Professor Lilac Crosby
April 22, 2011 12:00 AM
Pointy things and shoe-books. [First and second years!] by Professor Lilac Crosby
It had come to Lilac’s attention, in a roundabout way, that her lessons were reportedly too difficult for the younger years. Now, the brunette had expected some of them not to accomplish the spell on the first try, maybe not even on the first day. Eventually, however, even a first year could, with practice, accomplish everything she had assigned. That was called pushing themselves. That was her goal.Apparently, however, that wasn’t good for some students. Maybe they were becoming discouraged. In any case, Lilac was going to have to decrease her difficulty level for the beginner’s class. At least, that was, for the first years. Maybe she would do different things for the different levels.
Perhaps a usual Lilac would have been disheveled by her classes needing change--which she often hated, especially if it wasn’t change by her own accord--but she was still metaphorically walking on air. As happy as the perky professor usually was, she radiated joy nowadays.
In any case, she decided to make her lesson a bit more traditional. As usual the spell wouldn’t be expected and possibly not understood, but not for difficulty reasons this time. All of the desks were lined in perfectly straight rows. The door was open welcomingly, awaiting them hospitably. Even Lilac herself looked more… normal. She had muted her normally outrageously bright appearance. Instead of slippers that she tended to wear for comfort, she wore black dress shoes. A pencil skirt to her knee, a white blouse, and a pull-over sweater finished her teacher-y look. For the first time, she wasn’t wearing a speck of orange.
Rising from behind her desk and walking to the door when she was pretty much certain everyone who was coming was already seated, Lilac ran a hand through her brown hair, which was also looking more normal than its usually explosive mess of curls and tangled. Just as she had for the Sinclair party, she had straightened it, but now that shoulder-length hair was pulled up in a professional ponytail. Gently shutting the door, she turned her attention to the students.
“Welcome to class, students,” she began. “As many of you have noticed, my classes have been less than typical for a while, maybe too difficult. Since that is the case, I apologize. Please know I was only trying to push you all towards your best.”
“Today we will be going a bit backwards,” explained the Russian. “Inanimate to inanimate transfiguration.” She pulled her wand from her pocket and traced letters through the air, which left readable words behind it. Second years: “Usorlibrum” First years: “Ignis Acu”
“First years, your spell is one of the simplest Transfigurations spells out there. You will turn matches into needles,” she elaborated. Picking up a match from the counter, Lilac demonstrated. “There is no wand motion other than pointing. Ignis Acu. What was once a match in her hand was now a pointy needle. “Simple. Please do your best not to hurt yourselves. If you find this spell too easy, after you accomplish it, you may take a crack at this other spell.”
“Second years, your spell is a bit unconventional,” Lilac confessed. “You will need a shoe. You can either practice on your own shoe, or there are shoes on the counter as well. These shoes have never been worn, so don’t fret about hygiene.”
Removing her own shoe from her foot and holding it up, the twenty-seven year old continued, “Now, watch. Your wand should flick left, then back to the right before going straight down.” In demonstration, she performed said movement and incanted, “Usorlibrum.” Where her shoe had been was now something else.
“If you correctly performed the spell,” she said with a smile, “you should be holding a book. Which book it becomes will generally depend on what sort of thoughts you are having while incanting or what you thought last before using the spell. You may begin.” With that, she sat down at her desk and began to read her
Subthreads: Difficult questions. by Russell Layne, Aladren with Derwent Pierce IV, Teppenpaw
I'm not really much of a bookworm.... by Kate Bauer, Teppenpaw with Jordan Adair, Crotalus
Taking it all in stride. by David Wilkes, Aladren with Valentina Bentancourt, Teppenpaw, Valentina
Disbelieving and Networking by Sara Raines, Pecari with Renée Errant {Crotalus}, Sara Raines
Competing with my sister by James Owen with Eliza Bennett, Crotalus, James
Bettering my brother by Josephine Owen with Alice Adair, Crotalus, Josephine
None are needed by Fae Sinclar (Crotalus) with Topher Calhoun, Crotalus, Fae
Uncomfortable by Ryan O'Malley, Crotalus with Marcus Williams (Pecari)
I am not amused by Arthur Carey, Aladren
Cannot. Seem. To. Concentrate.... by Arnold Carey, Aladren with Hope Brockert, Teppenpaw
Ever hear of a shoebox? How about a shoebook? by Arista Thornton
Matches to needles. by Addison Thornton
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Professor Lilac Crosby
Pointy things and shoe-books. [First and second years!]
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Professor Lilac Crosby
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Russell Layne, Aladren
April 23, 2011 11:28 AM
Difficult questions. by Russell Layne, Aladren
Russell didn’t always like Professor Crosby’s lessons, but nor did he routinely give her the looks of death that were not uncommon among his classmates. It was kind of refreshing to have someone around who was really enthusiastic about things, and thought a little outside the box. Sometimes the assignments were too hard for him, but at least he didn’t get bored.Today didn’t look, initially, like the day he was going to be bored, but for a different reason than normal. Crosby looked…well, like a teacher. No slippers, no crazy hair. Since this was not normal Crosby behavior, he assumed there was a reason for it, and one that was going to turn out to be interesting.
Unless it was just that the headmaster had caught on and asked her to act more like other teachers. That wasn’t very interesting. But Russell chose to be an optimist.
The lesson, though, didn’t reinforce that optimism. Now they were…doing the things that had been at the beginning of their textbook, when they should be somewhere toward the middle of it now. He was able to turn a match into a needle without any trouble, and so proceeded to the other inanimate-to-inanimate lesson that was on the table for the day.
He thought he could see how this was more complicated, and more like, well, the middle of the year in terms of difficulty. He was sure he could turn a shoe into something that looked like a book, but as far as having the stuff in the middle have words in it, and be an actual book…well, that would be harder. How would it work, anyway? He didn’t have a photographic memory, so there weren’t any books just lying around in his head for the spell to draw on, unless he remembered a lot more things he couldn’t consciously remember than he thought he did. Would the information in the book be accurate, or just what he knew?
“This one’s weird enough,” he said, looking at the borrowed shoe in front of him – he wasn’t going to risk his own – and starting to scribble some of those questions down in case he needed them later. If nothing else, there was the tiny chance that he might get inspired to look it all up later if he couldn’t figure it out here. It wasn’t likely and he knew it, but could happen.
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Russell Layne, Aladren
Difficult questions.
183
Russell Layne, Aladren
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Kate Bauer, Teppenpaw
April 23, 2011 11:53 AM
I'm not really much of a bookworm.... by Kate Bauer, Teppenpaw
Oh, no, oh, no, can’t be late, can’t be late, can’t be late…Kate didn’t rush down the hall quite as fast as she would have if it had been Professor Fawcett or Professor Levy whose class she was about to be late for, since Professor Crosby, though her head of house, lacked the sheer terrifyingness of the Defense teacher and the patented look of cross disappointment that defined the Fawce, but she was still moving faster than she guessed any other adults or uptight prefects who happened to be passing by would like as she hurried toward her Transfiguration class. She felt like kicking herself. The term had barely restarted, and she was already messing things up. Since kicking herself would only slow her down, though, she decided to just kick Sam later. It was his fault, keeping her talking like that in the Hall until he suddenly looked at his watch and realized they were both in for it….
She saw a head of blonde hair stop for some reason not far ahead of her and ducked her head as she scurried by, just in case it belonged to her sister. The last thing she really needed now was for Rach to see her and then write Momma about it. She’d already been nagged and criticized enough for the next ten years while she was home for midterm.
And – there it was. The classroom door. She was going to make it. She was going to make it. It would take a dive on a par with a Wronski Feint to make it, but she was going to….
Her feet hit the other side of the door to the Transfiguration classroom, and before she had her balance completely right, the bell rang.
Kate put her hand on the back of a chair in front of her to catch her breath, started to smile guilty at Professor Crosby, and then noticed that Professor Crosby was dressed weird. Kind of like Kate’s mom, when she was trying to impress businessmen because Kate’s stepfather wasn’t smart enough to make proposals without Momma there to back him up and explain what was really going on. Very not Professor Crosby. Weirded out, she hurried forward to one of the few available empty seats and dropped into it as the lesson began.
The way things went on did not make Kate less worried about what had happened to her Head of House over the holidays. They were going back a few levels? Professor Crosby was either really in trouble with someone higher up or really mad at the firsties and not-so-smart people like Kate for not doing well enough last semester.
Not wanting to draw more attention to herself after her entrance, Kate took off one of her own shoes instead of going forward to get one of the ones Professor Crosby had brought and put it on her desk, shaking off the urge to flinch as she heard her mother telling her not to do that in her head. Momma was really strict about what went on tables and table-like surfaces and what didn’t, both for hygiene reasons and because feet and elbows were not ladylike. She’d been like that even before she’d had a reason to be, when she was still married to Daddy. But it was the lesson, and arguing with teachers was totally forbidden unless something really weird and wrong was going on.
“Okay,” she said to herself quietly, taking out her wand. “I’ve got this. I can do this.” Rachel had once told her that telling herself she could do things would make her more able to do them, so Kate was going to at least try it. It couldn’t really hurt anything, could it? “Usorlibrum.”
Her shoe still looked very tennis-shoe-like to her. “Or not,” she said, and started to turn to her neighbor. “Hey,” she said, “are you having any – “
Then another thought occurred to her. Maybe they weren’t supposed to talk in class anymore. Professor Crosby hadn’t said they could try to help each other out the way they used to, and everything else was weird. “Luck?” she finished in a lower tone, just in case.
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Kate Bauer, Teppenpaw
I'm not really much of a bookworm....
170
Kate Bauer, Teppenpaw
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David Wilkes, Aladren
April 23, 2011 1:12 PM
Taking it all in stride. by David Wilkes, Aladren
Midterm had been good to David. Not only was his older sister, Annabeth, still even less in favor with their relatives than he was since she had left home willingly to go to college while he hadn’t really had a choice and was now point-blank refusing requests to come back to a local school instead of dodging the question the way she used to, but she had finally kind of, sort of, gotten over him putting his books in her old closet, so they had gotten along well. He’d gotten plenty of presents, too. His little sister Selena had thrown an epic fit when, as bad luck would have it, he and Annabeth had needed to go back to school on the same day, but she’d gotten over it as soon as she realized it wasn’t going to get her what she wanted, so even leaving hadn’t been too bad.Now, though, it was over, and he was back at Sonora. He wasn’t too sorry about that. While he did miss having his own room, and sometimes his sisters, he also got to wave a magic wand and break the rules of physics on a regular basis. He was living the fantasy. That was cool.
He came into the Transfiguration classroom, grabbed his usual seat on the end of an aisle about halfway between the front and back of the room, and began doodling on his notebook, not really noticing the teacher’s sudden change in clothing and demeanor until she began to speak. He wasn’t upset about it, though, when he realized she was going to go easier on him. That meant easier As – or, since they didn’t follow the grading scale he was used to here, Os – for him since he’d gotten sort of used to the other stuff, and an easy O was still an O in his book. He didn’t feel as good about it as he would about one he’d really worked for, but he wasn’t going to refuse to take it, either.
He borrowed a shoe from the professor, since he thought it was weird to take his shoe off in public and put it on a desk in front of him and sit with one foot in a sock for the rest of class even if he was right about his shoes usually not smelling weird on top of all that. “Usorlibrum,” he tried, and got a…book, he guessed, but not a quite right one. The front of the cover still had a shoe tongue sticking pointlessly off the top of it, and the pages were all melded solidly together.
Not bad for a first try, though, especially when he’d gone for all of midterm without doing any magic or being around any magic at all. Next time, he’d nail it. Right now, though, he had a feeling his masterpiece was being looked at. “I think I might not make the bestseller list with this one,” he joked. “Maybe some points for originality, though.”
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David Wilkes, Aladren
Taking it all in stride.
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David Wilkes, Aladren
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Sara Raines, Pecari
April 23, 2011 9:01 PM
Disbelieving and Networking by Sara Raines, Pecari
As usual, Sara approached the Transfiguration classroom warily, waiting for some kind of trap or peculiarity. She had heard of pranks on the older years, and while that kind of thing didn’t happen to her class as much, Professor Crosby was simply too erratic for Sara to trust her. It was very bad when she had to thank her lucky stars that her Head of House was the man who walked around in public wearing a pink bubble hat just because of who the alternative was.To her mild surprise and not-so-mild pleasure, though, the classroom looked very…normal. So did the woman at the front of it. Sara didn’t think she could be unbiased enough to consider Professor Crosby elegant even if she somehow managed it, but what she was seeing now was a dramatic improvement over what she had become grudgingly accustomed to. She looked like a grown-up person, a figure who could be trusted, so while Sara still didn’t trust her, she did, as she walked to her seat – posture immaculate, chin up, as always – find it in her to give the professor an approving smile.
As she sat primly on the edge of her chair, her small hands folded on the desk, hearing the lessons for the day made Sara think that this transformation wasn’t completely voluntary, since first years would have been expected to turn a match into a needle within two weeks of beginning in a more normal class and the only reason Sara could think of for them to be reverted to that now was because the grades were so bad that the administration had decided to take a hand, but she wasn’t very troubled by that. So long as her education was not harmed and she was not forced to demonstrate her Pecari survival skills every time she came to class, she was all right with the situation.
She was less all right with accepting the assertion that the shoes they were going to transfigure were completely hygienic because of the source, though, and so took out her gloves. She spent more time wearing one and loaning out the other to other girls in this class than she did in any other, since Potions and Care of Magical Creatures required a separate, sturdier pair as part of their class supplies. At least it provided a good chance for establishing friendly connections. She had made more of those in this class than she had in any other. Maybe Father had noticed that before she did, and that was why he wouldn’t have Professor Crosby fired?
Well, it didn’t matter. Now did, though. “Good day,” she said to the person next to her. “Would you like for me to get you a shoe as well, since I have gloves on?” She thought she should go ahead and get what she needed early, since even the first years, after being pushed so hard for so long, weren’t likely to stick with the needle assignment for long.
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Sara Raines, Pecari
Disbelieving and Networking
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Sara Raines, Pecari
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Valentina Bentancourt, Teppenpaw
April 24, 2011 4:49 PM
Somebody once said that the world was flat! by Valentina Bentancourt, Teppenpaw
Valentina was back at school, and she was sort of happy about it. She loved her family, but they could be overbearing, especially since she was the youngest and only girl. Most of the time, those particular characteristics brought her a lot of perks, like being spoiled rotten by her mother. It was nice. However, part of her missed her family, even Alex and his annoying love-sick puppy face. The Spaniard found that to be incredibly hilarious, the way he acted around Emmy was beyond funny. She had never seen him so solicitous and nice. Alex could be nice when he wanted to, but he usually annoyed her, it was his brotherly duty, he had said. Valentina didn’t buy that explanation, he was just annoying. Period.It had been a nice Christmas, she had received lots of presents and she even got to meet Emmy’s family. They were nice, and her mother had loved them to pieces. Her mother and Emmy’s mother had been plotting something in the sidelines, and no matter how hard she tried to know what that was, her numerous attempts had been thwarted by her mother and sometimes by her grandmother. The twelve-year old stopped trying after the fifth time, if she hadn’t been able to do it by then, she wasn’t going to succeed.
Like last year, she had been having a little bit of trouble getting used to the school life, since she had gotten used to being at home, on her own room, spoiled by her mother’s cooking and presence. There was nothing wrong about the school’s cooking, but it wasn’t the same. The feeling usually lingered for one or two days, after that she was once again in the middle of everything. Valentina liked the school.
It was time for the Transfiguration lesson, a class she rather enjoyed. Prof. Crosby was sort of crazy, but she enjoyed the older woman’s antics. She had to admit that her previous lessons had been more complicated and she had some trouble grasping them, but as she listened to the explanation, she smiled. The lesson seemed simple enough. Still, the second-year was sure she wouldn’t be able to transfigure the shoe into a book at her first try, the subject was more complicated than it sounded.
Following her instructions, she went to get a shoe out of the ones provided. The blue-eyed girl didn’t think being barefoot was very ladylike or hygienic. Anyways, the Teppenpaw pointed her wand to the shoe and said the incantation. The final result made her giggle, instead of a normal shoe, she had produced a flat shoe. She grabbed it and analysed it, it was completely flat! And it didn’t resemble a book, at all.
Out of curiosity, she looked at the work of the boy beside her. He had sort of a book! Valentina smiled, “You never know, you might make it,” she commented on her accented voice. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t get rid of her Spanish accent when she spoke in English. Her father hated that. “At least it’s better than mine,” she said and pointed at her flat shoe. She giggled again, it was just funny.
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Valentina Bentancourt, Teppenpaw
Somebody once said that the world was flat!
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Valentina Bentancourt, Teppenpaw
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David
April 24, 2011 7:11 PM
No matter how flat the pancake, it still has two sides. by David
David smiled when his neighbor – in his year, Teppenpaw, foreign, Valentina; names were always the last thing that occurred to him – went along with his joke. “Anything’s possible,” he agreed. “But less is likely.”He looked at her very flat shoe. “Well, it’s on the right track,” he offered, never quite sure how to handle it when someone arguably or clearly didn’t do as well as he did in a lesson, then poked the not-pages of his and discovered them to be made of something soft, kind of squishy, and definitely part of a shoe, not something that would normally be read off of. “It can’t be too much worse than having the pages still be, er, a solid block of foam.” He held out his hand. “We haven’t officially met before,” he said. “I’m David.”
