Lesson 1: Core Concepts of Arithmancy

[Eshrael Oreldrin]

Busying himself with adjusting and warming the few specific leaves and small branches, he did not perceive the newest student to arrive and take a seat. So unaware was he, that it still took a few seconds for his brain to register that someone was talking to him and never did he register the thunking of the boys bag. Without further hesitation, as he knew he was already looking quite lost, Eshrael raised his head, his eyebrows rising with it before relaxing back down a moment later, and began searching for the boy who pulled his attention. Luckily, the boy was right in front of him and saved him from becoming the visage of some lost boy in need of a guiding hand. “Ah… Hello… May the sun shine on you this day,” he said while trying to mask the surprise from his friendly voice and brandishing a smile. Noting that the young man did not seem to want a conversation he went back to giving his attention to the task he set for himself.

Having finally tended to the shroud of plants upon his desk, Eshrael decided to take a closer look at the rest of the plant life throughout his classroom. Picking up his staff as he stood, he walked to the nearest fauna, which happened to be near D’rorah as he overheard one of the boys saying, all the while making a solid but quiet thumping noise with every other step. The more focused the flowering tree grew as he drew closer, the more he noticed something strange was affecting the plant. The leaves and flowers were wilting but not in a natural way… something seemed to drain them of life instead of merely draining the moisture from them. Quickly, Eshrael searched his memory for a reason but as hard and thorough as he searched it was still a few long minutes before the smallest myth bubbled to the surface. It was a myth evolving around a girl named Sian and wherever she walked darkness or death had soon followed.

Unaware of his stance that so obviously revealed he was in deep thought, he was also unaware of the next student to enter the classroom. Mulling through his memories, Eshrael finally found a spell that would suffice but before he could begin, another student spoke up and snatched his attention away. Turning around, his dreadlocks sweeping through the air and over his right shoulder before resting in calm, he was thankful to find this student standing so that he did not have to search like someone looking for their glasses that were in their hand. With a welcoming smile he addressed the boy, “May the sun shine on you this day. Please, have a seat. Class will begin momentarily.” With his empty left hand he moved it through the air to direct the Slytherin’s attention to a few of the empty seats strewn about the classroom.

Turning once again, his leather soled shoes shuffling on the stone floor and his dreadlocks rolling over each other and falling back into their normal place, he faced the small tree once again before him. Pulling the spell from the abyssal depths of his memory once again, Eshrael cleared his mind and began… With a quiet and deep hum like the fading chime of a large bell, his voice filled the air; the vibrations traveling through his body and into the staff before stretching out across the floor without losing any volume. Setting his left hand onto the staff so that both hands where gripping the magical artifact underneath the quartz, he began to trace an invisible glyph upon the floor with the base of the oaken shaft. The closer he came to finishing the glyph, the more the crystal seemed to reflect light and a few runes along the staff seemed to glow. Having finished, his hum shifted to a slightly higher note and he let go of the staff but it remained floating in the upright position. Crafting the magic around him by creating symbols and signs with his hands, he cut the hum off with a firm but musically rhythmic “Dilgenter Defaeco Obscurum,” and immediately afterwards a thick, bright white fog began to roll out from the quartz within the staff and he began humming in an even deeper tone than the first though still resounding throughout the classroom unnaturally.

The fog began moving, crawling along the ground like a sentient fog elemental extending desperate hands to pull itself across the floor. The tendrils crept along the floor until every corner and niche of the stone floor could not be seen. The top of the mist rolled like waves upon the ocean with occasional wisps reaching up into the air as it slowly and gently sanctified the room from the otherworldly taint. Eshrael watched as the dense fog crept up like a vine upon the plant in front of him, covering every leaf and branch as it did the rest in the room. Seeing that the flowers once again held their full beauty, he let his hum dissipate slowly. Following the sound of the hum, the white fog began to lift up toward the ceiling, some of it clinging to a few of the students as it rose, evanescing more rapidly as it drew away from the students until it disappeared completely.

