Counting Chickens on Transfiguration

Professor Skies

May 23, 2014 11:34 PM

Beginner Transfiguration - lighting the way by Professor Skies

“Good morning, and welcome back to Beginners Transfiguration. For those of you who don't me, I am Deputy Headmistress Skies, though you may simply address me as Professor,” familiar as this little speech was to her, it felt decidedly strange to be giving it after Midterm. She surveyed the unfamiliar faces whose names and characters she normally had a handle on by now. She knew which ones were her Crotali but that was the extent of her knowledge of the first year group.

“We're going to be looking at Transfiguration Tables,” she explained. She had gone over what had been taught in her absence and was generally very impressed with the level to which the students had managed to cover the classes. However, she wasn't sure to what extent this method had been used to help with their visualisation.

“Transfiguration Tables are a method of establishing what is similar between your source object, that is, the one you start with, and your target object, which is what you're aiming for. Focussing only on those elements that need changing helps conserve energy and make your transformation quicker and more efficient. Over time, you will internalise this process, but when you're starting out it helps to make notes.

“A Transfiguration Table is a simple table like this,” she stated, sending a stack of sheets off around the room with a wave of her wand to hand themselves out to the first years. The first column listed features such as size, colour and function, whereas the second was blank for their own notes. “Second years, you should now be able to draw these up for yourselves, or make notes in whatever way feels most useful to you. You do not have to give precise measurements for objects – their characteristics relative to each other are really all that matters. Is something comparatively bigger or smaller, or are the two objects you're working with about the same?” Teaching was a constant learning process, and Brandon Carey had taught her last year that this was a point worth making those elaborations on, following his agonies over trying to calculate the volume of an, at that point, non-existent sphere.

“Today, we will be transforming pencils or crayons into candles. Crayons present less of a challenge, and one of the boxes on your Transfiguration Table should give you a hint as to why. You may attempt either project, or both. However, I would recommend that any second years working with crayons do try to stretch themselves a little, either by changing the colour of their crayon, or by adding a pattern to it.” She was aware their teaching may have been a little hotch-potch over the last term, so she didn't wish to be too hard on them. However, they still needed to be making progress, whatever level they were working at. As she spoke, a box of the aforementioned objects made its way around the room, pausing for each student to make their selection (though rattling itself impatiently if it felt they were taking too long about it).

“The spell for today is candere,” she stated, whilst the chalk wrote it on the board behind her. The spelling would probably come as a surprise to some people as, contrary to common practice in English, the final vowel was pronounced. “And the wand movement is a sharp, straight flick along the length of your object, like so,” she added demonstrating the movement, “You may place the object and perform the flick horizontally or vertically, so long as it is running along your object. Put it all together, and you get this... candere,” she cast, flicking her wand vertically along the length of a navy blue pencil. She held up a white candle, with a delicate trail of white leaves moulded onto the side.

“If you need any help, please ask me or one of your peers. You may begin,” she stated. She planned to move around the room during the lesson to get an idea of how everyone was progressing.

welcome to Transfiguration. Posts will be marked on length, creativity, realism and relevance, and must be a minimum of 200 words. Please remember that your character is a beginner – they will not be perfect straight away, and the points you earn for this class will be based on the quality of your writing, rather than how well you claim your character did.

If you need Professor Skies, please tag her in the subject line (write 'Tag Professor Skies) and do not allow a situation to get out of control before giving me a chance to intervene (she is a competent professional and would not, for example, allow a flock of bird you accidentally created to peck you to pieces before she noticed and lifted a finger to help (also creating a flock of birds is probably a bit advanced and weird when aiming for a candle)

If you have any questions as an author about how classes work, please ask them on the OOC board.

