Professor Pye

July 14, 2016 11:51 AM
Cecily’s wedding to Jake had taken place over the break and Alfie had simultaneously fallen into a pit of self-pity that he couldn’t be roused out of. He had gone to the wedding because he was that masochistic guy, and he had very nearly stumbled in, stubbly beard and all, whiskey in hand, but in the end he had realised how unflattering that was on his part and he took himself and his broken heart back to his apartment to further drink his sorrows away. It was only the alarm he had set for himself that first day of break that clued him into the reboot of the second half of the school year.

Since refusing to let others in no matter how much he needed to talk was a speciality of Alfie’s, he had managed to get himself quite presentable for the Returning Feast and shaved every morning before class because he did not need his new found friendships amongst the staff prying into his personal life and trying to help him through…whatever it was he was going through. Today he had woken up a little on the later side and as a result he’d not had time to shave his five o’clock shadow (Alfie always liked to take his time with the blade, finding that little nicks from shaving were wholly unappealing) but he’d had the time to gel his messy hairstyle into out of order place so that he looked just perfectly tousled.

“Right,” he said, clapping his hands as he walked through the door about thirty seconds after the bell rang. Most if not all of the class were already there and he let his books down on his desk with a noticeable thunk. “Sorry for my tardiness, had a bit of a tussle with my bed, today’s lesson—dementors. Because dementors aren’t in large abundance in the United States and indeed the vast majority of dementors are guarding the wizarding prison Azkaban, the patronus charm is not part of normal year curriculum. The patronus charm can also, however, defend against lethifolds. Indeed there are even many grown wizards who are unable to produce a corporeal patronus when asked or in the face of danger. I believe this to be extremely dangerous.

“Patronuses are a sort of spirit guardian. They can be used to protect oneself and ones friends and they can also be used to send secret messages across a distance open-able only by the intended recipient. Because of the complex level of the spell, it is an Advanced level course material. However since not all of you will move on to the Advanced course I would like for you to begin work on it now so that you have at least a base understanding of the spell.

“Third years, you will be doing ground work today, I know, I’m sorry I hate research too, but unfortunately it is a taxing spell and I’d not like for you to overexert yourselves. So,” Alfie waved his hand and the books he had brought to the classroom the night before, hidden under a disillusionment spell for the exact purpose of theatrics appeared on the back table. “You will be looking up instances of patronus protection, other uses of a patronus—if there are any—and also the dangers of not being properly prepared. It is important to understand fully the theory of the patronus before you go into casting it. I could stand here and spend a few lectures on it, but I think learning how to do ones’ own research is very important and don’t worry, you’ll have a chance to do the older year’s work next year or the year after. At the end of the series, I’d like the year as a whole to come to me with a compiled list of differences between corporeal and incorporeal patronuses.

“Fourth years, you’ve already done the research last year, I expect that you’ve retained most of it? Just in case today you will have a crash course on the patronus charm, quizzing each other on what you know and tomorrow you can join the fifth years after personal interviews with me so that I know you’re prepared. As for the fifth years, you lucky devils will be working on producing at least a small amount of light. I do not expect anyone to produce a full scale patronus on this level—in fact, that would be extremely rare. Incorporeal patronuses are not as advanced but they would still be an impressive feat for students of your age and skill level.”

Once the third and fourth years were steadily working, Alfie stood with the fifth years. “Now, remember, you must focus very steadily on a happy memory. It has to be a pure, happy memory. Many believe that only pure witches and wizards can properly cast a patronus. And, in fact, should a Dark Witch or Wizard attempt this spell maggots would pour from the wand and devour that witch or wizard alive. But I’m sure none of you have engaged in dark magic so I’m sure you’ll be safe.”

OOC: 200 words, realism and creativity gain points, if you need help tag Professor Pye, and please, please remember that Harry Potter was one of the youngest wizards of all time to cast a patronus when he was thirteen. Even after several independent studying sessions with Lupin he was still only able to cast wisps and it was noted as the only spell Hermione Granger had trouble with. According to the wiki, “The vast majority of witches and wizards are unable to produce any form of Patronus, and to create even an intangible one is generally considered a mark of superior magical ability.” Additionally, even after having been able to previously cast patronuses, the trio had issues during the battle of Hogwarts causing Seamus, Ernie, and Luna to come to their rescue. Seamus had previously been unable to cast a patronus so it seems duress can change a person’s ability to do so. If you have any OOC questions, please catch me in the chatzy or post on the OOC board. Although I have been absent from writing on the site, I do check for messages nearly every day.
Subthreads:
10 Professor Pye Intermediate Defense (Years III, IV, & V) 30 Professor Pye 1 5

Makenzie Newell [Crotalus]

July 17, 2016 11:21 PM
While she couldn’t think of a day in her life that she’d ever slept later than maybe 10:30, Makenzie had to admit, getting back into the swing of early mornings was a bit rough. Her 6:30 alarm reminded her that midterm was indeed done and she was back at Sonora, back to classes and homework and smiling her days away.

However, judging from the looks of their professor, the redhead felt secure in the idea that the readjustment was difficult on more than just her. Professor Pye looked rather messy, citing a “tussle” with his bed as the cause, whatever that meant. In any case, she felt a strange camaraderie and comfort with the man; even adults had a little trouble sometimes.

