Rock to rock to... rock on Transfiguration

Professor Fawcett

August 16, 2009 12:00 AM

Lesson Two for Third, Fourth, and Fifth Years by Professor Fawcett

John Fawcett had something of a grudge against Transfiguration. Many years before, he had opened up his RATS results to see that he had made an E on his Transfig exam, bringing his ambitions to and efforts toward making straight Os to an abrupt and unsatisfying end. From that day forth, the only contact he'd had with the Transfiguration world prior to his return to Sonora as a substitute had been one class in college and the occasional article in Allison's copies of Transfiguration Today.

Unfortunately for him, though, Transfiguration professors at Sonora had a habit of leaving the dust on their boots during their postings. He'd heard rumors that the job was somehow unlucky, or perhaps cursed. The latter idea didn't square with what he knew about curses, but given his actual field of expertise, that only did so much to make John happier about temporarily taking up the position for the second time.

In case there was any confusion (he had, after all, been teaching them all Potions only two weeks before), John had written his name large on the board again, this time with the subtitle Intermediate Transfiguration instead of Intermediate Potions. He also checked over his lesson plans, hoping he wasn't making too much of a muddle of it, and looked up as the students began to trickle in.

"Welcome, welcome...Yes, you're in the right classroom...Welcome..."

Once everyone was in place and the bell had rung, he began his lecture. "Welcome back," he said, briskly for him. "I hope you all had a relaxing midterm, but the time has come to get back to work." He paused. "As Professor Holland has moved on, I will be taking this class until a professor is found." That, he thought, should have been obvious, but it was better to be absolutely clear.

"Before the holidays, you were learning to turn inanimate to animate, but still nonliving, objects. Now we're going to take that and expand on it with multi-layered transfigurations. On your desks, you each have a rock." He had noticed that rocks were frequently used here; he'd been taught most concepts using animals and insects, but understood the students had begun rebelling since then. The year before he had retired, John had written a report about the impact of Muggle social phenomena on American magical society, but hadn't included anything about animal rights. Pity he didn't have time to re-write it... "You'll Transfigure this rock into a crystal plant, which you will then Transfigure into a living plant."

Which sounded hideously difficult and, in the beginning, often was. He vividly remembered a similar lesson from his own school days, and the recollection was enough for him to wonder if having a ban on rocks in class might be advisable. The year's top couple had almost uncoupled after the girlfriend had concussed the boyfriend with her rock after he managed the spell first. "To do this, you first swish your wand like so - " he demonstrated it - "and tap the rock while saying Adfectio Crystali."

The rock in front of him morphed into a replica of an ivy. John had to work not to smile at the mental image of his father's face if he'd seen that. "To complete the process, you tap the crystal and twirl your wand in four anti-clockwise circles while saying Adfectio Floris." The plant appeared to come to life. "This is not a permanent transfiguration, but it should last at least a minute. You may collaborate, but each of you will need to produce a plant of some variety by the end of the class period to receive full credit for the lesson. You may begin."

Subthreads:

Maybe this will go better than Lesson One by Holly Greer with Amelia Smythe, Amelia

Acting out of character; *TAG Cecily!* by Ian Grimm with Cecily Smythe

Rock to rock to... rock by Oliver Abbott with Grayson Wright, Oliver

Re: Lesson Two for Third, Fourth, and Fifth Years by Thomas Fitzgerald

0 Professor Fawcett Lesson Two for Third, Fourth, and Fifth Years 0 Professor Fawcett 1 5

Holly Greer

August 17, 2009 6:47 PM

Maybe this will go better than Lesson One by Holly Greer

In the overall grand scheme of things, Holly liked Transfiguration. At least, she didn't dislike it most of the time. In her muggle school, she had decided which classes she liked by how good she was at them. Here, at Sonora, her standards had changed. Now, she liked classes that were not disgusting or frightening. Most days, Transfiguration was neither of those, so even though she wasn't particularly good at it, she still liked it.

Today's lesson proved both points. She was pleased to learn they'd be making plants out of rocks. She had no objections to either plants or rocks, and she even had a slight prefence toward the plant, so she was quite happy to do the transfiguration as assigned.

