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26 Jun 2021, 11:22
Corporeal Patronus RP
REQUIREMENTS

You have to be a 6th Year student or above to apply for a Corporeal Patronus, or alternatively have the Prodigal DADA Learner ability in your trunk, in which case you can apply if you are a 5th Year Student.

To be able to summon a Corporeal Patronus, you have to have learned the "Patronus" spell and have it in your trunk. It can either be learned through homework (6th Year), the Prodigal DADA Learner ability (5th Year), or graduation to 7th Year. The ability to cast a Corporeal Patronus is acquired independently from the Patronus spell.

At this time, iNPCs cannot apply to learn this spell. This might be changed in the future, once we have a stable population of 5th Year students and can assess the scope of the moderation effort that handling these applications will put on the staff team.


ABOUT YOUR APPLICATION

Your Corporeal Patronus can either be an animal or a magical creature. If you choose an animal, be aware that your Patronus cannot be an extinct animal that has become extinct before the 20th century (1900s), nor can it be a rumored to be real animal (cryptozoology). In the case of magical creatures, your Patronus has to remain within the bounds of creatures that are known to exist in the magical universe of Harry Potter.

It is usual for a Patronus to take on the appearance of an animal commonly found in its caster's native lands. In contrast, it is uncommon, but not unheard of, for a person to produce a Patronus animal that they do not know of, or that is from a species that has become extinct. The rarest of Patroni are those that become magical creatures, such as phoenixes or unicorns.

Take this into account when writing your application. For example, having a phoenix for a Patronus is extremely unlikely, and you would have to reflect in your application why exactly this magical creature and no other fits your character.

XXXXX-creatures are exempt from becoming Patroni due to multiple factors, including their rarity, danger level, and size, that would create additional effort in the moderation of their use.

Our moderators may tell you to edit or re-write your application, or (temporarily) deny it if it does not conform to the rules outlined here or the general rules that apply to our site.

BEFORE YOU APPLY

Please read the details of our Patronus lore, that can be found here.

APPLICATION FORM
School Year:
Link to your encyclopedia thread:
Patronus you are applying for:
You need to name the animal you are applying for, also give its species if possible. Please be specific! For example, if you want your Patronus to be a giraffe, tell us which one (there are 8 subspecies of giraffes). A Great Dane is a dog, but so is a Beagle, so tell us which animal exactly your Patronus is.
Describe why this fits your character:
500 words (up to a maximum of 2K words) of your character learning the Patronus spell/casting their first corporeal Patronus, please include a word count. This can be completed in-character first or second person or from a third-person perspective. Your application cannot be out of character (OOC).

QUESTIONS?
If you have any questions please owl Opeila Winters or Dusana Sabo.

Approving your application can take between a few days and up to 2 weeks depending on how busy our moderators are. If you have been waiting longer than 2 weeks, please contact one of the staff members mentioned above.

This is the "Game Master" account. Please do not owl this account, unless specified. This account is not moderated actively and therefore, you may not receive a response.

Contact a Head of House or the Headmaster if you need anything.

3 Jul 2021, 13:04
Corporeal Patronus RP
School Year: Graduated centuries ago
Link to your encyclopedia thread: There it is
Patronus you are applying for: Phoenix Chicken

Describe why this fits your character:
Reducio
Patronus RP:
Béatrice hadn't cast a spell in years, maybe even decades. She had no need to, and her experience with conventional magic had been ... not so fruitful. Her passion had been signs and ancient cultures, for which magical spells simply weren't needed. Her wand had been tucked away in her walking stick and she doubted, that she would get the thing free even if she wanted to.

So all Béatrice could do was frown with a humoured smile at the young Head of Gryffindor, when they had a conversation about the old experiences they shared with both being from Durmstrang.
Elaine was the complete opposite to Béatrice. She was a masterful witch, a well-versed caster and deeply connected to spellcraft. Béatrice on the other hand was more than content with the old and traditional ways.

Though, she had to admit that it hurt her pride when the Defense Against Dark Arts teacher wanted to know about Béatrice's Patronus. It was only natural for Elaine to ask since there was no greater protection against dark forces than the Patronus. Béatrice had laughed and said, that she never learnt that one, which was true. During her stay at Durmstrang, the Patronus was never taught and she surely never studied the spell on her own. She had better things to do.

Either because Elaine was a teacher or because she felt pity, Béatrice could not say, she had offered her to teach the spell to the runemaster. Béatrice had laughed at the young woman who thought that she could teach an old dog new tricks, but secretly Béatrice simply didn't want to humiliate h herself. The Ancient studies teacher was a master with runes and other signs, she was able to read most of the old scripts and she knew about forgotten cultures, but spellcraft was not her strong side.

Still, the Gryffindor Head was adamant, a virtue that Béatrice honoured.

During the first weeks at Hogwarts, Elaine would show up in Béatrice's office and tell her about the Patronus spell. What she had to do, what she had to focus on and even more. Béatrice listened patiently, but she rather enjoyed the company than trying to actually learn something. Béatrice knew that Elaine's attempts would eventually be in vain.

And they were.

As Béatrice had thought, she could not produce more than a little bit of white mist. It had been a miracle on its own that she could get her wand out of the top of the walking stick after several attempts.

Elaine had told her to practice and since then, she had not approached Béatrice regarding Patroni again.

Béatrice had felt hurt, and humiliated, just as she had predicted. Even worse, during her time at Hogwarts, she saw children casting their own Patronus with ease. That had been the moment, Béatrice decided to master the spell.

It would take her almost 2 years. She practised on her own in her office. Not regularly, but at least once a week. She tried to regain the feeling of her wand in her hand and how to actually use the damn thing. Before she attempted the Patronus, she tried easy spells, just for training purposes. And Merlin, she needed it.

When she even failed a Lumos she knew, that her aversion for spellcraft run deep.

Little by little, she got better. Her wand as well as her own magic seemed to wake up from a deep slumber, and although she surely could not light up a room as big as the Great Hall, she managed just right.

The Patronus would take time, and try after try there was nothing more than fume. Still, Béatrice had the – maybe wishful – thinking, that the fume became thicker over time.

At some point, she realised, that her happy memory Elaine told her to cling onto, might not be happy enough. She had been thinking about her son and his birth, which should be the happiest memory a mother can have, right? She wanted it to be her happiest memory, so at first, she continued to cling onto it, refusing to accept that her son was not her happiest memory.

After practise, while she sat down with Einar crawling over her shoulder and a tea in front of her. She had to think about her true happiest moment. A task, that wasn't easy. Béatrice was old, she had lived a long life and naturally, her mind was full of memories, which came more and more obscure the older they got. She had been happy here at Hogwarts, she had been happy during her time in France, she had been happy in Egypt, all for various reasons be it for love, discovery or simply out of the pure joy of being there.