The lesson he presented was on the Patronus charm, and the fifth years such as herself were immediately free to make their best attempts. While others may or may not have began quickly, Makenzie found herself stalled. She’d had a pretty good life, raised in a warm home with two loving parents with enough wealth to provide anything her heart desired, parents who treated her with respect and dignity and had never spoken down to her. Save for a few blips here and there, she had always been happy.

But what memory could she use for this type of magic? She attempted several times, the words, “Expecto patronum!” peeling off her lips with a variety of memories attached. Her ninth birthday. The first ball she’d been allowed to attend. Isaac asking her to this one. Seeing Araceli again. None of them produced even a wisp of white.

Makenzie sighed in temporary defeat. Had she dulled her own senses that much? She did her best to remain level in most situations, but it felt like she’d taken away her own happiness so much that now nothing could fuel her. She couldn’t help but feel frustrated; she knew her magic was powerful, but evidently, her memories were not. “Are you having any luck?” she asked a neighbor, offering a weak smile to help break the ice.
12 Makenzie Newell [Crotalus] Something missing 291 Makenzie Newell [Crotalus] 0 5

John Umland, Aladren

July 19, 2016 4:21 PM
Food poisoning still seemed like a viable option, but the longer John thought about it, the more he really, really didn’t want to spend several hours having unpleasant experiences just to avoid two much briefer unpleasant experiences. To do that while he was not absolutely certain he had no better options went against all the principles of rational decision-making, and doing that was something he was even more opposed to than he was to vomiting. The major obstacle to spending the Midsummer Ball somewhere that wasn’t the hospital wing, though, still stood: to avoid it, he had to find a girl who would actually go with him, and he didn’t know where he was going to locate one of those reclusive creatures. Not only did he not know any girls of any sort at Sonora particularly well (the ones closest to him were his subordinates in the library, who were much younger than him, and Arianna Valenti, who had the same problem), he was also….

…Well, a lot of things, none of them, according to the YA books in his home library at least, appealing to the opposite sex. His body was all right, he supposed, but his face didn’t have the proportions his geometry book seemed to think most people considered beautiful. He quite possibly looked more like a crow than he did like his blond, handsome brothers, and he had the manners to match. With his own flocks – his family, his friends, his House – he was comfortable and confident. When outsiders approached, he usually wanted to either go away or chase them away, and while he could come to more than merely tolerate their presence, he had to observe them for a while before he classified them as non-threats and a while longer still before he identified them as new friends. He also had some skill at tool improvisation and sometimes got distracted by valuables, albeit in case usually more interesting thoughts than actual shiny things, but that was…that was beside the point. The point was that unless he got desperate enough to ask Emmy-Lou and tell anyone who said anything about it being weird to go with a third year to go hang (Farrah and Arianna were completely and utterly inappropriate, but Emmy-Lou could just work if he squinted), there weren’t really any members of his own tribe to ask and that meant his only hopes were that someone would either feel sorry for him or think leading the dancing was socially advantageous enough by itself to overlook the part where she’d have to do it with him. Since he hadn't been able to figure out how to go about narrowing down the pool of candidates, he had decided to just sit next to the fourth and fifth girls in classes and ask each one if she’d help him out until he either got a positive response or ran out of girls.

Thinking this was his best shot even with its major drawbacks of not being fool-proof and possibly ending with him being slapped a few times, he found a candidate to sit beside in Defense, greeted her, and then took out a couple of rune dictionaries to pass the time with until class started. It was probably the best plan he could come up with, but he did not really like this plan either, no he did not, and not even just because it stood a decent chance of failure. He could not see many ways this ended that weren't some degree of dreadful for everyone involved.

Absorbed in things less disagreeable than the thought of talking to a girl with the intent to fake reproductive interest in her (something that if he felt for anyone at Sonora, he hadn’t recognized properly; he’d done some research at home about what crushes were supposed to be like, but the results had varied between utterly incomprehensible and something that sounded similar to the prospect of having a really interesting conversation or proposing a particularly elaborate experiment with one of his friends, which led him to believe that either he’d misunderstood or that crushing was something thinking people only did when they happened to be trying to simultaneously execute and torture property rights out of people in Massachusetts), he didn’t notice Pye’s lateness to class until his Head of House mentioned it. He found the lesson itself far more interesting, at least at first glance. He really, really wanted to experiment on a dementor if he ever got the chance, so mastering this spell would be handy, plus what Pye was saying about it had such implications…by the sounds of it, the spell wasn’t just a flash of energy that accomplished a purpose and was done, it was, to a point…he wasn’t actually sure if ‘alive’ was the word he wanted or not, but it was something outside the norm. Patroni could move about, took a form, Pye’s comment about messages implied they could travel quite some distance from their originators…there had to be other applications to this, some of them of interest to him, if he could just figure out how it worked.

Silently, he cursed traditional wizarding secrecy. There were so many spells that no-one knew the source of, so many more which had probably died with the witch or wizard who’d created them…He didn’t know how this spell was written and strongly suspected it would be difficult to reverse engineer. Not impossible – not many things were – but difficult, and he didn’t have time for it this year. Maybe next year….