It occurred to him that it might seem a little weird to shake hands with people when they were twelve and bother formally introducing himself to someone he’d been in classes with for a year and a half, but that was one of the things that had stuck somewhere along the line – one of the things, in fact, that made his father’s cousin Sheila tell his mother that he shouldn’t be allowed to read what he wanted, because it made him do things like think it was proper to go through the formal introduction process. Since Sheila fancied herself an expert on kids despite not having any and got more involved in her attempts at relationships with them than was probably normal or healthy, she and David had floated freely between degrees of strong hostility to each other for most of his life.
He didn’t see why his family insisted on all living close together. His father and his father’s sister got along okay, but that was it. Everyone hated Grandmother and Uncle Harv, they didn’t even like each other, there were bad feelings about Grandfather because, even though he didn’t like Grandmother either, he was weirdly obsessed with her and would always take her side over their kids, his aunt had declared her parents dead to her at least twice and had been refusing to speak to Uncle Harv for four years, now, because of something Harv had said about her son, and if he stayed anywhere near them, and maybe even if he didn’t, David thoroughly expected Annabeth to turn on him as quickly as their cousins turned on them both the minute they got old enough to have anything to try to steal from each other, and would count himself incredibly lucky if Selena didn’t do the same.
That was why he was planning, once he was done at Sonora, to move far, far away from his family. Then, he could not only introduce himself to whomever he pleased however he pleased without getting to hear comments, he could even use his credit cards in the reasonable expectation that someone with his last name and coloring wasn’t going to steal them.
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David
No matter how flat the pancake, it still has two sides.
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David
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Renée Errant {Crotalus}
April 25, 2011 10:22 PM
What's to disbelieve? by Renée Errant {Crotalus}
She wasn't a person who usually got nightmares. And she wasn't exactly sure if last night she had experienced one. But she had woken up with sweat matting her curls to her brow, and strange images flitting across her mind. Distracted, she had spent most of the day in rare quietness, and walked into Transfiguration without her usual eagerness for Professor Crosby's usual interesting and entertaining lesson plans. She mumbled a general greeting to the Professor and slid into a seat without actually focusing on the Professor's appearance, but as Crosby began to talk Renée's head snapped up and she looked on in amazement at the figure before her. "She looks great." She hadn't meant to speak out loud, and was grateful at least that her tone was low. She hadn't wanted Marianna's passion to seep into her, but she could no longer deny that she held an interest in clothes and fashion. And while she appreciated Professor Crosby's unique sense of style (and that last word was used loosely) she appreciated more this new look. Almost as if the woman was "dressing up" as a teacher.Pushing the images of the dream to the back of her mind - 'Further... further... there, that's good. Stay there.' - she listened along with the rest of the class to the instructions given to them. She felt bad for the first years, since they had all probably mastered that spell already. For the second years, their own challenge was a bit more exciting, though not to the usual Crosby standards, which was fine since Renée's usual energy was lacking. Sara Raines, a familiar fellow second year Renée had never really spoken to, turned to her after the instructions had been given.
"Oh, no. Gracias." She was perfectly fine sitting there and having someone fetch her shoes, but she'd been receiving instruction from Soledad and apparently she was an awful selfish naughty nasty little girl. Which was true, but coming from Soledad it sounded almost bad. "I'll go up with you." She looked down at the gloves the girl had on and smiled. 'Pretty.' She reached into her own bag and pulled out her own pair Marianna had given her. "I would have never even thought to use these. But then I'm bad at cleaning spells, and I don't like to get these dirty." A testament to her unusual lack of energy that she was actually allowing herself to talk about a secret pleasure of hers. She stood up and walked towards the shoes, waiting patiently behind other students before pulling on the gloves; forest green satin with a crimson R stitched into the skin of the left one.
She felt as if she herself was dressing up as she donned the pair, having only worn them for formal parties before, and then once when Marianna had pulled her, giggling, into bed. The two of them pressing their hands together, and Marianna teasing the slowness of her growth. Renée picked up her shoe, wrinkling her nose but her face relaxed as she realized, with gratitude, that there was no smell. She headed back to her seat and settled down, placing the shoe on her desk. She began to pull the gloves off, but then changed her mind and kept them on. They felt nice. She pulled out her wand and flicked left... right... and then down. "Usorlibrum."
She blinked down as the shoe to shake, and then it simply turned over. "Huh." She tilted her head, and tried the spell again. Left... right... and down. "Usorlibrum." This time the shoe flattened. Her mind wandered and she began to wonder what she herself was wondering about, and what her book would then be about. She looked over at her neighbor's progression, idly repeating the motions and repeating the spell. She wasn't in much of a hurry. 'This no-energy thing is relaxing.'
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Renée Errant {Crotalus}
What's to disbelieve?
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Renée Errant {Crotalus}
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Valentina
April 26, 2011 2:34 AM
and every story has two versions by Valentina
Valentina was not really disappointed about her flat-shoe. In fact, it amused her, it really did. Learning was a process and it took time, and the second-year enjoyed the process of it all. It gave her something to work for. She didn’t think that not getting it the first time meant that she was stupid or anything like that, everyone started on more or less the same level, some grasped the basics quicker than others, but it didn’t matter. She would eventually get it and be proud of it. Also, Transfiguration wasn’t one of her best subjects, she preferred potions, anyways.She smiled at David, and shook his offered hand, “I am Valetina Bentacourt. Pleasure to officially meet you,” she finished with a curtsy. She had seen him around, they were in the same classes, but it was the first time they had actually spoken. He seemed nice, with a sense of humor. Curiosity took over and her fingers poked the not-pages in his book. They felt just like he had described them, a foamy texture, sort of squishy to the touch.
“Hope is the last thing to die, or that was what my mother always says.” In her very short years, she had come to trust everything her mother said, and she doubted that that would change. For Valentina, he mother was the most beautiful and intelligent person she knew. When she had voiced those thoughts, Emiliana Bentancourt had smiled and patted her head lovingly, to finally tell her that it would eventually change once she started to grow-up into a teenager. The Spaniard didn’t know what to make of that. How could she stop trusting her advice? In her twelve-year old mind, her mother would never cease to be exceptional, and it sort of scared her to change her mind over that. Her mother had enough of a headache with Alex and their father. Only time would tell, of that she was certain.
The blue-eyed girl poked her flat-shoe with her wand, she needed to continue trying, otherwise her grades would be affected, and that was something she didn’t want, because her father would be upset. It wasn’t on anyone’s best interests to have an upset Alec. She returned her attention to David, “I think we should try again, and see if we can come up with best-sellers, or at least something interesting to read.” Class was for that, to learn and practice.
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Valentina
and every story has two versions
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Valentina
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David
April 26, 2011 1:39 PM
Or more. by David
When Valentina curtsied, David stopped worrying that maybe he’d been too formal. If anything, he might not have been formal enough, though she didn’t seem bothered by it. That was one of the things about Sonora that caused him some stress, never quite knowing how people were going to react to things based on their backgrounds. He guessed it might be a downside of coming from a place where he could barely mention that someone was in his preschool class without Grandmother offering a detailed explanation of when the last time a relative of theirs had married into her family or Grandfather’s had been and how that had worked out.Of course, he also guessed it might be easier for other Houses to guess just by looking at what someone was wearing than it was in Aladren. He was pretty sure, given the number of people with that name he’d met, that the Careys were a magic family, but in the House he shared with most of them, it wouldn’t have been past belief to think that the assistant captain of the Quidditch team routinely went out in public dressed like he had just time traveled from 1915 just because he felt like it. Last year, the Head Boy had looked like a representative for FBLA, and his roommate had…not, just not. Aladren was fun like that. Teppenpaw, Valentina’s House, looked occasionally like it might be fun, too, but in a slightly…quieter way, except for maybe the current first years, than Aladren was.
In any case, David was happy with his House placement, and also with just going along with stuff that didn’t hurt him, so he bowed back, not worrying too much about looking ridiculous. “You, too,” he said.
“Yeah, your mom sounds more inspirational than mine,” he said, thinking of his mother. She wasn’t big on what Annabeth called the Dr. Phil routine – optimism, sharing feelings, that kind of stuff. “Mine just says life’s tough, get a helmet.” He nodded to her suggestion that they try again. David refused to be one of those people who acted perpetually wound up about their grades, but he did care, and try his best; not going on until the period ended or he had the spell down wasn’t really an option. “Interesting’s better,” he asserted. “It’s crazy how boring a lot of the bestsellers are.” He concentrated on his transfiguration. “Usorilibrum,” he said.
It started to melt. “Finite,” he said hastily. “Finite incantatem. Reparo.” He wasn’t sure which one did the trick, but he did get an only slightly warped shoe sitting back in front of him afterwards. “Yeah, I think this is one to pay attention to the incantation on,” he said.
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David
Or more.
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David
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Jordan Adair, Crotalus
April 26, 2011 7:01 PM
Me either. by Jordan Adair, Crotalus
Transfiguration was both the best and worst class in Jordan’s opinion. It was the best; because it was always interesting to see what outrageous thing the professor was going to wear next. Plus, she seemed a bit of a pushover, which made getting away with things in her class easier than most. Not that the brunette tried all that often, but it was nice to be able to pass a note here and there to Eliza or to doodle in her notebook instead of really doing the lesson. But it was also the worst class, because it was her hardest class. It seemed even worse than Potions. At least with Potions, she could say that the class was fairly straightforward, but this one just jumped around everywhere.Imagine her surprise when she found that neither of her primary reasons for liking or disliking the class held true on this particular day. Professor Crosby was dressed like a teacher, a real one. It was almost surreal. Why was the professor dressed like that? Where were her slippers? Where was the flamboyant orange that defined her? It was all gone. In her place was some strange creature that looked like Professor Crosby, but wasn’t. Stranger still was that she wanted to teach them an actual lesson. Jordan didn’t really know what shoes and books had to do with each other. Why would she suddenly need her shoe to become a book? Hmm, she would have to ask her brainy little sister that one later.
For now, she would concentrate on actually doing the lesson whether or not she understood the point. Though, she doubted that she would actually ever use the lesson beyond assignments and exams. She wasn’t really much of a reader beyond magazines and trashy novels. It wasn’t that she didn’t like reading. It was more that she had a hard time sitting there and reading some classic novel with wording she didn’t understand. It was just too hard to follow and her mind ended up wandering. Then, she would think of something more interesting to do and the book ended up lying abandoned until Alice or Dani picked it up later, depending on the book. Alice would read anything whereas Dani preferred plays.
Looking down at her stylish boots, Jordan decided to pick one of the shoes from the desk. There was no way she was about to risk her shoes to some odd and random spell. The one that she got was rather ugly. It was brown leather and reminded her of something her grandfather would wear. Pointing her wand at it, she was about to attempt the spell when a voice nearby caught her attention. “I haven’t really tried yet, but it’s hard to think about something bookish when all I can think about is how hideous this shoe is.” She picked up the shoe and showed her neighbor to emphasize the point.
0
Jordan Adair, Crotalus
Me either.
0
Jordan Adair, Crotalus
0
5
Valentina
April 26, 2011 7:53 PM
Which just makes it more interesting by Valentina
Valentina chuckled at David’s comment on his mother. She knew that life was tough, but one always had to have hope. Otherwise, you ended up in a big dark hole without anything nice to get you through stuff. Her mother always said that even when life was tough, you had to have some kind of positive thing to cling on, and that was what she did. Not that the twelve-year old was in a dark big hole. Her life was nice, she couldn’t really complain about it, since she had a loving family, with the exception of her father, but that was another story completely.David was sort of fun to hang-out with, she refrained from asking about his blood status, because it was just rude, and quite frankly, she didn’t mind it all. Her father was not here to lecture her on her superiority, something she wasn’t so sure about. She smiled at him, “Interesting is better,” she agreed with him.
The Spaniard looked at David working once again on the spell they were practicing. She found the spell quite handy, you could transfigure something into a book when you were bored and didn’t have a real one at hand. David’s shoe began to melt, her blue-eyes widened and she gasped. Thankfully, he was able to stop the shoe from completely turning into goo.
“My turn,” she declared happily. She did the movement and said the incantation, but the only thing that she could manage was to transfigure the shoe into a cube that was the color of the shoe she was using. She prodded it curiously with her finger to find that it was squishy, just like the not-pages of David’s earlier book. She grabbed it and began squishing it, it felt weird, but a good weird. “I think we are far from producing an interesting book,” she laughed. She was still playing with her new toy. How knew you could make something so amusing out of a shoe?
Valentina scratched her nose, “What do you think we are doing wrong?” as far as she could tell, they were swishing and saying the incantation correctly. They were obviously doing something wrong. Otherwise, they would have been reading something by now. “Maybe we should focus on the incantation, like you suggested,” she asserted hopefully. Incantations were always the tricky part of magic, you had to say it correctly and all.
0
Valentina
Which just makes it more interesting
0
Valentina
0
5
Derwent Pierce IV, Teppenpaw
April 26, 2011 9:04 PM
Easy Answers by Derwent Pierce IV, Teppenpaw
When he'd gone home for midterm, Grandmother had delivered a few words to Derry regarding his Transfiguration grade. The words had included 'too low' and 'improvement' and he was left with the disquieting notion that if said improvement did not occur, there would be dire repercussions, possibly as serious as hiring a Transfiguration tutor for him over the summer and he would spend the entire three months in his room studying instead out outside in the sun.So, since the material was just a little harder than he could handle on his own, he carefully chose a seat next to an Aladren, so he could spy on his classmate's work and improve his own by a combination of observation, mimicry, and, if neccessary, asking for help. This resolve was only strengthened by Professor Crosby's unusual professionalism today, which he could only assume meant she was also intending to buckle down and work them hard.
He was, therefore, somewhat surprised (and relieved!) when she instead instructed the first years to turn matchsticks into needles. That, he'd been able to do before he even came to Sonora. Anything more than that was bonus, and Derry hoped his seat choice would help him earn a whole bucketload of extra credit for Grandmother.
At the first invitation to get to it, he took a matchstick and changed it into a needle without any difficulty - far less than he'd had even the last time he practiced it with Hamlet; so his Transfiguration skill had certainly improved under Professor Crosby's difficult lessons even if his grades didn't entirely reflect that - and he grinned at the easy success on his base grade.
Now for the extra credit. Not wanting to risk the buckled shoes that were unique to him, he pulled over one of the provided shoes and wondered what kind of book his thoughts would create. He glanced over toward Russell as he said something. Derry wasn't entirely sure that the remark was meant for him, but he took it as an opening anyway. "I'm still trying to figure out if it's weird because it's weird, or because it's not."
1
Derwent Pierce IV, Teppenpaw
Easy Answers
189
Derwent Pierce IV, Teppenpaw
0
5
James Owen
April 27, 2011 8:41 AM
Competing with my sister by James Owen
James was wearing his usual scowl as he found a seat in the second-to-front row in the transfigurations classroom. He liked to sit on the front row, but as he couldn't stand Professor Crosby it was absolutely impossible for him to place himself on the front row. He just couldn't bring himself to do it. He was, however, grudgingly grateful that she seemed to have bothered to dress herself properly today, so as he arranged his textbooks, writing materials and parchment in perfect right angles on his desk he managed to reduce the crease in his brow just a little. transfiguration classes could sometimes be okay, so if his teacher had stumbled upon some sanity somewhere then today could be a whole lot worse.As the professor introduced the class and James took notes, he was pleased to hear that the first and second years would be doing different spells. He detested working with Josephine. He was a year older, and he knew he was smarter, so when he was forced to do exactly the same work as his little sister then he couldn help but feel irritated. It wasn't that he had anything against his sister as such - he liked Josephine a lot better than he liked Jade - but he just felt like he should be doing harder work. There was a year between them, after all. Yet as smart as he was and as dumb as the first years could be, James didn't think turning a matchstick into a needle would take them very long. It might have done if this was their first go at transfiguration, but they were already halfway through the year and Miss Crazy Crosby had made them do stuff loads harder than that already. He sighed. He guessed they would all be doing the smae spells after all. He just had to make sure he did it more quickly and more efficiently than his sister, that was all.
James reached under his desk and removed his own shoe. It was worn alsmot through the sole but he had to keep them going until the summer, because his parents hadn't been able to afford new shoes over midterm. It had been the most they could do to get their three children Christmas presents, so James could hardly complain that he was wearing old shoes. Well, he could complain, but it wouldn't make any difference. At least it didn't rain at Sonora, so his feet would remain dry when the sole wore through completely. the shoes laces has broken a couple of times and had been knotted together along their lengths, and the toes were scuffed by a previous owner, but they did their work as shoes. Placing his left shoe on the desk in front of him, James decided it didn't matter what his shoe looked like - it worked as a shoe, and so would work as a book.
raising his wand, James reminded himself of the incantation and cast Usorlibrum on his shoe. The footwear morphed into a book, which, like its original form, was tatty, broken, and falling apart at the seams. James scowled at it. "Stupid thing," he muttered under his breath.
