A Complete and Utter Failure PV Cypresse Closed

@Cypresse Lian

Ivy wasn't going to tell her what exactly was 'up', that was for sure. No nightmares, no letters, no nothing. Although they were the cause for her setback, those events were completely different, and it wasn't like Professor Lian could help her about them anyway. But Ivy would admit that she need to catch up, or her grades were screwed. Not that she wasn't already screwed, but less screwed was what she was going for here... she needed to get it together, and if Professor Lian was the one who could help her do so, then so be it.

Another joke, another snicker. Ivy's stomach clenched, the feeling of being ridiculed rising again, but she fought the urge to yell and bit her tongue. What good would throwing another tantrum do? The Gryffindor kept her mouth shut, forcing herself to focus on the wand Professor Lian was twirling in her hands. Goodness, with all the fiddling she did with that wand, it was a wonder that she hadn't dropped it yet.

"Two years? Ivy looked up sharply, tone incredulous. How far behind can you fall? She sure hoped that it wouldn't take two years to get her grades back up. Was she being serious? "And I'm not dreaming about running away," she added spitefully. It was partly true - Ivy really did want to catch up - but honestly, if she wanted to leave, she would have done so already. "I'm here, aren't I?" Yeah, ok, so she was being rude when Professor Lian was so selflessly giving up her time to help. But if Professor Lian had really been through the same thing she was going through, then she would understand that underneath the bitterness, Ivy wanted help.

There was another slight pause. Ivy opened her mouth to say something. "I... Professor..." she trailed off, unsure of how to phrase her next words. "I want to catch up." There was nothing to be embarrassed for, she knew, but that didn't stop her cheeks from turning pink, her stomach from twisting unpleasantly. It was one thing to know something. It was another to believe it.

Ah, the straight T's on her report card - what a memory. Her first year she'd been distraught to get anything that wasn't an O. Her second year she could hardly believe herself if she managed to get a D - hard to do that when you almost never turned in assignments, didn't show up to class, and almost got expelled several times, anyway. What had she even been doing while skipping class? Cy could hardly believe that she'd spent that much time lying in bed and staring at the ceiling, her glare glassy and listless. That much wasted time didn't bode well with her today, but she had grasped for things to learn and tasks to finish until she'd pulled herself out of it, enough to keep her from slipping back in.

"It won't take you that long," Cy said gently, just in case she'd mistaken worry for shock. "You're nowhere near as behind as I was." And that was true. Maybe she wasn't certain exactly how long it would take to get Ivy back up to speed, it certainly wouldn't be two years. At the girl's reply, she shrugged. "Hey, you're the one who asked me if I really thought you wouldn't leave. Just making sure you really don't want to get out of here."

She'd gotten a yes. Good, she could work with that. A student who was behind was no issue. A student who wanted nothing to do with learning would be beyond her help, unless they miraculously managed to pull themselves back together. Dipping her head in acknowledgement and gratitude, Cy rose from her chair lightly, tapping the wall behind her with her wand to prompt a ripple of the darkened stone.

"Ceta?" she called, and a loud crack announced the House Elf's presence just outside of her office, a scuffle of feet indicating her much unnecessary but customary bow. She turned back toward Ivy as she cleared the blackboard of chalk.

"I know it's lunch, but you'll feel a lot better if we start now than if we leave off until some other time. Tell Ceta whatever you want, she'll fetch it from the Kitchens." Ceta was a godsend, honestly. Cy didn't appear in the Great Hall for meals much - the professors' table felt strange to her, and it was all too likely she'd crash into someone, as crowded and chaotic as mealtime tended to be - and she much preferred enjoying food in the comfort of her quarters or her classroom, especially since some students liked to wander into her classroom for peace and quiet after they'd finished eating or if they simply weren't hungry. She couldn't disappoint them, could she?

They'd have to wait today, though. She had teaching to do, and with a touchy student who wasn't in the calmest state at the moment, she feared that having other people in here, even if they were quiet, would put pressure on her. "Okay, where'd I start losing you? When did you start losing attention? I need to know where I should start."

@Cypresse Lian

Ivy was more than happy to skip lunch. She spent most of her time hanging out in the library during break times anyway, and if the elves were being particularly bossy, her dormitory. At this rate, she was going to become a Ravenclaw nerd stereotype. Ivy stared blankly at the house elf who had suddenly appeared out of nowhere, before shaking her head, her brain catching up to the words being said. Her outburst had left her feeling somewhat drained and tired, and she sagged in her seat, the momentary fire inside of her gone. "I'm, uh, ok. I ate earlier."