Her skills, however, would be sorely tested in the attempt, and if this proved as difficult as the clock last term, she might end up with a very pretty plant, but not neccessarily a living plant.

The first part, though, she was fairly confident she could handle. Holly pictured the potted plant that sat on her mother's kitchen table, swished her wand, tapped it on her rock, and cast clearly, "Adfectio Crystali."

On her desk, the rock grew, changed shape, and crystalized to a clear glass working of a single potted orchid.

Pleased with that part, Holly took a deep breath, pictured her mother's orchid in greater detail, trying to recall the colors and textures. She tapped the glass sculpture and circled her wand counter clockwise four times. "Adfectio Floris!"

This time, the flower turned purple, the leaves and stem turned green, and the pot turned white, but it remained shiny and transparent. She touched one of the petals gingerly with her finger and the whole plant, including the base began to tip and slide across the desk. She quickly took her finger away and let it right itself back onto its pot.

She sighed heavily, and remarked to nobody in particular, "So, I guess I have a very nice stained glass flower." In about it minute it would probably revert back to its rock form and she'd try the spells again then, but for now she just planned to admire how pretty it was.

1 Holly Greer Maybe this will go better than Lesson One 123 Holly Greer 0 5

Ian Grimm

August 20, 2009 1:45 PM

Acting out of character; TAG Cecily! by Ian Grimm

Ian Grimm found himself smiling far too easily of late. The phenomenon occurred, without his instruction, and would persist, until a mirror in passing would snarkily remark on the rare occurrence, and he would promptly fix the expression into something more natural, like a frown or scowl. The unfortunate (and undesired) habit was leaving him annoyed and frustrated, and already three times that day, he had also found himself drifting into something shockingly similar to daydreaming- a past-time he most certainly did not engage in purposely. It was bothersome enough that by the time he stalked into his Transfiguration classroom, noting that once again there had been a switch pulled on the professor- it seemed Professor Fawcett was the party favorite- his temper had reached a fine pitch.

And he rather preferred Transfiguration to his other classes; it had a sturdy practicality to it that appealed to his nature.

He was pleased to find a rock was being used, though. If he should feel the need to destroy something, rocks were rather good for it.

But once the class was opened for the assignment (He wasn't entirely won over by the lesson; why would he ever want to create plant that lasted for only a minute?) Ian found himself, once again, compelled into an action that was beyond his control. First his eyes, squinting without the addition of his lenses, sought out the fourth year brunette, purposely passing over the fourth year's younger and certainly less sophisticated sister; although, admittedly, Amelia was one of the more tolerable girls in his year. Once he found the Crotalus in question, he grabbed his book bag, re-pocketed his wand, and moved the entirety of himself (and parcels) to her side. He deposited his bag in an emptied seat beside her, and quite abruptly, charged into a greeting.

"Cecily. We can work together." He felt a strangeness around his lips and realized that once again he was smiling unintentionally; he tried to straighten the expression rather unsuccessfully. "What sort of plants do you like?"

The question came equally as unwillingly, and briefly, Ian wondered whether he perhaps suffering from some strange disease that made him ask things he didn't care about and act upon compulsions he knew there was no way he had.

0 Ian Grimm Acting out of character; *TAG Cecily!* 110 Ian Grimm 0 5

Cecily Smythe

August 20, 2009 6:10 PM

What did I do to deserve this? by Cecily Smythe

Already weary even in the first week back of classes, Cecily had applied extra mascara that morning to make her eyes seem wider than they really were. She had small eyes anyway - they needed all the help they could get. The tedium of the day was made worse by there being transfiguration, and worse again by its being taught by Professor Fawcett. Cecily had nothing against their substitute in principal, it was just his unpredictable yet unfailing presence that bored her.

As for the content of the assignment, Cecily didn't object too strongly. Rocks were better to transfigure than mice (Cecily would rather just keep the creature on most occasions) though not realy pleasing on the eye. However, crystals and flowers were aesthetically acceptable, and for once Cecily was content with the work. She'd put her satchel neatly under the table and raised her wand to begin the spell when she was distracted by the seat next to her being taken up without warning. Not only was it that weird Grimm boy who spent unhealthy amounts of time with Amelia (and vice versa), but he seemed to think they could be partners. "If you like," Cecily said, in a voice lightly coated with sardonicism. She politely made room for him by shifting her book over.

