A Year Ahead [Prodigal] - Defense Against the Dark Arts

10 Dec 2024, 21:49

Spell Name: Disarming Charm
Incantation: Expelliarmus ex-PEL-lee-ar-muss
Wand Movement:

October 7

In the flickering light of the Slytherin Common Room, Saunders unfurled an old textbook he borrowed from the library where he frequented. His navy blue eyes darted to the page subtitled The Disarming Charm. It was a second-year spell, so, according to the presumably wise pedagogs and educators, casting it was far beyond the magical abilities of a first-year like him. But Saunders Napier was not like most first-years. With an eager determination, he read and then reread that particular incantation, rolling the syllables over his tongue like tasting a rare Danish pastry.

The spell’s purpose thrilled him: to wrench a wand, the object which could be regarded as the very essence of a wizard’s might, from an opponent’s grasp. That could be super handy, especially if he was ever going to deal with some bullies. But mere knowledge about a spell would not be sufficient for the Napier boy. He was aware of the dire fact that he needed practice in order to master that spell; and for that, some of his fellow snakes could help him - at least, temporarily, until the lucky day he would find a proper and truly talented practice partner. For a very brief moment, the faces of several candidates performed a cinematographic parade through his mind. "Brian," Saunders finally decided, "he's probably the easiest to persuade." Brian, therefore, was going to be the replacement of a yet non-existent practice partner of Saunders.

Brian was another Slytherin, another first-year, belonging to the distinguished group of humanity that did not stand out much, but was social, maybe a little too social and cheerful. It was not possible to notice that there was a bit of malevolence in Brian's character though. Almost the entirety of his sense of humour was practically built on mocking others, if not in a completely heartless way. But that was why Saunders deemed Brian a perfect suit for his endeavour. "Brian wouldn't want to miss a scene where I might terribly fail," he thought, and he was pretty right.

“Let me get this straight,” Brian dramatically howled, arms crossed and with a face as grumpy as an irate pixie, “You want me to help you learn a spell you’re not even supposed to know yet?" His exaggerated attitude was amusing to witness. “First of all,” Saunders replied, flicking his hair, “there is nothing wrong about wanting to protect oneself. Second, you’re just afraid to face the fact that I might be much more skilful than you people.” Ah, the sweet dynamic of teasing. Saunders arched his back like a skilful hunter luring his prey into his burrow.

“Afraid?” Brian's insecure laugh echoed in the Common Room, "Fine. I’ll help, but only because watching you fail will be highly entertaining.” Saunders smirked. There was no particular need for the little star to twinkle for the time being, but it would have been pretty nice if little Brian had been his practice partner, just as Saunders wanted him to be.

Together, the two made their way to the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom. Fortunately enough, the classroom was not located in one of the towers, so they did not have to climb the Moving Staircase to get there, that is to say, they did not have to endure the hardships one would only expect from a medieval pilgrimage.

The first few attempts were, admittedly, far from being promising. Saunders pointed his wand made of cherry wood at Brian and shouted, “Expelliarmus!” with all the theatrics of a medieval wizard-knight. Despite the fact that the boy did everything strictly by the book, nothing meaningful happened. “Maybe try not yelling like you’re scaring off an imp,” Brian suggested tongue-in-cheek, barely suppressing his laughter.

“Oh, shut it,” Saunders muttered. He was ready to give it another try. Still nothing. A faint spark fizzled at the tip of his wand, and a second later he realised that Brian’s wand remained firmly in his grip. “Well, that was adorable,” Brian remarked, mockingly brushing his robes. “Did you tickle me, or was that a spell?” Saunders refused to rise to the bait. Yet, “You're far more talkative for a practice dummy," he couldn't help but add, in an openly bitter tone. Brian put a hand to his chest, feigning offence: “You wound me, my noble sire..." Almost an hour dragged on, punctuated by Brian's helpful criticisms (such as "That flick was more limp than a Flobberworm”) and Saunders’ increasingly creative retorts (“If I wanted advice from a walking broomstick, I’d ask one”).

Having rested for a while, they resumed their position. Saunders' tired mind repeating the incantation like a holy mantra. Apparently, the boy concluded, this was not about brute force; but precision, control, self-discipline, and, most importantly, belief. As the sun dipped below the horizon, Saunders took a deep breath - in a somewhat despondent but not yet discouraged mood: “Expelliarmus!” It was possible at that very moment to offer two alternative interpretations of the situation: either this was the fierce last stand of his magical prowess or he was aware of the fact that he was about to step over the edge of the threshold of his tolerance for Brian's continuous and ever-worsening sardonic behaviour.

Regardless of which interpretation was the correct one, however, the spell shot forward unexpectedly for both of them, hitting the magic instrument in Brian's right hand squarely. Saunders witnessed in awe that the wand flew out of Brian's well rounded fingers and spun in the air, then hit the ground a few centimetres away.

Brian is a dNPC, there's no godmodding. WC: 888

Orion Lécuyer

Professor of Defence Against the Dark Arts, IV

1 163 279

12 Dec 2024, 00:54

@Saunders Napier
Your RP for 'Expelliarmus' for Prodigal DADA Learner has been accepted and you may now apply to add it to your trunk.