Suddenly an old memory came to mind. A moment that happened almost 100 years ago. Béatrice had just graduated from school. She had been young and full of dreams, but she had felt lost. She didn't know what to do with her life and her expertise when she walked through a small village in Siberia.

As always, she felt like an intruder and outsider with a language barrier. But the people had welcomed her, they had been happy to have her there and provided her with rations. Béatrice had decided to stay for a while and even though she could not speak their language, she felt at home. One day a man was injured during the hunt. Béatrice didn't think about it, she just dashed out to help. She cured him with a mixture of magic and herbs. The smile and gratitude of a small girl, which she believed to be the man's daughter, had made her realise that this is what she wanted to do: help people.

The old Béatrice sitting in her office once again reached for her wand, clinging to the smile of the little girl, whose name she never knew. She cast the spell and a thick cloud shot out of the tip of her wand.

The ball slowly started to shape itself, with two wings growing out, claws forming at the bottom and docents of long feathers sprouting as a tail. The Patronus itself was big, the wings were small in comparison to the long tail, making the Patronus an intimidating sight.

Against all odds, Béatrice had produced a corporeal Patronus, and it was a phoenix. She immediately recognized it as a mythical creature, although some might say it's a giant chicken.


WHY a phoenix:
Would Béatrice had been 50 years younger, she most likely would have produced a small animal, skittish and with the reflex to run away. Her bet would have been on something like a bunny or a chipmunk.

But this was the Patronus of an older Béatrice, who has lived a life full of hardship and difficulties she had refused to give into. She is patient and has learnt that you always have to step up again.

Béatrice also refuses to acknowledge the inevitable end. Being as old as she is, she knows that death could come every minute, but she is very good in just ignoring it. Maybe death even was at her doorstep once, but she is the kind of person, who just refuses to open said door.

In secret, she hopes that even IF her time comes, although she is adamant on becoming at least 200 years old, that this would not be the end. Her whole life had been about helping others, it's what eventually made her form a corporeal Patronus. Death is in her way to continue on the path of helping others, so she hopes that even if she dies, there is a way to come back and start anew.

Her believes manifested in a phoenix type of animal, but what Béatrice considers to be a phoenix.

Coming from Iceland, she has roots in Norse mythology. A phoenix is a Greek mythical bird, connected to death and rebirth. In Norse culture, this is a special rooster, that is very similar to the classic phoenix, called Víðópnir (Vidofnir). So ye, it is a phoenix, but Béatrice as Scandinavian and coming from her mind, the phoenix would take the form of the Norse phoenix and resemble a rooster. which in looks comes near to the Phoenix Chicken.


WC: 1380

STATUS: Approved

Skelfr Yggdrasils askr standandi
ymr it aldna tré, en jötunn losnar

7 Jul 2021, 23:43
Corporeal Patronus RP
School Year: Teacher, so graduated ages ago
Link to your encyclopedia thread: [x]
Patronus you are applying for: Lioness (Panthera leo leo)
Describe why this fits your character:
Reducio
In all honesty, Zahid had not been particularly interested in learning this spell unlike some people. It could be a very useful spell if with a very specific use, sure, but he was not as anxious to learn the spell as others. At the time he did not know Messenger Patroni were a thing, so for all he knew the two others he was taught along side, only wanted to learn the spell because it was – to quote the last group being taught before theirs – shiny. After all, it was unlikely that they would ever come across a creature they need the spell to defend them from. He was not about to deny the opportunity to learn a new spell however.

Maybe it was because he was less invested at the time or because he found the equivalent to “think happy thoughts” to be vastly unhelpful – concentrating on a memory instead of the incantation's pronunciation felt alien to him, after all that was not what had been drilled into his head for years – but during his schooling he never managed more than a vague four-legged shape.

It was only a couple of years later when he went back to attempt the spell again because it began to irk him that there was a spell that he had only half-learned; that his Patronus took as distinct a shape as the other two's jerboa and hippopotamus (respectively) had been.

In the end his first success was not because he was thinking about any particular happy memory but because he had been elated to have graduated from university and with a position lined up no less! It left him with a sense of achievement and he almost felt giddy that evening.

On the other hand, that made the success less easy to replicate. He now knew he could cast a corporeal Patronus, he just had to figure out the how properly. It took him another two weeks of trial and error before he managed a clearly-shaped Patronus again and not the mist.

The memory he landed on was definitely a happy one but if asked, Zahid would have described the feeling he associated with it more as 'utter contentment' rather than 'happiness'. It was a quiet memory. On the surface, it might even seem like nothing special. He had talked to his cousin on the phone earlier that day (and boy, Ammar did not get less rambly as he got older), and after catching each other up on news as they did regularly but rarely, they had reminisced about their family.

It brought to mind one of the rare evenings in his childhood when the whole family, his aunt and cousins, his uncle and even his father had found an free evening (that was not any sort of holiday or other special occasion) they could spent with family. Aqil had even visiting from university. After dinner they had all congregated in the same room. While some conversation flowed, they did not speak much and enjoyed the quiet together.

Zahid had read a new book Aqil was loaning him, his father and uncle were silently playing chess, his aunt was knitting, Aqil had fallen asleep next to Zahid, and Ayishah and Ammar were writing on a piece of paper together – planning a prank, most likely. On the surface, it may seem like nothing special. But Zahid being a bit of an involuntary loner and more importantly a bookworm that adored being able to read in peace especially since his family was a tad chaotic, utterly loved these quiet moments with his family, rare as they were.

The shape itself both surprised him and not. While he had not spent overly long on wondering what animal shape his Patronus would take, a lioness had not been on his list. Seeing his Patronus take that shape though... It was obvious. What else could it have been? Of course his Patronus was a feline. Of course said feline was a lioness. Or a lion, in any case. Zahid had always been a cat person and was a lion not the ultimate cat? It was also fitting that a lion(ess) symbolized protection among other things. And the charm was for protection. More importantly though, he associated them with family due to their living together in prides. They were the only cats to do so, so it made sense to him on multiple levels:

When he was little, cats (or rather cuddling an animal) made him feel safe, so symbolism aside he subconsciously believed that they could keep him safe. (Rationally, that was rather ridiculous considering that normal cats were tiny compared to humans.) And he had thought of family when casting the spell, so it only followed that he would not end up with any random type of cat but this particular one. Additionally, while lions may not roam in those parts of Africa (or Libya specifically) any more and had not since before he was born, they were native to the area. It was also a connection to his home that would stay with him even as he later left Libya behind to travel.

Yes, now that he had his (corporeal) Patronus in front of him, it felt like it should just have been a foregone conclusion. It felt right.
WC: 888
STATUS: Approved

♦ Until the lion has his or her own storyteller, the hunter will always have the best part of the story ♦

8 Jul 2021, 13:35
Corporeal Patronus RP
School Year: Graduate
Link to your encyclopedia thread: here
Patronus you are applying for: Thestral
Describe why this fits your character:
Reducio

“Expecto Patronum!”