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James Owen
Competing with my sister
168
James Owen
0
5
Josephine Owen
April 27, 2011 8:57 AM
Bettering my brother by Josephine Owen
Josephine laothed transfiguration with a passion. She was a creative sort of person, she had a good imagination, and so when she could get the spell right she usually managed something of quality and originality. Yet getting the spell right drew a far greater amount of concentration in this subject than she would have liked. The Pecari liked charms, and sometimes DADA, and occasions where she got to use her ingenuity and initiative. Being told what to do and trying to understand the logic behind it before she could actually get the spell right was not the sort of class she enjoyed, so although she liked Professor Crosby and her querky nature, Josephine often struggled sufficiently in transfiguration to put her off the subject almost entirely.Today the professor seemed more normal than usual. Josephine took the seat behind her brother (she didn't get to talk to James much as they were in different classes, so she liked to sit near him when they had classes together) and doodles with coloured inks on her parchment instead of taking notes. She wrote down the two spells and then picked up the matchstick that was on her desk. "Ignis Acu," she cast on her matchstick, turning it into a sort of fat version of a needle, but it was definitely a needle just the same. Maybe it would be good for darning socks or something - they were usually thicker than, say, sewing needles. Jsoephine had her own beading needle that was very long and thin with an extra large eye for ease of threading beaing wire through. She hadn't brought any of her beading stuff to Sonora because it was difficult to transport, but sometimes she wore her own jewelry creations. She couldn't afford to buy jewelry, so she made it herself out of seeds and shells and cheap beads. That was her creative side again.
"Do you think this counts as a needle?" Josephine asked, holding her creation up for the person at the adjacent desk to see. "Please say yes, then I can move onto transfiguring shoes."
0
Josephine Owen
Bettering my brother
196
Josephine Owen
0
5
Eliza Bennett, Crotalus
April 27, 2011 10:44 PM
I do that a lot with my brother by Eliza Bennett, Crotalus
Eliza wondered if most people realized how much strategy had to go into selecting a seat in a classroom. Between considerations of friends, enemies, being close enough to the front to see and hear clearly and without interference while still being far enough back that she was unlikely to be taken for an Aladren wannabe or ‘volunteered’ for anything (or, in Transfiguration, corrupted by the professor’s horrible fashion sense), it could be as exhausting to pick a chair to sit in as it could be to pick an outfit to wear to class and then participate in the actual lesson.Look at poor Sara. Unless she had woken up this morning and decided to commit social suicide (something Eliza found unlikely; Sara played the sweet princess, but she was also one of the smarter people in the year, and seeing her in her house over the summer made Eliza think she was shrewder than she might seem at first glance, too), she had clearly failed in the strategy game, and was being punished for her failure by having to sit next to That Girl. In addition to the people Eliza had gone out of her way to turn against Her, there were all the people who, Eliza had heard, had learned how She was on their own. And since the few people foolish or mentally unbalanced enough to not dislike That Girl were Pecaris, and Sara was a Pecari, all it would take was a civil-looking conversation between the two of them to give Eliza all she needed to start a rumor that would put Sara at the very bottom of the beginners’ class socially. The very thought gave Eliza chills. That was why strategy was important.
Some of those chills, to be fair, were for another reason: she remembered what Paul had said over midterm about her feelings about That Girl making her not be herself, Lize, even around him. But most of them were for the thought of how easy it was to see everything just crumble away after one wrong move. It wouldn’t be as easy for her as it would be for poor Sara, who was in the worst position imaginable, stuck in Pecari and so suspect by association, but it would still be all too easy. She had to play the game.
Unfortunately, it wasn’t the best day Eliza had ever had in the game. James Owen wasn’t as bad as That Girl, but nor was he the most desirable person in the world to end up with as a potential partner. His chief redeeming feature was that there was a story about him yelling at That Girl in the library after one of Her stunts. Eliza wasn’t picky about who her allies were in this case. The more, the merrier, and the story suggested that even if he wasn’t on her side, he was more likely to be sympathetic to it than he was to the opposition.
More fortunately, maybe even for them all, it seemed that today wasn’t one of those days where they were required to work beside the person who sat next to them. There was always a slight feeling of disappointment that came with spending all that time coming to class early to pick a seat, but a rest from being on her toes every second would be nice. She took a shoe from the stack and set to work.
Her first attempt made absolutely nothing happen to the shoe, and she bit her bottom lip in frustration. A second repetition yielded as many results. She heard James say something, but didn’t process what it was. “That’s really good,” she said, looking at his transfiguration. It looked like her grandmother’s family book and seemed reasonable to assume he was talking about his work, anyway. That was the usual intro comment in classes. Rather like how she didn’t mention that Grandmother’s book was artificially aged. There were rules to how to talk to people, and what could be talked about at all. “Which syllable did you put the stress on when you said the incantation?”
0
Eliza Bennett, Crotalus
I do that a lot with my brother
174
Eliza Bennett, Crotalus
0
5
David
April 28, 2011 10:39 AM
Yeah, I'm not a fan of the one-sided narrative (WotW). by David
Valentina’s second attempt went better than David’s had. “Not bad compared to goo, though,” he said, looking at her cube. “At least you could use it as a stress ball or something.” Annabeth had one of those yellow ones with a smiley face on it, a going-away-to-college present from some high school friend of hers. David found the thing creepy to look at, but since she claimed squeezing it all the time helped her thwart the desire to dramatically throw things at the wall that she’d usually given in to before Frank got her Smiley, he wasn’t going to complain too much. He could just not look at the thing and let her get on with it.He had fewer helpful comments to offer about what, exactly, they were doing wrong. “Well, I got the incantation wrong when I nearly made Flubber,” he admitted. “I realized it as soon as I said it, man. I hate it when that happens. But I’m not sure what I was doing wrong before.” He looked at his shoe. “’Course, it usually takes me a while to work up to a new spell in here. Transfig’s not my best class.”
Though, really, he wasn’t sure what was his best class at Sonora. He pulled out good grades in all of them, with enough effort, but there was nothing that just clicked with him the way science and social studies had in his old school. He guessed Potions came closer than anything, but even there, it wasn’t total. He guessed he was just going to have to wait until next year, when electives became an option, and shop around some then and see what worked for him.
Though, now that he thought of it, he didn’t even know what was on the table. He should definitely try looking into that before they had to sign up for whatever they were going to add for next year, which he guessed would be before the end of this year so they could get books over the summer. And he knew he’d heard some of the older students talk about independent studies, but he didn’t know if that was third year and up or just for the people who’d taken their big-standardized-exams. He looked over at Valentina again. “Do you have a favorite already, or are you holding out for electives and independents to give you something, too?”
16
David
Yeah, I'm not a fan of the one-sided narrative (WotW).
169
David
0
5
Kate
April 28, 2011 11:01 AM
I'm sure we'll persevere and succeed, though. by Kate
Normally, the affectations of the fashion-oriented got on Kate’s nerves, but something about the way Jordan Adair explained her lack of luck with the spell, complete with holding up the offending shoe, made her press her hand over her mouth to stifle a giggle.“Maybe think about a subject you really don’t like?” she suggested. “Then it will all, I don’t know, associate or something?” She shrugged. “Sorry. My sister tutors me, but I don’t think she does that good a job of it. Momma still thinks Dad must have dropped me on my head when I was a baby or something.”
Maybe he had. Alicia had apparently gotten this habit of knocking the socks off every tutor they threw at her (except the Latin one, the Uncle Geoff’s friend, but she was weird, anyway; Kate still had not forgotten the Quidditch incident at last year’s Christmas), and anything Rachel didn’t have in terms of smarts, which usually seemed like very little, she’d make up for by sheer effort, but Kate wasn’t like them. She didn’t think she was stupid, but nor was she smart like that, nor did she kill herself to make perfect grades. Or get a perfect anything, really. She tried harder with Quidditch than she did anything else, since there was a whole House that would be disappointed if she didn’t have the skills, but with clothes and school? As long as she was neat and clean, didn’t mismatch colors so much that she looked like the second coming of Bozo the Clown, and did enough to not get straight Acceptables, she didn’t see why it was that big of a deal.
She’d tried expressing that before, but it didn’t go over well. Momma seemed to think that it was just laziness, and Rachel held that she’d grow out of it, and Sam had kind of treated it as a joke, saying maybe she was supposed to be one of the guys. She hoped that had been a joke in a typical attempt to not get all girly and emotional, anyway, because she’d hate to have to go beat him over the head with her broomstick.
“Maybe my book will be about tennis,” she said, looking at her unaltered shoe again. “When I eventually get it to be a book about anything, anyway. Maybe a journal would be easier, since it’s all blank on the inside.”
16
Kate
I'm sure we'll persevere and succeed, though.
170
Kate
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5
Russell
April 28, 2011 1:17 PM
That would be nice. by Russell
Russell was brought out of his work by someone speaking to him. Looking up from his notes, he found himself looking at Derry Pierce. “Huh?” he said, aware that he either sounded very like a stereotypical Aladren – head off on the clouds, no idea what’s going on around him – or completely unlike a good representative of his House – sounding kind of confused. Either way, not good. There wasn’t really an image he was trying to project, but there were several he was really hoping not to, including those two.Then he caught up with what was going on. “Oh, uh, yeah,” he said, with incredible eloquence and style. “The assignment. Sorry, I was scribbling more random questions I’m never going to care enough about to look up. I think it’s weird because it’s weird – “ because it involved books made out of footwear; there was something in him that found that just many kinds of wrong, and another that thought it sounded dead useful if he ever got stuck somewhere with nothing to do – “just not in the way we’re used to.”
This was, after all, the class where they’d been asked to pull off an animate-to-inanimate transfiguration – not the hardest category, if he remembered right, that was inanimate-to-animate, but definitely hard for the first day, especially with the sizes of the target objects – on not so much the very first day of a specific class but on the first day of classes, period. Russell suspected everyone who’d grown up in a magical household had played around with a parent or cousin’s wand at some point, his only doubt was that anyone other than him had felt the slightest bit bad about it, but that had still been one of the lessons he hadn’t completed to his satisfaction in class.
Of course, the list of questions he’d finished all but the last few words of indicated that this might not be as easy as inanimate-to-inanimate might sound, either. “I’m starting to wonder if this shoe thing is supposed to be a sneaky way of being just like before midterm, though,” he said, sliding his notebook over where Derry could see the questions. “And books are weird, especially in magic – I’ve got a cousin who runs a used bookstore,” he excused himself. “How are we going to get stuff in the books? She’s – “ he nodded toward Professor Crosby – “reading hers.”
16
Russell
That would be nice.
183
Russell
0
5
Fae Sinclar (Crotalus)
April 28, 2011 8:30 PM
None are needed by Fae Sinclar (Crotalus)
Since returning to Sonora, Fae had gone back into a subdued self much like she had been at the beginning of term. There wasn’t necessarily any reason for her demeanor. At least, not one that Fae would actually admit too. During midterm, some of her classmates had come to her house to attend a party that her parents and Fae wasn't sure how any of them felt about it.Afterward, Jaiden had told her that her school mates might think of her differently because she had shown them the side of her family. Something that wasn’t normal during the seven years of school. Although their family was part of what was considered Respectable Society and had been for years, there were other families who would feel that they were inadequate or beneath them in some way. It was just how they worked. And, if their children listened to the talk of their adult family members, any feelings may show in how they interact with Fae. Jaiden had been preparing her for some sort of lash out that could occur after midterm was over. So now, Fae had this fear that everyone who had gone to the party thought even less of her than they might have before.
Fae was expected to be perfect at all times. To give her family a good name. But if her classmates looked down on her already, how was she expected to be what her family needs her to be? What if they were laughing at her behind her back? Fae couldn’t be a failure to her family, but how was she supposed to what they need of her if everyone else thinks less of her? She just didn’t know how to deal with all of this. And, she didn’t really have anyone that she could talk to about it either. Alice was nice to have around, but the girl was strange and didn’t seem to be able to connect on an emotional level. Which is what Fae needed more than someone to just analyze her.
The first thing that Fae noticed was the change in Professor Crosby. Immediately, Fae thought of how her parents said that they would do their best to see that her Professor learns to tame herself and act more professionally. By the looks of her, Fae knew her parents had made an impact. This brought a smile to Fae’s sullen face. The woman wasn’t going to force higher level lessons onto them. That was fantastic! Fae had to be a hero to her classmates for sure!
Of course, the lesson she was giving them was the one she should have given them back in September. They have had months of animate to inanimate transfigurations under their belt but now they had to do inanimate to inanimate and one of the easiest of all to do? Really? Okay, so Fae was let down. Her parents hadn’t made any difference, Crosby just lost her mind officially, that was all. Fae sighed loudly and looked sourly down at her match. “Where were you back in September when it actually mattered?” She asked it gloomily. At least she’d get this one right.
And she did. It took her two tries, which was far better than the ten million she needed for her other transfigurations, so she was rather proud of herself. She looked at the remaining shoes on the table and chewed on her lower lip before turning to the person next to her. “Do you think changing a shoe to a book is too much?” She had no idea why anyone would actually need to turn a shoe into a book – especially one that they know enough to have memorized in their subconsciousness – but what did she know? “I think I can get the shape and all, but words too?”
0
Fae Sinclar (Crotalus)
None are needed
0
Fae Sinclar (Crotalus)
0
5
Ryan O'Malley, Crotalus
April 28, 2011 8:35 PM
Uncomfortable by Ryan O'Malley, Crotalus
Transfiguration made Ryan feel...weird. Awkward, and not the normal everyday awkwardness he felt all the time that came with feeling like you weren't good enough and that everything you did was wrong. Actually, Ryan was pretty decent at Transfiguration. Above average even.Instead it was the my-uncle-is-dating-my-teacher kind of awkwardness. This was made weirder by the fact that said uncle also worked here. Ryan didn't know why this made him feel awkward but it did. What if he was somehow singled out by Professor Crosby? The second year wouldn't like that very much. Ryan didn't want to have attention drawn to him that way. In his experience, having attention drawn to himself had never been a good thing.
Ryan took his usual seat, as he'd gotten to class early enough to have a pick. He'd never been late to a class yet, which some might have considered dorky,but at least it spared him from either being punished or having to sit in front. The Crotalus was not normally a fan of the front anyway, and in Transfig it was just that much weirder. Not to mention the fact that it might create awkwardness all around for Ryan to be in trouble with Professor Crosby.
And, naturally, that wouldn't even be the worst of it. That went without saying. Or maybe it would be. Ryan hadn't seen or heard from his mother since the Sinclair party and at the party, she and Carrie had both been mercifully kept away by his uncle's spell.
Still, that really didn't matter as Ryan had spent long stretches of time away from his mother before and it hadn't made a bit of difference. But this time, Ryan's dad had left her, so maybe he never would have to go back there again. Maybe if he got in trouble, the worst thing that would happen was detention, like everyone else.
He didn't really want to chance finding out though. Ryan sat up in his chair, perfectly straight so as not to draw criticism from the more proper types on the off chance that it could get back to his mother and that he would have to deal with her again, and listened to the lesson.
Something didn't seem...right. Professor Crosby didn't look like her usual self. She looked more conservative. Ryan wondered why. It certainly wasn't his uncle's doing.
The lesson came as a surprise to the Crotalus as well and as a bit of a relief. Ryan had had some luck with the previous, harder lessons so this should be considerably easier. This way it would be easier for him to get a good grade.
He went up and got a shoe and placed it on his desk. Ryan tended not to notice characteristics of clothing beyond a basic description. He had pretty much no interest in fashion whatsoever, he was a guy for Merlin's sake. All he could tell was that it was black, fairly dressy and way too big for him. “Usorlibrum.”
The result was a black book that was roughly the same material as the shoe had been made out of. Ryan picked it up and looked it over, afraid to open it. He didn't really want to see a book that displayed his thoughts. What if someone else saw them? It wasn't anyone's business what Ryan was thinking and he was afraid they wouldn't like him if they knew.
11
Ryan O'Malley, Crotalus
Uncomfortable
176
Ryan O'Malley, Crotalus
0
5
Alice Adair, Crotalus
April 28, 2011 11:15 PM
Bettering no one. by Alice Adair, Crotalus
Alice was quite a distinctive creature from either of her sisters. Where Jordan and Dani were both emotionally driven, albeit it in opposite ways, Alice was mentally driven. For her, emotions were only a character of weakness and she didn’t dare be vulnerable in any way. As a result, without realization, she suffered by suppressing her emotions creating an abnormal disconnect to others. However, it served her well in academics for her thought patterns seemed on a different wavelength than most. It was probably why, even though Transfiguration had been rather difficult, she had an easier time with it than others.Though, she was a bit surprised that today they would be doing a match to a needle. It seemed rather mundane in comparison to the work they had previously been doing. Of course, it could have been a forced endeavor. After all, she wasn’t wearing her normal attire. Not that Alice found anything actually wrong with it. If anything, she envied the professor for her bold, attention-drawing choices whereas Alice tended more for the simple. For instance, today under her school robes, she was wearing a light purple v-neck, a black skirt, and Mary Janes. It was an outfit intended to blend in, be as invisible as possible. She didn’t even do anything special with her light brown hair other than brush it. Yes, she was the most average looking person possible.
And as an average person she would do as every average person did, which would be turning her match to a needle. Pointing her wand, she stated the incantation and as expected, her match changed to a perfectly formed needle. She supposed this meant that she was to go on to working on changing her shoe to a book. Pulling it off, she set it in the center of her desk. She was about to perform the spell when the person next to her spoke. Alice turned to see one of the girls in her grade, asking her if her needle looked like a needle. What an odd question. “Yes, why would it not count as a needle? There are many variations on the needle.” This was all said in her very matter of fact tone.