It was a complex spell known only to members of the Coven and was passed on through the generations of druids. The spell was designed to suppress a lingering darkness from an area of land where there had been a curse or an unpleasant death by means of 'reawakening' the light within the land and bringing balance. Unknown to the creators, the spell suppresses the effects of the Shadow Realm by drawing upon the light or inner purity of the caster. Because of this necessity, if the caster is affected by the Shadow in any way it is near impossible to cast; the only exception is if their heart is pure.

The effects suppressed range from a lingering darkness from near death experiences or the inner darkness of Shadow Warriors, the residual effects of being in the Shadow Realm, or the residual effects of curse spells. The spell effect is dependent upon the area and only affects those with the conditions above. Anyone with the conditions that entered into the area, or having been affected by the fog, would feel a cool water-like sensation as if they were slowly being submerged in water and then a tingling that quickly turned to numbness. When the fog is completely gone, or someone has been in the area for a few moments, the numbness is no longer felt and instead the person involved would feel like their life force were no longer being strangled, like their chi were no longer blocked, the aftermath of having your back cracked in a good way or the sense of a heavy burden being lifted from the soul.

However, it only suppresses the darkness and does not remove the gloom completely. If someone afflicted by the living darkness left the area, the effects of the shadow would slowly come back to full life. The effects of the spell are so highly addictive that the spell is only ever used in extreme situations. This situation unnerved Eshrael, however, causing him to use it until he figured out the cause behind the withering. Though to see the fog unwilling to leave a few of the students would have worried Eshrael and perhaps worried him to the point of cancelling class. Unfortunately, all of this was unbeknownst to him as he had been rhythmically moving his hands about in a myriad of patterns and signs; his focus lost to all but the plant that was in front of him.

Finished, and now feeling as if class should have already started, Eshrael casually turned to face his students as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened. Sensing the slight warmth on his chest, he knew that his amulet was still active and began speaking, his voice fluid and enticing. “May the sun shine on you all this day… and truly it shall to all who are here,” he said adding a small smile of friendliness to show his obvious appreciation of all the students who had shown up to ‘a most boring and bland’ Arithmancy class. “Most of you, I am sure, have already had at least some experience with Arithmancy and all of you have been affected by its power whether known or unbeknownst to you. However, I must ask, that all of you with preconceived ideas or concepts of Arithmancy, to set them aside or toss them away for a moment.” He let a pause break between his words as he walked back to the front of the classroom, to the right side of his desk so that the students had a moment to clear their minds and focus on him.

“The power of arithmancy is studied in three separate aspects. The most commonly studied is the focus on one’s self; similar in essence to astrology. The second is the focus on its relationship between you and another being or object; similar in essence to relationship horoscopes. The third, and least studied, is the focus of arithmancy’s power over the environment; also similar in essence to Feng Shui.” Pausing for another moment, Eshrael made his way to the other side of his desk before continuing. “In this class, I will show you advanced theories and concepts involving each of these different topics. You will learn how to defend yourself more effectively from magic, how to enhance your own spell casting abilities, and how to unite yourself and your environment to heighten your senses. First however, I must lay the foundation of earth before you are able to grow into the higher fields of understanding. But before I begin, I have a gift for you all.”

Turning away from the class, Eshrael walked around his desk and opened a drawer containing quite a few quills which he had forgotten to set on the desks. Wordlessly, he levitated enough of them into the air for each of the students. Opening another drawer, he found a stack of blank paper a previous professor had left behind; which Eshrael was thoroughly thankful for. Wordlessly levitating the paper into the air as well, he directed a piece of parchment and a quill to each of the students. The papers landed in open desk space in front of each of the students if it could, if it could not it, he directed them to settle on top of any open books or stack of books. The quills were specially designed to take notes in classes and so hovered over each of the students’ papers they had just received, waiting for the professor to begin speaking. The quills would write of their own accord in clear, legible handwriting and paraphrase and shorten the professor’s words. He was astounded when he heard of the design and bought forty of them even though they were costly; more costly than most would imagine. However, he wanted his students to learn; not to lose focus because they thought they needed to write absolutely everything down.