Elena had taught the spell to countless students since she’d started her tenure as Dark Arts Professor at Durmstrang. To teach the Dark Arts always meant teaching defense as well for the simple reason that if one didn’t know how to resist its temptations, dark magic would eventually consume its user whole, would corrupt their mind and body, would eat away at them until the only thing that remained was a pallid shell of their former self.

She’d known since her teenage years, young and eager and oh so talented, drawn to the Dark Arts like a moth to the flame, greedy for it and willing to burn for the knowledge she was seeking.

It had frightened her parents, her passion, her natural talent, the way it came easy to her like magic had never come to her father, like curses and cruel words had never come to her mother. One quarter muggle heritage had saved her from the worst of it, the all-to-obvious instability of the mind, the taste for brutality that often came with powerful magic. Three-quarter pure-blood meant that she had the taste for it, though, a hunger for magic, for knowledge, for strength, to bend the world to her will, that simmered just beneath the surface.

“Expecto Patronum!”

Years of teaching the spell meant that she knew intimately well what was needed to conjure a corporeal Patronus. Still, she had never been able to produce one. A four-legged swirl of white mist, that was the best she had ever done, at fourteen or fifteen, when she’d been more child than witch still.

A Patronus was a guarding, a protector, a shield between the innocent and the dark.

Elena hadn’t been innocent for a long time.

To conjure a Patronus one needed to fear the Dark Arts, to look the abyss in the eye and be terrified of it, to see the cruelty and suffering that lurked in the dark and recoil from it. It was an ability she’d lost decades ago, too entangled in dark magic to remain frightful of it, too used to the allure of giving in to the urge, to cause pain, to lash out, to destroy, to be able to remain walking on the thin edge that separated the one side from the other.

At her core, Elena was a lost cause, as one of her old professors had told her at graduation, his deep brown eyes pained, sad, for he’d believed it, that he’d lost her like there had been a fight at all, like studying the Dark Arts had somehow made her less of a person.

“Expecto Patronum!” she yelled again, voice shrill in the approaching darkness of the late sunset.

A faint, silvery-white fog rose from the tip of her wand and fizzled out almost immediately.

“Mamă.”

Gabriela was clinging to her, whimpering, her small hands fisted in the fabric of her dress robes, face pressed against her chest, the light body shaking in her arms.

She was only ten. She didn’t know what a Dementor was.

Elena had never seen one before today either.

The Wardens of Azkaban had been just that for centuries, non-beings tied to an island in the middle of the sea, far removed from any living settlement, monsters, creatures of nightmares, featuring in horror stories their parents told magical children to behave.

Even when she’d still lived on the British Isles, there’d never been any reason to make the trip to Azkaban.

They hadn’t had close family in prison. A few cousins of her father’s, once or twice removed, had been sentenced after the first war, another batch after the second, most from the English branch of the Burke family, but you couldn’t honestly claim pure-blood descent in Great Britain and have no relative in Azkaban, not after the wars, not with how inbreed they were as a society.

Nobody had known what had happened to the Dementors after they’d cleaned Azkaban. They’d been gone, but the Ministry had never given an explanation to the how, what had happened to them, where they had gone.

Non-beings couldn’t be killed. They had never lived in the first place.

Katya had been furious that she’d never managed to even find a hint of where the Dementors had disappeared to.

Now Elena knew.

“Expecto Patronum!”

Gabriela was crying, sobs that shook her whole body, hot tears staining the front of Elena’s robes, desperation hitting the mother like a fist to the gut when she looked at her daughter.

She’d felt them. The moment the first one had approached them, she’d known what it was.

A buzz at the back of her mind, a feeling that she couldn’t describe, something that was at the same time entirely alien, a presence that was as far removed from humanity as possible while still holding sentience, as it was familiar, dark magic distilled to its purest form, devoid of emotion or conscience, unsullied by the duality that marked a wizard’s existence, the fight between mind and nature.

How many they were, Elena couldn’t tell. It didn’t make a difference, really.

They recognized her, the same way she recognized them probably. She wasn’t their prey. To feed of her wouldn’t still their hunger, not completely, not when she had submitted to the call of the Dark Arts long ago and there was a pure, innocent child in her arms.

Gabriela had wanted to watch the sunset from the cliffs.

“Expecto Patronum!”

This time the mist didn’t even last a second.

Dementors fed on the happiest of memories, those that one needed to call forth a Patronus, those that Elena didn’t have, had chosen to abandon, but that Gabriela had in abundance.

Elena Văduva was not afraid of the dark. Maybe she had never been.

She was terrified at the thought of losing her daughter.

It was a powerful emotion, fear. She was intimately acquainted with it, with despair, desperation, with watching who you loved most in the world being taken from you, doomed to be a mere bystander, powerless to protect them, all that strength useless in the moment it mattered the most.

Alexandru, the moment his confident smirk had turned to astonishment when Valeriu Drăghici had run his sword through his chest, the silver metal gleaming in the lamplight, the blood pooling on the floor.

That was the one memory she couldn’t keep buried, the single thread that kept pulling all the other memories of him to the surface along with it, had tainted them one after another until she’d chosen to forsake them all rather than carry them with her every minute, every hour of the day, every waking moment of her life – living without Alecu was pain, a loss like a physical wound that would never heal. Living without him but with the memories of their time together was hell.

Gabriela was wailing in her arms, gripped by terror, no longer able to articulate the pain she was suffering, all fight sucked out of by the approaching form of the Dementor.

There was only fear left.

Elena was terrified of the memories she had sealed herself off from, the agony that was thinking about Alexandru’s cocky grin when he’d dared her to duell him, the gleam in his eyes when he provoked her, the self-assured way he’d handled both his wand and his swords…

She knew that every time she remembered him, she’d also see this, his last moment, the way he’d looked at her when he’d died.

Now, she understood that there was one thing she was even more afraid of, however.

The Dementor sucking Gabriela’s soul out of her body.

It was a fickle thing, the human mind. Prone to lapses, unreliable at times, jumping from one thought to another without any clear command or reason. Elena had learned early that hers was different than those of others, a touch of order where in those around her chaos was all too predominant. She had control, had honed it, trained it, put herself to the task of separating thoughts from one and another, to move them to the front of her mind if she so desired, to push them back if she had no use for them, to lock them away, to trick herself into believing that some memories weren’t there even though deep down she knew the lie for what it was.

In truth, it was easy to pull them forth, the memories of her husband, because she had loved him, still loved him, missed him, had cherished their time together, every second of it.

He’d been so handsome in Bârsana, that devilish smile on his face, wearing his best dress robes, dark grey etched with silver thread, his hair slicked back and bound at the neck, as if that would do anything to make him more presentable, less dangerous, as if it could in any way hide what he was, the creature lurking under his skin.