0
Alice Adair, Crotalus
Bettering no one.
0
Alice Adair, Crotalus
0
5
Sara Raines
April 28, 2011 11:20 PM
That she looks like a teacher! (WotW) by Sara Raines
Sara couldn’t say she was exactly sorry, in this case, to have her offer rejected. She had no personal feelings toward Renée Errant, since she’d never even really spoken to the girl, but she had heard about that incident at the Sinclairs’, and had known there was something going on between her and Eliza even before that because she was a student in second year and not very stupid, and those two things…well, Sara had enough problems with people associating her with Aunt Lila and all their scandals just because they had the same surname as it was.She had hoped to use the division of Crotalus to somehow find a way in, but it had only driven Jordan and Eliza – the two her mother was most partial to her befriending – closer together, and her plans to make friends as they made enemies had been thwarted by either bad luck, not being brave enough to take a few opportunities in the moment they were right in front of her, or – this was the one she really didn’t like to think about – maybe just not being thought of as a contender at all. She could have gotten away with a lot of things because of her last name, but being a Pecari automatically isolated her from other people of her own social standing, and sometimes, it felt like that was getting more frustrating by the day. She was prettier and smarter than Jordan or Eliza, and had an advantage over Eliza because she had standing family ties in an area Eliza’s family was new to, and yet there they were, best friends and potentially able to make her do anything they wanted to keep from being drug down by association with people she didn’t even know that well.
Being frustrated was still not, of course, enough to make her openly support someone they were openly against, but it did make her at least remain polite to Renée. And Daisy, though Daisy had the most annoying habit of giving her this strange look whenever she said hello or good afternoon or anything like that, then making a sort of laugh noise and moving on. Sara really had no idea what was up with that girl, nor did she care, so long as Daisy didn’t start doing things that changed things up even more and made her need to care.
“You’re welcome,” she said in English, catching herself a second before lapsing into Spanish. She’d been spending too many summers with Margaret in Madrid, where her father’s cousin had become something of a power in her own right after forty or fifty years of carefully exploiting the resources of the Mendoza family she’d married into and had, for four or five years now, seemed to see Sara as something of an apprentice.
She looked politely at Renée’s gloves after the other girl clearly looked at hers. “You should work to improve on them,” she said when Renée denied skill with cleaning charms. “They’re one of the most useful things there is to know.” They were ladies, for Merlin’s sake; they could not go around with stains on. She smiled slightly, politely, in leavetaking and then went up to the shoes.
She removed her gloves once she got back, then took out her wand and concentrated on the shoe she had gotten, frowning in concentration. “Usorlibrum,” she said, performing the wand movement as precisely as she enunciated the spell word.
It wasn’t a perfect book, but it was book-shaped – bulging too much at the spine, covers a little uneven, but book-shaped – and had pages, though they were too thick, and felt strange to the touch, clearly not parchment or paper or anything like that. The writing was also too blurred and faint to make out. Better than adequate for a first attempt, but she hoped to do better by the end of class and sat back patiently to wait for it to revert to a shoe so she could try again.
In the meantime, thought, since she had nothing better to do now, she looked over discreetly at her neighbor’s work while she waited. Not as good as hers. At least she had that.
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Sara Raines
That she looks like a teacher! (WotW)
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Sara Raines
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Derry Four
April 30, 2011 1:26 PM
Every problem has a solution that is easy, simple, and wrong by Derry Four
Derry figured, for a moment, that his question hadn't been phrased well enough to be understoood, but then Russell did figure it out (because he was an Aladren and they were good at that kind of thing, presumably) so Derry stopped trying to rephrase his remark to something that was a little clearer. He supposed Russell's response - that it was weird but a new kind of weird - made sense, but Derry still couldn't quite shake the feeling it wasn't weird enough for Professor Crosby.It was probably her clothes that were throwing him off, though. As someone who routinely wore clothing that went out of style in the 1800s, Derry was not normally one to disparage others' fashion sense. But the professional sedate look just jarred with what he'd come to expect from Professor Crosby.
Maybe her grandmother told her off over the holidays, too. Derry felt a moment of sympathetic empathy toward her if that was the case.
But back to Russell and the book transfiguration at hand, Derry was willing to give Russell the title of expert on the subject of books. His family did not own a used bookstore, he had never visited a used bookstore, he had never visited any kind of bookstore for that matter, he only rarely set foot in Sonora's library, and he did not particularly enjoy reading books regardless of where they had come from in any event. So Russell had to have a better idea of how weird books were than he did.
So he just shrugged and gave the easy answer that he had gathered from Professor Crosby's lesson. "I gathered it just materialized something related to what you were thinking just before you made it, and magic took care of the rest. So if I thought about Quidditch just before doing the spell, I'd probably get Quidditch Through The Ages or something." He shrugged, and gave a self-depricating smile, "That's how I understand it. But I'm barely pulling an A in this class so I wouldn't count on me being right."
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Derry Four
Every problem has a solution that is easy, simple, and wrong
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Derry Four
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Russell
April 30, 2011 3:42 PM
And that last part makes all the difference. by Russell
You’re over-analyzing it again, was a sentence Russell’s mom frequently used when he started to wonder about things. His other relatives used it more or less every time they asked him a question he knew the answer to and he tried to give them what he thought was just a thorough explanation of the thing they had asked about.Derry had not uttered that sentence, but the message was still basically the same. Russell smiled, not too bothered, especially since there was a good chance Derry was right. Over-thinking things just made them harder than they had to be more often than it actually did him any good in figuring out what a task was and how best to complete it. This seemed likely to be one of those times.
“My grade in here goes up and down like a yo-yo,” he said when Derry pointed out his borderline A as a good reason to not take his theory too seriously, thinking of his Transfiguration scores and the toy Uncle Danny was constantly playing with. He’d started out in the middle of the A scale, plunged down to a fail mark at one point, climbed back up to the high end of A, dropped back to the middle, and finally squeaked out of the end of the first semester one point over the E mark. His parents knew, but he’d just told most people the ‘E’ part. “So it’s more likely that you’re right than that I’m right.”
Sometimes, it seemed to go up and down as rapidly as an expertly-wielded yo-yo, too, at least partially because – to put it the way Mrs. Ballard had when Russell had seen her over midterm and told her about his classes and grades – he knew just enough to try to speculate about more stuff he didn’t know about, thus making things get really complicated for him when his deductions were wrong. And sometimes, too, when they were right. There was a reason, she said, why people who went into magical theory for a living were often considered a bit strange, and it was partially that they were already that way and partially that their job made them that way. There were things that just weren’t supposed to be thought about so much.
He still wondered, though, if what was in the book would be right, and if so, how. But he was not going to think about it more right now. Nope, nope, nope. Probably wasn’t relevant anyway. If they, the first years, were getting a really easy lesson, it stood to reason the second years were, too, and he doubted every second year here was a super prodigy in magical theory and how to use it to extract full texts of books from the ether.
“Have you tried the spell yet?” he asked Derry. “I’m gonna give it a shot.” He tried to force random, useless curiosity out and focus. “Usorlibrum,” he tried, recognizing the word for ‘book’ and trying not to think too much about that, either….
The shoe became strange, small and boxy. Its cover still looked mostly like leather, but when he looked at it, he could just make out the beginnings of some words….
“I now have a piece of advice,” he said once he realized what it was, trying and failing not to laugh at himself and the situation. “Don’t think about, you know, where words come from. I think I started to make a lexicon or dictionary, something like that, and there’s probably less than – what – maybe ten words in it that I could actually read.”
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Russell
And that last part makes all the difference.
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Russell
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Marcus Williams (Pecari)
April 30, 2011 4:56 PM
Me too, Dude, me too. by Marcus Williams (Pecari)
Marcus had become very silent this last year and a half that he had been a student at Sonora. In the beginning, he had gone out of his way to meet people. Mainly, all girls, but that wasn’t really his fault. That’s just how this school was. The majority were females. His friends back home said he was lucky and since there were less boys, Marcus wouldn’t have much competition. Marcus wasn’t so sure if he’d ever want to date any of them because it was a small school and he didn’t want to have anyone hating him and getting all the girls to hate him too. What good would that do?Why was he even thinking about this?
Marcus shook his head as he made his way to Transfiguration. This was by far his least favorite class. Not because he couldn’t do the lessons or anything like that (although they were more difficult that he anticipated and it did take him a few tries to get it done, but he understood it was the hardest magic to perform), it was because the professor was one of the worst he’d ever known. She was definitely a nice woman, Marcus knew that much. But she was either too nice or completely unaware of how to handle students. Marcus came from the inner-city. He had dealt with teachers who neither liked their job or cared for the students, but they at least stuck up for the victims. When he did the urban suburban program, the teachers enjoyed their jobs and did what they could to help the students, but they were also biased against those who were from the inner-city. One major reason why Marcus had issues with authorities. It seemed like no matter where he went, the adults were out to make him a criminal. Crosby seemed like she was trying, but when put into a situation like that of Marcus and Nova, the woman was a deer in headlights. And Nova had used that to her advantage. If there was another Transfiguration class, Marcus would have asked for a transfer and be done with her. He didn’t feel safe or equal in this class.
Marcus hesitated at the door when he saw the state that the professor was in. He wondered if she was getting evaluated today. Back home, the teachers were always evaluated the second half of the school year. But he didn’t see the Headmaster or any other adult in the room. Maybe she had a telling off and that’s why she looked normal? Marcus hoped so. Class was hard enough, it was only worse with a crazy teacher.
He took a seat and listened quietly as she gave instructions. The lesson for the first years seemed rather pointless this late in the game, but whatever. The second years definitely required more skill but it felt like they were taking a step back with their lessons instead of forward (or, at the very least conquering the lessons they have been doing).
Marcus looked down at his Air Jordan’s. There was no way he was going to be transfiguring his Christmas gift. Getting up, Marcus grabbed a random brown shoe and sat back down. He twirled his wand between his fingers for a moment as he read his book on how this spell worked. His mother and him had read through all his books last summer and again during break. He felt he had a good understanding about it after having gone over it with her, but reading it over always helped prepare him.
“Usorlibrum” Marcus said firmly while flicking his wand in the same motion as the professor. The results were perfect. His ‘book’ hada hard leather feel to it just as the sneaker had and didn’t have pages in between. “Huh…” He said quietly before looking over at his neighbors work. “Hey Ryan, awesome job.” Marcus said as he saw the black book on his desk. It looked like a professional bound book. And his had pages. Marcus hadn’t really ever spoken to him before, but with so little guys, Marcus would need a male companion sooner or later, so might as well start now.
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Marcus Williams (Pecari)
Me too, Dude, me too.
180
Marcus Williams (Pecari)
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Derry Four
April 30, 2011 6:10 PM
You're just saying that because you're smart by Derry Four
Derry was kind of shocked when Russell told him his grade bounced around. First of all, he'd taken it as a given that all Aladrens were geniuses who knew everything all the time. The bursting of that bubble was sobering and Derry canted his head a little and felt like he was seeing Russell for perhaps the first time. Secondly, he was surprised an Aladren would admit that, since he was pretty sure he wasn't the only one who would just assume Russell was doing great in all of his classes just because of his House.On the third hand though (and Derry wasn't quite sure who's hand he was borrowing for that), it did make sense, for the same reason Derry had admitted he was running an A average - so all his assumptions were taken with a grain of salt and not just accepted on his say-so.
And maybe Derry's theory was right. Russell's advice about what not to think right before casting did seem to indicate that it was at least a possibility.
"Have tried the book one yet," he admitted, and that was mostly because he'd been waiting to see how Russell did first. "But I've got a needle," he picked that up to show it off for a moment before placing it back down on the desk and turning his attention back to his (er, Professor Crosby's) shoe. "Okay, trying the book now."
He concentrated on the shoe for a moment, then thought about books - their size, their shape, the bindings, the pages, and then flick left, and the flick right, and then the drop down, as he said, "Usorlibrum."
The shoe began to transform. Not a lot, really, but the tongue and laces began to layer out into almost paper-like sheets, and across the toe the words, "The Modern Printing Process," appeared.
Derry sat back in his seat, somewhat startled by his results, and said, "Huh."
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Derry Four
You're just saying that because you're smart
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Derry Four
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Topher Calhoun, Crotalus
April 30, 2011 10:35 PM
Particularly the pointy things by Topher Calhoun, Crotalus
There was something surreal about coming back to Sonora after leaving it and spending two weeks with his parents. It felt as though he’d only just left and as though a million years had passed all at the same time. Topher didn’t really know how to feel about that, never mind what he was supposed to do with it. It was just weird.The result was that he was slightly more willing than usual to really pay attention in his classes and work in them, to avoid the weird feeling and the possibly not-so-good-attention-getting antics that could result if he let himself get too caught up in it. That wasn’t all bad. His reputation might end up full of holes, but at least his mom and dad would be happy when he wrote home with his first grades. They wanted him to be an achiever, and as tempting as it was to say it was because he’d grown up in tutoring with the likes of Russell, he knew it was nothing like that. They just thought he was smart enough to more than he really wanted to, and he was dumb enough to prove it when something interested him.
Transfiguration…sometimes interested him. On good days, he had fun with it, and usually got what he was supposed to do done, if not always in the way he was supposed to have done it. On others, he didn’t bomb out, but he either only got halfway through, or just turned out a mediocre product. This made him think he probably had a slight knack for it, though not an outstanding amount of skill, which he was okay with.
Since he was a Crotalus, though, he was slightly less okay with things suddenly changing up on him. He didn’t think it was going to take him as long to get used to Professor Crosby dressing business-style as it had for him to get used to the idea of sharing his mother and having a second parent after Mom married Dad, but it was still going to take time. He couldn’t stop glancing in her direction every so often to make sure the whole thing wasn’t a joke, especially once she announced the first year assignment.
He finished it without too much trouble, and looked over at Fae when she asked his opinion of the second assignment. “I…don’t know,” he said. “You’re right that shape doesn’t sound too hard, but I hadn’t thought about the words.” He grinned at her, feeling a little self-conscious. The Aladrens, he was sure, could have answered that question without any trouble. “I usually try not to think too much about the specifics of how all this works,” he admitted. “Are you going to try it? I reckon I am, but that’s because I’ll need any extra credit she gives us for it by the end of the year and I don’t think she can count off if we can’t do it.” He hoped. She was kinda crazy.
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Topher Calhoun, Crotalus
Particularly the pointy things
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Topher Calhoun, Crotalus
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Fae
May 01, 2011 3:29 PM
A shoe-book seems less needed by Fae
Fae looked at Topher with expectation. She could get along just fine in lessons for the most part. Some things took her longer to understand and to accomplish, but eventually she would get it done. But, Fae was well aware that she would never be an Aladren. Things just weren’t so easy for her to understand the way they were for people like Alice. It was something that made Fae feel inadequate, but also something she knew she had no control over. The only thing she could do was try harder.Her sister, Shelby, was the one who could do an assignment without really any issue, but she never liked to admit it. She always told Fae that guys do not like a girl who could outsmart them. Somehow Fae’s sister managed to be what guys look for and still have top marks in school without anyone being the wiser. Fae really wished it was her sister who had to make an impression on the world and not her. If that were the case, life would have been far more happier.
Topher’s answer didn’t really help Fae, but it didn’t make her any worse either. Since he didn’t know the difficulty of the spell either, Fae didn’t feel like she was a complete idiot for asking. She smiled back at him, more relieved about the lesson than she was earlier. “Yeah, Sara said something like that to me before.” Fae commented lightly before looking at her shoes in great thought. “I was thinking about it. Just to see if I can.” Fae commented. Although, if they were given extra credit for doing it, that was a bonus.
Fae returned her gaze to Topher for a moment. “I don’t really understand why one would turn their shoe into a book though. Or how a person could know a book so well that it’s memorized word for word to fill the pages of a shoe-book anyway.” Fae enjoyed books, they were entertaining, but she certainly didn’t know any by heart. “Sara told me during our first lesson to imagine the transfiguration happening. But… I am not quite sure I am creative enough to actually imagine a shoe becoming a book.”
She glanced around the room to see what everyone else was doing. It looked as though most of the first years handled the match to a needle rather well, but the second years seemed to be having more difficulty. Some had books, but Fae didn’t know if the books were actually readable. Others had things that might look like books but definitely still had sneaker quality to them. “I don’t think I’ll be trying on my own shoe though, in case I completely flub the spell up and ruin it.” Fae said quietly, looking at her shoes again. “Do you think dress shoes or sneakers would be easier? Or maybe that doesn’t even matter…”
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Fae
A shoe-book seems less needed
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Fae
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Jordan
May 03, 2011 9:01 PM
Are you sure? :P by Jordan
“I’ll just think about Potions,” Jordan replied making a face. She absolutely hated potions. It wasn’t that she was completely incompetent at them. Not that she was the best either. She was an average potions maker, but something about the materials that they had to use was just gross. Salamander tails and newt eyes? It was just plain disgusting. “Though, I don’t think I could think of everything or even a page of what’s in that book.” Regardless of the fact that the book was huge, she really wouldn’t want to think about the various potions in it. Beyond the repulsive items, there were the even vile potions. She had absolutely no idea why someone would even think up some of the things that were in the book let alone put such things into one.Of course, her sister probably would have been one of those people to think such things. Not because she found them all that terribly interesting, but just because she was so matter-of-fact about everything. “If you were dropped on your head, then I must have been too cause all of this is for the birds.” She chuckled slightly. “Before coming here, my sisters and I had a tutor. I’ll probably have my sister...Alice. That’s here sitting over there.” She pointed her out. “Anyhow, I’ll probably have her tutor me this year since we’re in the same class. She’s younger than me, but she’s a complete brainiac. She really should have been in Aladren, but somehow ended up in Crotalus with me.” Jordan shrugged a thin shoulder as if it didn’t really matter. Though, there were times that she both liked and disliked having her baby sister in the same House.