Stepping back around from his desk, Eshrael lifted his staff and swung it slowly towards the back wall in a silent Locomotor spell, causing his desk to lift slightly and move up against the wall under the chalk board before resting upon the cold floor. “Hmm… now where was I?” he pondered for a few seconds to recall what he had been talking about as he turned to face the students and continue. “Ah, yes!... When Mother Earth first birthed, before Father Oak even cast his first shade, there was an underlying magical essence imbued into every creation; within every living creature and inanimate object. This essence has a rhythm much like the vibrations of music. In fact, if we use music as a metaphor for all of creation then each individual creature or object is a note within the song of the universe, and each note has a specific vibration. Let me show you…”

Lifting his staff to his mouth with his left hand, Eshrael exhaled upon the crystal before performing four arcing movements and finishing by raising it into the air and lowering it straight back to the position it was in the beginning. Within four seconds a luminescent, vertical green line about four feet long appeared floating in the air next to him like a cut in reality. Eshrael scanned his eyes across the classroom for a brief moment before addressing them in a curious tone, “Before I begin, I must wonder, how many of you already know your personal power number, or rather, your character number in accordance with the standard letter numeric values?” He understood that most of the students here, if not all, would already have known their power number but he did not wish to leave any student lost and wondering. Not only that but his demonstration would be less effective if the person did not know their number and it may have a frightening effect for them.

Curiously and with an intrigued expression he waited patiently for the students to speak up. He would award points to each house depending upon participation but he planned to keep whom and for what reason secret. He merely would announce it at the end of class. Eshrael preferred it this way as he did not like the idea of a social ranking due to earning house points.

(ooc: I took some liberties for roleplay purposes. Let me know if I should change them. Also please use this website for figuring power numbers and for this arithmancy class.)

[Silren Chalis]

Arithmancy was not her favorite subject and so caused no quickening of Silren's pace as she casually walked to the class. All the professors she had before had always been bores and whom always tried to turn the class into a mathematics class. Rolling her eyes at all the memories of her other professors and her emerald green dress brushing lightly along the floor, Silren finished the distance to the classroom.

Upon passing the entrance way walls, her eyes bulged out of her head as if they were trying to escape and free themselves towards the sight she saw. The professor, the plant life, and the green cut in reality all caught her breath in shock. After her mind finally accepted the situation, she gathered herself and made her way to sit next to Kerridon, giving him a wink and a friendly smile as she sat. Still, she could not help but look around twice more and pinch herself just to make sure. As she did, she offered Alessandro a pleasant smile and wink as well if she caught his attention.

[Katherine Knightswood]

Katherine took a quick peek around, and sighed. She didn’t want to be the first one to raise her hand, if at all possible. The Ravenclaw knew she was enough of a misfit and geek already, being one of the youngest in these advanced classes. But she did know her ‘personal power numbers’. In fact, her Nana had calculated her character, heart and social numbers for her, and then shown her how to do it so Katherine could calculate them herself. Katherine’s growing up the only child of a pureblood family meant she had been exposed to broad magical education early on in life. Her Nana had been a governess very long ago, and she’d been happy to tutor her granddaughter.

Katherine sighed inwardly and put up her hand. Once the professor acknowledged her, she spoke, a bit shyly. “My Nana taught me how to calculate my numbers. My character number is a three. My heart number is a two and my social number a one.” Katherine hesitated, and then continued. “The one odd thing my Nana pointed out about my full name is that each name I have reduces to a one on its own, adding up to three, the same as adding up and reducing all the letters in my entire name.” Katherine blushed and looked down at her notes, waiting for others to contribute and for the professor to respond.

