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Post by Caitlin Collins on Aug 9, 2008 14:19:56 GMT -5
Blinking back the sunlight shining directly onto her face, Caity grimace and forced herself to sit up properly and open her eyes completely, preventing any visions of the nightmare returning to her mind’s eye. She immediately focussed her thoughts elsewhere, as she had learnt to do as soon as she woke up. What time was it? Late... too late. There was little sound coming from the rest of the common room and the sun, from what she could make out without blinding herself, was quite high in the sky.
Swearing once softly to herself in Hindi, she jumped up from the armchair she’d been curled up in. It was facing one of the large windows, so likely those who might have been kind enough to wake her wouldn’t have seen her. Any who had seen her asleep had likely just laughed. She had certainly managed to ostracise herself successfully, even with the status of house prefect. In fact, that might even have helped – she was sure that several of her housemates thought they deserved the position more than the new, quiet girl. She herself wasn’t entirely sure how she’d managed to secure the title, but assumed it was the general air of sincerity she was vaguely aware of around her – they probably thought she was unlikely to abuse her powers. Plus, she had been a pretty good student... before everything else had happened. Now, she wasn’t exactly the greatest role model. Like now, for example.
Leaving the common room quickly, all the books she needed already in her bag, Caity didn’t go immediately to class. Instead, she headed downwards, to the elf kitchens. After what had happened in Defence she had made sure not to miss any more meals, as ordered by the school nurse once she’d finally made it to the hospital wing. The elves were by now used to her running in and out, and one had supplied her with a glass of pumpkin juice and a warm, buttered bread roll within a minute of her entering the kitchens, accompanied by a cheerful greeting. Only a few minutes later she was bidding them goodbye and racing up the dungeon corridor again.
Making her way up several flights of stairs, Caitlin eventually found herself outside the classroom door. Finding three other people already there, she guessed she wasn’t the only one who was late, and stood behind them so they could enter first.
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Tommy Bryce
Gryffindor
[red]1st Year Gryffindor[/red]
You bend and you bruise me while you try to control me
Posts: 104
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Post by Tommy Bryce on Aug 9, 2008 15:36:45 GMT -5
Tommy stared into the mirror, his body twisted around so he could see his bare back. The dormitory was empty – he’d made sure of that first – and the fading red t-shirt was handing from one hand. The other arm was angled around his body so that his fingers could trace the thin, white line that ran from his right shoulder blade diagonally across to three-quarters of the way down his spine. Unlike other occasions when he’d checked on the injury, twisting didn’t really hurt it. There was an aching as the puckered skin was stretched, but nothing agonising like the first time he’d done this. A triumphant little smile spread across his face as he came to the conclusion that it was pretty much healed, and faster than something like this might usually take – after all, there were no new injuries on top of it to make it worse. All over his skin, front as well as back, were white marks and lines, with the occasional darker patch where multiple bruises on top of each other had failed to disappear completely. It was all a tribute to living with his father and protecting his brothers.
Glancing at the clock hanging above the mirror, Tommy realised with a stroke of terror in his stomach that he did in fact have a lesson next – he’d got the day wrong when he’d been thinking it over earlier! Spinning about and almost falling over in his haste, he pulled the t-shirt over his head and grabbed the robe on the floor. Hurriedly packing his bag, while dressing himself in the second-hand, too large black robe, he was finally done. Tugging the last trainer onto his left foot, he slung the canvas bag over his shoulder and ran from the room.
Several heads turned to watch the first year race through the corridors but he ignored them, all thoughts focussed on not being late. From what he’d seen of Hogwarts, most punishment was detention, but he didn’t want to test that theory and find that certain teachers held similar ideas to his dad. Reaching the right corridor he slowed a little, allowing some of the redness to fade from his cheeks but finding there was a little holdup in entering the classroom – several other students were also a little off being on-time. He edged forward to stand behind the girl at the back, keeping his eyes fixed to the floor.
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Post by annabelleadams on Aug 10, 2008 20:17:27 GMT -5
Being late to class was not something Annabelle had never experienced, though she tried to avoid it. Today, however, her hair simply would not straighten properly. Refusing to leave even the slightest of curls in it had caused her to leave the common room far later than she should have. Nevertheless, she took her time walking to the classroom.
