Quillan Arcadius
February 21, 2023 5:47 PM
Conversation two by Quillan Arcadius
OOC: This isn't too far into term as I doubt Quillan would have got very far in before a) crashing and b) adults around him communicating. BIC:
It had been a couple of weeks since Quillan's first visit to Professor Wright's office. In many respects, school was going well. In practical classes, he easily kept up or even surpassed his classmates. He had turned all his homework in on time and in a legible state. He had avoided revealing the difficulties he had to his classmates, either by fudging his way through or by using one of his well-tested excuses, such as forgetting his glasses. Even reading, when done in private, was relatively painless thanks to the enchantments his tutor had placed on his books.
On the downside, he felt rather tired. School involved being his best self at all times, or perhaps even better than best, seeing as he had to hide the things he couldn't do in order to protect himself from bad opinions. At home, everything had been adapted so that he could get through class without being tripped up by his own limitations. School wasn't like that, and he never knew when a teacher was blythly going to throw a worksheet at him with no real understanding of quite how badly it was going to ruin his day.
That lack of knowledge on their part was one of the reasons he was here. The extended reading they'd been given for Transfiguration was another. The way he felt constantly on edge about what would happen in his day was a third. He was doing okay at making friends his own age, but he needed an adult who was on his side too. And Ms. Faulk had said she would be writing to his teachers, which would mean they would find out anyway. It was just his choice which of them it came from.
He knocked on the door, feeling an eerie sense of familiarity as he was called in. Just like last time... Would Professor Wright be surprised to see him again? Annoyed? Was Quillan asking too much? But he took a seat without suffering any indication of annoyance from his Head of House.
"I..." he began, and then found all his carefully prepared, noble and mature speeches drying up in his throat. "I'm struggling," he said, and as if that word wasn't humiliating enough, he found that tears were springing to the corners of his eyes. He could recycle Ms. Faulk's carefully taught lines about learning in different ways but although it made it sound nicer it didn't stop it crushing down on him like a rock. "It's different being in a class to being at home. When it was just me and my tutor, she could do things the way that suited me..." Did that sound spoiled? Was sounding spoiled better or worse than sounding stupid? He had planned to talk about being an auditory processor and make it all sound reasonable but now here he was, crying like a baby. "She enchanted my textbooks so they'll read to me. But I can't check something in the middle of class. And I never know when teachers are going to throw a worksheet at me, or a reading assignment that's not in the book and I... I can't. I mean, I can read. Obviously. But it's so hard for me. It's like the letters are sliding around the page or blurring together but it's not my eyes, it's... Have you heard of a thing called severe dyslexia? Cos that's what my tutor thinks I have and she knew how to make it so it didn't really matter so much and... and I really miss her. Not that I don't like the teachers here too, sir," he added, realising that might have been disrespectful.
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Quillan Arcadius
Conversation two
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Grayson Wright
February 24, 2023 11:32 AM
The situation is becoming clearer, now. by Grayson Wright
Oh, dear. Oh, dear, oh, dear.This was not the most useful thought, but it was the one that leapt to mind when Quillan admitted he was struggling and proceeded to sort of – crack up, just a little. This was nothing against Quillan specifically, though – just a general reaction to strong expressions of emotion, due to wanting to make the situation better, or at least not worse, and never being quite sure that he knew the right thing to say or do to make that happen.
At first, though, it sounded like the trouble might be manageable. Professor Wright remembered being a first year and missing his old life; it had never occurred to him to tell anyone about this, but he was, of course, his own case. Quillan was the kind of child who apparently had grown up going to adults with his problems, and now, without his mother or father or teacher, he was taking the notion that the House was a family and the Head of House at least a sort of uncle and running with it. That wasn’t something a lot of Aladrens took advantage of, but he’d dealt with this before. Manageable.
