dreaded word. Partners. Working on an illusion creating (invisibility in Paul’s mind) spell with partners. Once again Paul tensed up and looked down then around, why were so many people overjoyed to do this!? It was pure torture for him (and probably the person he would be working with). Sure he had to get good grades now, but did that really mean he had to actually work with someone?
0 Paul Tarwater Where should I hide? 0 Paul Tarwater 0 5


Echo Elms

August 11, 2008 10:15 PM
It was just last year, Echo reflected as he took the desk next to the perpetually nervous Paul Tarwater, that he would have sat here because he couldn't handle the physical proximity of sitting in the middle of the room. There were too many people. It was too crowded. He'd felt claustrophobic and panicked, and that was no way to learn. Now, he sat back here because he'd found he liked being able to see everyone. When the lecture got slow, he wondered what his classmates secrets were.

Everyone had secrets.

Take Paul for instance. Something made him twitchy and it wasn't Caedance Redoak (Caede made Echo twitchy sometimes). He didn't like people and had trouble talking to people. Echo wondered what his deal was. Last year, when Echo had emotionally bottomed out, Paul had been there. Well, Paul had stumbled upon him in the library and they had run to class together and missed breakfast, but Echo felt they had a bond. Paul had seen him, just for a second, crazed and weak, laughing a choked laugh at the glimmer of hope he'd found for his future. Paul was twitchy. Echo was twitchy. Paul exiled himself to the back of the classroom and avoided people. Echo had done the same thing last year. Paul didn't look entirely healthy and Echo skipped lots of meals last year had been plagued by nightmares.

Paul was a weird kid, but no weirder than Echo sometimes was. The main difference between Echo and Paul, as far as Echo knew, was that Echo had been fortunate enough to have had juice spilled on him at the opening feast by a red haired girl. That one event had determined his entire Sonora experience.

Back to the lesson.

It was to be groups then. Predictable. It was always groups. Echo congratulated himself on sitting in the back where he wouldn't be rubbing too many elbows--there still was a difference between not panicking and being relaxed--and turned to Paul, who seemed to be sinking into his seat the way he usually did when group work was announced.

"Hey Paul," Echo said, grinning and angling his desk until the top corner almost touched Paul's, so they were facing each other in the vaguest way possible. "Ready to make stuff disappear?"
21 Echo Elms Try under the desk. 93 Echo Elms 0 5


Paul

August 13, 2008 3:22 PM
At the thought of partners, Paul’s eyes slid immediately to one of his only friends in the school, that being Danae Dupree. He bit his lip when she dropped her own object and wondered if he should go over there or something. But when he started to straighten up a little bit, he noticed that Echo was already lining with him. Paul’s lips clamped together and his neck grew hot. He’d just started talking to Echo last year, and he supposed he could consider the boy a friend as well. And it seemed rather odd to Paul that the two people he was more comfortable around were both in the house he ranted against most.

Paul gave the boy the best smile he could, still pushing hair from his face so he could see the object before it disappeared (as well as Echo’s face). Paul’s voice was quieter than usual, he still hadn’t been using it much, and so when he spoke to Echo, even though it was just one word, it came out slightly louder than a shaky whisper. “Ready,” he told the boy, and even with the supposed light-hearted-chuckle Paul sounded perpetually nervous.

He pulled his object, an old time camera with no film, close to him and counted it’s blessings lucky. You get to be invisible, he told the camera mentally, then pulled his wand into his hand. His blue eyes flicked up to Echo quickly, wondering why the boy was working with him instead of his closer Pecari friends. He and Paul had worked together before, talked to each other, and Paul guessed he’d actually helped the boy once, but he wasn’t Echo’s closest friend. And Paul didn’t believe he would be candidate for first-pick-partner.

Back to the camera. “Creo Prastigiae,” he commanded the camera’s outer features to disappear with his wand. But his commands were weak, and his camera flickered for a moment like a candle’s flame but it didn’t disappear. Paul’s mouth thinned to grimness. He’d barely ever failed at a spell, and this was a dead first. He placed his wand hand back on the table and used his other to hold up his forehead. But remembering Echo was there, watching, Paul immediately set his hand down and tried to look as if this wasn’t a giant disappointment.

“Oh,” he said, forcing a smile. “Whoops.” Paul felt stupid, more than that he felt hopeless. He had to make this thing go away. “Creo Prastigiae,” he said again more forcefully, sliding his wand down and trying to add more volume to his voice. The flicker lasted longer, and the camera ended up translucent, but it wasn’t completely invisible. His head felt ready to explode when he tried smiling at Echo again. “Erm, how are you doing?” he asked, his face tightening.
0 Paul Cupboards seem better 0 Paul 0 5