Professor Light

April 07, 2012 11:11 AM
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:
0 Professor Light A Whole New World {Intermediate} 0 Professor Light 1 5


Fae Sinclair, Crotalus

April 08, 2012 11:09 AM
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


Arnold Carey, Aladren

April 09, 2012 10:34 PM
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


Fae

April 12, 2012 10:01 PM
Of course, it was Arnold who she bumped into. How many times had he caught her when she nearly fell? Or saw how clumsy she could be? At least this time it wasn’t really her fault, but the spells. Still, it was rather embarrassing that it was Arnold to see her so weak. She wanted him to see her as a girl and feminine (and maybe a little bit pretty), but not weak. Shelby said that weakness is a flaw that some men will use to their advantage while others will find ugly. Shelby had also explained that there were a select few who found such a thing charming because they liked to play the knight and rescue the damsel. Shelby told her not to be a damsel, but Fae felt like that was what she was. Always getting hurt. What else was there for her to be?

Still though, she didn’t want to seem so weak with Arnold. He already took care of her as it was and Fae took advantage of that all too often.

Being so close to him now, Fae was reminded of the peril she was currently in with her emotional instability about the boys in her year. A blush of a different sort crossed her cheeks and Fae pulled herself upright properly and then was hit by another dizzy spell. Out of reflex, she grabbed his arm to catch her balance. She did not like this spell at all. She felt so foolish. And also exhausted. Him calling her Miss Fae (something he had done since they had met) bit at her a little bit. She wished they didn’t always have to be so proper around one another. They had been friends for over three years now, shouldn’t that matter? Unless he didn’t consider her a friend, in which case, Fae felt a little empty if that were the case.

“I’m alright, Arnold, thank you.” She advised, taking a breath. “The spell is more wearing than Professor Light promised.” Fae said, sighing. “I think I might have to have a chocolate to get rid of the dizzy spells.” She warned him. Fae wasn’t much into chocolate, something she had discovered as a child. She was more of a vanilla girl and she had heard that chocolate made a girl fat, so she tried not to eat it. Except, in moments like this when she felt like she had no other option.

Oh well, it gave her an excuse to get out of the crowd. It was stifling and Fae couldn’t think anymore. “Will you walk me over there, Arnold?” She ask of him. She probably was taking advantage of him again, but she had a light breakfast and the spell wore her down, so she was afraid of falling over on her walk across the classroom.
0 Fae And what happens then? 0 Fae 0 5


Arnold

April 15, 2012 4:49 PM
Arnold, as he thought about it, thought that the idea of the professor saying the spell might make you lightheaded actually did ring a distant bell, but that could have been his imagination still, and anyway, he didn’t think he really had the time now to think much about it. Fae had no more than seemed all right than she’d needed his arm for support again, so he was still more concerned for her well being than he was with a lesson where his performance or lack of it, by the looks of the room, was unlikely to be noticed anyway.

“Of course,” he said at once when she asked if he’d walk her over to the candy. “I guess it’s a good thing I never figured out which spell I was supposed to do, huh?” he added as they started heading in that direction, and then he was not happy to realize he’d just added that out loud.

This, he thought, was why Arthur should have been the one here, or Russell, or even Preston, since surely helping out your girlfriend’s friend was an acceptable way to interact with girls who weren’t your girlfriend. His roommates could all cross a room without saying something idiotic and then looking like a complete fool, whereas lately he seemed completely incapable of even sitting down in a desk without doing that somehow or another and then having no idea how to talk his way out of it without, at least to him, it really sounding worse.

Arnold still wasn’t sure if he’d really gotten worse about that in the past, say, six months or if he’d just started to notice more when he made himself look stupid and the stupidity happened in front of a girl, but one way or another, it definitely seemed worse in front of girls, as it was at the moment. He had the feeling girls looked him over and wondered why his family hadn’t disowned him already, or, if he was too dumb to help it, why they allowed him out in public. Fae wasn’t like that, of course, she actually seemed to not mind him too much most of the time, but for the life of him he didn’t know why she didn’t.