Unfortunately, it rapidly became obvious this was not actually the issue. It was just as obvious that the issue was not something he had a clue what to do with. He was not even sure the problem was solvable; he’d passed along what Quillan had said about quills and handwriting and his tutor to Selina for general approval and distribution, but this was another matter altogether, and he couldn’t see a solution which met all the requirements: that was to say, one which allowed Quillan to handle it but which didn’t involve singling the boy out and letting the rest of the class know he was different.
“Well,” he said when Quillan finished, suppressing a smile at the quick, polite self-correction at the end. “I appreciate that, but I’m sure everyone understands why you’d miss having your own tutor. If she’s still willing to correspond with us, then I suspect she knew you well, cares for you – and dealing with one person by yourself without a crowd of other people around. I think that’s a difficult part of coming to school for a lot of us.” He’d gathered that Muggle early education was more similar to Sonora, but although his family hadn’t had the money for private tutors, he’d still been an only child, which had doubtless made the process of learning his letters and numbers easier for him and his mother. Even more significant, however, had been a lack of any sustained learning difficulties on his part. He had started keeping a box of tissues perpetually available in the office, just in case, and it crept over closer to Quillan’s position in case he wanted to partake of its contents.
“As for the rest…I’ve heard of dyslexia, yes. I’m far from an expert, but I think I have, have a general understanding. I can see why classes here would cause you even more trouble than I’d realized.” He blinked at Quillan from behind his glasses, looking vaguely like a concerned owl. “Students with a variety of reading and writing difficulties have been part of, of Professor Skies’ academic support groups, though I don’t know if she’s worked with anyone with dyslexia specifically, either.” He remembered the Collindales and the years where they’d had an influx of students who struggled not so much reading and writing per se as with doing so in English, but none of that was the same thing. “Of course, finding out what we need to know to help you, that’s our concern, but yours is still the immediate future.” Transfiguration tables for Selina, labeling diagrams and whatnot for Nathan…all hard to just remove, especially to do so for one student without drawing attention to him. An idea occurred to him. “Do you have any ideas for what we could do to help you right now? At least until we can get a more permanent plan in place. It’s all right if you don’t have any ideas, of course, that’s not your responsibility,” he added firmly. “But if you do, I’m sure I can speak for the rest of the teachers as well when I say I’d be happy to hear them.”
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Grayson Wright
The situation is becoming clearer, now.
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Quillan Arcadius
February 26, 2023 6:14 PM
But the letters on the page aren't by Quillan Arcadius
He hadn’t been rude. That was something, anyway. It didn’t solve the fact that none of these people was Ms. Faulk, and everything was different, but apparently a lot of people found that adjustment hard. He dabbed fiercely at his eyes, relieved to know that he wasn’t the only person who’d had this reaction, although he wasn’t sure how many of them had been this pathetic about it.“Sorry, I oughtn’t to cry about it, I know. I’m not a little kid any more.” He was old enough to be at boarding school, and was one of the older ones in his year. He was twelve already and a boy, so really there was no excuse for tears. He appreciated that Professor Wright was being more soft than critical about that fact though. About all of it, really.
He had heard of dyslexia too. The fact that he or the academic support teacher might never have dealt with it before didn’t phase Quillan much. They believed it existed, and that he wasn’t stupid or just plain not trying hard enough. That would do.
“Don’t make me read out loud,” he answered promptly, when Professor Wright asked what they could do. “I mean, if it’s my own ideas, it’s fine. But not from the textbook, not in front of everybody. And there’s spells… I know the spell to permanently enchant books to read themselves is complex, but there’s one you can use by tracing your wand over the words, and it works for just then. It’s probably not on the curriculum, or maybe it’s a bit more advanced, but can you teach it to me? I don’t know what to do when I get readings that aren’t in the textbook, or when I have to do research for an essay.” He paused, trying to collect his thoughts. He already had permission to use his quills for homework. Hopefully Professor Wright could help him bridge the gaps that were left in reading… The things that happened in his own time were easier. He could control and adapt them. “I don’t really know what to do about it when I’m in a room full of people though. I’m not used to that… How much in class reading and writing is there? And how much where other people are going to see it?”
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Quillan Arcadius
But the letters on the page aren't
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