Though she hadn't spent much time with Ian, Cecily had hear a lot about him. It seemed as though Amelia spent more time with this yearmate than any other, which concerned Cecily somewhat. True enough, her sister was not so fortunate as to have the plethora of suitable friends in her year that Cecily enjoyed, but she could do better than Ian Grimm, surely. The Headmistress' daughter would be a marked improvement. The only occasion Cecily had seen Ian outside of school was when he'd accompanied Amelia to a family ball, and he'd been as impolite, out of spirits and generally unapproachable as usual. Now he was asking about flowers. He was very peculiar. "I like orchids," she replied with a slight frown.

0 Cecily Smythe What did I do to deserve this? 122 Cecily Smythe 0 5

Amelia Smythe

August 22, 2009 7:11 AM

Practise makes perfect by Amelia Smythe

The dull thing about transfiguration was that Amelia found it far easier than popular opinion would demand of the subject. Therefore her efforts to appear of only average intelligence and more than normally flippant was becoming increasingly difficult with every class. Though a social creature by nature, Amelia was often forced to work on her own during transfiguration classes, to lesson the possibility someone would notice she might have been better placed in Aladren. She couldn't help it that the magic came naturally to her and that words written on a page automatically made good sense, just the same that Cecily couldn't help the opposite. It was lucky for both sisters that in their opinion looks and breeding mattered a great deal more than a passing grade, and in those respects each was happy with her lot.

Today Professor Substitute was back taking the class. It wasn't a bad class, either - no instestines to be worried about. Amelia also understood that he wasn't really teaching them to turn crytal flowers into real flowers, but preparing them for creating living things further on in their curriculum, and that almost sounded like fun. For the time being, Amelia stared at her rock, and hoped that this lesson proved to be as challenging as it sounded.

"Adfection Crystali," she cast, and as the words left her lips the rock transformed beautifully into a large, flat sunflower head. It was a shame they had to progress to the next stage, really, because Amelia could appreciate the beauty in a crystal flower. It could be an ornament, or made smaller and used as jewelry. A real sunflower would only die once cut from its stem, and wasn't all that attractive in floral terms to begin with. Yet she needed to get the class over with, so Amelia rose her wand to move on, when Holly, sitting next to her, made a comment. Pausing in her own work, Amelia looked over at the glass-looking flower.

"Look on the positive side," she said. "You can make rather fetching centre-pieces." With a small chuckle to herself, it occurred to Amelia that Holly was rarely found on her own - she was usually accompanied by that boy from the Pecari play or one of the other fourth year girls. Where was Cecily, anyway? Looking ahead towards the front of the class (Cecily seemed to think seating nearer to the teacher made a better impression), Amelia spotted her sister with - with Ian? "Why is Ian talking to Cecily?" she queried out loud.

0 Amelia Smythe Practise makes perfect 121 Amelia Smythe 0 5

Oliver Abbott

August 24, 2009 12:23 PM

Rock to rock to... rock by Oliver Abbott

Transfiguration seemed actually to be getting easier. In a year that climaxed with important examinations, was that a good or a bad thing? Oliver wasn't sure; maybe it was just that they were sharing so many classes with the fourth and third years that it felt as though accomplishing new tasks was easier. After all, it was bound to take the younger kids longer to grasp a concept than their older, more experienced counter-parts. That was usually the case, anyway - Oliver had noted a couple of occasions when the underclassmen had showed him up, but they were few and far between. He was just pleased he didn't share any classes with Charlie - she was bound to point out each and every time Oliver took his time in learning a spell. Thankfully, they were just far enough apart in years that they didn't ever have a class together. It was bliss.