He silently cursed again, a bit worse this time, when Pye addressed the fifth years directly, though this time for pettier concerns. He had known about the happy-memory thing, but hadn't, thinking about how to play with the message-sending function, thought of it until he was reminded of it, and he disliked emotional stuff. People had accused him before of not seeming to feel much of anything, but their accusations were inaccurate. He felt things just fine, including completely out of control whenever he experienced really strong emotions of any kind. This emotional magic was no good, not his style at all, but he wanted to experiment with it later so badly that he knew he was going to beat his head against the wall until he at least briefly found some point between hysteria and serenity or until there was an unpleasant mess to show for his efforts. One way or the other.

A pure happy memory. Pure, pure – a fine word, that. It was as bad as 'legitimate.' What was the context? Different religions and cultures and philosophical systems had different definitions of what constituted purity. He also wondered if it had to be a specific memory, because most of the best things that ever happened to him, he didn’t remember in any detail. He could remember exactly what it was like, sitting and listening to his mother read to him, but not one specific time she had done so. He’d been thrilled out of his mind a thousand times when he grasped some concept for the first time, but he moved past it quickly. What was pure happiness, anyway? Was it the lack of fear or was it relief? If it was the latter, then just seeing Julian again after spending months trying to convince himself not to even hope she was still alive when he was ten would have to be a strong contender….

…And he was getting perilously close to choking himself up. Yeah, that wasn’t going to work. Unless it had to, of course. If he could get the spell to work, he could play with it. That was worth a little public humiliation if it came to that.

In the meantime, he blinked hard and decided to attempt to kill two birds with one stone and approach one of the fifth year girls. Maybe he could get it over with. “How are you defining ‘pure happy’?” he asked, figuring he could actually get actual work done while he worked up to the public humiliation.
16 John Umland, Aladren I am very uncomfortable right now (tag: a girl). 285 John Umland, Aladren 0 5


Arne Reinhardt, Crotalus

July 21, 2016 3:18 PM
Research? That blew. Professor Pye was pretty cool in some respect, Arne supposed. They never had any homework and most of the lessons were pretty interactive. They very rarely had to do in class readings and the guy really knew what he was talking about. He’d had real experience in the field and that, Arne thought, was cooler than anything. Sure they had those quizzes and he really could have done without them but he didn’t find them that difficult. Arne Reinhardt had been blessed (or cursed with, depending on who you talked to) the ability to absorb information. He could retain almost anything without much effort and as a result he very rarely put in any effort. Even for his final exams. He just kind of expected everything to go well and so as long as he was passing he was happy.

But really? Did the heretofor previously cool Professor Pye think the third years would just be okay researching a spell that they wouldn’t be allowed to attempt for another year, maybe even two? It was totally unfair. Arne grumbled as he moved to the back of the room to look through some of the books that Pye had produced. He grabbed one with a title that he thought was latin and didn’t really look all that promising but which was thick enough that if Pye were to look in his direction he would be able to pass it off as working. Should he grab another, just in case? Arne didn’t really plan on actually looking through the book or taking notes, so perhaps he would flip the pages too fast. What was the average rate of flipping through a book for a fourteen year old anyway? He didn’t know.

I hate this, he thought to himself as he plunked the heavy volume on his desk. I wish we were older so that we could practise the spell. It also didn’t really help that both Tobi and Liac were fifth years, meaning that they had already completed the research for the Patronus charm over the past two years and were allowed to start in on the spell itself this year. Even though Arne knew that logically they weren’t thinking badly on him for being younger and not being allowed to do it, it still made him feel less-than, unequal to, and a little bit like a loser.

In all reality, that was the basis of his one-sided feud with Tobi. His older brother would always be older, he would always know more things simply because he was alive for longer., he would always be the first born son, he would always have everything first. And Arne would always be two years too young, two years behind, two years dumber and two years smaller. “Have you ever seen anyone do a Patronus charm?” he asked his neighbor, deciding that pleasant conversation was a better alternative to doing the research Professor Pye was asking of him.

Arne had only seen a real one himself a couple times as sometimes his family was asked to produce patronus-y pieces for higher end clients. Really life like pieces where the silver swirled like it did when it came out of the wand. Arne’s father would usually produce a patronus to pace the floor of the workshop so that he could study the way the silver color of the spell swirled around, but he would also usually have to ask the customer for a reference of what animal they wanted on the piece. It was an intricate business, metal charming, and Arne so badly wanted to take over.
10 Arne Reinhardt, Crotalus Why can't we be fifth years already? 319 Arne Reinhardt, Crotalus 0 5


Araceli Arbon, Crotalus

July 23, 2016 2:44 AM
Dearest C,

I'm sorry that I left without saying goodbye. I didn't know how. And I'm sorry that it has taken me so very long to write, and that this is such a short letter, with so few answers. Things are complicated, as I think you always knew, and I am not at liberty to explain them. Please don't try to write me by name. But, if you want to reach me, send notes with my owl. I've instructed him to rest up for a few days, so you'll have time to write a reply, should you wish to. If you can't think what to say right now, I promise that I will write again, so you'll have another chance.