“Do you play tennis?” Jordan asked since Kate mentioned her book being about the subject. “I’ve never played, but I saw some kids once that were.” She liked to go out sometimes to the muggle part of town to talk to some of the cute, older boys. Not that her parents would have approved, but it was easy enough to say she was going over a friend’s. A couple of the times, she saw kids playing on the courts and thought it had looked like fun. But then, she was an active person by nature. She took dance and gymnastics lessons. She wasn’t serious enough to be extraordinary at either. Yet, it was enough to keep her in shape and if they had another talent show someday, maybe she would do something with it.
She made another face at the thought of the blank journal. “That wouldn’t be very interesting. Easy, sure, but interesting? No. Besides, it’s not like you are a blank person, right? Maybe you should think about something you’re passionate about and do that.” Jordan laughed when she thought about what she would do. “I guess if I went by mine it would end up being some romantic novel.” She had a high level of interest in boys at the moment. Maybe, hopefully, in time it would calm down into something of less importance. It was probably just because being a teenager, everything was everywhere at the moment.
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Jordan
Are you sure? :P
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Jordan
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Valentina
May 03, 2011 9:08 PM
Understandable by Valentina
“A stress ball?” the second-year inquired. She had never heard about them before. She looked at what she had in her hand and tilted her head. It was a cube, but she wasn’t going to point out that obvious difference, since it would be rude, and she didn’t want to be rude to David. He seemed like a very nice person, so she just smiled at him. The little square thingy helped her while she was thinking, and she began to ponder what she was doing wrong. It had to be in the swishing of the wand, because she was fairly certain that she was saying the incantation correctly.Valentina chuckled, “Yes, I prefer potions, to be honest.” The smile on her lips never faltering. She preferred to have to see the positive in everything. She would eventually get it, maybe not today at class, but after practicing it. Transfiguration was sort of hard, but challenging. “But I know we will eventually get it. I can’t be that difficult, can it?” she asked hopefully.
The Spaniard left his cube on top of the desk and looked at it curiously, as it began to transform once again into a shoe. She knew her magic wasn’t strong enough to fully transfigure the show into something else. Potions was easier to understand, everything had their place and why. It was direct and to the point. You added that to get this and so on. It was like cooking, and Valentina loved to cook. She usually did so with her mother, sweets were favorite thing to bake. Yes, Potions was definitely her favorite subject.
David asked her about exactly what she had been thinking, “Potions, because it is simple and every ingredient has its why and how. It is direct and you can see immediately what you did wrong, because you didn’t follow instructions through,” her blue eyes glanced back at the shoe she was using, and she wrinkled her nose, looking back at David. “How about you? Do you have a favorite class, or are you waiting for electives?” To be honest, she hadn’t thought about electives or even considered them for her near future.
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Valentina
Understandable
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Valentina
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Russell
May 04, 2011 12:02 PM
Can't say I feel too smart right now... by Russell
“Huh,” Russell echoed Derry when his shoe started to turn into a book on printing. “That’s cool. And at least it’s in English.”His, he was pretty sure, was in gibberish, since he only knew random, picked-up-from-novels words of other languages and he was pretty sure his subconscious did not know Latin or Greek or whatever this was supposed to be. So, unless there really was some kind of collective body of knowledge out there in abstract space that could be drawn on magically without the wizard really needing to know what he was doing, which explained a lot of things but made just as many strange and dangerous, his book, if it was openable, was going to be in gibberish.
He thought.
No, he was going to stop that. He was just going to go along with this lesson and be cool. Not weirdo over-thinky guy. Yeah. That was what he was going to do. Seriously.
“This would be so much easier if I didn’t think about it so much,” he declared. “At least, I’m pretty sure it would be, because I can’t think about that not enough to not add in a ‘pretty sure’ because I can’t be sure, and it would be wrong to make a statement that something is when I don’t know that it is.” He rubbed his forehead. “And now I sound like a crazy person,” he deadpanned, remembering that he had an audience. “Guess we try again, then?”
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Russell
Can't say I feel too smart right now...
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Russell
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James
May 04, 2011 4:29 PM
Who usually comes out on top? by James
"That was really good." James looked up at the voice which he thought had been directed at him, but he couldn't imagine why. It was a girl, one who was probably in his year because she looked more familiar than some of the other girls, but other than that James didn't know her. He'd made no effort whatsoever to get to know any of his peers, as his roomates were plenty enough company, and generally everyone else was annoying, stupid, or both. Whoever this girl was, she seemed to thin that James' work was good. he took a dubious second look at it, just in case he'd misremembered it from his first view, but no; it was still crap. therefore he concluded that this girl was making fun of him, either because his magic was poor or because he had broken shoes, and James wasn't in the mood to tolerate either circumstance."I put the stress on 'way' in 'go away'," he said forcefully. Honestly, what syllable did he put the stress on? What sort of an insult was that, anyway? Grumbling to himself - unintelligible words run together, punctuation occasionally by things that sounded like 'syllable' and 'stupid' - James kicked off his right shoe, too, leaving him in threadbare gray socks. He walked up to the front of the classroom and took one of the completely new, unused and unworn shoes back to hsi desk. Typical. Here he was in shoes that didn't quite fit and were falling apart more every day, and the professor just had a collection of completely new and servicable shoes. Life just sucked sometimes.
Placing the new shoe on his desk next to the old, battered book, James withdrew his wand and cast the spell again. He was aiming this time for a fantasy book about how a group of Goblins overcame a clan of Giants, which had a red and silver cover (he'd picked a red shoe and decided it didn't count as cheating, but as sensible planning). The shoe transfigured nicely into a book. In fact it could have easily replaced the real book on the shelf and nobody would have known the difference. Starting to feel a little proud of himself, James leant in to open the book, and his eyebrows raised involuntarily in surprise when he discovered all the pages were blank. "Well how am I supposed to remember the whole story?" he asked the book angrily. In a huff, he sat back in his chair. "Stupid class."
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James
Who usually comes out on top?
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James
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Kate
May 04, 2011 5:54 PM
...Maybe? If we're really lucky? by Kate
Kate thought about Potions for a second. The ingredients and brewing didn’t bother her so much, though the more complicated brews did sometimes exhaust her brain power to keep up with and go awry, but the class still ran her ragged to keep up with. It didn’t help, either, that Rachel was fantastic at Fawcett’s program, and since Rach was the second-favorite and the favorite wasn’t in school yet, Kate was expected to match her.She was about to agree with Jordan’s theory of what to imagine for a good, strong association when the other second year brought up a point she hadn’t yet considered. “Oh, wow,” she said. “I hadn’t even thought about that. Like I said, head…baby….dropped on.” She looked at her shoe. Maybe, since some of them were using their own shoes, the professor wouldn’t really look deeply at the books, since she’d have to do it before the end of class so they could leave. And even if she got a good look at Kate’s, well…how much could the professor know about everything to know that it was all accurate, anyway? And how much could it really count off if it was in the Muggle version of gobbledegook?
Probably a lot, now that she’d thought that. Hoping her desk was real wood, she softly and discreetly knocked on the bottom of it.
Kate laughed and smiled sympathetically as Jordan also disavowed any real skill with this. “My sister’s in fourth year,” she said. “Rachel.” Her voice was tinged with a number of things: pride, wariness, maybe the slightest bit of something somewhere between bitterness and awe. “She’s in Crotalus, too, but she thinks she’s an Aladren.”
She shook her head when asked if she played tennis. “No. It’s just because it’s a tennis shoe, so that’s where my brain is.” She looked at it thoughtfully. “Though, do people actually wear tennis shoes when they’re playing tennis? It doesn’t look like it would be all that comfortable, you know, to bounce around like that in these.” She shrugged. “But what do I know?”
Somehow, Jordan’s criticism of her idea for getting around the assignment stung a little, but she was used enough to that kind of thing in the fam to not show it. Crotali, it seemed, had a real knack for that, especially the really pretty, perfect ones. "I don't know," she said, lightly even though she really meant it seriously. "My life's pretty boring." Though the image of Jordan on the cover of a romance novel did come to mind rather easily. "That's not bad," she said. “I’ll…end up with Dad’s family album or something, I don’t know.” She realized how strange that could sound. “My parents are divorced, and Momma has more money which means custody, so I don’t get to see Dad as much as I want to,” she explained.
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Kate
...Maybe? If we're really lucky?
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Kate
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David
May 04, 2011 6:01 PM
Like you said - it's dull. by David
"Yeah," David said about stress balls, then remembered that Valentina, with the accent, was most likely one of the international students. And, with the curtsy, probably one of the pureblood ones, too, though he found it hard to believe that, as complicated as their lives seemed to be, that the purebloods didn't have stress balls. Maybe he had just found out how to make his fortune. "Those squishy things, they come in lots of different shapes, some of them have faces or words on them, and you squeeze them when you want to hit somebody. My older sister carries this one she calls Smiley everywhere with her." Family opinion was that this was because Annabeth was secretly in love with Frank, but she insisted that nothing had ever happened.“’Course not,” David agreed loyally when Valentina proposed that this couldn’t be too hard for them to do. “We’ll sort it. Eventually.” Even if he did, while still not having that passion for it, agree that Potions was better. Either they were working with books and facts and ideas, which he liked, or they were following straightforward directions. He had picked up, reading around the library, that it got harder as one went along, but for now, that was great, at least for his GPA or Sonora equivalent.
He watched, too, as shoes began to reappear on their desks. It was always fun, if not a little strange and occasionally unnerving, to watch things revert to their original forms after a transfiguration, though he did look forward to the day he was able to transfigure things for a long time, maybe even permanently. That was gonna be cool, if he could score well enough on his standardized tests to get to continue on to that level. He just hoped they weren’t too like Muggle standardized tests, with all the little bubbles. He hated the bubbles, because he spent way too much time carefully filling in each one, then he always got confused at some point, answered twenty in the wrong bubbles before he realized he’d missed one, and then had to go back and erase. He was frankly surprised he’d never started a cheating scandal messing up like that and making it look like someone had erased the class dumb kid’s answers.
Though thinking about all that did make him rethink his own question before he answered it. “I don’t know if I’m waiting for electives or just for advanced classes,” he admitted. “All the stuff the older years can do, you know, you read about it and it sounds so darn cool…and we can’t do it.” He smiled and shrugged. “I’ve never been that good at waiting and building up to stuff. Mom says I went straight from nothing to walking. But yeah, those are reasons why Potions is awesome.” He put his wand flat on the desk and rolled it beneath his hand a few times. “I just don’t know, you know, how hard intermediates are going to be yet, and we have to add what we’re going to add right at the beginning or not even have a chance at it, right? I don’t like that. We need a shopping week or something. At least let us see Fawcett’s syllabus and talk to some of the new classmates before we make commitments.”
16
David
Like you said - it's dull.
169
David
0
5
Renée
May 04, 2011 8:26 PM
How's the networking going? by Renée
Her mind wandered but came back to her in time to see another neighbor manage to make progress on the shoe. She waited for herself to feel that familiar stirrings of competition, and then became impatient with herself when no such stirrings came. "Usorlibrum." The spell came out in a bored sigh and she knew even before she had finished casting that it wasn't going to work. She had a natural affinity for getting things quickly... she also had an affinity for being lazy and distracted. She was distracted now.Playing with the gloves, feeling the fabric, imagining herself in a ball room dancing. She was taller in her mind, and her long dark curls even longer, a gorgeous dress on, and the dance floor had become forest green and soft against her bare feet. The partners in her mind alternated between her brother and her father, the two of them laughing and twirling her around the large broad trunks of trees that had sprung up in the dance hall. At a point it was just her and Gabriel dancing, bright dark brown eyes smiling at each other, and then it was just her dancing in what was now a complete forest. Her feet were bare, her dress was ripped, her hair wearing a crown of fallen leaves, and the only thing respectable remaining were the gloves.
"Usorlibrum." Renée blinked and looked down at the shoe she'd just transfigured. "Puede ser tan fácil?" She mumbled in light surprise and pulled what looked like an intact book towards her. The cover was a bright red with no title but the design of what looked like an "R" in green. Something a small child who was still learning how to write individual letters and numbers would try to draw. She pulled open the book in growing excitement at her first publication, but her face relaxed in idle amusement at the series of blank pages in front of her, all bright green. She flipped through the blank pages for a minute, but then stopped as she saw what looked like writing in one of the pages near the back of the book. "... and the girl danced, and the girl danced... and the girl danced. She danced in wild abandon, with reckless unseemly impulses, that betrayed the high superiority of her birth. She danced with her instincts and passions leading the way. She danced like the commonest basest muggle."
Renée blinked at the words, having unwittingly spoken them out loud though quietly. "That's not what I was thinking." She was indignant and closed the book, no more writing in it to be looked over. She glanced at her gloved hands touching the leather spine and took them off, wanting to forget about dancing, and wanting to redo the shoe-book. It looked nice, but it hadn't become what she'd wanted. She'd try again and get it right. She cast another glance, this one much more open and curious than the last, at Sara Raines. She could feel her energy for competition return in full. This time it was directed at herself, and her own annoying non-passive mind.
0
Renée
How's the networking going?
0
Renée
0
5
Eliza
May 05, 2011 9:54 PM
Depends on the subject by Eliza
Eliza’s dark eyes widened in surprise at James’ response. She opened and closed her mouth several times, trying to find some response to that, but, as was typical for her in the moment of an insult, nothing came. Inspiration always seemed to flee right when she needed it most, leaving her gaping like a fish while people were impolite to her.She turned her head to watch him as, for some reason, he walked to the front in his socks and got one of the professor’s shoes. How dare he speak to her that way? She had been nice to him, and that was his response? It was no wonder he didn’t have any friends. The only startling thing was that he wasn’t best friends with That Girl instead of potential enemies, since they were both horrid and shouldn’t have even been allowed to come around other people because they could do nothing but cause problems.
“You're a fine one to talk,” Eliza replied coldly when, getting another thing that was clearly a book, Owen promptly denounced the class. “Just because you’re magic-smart enough to make a book the first time you try doesn’t mean you should just yell at other people because we can’t. You should go sit with that horrid Errant girl beside Sara and let her come over here so that we’ll all be with our own kind.” She tossed her hair over her shoulder angrily. “Just when I thought this place couldn’t let people any less polite in after That Girl,” she said. “I’m pretty sure even she would just gloat if someone paid her a compliment.”
0
Eliza
Depends on the subject
0
Eliza
0
5
Topher
May 05, 2011 9:57 PM
Yeah, but pointy things can usually hurt you more by Topher
Sara…Oh, yeah. Sara. The dainty little second year. Topher didn’t know her, but the first and second year group was small enough that he’d pretty much learned everyone’s name before they went home for the holidays. He guessed she and Fae must have crossed paths a little more often than she and he had.He shrugged to the question of why someone would turn their shoe into a book. “I know people who would,” he admitted. “If they didn’t have a real book on them, anyway. Most of them usually would.” How he’d never picked that habit up, Topher didn’t know, but he wasn’t entirely sorry about it. No matter what his mom said, he wasn’t smart enough to back up that kind of image, so it was better for everyone that he never even got that image in the first place. “It is kind of a brain-stretcher, though. For one thing, there’s what you said about knowing it that well, and then – “ he gestured futilely, trying to find the words. “There’s nothing in common.”
That was something Topher had noticed about transfiguration even before he came to school. Anything, usually, would do in a pinch, but it almost always worked better if there was some kind of link between the objects, even if it was just a word in common with two totally different objects. Or maybe that was just how the person who’d invented Transfiguration had thought or something, with a liking for dumb associations and bad puns. Whatever. It was still weird to be given an assignment where the two objects had nothing, size-wise or etymologically (he thought that was the right big word), in common.
He laughed when Fae disavowed any interest in trying the second spell out on one of her shoes. “Yeah, I’m with you there,” he said. He didn’t trust himself that far, especially since he didn’t have that many pairs of shoes at school and was currently wearing his favorites. The second question caused him more of a pause. “I don’t really know about that,” he said. “Maybe it’s on what kind of book you’re aiming for?”
0
Topher
Yeah, but pointy things can usually hurt you more
0
Topher
0
5
Sara
May 05, 2011 9:59 PM
Quite poorly, I think. by Sara
Sara was working quietly on her wand movement before she attempted the shoe again, as she thought that might make her next attempt more successful, when suddenly Miss Errant began to talk about a girl dancing. When she said something about base Muggles, even after a comment about the high birth of the girl in question, Sara looked all the way over at her in wide-eyed and slightly indignant surprise. The high birth comment must have been sarcasm, and somehow, Sara had a feeling this had something to do with her cousin Catherine….Or not, since it turned out Miss Errant was reading from her book, which had a big ‘R’ on the front in truly dreadful handwriting. Her brown eyes moved from the book to the slightly garish gloves.
