Hidden depths
F I N N E G A Nx⳧xC O N N E R
☙ Hidden depths, 23rd of September 2023 ❧.Stumbling upon the overgrown ruin had been the only good thing to come out of his day.
An angry, frustrated kick against his mute companion had caused the ball to bounce off the road and lead him downhill, to a wild, overgrown section of the grounds he'd never been to before. Far away from the castle, skirting the edge of the Forbidden Forest and hidden from view by a wall of ivy was a tiny ruin, the aged stone half-sunken into the soft, mossy soil. Names and dates were etched into the old, gray stone, each carving a faded testament to young love and old flames.
He plopped down on the moist grass with a deflated sigh. From the moment he had woken up he'd had this horrible, crummy feeling in him that he just couldn't shake. Going outside was supposed to clear his head, but the jumbled mess of thoughts skittering about had only worsened. Oh, he knew the feeling, it had reared its ugly head before. Before his letter from Hogwarts, before magic, when he'd been stuck in the Headmaster's office staring listlessly at his shoes. The verdict had been delivered by the Headmaster with damning certainity: "We've explored all other options, he'll have to stay."
Having to repeat a year in primary school was like being told to your face that you were a numpty, it just didn't happen. He'd been called a muppet before by his friends from muggle school but he'd always shrugged it off as childish teasing. But sitting in the Headmaster's office that day, flanked by his parents, he'd started to question for the first time if they'd really been joking. If they hadn't been, then how thick was he to only realize it now? The only thing that had saved him from doing the year over had been that owl from Hogwarts.
Still, all his family were convinced that he'd been sent of to a special school were they put all the dummies and misfits. The worst part? No one had questioned it even for a moment.
Hunched over and cross-legged, he mindlessly picked at the petals from a flower while his mind teeter-tottered from one horrible memory to the next. How many times had George insisted he had rocks for a brain? He'd laughed at it too at the time, he'd shrugged it off just like he'd done with his muggle friends from school. But then Elsian had called him a bludger head, and an air head to boot, and several other colorful things. He'd laughed, he'd shrugged, he'd forgotten about it until now. Today, his useless brain had put all the scum at the forefront of his mind. Everything from the teasing insults to the mild disappointment on his mother's face when he'd presented his report card. Perhaps he could have tried to persuade her that P he had for Charms stood for Perfect, but she would've seen right through that, so he'd told her the truth.
The only good thing in the sea of A's and P's had been the O for Defense Against the Dark Arts and the E for Flying.
Honestly, Professor Fresnel had probably just felt bad about giving him the T he deserved. It had taken him all year to get the wand-lighting charm down, and even then it was pulsing and wobbly unlike everyone else's. The locking and unlocking charm had been his saving grace, he hadn't completely butchered those, unlike his first attempted at the levitation charm which he still hadn't gotten down.
He rubbed a speck of dirt from his eye with the back of his sleeve and swallowed hard.
There it was again, bile rising in his throat, dread gnawing at his insides. What would Professor Fresnel say? She probably hated him and he couldn't blame her. She seemed kind and patient, but everyone had limits. Even the most patient souls could tire, and it was just a matter of who would crack first: June or Professor Fresnel. Both had to realize by now how utterly hopeless he was.
He stared at his football, the white leather glistening with dew. It was tempting to stay with his quiet, loyal companion, to let the minutes tick away and skip the afternoon meeting. Except if he skipped out on her, he'd only be making things worse. For all his inadequacies, he hadn't been expelled just yet or told that there had been some terrible mistake. That day would come, he was sure and certain of it, but perhaps not yet, perhaps not today.
With a heavy sigh, he pushed himself to his feet. The grass, wet from the morning dew, clung to his trousers, as if nature itself was resisting his departure. He wished he could stay, listen to the birds and wind, but it was almost noon, he had to go. He glanced down at the fabric that had seen better days, faded from repeated washing and fraying at the edges. There was reason he stuck to his uniform most of the time, even though his baggy sweaters and faded-print shirts were far more comfortable.
Tucking the football under his arm, he sauntered back to the castle. Yet despite his sluggish approach, felt quite short of breath by the time he'd made it through the double doors. After he'd made his way down familiar corridors, he came to a halt before Professor Fresnel's office.
He dug his nails into the floppy sleeves, hovered his hand over the door and bit down hard on the inside of his cheeks.
Here we go...
The knock was little more than a quick, quiet rap against the wood. Maybe she wouldn't hear it. Maybe he could turn around, walk away, and when she'd ask about it, he could tell her he had showed up and knocked, maybe-
Too late.