The change has been confusing, but I suppose I am happy. Some problems, at least, are solved, so I try to focus on that. I hope you are doing well.

Yours,
A.


After screwing up her courage during the first term to send the letter, and having found at least some way of expressing herself, even though she found what she had eventually said frustrating and limited, Araceli had waited the endless week for the return of her owl. Eventually, she had seen him appear on the horizon, holding her breath as she tried to make out the silhouette, to see whether there was an envelope... Even once she could tell that there wasn't, she had kept her eyes fixed on him... A small note, perhaps, strapped to his leg... Even when he had landed, she had reached out, double checking, but he just gave her fingers an affectionate nip and left. There had been no reply.

It had been so hard to make friends, real friends, at CASSMA, when she wasn't really allowed to talk about who she was, when her parents charmed her face to be so forgettable... People passed her by. They were nice, but not involved. Some didn't trust her – after a year together, when they still couldn't picture what she looked like clearly. Camellia was different. She was a Pureblood, like Araceli, only her less paranoid parents just put about the rumour that she was home-schooled. They trusted that anyone who found out where she really went – anyone who mattered – would have their own reasons for wanting to keep that information quiet, lest they were asked how they had come to know... Besides, Camellia's problem was less embarrassing. Araceli was some kind of nutcase, whereas Camellia merely stammered – not ladylike, and a huge handicap in the wizarding world, but not something unheard of. It was even known about in society, although she glided through social occasions on draught of peace, which greatly helped, and it was put about that she had 'mild' difficulties. Araceli had sensed that Camellia knew... not who she was in the sense of her name, but what type of person. What all the little clues about not being able to picture her face clearly meant. She talked to her. Confided. She explained her own situation, occasionally slipping in a pointed comment, like 'Can you imagine what that feels like?

She knew that it was somewhat imprudent to write, but she missed her friend. And, if the letters came addressed with her initials, brought by her own owl, and only to school... Her father never asked her about CASSMA. His focus was only Sonora, how she was doing with the connections there. He wasn't likely to ask. It was a risk, but one she had calculated to be worth it. It had practically broken her heart when her owl had come back, empty clawed. But she had been as good as her word. She had sent a Christmas card, instructing her owl to return to school if there was a reply. When he hadn't shown up at home over the holidays, she had dared to hope, and sure enough, when she returned to Sonora, there was an envelope waiting on her bedside table. The message was brief 'Merry Christmas – glad you're well.' But she knew from her own experience how hard it could be to express yourself, especially when the situation was so strange and so clouded by secrets.

She entered Defence feeling content, the card had left a warm feeling in her heart that not even the cold Sonora days, or the constant worry she felt here, could snuff out. The material of the lesson was, for once, not horrible either. She was confident too that Delphine had never produced a patronus here, although she might well have been powerful enough to do so, given that Professor Pye wasn't letting anyone younger than her year try. She was sure her sister would have done a good job of curbing her energy, but if the person known as Araceli Arbon produced two different Patronuses, that would be suspicious. A person's patronus could change, she knew, but usually only after some major, life-altering event. She felt excited about the idea, of something here that could be just hers, not tainted by the way her sister had done it. She was also curious to learn that a patronus could take a message. Would that be a safer way for her to communicate with Camellia? She guessed it depended on how many people knew what form her patronus took. She wondered what it would be... Some sort of nervous, skittish animal. She had always enjoyed watching the deer on their estate. Not the big, powerful males but the little fawns, just finding their legs.... They started out stumbling and messy but quickly became so graceful...

She felt her stomach twist as Professor Pye mentioned that dark witches and wizards would have maggots spew out of their wands. She knew she hadn't ever done dark magic – even the spells and potions her parents had used on her didn't qualify as 'dark magic,' even if they'd been put to some pretty dirty uses – but it was hard to see herself as 'pure' when she was entangled in such a horrible web of lies, and was meant to be drawing someone nice like Duncan Brockert deeper and deeper into it. She tried not to imagine maggots spewing from her wand, and everyone turning on her, wondering what she had done... Ok, she wasn't a totally innocent person, but if 'pure' just meant 'not a user of dark magic,' she qualified.

A bigger challenge was going to be choosing a happy memory. A lot of her memories were.. complicated. Like receiving her letter from Camellia... It had caused that happy little light, one that was refusing to go out, but at the same time she ached to be able to explain herself, or to even see her friend again. She didn't know if and when that would happen... She was quite sure she had no happy memories of Sonora, so she cast around her time at CASSMA and at home... There were people who made her, more or less, uncomplicatedly happy. Effie and Makenzie. It had taken some time with the second one... It had been hard for her to believe herself truly forgiven, and to let go of all the guilt she felt she should feel. But Makenzie knew and forgave her. She had eventually let go of that guilt because, with all she was carrying around for Duncan Brockert, she was running out of room, and she didn't like feeling it weigh on hers and Makenzie's friendship. If Makenzie was willing to forgive her and move on then Araceli needed to give her her best, not something all muddled and complicated. There had been the time Effie had come to see her at school, and the time when Makenzie had greeted her as Amelia at the ball, both of which had the same effect as the letter... The feeling of something warm swelling in her chest.