Subthreads:

Candle in the wind by Clark Dill with Daphne Macaulay

Counting Chickens by Atlas Primred, Pecari with Liliana Bannister, Pecari

Dare I Light It? by Katherine Procter, Crotalus with Lionel Layne, Pecari

13 Professor Skies Beginner Transfiguration - lighting the way 26 Professor Skies 1 5

Clark Dill

May 25, 2014 2:12 PM

Candle in the wind by Clark Dill

Clark sat in the front row. He did not sit in the center of it, because dad said that made you look too eager, but rather off to the side. This was a change from last term, when he tried to disappear entirely toward the back of the room, though he had been creeping closer to the front as the months passed with student teachers. (He'd had student teachers before in elementary school but Sonora gave the term a whole new meaning.)

A greater change in the classroom today, though, was that today it was a normal adult professor standing at the front of the room, and the sky outside was no longer blocked by swirling purple clouds.

Aliens were no longer a threat, if they ever had been. Clark wasn't sure on that point. The explanation given for what happened could just be a cover story, as 'malfunctioning weather charms' had been years ago when the aliens attacked Sonora the first time, but Clark was almost ready to believe it might have been true this time, if only because the clouds had been around long enough that if it had been aliens, he thought they would have been able to either find him, make themselves known, or - at the very least - blow something up in the months they had parked over the school. There had been significant property damage last time, after all.

Also, they had cleared out without a fight or gaining anything, so maybe it was just a simple matter of a charms facility having a research project go very very wrong and interfere with the school's defenses.

In either case, a new year had begun and now they had their real teachers back. So Clark sat up front, unafraid of invading aliens identifying him as one of their own, to soak in what could be learned about magic.

He looked over the transfiguration table she passed out and thought it might indeed be helpful in quantifying where the effort and energy had to go when casting transfigurations. That could very easily lead to better efficiency and a better result overall. He'd had decent results under the tutelage of the student teachers, as he was a bright kid (he'd heard this phrase often enough from his dad and teachers to believe it) and had put in the effort of extra reading. He had imagined Dad would ask about that - and he'd been right - so he'd made sure he was able to give an answer that wouldn't disappoint. Even being as bright as he was and with as much extra reading as he could stomach, though, his results did not quite meet his exacting standards for his own schoolwork - merely 'good' rather than 'great' - and he was hopeful the transfiguration tables might bring him closer to his target of excellence.

When the box came around with pencils and crayons, he hesitated, uncertain which to take. He was still a first year, so he could take a crayon without making anyone think he was underachieving, but he was an Aladren, and a bright kid, so maybe not overachieving was underachieving . . . the box rattled impatiently and he was startled enough by that that he just reached in and grabbed the first thing his fingers touched.

It was a green crayon.

Well, he decided, he would just have to change its color and add a design, as the second years were supposed to do if they were using crayons.

He began filling out the chart, noting that the material would remain wax in the final product, so that didn't have to change. Most of the rest was cosmetic, so it should be fairly simple. He did put in a footnote though that it was going to need a cotton string wick down the center of the transfigured product, so that would need some minor material transfiguration.

Under size, he marked the crayon's current dimensions, then gave slightly larger dimensions for the candle, as he wanted one a little more impressive than a birthday cake candle. He wasn't quite sure how big normal candlesticks were, though, so he just made a guess on the height and diameter he was aiming for.

Under color, he wrote 'blue and green striped diagonally' figuring that would both provide a design and let him leave about half of the crayon its current color, reducing difficulty slightly there.

For shape, he noted that the shapes were very similar and would not require too much tweaking. He did sketch out brief diagrams to show precisely where the tweaks would be required though, especially at the top where the wick needed to come out.

Once these things were diligently recorded, he put down his quill and picked up his wand. He flicked it horizontally across the crayon lying flat on his desk, and said, "Candere!" while visualizing a green and blue striped candlestick.

It still wasn't perfect. The wick was colorfully striped like the rest of it instead of just off-white. It also still had a crayon wrapper around it (he'd successfully made a cotton string wick inside but forgotten to get rid of the paper outside). Overall, though, it wasn't a bad piece of transfiguration. The size was good and the color of the wax was exactly what he'd wanted.