[Keaira O'Connell]

Even though Keaira had not received a response from the other Slytherin, she really didn’t care. Annabelle was scarcely one of the few people that Keaira considered a close friend. Although, how many friends did Keaira truly have nowadays? Alessandro had been among the numbered few that she had, and now that seemed to be a thing of the past. D’rorah had far too many other things to worry about to be truly concerned with whether or not she was a friend, D’rorah was a leader.

Once upon a time Keaira had considered Wysteria with the ones she had though friends. But the Hufflepuff was now… well, in truth, she was the walking dead. A vampire. And even if things were not like that, even if she was still human, Keaira had managed to take Zane away from Wysteria… would a friend really take away the one you love?.. Well Keaira had, so maybe, she wasn’t a good friend. Maybe the real reasons behind her lack of friends were that she drove them out. Maybe Keaira had forced this near solitude upon herself. Maybe. But at least she had Zane.

As she mused on that subject her eyes wandered across the room, picking up on the details of how much things had changed since she had last seen the room. Was it truly the morning after returning from China that she had last been in this classroom? The very next morning after having met Zane, and helped save the night, and a few careless people…? Back then, Caity was still untainted by the war. She didn’t know what would soon be her fate, and neither did Zane. Although she had to admit, when the powers that be chose Zane, they really did make a gamble. He could have easily kept down his dark path, and ended up their worst nemesis, and yet, because of Wysteria, he didn’t. Yet, when whoever chose Caity made that decision Keaira always wondered what they were truly thinking. Choosing a pacifist to be a warrior for the side of good, now that was amusing.

Her thoughts were momentarily interrupted as she noticed the professor moving across the room. He seemed so strange, so foreign, and Keaira was at least a little relieved. If they had chosen a man that was a touch more normal would this class have been more difficult for her? Probably, but then again what was really so normal about a professor who was a ghost, who managed to transcend to be human again, only to be tortured and killed as he watch the same happen to his wife? Not much especially when you throw in the fact that he had shared a telepathic bond with a 15 year old girl.

Keaira’s eyes stayed on the professor as she began humming, and then they widened a touch when that humming turned to words, and a spell. The spell, like most spells had Latin roots to it, ones that she had no difficulty deciphering. The basic meaning of the phrase was ‘To attentively cleanse darkness’ which could really mean a lot of different things. Most of which she could only think of as positive things. Her eyes widened slightly as a fog began to flow out of his staff and invade the room. Although she trusted that the fog would not harm her considering the words behind the spell, she wasn’t sure she could trust the professor himself.

The fog swept through the room, touching each student, and crawling upward toward the ceiling. As she looked around she didn’t notice many students having a severe reaction to the fog, and yet, as soon as it touched her she felt different. It was as if she was plunged into a bucket full of ice water. A silent chill crept up her body, and encased her. But quickly that chill turned into a prickling sensation as if each inch of her body was touched in a manner most reserved for either extreme pleasure, or horrible torture. Though in all honesty the sensation itself was neither painful, nor pleasurable, it was simply there. And as soon as her entire body felt that tingling, it was all washed away in a flood of numbness.

For several long seconds she felt nothing. There was no strong negative emotion attached to the room, no pull of desire for the boy who sat next to her, and even when she tightened her hand upon itself and dug her nails into the clenched palm of her hand, she did not feel that either. Her eyes turned to face Zane, a questioning looked flashed with fear, and uncertainty was evident in the look she gave him. Then, as quickly as it came, the numbness was gone. And with its disappearance, Keaira felt something else leave her as well. Although she wasn’t quite sure what it was, she knew that she now felt better. Almost like the room no longer held that looming despair that she felt towards its last occupant. For some reason, Keaira just felt better, and she was far less troubled by being in Dien’s classroom than she had been.