When he’d died he’d looked almost the same. Black robes, they’d hidden most of the blood. Hair pulled back, but half of it coming loose of the tight bun. He’d had the same look in his eyes.

She had always admired that about him, his bravery, the foolish idiocy that was running into a battle headfirst with no care for his own safety.

Romanian had suited him so much better than Russian, it had flattered is voice, the vowels thick and heavy on his tongue, the way he strung the words together seamlessly, almost like a song.

They’d said the wedding vows in his mother tongue.

Her shades had been inked into her skin already, Mikhail’s wedding gift, the blood oath spoken the night before, and she’d been so pleased at how he’d relished in seeing them on her skin, how the corners of his mouth had curled in a vicious smirk when he’d watched the guests stare at her, the fear the tattoos had put in their eyes.

Fearsome they’d been that day, the both of them. Fearsome and gorgeous, ready to see the world burn at their hands and madly, head over heels in love with each other.

They’d been all of that until Valeriu Drăghici had ended it with one stab of his word, had used Alexandru’s foolish arrogance against him, had seen the wide opening her husband had left, distracted as he was by the carnage around them, and had capitalized on it.

Yes,” Alecu had vowed on that day in Bârsana.

He’d been her world, then, and maybe it had been wrong, to love him like that, but she couldn’t ever be sorry about it, not when she would forever remember the pure adoration in his dark brown eyes when he’s said the word.

He’d promised himself to her, all of him. Until death do us apart. And it had.

“Expecto Patronum.”

There was a screech, louder than the blood beating in her ears like the sound of drums, louder than Gabriela’s screams and the sound of the waves crashing against the cliffs below them.

On her skin the half-eagle was crying, and from the tip of her wand burst a white shade.

Its form was skeletal, skin draped over bare bones and sinews without an ounce of flesh, a gaunt, haggard creature that looked like the walking dead, it’s head large and draconic, the eye sockets sunken in without any visible pupils. Leathery wings beat heavily, strong despite its frail frame, as the Thestral soared towards the Dementor, descending upon it with its beak and talon-like hooves.

Ill omens, misfortune, death, her mind supplied while she watched the silver creature attack, furiously pushing the Dementors back, a blur of wings and talons of mist that were more effective against the spirit than any curse she could have cast.

The oppressive presence at the back of her mind eased at once, however many more Dementors were there flinching away from the wrath of the Patronus.

With wide, dark eyes, Elena watched as the silvery guardian spread its gigantic wings and drove the creatures back to wherever they had come from, circling around mother and daughter in the air, putting itself between them and the former wardens of Azkaban.

Her fingers were clenched tight around her wand, and she clutched Gabriela closer with the other arm around her back, hand running up and down her side soothingly.

“Shush, darling, there’s nothing to fear,” she whispered, the tremor in her voice belying the words.

Gabriela only latched onto her tighter. “Mamă.”

The Thestral turned its head at hearing her speak, cocking its head in a gesture that was… concerned, almost tender, and plodded towards them after on last huff in the direction it had chased the Dementors to.

It was beautiful. Truly. A silvery fog that radiated in the near-darkness that had settled over the landscape when the sun had set beyond the horizon. There was something soothing about it, the unseeing hollows of its eyes, the way it craned its neck to look at her, the sharp beak stopping just an inch from her cheek.

Elena stared back, transfixed, exhausted, her limbs heavy, mind a mess of thoughts and memories, Alexandru in all the ways she had known him.

She hadn’t realized how much she’d truly missed him, even the memories of him.

Slowly, the Thestral Patronus folded its wings and took a step back, hooves pawing at the ground as it moved, and leaned down to where her left hand was lying on Gabriela’s back.

Gingerly, it touched the tip of its beak to the wedding band on her ring finger.

Her right hand relaxed around the cherry wand.

“Thank you.”

It was hard to talk around the tears. Elena hugged her daughter closer and gave the creature a watery smile, one that her husband would have mocked her for endlessly.

The Patronus dissipated in a silvery cloud of fog.


WC: 2,317 words
STATUS: Approved

Cu ochii deschiși.

9 Jul 2021, 16:11
Corporeal Patronus RP
[quote]School Year: Durmstrang graduate, babey
Link to your encyclopedia thread: Ta daa
Patronus you are applying for: Peregrine falcon (Falco peregrinus)
Describe why this fits your character:
Reducio


Falco peregrinus
In the Durmstrang library, a book could be heard slamming shut, in chorus with the frustrated sigh of a young, school-aged Colette. She had lost count of the different tomes she’d taken out of the shelves, now stacked high and strewn across the table, and yet she was still no where close to finding the answers she needed.

Yesterday, Professor Pendrast had decided to tackle the Patronus charm. Colette didn’t entirely understand why they had to learn it when Leithfolds and Dementors were uncommon, but she decided that if Professor Pendrast decided they needed to learn it, then it was probably important. If it had been any other Professor, she probably would have made a nuisance, but it was Elaine Pendrast.

And that meant Bobbie would shut up and listen to as much detail and try to absorb as much information as she could, preparing herself for the demo portion of the class.

Elaine was sort of her hero (if Colette actually believed in those). In her eyes, Elaine was this strong, badass lady who had this vast amount of knowledge, not subject to the constraints of high wizarding society. It was quite possible that part of the reason the subject came easier to her was that she enjoyed listening to her teacher. In other classes she was a tad flighty, sometimes absent, and usually causing a fuss, but not in Dark Arts, and never in the presence of Professor Pendrast. Perhaps she did have a propensity for the subject, but it was not necessarily something she wanted to delve deeply into. But regardless, spells and homework was not as troublesome for this class as the others were to Colette, so she could only imagined what she looked like when she tried the spell, only managing to produce the smallest sliver of mist.

In the anger-filled days of her youth, Bobbie often struggled to find happy memories in her head. Her emotions were like a constant brewing tempest, eventually just fully manifesting and leaving a path of destruction in its wake. During that time, it was storm season.

No, there were not many happy thoughts in Bobby’s head back then. But she did not understand that. She did not understand it with every frustrated attempt at making the spell. She did not understand it when she tackled a boy who made fun of her for not getting the spell. She especially did not understand it when she had to clean the goals posts of the Quidditch Pitch with a practice broom and a toothbrush.

Even now in her current predicament in the library, she was left utterly baffled as to why she couldn’t conjure up a Patronus. She scoured every tome looking for everything on Patroni she could find, thinking that maybe something there could help her. But alas, the afternoon had slipped by and she’d come up with nothing. Everything said similar things, which she already knew. It was simple. Incantation, plus happy memory, equals Patronus. But why couldn’t she get it?