1 Clark Dill Candle in the wind 277 Clark Dill 0 5

Daphne Macaulay

May 28, 2014 9:09 AM

Candle on the water by Daphne Macaulay

Daphne had really had to fight to come back to Sonora. She could understand it, of course. Her mother had heard nothing at all from her since the arrival letter she had hastily scrawled on the first night, and then had collected her a week before the intended midterm with the knowledge that the whole school had been without adult supervision for an entire term. Really, she would have been more concerned if there hadn't been any reluctance to let her go back to school. Daphne had made her arguments well, however, and found herself back in her first real lessons after midterm, along with the classmates she felt she'd still yet to meet. With all the confusion she had unintentionally retreated back into her natural wallflower state, speaking only to her roomates, Chaslyn and Kitty.

Term starting as it should after the holiday, with staff present and everything, Daphne felt like she had been granted a new opportunity to start afresh, and she intended to take it. She boldly sat in the front row - a new experience for the Crotalus first year - and looked at the students seated near her as she gathered her belongings together neatly on the desk before her, and brushed her blonde ponytail back off her shoulder. She could still hide behind her heavy bangs, but at least the curtains usually hanging down both sides of her face could no longer obscure her view of anyone, or them of her. It wasn't that she did that out of shyness per se, just that it was nobody else's business what she was thinking or doing. She realised, however, that look didn't make her especially approachable, and she was determined that, if nothing else, her seven years at Sonora would not result in her being the recipient of that obnoxious 'most bashful' vote every single year.

Excited to be taught by a real teacher (she thought the older students had done well, but she didn't really have any standards for this judgement), Daphne paid rapt attention and looked with interest at the table. When the box approached her, she took out a dark purple crayon, intending to make it pure white like the candles in church, still fresh in her mind after the festive season. She looked at it for a few moments, thoughtfully, before filling in her worksheet. She tried, unsuccessfully, to stand her crayon on its end before she laid it on her desk and cast the spell. Her voice was quieter than she would have liked, and the object before her was pale lilac, rather than the white she had intended, but it was waxy and had a wick, so she couldn't be too disappointed.

Daphne picked up her candle to examine it more closely, then furtively looked over at her neighbour to see how he was faring. She thought he might have seen her looking, so her gaze automatically fell and she lowered her head. No, she firmly instructed herself. She took a breath and looked back up at the student seated beside her. "Wow," she said, barely audibly. Then, with more volume, "Nice decoration."

0 Daphne Macaulay Candle on the water 0 Daphne Macaulay 0 5

Atlas Primred, Pecari

June 02, 2014 3:11 AM

Counting Chickens by Atlas Primred, Pecari

Atlas had spent the morning in a daze. It almost felt like he had time warped back to his pervious year in Sonora when things weren't so odd. Except for a few things here and there, it felt like things had returned to normal. He had spent his Winter break explaining to his parents all that had happened. He knew that it was a worrisome situation at the time, and didn't want to lie to his parents about why he hadn't contacted them in months. They didn't seem pleased, and Katie refused to let him go all break. Although a year ago, he wouldn't have minded leaving Sonora to return to his usual school in Santa Cruz, now he couldn't imagine not having magic in his life. Magic was fascinating, it had endless possibilities. In many ways it made his pervious life seem bland.

Today, Atlas had arrived early to class in order to find a quiet place to start writing a letter. He thought it might make his parents feel reassured if he started a line of communication right off the bat. He had only gotten halfway through it when the other students started to come in. He quickly put it into his moleskin book. He loved his family to death, but he didn't want the rest of his class to get the wrong idea. He got out his wand and awaited for the teacher to begin the lesson. It would be nice to be back on track with the book. Transfiguration was actually one of his favorite classes. Although he could do a lot of cool things in Charms, and Potions let him work with plants, he found that he liked how artsy Transfiguration could be. He could use a lot of his imagination in this class, something that wasn't as appreciated in others.

Atlas was already pretty good with his tables, he would usually go down a list in his head of everything he needed to change. However, his hardest task today would be controlling his power output. He had noticed over the past year that although he wasn't a bad magic student, he couldn't control his powers very well. He often had to reassure himself that the reason he was there was to learn control, and that it was okay if he didn't have much at the moment.