Well, bliss in some fashion. Classes still had to be attended, assignments completed, and all the rest of it. On that topic, today they were doing two-part transfigurations. Truth be told, Oliver sometimes missed the good old days when they'd had to transfigure beetles and mice and other small creatures. All this 'cruelty to animals' stuff had stopped that train right in its tracks. If no harm was caused to the creatures than what was all the fuss about? It was like vegetarianism: Oliver didn't get it. What he did get was that they had the class to produce a satisfactory flower. Seriously, though, that was a bit feminine for Oliver's tastes. He could manage some sort of leafy plant, like a vine, for example. Petals weren't really his thing. Eventually the blond settled on a shamrock (that would count, right?) and moved the rock to the centre of his desk in preparation.

After a short breath, Oliver muttered the incantation, Adfectio crystali. Essentially, turning a rock into crystal was just turning it into another sort of rock. Essentially. If the main component was silica to start with then chemical structures weren't even altered all that much. Frowning, and vaguely wondering at which point he'd learned so much, Oliver watched his rock reshaped itself into a comically large shamrock. It was certainly more glittery than before, but it was not crystal by any stretch of the imagination. That and its size aside, Oliver considered it a fairly decent first attempt. It was supposed to be a hard class, or so he'd heard.

0 Oliver Abbott Rock to rock to... rock 99 Oliver Abbott 0 5

Holly Greer

August 25, 2009 12:37 PM

That's the theory I keep hearing. by Holly Greer

At the compliment coming from her side, Holly turned to grace Amelia Smythe with a smile. She had also been of the opinion that the glass orchid would make a fetching center-piece. If only it would last for more than a minute, of course.

Her attention was turned from the flower to a pair working a few rows up ahead of them. What was Cecily doing with Ian? It was a good question.

Then Holly remembered a conversation during a History lesson that had almost slipped her mind. Her eyes widened. "Oh! Ian's sweet on her." She leaned forward in her chair, though it did nothing to help her better overhear the conversation between them. "He might be trying to figure out if she'd say yes if he asked her to the dance next year. I meant to talk to her about that before he got the chance." Holly winced a little and looked guilty. "It completely slipped my mind."

Just then, her flower reverted back to a rock, and she frowned at the sudden lack of a pretty and fetching center-piece on her desk. Intent on correcting that, she hurriedly cast the two spells in quick succession. "Adfectio Crystali. Adfectio Floris."

This time, the orchid on her desk looked much like the last one had, but the colors were more vibrant, and the glass it was made of appeared a little less transparent. Holly nodded in approval. Much better than the rock.

1 Holly Greer That's the theory I keep hearing. 123 Holly Greer 0 5

Amelia

August 30, 2009 11:51 AM

You think we're being lied to? by Amelia

One moment Amelia was contemplating completing the next stage of the transfiguration; the next she was blinking at Holly. Had she just heard correctly? Ian was sweet on Cecily? Holly was still talking. "Uh-huh," Amelia automatically replied, not paying a huge deal of attention - she was too busy trying to work out what might actually be going on. Ian couldn't really like Cecily like that, could he?

Hold up a moment. Why was this a big deal? Though Amelia knew why. Ian's her friend. He's a grumpy, arrogant, short-sighted twerp, and he liked to spend time with her, Amelia, not with Cecily. She was sure the two of them had barely spoken before now. How could he even - but wait, that wasn't the point, either. Why did Holly know this and Amelia didn't? Was it foolish of her to have believed this would be the sort of thing Ian could talk to her about? Or did the fact that it was Cecily make the difference there.

Amelia frowned, and looked down to see her sunflower was a rock again. She frowned some more. "Ian never said anything," Amelia commented to Holly, and she noticed her voice sounded a little hurt. "I mean," she said, forcing herself to sounded more vibrant, "I had no idea. Adfecto Crystali. Has he said anything to her yet?"

0 Amelia You think we're being lied to? 0 Amelia 0 5

Holly

August 31, 2009 11:27 AM

I suspect that might be the case. by Holly

Holly shrugged, and took a moment to admire Amelia's glass flower before answering the question. "Cecily hasn't mentioned it to me, so I think this," she made a vague wave like gesture toward the pair sitting a couple rows in front of them, "is probably the first he's talked to her. I'd almost forgotten about him asking all those questions about her during History last term. We were supposed to be talking about ourselves, but he kept pumping me for information about Cecily instead."