“Expecto patronum,” she cast, thinking about a swirly combination of all the memories. She felt warmth in her fingers, like when she'd first found the wand meant for her – it had seemed happy to have its true owner back this year, and had been responding especially well – but nothing came out. She decided to try and settle on one particular memory, focussing on it, in all its details. She worked through in chronological order to see if one yielded better results, but they all seemed fairly equal. She thought she got a small trail of mist on her last try, but she figured that was just the effect of practise.

“Maybe?” she asked, when Makenzie asked if she was having any luck. “I... It feels like there's a spell that wants to come out,” she tried to explain, glad it was her friend, as she would have felt stupid trying to express that thought to anyone else. “And I may have got a little wisp last time... I'm not totally sure though. How about you?”
13 Araceli Arbon, Crotalus Missing someone 290 Araceli Arbon, Crotalus 0 5

Makenzie

July 24, 2016 4:05 AM
If Araceli wasn’t her best friend, it might have been a little bit awkward to talk to her after just trying to use her for the happy memory business of the spell. But Araceli was her best friend, so even in that kind of circumstance, talking to her just made Makenzie smile. There was a lot of things she felt when she looked at her friend, part of it a secret, quiet longing for Delphine, whom she had rationalized was simply also her best friend in her own way, but most of it was positive. It was a platonic passion the likes of which Makenzie had never really known before Araceli, a fierce protective love that felt more like being alive than anything else. She’d had friends before--sort of--but they were all surface level society friends. Perhaps partially because she was privy to such deep secrets of Araceli’s, she felt more involved and attached. She felt trusted, and that trust was something she could never let herself lose.

“Nothing for me so far,” she replied sadly. “I don’t think I’m using the right kind of memory, but I don’t really have anything stronger that I can think of. Most of my life has been pretty content, not really… happy. Or at least not enough, you know?” The redhead felt no reason to hold back, with everyone else probably either immersed in the spell or else their own conversations, a nice dull fodder to support their chit-chat. Plus, it was nothing damning. A bit personal and kinda sad, maybe, but not too deep.

“Good job on the wisp, though,” she added, offering her warmest smile, the kind reserved for only her parents and Araceli. “Maybe the spell wanting to come out is kinda like your voice?” Makenzie paused. “Sorry if that sounds weird. I just mean, like, there’s so much to you that I imagine just had to be fighting to burst out all that time, right? So maybe this is similar. Do you have any tricks to help with the speech thing? Because maybe you should try applying those here. If they work while also focusing on your memory.” Makenzie accented the suggestion with a light shrug to reaffirm the humble notion that she basically had no idea what she was talking about.

“I can watch the tip for any wisps or lights, if you want to try it,” Makenzie concluded, trying to be helpful. She wanted more than anything--anything--to see her friend succeed, whether it was something small like an individual spell or lesson or something big like a social goal or accomplishment. Araceli had been through a lot; she deserved the best.
12 Makenzie Anything I can do? 291 Makenzie 0 5


Araceli

July 29, 2016 2:10 AM
Araceli nodded at Makenzie’s assertion about her life being all a bit middle of the road. She couldn’t say that was a problem she herself had experienced but she supposed she understood what Makenzie meant. It was strange to think of that as being a disadvantage. It also made her feel that her own extreme highs were not themselves just happiness but a product of the fact of having so much darkness to contrast them with. She wasn’t sure she liked tying them together like that. It seemed to tarnish the happy memories. It was also strange to think of Makenzie as the… not exactly ‘victim,’ but the one she was supposed to feel sorry for, for having a life that was grey and colourless, rather than the violent and clashing hues of her own existence. She was quite sure that, even if it meant she could never produce a corporeal patronus, she would have happily swapped.

“I don’t think it has to be a big thing,” she tried to advise, although she wasn’t very confident at doing so. “Um… how about a present you really liked? Or- or… when you first saved a goal at Quidditch? I bet that felt pretty good, even if it’s not… something that defines you.

“Maybe,” she nodded, with a smile, when Makenzie talked about the spell being like her voice. She didn’t really feel the same. Not being able to use her voice had been constantly scary and confusing. It was something that was locked down deep inside, where she hadn’t been able to get at it. This magic felt ready, at the end of her fingertips… But she appreciated Makenzie’s attempt to understand. She tried to dissociate the ideas of her voice and her magic that Makenzie had just put into her head because she thought that thinking about it like that would make it harder. Her voice had been such a long and difficult thing for her to work on. “I can’t think of anything in particular…” she added, because she had to answer the question Makenzie had asked, though she avoided giving too many details.

“Sure, thanks,” she nodded, as Makenzie offered to watch, although it was harder to fully immerse herself in her memory when she knew someone was staring at her.

”Expecto patronum,” she tried, not quite able to get the notion of being watched out of the edge of her mind. Nothing happened. “Why don’t you try a new memory?” she encouraged Makenzie.


13 Araceli I don't think so. Sorry. 290 Araceli 0 5


Lauren Song - Teppenpaw

July 30, 2016 2:46 AM
After coming back from a fun vacation with her whole family reunited for a short time, she’d been really sad to say goodbye to them to return to school. Her dad had been living in Korea by himself for eight years now, and even though he came to visit for a couple of months during the summers and winters, it was hard to really get close to him. Now that she was older, Lauren could see how life was for her mom as an almost single parent. At least Mom didn’t have to work too hard trying to support the kids as Dad’s family in Korea was pretty rich.