"Good afternoon Professor." His voice was low and groggy and devoid of sincerity. He didn't bother to look up at her, prefering instead to stare at his faded sneakers.Reducio@Zoë Fresnel, @Eliseo CéspedesStamina 10 ✶ Evasion 10 ✶ Strength 2 ✶ Wisdom 3 ✶ Arcane Power 5 ✶ Accuracy 10
"He's a dweeby chocolate bar lip smacking nerd" - Evelynn Decipio
Hidden depths
Light shimmered through the open classroom windows as the crisp but calm early fall air gently trickled in. The moment the familiar faint chill of fall had swept into the air, Zoë had intended to take full advantage of her favorite time of year. A number of gently flickering candles perched upon spinal column holders spread throughout the empty classroom further accented the increasingly spooky essence of her class.
As her classroom was often a revolving reflection of her own interests, Zoë always took pride in the more subtle details and secrets hidden throughout the room. While many specific lessons called for an entire rearrangement of her class for the ever-chaotic activities and small wars that were held within the walls of the Charms classroom, Zoë made sure there were at least a few subtle differences each day for her students. While most of the changes were for her own amusement, she knew there were at least a handful of students throughout her different years who always appeared to be searching for new changes.
With lesson plans squared away and the vast bulk of assignments graded that her fourth years had recently turned in, Zoë had spent the majority of her morning planning her room for a lesson that would come the following day.
Zoë stood at the center of her classroom, her wand gently rolling between her fingers in one hand while her other hand softly caressed her chin in silent contemplation. Adorned in a soft blue top that always reminded her of Beauxbatons, Zoë’s keen eyes scanned her classroom for anything that may have been missed.
There were small orange and white pumpkins perched on the far bookshelves with several hand-sculpted clay ghosts hidden throughout the room. The students’ desks were arranged in a subtle crescent facing her own table. Ivy with curious red and orange tinted leaves crept up and over her open classroom windows like twin serpents slowly slithering over the stone wall. With heavy rain having dominated the majority of the previous few days, Zoë hadn’t been able to simply enjoy the cool fall air without allowing a torrent of water rushing through the windows.
A quick and graceful flick of her wand and muttered incantation brought a book flying across the classroom before being plucked out of the air with the calm ease of someone who had become accustomed to items being at the beckoned call of her wand. The book itself was a curious text on some lesser-known French fall treats that Zoë believed she may need later in the day. While not exactly sure what her excentric other half was up to, Zoë had intended to surprise him later in the day with something, and, like her, treats had always been an entertaining way to bring a smile to the man’s face.
But before she would proceed any further with classroom preparations or quiet baking, she knew that she had scheduled a meeting with one of her younger students. While undoubtedly struggling, Finnegan Conner hadn’t struck Zoë as the type of student who was struggling out of sheer malicious laziness or disregard. In his first year, Zoë had noticed the boy had begun to fall behind but had hoped that summer might have offered him the chance to catch up to his peers or reorient his approach to her class. Sentiments that were beginning to appear unlikely.
Zoë had taught all manner of students in her time both at Beauxbatons and Hogwarts. In her time, she had come to recognize that there was a wide array of things that could cause a student to begin struggling. With the boy’s second year already underway, the last thing Zoë wanted was for Finnegan to fall so far behind that he would feel as though he was drowning. As the year picked up, she knew that it would only become more challenging, so if there was something she could do to help the young wizard or some unseen challenge, she intended to find it.
Requesting the meeting placed the metaphorical ball in Finnegan’s court, it was the Professor’s genuine offer to figure out what they could do to help the boy catch up and better perform. At the end of the day, it would still be up to Finnegan to rise to meet the rigors of the class but she did believe that he showed the propensity to learn.
Sliding her wand gently into its concealed sheath, Zoë prodded back through the classroom and into her adjourning office to prepare for her meeting with Finnegan. A small wooden skeleton sat in the corner of her office beside her window sill with a face painted to look almost like a mouse. Her classroom companion looked out of place but she knew its makeover for the coming classes would come in a short time.
There were several bookshelves lining her walls filled with books in English and French alike, but the fall decorum of her classroom had fully conquered the ever-cozy office. There was a subtle scent of pumpkin spice still wafting through the air from her morning coffee. A large couch pressed into the corner of the office had a number of ghost-shaped pillows and many of the baubles strewn about her shelves harkened to the seasonal change. Even a few of the unique clay ghosts could be found hidden among the books, their small curious eyes peering back at Zoë as she looked for her second-year lesson plan.
Glancing over the content, Zoë took note of some of the more challenging Charms to come and began thinking of some preliminary strategies that might be useful for the boy. But before any plan could be drawn up, Zoë knew that she needed more insight into the challenges themselves. With every student learning differently, it was nearly impossible to have a good plan without first taking the time to get to know the student.
With a soft knock on the door to her office, Zoë’s eyes flicked up to the door as she softly smiled. Closing the open lesson plan, Zoë rose back to her feet and cleared a number of papers off her desk before moving to the door.