If Sara assumed that had not been an attempt at insulting her because her father’s cousin’s wife had carried on an affair with a Muggleborn gardener for many years, then it could seem logical, especially with the monogram, to assume Miss Errant had been talking about…herself. If so, she certainly had a conflicted view of herself, but that wasn’t even the thing. The thing was that the statement had ‘half-blood’ written all over it.
That was impossible, though. Miss Errant had been invited to a formal function over midterm. She was in Crotalus. Her affinity for Quidditch meant she might be either very foolish or one of those girls, but still. Sara was going to have to write home and ask for more information about her.
Her eyebrows lifted slightly at the comment about how that was not what Miss Errant had been thinking. “It seems it was,” she said. “Otherwise, it wouldn’t have been there.” Seeing that the other girl was watching, she picked up her wand and made the now-perfected wand movement again, saying, “Usorlibrum,” at the same time. The book came out smoother this time, and the now-legible title appeared to be a social history of magical Illinois.
Well, at least she could explain that much better than she could have disjointed sentences about behaving vulgarly being a sign of high birth, much less Muggle birth qualifying as such.
0
Sara
Quite poorly, I think.
0
Sara
0
5
Renée
May 05, 2011 11:18 PM
Your social skills <i>do</i> seem to be lacking. by Renée
Renée raised a brow at Sara's comment. "No." She stated simply. "I just hadn't gotten the spell right." She looked down at the title that had appeared on Sara's book. It occurred to Renée suddenly - and though she had made her peace with her sorting there were still traces of bitterness in her mind - that somehow her name and Sara Raines had gotten mixed up and that was why the society obsessed twelve year old was stuck in Pecari, while the societal secure princess was trapped in the den of plots, whispers and vicious gossip. 'It's meant to be. I'd be too happy in Pecari. How utterly boring.' Struggling for her freedom every single day at least gave her something to do. If she achieved her freedom, somehow made it over to the brave knights and beautiful princesses of Pecari, what would she have to occupy her time then?She was looking at her book, raising her wand again, and spoke clearly. "Usorlibrum." Once again her mind hadn't focused, and the book tried to tell her what she was thinking. This time the binding was perfect, and she was startled by the brightness of the red cover. She paused, not sure she was going to like what she read, based on the title. Una niña de la máscara. The writing looked more like her own, but when she had just mastered the language. The letters curved more, and dotted the cover as if the ink was still fresh. Though of course there was no ink.
In one sense, a very large sense, Renée knew she was different from the other Crotalus girls. She could enjoy her status in New York which went unchallenged, and she could enjoy the many joys of Spain. The family was wealthier than most, and by and large Renée didn't have to deal with having to become friends with someone to increase social standing. She came from a family where the grownups had their own dealings, and weren't so fragile or pathetic that they had to use their own children to advance their standing in society. Renée was free from all that. She remained mainly ignorant of it too.
What she was not free from, was the deception. Soledad and Oro had entrusted her with but one task; keep up the pureblood facade. It was easy enough to do, she had already considered herself a princess anyway. Gabriel had told her she was. But having to denounce David as nothing more than her mother's eccentricity, having to pretend to have had another father who had died in service to Spain, having to pretend that she was something she was not... all towards what end? Not her own advancement. But it was keeping the family together, somehow. Reputation was apparently important, and Errantez power had prevented any of the dark secrets (of which there were numerous) to come out about the family.
Renée flipped open the book, her own mind a confused jumble of thoughts and feelings that she could not make out and was unused to. Her eyes landed on the first page, startled to see familiar curly handwriting that continued on for half of the book. "Following a path not my own, the strands of fate tied and twisted, dragging me along..." Her voice trailed off as she read on. She leaned back a little in her chair, raising the words closer to her face, unaware of the back of the book which had a blurb on it reading: The narrative of a young woman startled at her family's ball by the appearance of Vision. Vision tells her she may choose two paths. One of respectability, comfort, and the possibility of true love. The other, a life of movement, passion, constant uncertainties, and loss of status.' The blurb continued on but Renée's hand was unwittingly covering it.
She closed the book, upset at the words inside. 'This girl isn't me.' She looked around the room for a distraction, but there was nothing. 'Something become entertaining now!' She cast her wand on the book and spoke forcefully, imitating Soledad instinctively, and her coolly controlled voice; the one that knew it was already going to be obeyed. "Usorlibrum." There was a pause, and then the entire book seemed to ripple, the color red changing to burgundy, the title Una niña de la máscara changing to Las mujeres sabias which was printed in script. It looked much more like her abuela's handwriting.
Renée blinked, and then broke into a wide smile, remembering the French comedy Marianna had taken her to when visiting Arlette in Paris, as well as showcasing the newest Marianna designs. "Finally." She spoke quietly, opening the book and looked on as the script filled out words that weren't Molière's but that summed up in a bilingual mixture of Spanish and English what Renée could remember of the simple plot. She flipped the pages, starting to read now that she had a better handle on the spell.
0
Renée
Your social skills <i>do</i> seem to be lacking.
0
Renée
0
5
Sara
May 05, 2011 11:46 PM
...I beg your <i>pardon</i>? by Sara
Sara bit the inside of her mouth and reminded herself that it would be improper to point out how very thin, in light of what Professor Crosby had said, Miss Errant’s excuse was. She had to have been thinking of something along those lines, or it wouldn’t have appeared in the book. That was all. But since there was nothing to be gained from doing that, she didn’t do it.“Whatever you say,” she said instead, her tone mildly skeptical, as she opened her book, curious to see how the spell had worked. She had learned a great deal of social history over the years – the cover looked very like one of the books her tutor had taught her from, actually, and was most likely using right now with her brother Alan – but she didn’t know if what was inside would be all of it, or just what she could consciously remember, or even all correct. The limits of magic, as she’d sort of admitted in front of Mr. Stratford at the Sinclairs’, interested her, however little relevance they really had to her future life.
She was interrupted by Miss Errant beginning to read aloud again, and bit the inside of her mouth again to ask how strange the girl’s family was if they could afford ugly monogrammed gloves but couldn’t even hire a tutor good enough to teach her to read inside her head instead of bothering everyone around her. Perhaps they were that sort of New Rich, the ones who didn’t make any effort at blending and marrying into the society they had forced to recognize them by virtue of money. Oh, dear, she needed to be more careful where she sat. Being seen with one of that sort, when her family dedicated so much of its energies to making themselves acceptable to the truly old money, could be disastrous for her.
Instead, she glanced at Miss Errant’s new work, which appeared to be some kind of sensationalistic novel. Perhaps the girl liked silly romances. Then the work changed again. “You read Spanish,” she noted. “How did you learn it?”
0
Sara
...I beg your <i>pardon</i>?
0
Sara
0
5
Renée
May 06, 2011 1:06 AM
Well at least you've got the"begging your superiors"down pat by Renée
Here's where the problem lied: Renée was an honest person. She wasn't excessively kind, studious, or a constant pleasure to be round. But she had been born honest; a face that exposed and showcased the million emotions she felt in a day, a mind that was attunely connected to her honest desires, warping reality around just for her, and a privileged mouth that professed any thought that flitted across, always needing to be expressed. And yet, a large part of her identity had been taken away from her, and she had begun to act with subtle differences to her character. She felt like an apple that had been bitten without permission; sweet juice dripping down the culprit's chin, turning away from her after that one bite, leaving her exposed and allowed only the anxiety of the inevitable taint that would hit her, turning the white-green flesh of the apple into patches of brown.Sara asked a question that was perfectly innocent, and yet something within Renée thought she knew the truth behind it. Just as she had sensed with Daisy Thorpe, just as she had sensed from a (in the end) blatant Arthur Carey and Fae Sinclair. And the truth was, that there was no honesty in the interaction. Frustration passed across her eyes, hidden only by the book that she was still facing, and she found herself yearning to snap, 'Well, being Spanish certainly helps.' But the frustration didn't linger. Strong emotions like that never did for her, and she was back to realizing that someone was paying her attention. Honest feelings demanded that she bask in whatever form of attentiveness she could get.
"I'm the only one on my mother's side who was born in America." She answered her, continuing to idly turn the pages of the script, enjoying the inconsistencies of plot her mind had conjured up. Somehow, Gabriel had landed in her story. "My mother spoke Spanish to me as a baby, my... step-father spoke to me in English. My brother writes me in Spanish. Mis abuelos sólo hablan español para mí." She smiled, turning another page where her old dog, Marinero, had suddenly appeared, now being petted by one of Moliere's characters, Armande. "If I want to be able to talk to them, then I have to keep constantly practicing. Otherwise..." She paused, imagining what it would be like. Gabriel only really spoke English to her when they had company. David was fluent in Spanish (in his line of work he was required to be fluent in several languages) so they could talk Spanish in front of him. Their Brooklyn home was bilingual. But if she stopped speaking Spanish constantly, she would be stuck with just the basic vocabulary she had gathered as a child. She wouldn't be able to communicate in sophisticated terms that she strained for now. Conversations with Marianna, with Gabriel... in a foreign tongue. Unnatural for them, and so unnatural for her. Dishonest.
"Otherwise it would just be hard." Her fingers turned another page, stroking the binding of the paper, testing how strong the parchment and stitches felt. "And you? Do you speak any other languages?" Mild curiosity flooded into her tone, though her excitement levels were back to low, because speaking another language would be interesting and she was sure that if Sara had been interesting, Renée would have felt it instantly the moment they had sat down, or spoken to each other. As instant as it had been with Sophia, or Neal. 'Then again, she is a Pecari. There's got to be something interesting about her.' If only her attention span wasn't so easily swayed. Her eyes flitted quickly around the room, and she managed to stifle a laugh when she thought she caught Eliza glaring in her direction. And was it her name that crossed her roommate's lips? 'Okay, now that's too self-involved. Even for you, mi querida.' She could hear Marianna's amused beratement, feel the comforting breath against her ear, chin pressed on her scalp, letting her know she was always there for her. Even through the countless weeks when she was gone, or the months Renée had to stay away at school. She focused now on Sara, giving it a moment before she decided whether or not this was worth her (admittedly) complete gap of empty time to squander.
0
Renée
Well at least you've got the"begging your superiors"down pat
0
Renée
0
5
James
May 06, 2011 5:48 AM
I guess you don't win the insult round by James
"You're a fine one to talk." James blinked and looked up at the girl who'd originally addressed him. He'd completely forgotten she was there. She seemed to be in some sort of bad mood with him, and he couldn't imagine why. He had told her to go away, but she'd been insulting him on his work, so he thought that was perfectly justified. Why she'd decided to keep on at him was anyone's guess. He was about to retort that he didn't yell at her, he just asked her to go away, but she was still talking, and making little to no sense about some people James didn't know."What Errant girl?" he asked despite his better judgment. He should have just ignored her - she was probably just jealous that his book actually looked like a book, despite having no words in it - but he wanted to know what she was on about. It might explain why she was being so rude to him. "And who is Sara?" He frowned, and then thought of a more valid question. "And who are you, anyway? What have I ever done to you to make you start insulting me? You think that just because you've got more money than me that you can just say whatever you like, that it doesn't matter?" he asked hotly. He could tell she had more money, and not just because everyone did, but because all her things looked new. She was also really annoying, with the way she tossed her hair when she was talking to him, and okay that didn't prove that she had more money but it did prove she was annoying.
James huffed. All he'd wanted to do was to get through this class without being shown up by some over-acheiving first years. He hadn't even wanted a partner; he definitely hadn't wanted some unprovoked confrontation with a girl who was openly insulting him and rambling on about nothing logical.
0
James
I guess you don't win the insult round
0
James
0
5
Josephine
May 06, 2011 6:05 AM
Being average means being better than some by Josephine
The girl Josephine had asked - Alice, she thought her name was - replied in a sort of mechanical way that the needle was just that. "I'll take that as a yes," Josephine said, and she placed the fat needle down on her desk with satisfaction. She looked over at probably-Alice to confirm her name, and she saw the other girl had put a shoe on the desk. this demosntrated that she was going to try the second spell, but that fact barely registeres with josephine as she admired the footware. They were just plan Mary Janes, but they were nice-looking. They weren't horribly scruffed or broken or stained because the wrong color polish had been used at some stage in their existence. She was sort of transfixed for a moment, until she realized she'd been staring. Just in case Alice had noticed, Josephine said, "I like you shoes."The Pecari was momentarily embarrassed by her own shoes, but not enough that she didn't mind taking off the one on her right foot and placing it on the desk. It was an old white buckle-up, except it wasn't white anymore, and the leather was deformed where it had stretched over Josephine's big toe to accomodate her gradual growth (she may be one of the shortest people in the room but that didn't mean she wasn't growing, little by little). The shoe's one saving grace was the large straw daisy that Josephine had tied to the strap. She'd colored the petals in with pink and purple inks to make the shoes more distinctive and attractive. She thought her own addition might make it more difficult to transfigure - since it wasn't tecnically part of the shoe - so she set about untying the flower. With it successfully removed, she placed it to one side and gazed at her own, plain shoe with distaste.
Before she cast the spell, Josephine decided to make the introduction she'd intended on doing earlier. "Is your name Alice?" she asked her neighbor. "Mine is Josephine."
0
Josephine
Being average means being better than some
0
Josephine
0
5
Eliza
May 06, 2011 12:53 PM
Not usually, no by Eliza
For a moment, Eliza just stared at James Owen, her expression one of perfect confusion. Then she blinked, shook her head slightly, and started over.“No,” she said, taking his points in reverse order because that was the way the presentation of her answers would make the most sense. “I didn’t start insulting you until I thought you had started insulting me. You can get something that looks like a book, a lot of rest of us, including me, can’t, I asked you for advice, and you snapped at me.” She forced the annoyance that had crept back into her tone back down. “I assumed you were saying I was too stupid to talk to. I found that offensive.”
Now on to the bigger matters. “I’m Eliza Bennett. Crotalus. We were Sorted together. Sara is Sara Raines, the little Pecari over there.” She jerked her chin slightly in Sara’s direction. “She was Sorted with us, too. And That Girl is – “ she made a face; it had been a long time since she had declared That Girl unworthy of a name so long as she acted like an uncivilized beast, and she hadn’t uttered the one That Girl claimed since – “Renee Errant,” she said, and then took a breath, reminding herself to be calm. “Someone screwed up and put her into Crotalus at the same time as me. She also set a Niffler on you in the library.”
This was all giving her more to think about. The problem was what it did for his potential as an ally. On one hand, he’d make a fantastic witness to Pierce about That Girl’s erratic, dangerous nature, since he was as clearly not a Crotalus girl as anyone could be, but on the other…What sort of person didn’t even bother to figure out who his enemies were? Did he not even remember that incident, either?
0
Eliza
Not usually, no
0
Eliza
0
5
Ryan
May 07, 2011 2:21 AM
That's too bad. by Ryan
He looked over his book, still unsure whether or not to open it. Ryan did not want his thoughts displayed on pages. He knew it was very very dangerous to express his opinion, had learned that before he'd even had opinions to express.Ryan was pretty sure that wasn't always a good thing either. Daisy had not seemed the least bit impressed at the Opening Feast when he'd failed to do more than repeat back what she'd said to him. He wasn't too sure the other Crotalus liked him much and Ryan wasn't really that okay with it. He really needed to be liked.
But if he told people what he thought, he would get yelled at or disliked for that. It put Ryan in an impossible situation. Half the time the Crotalus did not know what to do. Which made him feel stupid, like his mother always said he was.
“Hey Ryan, awesome job.”
Ryan looked over to see Marcus Williams "Thanks!" He replied, beaming. He'd never spoken to the other second year before, but he seemed nice enough. Truly, Ryan didn't dislike anyone in his class, though he was a bit wary of Renee for some reason he couldn't quite figure out-probably because he was as slow as his mother said-and Daisy, whom Ryan didn't think really liked him. Nova Wynn had been sort of scary as well, she reminded Ryan of Tawny and the girl with the cold eyes who was some relative on his dad's side but Nova didn't seem to be around anymore.
Other than that, they seemed like a pleasant group of people. Even James, who seemed rather grumpy in general, had been pleasant enough to Ryan. He looked over at Marcus's work. "You did well too." The Crotalus replied. Marcus had. Ryan considered any progress to be good, especially in what was considered such a hard subject, though it was probably Ryan's best. "This is a lot easier than what we were doing before, huh?" He asked Marcus.
11
Ryan
That's too bad.
176
Ryan
0
5
Sara
May 07, 2011 3:32 PM
*Looks around* No, no superiors of mine are here. by Sara
Sara took the information she was given and filed it away for inclusion in that letter home, thanking all goodness that she had a strong set of international connections through Mother and Aunt Margaret. A fact which, now that it occurred to her, caused another thought to be filed away under another category, the one loosely titled ‘Socially Advancing Here Despite My House And Year.’Uncle Charles had a catchphrase, one used only inside the family: onward and upward. Aunt Margaret used it sometimes, too. Sara thought, despite having its origins being directly related to her great-grandfather being a butcher and her family one of the newest monies of the old-blood-new-money set to wriggle a way into the level of society more or less directly below that of the true upper class, it was a good life philosophy. Improvement in all things was to be striven for constantly, with dedication and a willingness to sacrifice personal pleasures. There was no point in doing anything that didn’t lead to tangible improvements of some kind.