Holly shrugged and added as if hers was the only conclusion possible, "He was obviously crushing on her." She frowned down at her own brightly colored glass orchid and bit her lower lip. She felt bad for not getting the warning to her friend in time. "I really did mean to mention this to her." Looking back at Amelia, she asked, "Do you suppose his attentions are welcome or unwelcome? He's not really as fine as Raoul, is he?" She was very doubtful that anyone could be as fine as Raoul, but she sometimes had trouble keeping track of which magical families were considered respectable at any given time.

It was much easier in the muggle world. If you were rich or famous, or your parents were, and you showed some sign of culture and breeding, you were golden. Who your great-grandfather married eons ago, or what scandalous thing your third cousin once removed did last week were all quite inconsequential. Scandal, in Hollywood, seemed to be the norm, not the exception.

1 Holly I suspect that might be the case. 123 Holly 0 5

Grayson Wright

August 31, 2009 9:06 PM

Better than rock to rock to lava. by Grayson Wright

On his first full day back at Sonora, Gray felt tired and irritable and not at all enthused about the idea of leaving Aladren and going through the motions of attending classes, paying attention to them, and being borderline social. With Anne not speaking to him at first and then feeling too guilty about it later to inflict her indecent-before-two-in-the-afternoon levels of manic energy on him at six in the morning, he had become quite accustomed to sleeping in over the break and enjoyed it immensely. The only compensation school had to offer was that Thomas, unlike Anne, could stop talking a bit longer than it took to take a drink of a fancy coffee drink, and as Gray had long since acquired the skills needed to tune her out when she got on too much of a roll, he found the absence of his cousin’s continual chatter insufficient payment for a lost morning’s sleep.

His mood was not improved by the spectacle of Professor Fawcett in the Transfiguration classroom. Gray liked the wondersub as well as anyone, but he was starting to wonder if the reason Transfiguration got such a bad reputation wasn’t because of its actual difficulty, but because of the constant changes in instructors and methods.

As the lesson began, he scrawled down the basic idea of the theory, a pair of incantations, and the attendant wand movements and then began to comb Anne’s old notes for multi-layered transfigurations. Once the heading presented itself to him, he had to stifle a groan; there were a few diagrams, some notes that seemed copied straight from the book, and a long list of swearwords written under a subheading, ‘Difficulty Level’. Some of them, he noted with (strictly professional; he was an author wannabe, after all) interest, he had never heard of; either it had been the fashion to curse in code back then, or Anne had found no oaths up to the task of expressing her feelings and had coped by just making some up. His doom seemed just as certain either way, though.

The first part, at least, didn’t look too terribly difficult; he felt fairly confident that rocks and crystals were fairly similar, and the most similar things were the easiest to Transfigure. The only part he wasn’t sure about was why they had to bother doing that before making it turn into an actual plant, though that was easily chalked up to an introduction to a concept that was simple and fairly pointless at the moment but would assume tremendous importance later on, when a law of the universe made turning Thing A into Thing B before turning it into Thing C necessary. He took out his wand and pointed it at the rock, a picture of a mum – basically the only kind of flower that his mother, who was no Herbologist, had yet to kill – fixing itself firmly in his head as he said, “Adfectio Crystali.”

To his surprise, the first stage of the operation went off without a hitch. The rock morphed smoothly into what he had pictured, right up to the presence of the pot. It only occurred to him belatedly that a pot might make Stage Two that much more difficult, but it was just a bit too late to fix it, and besides, he had no idea how to picture a fairly accurate root system in his head and would probably produce a mum with grass roots or something if he tried. Gray was hardly a big Herbologist himself.

Nor, apparently, was he fabulous at complex wand movements. This was hardly a surprise to him – even after half a year of Quidditch, Gray knew he was still firmly counted in the ranks of the uncoordinated – but he did think it was a little much to drop his wand more times in the attempt than he needed to twirl it for the stupid spell. When he finally managed to get it going, he realized at the last moment that his circles, which were more like rough, choppy squares anyway, were all clockwise, not counterclockwise. He froze, sure it was going to explode.