During the winter they’d taken a trip to Colorado to go skiing, and having the whole family together again was really nice. It was almost like Dad had never been gone, but of course it ended way too soon. Korea was just so far and it wasn’t like she was that in touch with her family’s cultural heritage anyway, and her mom was a complete American who held high expectations for academic performance. That was just natural.

So coming back to Sonora was hard especially this year, not to mention Arne Reinhardt had asked her to the ball and Lauren didn’t know what he was thinking. Did he like her? Or did he just ask because he had no one else? He seemed like one of the popular guys, but then why would he ask someone like her to the ball? It wasn’t like a date, was it? She didn’t know what to think, but it made her feel a little flustered just wondering about it. Her mom had stuck her nose up in the air at Lauren’s date. She’d told her: “If he turns out to be some pureblood supremacist, just kick him in the shin and walk out. You don’t need that.” Her mom had something against purebloods, but Lauren didn’t really know what. She knew there had been some bad blood between her divorced maternal grandparents, but her grandpa had passed away before Lauren had been born. Maybe it had something to do with that.

In any case, Lauren didn’t want to think too much about it. She had her own life to worry about, and she didn’t really care if her mom didn’t approve. If Arne turned out to be a jerk, he would just be a jerk regardless of his blood.

It looked like they were going to learn something fun in DADA today. Patronuses had always intrigued Lauren because they were supposed to take the shape of their spirit animal, or something like that. She really hoped hers wouldn’t turn out to be a possum or something gross like that, but maybe something unique like a unicorn, or a three-headed dog, or even a Thestral. But in all honesty, Lauren would be happy to learn anything from their extremely attractive professor. It was a secret she hadn’t told anyone, not even her roommates, but her new “crush” happened to be much, much older and more mature than her. Oh well. At least she had Arne Reinhardt to go to the ball with; that way she wasn’t totally alone.

Fourth-years were supposed to quiz each other, so Lauren turned to the person next to her. “Ready to be quizzed?” she asked. “I’ve always wondered why Patronuses are so hard to cast.”
0 Lauren Song - Teppenpaw Thinking too much. 0 Lauren Song - Teppenpaw 0 5

Kelsey Atwater, Crotalus

July 30, 2016 6:20 PM
Kelsey sat perfectly straight at a desk in Defense Against the Dark Arts. Her grooming was impeccable and appropriate for this particular class. Not too frilly but not slovenly either. A true lady was never slovenly. She was waiting for Professor Pye to make an appearance. As a general rule, she frowned upon tardiness and expected better of a professor. After all, certainly, being on time was expected of them as students, so why shouldn't professors be held to the same, if not a higher standard.

She suppressed a frown though as Professor Pye entered thirty minutes late-and unshaven too! Some girls might find that appealing, but Kelsey Atwater liked her men neat and cleanshaven. Not that she would ever have those sort of thoughts about anyone, let alone a professor! It was fully unladylike to think such filthy thoughts and she prided herself on being the perfect lady if nothing else. Which was also why the fourth year was not letting her annoyance show either, of course.

Not that Kelsey never thought about those of the male gender, of course. She was at that age where she was starting to think about a proper betrothal. Chaslyn had been betrothed last summer and Serena had been formally engaged to Prince Oscar shortly before that. The twins would be paired off any time now, she was certain. Then it would be her turn. Or perhaps her turn even before theirs, given that despite being first cousins, they did have different last names. They were Brockerts, Kelsey was an Atwater.

Not to mention the ball this year. All anyone seemed to be talking about was who was going with who. It was all very shallow and trivial, rather beneath her as a topic. Besides, it wasn't even a proper ball as they had to allow those who were not members of society attend. Still, Kelsey supposed she would like an escort, but only one of utmost propriety, from the right sort of family, and with the right manners. She had someone specific in mind as her first choice, Alistair Johnson, and as Caelia already had a date with Jack Spencer, a fine choice himself, and someone she hated to say she didn't see her friend with long term given their older siblings were dating, that left Alistair available.

Whom else would he take after all with Caelia spoken for?

Of course, she would never ever be the one to ask him. Ladies did not ask, they waited for the gentleman do so. Any gentleman worth going with would not want a girl who was so forward as to do so? Why Kelsey had heard that Emmy Lou Scott had done just that with Dustin Newell! It was horrifying! That she'd had the nerve to not only ask but to ask a pureblood heir! Well, she's her mother's daughter, all right . Emmy Lou's mother was nothing but a social climbing halfblood on her second pureblood husband and it didn't surprise Kelsey one little bit to see Emmy go down the same path. Children practiced what they were taught and just like she practiced perfect manners and etiquette, Emmy Lou was following her mother's lead.

What surprised and disgusted Kelsey more was that Dustin went along with it. Either he felt the need to be polite and not hurt her feelings for whatever reason or he was thinking with something other than his brain. Oh, Kelsey knew that men often got distracted in ways ladies did not and had a much harder time controlling themselves. Why he was having a hard time controlling himself over Emmy was difficult to figure out because she wasn't all that pretty, but then given her background, maybe he was expecting something more than someone like Kelsey would be willing to give?

