let's dance
Familiar faces peered down from the walls as Draven closed the massive doors behind him. They towered over him, made him feel small. Delicate. He'd always liked that about them. The meticulous paintings of witches and wizards brushed atop canvas, giving him a couple sleepy greetings.
The smell of varnish and candle wax bloomed in his lungs, a warm glow painting him in shades of orange and gold.
It was empty- of course it was. Many of the older students had left in hordes, their numbers dwindling with each year. And the younger kids...they didn't dare break curfew. Some still held onto the idea that there were actually consequences for their actions. Others would need a month or two before the castle stopped being intimidating.
Heavy, steel-toed boots fell atop the stone tiles. Draven made his way across the room, inclining his head respectfully as he passed along the witches and wizards watching. They could have turned him in at any point. Could have jumped from painting to painting until they found a patrolling prefect. Instead, they gave him notes.
'Hold your hand up more, ' and 'it's a flick, not a jerk,' and 'you're on fire. ' That last one was rather helpful. His attention often strayed, and although his clothes were fireproof, his skin most certainly wasn't. The last thing he needed was a slow, painful walk to the hospital wing. Thankfully, it was only one flight of stairs.
His wand had grown to be a part of him. He often found himself fidgeting with it, gesturing to things. His fingers were melded onto the wood, the thunderbird at its core clinging to its owner with remarkable tenacity. It was the last bit of his old life. His father's final present, custom-made and tailored to fit him.
And it hadn't failed him yet.
Picking a spot near his favorite duellist, a tall, raven-haired woman with kohl-rimmed eyes and a dark complexion, he dragged the mannequin before him. The mannequin cocked its head, getting into the standard duelling stance.
They'd dance, the two of them. The creature may have used a wheel to get around, but it was a lot more nimble than it looked. And it was grinning at him with a smug, metallic smirk.
Last edited by Draven Mirador on 2 Oct 2025, 19:54, edited 2 times in total.
ITS STILL RAINING. WHY IS IT STILL RAINING? sta • 13 | eva • 8 | str • 1 | wis • 15 |arc • 7 | acc • 9 |
let's dance
Was he lagging behind?
Percival always had the nasty habit of comparing himself to others too much, and now that insidious little voice at the back of his mind brought him doubts. Were others moving really fast, or was he just learning very slowly? Or was he just imagining things? The thoughts kept him up at night, forcing him to stare at the ceiling of the boys' dorm for hours on end. If only... there was a way to get ahead of the curve, even if just a little bit.
That's when an idea struck him.
Sure, he hadn't really learned any proper spells yet, and there was very little he could do in terms of magic, but he had his wand and he had his books. And at night, the castle was empty enough to sneak away somewhere quiet to get some extra practice in. He just needed to avoid getting caught because getting in trouble wasn't something he liked at all.
So, with an eager little grin on his lips, Percival tiptoed his way out of bed and out of the Slytherin common room. He had heard about the dueling club when he overheard some older students, and figured that was the place to go. So up the stairs he went, through the winding hallways and creepy corridors until he stood in front of its door, and gently pushed it open.
And much to his surprise, he realized that he wasn't alone.
Despite the risk he now felt, Percival snuck inside and did his best to keep quiet, as he watched the training unfold. The boy who was practicing inside was older than he was, and clearly much better with his wand. He moved around the mannequin like it was some complex dance, and he was leading it.
All passage of time was lost on Percival, as he simply kept watching and observing, hoping there would be something he could learn from all of this.
Percival always had the nasty habit of comparing himself to others too much, and now that insidious little voice at the back of his mind brought him doubts. Were others moving really fast, or was he just learning very slowly? Or was he just imagining things? The thoughts kept him up at night, forcing him to stare at the ceiling of the boys' dorm for hours on end. If only... there was a way to get ahead of the curve, even if just a little bit.
That's when an idea struck him.
Sure, he hadn't really learned any proper spells yet, and there was very little he could do in terms of magic, but he had his wand and he had his books. And at night, the castle was empty enough to sneak away somewhere quiet to get some extra practice in. He just needed to avoid getting caught because getting in trouble wasn't something he liked at all.