When the box came to Atlas, he peered in and saw an array of multicolored crayons along with some pencils. He picked up one of the pencils just as the box began to rattle slightly. Although magic could be really cool, it could also be a little annoying from time to time. He wasn't sure if it was a reflection of the Deputy Head Mistresses feelings for how long he took, or if it was the box's feelings. Either way, Atlas had bigger fish to fry and turned his attention back to the front of the room after looking over his choice of pencil.

When Atlas was finally released to try the spell on his own he quickly began writing down notes. He had worked over the past year to try and make his list shorter, however he found that writing it down still helped to organize his thoughts. When he began to describe what the physical appearance of the candle would be, Atlas discovered he was having a bit of an artist's block. He didn't want to just make a boring candle, he thought that it should be exciting, that way he could spend all of class trying to perfect it. Thats when he got an idea. Mother's day would be coming up in a couple months and his mom loved all that hippy stuff. Perhaps he should try to make the candle for her.

The ideas began to flow immediately, it would have to be yellow, that was his moms favorite color after all. "Would she like a flower on it too?" Atlas asked himself trying to remember which ones she liked. He settled on a red tropical flower he had seen before. He was pretty sure it was called a Hibiscus. "She will be so surprised," he thought to himself cracking a grin imagining the candle he would make. "Oh and it should be bee's wax", he thought as he added that note to the bottom of his now long list of details.

Atlas looked at his pencil again, it was sparkly purple and as far away from a yellow bee's wax candle as he could get. Definitely a challenge. He readied his wand glancing up at the name of the spell on the board one more time to make sure he had it down. " Candere " he said moving his wand along the length of it. Then like magic, before him rested a "candle". It was longer than it was tall and complete with 5 wicks, one of which was pointing out from the side. Atlas frowned. He may have counted his chickens a little early. He poked it and saw that although it was wax, it wasn't nearly solid enough to support its own weight, in addition, despite its yellow exterior the inside was filled with a purple-like substance that he hoped was wax. "At least it isn't sparkly," he thought to himself, proud that he had at least gotten rid of that aspect of the pencil. He turned to his list and checked off what he had gotten correct before he peered over to his neighbor, whom he had completely forgot even existed until this moment.

"How is yours coming along?" he asked meekly, feeling bad for not even giving them so much as a chummy greeting. "Mines a little messed up, but I'm sure its fixable," he added, pointing to his candle that was now bleeding purple wax onto his desk.

0 Atlas Primred, Pecari Counting Chickens 276 Atlas Primred, Pecari 0 5

Liliana Bannister, Pecari

June 03, 2014 12:36 AM

What do you call the opposite of that? by Liliana Bannister, Pecari

The extended break has been nice. Liliana has packed and been ready to go the night they announced it. While she had been a little bit sad to leave Atlas-- he was her only friend at Sonora however odd their friendship was, she was also really excited to go home and travel to England early. Apparently there was some exciting news regarding Reuben. Sure enough, Reuben’s betrothal to Nora Fote was announced at Grandmère’s holiday ball and Liliana had appraised her new cousin-in-law to be with calculating eyes. In her opinion Nora was too tall and thin to be Reuben’s bride, but Isaac and Carl had remarked that Nora was very well-endowed and had nice hair.

Nevertheless, coming back to Sonora for the rest of the year had been a little more of a welcome idea than in terms before as Liliana now was extra self-conscious about hanging out with her cousins and their friends. She’d never heard her cousins talk about girls like pieces of meat before and after overhearing some of their friends chip in with less than savory remarks Liliana was inclined to stay away from boys altogether. She supposed she was going to have to talk to Atlas as he had never really asserted any sort of inappropriate talk towards her (or anyone else she knew, really). He was altogether too oblivious and rather awkward to have those sorts of ideas anyway, Liliana reasoned (a little unfairly). Besides, if he ever did make some sort of comment about a girl she was sure it wouldn't be nearly as vulgar- he was twelve, not sixteen going on betrothed like her cousins.