│
│

EN
CY

│
│

STA: 10 • EVA: 15 • STR: 5
WIS: 20 • ARC: 5 • ACC: 20

│
│

• Calming Presence • Perfectionist • Evasive Maneuvers I & II •
• Nonverbal Magic • Wandless Magic • Occlumency • Legilimency •

│
│

WINNIE:
FELIX:

│
│

Saunders Napier

Second year, Slytherin

130 57

28 Jan 2025, 00:11

Spell Name: Blindfolding Spell
Incantation: Obscuro ob-SKOO-roh
Wand Movement:

January 17

┏
┓

Oh God, how festively the time pelts when some delightful pursuit inveigles, and how callously it drags its feet when boredom, that most revolting of spectres, does creep nigh! Such was the twofold nature of time that had only just begun to unveil its well-hidden contours before Saunders' azure eyes. For in and around the lenten halls of Napier Manor, time always seemed to flow laggardly, its sands trickling through a sieve narrowed by some malefic hand. Especially so after the sacking of his Welsh nanny as the outcome of a dire alliance: the insouciance of his father, who always carried himself as if under the effect of an Imperius curse, and the obsessional temper of his mother, which seemed to have drunk deep of some bitter draught that turned her icy-cold heart against her son's gaiety.

Today, at least within the confines of Saunders' personal realm, time had chosen to flow in the most halting gait. The hours were creaking by like the hinges of a long-ungreased door from Noah's ark dis- or misused for aeons, and the minutes marched forth in a tune that was far from melismatic. It was only then that the young Slytherin recalled a piece of advice his grandpa had once murmured (for wise words are always delivered in a murmur). "If, my dear lad," the old man had begun, his words as antediluvian as his wrinkled face, "you wish to avoid that grim angst we call ennui, you must endeavour to keep yourself occupied." This he had said while tinkering with one of the curious contraptions in his alchemy laboratory. "Never forget the fact that a lackadaisical man," he continued in that fatherly, warm tone, "is like a hound let off its leash, yet clueless as to what to do with its fortuitous manumission." At this memory, Saunders smirked wryly. “Huh,” he mused, “it seems every Napier is like a hen laying eggs of aphorism. But at least grandpa's sayings, unlike mother's, carry far less harsh.” And not only were they less harsh, but they were also of great use. Well, at least in this particular matter.

For Saunders, blessed as he was, since his very first weeks at Hogwarts, had stumbled upon a passion to which he could devote himself with the utmost fervour: DADA. His heart, whenever he practised these spells, and especially those beyond his ken, leapt like a starling, not from fear, nay, but from pure elation. It was through this shared interest that he had crossed paths with Edwin, and the two had already begun practising together. Why, he had even managed to cast a solid Expelliarmus against his first duelling opponents! Studying these spells, Saunders felt, was like standing at the edge of the freshest of springs, cupping his hands in its crystalline water, but only to find himself thirstier with each sip anew.

"Well, then," thought the young snake, "it is the time for a bit of practice, at least to make the hours fly swifter." And so, he set off upon a path so well-trodden that his feet and mind alike had long since committed it to memory, treading it with the familiarity of an oft-travelled road. This journey was much like that of a train, and finally, Saunders' eyes, reminiscent of the headlamps of a locomotive, fixed themselves upon the door of his destination.

The question was: Which spell should he practice today? He ran through the list he and Edwin had compiled together. "The Tongue-Tying Spell, or the Blindfolding one, hmmm," he began to ponder. To make up his mind, the Napier boy first imagined Maisie with her tongue strictly tied and then pictured her stumbling blindly about. Both were, admittedly, quite enticing. Should her tongue be silenced, Saunders reasoned, it would deliver a blissful reprieve to his ears. That'd mean a Hogwarts free from her interrogations. How lovely that'd be! But if her eyes were blindfolded, that too promised amusement. She'd not be able to dart after him like an overzealous fawn, nor would she have the opportunity to accuse him of indifference to the threats posed by the devil creatures that might villainously plunder the castle, or, Merlin's mighty beard forbid, of failing to take note regarding a wart that might tragically appear on a friend's back. "The latter is more plausible," he concluded, a warped smile carving itself into the right side of his face.

He took up his wand and positioned himself before a practice dummy. No, he had not brought Brian with him today. That boy, to put it kindly, and as much as Saunders hated to admit it, was a most ineffectual practice partner, and Saunders, though he was not intended to be particularly cruel, found even an inanimate object preferable to him. At least the dummies did not pose any threat to pepper a solid practice session with some ill-timed jokes.

Then he made a gesture with his wand that looked like the letter P in his neat handwriting. First he tilted his wand 45 degrees to the right, then he drew a semicircle in the same plane, and finally, he flicked upwards, as if completing another symmetrical semicircle above its opposite on the left. "Obscuro!" he bellowed with all his might. A beam of light shot from the tip of his wand, and Saunders saw that a blindfold wrapped itself neatly around the dummy’s eyes. "Is it getting easier?" he thought.

┗ ┛

Reducio
Mentioning: @Maisie Gemmell, @Edwin Westbridge

906 words.