In a moment of desperation, scoured for the notes she made in class. They were messy – full of doodles, and random scribbles. (Apparently, not even Elaine could hold her full attention for a class period). However, she did manage to take some cohesive notes. There was some information on the spell, dementors and leithfolds, and… yes! How the spell is done. She wrote down the incantation, but something else she apparently also wrote down was ‘HAPPIEST MEMORY’ next to it, bolded and underlined.

If it was magically or physically possible for Colette to kick herself, she probably would have.

After feeling around, she produced her wand out from in between the pages of a book, (they make for effective bookmarks apparently) and the poised it in front of her. The library had been fairly empty at the hour, and she was in a probably secluded enough area as to not get into trouble. She tapped the tip twice on the table (to wake up the magic), and with a deep breath, she closed her eyes and began to look into a memory.

It was one of the simplest, and worn memories in her mind, but it was her most cherished.

In her mind’s eye, she was by the pond outside their manor. She could smell the grass and the occasional floral scent from the wildflowers that grew, and her mother’s perfume. She was only about 6 or 7 by then, her siblings still floating in the void somewhere. It was during the middle of spring, and her father and mother brought her out for a picnic. She could see them laugh, and joke, her mother looking her age. Her father chased her about, and they climbed trees, and stayed outside ‘til the sun set.

As she could see herself in her mind hold her father’s hand as they went home, she whispered the incantation of the spell.

The spell’s characteristic blueish light glowed from her wand, and a silver mist seemed to erupt from the tip, eventually taking the shape of a Peregrine falcon. The bird flew and circled above head before landing near an astonished Colette. Her mouth hung open in surprise, complementing her tear-streaked face. She’d done it!

Soon the falcon faded, and with a sense of accomplishment, Colette stacked her books, put away her now tear-stained notes, and made her way to her Common Room to pilfer some chocolate from another student.

RP WC: 910

WHY THIS FITS YOUR CHARACTER:
Colette’s father has always described her as “untamable like the sea” and for a good portion of Colette’s life, she had always felt the need to find her freedom. She envied birds and their ability to go anywhere they wanted, and often likened herself to a bird stuck in a gilded cage.

Peregrines were birds she’d seen a lot, whether it was at the muggle zoo in Cotswolds, or almost anywhere really, as they are rather common. It’s name means “wandering falcon” and like her Patronus Colette was indeed a wanderer. In the younger years of her youth, perhaps she was more lost than wandering, but as she grew and learned more of herself she still always had the spirit of wanting to go places and seek new adventures. They also held a lot of power, something that Colette did not want an abundance of, but wanted only that which was her own – the power to decide her own life, and the power to stand up for herself.


STATUS: Approved

"Books were safer than people anyway.” - N. Gaiman
Parselmouth| Sta: 15| Evas: 12 |Str: 7 |Wis: 12 | Arc Power: 6 | Acc: 13

16 Jul 2021, 18:05
Corporeal Patronus RP
School Year: Uagadou Graduate
Link to your encyclopedia thread: viewtopic.php?f=169&t=838
Patronus you are applying for: Caracal
Describe why this fits your character:
Reducio

It was not a spell that was regularly taught in her years of schooling, however, it was one that she was told to master by her long-time friend and mentor, Professor Barcuh Schine. She never thought it important to learn as she never had a reason for it after she graduated from Uagadou. Maya, once graduated, went straight into the Israeli Defense Force (IDF) where she was in the front lines during the Lebanon War. She witnessed darkness, but rather, the type of darkness witnessed by muggles.

When she ended her service, she wanted to travel the world and learn different cultures. Her late mentor echoed in her mind that she needed to master the patrons (amongst other spells that she was never taught). She figured that before her travels, Maya would learn the Patronus Charm to ensure that while she could defend herself muggle-style, she needed to defend herself magically against dark creatures and the like.

There was more than just the incantation and focusing. According to Professor Schine, she had to think of a happy moment in time. A memory that she felt the best about herself and those around her. It was beyond difficult as her childhood in her homeland was always filled with disappointment. She had siblings to take care of and yearned for her parents' approval. School, however, was always very competitive no matter what. She had a best friend, but it wasn't something that made her soul happy. It was just something that helped her get through.

It hit Maya. Her source of happiness that opened a door into a new world and reminded her of who she is was Professor Schine. Maya began to think about the one instance that she was taught different cultures and how closely Schine understood her ambition of wanting to learn more. They were learning about Scandinavian culture and he said a joke that only made her laugh harder and harder. Maya, saying the incantation and remembering the pure memory of laughter and learning from a man who helped her see life in a positive light, focused.

With much practice, a patronus became clear. Her animal was the Middle Eastern Caracal. It was a type of cat that shared similar features to the Lynx, who is found in the deserts of the Middle East, India and Africa. The animal had small paws, leaving small footprints and had a two very distinguishing features: two black lines on their forehead and black and beige tuft ears.

How Maya related to this animal was in many ways. Aside from it being a muggle animal, Maya learned the ways of sneak during her IDF training. Her connection of not leaving a trace of her when in war was very similar with the small footprints of the animal. In addition, Maya has a signature look of her own: crimson red cloak and dark red lips to match. Even more so, Maya was one to observe prior to jumping into action and most cats, especially Caracal's, are observers who look at their environment before jumping right in.

Typically, Maya was unaware of what qualities of a Caracal she connected to as she was more focused on everything around her. Not needing the Patronus, she observed different cultures around the world, which includes Japan, China, India, America, Brazil and more. Her latest (and hopefully not her last) stop was in the United Kingdom, in England and Scotland where she spends her time in Hogwarts as a Professor. Little did she know that the Patronus Charm was to be used often in the area with darkness right around the corner.

WC: 604

STATUS: Approved

Stamina: 11 || Evasion: 7 || Strength: 7 || Wisdom: 20 || ArcPower: 15 || Accuracy: 10

20 Jul 2021, 11:51
Corporeal Patronus RP
School Year: 5th Year (Prodigal DADA)
Link to your encyclopedia thread: viewtopic.php?f=169&t=2727
Patronus you are applying for: Hippogriff
Describe why this fits your character:
Reducio

Oliver stood firmly in his attic, feet spread and now standing at a much taller height of 6'2". He was a late bloomer but his parents were both tall and so it was unlikely Oliver would be trapped in his 5' form forever. As if someone had taken the transform tool and stretched Oliver vertically, he was now much taller than he was wide. The boy had become quite athletic in the last few months and would soon return to Hogwarts looking near nonidentical.

The huge fanatic of Defense Against the Dark Arts was attempting to learn his most challenging spell yet. The patronus charm. He had spent every day of his summer so far trying to cast this one spell, he'd never spent so focused on one section of magic in his entire life. Oliver was beyond the point of frustration, he was entering full-term misery over his inability to cast this charm. When he had first started, he renovated the attic adequately to give him space to fire spells at a target and to move around slightly. After two months, he had fully revamped the place, having added a fresh lick of paint to all surfaces, fixed up furniture and placed an endless array of photographs that made him "happy".