So, with an eager little grin on his lips, Percival tiptoed his way out of bed and out of the Slytherin common room. He had heard about the dueling club when he overheard some older students, and figured that was the place to go. So up the stairs he went, through the winding hallways and creepy corridors until he stood in front of its door, and gently pushed it open.
And much to his surprise, he realized that he wasn't alone.
Despite the risk he now felt, Percival snuck inside and did his best to keep quiet, as he watched the training unfold. The boy who was practicing inside was older than he was, and clearly much better with his wand. He moved around the mannequin like it was some complex dance, and he was leading it.
All passage of time was lost on Percival, as he simply kept watching and observing, hoping there would be something he could learn from all of this.
let's dance
The thing about duelling was - it required practice. And it was rather hard to practice casting when casting was illegal. He was rusty, having spent his summer whittling and making quilts rather than getting thrown into walls.
Draven jumped back just in time to avoid a swat from the mannequin. Unorthodox. It couldn't exactly fire back, so it resolved to bash his head in with brute force. He supposed it was fair enough- he would have felt rather bad if it only worked on the defensive. Still, he couldn't help the string of foul words that escaped him.
The mannequin didn't have a mother, per se, so he hoped it wasn't too offended.
Sliding backwards and just barely dodging another blow, Draven managed a choked 'tarantallegra'. Stopping as if it had been struck, the mannequin had just enough time to glare at him disapprovingly before its arms were forced forward into the macarena.
"Yeah, exactly," Draven wheezed, straightening up. The curse would wear off in a few seconds, but while his opponent was throwing it back, he took the chance to breathe.
And spot the tiny first-year huddled in the corner and watching him with eyes the size of teacups. Merlin. Perhaps he'd underestimated the kids. What were they at now, gen Beta? The quarantiners?
"You lost-?" he asked, momentarily tearing his eyes away from the fight. "It's past curf-", the dummy rushed him. "Oh, for Pete's sake." A well aimed flippendo sent the darn thing flying back. Following it across the room, Draven turned it off.
Last edited by Draven Mirador on 2 Oct 2025, 19:32, edited 1 time in total.
ITS STILL RAINING. WHY IS IT STILL RAINING? sta • 13 | eva • 8 | str • 1 | wis • 15 |arc • 7 | acc • 9 |
let's dance
Percival’s eyes grew wider as he watched Draven practice. He had never seen anybody this good at it before, so his heart pounded with excitement. Well, excitement and the fear of getting caught sneaking around the castle after curfew. He only needed to run into one teacher or one student with a loose tongue, and he was done for. But seeing one spell being cast after another in a practice duel with a mannequin... made it all worth it.
Until Draven finally spotted him.
His instincts told him to run, as Draven's eyes turned into his direction. Instead, he froze, then slowly pushed himself up from the wall he had been leaning against. The mannequin went flying backward with another spell, and Draven quickly followed to make sure he wouldn't be attacked again.
Then, he turned back to the kid.
Percival did his best to smile but it was sheepish at best, and he added a small shrug when the first question came. “I’m not lost,” he said. “Just… not sleeping.” His voice was a little timid, and his eyes nervously shifted toward the disabled mannequin for a moment, as if it'd save him from whatever this was going to be. “I uh, heard about the dueling club, and I thought maybe I could watch a little. Maybe even learn something that way.”
He then rubbed the back of his neck, his embarrassment pretty obvious. “I don’t really know much yet, but… I figured if I ever want to get better, this is where I should start.”
let's dance
The tiny boy seemed to shrink further into himself, eyes flitting from Draven to the machine beside him. Draven looked down. Banged up as it was, with burn marks and a missing eye, the dummy had taken a beating and a half - not all of it from yours truly, mind you. Most duelling club members didn't hold back - their opponents wouldn't.
"Well- guess we're both guilty of that." Draven said, kicking the manequin behind him as if to shield it from the first year's prying gaze.