It wasn't a complete lie. Ivy had gotten herself kicked out of class for lobbing a half-eaten muffin at a Ravenclaw in the middle of a lecture first period. "But thank you," she added as an afterthought. She shifted uncomfortably in her seat, trying not to look at the elf. House elves were considered vermin among her family members, and although Ivy most certainly didn't agree with them, she had never really gone out of her way to be nice... it was more like she ignored their existence and did things herself - a habit that she was unable to stop even now at Hogwarts. The Gryffindor had a feeling that some of the elves working here disliked her, seeing as she was always denying their help and going off on her own.

Ivy turned her attention back onto Professor Lian, who had cleared the blackboard. "Um..." She bit her lip, trying to remember when the hag encounter had occurred. The exact date was a little hazy around the edges, seeing as the days that, but it was March something. Yes, that was right. Because March had been when the letters had stopped too... "M-March? I don't remember what we were learning, exactly..." Ivy tugged a hand through her dark brown hair, grimacing as she caught a few knots in her haste. Was Professor Lian planning on teaching her a month's worth of work in an hour? She was a fast learner, but that was ridiculous.

She chewed the inside of her cheek, wondering if she should take notes. There was plenty of unused parchment in her leather bag, although she doubted that it would be suitable for note taking, seeing as it was likely crumpled up and ripped... still, just in case, she dragged her bag along the desk towards her and tried to smooth out some of the wrinkles in the parchment. Ivy's grey eyes flickered to the doors again as she began to write out a title at the top, reminding herself that she was free to leave and she could walk out right now, and Professor Lian wouldn't be able to do anything about it. For a moment, she hesitated. It wasn't too late to leave. Perhaps if she left now...

Ivy snapped herself out of it by dotting the 'i' in 'Transfig' so aggressively it punctured a hole through the parchment. What the hell was wrong with her? Why was she still thinking about running away?

She looked up at Professor Lian, pushing away all thoughts of exiting, and prepared herself for a barrage of information. "Well, what did I miss?"

"Skipping meals is bad for you," she chided, but then again she couldn't really speak - she'd spent more than one day with a few grapes as lunch while she'd been in school, and while it definitely hadn't been healthy, she'd made good use of that time. While Evangeline and Aoi made sure to stuff her with food when she was home, it was very difficult to control her habits while she was miles away in an old castle in Scotland. A wave of her hand and a word of gratitude sent Ceta off to the Kitchens with the signature house elf's crack, and she settled in wait for her return.

"March... I think March we were doing Gamp's Law? Or did we start on Untransfiguration?" she muttered, pulling out a drawer and fumbling for a match - conmutocus, she was sure, had been around that time, but had it been before or after? "Did you learn match to needle yet? Or, well, do you have a good handle on it, even if you started learning it?" After all, she was pretty sure she remembered that Ivy hadn't just skipped all the classes - she'd been there, but seemed much more vacant than usual. But it was important that even if she knew the spell, she was casting safely... if she ever tried to practice outside of class at all.

Not that conmutocus had too much room for error, which was why it was one of the first spells they ever did, but... hey. It was a start. And small but potent explosions weren't too rare - matches were combustible, after all, and needles were sharp.

"Notes might be a good idea if you think your memory's not at its best right now," she advised at the crinkle of parchment. "But don't stress about getting everything down, because I'm going to try to speed you through this pretty fast, so you don't have to give up your lunch too many times. You've learned fast before, you can do it now, especially when I don't have to teach another twenty kids at the same time." Well, it was already well-known that Cy wasn't the kind of teacher to ease her students along at the pace of the lazy river at a water park - and if Ivy wanted to catch up before the end of the year, Cy needed to make sure she had enough foundation to move on with the rest of the curriculum, otherwise she'd only get more and more behind. "So - do you think you should go over conmutocus more, or do you think you have a good enough handle on it to go straight to Untransfiguration?"