That's what the patronus charm was all about, Oliver was sure. As long as his happy memories were present in the room, he should be able to harness enough positive energy to produce a patronus. It worked somewhat. Since he changed his mindset from determination to reflection, he was beginning to form very weak incorporeal patroni. A faint shot of light that lasted a mere moment. Oliver would never be satisfied by it. He wanted the full corporeal patronus or nothing.

At this stage however, Oliver wasn't sure if he could do it. He didn't know if he had any happy memories that he could hold onto with enough strength to cast this spell. He'd never give up though, casting advanced magic was about the only thing Oliver was good at in life. There was one worrying factor though. When asked, his father told him that he couldn't cast a corporeal patronus anymore. He used to be able to when he was younger but now struggles to create even an incorporeal patronus. Oliver assumed his father relied on the happiness he used to have with Oliver's mother, which has likely since faded over the years. He tried to push those thoughts aside as it only moved him further away from casting the spell.

He missed happiness with his father though. Nearly a decade ago, the two had such fonder times together. He'd find his father to be so much happier on occasions. One time, they spent a summer with Oliver's grandfather, his father's father. He was a retired hippogriff breeder but still had one hippogriff he held onto. A tall, chestnut coloured male. Oliver's grandfather kept him due to both being too old to breed but also more sociable with humans. Oliver quickly became friendly with the hippogriff and in a few days was able to get close without any anxiety from anyone.
Weeks into what Oliver would hold as a peak time in his life, his grandfather suggested that Oliver and his father take the hippogriff for a flight. Oliver's father, who had grown up with hippogriffs, was of no stranger to sitting on the back of a hippogriff. The two mounted the tall, strong magical creature and in an instant were soaring through the sky. Oliver's father held onto his son tight as the two flew through the clouds. Oliver distinctively remembered looking up at his dad to see tears of joy running down the man's burly, stern face. It was the only time in his life he saw his dad radiating happiness. To Oliver, this moment meant everything.

And then Oliver felt it. As he stood there reflecting on his childhood summer, it wasn't his own happiness that surged him, it was that of others. He almost didn't care for the patronus casting in the glow of the thought, but it eventually kicked in that this was definitely the moment.

"EXPECTO PATRONUM!"

Oliver bellowed and from his wand he cast a magnificent, extremely bright corporeal patronus. It immediately took the form of a hippogriff. It first galloped around the room before leaping into a soar as it flew through the long attic. Oliver beamed at the magical manifestation. As the patronus faded out, he fell to his knees in mental exhaustion, overcome with pride that he could cast the spell.

Oliver would later tell his father of his new spell. Although his father had earlier told him that he had forgotten his patronus' corporeal form, he would tell Oliver that his too was a hippogriff and that he had hoped Oliver would share it with him. It made sense to his father more so than Oliver as to why Oliver had a hippogriff. Although his son was a late bloomer, an ugly duckling if one would, he would soon become a strong and proud man who would impress all those around him. He had only now begun to grow to fit his patronus, but alas he was still only a young teenager.

WC: 811


WHY THIS FITS YOUR CHARACTER:
Oliver's school life and home life are both things Oliver dreads. He's constantly bullied in school and at home lives with his vegetablised Death Eater mother who drains happiness from the home with just her presence. The one place Oliver can find himself happy and comfortable is when he's at his grandfather's house. It's also the only place he's found his father happy. To Oliver, that house, his grandfather and the hippogriff are much more magical than Hogwarts. They're at his core of most treasured things in life.

The Hippogriff in itself is a magical creature that fits Oliver quite well. Firstly, it's magical. Oliver has an extremely high affinity to magic. Secondly, hippogriffs hold themselves with intense pride and so those Oliver. This is something Oliver will grow into as he matures, but that shift happens in the timeline at the same time Oliver gains his patronus. It's a personality trait that has been dormant inside Oliver that I've consistently described Oliver thinking but rarely acting out. His character development from start to end is him learning to stick up for himself and be proud of who he is. Lastly, along with that, Oliver is fiercely loyal and protective, much like hippogriffs to those they care for. In the past, Oliver has been made into a shield character in many situations for those he's cared about.


STATUS: Pending

Mod edit: This is inconsistent with the story. We do check if the happy memories are making sense for the character, especially when it's a magical creature as we said this has to be a good explanation.
The fact, that the father came from a Hippogriff breeder family was never mentioned in past threads. On the contrary, the father is described as stern and "never happy" with a need to please.
Since Patronus is a late game ability for sixth years (5th for Prodigal) with 4/5 years of game and posts on the site, there has to be an established fact that works as a happy memory.
A never before mentioned grandfather with Hippogriff (who also were never mentioned to be of somewhat of an interest to the character) is not an explanation we'd accept.
Status approved

Sta 12, Evas 0, Str 0, Wis 9, ArcP 15, Acc 9

18 Aug 2021, 04:16
Corporeal Patronus RP
School Year: Graduate
Link to your encyclopedia thread: Link
Patronus you are applying for: Bumblebee (Bombus terrestris)
Describe why this fits your character:
Reducio
Happy memories. Caradoc never found a lack in either finding or creating them. In fact, he felt as if life had thrown him a bone when it came to this particular spell. Silently, the man twirled his wand around between his fingers as he mused on both the past as well as the scene transpiring before him. Sitting outside on his porch, the sun shone bright through the thick foliage of summer. A golden veil was drawn across the village, with Cassanora ahead of him, tending to her own affairs. Likely something to do with flowers she saw earlier that day. She meant to send a few to Maddie, he seemed to understand. Caradoc smiled carefully, trying not to make a sound and snatch the girl from her focus.

He was thinking of the patronus charm and how happy he felt at this moment in time. When he was young, still a student at Hogwarts, they had taught him the patronus charm. But it had never really... clicked, until now. After having succeeded back then in producing a good enough shield, he had never met the face of an actual "spirit guardian". They had seen dogs and cats that day, rabbits, horses and a multitude of others. It had never felt like the... right time for it. Like he had not been ready. Now his eyes lingered on his daughter's back, memories flashing by until he settled for one in particular. Slowly, Caradoc would close his eyes and remember.

It must have been a decade or so, ago. Maybe a few years less than his memory could accurately place them. Just outside of Dublin, he and Cassanora would often find themselves wandering in the meadows that bloomed over summer. Cass loved spending time out in the open, and their walks offered Caradoc the little peace he could find in a time when it was just the two of them at home. The world got quiet in the meadows, and the necessity to scream ebbed away with the rushing breeze tracing its paths through the long grass.

She was wearing a yellow dress, with little tulips drawn all over. It had been her favourite, and with the many times she had worn it, its edges had begun to tear. Her shoes she'd have left behind at first sight of the flower fields. Her giggling voice was carried on by the wind, giving it all an ethereal softness. A breeze brushed past the sides of his face, causing him to avert his gaze. He'd pick up his daughter's footwear and smile as their eyes locked briefly across the field. Her golden hair gliding in the wind.