The kid was strange. Wide-eyed, freckled, with a button nose and a cupid's bow, his eyebrows disappeared underneath a mop of brown hair, making him seem a little perplexed at all times. He held himself as if trying to take up as little space as possible, skinny frame disappearing underneath an oversized gray hoodie.
Draven's skin crawled, the uncomfortable realization of why the boy seemed so familiar dawning on him a few seconds later. It was like looking in a mirror- albeit a more saturated one. The kid reminded him of himself- himself the way he'd been maybe three years prior, timid and little awkward, unsure what to do with his arms or where to hide.
"Come here, then." he said, before he could think better of it. The words were out his mouth, with a confidence that surprised him. "I'll teach you." Gray eyes met blue, holding the first year's gaze steadily.
ITS STILL RAINING. WHY IS IT STILL RAINING? sta • 13 | eva • 8 | str • 1 | wis • 15 |arc • 7 | acc • 9 |
let's dance
Percival smiled awkwardly and watched as Draven kicked the mannequin aside. He wasn’t quite sure what to say or do, and it was hard to read the older boy’s expression. Was he annoyed? Maybe he was about to tell him off, or worse, report him for sneaking around after hours. The thought made Percival’s stomach twist. He really didn’t want to start his first year with detention.
But then Draven spoke again, and the words caught him completely off guard.
It took Percival a few seconds to process what he had just heard, but when it finally sank in, his eyes widened even more. “You’d really teach me?” he asked, clearly somewhat in disbelief, but also in pure excitement. It wasn’t every day that an older student offered to help, after all. And Draven really looked like he knew what he was doing.
An actual duellist was going to help him!
Percival smiled nervously and continued, “I’ve only learned a few spells,” he admitted, “But I really want to get better at them and learn how to use them in a duel or a real situation." Percival stepped a little closer, trying not to look too tense even though his heart was pounding. He glanced at the mannequin, then back at Draven. “What should I start with?” he asked, his voice steadier now.
It was hard to tell if he was still nervous or if excitement had fully taken over. But he hoped to at least make it very clear that he was eager to learn.
No matter how simple or small this lesson would be.
let's dance
"Your name," Draven snickered.
Dropping his wand in his boot, the older student untied his hair, running his hands through it a couple times. It was thick and unruly, black curls falling to about his shoulders in a cascading mane. "I'm Draven," he said, retying his hair. It had frizzed up during his dance around the mannequin, falling out of its bun. "Fourth year. This is my second year on the team."
The waitlist was ridiculous to say the least, and the team roster barely changed. It made sense- those who'd been on the team for a long time tended to stay until they graduated. Or they dropped out of school, whichever came first.
Fishing his wand back out, Draven frowned. He wasn't a professor, nor was he a good student. But he was a damn good caster. Spells hadn't failed him in a good long time, the raw power channeled by his wand coming out vicious, explosive at times. He was afraid the thunderbird wouldn't be able to take it one of these days, and splinter in his hand.
"My favorite spell," Draven said thoughtfully, "Is Incendio. But I doubt I can teach you both Incendio and Extinguo in one night. So-"
"Flagrate," he commanded, his wand moving in an elegant, fluid motion. Behind, a fiery red script took shape in the air. It was a strange check-mark of sorts, with the end curling up like a rat's tail.
"Here, just follow the outline with your wand." Draven moved his hand slowly, describing the checkmark in slow motion, ending with a careful loop. "Don't focus on anything else right now, just get the shape right. It needs to go down in your muscle memory."
ITS STILL RAINING. WHY IS IT STILL RAINING? sta • 13 | eva • 8 | str • 1 | wis • 15 |arc • 7 | acc • 9 |
let's dance
“I'm Percival,” he said quickly. He still wasn’t entirely sure how formal he was supposed to sound around older students, but Draven didn’t seem like the type who cared much about that. His attention lingered on the fiery symbol in the air instead... it shimmered and swayed slightly and drew his attention. “That’s… really cool,” he said with a little grin.