“Bonjour Finnegan!” Zoë said warmly as she opened the door to the office. Already she could see a relative look of defeat weighing over the poor student. She understood the sentiment and knew that there weren’t many students would would revel at a meeting with a professor to discuss poor performance.
“Please come in. I’m glad you were able to make it,” Zoë continued with a genuine smile as she gestured for the young student to enter. "Can I offer you a cup of cider or hot chocolate before we begin?" Stepping back from the door, Zoë's eyes remained instinctively on the downtrodden boy trying to think about how best to proceed without further demoralizing him.
OOTD:Reducio
#134f5c
@Finnegan Conner
Stamina: 5 / Evasion: 11 / Strength: 2 / Wisdom: 20 / ArcPower: 16 / Accuracy: 16
"Never be so politе you forget your power. Nevеr wield such power you forget to be polite."
Hidden depths
F I N N E G A Nx⳧xC O N N E R
☙ Hidden depths, 23rd of September 2023 ❧.He sauntered forward, the charged entered the courtroom, head hanging low with guilt and shame. The door fell into its lock behind him. He was trapped.
Small sculptures peeked out from behind bookshelves and odd little corners in the masonry; a tiny audience to the whole, embarassing ordeal. Their beady eyes mocked him gleefully when he knelt down to set down his football. Mud and bits of grass had smudged his sweater where he'd kept it under his arm.
The heady smell of pumpkin and coffee wrapped all around him, dazing him like too-strong incense. "No thanks," he croaked, finally looking up to meet Professor Fresnel's gaze. Difficult to imagine her upset, the thought crossed his mind. By all accounts she should be his favorite teacher. She was kind, patient, and miraculously well put together for someone bursting at the seams with creativity.
She looks nice. Red cheeks accompanied the thought while he averted his gaze. Thoughts just popped into his head sometimes, uninvited, and if he got real unlucky, they came tumbling out of his mouth too. At least half of all the scrapes and bruises he'd ever gotten had been because of it, because his mouth and his brain were always trying to get ahead of each other. When he'd said "no thanks" he'd meant was "yes please."
He'd take anything, anything at all to put off the inevitable talking to. A sip of Dog's Breath? Done. A plate full of broccoli? Done. Hell, she could've offered him brussel sprouts and he would have been delighted to savor every disgusting little bite. Seeing nowhere else to sit, he dragged himself over to the couch and let it swallow him up. He winced at the little scraping noise it made when the impact of his weight dragged it ever so slightly across the floor. Every little noise was too loud, every smell too strong, and the little sculptures were still staring at him. Laughing at him.
"I'd-" his throat was dry. "I'd like a hot chocolate actually..." he croaked while retreating further and further into the couch. While his drink was being prepared, he took turns nibbling on the edge of one sleeve and then the other. What if she already knew? Professors had a way of knowing things even when you didn't tell them.
What if she knew this wasn't the first time he had one of these talks? It wasn't even the second time, or the third. He knew exactly how it would go. He'd get yelled at for being in the red, for being lazy and unfocused, and she'd throw in the usual suspects like "think of your future", "think of your potential," and the ever-loathed, "I'm only trying to help."
He snorted at that. As if teachers ever helped. How could they? There was no cure for stupid. Not even here.
When offered, he cupped the hot mug with both hands and took a cautious sip after blowing the hot steam away. The hot drink left a faint chocolate mustache on his face that he didn't seem to notice.
"I'm trying, I really am," he started pre-emptively, "but it just don't come out right. My dad thinks-" he stopped himself in the nick of time and quickly hid his face behind another sip. "Never mind. Sorry Professor."Reducio@Zoë Fresnel, @Eliseo CéspedesStamina 10 ✶ Evasion 10 ✶ Strength 2 ✶ Wisdom 3 ✶ Arcane Power 5 ✶ Accuracy 10
"He's a dweeby chocolate bar lip smacking nerd" - Evelynn Decipio
Hidden depths
There was an air of politeness around the boy, past the timid demeanor, she could see that he was kind-hearted. Having taught a wide array of different students with all sorts of ways of approaching their studies, she doubted that he was one of those who simply didn’t care. There was no attempt at arrogance and no mock laissez faire indifference. Those who didn’t care or believed themselves above her lessons wouldn’t make an effort at politeness.
That being said, Zoë could see the boy wrestling with his nerves with an impulsive politeness. One that didn’t want to present as a bother, even at the simplest of offerings. So even as the drink was declined, Zoë made no attempt to push the young wizard. There was enough on his mind without any additional pressure.