As she strode casually down the empty halls, she admired the peaceful aurora. It was such a relief to walk down the halls without having to worry about some pesky first year not looking where they were going. However, the walk was short lived, taking her under ten minutes to reach the Transfiguration classroom.
Upon her arrival, she discovered she was not the only one who was late. Smiling slightly, she joined the rather large group standing in the doorway. A couple people in front of her, she saw her friend Paris was late as well. As the group waited for the professor's acknowledgment and instruction, she hoped he wouldn't hold her tardiness against her. Though her lateness hardly bothered her, leaving a bad impression on the professor would.
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Post by Gavril Romanov on Aug 10, 2008 20:28:10 GMT -5
No sooner than clasping his hands together did the girl in the front row shoot her hand up, ready as ever to answer his question. It seemed as though she was the only one that knew the answer, and as Gavril surveyed her choice of wardrobe, Ravenclaw Robes, the aforementioned stereotype clicked in his head yet again. He paused momentarily, his eyes scanning the rest of the room, which had remained idle. Out of all of the students present, only one knew the meaning? He found it hard to believe. It was a Latin based word, a parent of the English Language.
"I must say that I'm surprised that only one of you knows the answer to my question. Yes, you there, please state your name and year, and response." He said moving toward his desk to grab a quil to write down her name once given. As he looked back up awaiting her response, he noticed several people clustered at the doorway. One student quickly side-stepped the others, muttering his apology for his tardiness as he took his seat, yet the others remained in the doorway.
He held his index finger out in D'rorah's direction with his eyes focused in on the group at the door. "Please do come in, as I'm sure you all wouldn't want to hold up class any longer now. I wont penalize you for today, but please bear in mind that I start my classes promptly." He said to the group of students awaiting admission as if this were some sort of permissory event. His voice was soft, yet stern, and his face did not twitch or shift to form of maladjustment.
Once the six students had filtered in and taken seats, he turned to D'rorah to apologize for the interruption, and then to the class.
"I apologize, Miss. For those of you who just arrived, we were just about to hear what the root of the word on the board is, what language it's from, and what we are about to try our hands in today." He said, his eyes sweeping the class.
He clasped his hands again at his torso, and then nodded to D'rorah. "Please continue."
OOC: I don't even know what time of day it is, lol. We'll just go with morning for now.
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Post by D'rorah Philosophy on Aug 11, 2008 7:22:01 GMT -5
Being called upon to answer the question, D'rorah lowered her hand and opened her mouth to speak. However, before she could begin to answer the question that had been posed to the class at large, she found a finger held up in her direction, beckoning her to pause. Quietly, she closed her mouth and waited for her fellow students to take their seats. She could appreciate the Professor's quiet and professional way with the students, seeing that he preferred to get on with class, rather than lecture the latecomers. Mixed in with the sounds of the other students arriving had been a very familiar voice. She heard Dylan sigh as he took the seat behind her and wondered at the fact that he had not chosen one of the open seats next to her. Unable to discreetly greet him, she sent a quiet mental thought in his direction. [blue]Good morning, Mister Cooper. You are well, I hope?[/blue]
When he was finished, and had repeated the question for the benefit of those newly arrived, Professor Romanov had granted D'rorah freedom to begin her reply.
"[blue]Thank you, Professor,[/blue]" she replied quietly with a small nod. "[blue]My name is D'rorah Philosophy. I am a seventh year Ravenclaw student[/blue]." She didn't have to add, given her American accent, that she was a rather recent transfer student. Besides, that information hadn't been asked for. The introduction out of the way, she delved into her answer.
"[blue]Scutulum is a diminutive form of the Latin root word, scutum... it often refers to a long, wooden shield carried by Roman infantrymen. However, it could also refer to a small constellation positioned between Sagittarius and Aquila... a star in the constellation Carina. Interestingly enough, the word is sometimes confused with another Latin word, Scutella, which is a sort of plate-like dish. I venture that perhaps today we shall endeavor to transfigure our scutellum into scutulum... that is, transform the plates before us into shields.[/blue]"
Satisfied with her answer, she quietly closed her mouth and returned her gaze to her quill and parchment, waiting to make notes as the professor continued the lecture. It seemed like it would be an interesting lesson, at least.