Her hand unclenched, and Keaira relaxed against the chair, allowing her other hand to remain gently in Zane’s lap. She felt as if he would not need to hold it to help her though the class, but it would still be nice to have that soft touch of skin against skin. The professor made his way back to the front of the class, and Keaira’s eyes were focused on him once more. She listened to his words, and noted a few of them in her multi-toned inks. Although most of what he mentioned was already part of her knowledge, she still wrote it down. Her hand however paused as he mentioned a gift. Keaira frowned slightly at the quills, already knowing the nature of them. She hated items like that. For one, all of her notes were color coded, and with note-taking quills, you couldn’t teach them to color code your notes for you. Her frown further deepened as she noted that the parchment the professor handed out with the quills had been left behind by the previous professor. Dien had left some things here, she was certain about that. He had after all been killed at a time when he thought he would be returning with his wife in hand. The last thing he had expected was death.

Of course Keaira should have thought about the things Dien would have left behind months ago, but she hadn’t. With all of the distractions with Alessandro, and Zane, she had been far too busy worrying about her social life to consider one thing. Dien had found the elemental orb of metal. Now, with him dead, Keaira had no clue where it might be, and it was something she needed to find out. Perhaps the other things he had left here were being stored somewhere. Or maybe, and Keaira certainly hoped not, Caira had already acquired the orb, and had handed it over to Dark Phoenix. Whatever the case truly was, Keaira made a note to ask this new professor if he knew what happened to the old professors belongings.

When the parchment landed softly on her books, Keaira quickly switched it out for her notepad, and let the quill take over from there. The parchment was smoothly placed between her Potions and Charms book inside her book bag. Even with a quill to take verbatim notes for her Keaira still pulled out her own quill and a new notebook, and set about to write what she deemed worthy of writing, using her own system. After all if it wasn’t written using her own organized system of note taking, she might not be able to study it efficiently for test, quizzes and the like. Her writing was scarse though as he went back to speaking. He used metaphors, and the like to show things but she felt that they weren’t fully explained yet, and so they were incomplete. However, when he asked who among them knew their number she instantly raised her hand.

She was well aware of her number, and was thankful that most of her classmates would never even be able to calculate it correctly. Her eyes skimmed over the rest of the class, and rested silently on Kat as she began speaking. It was slightly shocking that the girl would openly reveal her power numbers to the rest of the class like that, but then again, Kat was a first year. Keaira kept her hand raised as she waited for the professor to acknowledge her. And silently she mused on the meanings behind her three numbers.

[Kerridon Paradox]

Kerridon watched with some interest as Eshrael continued to be immersed in the plant life around him rather than paying any attention to the students as they filtered in. He had never come across a teacher quite so odd before, and was certain that even had this not been an interesting class anyway, he would have remained fascinated for the remainder of the lesson by the druid. He greeted those students who spoke to him with a strange salutation, and one of his legs made a clunking noise every time he took a step with that foot. Even if you put aside the appearance, there was certainly much to hold his attention. Although he wasn’t directly staring – he had been taught never to do such a thing; it was far too obvious an action – he certainly wasn’t feigning complete disinterest. That would be even more obvious to anyone analysing his actions, which was entirely possible considering the sense he had of a slight lack of conviction from the lightfighters in believing his story when he had returned from the Shadow Realm.

The professor moved to examine some plants near D’rorah, which didn’t seem quite as healthy as the rest of the greenery decorating the room. He appeared to be in deep thought until suddenly he broke out of it, and started humming. Kerridon’s left arm prickled slightly as the vibrations wormed their way through the classroom and he watched warily as a glyph or rune was traced with a staff onto the floor. He kept the surprise from showing on his face when Eshrael let go of the staff but it continued standing, but a flicker of unrecognisable emotion ran over his face when the white mist appeared. Watching the fog warily, he stiffened slightly as it approached him and certain other students having healed the plants. It only clung for a second before dissolving, but he could feel a distinct change in atmosphere that made him nervous. He didn’t like spells that messed with his head, unless he was controlling them and knew exactly what they would do. The tingling that had spread throughout his whole body didn’t help at all with this. But the moment it faded, he felt better... like a weight had been lifted from his shoulders. However, it hadn’t escaped his notice that the fog had lingered around him and certain other students, and he didn’t want attention drawn to that fact, especially if the spell was anything like he thought it might be.