He conveyed Fae safely enough to the candy, anyway, and decided to stay. “It’s great stuff, chocolate,” he offered, remembering her talking before about how restricted her diet was and guessing, as incredible as it was, especially since he would have broken that diet the second he got somewhere with real food in it, that she might not have ever had any before. “Mother always gives us – “ he gestured slightly in the direction he believed contained his twin – “some with medicine, usually. She says it makes it work better. And she makes Father drink hot chocolate all the time.” Really, now that he thought about it, she almost did treat the administration of her husband’s hot chocolate more or less in the same way she treated the administration of flu potions sometimes, but he guessed that was just Mother. Everything she did seemed to have a very serious purpose, and if it didn’t she was good at making it seem like it did. Arthur had gotten that from her, he guessed. He wished he could have gotten a little of it, too, but he guessed, considering how long Arthur had been Arthur and he had been him, that it was a little late for that now.
0 Arnold Erm...it's your fault the sphinx doesn't have a nose? 181 Arnold 0 5


Fae

April 17, 2012 9:37 PM
Fae felt relief knowing that Arnold was going to walk her to the candy dish. It wasn’t really that far and she could have probably managed on her own, but knowing how clumsy she tended to be when her head wasn’t lightheaded, she didn’t really want to take the chances. She seemed to have the worst luck of things, more so whenever Arnold was around. She didn’t know what that said about her or their relationship, but it was the truth. She only hoped that he didn’t see her like a clumsy fool the way that she felt he must.

“Oh, you didn’t learn it?” She asked him. There was no accusation or judgment in her words, just curiosity. “This lesson feels very chaotic. Almost as though we should be in Transfiguration instead of Charms.” Fae always felt that Transfiguration had lessons that were beyond their capabilities, which made the lessons quite overwhelming to those who couldn’t really grasp it (Fae being one of them). At least, back when she was a first year, probably not so much now. Fae had always been able to excel in Charms, but this lesson was just far too much for her. With three spells and a little carpet for everyone to stand on… it was a no wonder that Arnold had missed it.

She squeezed Arnold’s arm reassuringly. “The spell itself isn’t too terrible. Our charm is to make our weight lighter for the carpet. I know the third years are doing a spell to levitate the carpet and the fifth years are navigating it or something like that.” Fae explained. “If you want, I can show you the spell. It just… drains you, if you do it too often.”

Reaching for a chocolate, Fae’s blue eyes went to Arnold when he commented on it. Fae thought it was a little odd that Arnold’s mother gave him chocolate with his medicine, but then thought differently about it after she took a bite and felt the dizziness subside almost immediately. She felt that chocolate was far too sweet, but she could at least appreciate the affects it could have on the human body. Well, the good ones anyway. Fae still wasn’t about to eat a whole bar out of fear of gaining a pound in a place that would not look good for her. She already had hips, she didn’t need anymore.

“Mother is British. We only have tea in our home. If she wants us to be watchful of how bodies, we drink green tea.” Fae took another bite of the chocolate, but feeling better, didn’t want to finish the candy. Holding it out to Arnold, she raised her brows at him, “I won’t finish this, did you want it?” He seemed to enjoy chocolate, so she didn’t seem the harm in asking if he wanted the rest of it. Returning back to the topic, Fae continued, “I cannot say that I necessarily enjoy tea the way Mother wishes I did. But I have had hot cocoa before and it was quite delicious.” She had it at a Christmas party, it was the only beverage they were serving to under age guests, so her parents had no choice but to allow her to drink it. It really was tasty.
0 Fae ...I don't want that to be my fault... 0 Fae 0 5


Arnold

April 19, 2012 7:17 PM
To Arnold’s relief, at least Fae managed to make it sound like he wasn’t a completely irredeemable idiot because he’d missed the part where he was told what to do for the day, and then she even gave him a legitimate excuse for it. She was great. “Feels chaotic?” he asked, looking around at all the people moving around on the carpet or to a candy dish. “I’d say ‘is chaotic.’ It’s like a cross between Transfiguration and Defense on the running days.”

Which were, admittedly, a highlight of the class for him. He did well in Fawcett’s classes because all you really had to do to make a potion was read right and get your brother to check any math you did and Arthur edited his essays, too, but he preferred simple and straightforward, which Defense usually seemed to be. You run, you aim, you hit something; it wasn’t that much different from Quidditch, which he was usually very good at. But it did make for a chaotic lesson, and combining it with the kind of chaos from Transfiguration, plus a rug, was a little…something, particularly when one of the spells was something that could make people faint. He frowned slightly again at that thought, too; what if he hadn’t been on hand to catch her, then? That would have been a mess.

“Thanks,” he said gratefully when she said she’d tell him what the spell was. “I – “ think Arthur might concuss me with my own broom if he figures out I’m already not following things this year – would appreciate that.” He frowned a little again at the mention of the spell being so draining. “Don’t push yourself, though,” he said seriously and, despite his record of Quidditch injuries, completely unironically.