“I do,” she said when asked about her own knowledge of foreign languages. “Spanish and French are my strongest – Mother spoke French to me when I was small, and my father’s cousin is Margaret Mendoza.” She realized her voice was tinged with an immodest note of pride, and suppressed it, but wasn’t too sorry about it. “She married a retired Spanish ambassador to the Cabinet while he was active, and they’re still in Madrid. I tour Europe with her in the summers.” She flipped through a few pages of her book, noting the strength of the type, and the font face. It was curlier than she had expected, but still definitely print, not her handwriting. As she’d remembered. “I think she said something about Switzerland this year.”
She realized she was very nearly bragging and blushed slightly, focusing her eyes back on her work. What was wrong with her? That was not how you went on and played the game. Not when you were a Pecari girl with no close friends, anyway. A Pecari girl who felt secure enough to brag was either delusional or just utterly unpleasant and unfit for social success. This really was turning into a bad day.
0
Sara
*Looks around* No, no superiors of mine are here.
0
Sara
0
5
James
May 07, 2011 4:30 PM
I could tell. by James
Oh. She had been asking him for advice? So that syllable stress question had actually been genuine? Well that explained a few things. "I wasn't saying you were stupid," James now did his part ot correct the situation, "I was saying the class was stupid. I thought you were being sarcastic when you asked how I cast the spell," he explained. "It was just such an awful looking book I thought you had to be insulting me for it. That's why I snapped at you." She probably would have done the same in his shoes, he was pretty sure of it.Eliza continued to explain things, and now that James knew who everyone was and what she was taling about everything made a lot more sense. "Yeah, she's a real troll," James said, having identified Niffler Girl. "She fell asleep in the water room once and was drifting a lake for hours," he said, his tone making it clear that he didn't think this was anything to be proud of.
Forgetting Niffler Girl almost in the following moment, James looked back at his book, and then to Eliza. "So you're having trouble with the spell?" he clarified. They had gotten off on the wrong foot (so to speak) and she might not be quite as stupid and annoying as he'd first thought when he believed she'd gotten catty for no reason. "I can't get text to appear in mine," he admitted, "which is why this class is stupid. One of the reasons this class is stupid," he corrected himself. "But if you get any points for making it look like a book from the outside then I suppose I get those."
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James
I could tell.
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James
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5
Renée
May 08, 2011 1:15 PM
*hands over glasses* I think you could use these. by Renée
Renée’s eyes widened in surprise. “Tu tío debe haber conocido a mi abuelo.” She spoke quickly; her tongue seemed physically unable to move slowly when she was speaking Spanish. And while the words were rushed, they were easily enough discerned by a fluent speaker. “Fue un embajador también." In one of their unofficial “just-don’t-call-it-what-it-is” bonding moments, Oro had sat his little half-blood shame upon his lap, relating to her the proud history of what only half of her could truly enjoy. She had already known some of it from pestering Marianna, but Oro Errantez was a good story teller and Renée had dutifully listened to his tale. Among other details, Renée had clung to the stories of the many diplomats of the family, realizing with surprise that the passion for travel which she and Gabriel shared was nothing more than the product of countless generations after generations of diplomats serving Spain with the last name, or common ancestry, of “Errantez.”Oro had been the Spanish diplomat to France, but had grown bored of seeing only one country and had requested to be switched to whatever country his finger landed on. It landed on Dakhla, and amidst the laughter of his peers Oro traveled there happily, though he had been aiming for a more exciting place to be sent. There he had met Soledad, who longed to see the world as well. He married her after only a summer of knowing her, brought her back to Spain with him, left to go back to being the French ambassador after a special request from the ministry there, and spent many happy years in that position before he appointed his nephew to the position. While it wasn't official, and certainly wasn't legal, may of the old pureblood families held positions in government that had been passed down to them for countless generations. Diplomacy happened to be one position that many of the male Errantez craved. Travel and exploration was something that all the men, women, and anybody who married into the family had to need with a passion.
"I've never been to Switzerland." Renée watched Sara with a bit more curiosity, interest reawakened at the knowledge that she was already fluent in three languages, traveled, and had a diplomat in her family too. "But I love Spain. We have a home in Seville, but my uncle works in Madrid. My brother, I think, loves Barcelona the best but my grandmother won't let me go there until I'm sixteen." It made her crave that unexplored portion of Spain all the more. "This past summer I went to Paris with friends, and that was my first time. Besides that," She thought for a moment, the summers and various countries rolling together in her mind. She couldn't quite discern from the fleeting images of color that captivated her. "I went to Montreal when I was only a baby really, and then we make trips to Belize and Mexico and Guatemala." Actually they had been to Ecuador and Venezuela but she often confused countries with one another.
She thought Sara had seemed a bit embarrassed for some reason, though couldn't imagine what would have caused the color to seep into her face. "Usorlibrum." She pointed at her book and laughed lightly in delight at the perfect cover she had achieved, good mood restored in full. An Errant Guide to the World. She picked up the book and admired the cover, running her hands over it in light touches. It was a picture of one of the many sights Marianna had taken her on David's request to see. The Torre del Oro. Not the prettiest landmark of Seville but it had amused her that there was a landmark in her abuelo's name and had forged a connection with it.
"Where else you have you been?" She asked, opening the book where sketches of maps filled a few pages. She glanced over them in pleasure. 'As usual, this class has amused me. Well done, Crosby.' "Or, where else do you want to go?"
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Renée
*hands over glasses* I think you could use these.
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Renée
0
5
Valentina
May 09, 2011 6:03 PM
*agrees* by Valentina
Valentina was curious about the ball squishy things, she assumed it was a Muggle thing, but what she had experienced with her squishy cube had been pretty great. Squishing it had been entertaining and distracting, maybe Muggles had a good idea there, and from what she had gathered from David, he was a Muggleborn or Half-blood. It didn’t matter to her, as long as her father didn’t know, which she doubted he would ever find out. So, Valentina was not worried about it. She was having a good time working with him, and she didn’t see a real valid reason to stop doing it just because of his blood status, that was nonsense to her. Then again, maybe it had to do with the fact that she hadn’t been raised under such strict ideals. Dwelling on such things was a waste of time, she was sure.The Teppenpaw nodded vigorously at his agreeing remark. It was nice of him to do so. The second-year watched the shoe she was using for a few minutes, going through what she could be doing wrong. She was certain she would eventually get it, it couldn’t be that hard, but right now she was more interested in David than in transfiguring anything. So far, her grades were more or less decent, and her mother had not said anything about them. Valentina was glad about that.
The Spaniard listened to him talk, her mind threatening to wander away, not because she was bored of him, but because she usually daydreamed about ballet. Her mother always reprimanded her on that. “Oh!” she exclaimed excitedly. “Advanced classes seem to be interesting and hard. I think that I may be looking forward, but I am still a second-year. A lot to learn before that,” she finished with a smile. The blue-eyed second year nodded in agreement to his last statement. It was fair to give the students some time to take those decisions, it was better. That way they would be sure about what they wanted to do.
“Yes, I think that would be a good idea. Professor Fawcett’s classes are sort of hard,” she admitted. Even when she liked potions, the professor always made them work extra hard, and if his beginners classes were like that, she couldn’t even imagine what his advanced classes were like. It made her want to shudder. “I can’t imagine what his advanced classes would entail.” She was half afraid and half excited, she really liked that class.
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Valentina
*agrees*
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Valentina
0
5
Eliza
May 09, 2011 6:04 PM
We all have different talents by Eliza
Eliza was surprised enough by James’s answer about why he’d snapped at her to wonder, for one second, if he was making it up. Then she reminded herself that it didn’t matter, so long as she didn’t make new enemies. Having one enemy was plenty for her, really more than plenty considering the amount of stress and energy that went into maintaining her, so everyone else needed to be at worst neutral or preferably an ally she could use against her enemy. “I just thought you were being creative and liked old books,” she said. “Grandfather does.”Eliza liked Grandfather better than almost any of her relatives except Paul and Father, and Grandmother was sweet, too. Harrison and Malinda Bennett were soft-spoken and self-contained beings who had politely absented themselves from the social-climber scene years ago, instead preferring to live quietly on a remote estate in Oregon and collect old books and have the occasional dinner party, at which, if the examples Paul and Eliza had spied on were anything to go by, they socialized with other old people and discussed philosophy. It wasn’t the kind of thing Eliza personally found interesting, but it was quiet and gentle, the complete polar opposite of Mother.
“But it’s okay now,” she added. It was a relief to see that clearing the air could work out well, instead of blowing up in her face the way it had when she tried it with That Girl.
She made note of the water incident, trying to see how to use it. “She doesn’t care anything about anything except being annoying,” she said. “Living with her is horrible.”
Eliza nodded when James said he couldn’t get the text to appear, but could get any points for book shape. “It’s still better than I can do,” she said. She did not consider this to be admitting a weakness, because all she had was a shoe in front of her, making it obvious to anyone who looked that she was having trouble with the spell. “That’s why I was asking how you stressed the spell word. I think I have the wand movement right, so that’s all I could think of that I might be doing wrong.”
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Eliza
We all have different talents
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Eliza
0
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Fae
May 10, 2011 7:40 PM
You make a good point. by Fae
Her blue eyes widened in surprise when Topher admitted to knowing people who would need to use their shoe as a book. She still didn’t understand why a shoe. Why not a leaf or a piece of parchment? Why a shoe? “Oh…” Fae said quietly, hopefully she hadn’t offended him. “Well, I suppose that’s means you know some interesting people.” She faded off after a moment, blushing slightly out of embarrassment because she felt like an idiot for having said anything at all about it.“I can understand why a person would want to have a book on hand. There are certain moments in a day where keeping your mind busy with a story outweighs sitting idly with nothing to do at all.” Fae explained. “What I can’t understand is why it’s a shoe.”
Fae was beginning to think that this was the sort of lesson where Alice was needed to explain some things. Or, explain them in a way that Alice only could. Fae may not still understand it all, but she felt she might have a better grasp on how it all worked. For instance, asking if the type of shoe mattered might have been better explained to Fae by Alice than by Topher, but she appreciated his try anyway. “How will I know that?” She asked openly, not really for him to answer because she was sure that he probably couldn’t.
Sighing, Fae stood up and made her way over to the shoes, figuring Topher would follow since he said that he was going to try the spell. She looked over all the shoes carefully. “Hm… what story would I like to tell…” She mumbled as she looked. There were new sneakers, pumps, flats, even flipflops. Fae was not a show boater. She didn’t like to be the center of attention, but she also didn’t like to be invisible either. And considering being invisible was exactly how she felt, she feared her book would portray just that.
Fae decided on a teal slipper flat and took it back to her seat. She had no idea how she was going to make it work. “What if it comes out all jumbled? Half the time I can’t keep up with my own thoughts let alone put them all together coherently to create a book…” Fae frowned and looked over at Topher. “Do you remember the wand movement? I’ve forgotten.”
0
Fae
You make a good point.
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Fae
0
5
Marcus
May 12, 2011 7:50 PM
First step is admittance by Marcus
Marcus sat looking at his ‘not so much of a book’ book for a moment. He really didn’t think he had done a very good job at all, but Ryan’s compliment was nice just the same. Of course, Ryan’s book actually looked like a book while Marcus’s just looked like a deflated sneaker. He was definitely glad that he had chosen not to use his own sneaker for this demonstration otherwise, he’d be one foot short of a sneaker and very very angry at himself.“You’d think this would be easier…” Marcus mumbled, looking closely at his work. “I mean, it’s not breathing, so that’s definitely a plus, but I can’t seem to get this thing to look like a book.” Just as he spoke, the ‘book’ returned to his form as a sneaker. Marcus sighed. Well, at least he was able to have another shot at it. Probably wouldn’t turn out any different than it had before, but his Ma always said that practice makes perfect, so he had to do what needed to be done.
“Do you think she got into trouble with her boss?” Marcus whispered to Ryan. It wasn’t hard for anyone to see that Crosby had made some big changes. For one, her hair was brushed. And two, she was wearing actual shoes and appropriate clothes. On top of the physical change of her looks, Crosby was actually teaching a lesson that was more within their level than she had in the past. “Maybe our grades were horrible and the board stepped in or something?” Marcus suggested, looking curiously up at their professor. He wouldn’t be surprised if that was the case considering all the mumbling that was going around the school from all years that something was bound to change.
Marcus waved his wand again and said the spell, the book changed again. It still had the brown shoe look, but not nearly as terrible and this time, it had pages… with nothing on them. “Huh…” He said, looking at it. “You think that the book will always look like this because the shoe looks like this?” Marcus suddenly cracked up. “You know, I think some girls at my last school would say something about the blank pages. Like ‘we always knew there was nothing in there’.” Marcus had no trouble laughing at himself.
6
Marcus
First step is admittance
180
Marcus
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5
Arthur Carey, Aladren
May 12, 2011 11:10 PM
I am not amused by Arthur Carey, Aladren
There were days when Arthur questioned the stupidity of the adult population. Days like the one when his father had called him out on spying on the adults, or when he or his brother were with the Healers, or any time the Fourth stopped smiling like a pleasant, slightly senile old man and got that look around his eyes.Today was not one of those days.
For a few seconds after the professor, having finished expressing disdain for them, announced the first years’ assignment, Arthur had simply studied her, waiting for the punch line of the joke. When none had become apparent, he had made a note beneath the standard date and topic information on his first page of notes for the day, written in the secondary code because it was risky enough to have any codes when the point of the primary one was to keep his files from being traced back to him if they were found and writing anything outside his files in that was asking for trouble. It was not flattering. Then he turned a match into a needle.
He contemplated the shoes, wondering if he ought to at least go through the motions. This was a class he was going to have to keep, Transfiguration was too useful to walk away with a CATS level knowledge of, but surely one day of being an insolent, lazy twit wouldn’t ruin him for life….
But it could. He didn’t forgive or forget easily, so why should Crosby? She was Head of a House, even if it was only Teppenpaw, when she was still very young, and she didn’t seem like the type for manipulation, so she had to be blackmailing someone. That implied she had a good memory for details. Making one mistake really could upset all.
He went and got a shoe, which quickly assumed the form of a book. The writing inside, to his displeasure, did not fill it, though, and was in his handwriting. He read a few lines, realized it was a file on him, and quickly blotted it out with his wand. He couldn’t risk someone snatching it away from him while he waited for it to revert.
Once it did, he focused very hard on thinking about bunnies, because that was supposed to be a nice neutral pleasant topic, while transfiguring. The book turned out rabbit-shaped, heavy pages – a children’s book. He gave it a look that implied, for any who cared to look, that he was not amused.
“That was not anticipated,” he said.
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Arthur Carey, Aladren
I am not amused
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Arthur Carey, Aladren
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5
Arnold Carey, Aladren
May 12, 2011 11:50 PM
Cannot. Seem. To. Concentrate.... by Arnold Carey, Aladren
Arnold was feeling unusually energetic as he came into Transfiguration, tapping his foot on the floor and the feather end of his quill against the surface of his desk. He wasn’t right up front, despite being short, because he didn’t want to be right under the professor’s eye today while he was fidgety. He knew Arthur was seen here as, all at once, the scholastic twin, the perfect pureblood twin, the good twin, but that didn’t mean he wanted to be seen as a delinquent, or as someone who just didn’t care at all.Sometimes, when he thought about it, it bothered him that he knew he’d made good marks on something, yet got the feeling the people around him didn’t think he was all that smart or important. It was always a little bit of a surprise, too. All his life, tutors had compared him to Arthur and found him lacking, but at least they had known how he was doing. People here didn’t. He was, he was paranoidly sure, just Arthur’s brother or a Carey or that crazy guy from Quidditch to them. Peers, even after half a year of them, were still something Arnold was neither used to nor thought he was likely to become comfortable with.
From the corner of his eye, he saw Arthur scribbling notes. Oh, yeah. He should be doing that. He tried to pick up what the lesson was about, to force himself to concentrate. Mother and Father didn’t expect as much out of him as they did Arthur, either – no one but Grandfather ever did – but they did expect something, and he wasn’t currently delivering it.
He heard ‘second years,’ and that wasn’t good. He got down their spell, which he thought he could pull off, but still had no idea what the actual first years were supposed to do when she finished.
He looked to his neighbors for guidance. “Do you think I can get show-off cred it for just doing the second year assignment, or can you tell me what the first year one is?” he asked.
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Arnold Carey, Aladren
Cannot. Seem. To. Concentrate....
181
Arnold Carey, Aladren
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5
Sara
May 14, 2011 3:40 PM
No, my vision is perfect. Yours is the problem. by Sara
Sara ‘s left eyebrow raised slightly as she processed what Miss Errant was saying. “Oh?” she said. “What was his name?” She was tempted to show off in Spanish, but the last thing she needed was for everyone to hear her jabbering away in a language they couldn’t understand and think they were plotting something. “I’ll write to Aunt Margaret and ask.” She wasn’t particularly close to Antonio. They got along, she thought he was fond of her, but when she needed something, it was to his wife that she turned. “Her husband is Antonio Mendoza,” she offered, in case Miss Errant wanted to communicate with her own contacts.That was one side of the family Sara felt absolutely safe being associated with. True, former Minister Seda had gotten into it with Aunt Margaret a few years ago, because he’d disapproved of her thought that blood ties to powerful families in other countries could be to Spain’s (and her own) advantage, but since he was the one who’d been publicly disgraced, she wasn’t overly concerned about that coming out.