The professor began talking again and Kerridon listened even more intently than he had been watching before. Magic had just been performed, a spell he’d never seen or heard of before, and he wanted to know more about it. To his displeasure, it appeared that wasn’t an introduction to the lesson but simply Eshrael looking out for his plant life. Still, the topic seemed interesting enough, and the quills would certainly be useful. He nodded at Silren as she entered and sent a tiny smile her way, thinking a moment later how odd an action that had been for him. He didn’t usually offer voluntary signs of happiness to other people; in fact, the only person he could recall smiling at recently was Mami. When asked about who knew their character numbers, he raised his hand along with a few other students; it was one of the first things he had taught himself about arithmancy, although he wasn’t quite sure how well they reflected him.

[Zane Lucifer Bishop]

The pleasant illusion Zee held of he and Keaira being alone in a veritable garden of eden as they sat cloistered at the back of the room faded quickly as another Slytherin girl sat next to him. She greeted he and Keaira by name, to which he could only smile politely. It shouldn't have surprised him that she knew their names; they were the house prefects after all. Still he could not for the life of him remember hers though he knew he had seen her before. Keaira saved him from potential embarrassment however as she returned the greeting. Zee's mouth barely opened to reply, but the girl was speaking again. Pausing to glance about the room, he shrugged and turned back to respond, but then felt Keaira's hand on his leg, the light tickle as she moved one finger. The right corner of his mouth curved up in a small, amused smile. Aside from enjoying the sensation and the attention, Zee could well imagine the motivation behind Keaira's action and the timing thereof. He simply shrugged once more to Annabelle and turned back to the front, glancing sidelong at his Shadow Warrior.

As his attention drifted, Zee noticed one of the Ravenclaws at the front of the room looking his way and focused his gaze to meet Dylan Cooper's. His eyes widened slightly as the boy nodded his way, mechanically returning the motion. It had been a simple gesture, not exactly curt but not overly friendly. Still, coming from Dylan . . . the younger boy may as well have handed Zee a handmade friendship bracelet to add to his collection of random wristbands. It was even more surprising given Slytherin's recent defeat of Ravenclaw on the quidditch pitch. Childish as a grudge would have been, he had expected Dylan to hold one against him for a few days at least. Zee would have had Ravenclaw won. His eyes fell to his desk as his smile broadened, an unusual sensation budding within him; hope. Perhaps he could unite the Elemental Masters.

That thought kept Zee's thoughts inward, and he barely noticed Paris' entrance. He managed an absent nod in greeting to his captain that would have been more enthusiastic had his mind not been otherwise occupied. In fact he remained mostly oblivious to his surroundings long enough that he didn't realize the professor was doing something until the luminous mist crept into his field of vision. Immediately he tensed and shot glances in every direction. The fog came from the unconventional professor's staff and soon covered the floor. Leg's tightening, Zee prepared to spring to his feet should the effects of this enchantment prove unpleasant to him. As the fog rose however, he felt not a thing from it. There was no chill, not even any moisture. It left him effortlessly as it rose to the ceiling, though he noticed this was not the case with every student and quickly made a mental note of who it clung to.

His eyes were drawn to his side as he realized Keaira was in that group. Meeting her gaze, he saw the confusion and the fear. That look coupled with the general lack of feeling he got from her mind set him off, and Zee sprang into action, ready to kill this bizarre man if it would end the distress he was causing Keaira, or simply in retaliation for that he had already caused. Still tuned into her emotions however as he tried to feel something from her, The sudden cessation of her numbness hit him like a train and his legs gave way as he tried to stand, his bum landing back in his seat with a dull thud and the intended curse spilling forth from his lips in an indecipherable mess.

"Havramakidavah."