It didn’t. After a moment of processing that, he looked up cautiously, almost daring to hope for the best-case scenario – that nothing at all had changed about the model. His reserve on the subject proved, sadly, to be very well-founded, though; instead of exploding, the crystal mum appeared to be melting.

With a startled exclamation, he pointed his wand back at what would be a mess in a matter of seconds and performed the Freezing Charm. It was the only thing he could think of to stop the thing from turning into a puddle and possibly burning through the desk. That spell worked the way he thought it was supposed to, and Gray knew a brief moment of relief before, apparently not up to going from melting to frozen solid in a matter of seconds, the now-malformed statue did what he’d figured it would do before and broke apart in what seemed like slow motion. One piece hit the bottom of his glasses, putting a crack in the left lens and a wince on his face as Gray pictured, in an unfortunate amount of detail, what it would have done to his eye if he’d been able to see. Two more slid off the desk, and another shot across onto the next desk.

“Sorry,” he said, quickly and quietly, while groping for his glasses. At least it hadn’t been a loud, dramatic, attention-getting explosion like the one he’d feared; since he thought he knew a bit of the principles behind why it had done that, he decided to assume that he’d accidentally done something to slow it up. Accidental magic was hardly uncommon for members of his family even in adulthood; the third night of his midterm had, in fact, been the occasion of Anne setting her bureau on fire after she got it into her head that a Latin exam went badly. She had never seemed to prevent bad things from happening, but then, she also smashed up things when she did stay in control during one of her tempers. He didn't have issues with anger management. Getting his glasses off without damaging them further, he held them up an inch from his nose; it was the only way he could see clearly enough to get the tip of his wand against the broken lens. “Reparo,” he said, and the lens, mercifully, mended. He shoved his glasses back on and whispered out a Summoning Charm to get the pieces of rock back.

“Really,” he added to the blond boy whose work he had disturbed. “Sorry about that. Make sure your circles are anti-clockwise, or it’ll melt and a Freezing Charm will make it explode.” He said all of this very fast before looking hopelessly at the ruins of his work, which had – almost tauntingly – reverted to rock. “Should I try to Repair it, or go get another one?”

16 Grayson Wright Better than rock to rock to lava. 113 Grayson Wright 0 5

Amelia

September 11, 2009 10:06 AM

I feel such a fool by Amelia

If Ian had only been asking questions about her, Amelia would have suspected he had an ulterior motive; merely asking questions would have put Amelia at ease. Being nosey (and creepy) was what Ian did best. However, the fact that he was actually talking to Cecily was disturbing. It really did suggest that what Holly had said was true.

"Definitely not as fine as Raoul," Amelia agreed. Holly's boyfriend (they were together, right?) was easily the better looking of the two, though Ian's dry wit very almost made up for that. Though probably not from Cecily's point of view - she didn't really value wit. As to whether Ian's attentions were welcome or not... "It's difficult to tell," Amelia considered out loud. "Cecily could do better than Ian - I think she was hoping for a big name and plenty of scandal amongst the distant relations - but a Grimm wouldn't be too bad; one of our second cousins married a Grimm descendent, I think. Or something," Amelia tailed off; details of who'd married who had never been her forte. "But then this is Cecily - it could go to ways." Amelia was vaguely aware that her crystal flower had turned itself, once again, into a rock as she continued to neglect it. "She could either perceive any attention as good attention," - and this was Cecily, one of the world's most renowned attention seekers - "or she could realise that Ian is a year younger, short-sighted, arrogant and not a Dupree." Amelia shrugged her shoulders. "Only time will tell."

Amelia was rather interested in the outcome. What if her sister did accept Ian's attentions? Then what? Would she have to spend all her time with arguably her best friend listengin to him go on about her sister? Yuk. And no way - Cecily was always taking things that belonged to Amelia. Cecily had loads of friends. What was Ian playing at?