Fae’s mother was English. Was that strange, he wondered, having your mother be from some other place? And how would that come about? He had heard life was a little different for people who traveled, who went other places besides schools and the adjacent states that contained other Careys, but had never really thought of how that might play out before, since he was still in the category of people who only went to school and to see other Careys – also a reason why he’d never really seen the point of their endless language lessons. He thought about tea.

“Mother tried to get Father to drink green tea once,” he said. “He finally found a way to drink the peppermint stuff, but Mother said it didn’t count since that was just putting twice as much sugar in it as he likes in his usual tea, so he went back to mint and ice.”

He was startled by the offer of candy, but for once came up with what he thought was a good answer. “You’d better hold on to it,” he said, “in case you get dizzy again.”

He nodded about hot chocolate being good. “I like it, too,” he said. “Sometimes. Not like Father does, not all the time, but it’s good, especially if it’s cold.” Arnold knew his definition of what kind of weather was cold was probably much different than Fae’s, he’d been to her house during the winter, but it was all that he knew well, so it felt cold enough to him in the winter at home. “We have cider sometimes, in the winter, too, but I don’t think it’s quite as good.” Particularly if you accidentally got one of the cloves and then bit down on it by mistake, but that had been an isolated incident. “It’s usually pretty good, still, though.”
0 Arnold ...Yeah, that probably wasn't the best example 181 Arnold 0 5


Fae

April 23, 2012 9:18 PM
Fae was relieved to find that Arnold agreed with her about the class that day. If he had said that the class was fine and the reasoning for him not catching the day’s lesson would make Fae feel silly and inadequate. Wouldn’t saying that the lesson was chaotic (or nearly so) when he felt it was simple mean that she was dense and too simple minded to handle it? Well, that’s how she saw it at any rate. So him agreeing with her put her more at ease. Well, at least when it came to the two of them agreeing on things. The lesson itself still baffled her a bit on why it had to be performed this way.

She didn’t want to think about Defense though, that class terrified her. They always had to shoot awful spells at one another or run around like crazy people. She hated that class despite knowing that it was so important. Fae felt rather slow and completely idiotic in that class, more so than she did in Potions and she was atrocious in Potions. DADA was all about skill, which Fae did not have. Potions was all about knowing how to interpret the directions and follow through with everything. Truth was, Fae often fumbled the ingredients and that’s what ruined her potions.

Fae smiled brightly when Arnold agreed to let her help him with the spell, but the smile was followed by a blush when he expressed concern. Fae really was a lightweight when it came down to things. Clumsy and unable to handle things that probably shouldn’t have affected her so. It must have been so terrible considering even Arnold had taken notice. He must think her so foolish. “I’ll be alright.” She said lightly, “Besides, you’re always around to catch me, right?” She meant that as a joke, but it actually was pretty accurate.

Fae giggled when Arnold spoke about his father. Fae had always assumed the Careys were a strict family, but when Arnold spoke of them, they seemed rather normal. And possibly a little bit fun. “I’m with your Father on that. The more sugar in my tea, the better.” Fae commented. “Mother doesn’t like that so much, so I’m only allowed two cubes. It’s quite unfair.” It was probably better that way though. Fae had once put five cubes into her tea when her mother wasn’t looking and then was so jittery for the rest of the day, she was bouncing everywhere. She never did that again.

It hadn’t occurred to her until after she offered Arnold the chocolate that it might not have been the most appropriate thing, but it had come out so naturally to her. Maybe it was because whenever she was full of something but still had food left, she offered it to her brother and he usually ate it without hesitation. She had seen her father do it with her mother’s food too. Fae gave a small shrug though, when Arnold declined and instead, closed the wrapper and stuck the treat into her pocket. She hoped she didn’t forget about it…

“We have cider around the holidays. Mother likes it better than hot chocolate and would prefer us to drink that instead.” Fae told him looking somewhat amused. Cider wasn’t quite as delicious as hot cocoa, but they were flavorful for very different reasons.

“Well, let’s talk about the charm, shall we?” Fae suggested. She figured it would be easier to explain here away from their classmates than in the midst of it. Fae used her finger as though it were her wand. She didn’t want to actually cast the spell out of worry that she’d drain herself again. “Point your wand at the rug and say Fulcit vestis” Fae instructed him. “If you did it right, you’ll like a shudder go through you, which means that the carpet is stealing your strength. A bruise will form on the carpet and then you know that it’s worked.” She felt that it was pretty straight forward, but the spell was more demanding than one would think.