Fortunately he had intended to whisper the curse so it came out as nothing but a murmur. The sound of his failed attempt to stand was similarly quiet, and it was unlikely to cause much of a stir. As his best friend remained unharmed, Zee abandoned his quest for the druid's blood, though he still wondered about the fog. It had clung to D'rorah as well. Did it have something to do with mental energy? Both Shadow Warriors were telepathic. Shadow Warriors, another thing they had in common. But it had also held to Kerridon, and Zee was fairly certain that boy held no more psychic prowess than he did. Neither was he a Shadow Warrior. Not a Shadow Warrior, and yet . . . Interesting.

Though he listened intently to the increasingly fascinating professor, Zee of course sat reclined in his seat, looking more bored than anything. He slipped his hand under Keaira's as it rested in his lap and briefly brought it to his lips before intertwining his fingers with hers and setting both their hands in her lap. It worked out well, her left hand occupied and his right. She needed her right hand to take her extensive notes, whereas he never took notes during class, reserving that practice for his private studies. Contrasting Keaira's reservation at the notion of a gift, he grew slightly excited. Raised by very well-to-do and indulgent parents, Zee loved gifts.He also didn't mind this particular gift as much as she did. If he had something to write down what the professor felt was important, all the better. He could occupy his mind with what he thought mattered and still get good marks.

The quill began scribbling on the parchment he'd received, but Zee's focus had turned once again to the lovely prefect beside him. Something in her thoughts had caught his attention and had the potential to be far more interesting than the continued lesson.

What's an elemental orb?

Turning to once more face the front of the room, though his attention remained on Keaira, Zee raised his hand along with several other students. He of course knew his own character, heart, and social numbers, though he was less than eager to reveal them to the world at large. A disdainful smirk came to his lips as the youngest student present volunteered hers.

Just like a Ravenclaw. All knowledge, no cunning.

"I do know my power number, but I hope you will forgive me, Eshrael, if I don't offer up such knowledge. If you wish to calculate it out, I won't stop you. Yet to simply give freely any knowledge that would give an unknown entity a potential advantage is the domain of the foolish and the ignorant. I am neither."

Zee's tone was polite, speaking to the professor as an equal, but it of course had that self-assured edge that was typical for him.

[Katherine Knightswood]

Petit homme arrogant! thought Katherine to herself, resorting to French in her anger. The nerve of that conceited Slytherin pain in the -! Katherine reined in the thought, exerting the iron control her father had taught her. Katherine shook her head a little as she got her initial outrage under control. The Ravencalw hoped she wouldn’t be that blasted arrogant when she was that far up in years at Hogwarts. Another conceited older student who loves picking apart firsties, hmmm? Katherine sighed. Sounds full of himself. Kind of like Anton, the bane of my Ravenclaw existence. Katherine grinned into her parchment. If it weren’t for Dylan and Alessandro, I think I’d start hating boys . . . there are a few decent ones here at the school at least. Must be some magical disease certain boys pick up that turns them into royal pains in the bum.

Katherine returned her attention to the lesson, and suddenly had a thought. Who cares what the older students think, especially the boys? Maybe she could be like her idol, Hermione Granger Weasley. Or like D’rorah, who she was coming to admire for both her toughness and her brains. Or Keaira, who treated her like a fellow fighter, not a wet behind the ears child. Katherine would rather have the favor of the professors and the students she admired anyway. The young student smiled to herself at the thought of all the new friends she was slowly making among the Lightfighters.

Decision made, Katherine deliberately ignored the older Slytherin, all the while keeping him in her peripheral vision. That one needs watching. I don’t like his attitude or his mouth. His words may be poisoned honey, but they’re still poisoned. Imagine! Being openly rude enough to disrespect not only a classmate, but also a Professor! Katherine shook her head. Her Family would have been appalled if she’d done something like that. But then, her Family was rather unusual. They weren’t the kind of Purebloods to duel over a sharp word or take offense at the slightest provocation. All those years of diplomatic heritage were good for something after all. Katherine settled back in her seat, and awaited the Professor’s response, deliberately ignoring Zee’s insulting comment.