"Look daddy! It's all so pretty!" Cass would cry out in excitement. Holding up the flower as her latest trophy. The little girl urged him to come take a look. Once there, Caradoc would lower himself to sit on his knees. She'd offer him the flower with a smile. But before her father was able to accept, a small fluffy insect landed right on top of it, buzzing with excitement. Cass would lean back against her father's chest, holding out the flower as far away from her as possible.

"It's okay." Caradoc whispered in her ear. "It's just a little bumblebee, see?" He took her hand and slowly pulled the flower closer. "They are often not seen for what they are, hard workers. The other flowers can only grow if this little guy helps them out. He takes a tiny bit of pollen from one flower and brings them to the next one. This way we get more and more flowers." He quietly explained as they both stared down at the unsuspecting insect. Caradoc's eyes briefly locked onto his daughter's face and saw a smile growing on her face. "I think they're cute." She had him know, and her father would grin and agree with a nod. "Someone once called them the "little musicians of the world", in a very old poem." Doc would whisper as they could hear the insect's gentle buzzing. "Like you, daddy!" Little Cass would whisper back to him. Her father would only smile and rub his daughter's arm.

Back on his porch, Caradoc pulled his gaze away from his daughter and lowered his head. "Expecto Patronum." He'd whisper almost intimately into his hand, as a little ball of blue light glided off the tip of his wand. There, in his free hand, a small spectral bumblebee gently crawled across his palm. It was timid and focused, despite being known for their loud buzzing nature. Hard work and loyalty, hidden under a flashy appearance. It was all a show after all. There was an agreement in that for Doc and this little bumblebee. He let out a happy breath as he understood. The bumblebee took flight as a different warmth than summer welled up inside Doc's body and the tiny creature started drawing circles around him.
STATUS: Approved

If you're reading this... You're awesome.
Calming Presence/Healing Sage/Wandless/Non-Verbal

STA - 16 | EVA - 6 | STR - 15 | WIS - 16 | ARC - 8 | ACC - 4

6 Sep 2021, 17:54
Corporeal Patronus RP
School Year: Ilvermorny Graduate
Link to your encyclopedia thread: Here
Patronus you are applying for: Blue Morpho Butterfly (Morpho peleides)
Describe why this fits your character:
Reducio
It had been several years since he had graduated from Ilvermorny and yet Kit still couldn't produce a corporeal patronus. This wasn't much of a wonder to him, however. Having grown up in the household he had had meant pleasing a pair of muggle parents who wanted nothing more than for him to fit into their ordinary muggle society. Though they believed that was the key to his happiness, Kit knew he couldn't be happy - nor could he truly indulge completely in any emotion lest it be too strong.

Strong emotions for a metamorphmagus like him meant an appearance change and an appearance change meant attracting unwanted attention from muggle society. That meant he couldn't seem normal if he behaved too emotionally due to how his metamorph abilities manifested themselves. As a result, Kit tried to teach himself to suppress his emotions.

It worked for a majority of the time. Every so often, though, his bottled emotions would build in intensity and pressure until they finally exploded. Try as he might, Kit couldn't train his emotions out of himself and he began to fear feeling any one of them too strongly. That included feelings of happiness - the very happiness required to create a corporeal patronus.

It was then, however, that Kit recalled the trick he had learned recently - the discovery that if he took the time to be emotional in a particular form, he could compartmentalize his more emotional thoughts and tendencies so as not to allow them to spill over when he didn't want them to. Closing his eyes, he concentrated. Soon, he appeared to be a young girl of around 12 years of age - a girl very dear to his heart who he sought to be like in her fearless ability to be herself. She didn't fear her emotions; she embraced them. It was only when taking on her appearance that he felt comfortable simply feeling what he felt in the moment. She had taught him that much.

~ * ~ * ~ * ~

Her name was Tymiko, but he called her Ty for short. Kit and Ty would often spend a great deal of time together exploring the outdoors, telling each other stories, practicing magic, and generally having fun. Tymiko couldn't understand why Kit felt such a need to restrain himself from feeling emotions too strongly. She knew he was a metamorphmagus, but she believed that control over those abilities of his would have come with practice while feeling emotions; not holding them back.

Kit disagreed, however, and believed that it was better not to allow his metamorphmagus tendencies to manifest at all. His parents had raised him to believe that 'normal' was best. Thus, he tried to remain as nonchalant as he could whenever possible in order to keep anything out of the ordinary from happening. This, of course, only made Tymiko more determined than ever to get him to exhibit his emotions. She would often play, poke, and prod at him, but rarely did she get any results.

On one such occasion, the pair were on a rooftop discussing wandless magic. Ty thought the key to unlocking such magic was intense emotion, determination, and willpower combined with concentration - similar to the wild, wandless magic that underage children unintentionally used. Kit believed there was more to it than that, but Ty wasn't listening. Impulsively, Tymiko snatched up his wand and darted to the edge of the roof. She meant to startle the magic out of him - even just a spell to slow her fall if not a levitation charm of some sort - but that did not occur. Instead, Kit leapt to his feet and dove off the roof after her. The only thought in his mind was to keep her from getting hurt.

He grabbed Tymiko and held her close, shielding her with his body as best he could when they hit the ground. His back and skin hardened in response to his fear and his will to protect, taking the worst of the impact once they reached the earth. The pair were rushed to the hospital immediately, but thanks to Kit's metamorphic body, they were largely unharmed with no lasting damage. It was then that he began to wonder if having been born a metamorphmagus wasn't such a bad thing after all. It was then that his whole life's perspective began to change.

~ * ~ * ~ * ~

A blissful smile curved Kit's lips - or, rather, Ty's, since he was wearing her form - as he reflected upon the memory. That was the first time he had actually begun to accept himself not just for who he was, but for what he was as well. He remembered having been so afraid in that moment of leaping off the roof, but for Tymiko, he had overcome that fear. He had thought they were both going to die, but the abilities he had tried to long to suppress had miraculously been their salvation.

Just when the caterpillar thought the world was over, it became a butterfly.

"Expecto Patronum," he spoke with the girl's voice, his words quiet but intense. As he focused, the silvery wisp that left the tip of his wand began to take on a shape. He stared in awe and facination as a pair of symmetrical wings grew and began to beat the air. Of course - a butterfly.

Butterflies had long been thought to represent change due to the metamorphic transformation they underwent from a caterpillar into a butterfly. Tymiko had feared change like Kit had feared emotions, but he had tried to change her perspective on the concept just like she had tried to change his. She had never wanted to grow up, fearing it to be the end of her world, but Kit had often told her it was only the start of a new life - or, rather, a new perspective on the world one used to know. He had undergone his own transformation thanks to her, ironically. Only after having saved them with his metamorph abilities did he gain a new perspective on his life like a caterpillar newly transformed into a butterfly.