Once instructions had been handed out for the day, Kelsey turned to Alistair whom she'd found herself sitting next to that day. "Care to work together?" She asked. When it came to pairing off in class, it was perfectly find for ladies to ask gentlemen.

OOC-Apologies to Emmy, we all know what kind of person is Kelsey is. Also, possibly to Dustin, for basically suggesting he's losing a battle with the Puberty Monster.
11 Kelsey Atwater, Crotalus Propriety (Tag Alistair) 305 Kelsey Atwater, Crotalus 0 5

Alistair Johnson, Crotalus

August 07, 2016 4:29 PM
Alistair was an organised person and thus did not appreciate tardiness, especially from professors whose job it was to set an example for the students and make good use of every ounce of lesson time. He was not, however, about to begrudge Professor Pye a mere 30 seconds should it be a one off. The fourth year excelled in particular at Defense Against the Dark Arts, just as he did with most practical elements of learning (despite liking to think of himself as the intelligent theoretical sort), and had a good level of respect for the young professor and his area of work.

He could remember a fair amount on the patronus charm from research last year, since it was a particularly interesting and memorable spell. Alistair would have liked to have a go at it practically but given the statistics of success, he thought it was probably just as well he hadn’t been invited to set himself up for failure.

“Of course,” Alistair smiled at Kelsey when she suggested they work together. He considered both Kelsey and Caelia to be especially good friends of his but this year he was beginning to see them slightly differently. More so Kelsey, not because Caelia wasn’t a perfect young lady or any such thing but because the former seemed stricter and sharper. He liked them the same as he always had but found himself almost in fear of Kelsey (not that he would admit such a thing, nor use such an extreme word) thinking he was going soft or turning his back on propriety. Perhaps it was ridiculous, since his housemate could not read minds and therefore might remain blissfully unaware of his weaknesses for certain things, people even.

“I’d like to be able to cast a patronus by the time I leave Sonora,” Alistair remarked nonchalantly, probably the truth but more said in an attempt to impress Kelsey. He liked to impress girls, irrelevant of who they were, and being ambitious and confident always seemed to go down well. It had to be said, however, that Kelsey was not just any girl, but he still didn’t want to ever be in a position where he really sought approval from her.

“I’ll ask first,” he offered, not sure which way around could be considered the more gentlemanly but Kelsey was a bright witch so probably remembered just as much as he did from last year. “Let’s see how good your memory is,” he smiled, not that he doubted her memory. “Okay, can you describe to me the form that a corporeal patronus takes?” It was not meant as a trick question but could be perceived as such, he realised on second thought, but he decided to wait for Kelsey to respond as she wished rather than to clarify himself unnecessarily.
8 Alistair Johnson, Crotalus I wish I could say the same. 306 Alistair Johnson, Crotalus 0 5

Louis Valois, Aladren

August 10, 2016 3:59 PM
Louis had often wondered what his patronus would be. Despite having researched the subject – who wouldn’t? It was fascinating to think that you could produce a protector against evil that reflected who you really were – he had never attempted it, knowing that it was pointless at such a young age. However, hearing Professor Pye announce that they would be looking at Dementors, and therefore the Patronus charm, in the class, all his old musings on what form his patronus would take came to the front of his mind. Maybe it would be something cool and big, like a tiger, or maybe it would be some kind of bird- wait, what? Third years were doing research? Well, that was a let-down. He’d already done enough research that the idea of doing more was incredibly boring, and he was impatient to practise the charm. However, it wasn’t really something that could be done subtlety, so he’d have to suck it up and at least pretend to do some research.

Luckily Arne was sitting next to him, and seemed to have the same idea regarding research. He wouldn’t say he was particularly close to the other boy, but they’d reached some sort of truce, despite both being competitive and on opposing Quidditch teams.

But had he ever seen anyone perform the Patronus charm? Well, that question brought a whole load of memories back to Louis.

Julie had always been the top of her class, an incredibly bright scholar despite – as her uncle put it – being of unfortunate origins. The only piece of magic Louis could remember her struggling with had been the Patronus charm. It had exasperated her incredibly, the only spell to elude her attempts to add it to her extensive repertoire. Endless evenings in beautiful gardens with the two of them brainstorming every happy memory they could think of had only ended in tears of frustration, and Louis trying to console his older cousin. He never fully understood why this particular charm was of such importance to her, but she had always felt the need to prove herself, to prove that despite having a mother of no consequence who’d had the impertinence to die in childbirth, leaving Adrien Valois to bring up his wild, headstrong and compassionate daughter all alone, she was worth as much as anyone else. Louis had always thought she was worth more than anyone else.

And then Julie had gone, had left him alone in this harsh, cold world where the only option was to get ahead, to be the best. He’d only seen her once since she’d run off with her muggleborn English boyfriend (an action that had inevitably led to being disowned). He’d been outside one evening, sitting alone in the cold night air, when suddenly she’d been there beside him.

