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Post by HADEN JORDAN WHITTLORE on Jun 22, 2009 15:30:03 GMT 1
...his hand lifted to the right hand corner of the book, separated the pages and turned from the current so he could go on reading. This bit of reading wasn't for leisure or pleasure but homework. History of Magic actually. And as riveting as this bit of reading was not, he found a way to keep him reading and far from bored at the same time. Settled in an arm chair well away from the rest of his gathered house mates, he had the book on his lap, propped up with a cushion so as to reduce the strain his neck would have experience while on the side, he had a book resting on the chair’s arm and was using it to press as he scribbled on a frayed piece of paper. What he was working on wasn’t much, but it was just something that would allow him to return back to the book and resume reading on the mind-gripping facts about Giants and their conflict with Wizards and the consequences that resulted. Honestly, many times he just opted to slamming the book closed and calling it a day because he could seriously care less about what happened years before he was born, but there was a reason he took the class in the first place and carried it on with him passed OWL level…he felt that reason had been lost over the years but…he pressed on. Not like he was going to drop it, not now that he’d come so far with the subject. He was certain that reason would come back to him one of these days.
But for now, he was going to take a brief break, sure the break may extended his natural definition of brief and he would ignore himself screaming to get back into studying before he regretted mission on all this precious time, but the fact was that he was going to return to the book eventually. He placed the paper and the quill in the book as the bookmarker for where he last read, then he closed the book and set it down at his feet; slumping in his seat moments seconds after. He was so comfortable right now. So much so he was beginning to question if he was going to make it to bed…or if he wanted to given that he had found a comfy position for him to pass the night. Speaking of passing the night, now that he was read for sleep to impose itself upon him, he was waiting for it…impatiently. Yes he lied to himself about going back to studying, not like he has not done it before, it’s just that sleep was calling him, but was it sleep? Did he misinterpret? Was he tired or had reading that book finally drilled boredom into his weary mind. It was certainly worth a thought, a thought he could not manage to conceptualize at the moment, nor would he wish to if he could. “So tired.” He said to himself as a yawn escaped him, passing up on putting his hand to his mouth as he was accustomed to.
He shut his eyes for a second, giving sleep an easy chance of taking its next victim for the night but nothing…nothing as yet and it forced him to open his lids back up and for the first time in a while he truly noticed those who occupied the room with him. At 10:48pm, according to his watch, there was a dark haired girl and a blond haired guy over in a corner, standing, talking, silently laughing and kissing without care or shame. They were into it, and each other. On the floor by the fire, a brown haired younger student was busy practicing turning her goblet into something else. That brought back a few memories; and finally, there was a girl, dark haired, thin and such, sitting in the window, looking out at the night sky. He looked at her for a minute then he turned and looked at the probable first year who had decided to call it a night. As she got to her feet, their eyes meet and he smirked. He wanted to try something. He held his head forward slightly, and with great ease he shook his head and every last strand of his dark brown hair turned silver, and when he met her gaze again, he met them with silver irises. There was shock on her face at first, but that quickly faded when Haden restored his true physical nature. They exchanged a smile, then she curried off to her dorm, leaving him there with the three others, one of which, the girl in the window, was looking at him curiously from her perch. He chose to avoid her gaze.
He didn’t usually do things like that. He found it a bit…insensitive… to flaunt a gift he was blessed with under odd circumstances. That wasn’t like him and for good reason. He was mute, one day he wasn’t and he was revealed to be a methamorphagus at the same time. The latter was cool but the former was the more important by leaps and bounds. At first he could not fight the urge to indulge to the point where it should have become a sin, but now, older and wiser by much, he was more careful with it. Changing his appearance only when he felt necessary, and if he was with friends and he was certain no harm would come of it, he would have some fun…like just now. It was worth it sending her to bed with a smile. That is something he saw as necessary at the time, not a necessity but it did some good nonetheless. He tilted his head back till it touched the cushion behind; then he closed his eyes and gave sleep another chance to take him because he was willing to go voluntarily, has been for the whole night now, but this attempt failed just as much as the other and he conceded defeat and victory at the same time. “Right…” He breathed, fighting another yawn. “…back to it.” He whispered on as he bent over to pick up the book from at his feet.