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Post by Katherine Knightswood on Aug 11, 2008 11:31:39 GMT -5
Katherine sat at her desk, hesitant to raise her hand, even though she thought she knew the answer to the Professor’s question. She was the youngest student here so far, and she didn’t want to see like a young know-it-all. It was tough being the youngest student in most of her classes. But her thirst for knowledge kept her plowing ahead. She just put up with the inevitable teasing and looks that came her way sometimes.
Katherine smiled as D’rorah answered the Professor’s questions. Well! She might have actually guessed right after all. Now Katherine sort of regretted not raising her hand. Oh, well, let D’rorah have the credit. Besides, she was a Ravenclaw too, so their House still looked good. Katherine took a few notes on what D’rorah had said, having forgotten about the diminutive form of the word. Scutum, scutulum, scutella. Blast it all, she’d have to go over her Latin books again and re-check on her forms. It had been a while since Nana and Maman’s lessons. Time to hit her Latin texts and refresh her memory a bit.
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Post by parisnowan on Aug 11, 2008 20:04:36 GMT -5
At the sound of the Professor's words, Paris stepped into action. Waiting at a doorway was not the funnest thing and Paris was glad that he wasn't too angry that such a large group had arrived at class late. Casually walking ahead, her calm and cool aurora still in tact, she searched for an empty seat; particularly one far away from Lydia. She hoped that this professor would not identify her with Lydia; as, even though they were identical, Paris had no intention of behaving like her look-a-like and did not want to be "taken down" by her rebellious ways.
Finally finding a seat, and smiling slyly to herself, she turned her head a little to look at the students behind her. She realized that one of them was Annabelle. Why had she not known that she was taking this class? That in itself was surprising, yet again, it somehow wasn't...Paris smiled cooly, and made a head movement as to say, "Over here," and then sat down.
Paris barely recognized the voice that was now answering the Professor's question, but her eyes followed the voice until they landed on D'rorah Philosophy; the older girl she had met in Moaning Myrtle's laboratory. Sighing a little to herself as she listened to the older Ravenclaw speak, she couldn't help but feel intrigued. "Of course she would know the answer." She thought to herself. In their little encounter, Paris had quickly picked up on the fact that D'rorah was full of impressive intellectual talent, so this was no shock. It only made sense that she would be a master of languages as well.
But there was something intriguing about the extremely intelligent older girl. Something didn't seem...normal. It was as if there was so much hidden underneath her...so much kept secret. Paris' eyes dwindled on D'rorah Philosophy, even after she had finished speaking. Paris had been advised by her father to keep her eyes open for anything abnormal...and now, after reflecting on the irritating and odd encounter they'd shared before, she resolved to truly keep her eyes on her.
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Post by lydianowan on Aug 11, 2008 20:30:45 GMT -5
Lydia's mind was going in and out of the classroom...already. It began with the Professor asking the class a question...something about the root of the word, what language it was from...and potentially what they were going to be studying. Sure, it made sense for him to ask such a question since he had admitted that he'd studied languages...but, how was she supposed to know this? Didn't the Hogwarts staff teach in English not whatever language this odd word came from?! And clearly, it was not a requirement to learn more than one language to study at Hogwarts...Or, was it now? Already weary of this lesson, Lydia put her head down on her desk.
So much for good impressions. Lydia didn't even see the number of students arriving at the doorway; her sight became fixated on a random crack in the wall. She stared at it intensely, trying to cheer her self up. It was amazing how only seconds ago she had been so cheerful; one difficult question, and she was already weary and bored. However, it was more tiredness and frustration with herself. It seemed, that even when she did try in class, she still wasn't good enough. And the professors wondered why she got out of hand in class? But this thought process was typical of Lydia, this was the girl who was notorious for behaving poorly in class and putting parties over homework.
"I must say that I'm surprised that only one of you knows the answer to my question."
Are you kidding me? She wanted to blurt out her message but didn't. Lydia was known for talking back to teachers, but there was a difference between arguing a point logically when the occasion called and just being rude and disrespectful. No, Lydia. You're not going to do that! Cheer up, this is your chance. Her head still down on her desk, she listened to the Professor say more. It was at this moment that she realized that there were more students who had arrived; late, actually; and lot's of them!
As her eyes fell on her look-a-like, she slowly sat up and looked straight at the board. So Paris was late? She tried not to smile. How interesting... She only half-listened as her teacher finally called on a Ravenclaw student (typical) and jotted down a few things she said. Her notes read:
Scutulm Latin, soldier. Magic. Transfigure. Plate, shield.