He tightened his grip on his wand, clearly excited to learn something. “We’re supposed to be learning Incendio soon, actually,” he said, glancing briefly at Draven before focusing again on the glowing mark. “Another student is organizing a class for it." But it didn't mention anything about Extinguo, so now Percival felt a little concerned.
A problem for another time.
He tilted his head slightly. “What does Flagrate do, exactly? I can see it makes text but when do we use that?”
While Draven hopefully explained, Percival raised his wand already. He followed the older boy’s demonstration as carefully as he could. First, a downward motion, then up to make that check mark, and then that little curl at the end. His first attempt was a bit clumsy, the motion a little too stiff. But the second time, his wrist loosened, and his hand seemed to remember the movement a lot better.
He repeated it again, slower this time, letting the pattern become muscle memory just like Draven had said. “Like this?” he asked, looking up for confirmation. There was no glow yet because he wasn't using the incantation, but even getting the motion right made his chest swell with pride.
“This feels pretty… natural,” he said after a moment. “I think I can get it.” He glanced back toward Draven, eyes bright like the excited child he was.
let's dance
"It just turns air into a chalkboard," Draven shrugged. The text was going to disappear as soon as his concentration dropped- mind you, it wasn't a hard spell to keep tabs on. "I use it when I can't sleep. Doodle in the air until I pass out." Taking an experimental swipe at the air, Draven sketched out a shaky-looking spider with a humongous top hat.
The spider bobbed in the air unsteadily, red light radiating in the otherwise murky room. Draven let the shape morph and fade a few seconds later, returning his gaze to the spell outline.
"Good-" He followed Percival's movements carefully, mirroring with his own wand. Despite the boy's anxiety, he was quick to pick up on the technique. "The incantation," Draven said, "Is Flipendo."
His handwriting was a lot less steady than the well polished wand movement. Shakey letters took form in the air, fiery sides melting into one another.
"Be careful how you pronounce it," Draven noted. "Stress the middle syllable."
He zeroed in on one of the dummies nearby- the same dummy, in fact, he'd tried to kick away. Carefully arranging the thing to face Percival but neglecting to turn it on, Draven returned by the boy's side.
"Flipendo," he demanded, and blue light sprang forth from his wand, slamming into the wall opposite the boys. Bits of debris rained down from where his spell had struck. He wasn't quite powerful enough to crack the wall, but he could feel the magic in his veins slowly working up to it. Each year, it was getting harder to channel, harder to control the output. He was like a conduit; he feared the day power would explode out of him and he'd be unable to manage it.
ITS STILL RAINING. WHY IS IT STILL RAINING? sta • 13 | eva • 8 | str • 1 | wis • 15 |arc • 7 | acc • 9 |
let's dance
Percival smirked as he watched the floating spider take shape, especially once it gained a top hat. “That’s brilliant,” he said, clearly impressed by Draven's spellwork. It wobbled in the air like it was alive, and for a moment, he just stared, “If I could do that, I’d never pay attention in class again.”
Then Draven started to explain the new spell, so Percival straightened up a little and held his wand at the ready. “Flipendo,” he repeated in an attempt to memorize the incantation. He even made sure to stress the middle syllable like Draven said, hoping he could avoid another spell incident.
When Draven demonstrated the spell a moment later, Percival jumped up a little. The flash of blue light flew across the room, followed by the echo of impact as the dummy crashed against the far wall. His eyes went wide. “Whoa,” he said, even more impressed than he already was, “That’s amazing.”
Then it was his turn to try, and he couldn't hide his excitement even if he tried. After taking a few steps forward, Percival raised his wand just as he had practiced earlier. He lined up the motion in his head again: down, up, then that little curl, and tried to steady his breathing to get it just right.
“Flipendo!”
The spark that burst from his wand wasn’t nearly as strong as Draven's. But it still hit the dummy square in the chest. Instead of flying backward, it just rocked slightly, but Percival couldn't believe his own eyes when he saw it.
He had done it!
He turned back to Draven with quite the grin on his face, “This spell is so cool!" He sounded weirdly energetic for how reserved he had been, but then again, he was finally learning some useful magic.
@Draven Mirador