She listened to the spiel of locations without much reaction, nodding slightly at one point to show she was still listening. “I’ve never been to Mexico,” she said. “Which is strange, since it shares a border, but I am from Illinois.” She said this without shame. Her state was one of the major centers, culturally distinct enough from New England to not be lumped into it too often, and while smaller than New England or California, they were, she thought, culturally advanced enough to be held above Cali, at least. The South, she wasn’t even taking into consideration. It was too complicated to decide if the Careys should be considered southerners or a separate country. “I’ve been to Montreal, too, though not much. Most of Mother’s family is further north.”
That was one of the reasons Sara considered life inexplicable. The chances that her mother should have met her father weren’t as remote as some people’s stories, but it had been at least unlikely and had happened anyway, and as a result, Sara thought she might have the happiest immediate family in the larger family. There was a price for that, they weren’t as affluent and powerful as Uncle Charles and Aunt Margaret, but considering some of the things she’d seen, she thought she could live with expanding her immediate family’s influence a little more slowly than they had.
“We visited Scandinavia after my first year,” she said. “We spent the most time in Sweden, but I enjoyed Norway as well. It was really fascinating, some of the history of magic they have there. Italy was nearly the first place I went, and then Germany, Austria…I went to Spain for the first time when I was seven, then to England that fall for my cousin’s wedding. France with Mother and Father one time before that, though we didn’t stay long.” She glanced toward Mr. Stratford for a moment, then added, “And I’m hoping to go to Greece someday.” Her eyes made a brief stop at her work, then went back to Miss Errant. “And you?” she asked politely. “Where do you plan to go?”
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Sara
No, my vision is perfect. Yours is the problem.
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Sara
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Topher
May 14, 2011 4:16 PM
I manage that every now and then by Topher
“Yeah,” Topher said when Fae explained that she could see wanting a book, just not seeing why a shoe was what one would pick to turn into it. “That was more what I meant – if nothing else was on hand, and they knew this spell. Most of the people I know are kinda boring, really.”Now that he’d said that, though, he kind of wanted to take it back, because if he only knew boring people, what did that say about him? Or, for that matter, present company. “Not that we’re boring,” he quickly amended. “Me and you are interesting.”
He frowned at the shoe again. “I know you can kind of, you know, make up spells,” he said. “If you know what you’re doing, and can put it together right. Dad does, sometimes, around the house – not big things, but if he can’t think of something to do some little something he wants to do, he’ll just slap something together and make it work. Mom swears he’s gonna blow up the house.” He shrugged. “So maybe…I don’t know…a lot of books are bound with leather and cloth stuff, right? So Crosby thinks one of those things is like the other, so she makes it up.”
Topher shook his head, a little disgusted with himself. “Sorry, I’m having an Aladren moment,” he said.
He followed her to the shoes, and contemplated the dizzying array with an equal sense of not really knowing where he was going. He thought about taking something completely ridiculous just to see what reaction, not to mention book, he got, but decided it was probably best not to play too much of the fool in front of a Housemate and instead went with a loafer.
It took a second, after all the abstract discussion of the task, for Topher to get back to basics enough to remember the wand movement, too. “Right, left, down,” he said. “I think. I know it’s one way, other way, down. It might be left, right, down. You want to try one, and I’ll try the other and see what happens?”
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Topher
I manage that every now and then
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Topher
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5
Hope Brockert, Teppenpaw
May 17, 2011 8:25 AM
There might be a potion for that... by Hope Brockert, Teppenpaw
Last weekend, Hope, along with her older sister Nina, had gotten special permission to leave the school for her cousin Marshall's wedding. She had been very excited and though the ceremony had been small-the bride couldn't take too big an event with her health issues-it had been beautiful. Hope was so glad Harmony was officially part of her family now. She'd always felt more like Marshall was her brother than her cousin, because he'd basically lived with them most of her life and now it was like Harmony was her sister too. Hope definitely loved her as much as she loved her biological sisters.Now, the Teppenpaw was back at school and in a very good mood though granted, she usually was. She was just so happy now. Her cousin was happier than Hope had ever seen him and that made her feel happy too. She liked when others were and wished other people in her family could be too. As well as everyone else she knew.
Particularly Adam and Nina. Her older brother still seemed as miserable about breaking up with Talitha as he had at midterm and Nina was always unhappy about feeling left out among her roommates. Hope didn't know how to help either of them and she didn't like not knowing how to help people.
There was just so much out there she couldn't stop or fix and the first year truly hated that. However, she wasn't really worried about that right now. Right now, Hope was sitting in Transfiguration and in a bit of shock. What had happened to Professor Crosby? She wasn't dressed in what Chelsea had thought were horrible crimes against fashion but what Hope thought were kind of unique clothing that showed who her HoH really was. Had someone made her tone down? Was this her cousin's doing? That did not seem right to the first year and she hoped that she would someday be with a man who loved for who she was and let her be herself, the way Marshall did Harmony.
However, Hope was glad to have the lesson be easier. She had had a little luck with the snail but had felt rather unqualified to work on living creatures at this point. Hope did not want to create a Transfiguration Gone Wrong, like the legendary pickle tiger at Salem that had been once created by Harmony's great-aunt Bliss.
She was just getting down to work when the person next to her spoke. Hope turned to face Arnold Carey. "The first year lesson is turning matches into needles." Hope replied,giving him a pleasant smile. "But I suppose if you finish that, you could try the second year assignment."
11
Hope Brockert, Teppenpaw
There might be a potion for that...
186
Hope Brockert, Teppenpaw
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5
Fae
May 17, 2011 9:16 PM
I'm not so sure that I do. by Fae
Fae was sure that Topher’s definitely of boring was completely different than hers. Fae had only ever really been around her immediate family. Except for the family parties, in which case, Fae only spent time with the extended family. Her family was boring. Well, boring for an eleven year old girl. Shelby had Brier to hang with and Jaiden had always been so much older that he didn’t have to stick around. No one was close to Fae in age. After her was Sasha, and he wasn’t someone Fae wanted to be around, plus he was like half her age. So, at any family event, Fae sat alone and listened with her eyes glazing over because she didn’t understand a word of what they were saying.If any one of them had suddenly decided to transfigure their shoe into a book just for the heck of it, she would think entirely differently of them.
Fae laughed quietly at his comment. Yeah, they definitely had different views on what was boring and what was interesting. There was nothing interesting about her. Absolutely nothing. She was mediocre at everything and was terrible in pretty much all social situations. The party during midterm had proven that. “I think you’re confused, Topher.” Fae commented, her laugh still showing in her eyes. “There’s nothing interesting about me.” She said this lightheartedly, but still meant it. If she was interesting to him, he lived a sad life.
She rested her head lightly on the palm of her hand while Topher went into a theory about how Crosby might consider some similarities between a shoe and a book based on the leather covers of both. Fae didn’t think she ever heard either of her parents make up anything during their normal routines, but they often didn’t need to do much for themselves when they had the help around. Sometimes Jaiden showed off to her and Shelby with spells, but she was certain they were actual spells and not something he had made up.
Fae laughed again, “I live with Alice, remember?” Fae commented. “She’s as Aladren as they come with all that she knows. Anyway, your theory sounds pretty good to me because I did not see any commonalities between the two objects.” Although, now that she actually had a theory that made some sense, there was a possibility of the spell working a little bit better than before.
Of course, now that she had an understanding of how to make a shoe into a book, she did not have any idea on how to fill the pages with anything worth reading. She just didn’t think she had enough knowledge or memory to create a book. But, if she could create a book with no words at all, she supposed that was the step in the right direction.
“Okay, I’ll try the first option and you try the second… although, if I have the right one I’m not sure we’ll be able to tell because I am not the best at this.” Fae warned him before picking up her wand. She took a deep breath, raised her wand and did the movement as she said, “Usorlibrum.” She held her breath for a moment and then pouted. “Nothing.”
0
Fae
I'm not so sure that I do.
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Fae
0
5
Arnold
May 19, 2011 2:11 PM
There usually is by Arnold
It took Arnold a moment to place his helpful neighbor, and was for a moment convinced that she was a twin, too, but an identical one. Then he remembered that she was in his year, and that Arthur had once remarked that there was only one other set of twins in the school, girls in fourth year who didn’t look alike, either. He had no idea where his first thought had come from, unless it was Anthony’s mild despair at finding out, courtesy of Fae, that he and Henry were going to have identical girls in their year. It was still strange to realize Anthony wasn’t at school with them, and that they would be fifth years when he finally did arrive. Ancient, practically.Well, maybe not ancient. Edmond was in fifth year and was frankly – maybe just because they were on the same Quidditch team, where he was almost always extremely polite to everyone and they were thrown together a good deal because Arnold was the Seeker and the Beaters’ main duty was to protect and work with the Seeker – not that impressive. He had more lessons than they did, but that was because he was, for all practical if not technical purposes, an heir and would have to be responsible for much more than Arnold and Arthur much sooner than Arnold and Arthur were. Fifth year might be unremarkable, except as a way of reminding him in a way that everyone being together at home didn’t of how much younger Anthony, and, by extension, the cousins he had always thought of as ‘the other kids’ and more or less his equals, was.
“I suppose so, Miss Brockert,” Arnold said, returning her polite smile. He lacked the ability to remember huge numbers of family connections that some people had, but while he’d been momentarily confused about which one she was, he did know that his neighbor was a Brockert – a very large family from the north, or maybe northwest – and that she was a first year and in Teppenpaw. He thought her first name was Hope, the same as the Virginia heir’s wife. “Thank you. I’m having some trouble paying attention today.”
Standard trick, trying to be charming when admitting to doing something stupid. It didn’t work too well on Mother, but he’d seen it be more successful with others. Hopefully – huh, that was a pun – it would work out now, instead of him just looking like an idiot. “I hope you’re well today,” he added, just in case it didn’t, so propriety would serve to keep things civil.
0
Arnold
There usually is
181
Arnold
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5
Arista Thornton
May 21, 2011 1:58 PM
Ever hear of a shoebox? How about a shoebook? by Arista Thornton
The redhead walked into Transfiguration next to her very nervous sister. Addison was shaking she was so scared, and Arista stopped dead in her tracks. “If you don’t stop this Addison, I’m going to leave you here and you can walk in alone!” Arista was starting to get very angry at her little sister. She’d been there over half a year now and still she walked around shaking with fright. “Maybe-” she started, and stopped where she was. The Teppenpaw didn’t want to hurt her sister’s feelings, so she changed her phrasing. “Maybe if you can calm down we can go for lunch afterwards…” the Second Year started. “Besides… It’s only Lilac’s class! You like and trust her! Come on Addi! Snap out of it!” Ris finished, practically begging. Her little sister’s dramatic edge was starting to get on her nerves!Addison nodded to Arista and tried to calm down. “It’s not the class I’m nervous about…” she started, heaving a huge sigh.
Arista looked away from her younger sister to try to calm down enough to talk to her again. Talking to Addi in an angry tone wouldn’t help and she knew it. When Addison had told her that it wasn’t Lilac’s class that she was nervous about, she turned back. “Well? What is it then?” she asked, waiting impatiently for her eleven year old sister’s answer.
“The triplets…” Addi sighed, tears brimming her eyes.
“Oh no… Not right now…. Addi, NO!” Arista said strongly to her sister. “Lilac knows what’s going on, and she’s going to help, you can’t do this or you’ll not learn our lesson!”
“But-” Addi added.
“No buts!” Arista said strongly as she pushed her sister into the room ahead of her and sat her plump body in her chair before walking to her own chair. As she walked up to her seat, Arista noticed that all of the desks were in straight rows and the door had been open when they walked in as if it was a welcoming committee smiling at them.
Arista glanced up to Lilac and moved her eyes to glance at Addison to show Lilac that her little sister was freaking out once more, noticing a different appearance for the brunette. She was wearing a skirt, white blouse, a pull over sweater and a pair of black dress shoes. Ris was surprised that her Head of House wasn’t wearing any orange, her color of choice, and wondered why but didn’t bother to ask. It wasn’t the most important thing, and the twelve year old knew it. Lilac got up from behind her desk and ran her hand through her hair which was normally curly, though today it was straight. Arista thought that it looked pretty and wanted to remember to go tell her that at the end of class. She began speaking and the second year listened very intently on her Head of Houses’ words. ‘She’s apologizing for pushing us to do our best?’ the twelve year old thought, confusion shown on her face. Arista loved Lilac’s classes, and wouldn’t want them any other way! Though it seemed that other people hadn’t liked them, and the twelve year old fumed at the unknown people who seemingly didn’t like one of her favorite teacher’s classes.
Their Russian teacher went on to tell them what they would be doing, and Arista listened well, like usual through her explanation of what the first years would be doing before she went on to what they, the second years would be doing. She told them that what they were going to be doing was turning a shoe into a book, and Arista looked at her, giggle forming in her mouth, sparkles in her eyes. Lilac took off her shoe and told them that they needed to flick their wands left and then right, before straight down and told them to say, ’Usorlibrum.’ Arista’s eyes widened. Where her Professor’s shoe had been was now a book! She told them that the book they make would depend on what they were thinking of, and she, in shock, took off one of her own shoes, a black ballet flat and pulled out her wand.
The second year flicked her wand first to the left, then right, then straight down, thinking of what both she and her younger sister were thinking about…
The triplets.
And sure enough the book that was on her desk in front of her was a book about multiples born with issues, and she opened up the book, shock in her eyes and flicked through the pages before raising her hand to try to get Lilac’s attention.
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Arista Thornton
Ever hear of a shoebox? How about a shoebook?
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Arista Thornton
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Addison Thornton
May 28, 2011 10:37 PM
Matches to needles. by Addison Thornton
The redhead walked into Transfiguration very nervous. Addison was shaking she was so scared, and Arista stopped dead in her tracks. “If you don’t stop this Addison, I’m going to leave you here and you can walk in alone!” Addison knew that Arista was starting to get very angry at her, and she tried to calm down, really she did. She’d been there over half a year now and still she walked around shaking with fright. The eleven year old couldn‘t help it!
“Maybe-” Arista started, and stopped where she was. Addison knew that Arista didn’t want to hurt her sister’s feelings, that had been why she changed her phrasing. “Maybe if you can calm down we can go for lunch afterwards… Besides… It’s only Lilac’s class! You like and trust her! Come on Addi! Snap out of it!” Ris finished, practically begging.
Addison nodded to Arista and tried to calm down. “It’s not the class I’m nervous about…” she started, heaving a huge sigh.
Arista looked away from her younger sister to try to calm down enough to talk to her again. Talking to Addi in an angry tone wouldn’t help and she knew it. When Addison had told her that it wasn’t Lilac’s class that she was nervous about, she turned back. “Well? What is it then?” she asked, waiting impatiently for her eleven year old sister’s answer.
“The triplets…” Addi sighed, tears brimming her eyes.
“Oh no… Not right now…. Addi, NO!” Arista said strongly to her sister. “Lilac knows what’s going on, and she’s going to help, you can’t do this or you’ll not learn our lesson!”
“But-” Addi added.
“No buts!” Arista said strongly as she pushed her sister into the room ahead of her and sat her plump body in her chair before walking to her own chair. As Arista walked away from her, Addi watched her receding back with trepidation. Swallowing some saliva, she turned to look at Lilac who was in the front of the room. Addison didn’t pay any attention to her teacher’s clothing, or look, but what she did see was that it looked like Lilac could be looking at her?
Lilac got up from her desk and walked to the door, running a hand through her hair. The woman shut the door and welcomed them to class, apologizing for her difficult classes. Addi turned to watch Arista’s face, and knew that her older sister didn’t think that Lilac’s classes were hard, and she didn’t either, although she wasn’t altogether sure why she didn’t. She never was too good at lessons of any sort and she knew it, but then, she wasn’t sure if that was because she felt out of place wherever she was or for some other reason. Their Russian Professor went on to explain that they were going to transfigure an inanimate object to another inanimate object. Lilac told the years what spell they would be using and went into what the first years like Addison were to be working on. The eleven year olds were supposed to turn matches into needles with the words “Ignis Acu.” Thankfully, for Addi there was no want motion other than pointing, which was good! Lilac changed her match into a nice pointed needle and Addi’s mouth opened wide, but she pulled out her wand just the same and pointed it at the match.
“Ignis Acu!” she said softly, but all the match did was to roll around on her desk in front of her. With a sigh, Addison forced herself to smile and try it again. Taking in a deep breath, she spoke once more, this time a little bit more forceful. “Ignis Acu!”
Her match turned a shade of silver this time! “YES!” she said excitedly, trying it again, to see if she’d be able to make the curved side of the match into the point of the needle. “Ignis Acu!” she said and sure enough in front of her there was a perfect needle! Smiling from ear to ear, she tried to get her sister’s attention to show her that she’d done it, and done it right, but she saw the worried look on Arista’s face and her hand up in the air for Lilac to see.
“Uh oh…” Addison thought, and watched her sister intently until she felt a tap on her shoulder…
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Addison Thornton
Matches to needles.
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Addison Thornton
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5