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Post by kairava on Aug 14, 2008 1:57:16 GMT -5
Hearing the professor beckon him, and the others he was with, into the classroom to take a seat, Kai obliged. Seeing that Siren was not in the class he was a little disappointed but he quickly and unobtrusively worked his way to the nearest open seat of the Ravenclaw girl, who raised her hand first, anyway. Kai listened as he walked though so that he would not miss any important information; there was no need to start the day off behind. Glad that he was sitting next to someone so knowledgeable, he began unpacking his belonging from his book bag without any worries for what the class may bring, though he was usually not one to have problems. He imagined that the classes at Al’Nirah were more difficult but there was no reason to slack now either so he continued listening intently and writing down notes as the professor talked.
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Post by Silren Chalis on Aug 14, 2008 2:35:44 GMT -5
After hearing the professor usher her in, she curtsied quickly and moved towards an open seat next to Kerridon. She did not care for the interruption it might bring and enjoyed being in the center of attention anyhow; she fancied the skilled balance between respect and arrogance. After sitting, Silren smoothed her dress and pulled out her belongings from her purse and cast Engorgio on them like usual. Strangely she was not in the mood to converse but she still spoke up for Kerridon with a smile, “I wonder if this class will be worth it,” she said adding a small, quiet laugh afterwards. Thinking that it might be a good idea, she finished pulling out her parchment and began taking notes.
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Tommy Bryce
Gryffindor
[red]1st Year Gryffindor[/red]
You bend and you bruise me while you try to control me
Posts: 104
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Post by Tommy Bryce on Aug 14, 2008 18:38:33 GMT -5
Tommy followed as the crowd by the door trickled through at the professor’s words. Glancing around the classroom, he couldn’t see anyone there that he knew – the girl from the Ollivanders, a few people from other classes... but no one he could remember having a conversation with in the past. Pushing away the edges of panic, he slipped into a sit on his own in the third row back, quickly pulling out his books, quill and ink.
"I apologize, Miss. For those of you who just arrived, we were just about to hear what the root of the word on the board is, what language it's from, and what we are about to try our hands in today."
The word on the board... Tommy quickly jotted down the word ‘Scutulum’ at the top of his sheet of parchment. As D’rorah began to speak, he continued writing down notes. Plates into shields... something else that sounded difficult. He was having difficulty with some of the work set in classes, but hopefully if he practiced enough he’d get it eventually.
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Post by Caitlin Collins on Aug 14, 2008 19:17:48 GMT -5
Caitlin could feel a couple of other latecomers bustle up behind her, but did not turn her head. She was more concentrated on getting into the classroom than her classmates right now. Hearing the professor’s words for them to enter, she followed. Similarly to Kai, she slid into a near seat, right next to him and Dee. She gathered up the usual items from her bag and placed them quietly on the desk. Instead of jotting down notes she just listened to D’rorah, not wanting to cause a disturbance by rustling about and finding a clean piece of paper. She had never heard of scutulum before. Plates into shields could be useful though, considering the war. She always preferred defence to offense. Once she had finished speaking, Cait quickly found a spare sheet and wrote down what she could remember of what had been said.
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Post by Dylan Cooper on Aug 14, 2008 19:47:16 GMT -5
Still needing to brush up on his only recently learnt basic Latin, he failed to comprehend the meaning behind the word on the board. Dylan received a small mental greeting from the woman seated in front of him and he returned it awkwardly, still not entirely used to this form of communication, no matter how useful it was at times. 'Morning, Dee,' he replied without too much emotion. 'I'm fine, and yourself?' Waiting for an answer, his thoughts were still shrouded in slight embarassment and concern after their last meeting, and he secretly hoped she would not realise that; then again, she was very intelligent indeed, so being a telepath might have absolutely nothing to do with her understanding of the situation.
Jotting down a few notes as he searched his textbook, he noted the usefulness of the spell in light of the current situation surrounding the school and told himself to get it perfected as soon as possible.
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Post by Alessandro Darko on Aug 14, 2008 21:27:39 GMT -5
Alessandro nodded as the professor answered his question. So he hailed from Russia. That was a particularly interesting place for one of their new teachers to have been from. Durmstrang was the Wizarding school in Russia, to his knowledge, and their procedures ran a bit differently. There was a sort of respect that was commanded there that Alessandro felt Hogwarts was bereft of. Smiling at the professor briefly, he went back to his notes.