“Come one then, let’s have you try it.” Fae declared, taking his hand and leading him to the carpet.
0 Fae That's okay, as long as you didn't meant it. 0 Fae 0 5


Arnold

April 25, 2012 9:09 PM
“Of course,” Arnold said, as lightly as she but with some sincerity behind that, when Fae said he’d always be around to catch her. It probably wouldn’t be a literal always – if she were in the Crotalus commons, for example, there wouldn’t be much he could do, since he had only Arthur’s word for it to even have a vague, general idea of where the place was, and there was, he knew, eventually going to be the issue of what her future husband, once she had one, would think of a second-string Carey boy being as familiar with her as he was now – but today, anyway, and anytime it was needed and at least marginally practically possible, he’d catch her if she fell. What was he supposed to do, stand around with his hands in his pockets and whistle a merry tune while she fainted? Stupid. Arnold knew a Quidditch player was as close as he came to being something without being at best a mediocre and at worst a just sorry excuse for it, but he wasn’t going to do that.

“Yeah,” he said with a sympathetic grimace when Fae mentioned her mother limited the sugar and that this was unfair. Arnold wasn’t as crazy about mint as his father and brothers, particularly Arthur, were, but he did like his tea sweet. Since he usually also drank it cold, with the sugar mixed in long before it ever got to him, he didn’t know exactly how much sweetening was in it, but he was willing to bet it was more than two of the little cubes he’d seen when they did, for one reason or another, drink tea both hot and formally. “Mother makes us eat all the right portions of things – it’s inevitable when she knows all about that and there’s only two Healers in the whole family and one of them’s my great uncle – but I think she and Uncle Adam both gave up on limiting sugar a long time ago.”

For him, anyway, and Father and Arthur. Aunt Gigi cooperated because it was in her own best interests not to let her kids have sugar, and honestly, he thought they might be more strict with Anthony than they were with him or Arthur because Anthony was the heir. He wasn’t completely sure of much about Anthony’s life now, though, except that they pushed Anthony even harder than Arthur pushed himself, which meant he and Arthur rarely saw their younger brother for very long at one time even when they were home, and that their parents sometimes seemed cross with each other about whether they were right to obey the wider family – by which Arnold thought they meant the Fourth – in that matter. He knew, too, that his grandfather thought, he, Arnold, ought to be more upset about the technicality which kept him from being the heir, but the older they all became and the more he saw of what Anthony had to deal with, the harder Arnold found it to envy his brother that, especially knowing it meant one day being the eldest Anthony and having an even harder life.

Besides, to be the heir, Arnold would have had to have been born alone, and he really didn’t know how he’d get by without Arthur. Obviously other people managed very well that way, but it was like the original division of the family to him: he couldn’t quite understand it. He could no more imagine what it would be like to not be a twin than he could imagine what it would be like to not be a Carey. If he had been an only child, or just a regular first or second, depending on how you looked at it, son, he would have been as much not who he was as he would have been if he and his brother had still been twins but born instead as…as Arnold and Arthur Sinclair, maybe.

He took care to listen to the spell this time, repeating the words to himself quietly – “Fulcit vestis, fulcit vestis – and feeling grateful for Fae being willing to help him, even as he was sure she was thinking he was a complete idiot for not already knowing what he was supposed to do.

He wasn’t sure he liked the idea of a carpet stealing his strength, either, Seekers were more known for energy than raw strength anyway and he was worried that this might end in him looking like even more of an idiot than he did already. Not doing it when she already had, though, would probably look even worse, so he resigned himself to trying to remember what Grandfather said about how it was glorious to keep going even when it didn’t seem possible. Grandfather had been talking about doing things like Apparating across ten states in one night or dueling, but Arnold thought it might be all right to steal the principle. “Okay,” he said, reminding himself that looking like an idiot was his natural state anyway.

He was surprised when Fae took his hand, but went along with that. It wasn’t, he told himself, that much different than how they’d been walking just a few minutes earlier. He did, though, for some reason, notice more how he was taller than her, which was a strange feeling indeed; of course he’d always noticed that he was taller than Fae, who was not very tall for a girl, but he felt taller than usual at the moment, though. Back at the carpet, he pointed his wand at it and tried the spell. “Fulcit vestis.”

A shudder was, he guessed, a good enough way of describing it; his head felt strange with it. He shook that and rubbed his temple as the rug darkened a bit, thinking that Arthur was sure to be in a foul mood by the end of class if Arnold was doing it right and it felt that way for everyone. “That is something,” he said, looking at the carpet. “I think I’ll stick to my broom and the floo, though.”
0 Arnold That's a relief 181 Arnold 0 5