Her first day back at Sonora had gone well so far- at least the teachers had showed up to class, but Liliana was finding it even harder to focus in her classes. When she had first started Sonora last year she had come from a solid several years of non-stop tutoring starting when she was five and old enough to read. She had never had a break as long as a whole semester before and even though she had tried to attend as many of the lessons the older students were teaching and pay attention she had found herself falling behind and having a harder and harder time keeping up. Schooling had always been difficult for her but at least with the professors there she would have been able to ask for help when she needed it. It wasn't that the older students were intimidating, per se, but she hadn't felt comfortable in asking them to slow down or for help. Instead she had tried to go over her books with Atlas even though he probably wasn't the best person to be asking help from since he also was learning the lessons for the first time. When studying on her own didn't work, Liliana had given up and organized a search party (that consisted of her and Atlas) to go around the school and inspect corner and cracks in the floor. She had been certain* it was all a massive prank or test from the teachers. However when all had been revealed she had felt rather stupid for even suggesting the idea to Atlas but was glad he was the only one she had recruited.

She was sitting next to Atlas now, trying to transfigure their pencils into candles. She had waited for him to pick as she badly wanted a crayon, nervous about her first real attempt at magic in a while but didn't want to be the only second year to try that. When he chose a pencil she inwardly sighed and her mind raced as she tried to decide what color pencil to pick. Atlas' was purple and sparkly and as she didn't want a purple or sparkly candle she wanted to pick a good color. Even though she knew the box would begin to rattle soon, Liliana carefully looked over her options anyway. Finally she selected a long, smooth, cream colored pencil so that she could focus on the wax and not the color. Her transfiguration table wasn't nearly as neat as Atlas' was but she didn't mind that so much. She was more worried over how her candle would turn out.

"Candere," she cast as she pointed her wand at the still pencil in front of her. She had moved it away from the paper in case when made the candle it was lit (or, horrors, whatever she created instead of the candle was on fire) and she watched as the lead of the pencil became limp and white like a wick. That had been what she was concentrating on the most as she knew transfiguring the two materials into two other materials at the same time would be difficult. Fortunately for her while she got the wick to turn she had also managed the rest of the pencil so become a soft, wax like substance too. It wasn't that Liliana was poor at magic, she just lacked the ability to concentrate fully.

"How is yours coming along?" Atlas asked. "Mines a little messed up, but I'm sure its fixable."

Liliana turned to him and smiled softly not wanting to brag as she knew what it was like to be the one behind in a lesson. "Mine's alright, a little limp for a candle but I'm sure I can get it there soon. It's not as big as I would like it to be either, still a little on the thin side." Now that she saw how everyone else was choosing different colors and designs she picked up her quill and added to the bottom of her chart that she wanted to put two thin blue stripes going horizontal at either end of the candle and a Star of David in the middle of the top half of the candle. That way her candle didn't look like so much of a cop out when it came time to show Professor Skies. She smiled sheepishly at Atlas when she was done writing these additions. "I wasn't sure if I would be able to even make a solid colored candle, that's why I didn't make up a design earlier," she explained. "But now it will have one. I'm thinking maybe a cerulean blue? Or perhaps a creamier, lighter blue. What do you think?"

10 Liliana Bannister, Pecari What do you call the opposite of that? 274 Liliana Bannister, Pecari 0 5

Atlas Primred, Pecari

June 05, 2014 2:12 AM

Maybe Counting Eggs? by Atlas Primred, Pecari

When Atlas realized it was Liliana next to him, he immediately felt slightly guilty. After all she was his best friend at Sonora. They had spent some time last semester searching for “clues” to the mystery of the missing teachers. He thought that with so many cousins she would have gotten enough of the adventure stuff growing up, either way Atlas was happy to follow along. To tell the truth he had been fishy about what the older students had been telling them as well. In the end he was a little disappointed that they didn’t find anything. He kind of hoped for a little adventure, but at least he got to spend time with the adventurous Liliana who he liked a lot more compared to the “studious” Liliana.