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Post by MELANIE ELIZABETH VANCE on Jul 18, 2009 22:13:08 GMT 1
bless the martyrs, kiss the kidsfor knowing better, for know this• • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • [/center]
Transfiguration was increasingly difficult. Not for her, of course, but for other students. They were transfiguring lamps into cats, and cats back into lamps. Sampson wasn't to pleased about being transfigured into a lamp, and back again, but Elizabeth figured he could deal. Her cat, a majestic black king of the universe, thought transfiguration was below his dignity. Was this animal cruelty, Elizabeth pondered as she looked at her book and waved her wand with a more swooshing motion that she had been using before. Poor Sampson now gave a slight glow, and had a retro flower lampshade. She flicked her wand again, taking the magic for granted and the flowered lamp turned back into a rather unhappy black cat. He gave her a reproachful glance that said quite plainly, If you try that one more time... Elizabeth sighed and attempted to wave her wand at him once more. The feisty cat hissed madly and and extended an unsheathed paw. Elizabeth conceded to defeat, she did not want to loose a finger to her cat, no matter how just the action would be. She put down her wand and closed her transfiguration book to show him that she would not be changing him into a lampshade anymore. She got out a mirror and decided it would be time to practice changing her own physical appearance. If only she was a metamorphmagus like that Whittlore boy. She muttered the spell, they hadn't covered nonverbal spells yet, and she did not want to try on her own. She watched, entranced, as her eyes changed shape and turned into a soft blue opposed to her normal deer-like brown. She tapped her eyebrows and they too changed into a softer blonde color and arched far more highly than her natural brows did. She already looked severely different, but decided that she could attempt her nose and mouth as well. She flicked her wand towards her mouth and it thinned out and reddened. Her nose shrank and turned up more aristocratically, as to look like it belonged to royalty. The Ravenclaw was immensely pleased, she didn't recognize herself except for her bushy mane of hair and tall stature. Those things she didn't dare change, they were far too large an object for a sixth year to attempt to change.
Pleased that she had progressed very well with Transfiguration, she moved on to writing her essay for History of Magic. She wanted to go into magical law enforcement, she she figured that a knowledge of wizardry history would help immensely. She looked over at the seventh year near her, and saw that he too was avoiding History of Magic. Professor Binns was not the most interesting Professor they had. As a ghost, he had no regard for the large amounts of lifetime he wasted with his students. Everyone knew there would be no other History of Magic teacher. You could fire a ghost, they would just stick around, forever. The idea brought a groan to Elizabeth. The thought of every next generation being taught by such a teacher was agonizing. She flipped open her textbook to the Goblin Revolutions. She had notes, but they were so indistinct, cluttered with drawings and places where her pencil slipped when she dozed off, which happened a lot even to studious individuals like herself. Binns was just so boring, Elizabeth couldn't help it. The textbook was much less boring, full of moving pictures and gory paintings. The pictures depicted treacherous goblins torturing dastardly wizards and dastardly wizards torturing treacherous goblins. It was a testimony to Binns boring voice that anyone fell asleep in such disgusting violent acts. Her horror grew as she wrote down her thoughts on whether or not "Triton the Tyrant" should have been tared and feathered for killing fifteen muggles. It was quite horrendous the pictures they showed of the muggles' bodies and Triton's own. She disagreed with the action taken against the goblin, for the revenge that they returned with was incredibly terrible. She placed her hand over her mouth as her horror grew. It was disgusting how little regard medieval creatures had for each others' lives. There was none, and each group was propelled for its own betterment. At least Professor Rowan was right. Pure-bloods were scum, goblins were just... different. She would not hesitate to kill a pureblooded monster, but to kill an innocent goblin would be a crime that no punishment was worthy.
Feeling she needed to take a break from such horrendous things, she turned to the seventh year, who obviously needed a break as well. She didn't have much to talk about except school. Yes, school. "Are N.E.W.T.s really that awful?" she asked, eying his very long essay. Technically she was in the N.E.W.T. program, but she didn't have that much work, yet. And she knew the workload would increase. Being a Ravenclaw, she knew she could handle it, but she would not look forward to it, like some of her peers. She didn't have anything better to do, but pointless work was not something she enjoyed. That's why she had dropped Astronomy, Divination, Arithmancy, and Muggle Studies. She had continued all basic classes that first through fifth years were required, excluding Astronomy, in addition to ancient runes and dueling. Dueling was always a good skill to have, and it was like an empty period to do nothing in, because it wasn't like they learned any new spells, yes, she probably should have dropped Dueling, but she hadn't felt like it. She wasn't sure why she had asked the seventh year about NEWTS, everyone knew they were really that awful, but anything to get her mind off that horrid History of Magic. She couldn't wait to get to the present day. At least she knew what You-Know-Who had done, and she could hate him justly. Agree with what drastic steps had been taken, be passionate with fury like everyone else, except for perhaps the children of Death Eaters. Then she could laugh at them for their parent's idiocy and cruelty. Then she would smile and imagine how they would feel when the world of purebloods really did finish. The first Wizarding War, was only a dent in the Pureblood mantra. The second stripped them of their armor. This last would be the final sword stroke to kill their whole world. Elizabeth blushed as she realized that she looked like a demented clown and had gotten distracted in her own world, and missed his answer. "Excuse me, could you repeat?" She hoped her wasn't freaked out by her odd appearence. Anyone normal would be.
status • complete word count • 1102 lyrics • Tales of a Scorched Earth - The Smashing Pumpkins credit • AMANDA IN WONDERLAND !? @ caution
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