As for the kind of butterfly, that too, he recognized. The Blue Morpho Butterfly was often thought to be a wish-granter and the blue color meant to symbolize healing. Tymiko, however, had always liked its blue color for a different reason. Though blue was said to be a 'sad' color, the Blue Morpho Butterfly's blue was so bright, the girl often said she thought it was too bright and saturated to be thought of as anything but a happy color. To her, that bright blue represented happiness. So to Kit, who enjoyed seeing the world through Ty's eyes, it did, too.

Happiness was what supposedly summoned partroni, so what made more sense than his own taking the shape of a Blue Morpho Butterfly? Kit smiled and reached out a finger, allowing the wispy, shining insect to perch upon it. It was his first summoning of an actual, corporeal patronus.

WC: 1169
STATUS: Approved

Remember always: things are seldom ever what they seem.

31 Jul 2022, 13:59
Corporeal Patronus RP
School Year: Hogwarts Graduate
Link to your encyclopedia thread: Kachow
Patronus you are applying for: Great white pelican (Pelecanus onocrotalus)
Describe why this fits your character:
Reducio
The chestnut wood wand danced in Magdalena’s fingertips, well-practised motions saw her idle fidgeting disguise itself as more than what it was, some sort of meditative ritual perhaps, and not merely the impatient hands of a seasoned practitioner. The potioneer did not remember when exactly she’d developed the need to constantly have something moving between her fingers, it was an unconscious thing, something developed out of habit rather than nature. Likely it was the neverending days of cutting and weighing reagents when she’d first undertaken her scholarship. It was absolutely necessary to maintain the purity and proper weighting of components, after all, and of course, that sort of thing was well below the purview of the well-respected and wizened masters to which she was working under. The best and brightest in potion-making had gathered from across the world to fiddle with herbs and pearls. It had been infuriating at the time, but now Magdalena could only look back on those memories with fondness.

They had been so arrogant, not just Magdalena, but the entire assortment of young wizards and witches who’d seen fit to travel to Kuala Lumpur to study. It had been a youthful confidence, truly, one born of excitement and ignorance. The kind of emotion that brought Magdalena nothing but nostalgic reminiscence when she thought over it now.

Days spent learning their craft, even if some of that learning had seemed rather mundane in comparison to the grand dealings that had been promised. Evenings spent discussing the subtle intricacies of alchemy, or more often, engaging in the much more enjoyable art of ingesting beverages brewed using the closest thing that muggles had to that most ancient art. Of course, hangovers made it more difficult to engage in any sort of intellectual debate, but such was life.

Those years had been among some of the best and most enjoyable in her life, a time where she had truly blossomed into a woman, and not just a girl with a few fancy NEWTs and delusions of grandeur as a result. They’d been difficult years, true, but she’d enjoyed them greatly. Yet, those happy memories were not the ones that she thought of as she prepared to cast the patronus charm.

Her thoughts turned to James, as they were wont to do when waves of nostalgia washed over her. Her ex-husband was a good man, all-too-serious and a workaholic, true, but kind and gentle all the same. They’d spent countless years together, and raised two beautiful children. Their first conversation in Suva all those years ago had lasted for hours and ended in the beginnings of a relationship that would culminate in their marriage. Alas, it wasn’t to be. The reasons were not important, maybe they were too similar, maybe they’d wanted different directions in life, maybe it was some oxymoronic combination of the two. James was content spending the rest of his life researching, his position in Singapore would allow him to do so. Magdalena longed to expand her knowledge through other means, to share it, and in no small part, to return home to the nation that she’d left all those years ago.

She’d migrated, spread her wings and seen the wide open blue of the world, taken in sights and settled to nest. The Malay peninsula had been her home for years, and for many periods in between she’d been privileged enough to see the idyllic locales of Polynesia and Melanesia. From Fiji to Kiribati, she’d learned from the rich wizarding traditions and put down temporary roots. Yet they’d never been thick nor deep enough to prevent replanting.

Those ties were not to land, but to people. Her children, the anchors of her life, the sheer and utter happiness that they’d brought her could not be paralleled nor compared to the idle triflings of learning. She’d watched them grow and develop, seen them blossom into beautiful young people. Yet, she had left them. Temporarily, yes, but she’d left them all the same. It had felt a betrayal, like she’d been scoring off her own flesh in some selfish pursuit. Magdalena knew that they understood, and she knew that they would be fine for those periods of the year where she’d not have easy contact. But it did not make it any easier. She would die for them, that she knew.

It was a peculiar thought. One that brought back other memories, of trips with her family, back before she even knew that there was a magical world. She and her sister, Charlotte, would play in the sand and the surf for hours on end. Girlish giggles would punctuate the air as the children chased one another, beneath the watchful eyes of not only their parents but the vast flocks of seabirds above.

It was only with the gift of motherhood that she understood what her own parents must have felt on those trips.

The memory was vivid, and she held and cherished it tightly as she cast the charm. Ivan and Laura, both still shy of their tenth birthday. With rosey cheeks and beaming smiles, Magdalena’s children rushed into the water, ignoring the warnings of their parents to be careful. In due course, they were out and running along the sand in a game no-doubt created on the spot, its rules ill-defined and fuelled entirely by childlike wonder and imagination. Then, once more, they were back in the surf, swimming and calling for Magdalena and James to join them.

The memory of her children playing beneath the warm summer sun, of her immense love for them, of her own feelings of nostalgia for her own days doing the same with her sister, filled her with more warmth than she could imagine.

The silvery form of the pelican erupted from the tip of her wand, the grand shape of the bird taking form, the wisps and whispers of translucent magic uniting into a creature that was more than the mere sum of its parts. For a few moments, it made as if to imitate its natural inspiration, flying through the air on imagined thermals, before finally settling to roost.

The joyous memories of her childhood and of her time spent abroad had formed into a creature that combined the elements of both, a manifestation of the sea and of the surf, one of the few truly migratory pelicans. Just as she had done, the bird would leave the land of its birth, setting sail for distant shores to breed and call its temporary abode, only to return to the land of its forefathers to settle.

But it was not rigid scientific logic that caused Magdalena to wipe the lone tear from her eye with her sleeve. No, that was reserved for a far more vivid, emotional recollection of a childhood near-forgotten. Of youthful Sunday mornings spent in church and the sigil that had stood outside it. That of the pelican piercing its own flesh to feed its young off its very lifeblood.

Magdalena had not understood then, but she did now, that of the need to sacrifice oneself for one's children. By all that was holy, she missed them dearly, and yet, even the distance of seas and continents would not belay the fact that she would willingly lay down life and limb for their benefit. Such was the love of a mother, such was the joy that parenthood brought.
Status: approved

The soul becomes dyed with the colour of its thoughts