Atlas smiled at Lillian’s efforts. He was pretty confident in his abilities and figured he would probably catch up to her by then end. Besides no one knew what he was going for with his candle, so he didn’t have to worry about letting anyone down if he changed his design due to lack of time. He was happy that she seemed to be pleased with her work, or he at least hoped she was feeling proud of herself. Liliana had studied with him several times, and he found that she got concepts a little slower than him. Although if he could be better at school than she was, it would make him feel a lot less bad about his quidditch skills.

Liliana turned to him and smiled softly, "mine's alright, a little limp for a candle but I'm sure I can get it there soon. It's not as big as I would like it to be either, still a little on the thin side." She picked up her quill and added to the bottom of her chart. She smiled sheepishly at Atlas when she was done writing these additions. "I wasn't sure if I would be able to even make a solid colored candle, that's why I didn't make up a design earlier," she explained. "But now it will have one. I'm thinking maybe a cerulean blue? Or perhaps a creamier, lighter blue. What do you think?"

Atlas watched tentatively as she made her additions. He liked the way she wrote using her left hand, it was interesting to watch and the 12 year old often found himself snatching glances. Although, he only saw it as looking for references for his drawings. Atlas returned her smile, resting his head against his arm as she continued. “Oh I knew you could do it. Don’t be so hard on yourself,” he said trying to cheer her up. “I think a light blue would be great! It would look just like the sky!” he said, his mind already drifting to himself flying through a clear blue sky. He wanted to drift deep into a daydream, but unfortunately he could practically hear his candle calling for help.

Facing his own candle he focused on the elements that needed to be changed. He wanted to see how much he could change in one go this time. He hoped that saying the spell more calmly would help him keep himself form putting too much magic into it. “Candere” he said calmly keeping himself focused on the yellow wax structure and the wicks. The 4 extra wicks snuck back into the wax form and the candle lengthened itself slightly. It was now a full yellow candle, however the spot Atlas had poked earlier left a small dent in the smooth surface of the candle. He touched the candle to make sure it was a solid form, and thankfully it was. Atlas picked it up and brought it to his nose to see if it smelled like bees’ wax. It had a slight scent to it but he wasn’t sure it was the smell he hoped for.

“Hey Liliana,” he said poking her shoulder lightly, “can you smell my candle and tell me what you think it smells like? It was supposed to be bees’ wax, but I’m not sure if it’s the right scent.”

OOC:
Permission from Liliana’s author to address her in the post.

And Liliana its your choice what the scent of the candle is.

0 Atlas Primred, Pecari Maybe Counting Eggs? 276 Atlas Primred, Pecari 0 5

Katherine Procter, Crotalus

June 06, 2014 5:56 PM

Dare I Light It? by Katherine Procter, Crotalus

It felt almost like having the first day of school all over again, and Kitty was not sure how she felt about the scores of butterflies flying circles around her stomach. She had already done this whole little-fish-big-pond thing already, and she did not care to start again from square one.

Even so, she plaited her hair and pinned it up in its usual way, and took her usual seat in the second row closest to the door. Before long, Professor Skies, who Kitty liked immensely, began the lesson. So, they were going to be transfiguring candles from pencils or crayons, then? Kitty decided she would use a crayon to start with, and focus on maybe changing the color. She filled in her table while the box of their subjects levitated around the room. She would have to make the crayons longer and thicker, and make sure to flatten the point. Oh! She couldn't forget the wick! She wrote that down, as well. Perhaps she would make it blue?

The box had reached her as she was focused on her table, and it rattled impatiently, startling her. Embarrassed by the loud ruckus the box was creating a mere few inches from her nose, Kitty quickly reached in and grabbed a crayon blindly.

It was a moment before she realized that the crayon in her hand was actually a pencil.

Oh, bugger.