Orion Lécuyer

Professor of Defence Against the Dark Arts, IV

1 163 279

31 Jan 2025, 22:38

@Saunders Napier
Your RP for 'Blindfolding Spell' for Prodigal DADA Learner has been accepted and you may now apply to add it to your trunk.

│
│

EN
CY

│
│

STA: 10 • EVA: 15 • STR: 5
WIS: 20 • ARC: 5 • ACC: 20

│
│

• Calming Presence • Perfectionist • Evasive Maneuvers I & II •
• Nonverbal Magic • Wandless Magic • Occlumency • Legilimency •

│
│

WINNIE:
FELIX:

│
│

Back Reply

┏		┓
	Oh God, how festively the time pelts when some delightful pursuit inveigles, and how callously it drags its feet when boredom, that most revolting of spectres, does creep nigh! Such was the twofold nature of time that had only just begun to unveil its well-hidden contours before Saunders' azure eyes. For in and around the lenten halls of Napier Manor, time always seemed to flow laggardly, its sands trickling through a sieve narrowed by some malefic hand. Especially so after the sacking of his Welsh nanny as the outcome of a dire alliance: the insouciance of his father, who always carried himself as if under the effect of an Imperius curse, and the obsessional temper of his mother, which seemed to have drunk deep of some bitter draught that turned her icy-cold heart against her son's gaiety. Today, at least within the confines of Saunders' personal realm, time had chosen to flow in the most halting gait. The hours were creaking by like the hinges of a long-ungreased door from Noah's ark dis- or misused for aeons, and the minutes marched forth in a tune that was far from melismatic. It was only then that the young Slytherin recalled a piece of advice his grandpa had once murmured (for wise words are always delivered in a murmur). "If, my dear lad," the old man had begun, his words as antediluvian as his wrinkled face, "you wish to avoid that grim angst we call ennui, you must endeavour to keep yourself occupied." This he had said while tinkering with one of the curious contraptions in his alchemy laboratory. "Never forget the fact that a lackadaisical man," he continued in that fatherly, warm tone, "is like a hound let off its leash, yet clueless as to what to do with its fortuitous manumission." At this memory, Saunders smirked wryly. “Huh,” he mused, “it seems every Napier is like a hen laying eggs of aphorism. But at least grandpa's sayings, unlike mother's, carry far less harsh.” And not only were they less harsh, but they were also of great use. Well, at least in this particular matter. For Saunders, blessed as he was, since his very first weeks at Hogwarts, had stumbled upon a passion to which he could devote himself with the utmost fervour: DADA. His heart, whenever he practised these spells, and especially those beyond his ken, leapt like a starling, not from fear, nay, but from pure elation. It was through this shared interest that he had crossed paths with Edwin, and the two had already begun practising together. Why, he had even managed to cast a solid Expelliarmus against his first duelling opponents! Studying these spells, Saunders felt, was like standing at the edge of the freshest of springs, cupping his hands in its crystalline water, but only to find himself thirstier with each sip anew. "Well, then," thought the young snake, "it is the time for a bit of practice, at least to make the hours fly swifter." And so, he set off upon a path so well-trodden that his feet and mind alike had long since committed it to memory, treading it with the familiarity of an oft-travelled road. This journey was much like that of a train, and finally, Saunders' eyes, reminiscent of the headlamps of a locomotive, fixed themselves upon the door of his destination. The question was: Which spell should he practice today? He ran through the list he and Edwin had compiled together. "The Tongue-Tying Spell, or the Blindfolding one, hmmm," he began to ponder. To make up his mind, the Napier boy first imagined Maisie with her tongue strictly tied and then pictured her stumbling blindly about. Both were, admittedly, quite enticing. Should her tongue be silenced, Saunders reasoned, it would deliver a blissful reprieve to his ears. That'd mean a Hogwarts free from her interrogations. How lovely that'd be! But if her eyes were blindfolded, that too promised amusement. She'd not be able to dart after him like an overzealous fawn, nor would she have the opportunity to accuse him of indifference to the threats posed by the devil creatures that might villainously plunder the castle, or, Merlin's mighty beard forbid, of failing to take note regarding a wart that might tragically appear on a friend's back. "The latter is more plausible," he concluded, a warped smile carving itself into the right side of his face. He took up his wand and positioned himself before a practice dummy. No, he had not brought Brian with him today. That boy, to put it kindly, and as much as Saunders hated to admit it, was a most ineffectual practice partner, and Saunders, though he was not intended to be particularly cruel, found even an inanimate object preferable to him. At least the dummies did not pose any threat to pepper a solid practice session with some ill-timed jokes. Then he made a gesture with his wand that looked like the letter P in his neat handwriting. First he tilted his wand 45 degrees to the right, then he drew a semicircle in the same plane, and finally, he flicked upwards, as if completing another symmetrical semicircle above its opposite on the left. "Obscuro!" he bellowed with all his might. A beam of light shot from the tip of his wand, and Saunders saw that a blindfold wrapped itself neatly around the dummy’s eyes. "Is it getting easier?" he thought.
┗		┛

A Year Ahead Prodigal