Kerridon Paradox. Didn't he belong to Ravenclaw House? His front row seat remained empty as he opted to sit far back. Curious indeed. Alessandro turned behind him in a quizzical manner as he watched Kerridon take his seat. Little did he know, he played a paramount role in his kidnapping. It was he that had leaked the information to Keaira, willingly or not, which led to his rescue courtesy of his favorite Slytherin Prefect, and the other one, Zane. Had Alessandro known that Kerridon knew and didn't do anything to prevent his capture, and was actually working against them, he may have swiveled in his chair, and without warning cast a Cruciatus curse on him right there. Yes that did seem to be his unforgivable of choice as of late. Memories of the battle between himself and Zane, well, his alter-ego, Darko, and Zane inundated his memory. Darko had attempted to Cruiciate Zane, and had it not been for his unknown Protego charm, he may have very well succeeded in committing his first act of Wizarding Crime.
Glancing up from his notes as the professor called for someone to explain what they would be doing today after breaking apart the word "Scutulum", his hand was halfway into the air before he noted that D'rorah Philosophy's was already commanding its place in the air prominently. He let his slump back down across his desk and waited for her answer, as he was sure she would get it right and win them some points for Ravenclaw. As professor Romanov had called upon her, he cut her off before she could begin her response as a small crowd of students was seen huddling in the doorway. Dylan Cooper was probably the most practical of them all as he sidestepped them and took a seat directly behind D'rorah. A move that he would have done himself instead of dawdle even longer. He tried to send Dylan a small smile and quick wave 'Hello' but he wasn't sure if his friend had been in a mood to acknowledge him quite yet. It was hard trying to resume daily function after going crazy. It just wasn't something people were prepared for; dealing with two different people inside one.
As Professor Romanov allowed the students entry and bade them to take their seats, he allowed D'rorah to continue. Alessandro let his eyes linger on each one as they filtered into class. He felt the corner of his mouth twitch up ever so slightly into a barely noticeable smirk, as if he was having some private moment feeling altruistic about being on time. He rarely was late, as most Ravenclaws are not.
He jotted down the meaning and what they would be doing today, and then took a moment to examine his plate. It was rather large, rimmed with a gold lacquer, and almost had a bowl-type quality to it, for the edges seemed to flare up. He picked it up in his hands, drawing his fingers around the circumference and down the diameter of it, feeling it, getting a sense of its current state, and prepping himself for the transfiguration.
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Post by annabelleadams on Aug 15, 2008 23:49:13 GMT -5
As per the professor's request, the group lingering in the doorway (herself included) filed into the classroom. Annabelle scanned the rows of students who had already been present to find only a handful Ravenclaws and Gryffindors. Her attention the turned to the group entering in front of her. For a moment she wished she was not the last one in the group. The latest of the latecomers was not a good impression to make. However, it was too late to do anything at the present so she brushed off the concern.
The first two late entries were both new to the school. She recognized the girl as being in her house, though Annabelle had not formally met her yet and did not recall hearing her name. Entering behind the girl was Paris. As Paris selected a set, their eyes met. Paris made the tiniest gesture to indicate for Annabelle to join her. Annabelle returned the smile and waited for the remaining students to move from her path. When the remaining two in front of her had begun towards their seats, she was also able to take her seat with Paris.
Sitting down, Annabelle gave her friend a brief smile of acknowledgment before Professor Romanov informed them of the question he had asked. Her gaze shifted to the board where the word "Scutulum" had been written. Not a second later, a girl began to answer the question that had been posed. From the classes she had shared with D'rorah since her arrival at the start of the year, the fact that the answer came from her was no surprise. It seemed that the girl had the answer to every question. Though she was not arrogant about it, her vast knowledge still slightly irritated Annabelle at times, though it also intrigued her.
D'rorah's words prompted Annabelle to notice the large plates on each of the desk. She nonchalantly reached out to delicately touch her own. So they would be turning these plates into shields. It was certainly a more useful lesson than others she had encountered in her studies. Though Annabelle hardly took her involvement in the Shadow Wars seriously, she did want to be able to thoroughly defend and protect herself if something ever were to happen.
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