Great, now everyone was going to think she was an overachiever, or showing off for Professor Skies. Not to mention that if she was to get up and switch her hot pink number two pencil for a more-beginner-friendly crayon, she would look indecisive or as though she was giving up. Kitty resisted the urge to hit the desk with her forehead. Instead, she sighed, resigning herself to her wood and graphite fate.

Using the offending writing implement, she changed her table accordingly and mentally cursing her lack of focus in a flustering situation. Well, it was too late for that now, so Kitty laid the obnoxiously pink pencil on her desk and picked up her wand. She pictured what sort of candle she wanted in her head. A long, pale blue taper with a snowy white wick.

Kitty waved her wand along her pencil and said, "Candere!" in a strong, yet quiet voice.

Then, before her, laid a long taper candle. Sure, it was still a really bright shade of electric pink, but it was a taper candle! Kitty snatched it up and studied it. Upon closer inspection, she could see the flaws. It still smelled like a pencil, and the wick was wood rather than cotton. Kitty did not despair overmuch at that detail. Wood would still burn. Her mother even owned candles at home with wooden wicks. What bothered her more was the pencil-smell.

"Well, it is certainly a start," Kitty said aloud, mostly to the pencil-candle. "Nothing exploded, and it is still a candle. I can work with this!"

Pushing some stray hairs from her face, she started to plan how to finish her assignment.

0 Katherine Procter, Crotalus Dare I Light It? 0 Katherine Procter, Crotalus 0 5

Lionel Layne, Pecari

June 25, 2014 7:49 PM

Sure, why not? by Lionel Layne, Pecari

When he’d been waiting in the foyer for his grandparents to come get him, a task which had actually fallen to Uncle Geoff, Lionel had not been able to stop thinking that Grandmother and Granddad were going to be angry that, since he was pretty sure even such grades as the older students had tried to assign weren’t going to count for anything, he didn’t have any good grades to bring home. To his relief, though, they hadn’t really seemed to care at all. They had been proud of Alicia, of course, for the commendations she’d received for helping keep the school together during the crisis – Granddad had actually used that word when they went to Aunt Emily’s for Christmas and everyone started discussing the year; Uncle Geoff and Aunt Emily had both nearly choked on their drinks – but mostly they’d just been happy that she and Isaac and Lionel were still alive. The holidays, as a result, had almost felt like the time around the second week that the teachers had been gone, when he’d no longer been so unnerved by what was going on but hadn’t yet gotten bored or heard Isaac speculating, more cheerfully than he’d ever heard Isaac say anything before, that Alicia thought they were all going to starve to death. Grandmother had let Lionel do almost anything he liked, so long as it was within her sight and where she could ask him if he was all right whenever she felt the need to.

His mom had even been around enough that she’d known something was up and had not been too happy to hear that Grandmother and Granddad had decided to send him back to school, which Lionel appreciated even though he was glad Grandmother and Granddad, on Uncle Geoff’s advice, hadn’t listened to her and wished he hadn’t been the reason his mother and his uncle had a pretty nasty argument on New Year’s. According to Alicia, who’d heard it from her older sisters, Aunt Helena had left the family after she and Uncle Geoff had this huge fight just before his oldest cousin Rachel started school, and so he sort of worried about Mom just taking off and not coming back – well, more than usual – whenever she got into it with her brother, though she and Uncle Geoff usually seemed to end up buying each other drinks after they argued, leading him to wonder if maybe Aunt Helena was a teetotaler or something and that was why she had never worked out her differences with her family.

Or maybe, since it was only Uncle Geoff she wouldn’t speak to at all, not. She had sent the rest of them a card this year, and while it hadn’t seemed especially warm- Happy New Year. Helena Whittington. - she had included a picture of her husband with her son, his little cousin Marcus, which Grandmother had, with great ceremony, put into a frame to put on one of the end tables instead of putting directly into an album before sitting down to write Aunt Helena a long letter in response. As far as Lionel knew, no one had told her about what had been going on at the school.

He didn’t really know what to expect, but Lionel was curious to see what would happen as he sat down in his first Transfiguration lesson with a real teacher. He had liked the class in the first half of the year, when he’d come, but it all felt like starting over now, an impression helped by the teacher having to introduce herself to them.