“Shh,” she’d whispered, her eyes sparkling with mischief but also, he thought, tears. “They can’t know I’m here.” He’d asked her why, why would she bother to come back now? But she hadn’t answered his question, simply laughing and drawing her wand. “Watch, p’tit.” And there, right there in the garden where they’d spent so many hours practising, a beautiful white horse came galloping freely from her wand. And it was that, more than anything, which let Louis make his peace with her leaving him. She’d found someone who gave her the elusive happy memory, and that was enough for Louis.


Coming back to the present, Louis realised he hadn’t yet answered Arne. “I…yeah, I guess I have,” he replied, not really thinking he would want quite as much detail as Louis could give. “My cousin took ages to manage it, but eventually she did.” No need to tell him all of Juliette’s life story.

“Can you believe we’re not allowed to try yet?” he asked, expecting Arne to feel a similar annoyance. “Look at them all, waving their wands about-” he gestured at the fifth years, feeling incredibly jealous of them, “when we have to sit here and research.”
9 Louis Valois, Aladren Feeling similarly peeved 314 Louis Valois, Aladren 0 5


Arne

August 10, 2016 10:18 PM
“You guess you have?” Arne teased, his infamous grin on his face. “Seeing a patronus is kind of a hard one to miss!” Even though patronus pieces were not asked for very frequently, Arne had still seen his fair share of the spell and each time was equally captivating as the last. The first time he ever saw a patronus would be ingrained in his mind forever. But the way Louis talked about his cousin’s inability to produce one for so long made Arne think that perhaps Louis had not seen a corporeal one and therefore was hesitant in deciding whether or not the patronus he’d seen actually counted. Not wanting to embarrass the Aladren, however, Arne didn’t point this out.

He followed Louis’ gesture, however, to look at the older students and felt his face turn into a scowl. “At least you’re not related to anyone in that group,” he muttered, his good mood disappearing as he watched his brother and cousin practising the spell. “I’ve got to go home this summer and listen to Tobi and Liac tell our parents about how they got to try a patronus spell meanwhile I was stuck leafing through these dusty things!” He lifted the book in front of him slightly so that one end was still touching the table and let it fall back with a thud, a small puff of dust coming out in the movement as if to illustrate his point.

“It’s kind of stupid anyway… Now that we know the incantation what’s to stop us from trying in our free time?”
10 Arne We may be on-pitch rivals but at least here we can agree. 319 Arne 0 5

Louis

August 16, 2016 2:30 PM
Louis rolled his eyes at Arne’s comment. “Yeah, ok, I definitely have seen one. It was shaped like a horse – is that proof enough for you?” Honestly, Americans always take slightly ambiguous answers as signs of uncertainty, thought Louis, indulging in a moment of not entirely fair stereotyping.

“No, you’re lucky being related to them,” countered Louis. “That means that they can give you tips on how to do it.” Louis often thought that the whole point of having older siblings was to use them as an extra resource, or as an already prepared experiment on what to do and what not to do in life. There was also the added benefit of older brother being the important ones in terms of inheriting, saving their younger siblings from boring duties and pressure. All in all, an older sibling was surely a good thing to have. “Or you might get to laugh at them when they fail,” he added, guessing that sort of perk was more to Arne’s taste.

The thud of the book back onto the desk reminded Louis that he should at least pretend to research, so he started to idly leaf through one. And was promptly distracted by Arne’s suggestion.

“There’s actually no reason why we can’t,” mused Louis. “We’re allowed to use magic out of class when we’re at Sonora, and Professor Pye wouldn’t have to know.” He ignored the professor’s reasoning for not letting the younger students try the spell, liking to think that he was just as capable as some of the older students, and sure that he would be aware of his limits so wouldn’t overexert himself.
9 Louis For once, you may be right 314 Louis 0 5


Arne

August 16, 2016 3:23 PM
When Arne’s teasing comment drew an eye roll from the French wizard, he grinned. Riling people up was one of his favourite past times. Although he didn’t like genuinely hurting others, sometimes the line could get blurred. But Louis seemed as though he could take it. “Sure thing, Valois,” he tilted his head slightly in a light mocking manner but his voice didn’t have a malicious note in it.

He shrugged in response to Louis’ assessment on either Tobi or Liac showing him tips. He was certain that either boy would be happy to help if he asked, but he had (for a very long time) insisted he do it all alone and he knew that his family would respect that. No one else had boosters and Arne Reinhardt wasn’t about to take handouts. But Louis’ next comment caught Arne’s attention. Secret spell casting? It was such a nerdy thing to do and Arne Reinhardt was not a nerd.

Yet…there was something so tantalising about the idea of practising a spell under the nose of the very teacher who had expressly forbidden it. “There are enough empty classrooms, besides,” Arne continued looking at Louis Valois with delight in his eye. “And if anyone caught us all we’d have to say is that we were studying—plausible enough if had other books with us.” Arne thought it over. Yes, this wizard who he had previously thought to be a ridiculous dandy was turning out to be quite the person.

“Louis,” Arne said, quoting a line he’d once heard in the Turner’s Point Outdoor Summer Cinema. “I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship.”
10 Arne ‘May be?’ Honey I’m <i>always</i> right! 319 Arne 0 5