@Cypresse Lian

"I'm not skipping meals," Ivy said stubbornly, folding her arms across her chest. Ok, fine, maybe she was. Just a little bit. It wasn't like it mattered, anyway. So what if she wasn't showing up to lunch every single day? She was still eating. "I had breakfast. And a muffin, too." (Well, technically, half a muffin but Professor Lian didn't need to know that.) Ivy couldn't help but flinch as the elf left the room with a loud crack, only just managing to stop herself from swearing out loud. Yelling an expletive certainly wouldn't help her situation, but she honestly didn't remember being this jumpy.

Now that she had calmed down, embarrassment was beginning to creep in as she thought of the way she had mouthed off to Professor Lian earlier. Why had she done that? Ivy had always spoken to her professors politely, her words selected carefully and her tone respectful. She had always managed to keep her firey, sarcastic side under control. What did Professor Lian think of her now? she wondered vaguely, watching the woman fumble for something in an open drawer. And of course, the question that was still somehow there, the question Ivy didn't have the courage to ask: why was she so willing to help?

She wasn't used to people helping her. To be fair, it wasn't like she ever asked for it, either... Ivy had always been independant. Unwilling to accept help, to admit she was wrong. It had just seemed right to do it without anyone else - it was so much more satisfying when you reached your goal, with the knowledge that you got their yourself, but there was only so much you could do on your own. "I paid attention for conmutocus, at the very least," said Ivy, with an injured sniff. Hadn't they had learnt conmutocus in the early months of the school year? Still, she couldn't be sure that she could cast the spell now...

If she was being completely honest, she was a little nervous of whatever Professor Lian was about to throw her way. The Transfiguration professor moved fast, and you had to work really, really hard to keep up with her. In the past, Ivy's mind had moved quickly - too quickly to have good handwriting - and she'd had no trouble keeping up with Professor Lian, least of all the other professors. But now... it was like a switch had turned off in her brain. She was sluggish and slow and switched off easily, the words coming in one ear and out the other, constantly caught in a hazey daydream. Even if she tried her best, was it even possible to get back to where she was?

"I... I think I know it?" she replied uncertainly. Ivy rubbed her forehead awkwardly, brows knitting together. God, it would be humiliating if she couldn't even cast conmutocus. "I - I mean, do you want me to try cast it now or something?"

Cy shrugged, fiddling with the match in her hands. "You know that people are supposed to eat three meals a day, right? And that one of those meals is lunch, so skipping lunch, even for a muffin, which doesn't count as a meal, still equals skipping?" She set her hand down on the table surface, palm up with the matchstick lying across her skin. A quick gesture, left-up-right-down-right, and the matchstick twitched, drawing upright and starting to somersault in the air.

"Okay, let me see..." she continued nonchalantly, not even bothering to call out the irony in her words as she usually would. Untransfiguration was definitely a unit that Ivy needed to know, but it might be just a little hard to learn Untransfiguration as an abstract concept without being able to actually transform something. After all, Untransfiguration was about undoing a transformation - you couldn't do that without understanding what you were undoing.

Another wave of her wand brought the match to a still, collapsing back against the tabletop with a quiet sound. "Give it a go," Cy invited, pushing the stick over to the other side of the desk with the butt of her wand. "It's probably pretty simple, but even if you end up doing it with no trouble, it's probably good review. We don't have to spend too much time on this, but Untransfiguration is easier with a refresher of what it feels like to transform something so that you can undo it. And if you end up not being able to do it, that's okay, too - picking up spells you learned before is always easier than learning another one. You'll be perfect at it in no time."

Match to needle - the first hurdle in Transfiguration. A month of theory with nothing else in sight, then a transformation was hitting you in the face. Most kids were excited for it, if a little intimidated at the thought of doing actual Transfiguration after a remarkably long time not doing anything, but it was easy to get frustrated. You started out with a weird-looking silver match, and then every few times you'd succeed. Getting one correct cast could be done in less than a day, but getting it right every single time - that could take weeks. And then there was branching out to manipulate the meaning of the spell itself. Conmutocus was match to needle. Nobody said what kind of needle! But being able to grab a spell and twist it to suit yourself - that took practice.

Her first years only had to get partway through that. As long as they could, on a good day, get a match to turn into a relatively straight needle, she counted it as a successful transformation. That was all the foundation that was needed to get to Untransfiguration, which was important to know before doing anything else. Other than that, though, the rest came with experience and practice. She needed to see whether Ivy's skills had rusted due to lack of usage or not. If they had, though, it wasn't too hard to get back on track. It was April, after all. Even sitting in a classroom without paying attention for a whole year helped just a little bit.