Crayons into candles sounded pretty easy, too, since they were both made of wax. Or at least, he was pretty sure they were both made of wax. There were even candles – he’d seen them on cakes in supermarkets – which looked like crayons, though he guessed Professor Skies might want them to make the candles a little bigger than those intended for a birthday cake. If they were making birthday cake candles, then really, he thought all they were doing was stringing a thread through the middle of the crayon, which didn’t seem like a true transformation.

He got a green crayon when the box went past him and began to study it, turning it in his hand so he could see it from all sides, before starting to fill in the chart. Once that was done, he tried to picture it as a bigger candle, without the paper wrapper meant to keep color from getting on his hands, and then pictured the candle lengthening into the candle.

When he tried the spell, the crayon did stretch, but without getting any wider, and the top of it twisted, the end feeling cottony but the rest looking like twisted wax. The wrapper seemed to be part of the outside now, too, which wasn’t really what he had been going for and he was pretty sure Professor Skies wouldn’t be amused if he tried to say that was the pattern he’d been going for.

He noted his results while his neighbor, who he recognized as someone in his year and who seemed to have had good luck with her project, started talking. He nodded, even though not sure the comments were directed to him. “Sounds like it,” he said cheerfully. “The not exploding part is really good for that.” Not exploding was good in general, he thought, even if they did have a real teacher with them who could handle it with them.

16 Lionel Layne, Pecari Sure, why not? 283 Lionel Layne, Pecari 0 5

Liliana Bannister

July 01, 2014 12:12 PM

As long as we don't count them before they hatch! by Liliana Bannister

Liliana noticed Atlas sneaking glances at her writing hand and rolled her eyes. He was so weird with the way he was always watching things. But she couldn't say anything about it as she knew many people would find her just as weird for hanging out with him all the time. "Thanks," she said. "But you know that this concentrating stuff is difficult for me! I'm satisfied with what I have-- so far I think I've been pretty productive this lesson." She tilted her head a little and considered the candle. "Light blue like the sky would be pretty. I think I'll wait just a little bit longer to decide though. I don't want to get ahead of myself!"

She watched as Atlas turned back to his candle and tried again. It visibly hardened and, though it still had a small dent in it from where he poked it earlier, it was still, on the whole, a much better candle. "I love that shade of yellow!" she exclaimed. "Though I am disappointed you only have one wick now. I thought you were making a special candle." She smiled at him teasingly so he would know she wasn't making fun.

"Hey, Liliana," he said. "Can you smell my candle and tell me what it smells like? It was supposed to be bee's wax but I'm not sure if it's the right scent."

"You're making a scent?" She replied as she bent towards the candle to take a good whiff. "I didn't think we had to do that... I didn't even consider that it should have a smell. I don't know why though, after all, that's just kind of what candles do, right? They smell. Not in a bad way, of course." She blushed slightly when she realised she'd been rambling. "Oh, and it's honey. The scent of your candle, I mean. So you got close."

Liliana picked up her wand again, figuring she needed to pay more attention to her assignment than watching Atlas do his lest Professor Skies come over and say something to her. She cast the spell at her candle. This time she thought of the consistency and size of the candles her mom always lit for passover. "There, that's much better, don't you think?"

She looked back at Atlas' candle and considered her options. She didn't know if she wanted to make her candle scented. After all, she still had the color and design to put on it and the candles her mother burned for passover were never scented. Somehow it seemed inappropriate to make a scented passover candle. Besides, if she added scent to it know she didn't think she'd be able to finish in time. "Candere<\\i>," she cast, mentally drawing the blue lines onto the candle followed by a symmetrical Star of David. She didn't get why they were doing this part, really? Couldn't they just buy a candle in the store? Liliana didn't think a design would matter in any given situation in which a candle was so desperately needed one had to be transfigured from a pencil.

10 Liliana Bannister As long as we don't count them before they hatch! 274 Liliana Bannister 0 5