0 Amelia I feel such a fool 0 Amelia 0 5

Oliver

September 11, 2009 10:28 AM

Exploding lava at that by Oliver

Oliver cancelled his spell, realising that a badly transfigured crystal would never make a satisfactory plant. With a touch more concentration, he cast the spell again, this time going for a vine of ivy, as there was obviously far too much rock for one leaf, vis a vis his shamrock. This time the rockwarped and twisted into a pretty decent-looking crytsal representation of an ivy vine. The leaves were a tad mis-shapen and the crystal was dull, but nevertheless it was certainly a passable attempt.

Moments later, the passable attempt was in several pieces smashed on the floor. A voice next to him apologised, and Oliver frowned at Grayson Wright, a younger Aladren he'd never had much cause to speak to. His attempt had gone far wrong - melted and then exploded, in fact. At least he hadn't set it on fire. "Yeah, following the instructions often helps," Oliver teased the younger student. In all fairness, if Oliver's attempt had melted, he might have tried freezing it, too, so he didn't pick on that part of the explanation.

"I think you should try a new rock," Oliver said decidedly. "If you could grab me one while you're at it..." Oliver gestured to his shattered crystal on the floor - bits of it were turning back to small pieces of broken stone. Oliver didn't sound especially upset, and that's because he wasn't, really. This was a magic school - stuff exploded all the time. Usually not in transfiguration, but there was a first time for everything.

0 Oliver Exploding lava at that 0 Oliver 0 5

Thomas Fitzgerald

September 19, 2009 12:50 AM

Re: Lesson Two for Third, Fourth, and Fifth Years by Thomas Fitzgerald

All customary day trips to the cemetery aside, Thomas had enjoyed a relatively good midterm. His father and grandfather had both been a little long-winded on occasion, and a few month’s separation hadn’t done much for Aunt Aurora’s relative normalcy, but Aunt Ava and the rest of his mother’s family had been pleased to learn he’d made the Quidditch team (Thomas had seen no need to tell them that there had been zero competition, though he thought his mother suspected; Aunt Ava, her twin, definitely wasn’t one, but he still sometimes had an awful feeling that Ivy Fitzgerald was secretly a Legilimens), and a few good presents had come in. His nose was still frequently buried deep in one of them; his favorite cousin Savannah had found a study comparing Potions to Muggle chemistry, and it was very interesting.

He didn’t think it was interesting enough to have made him go into the wrong classroom, though, which was why it was a relief when Professor Fawcett informed him he’d come into the right one when, as soon as he realized he was seeing the wrong sub for Transfiguration, he proceeded to stand in the door and look around in mild confusion. Thanking the professor with a nod and a grin, he sat down and pulled out his wand for the lesson.

As class got underway, though, he wasn’t at all disposed to grin. It was more like disposed to grimace and stick his eyeballs to the face of his watch with a Permanent Sticking Charm so he wouldn’t miss the exact moment it was acceptable to pack up. He wasn’t that bad at Transfiguration, even thought he might continue taking it, but it had proven difficult for him to master inanimate-to-animate spells – he couldn’t quite get his mind to work right with the idea that he’d no need to understand how the parts that made things animate worked.

In a (probably vain) effort to improve his chances and (only a small bit more effectively; he was a fast reader) minimize the time he had to make a fool of himself in public, he reread the theory, both from the chapter they had been studying before midterm and the one he was eighty-eight percent sure they were on now, though it was hard to be confident when, in the absence of a proper teacher, they didn’t have much of a syllabus. He reread the latter portion more slowly once he finished, managing on the whole to kill all of fifteen minutes. With one last mournful, slightly desperate glance at his watch, he turned his focus to his rock.

Fifteen minutes after that, the best he could say was that, unlike his roommate, at least his rock was still intact. He’d gotten through that first spell after a few tries, but no matter what he did with the next one, he remained stuck with a stubbornly crystalline cactus that kept, after a few minutes, reverting to a rock, obliging him to start it all over again. As difficult as they were supposed to be, there were still times when Thomas couldn’t wait to start working with Permanent Transfiguration…

0 Thomas Fitzgerald Re: Lesson Two for Third, Fourth, and Fifth Years 109 Thomas Fitzgerald 0 5