However, the corner of Zoë’s mouth pressed into a subtle smile as the boy suddenly retreated from his original answer. Based on the expression and posture of Finnegan, she didn’t imagine that he had a habit of advocating for what he actually wanted. Nonetheless, she was proud that he found it within himself to swallow the fear and ask.
“An excellent choice,” Zoë praised with a smile. Turning to her ornate dark wood coffee bar, she carefully plucked up one of the larger urn-like containers that had been enchanted to remain warm. As Zoë lifted off the lid, the scent of rich chocolate immediately entered the air as she took in its pleasant aura. Grabbing a pair of pumpkin-shaped mugs, Zoë placed them on small carved wooden plates and began to pour.
“I would ask if you wanted little marshmallows on top, but there is only one correct answer, so I have added them,” Zoë mused as she also placed a cinnamon stick in each of the mugs to add to the crisp fall essence. In one of the small drawers, Zoë pulled out 6 bite-sized cookies, placing 3 on the edge of each plate. She always felt that hot cocoa went best with a small treat.
“Do be careful of the heat, but I hope you enjoy,” she added, her tone remaining calm and friendly, wanting to avoid making her young pupil feel as though he was causing any inconvenience. In her mind, this meeting was for his benefit and anything that would further bring down his spirits would contradict her hopes. After handing Finnegan the small plate, Zoë pulled one of the soft chairs in front of her desk and placed it in front of the couch but off to the side to avoid the awkwardness of confining the boy.
With the sudden preemptive defense, Zoë nodded along with his words. She didn’t wish to interrupt him and knew that there was truth in what he was saying. Some Professors from her own time at Hogwarts might have quickly attributed any poor performance to a lack of trying, but in her experience that was rarely the case. Or at the very least, it was rarely the entire story.
Again the boy showed his quick manners but Zoë shook her head slowly. “Finnegan, you have nothing to apologize for. I promise.” She gave a genuine smile to the boy before gracefully settling in her chair. “This is not a meeting to get you into trouble. It is only to better understand. Everyone learns in different ways and faces challenges that might seem impossible. It was Ancient Runes for me,” she added with a smirk.
“As your Professor, I am never going to get upset if you are struggling, I genuinely want each of you to find success. Sometimes, I just need the help of my students to show me how I can best support their magical adventures through my class.” Zoë paused after a moment to gather her thoughts as she took a quick sip of her own drink. “I am not here to lecture or scold you Finnegan. All I hope for is that you will trust me enough to work with you. So I would love to hear any of your ideas. Together we can figure out how we might be able to start getting you caught up.”
Giving the boy a short nod, Zoë leaned back in her chair and took another quick sip as she allowed the boy a moment to process and offer any of his initial thoughts or perspectives about what may be going on.
OOTD:Reducio
#134f5c
@Finnegan Conner
Stamina: 5 / Evasion: 11 / Strength: 2 / Wisdom: 20 / ArcPower: 16 / Accuracy: 16
"Never be so politе you forget your power. Nevеr wield such power you forget to be polite."
Hidden depths
F I N N E G A Nx⳧xC O N N E R
☙ Hidden depths, 23rd of September 2023 ❧.When Professor Fresnel was done speaking, a silence fell between them that he didn't know how to fill. Across the room, one of the clay sculptures blinked at him, its pudgy face half-hidden behind a volume of Chadwick's Charms. He dragged his eyes away from the bookshelf and tried to think of something that might help his pathetic charms work. "I don't know," he muttered, desperate to stop the silence from stretching. "I know what doesn't work," he added between pensive sips of his hot drink.
He dreaded telling Professor Fresnel about his extra -curricular activities, but saw no way around it. "Do you know June Selwyn? There's nice. She's a third year, Slytherin house, offered to help me out with charms. We've been at it all last year, but, well..." he scratched the nape of his neck and grimaced. "I don't think it's been coming on right, she's more of a distraction, she means well but-." The bashful look that accompanied his confession would tell Zoe everything that Finnegan didn't say out loud, "we don't talk much anymore, I mean we didn't for a long while, it's been getting better lately, but we haven't picked up the practice."
He nibbled on one of the cookies and shifted uneasily in his seat. "I'm always out of puff after Quidditch practice, so that's half the week gone, then there's all the assignments..." he sighed softly and rubbed one of his eyes with the back of his hand. How was he ever going to survive next year when they had even more classes? Just trying to juggle the current load was difficult enough. "I can maybe cram in one or two hours of practice every week, but I'm not sure who I should practice with if not Ju-, Miss Selwyn."
Was more practice even the answer? Maybe he was just fundamentally broken, like a cripple trying to to play ball. It probably didn't help that his clumsy charms work had led to several near-accidents and just the thought of having to embarrass himself in front of one of his classmates for an hour every week made him shudder. "Professor, do you reckon... if it's not too much to ask, do you think I could come by once in a while if I'm struggling with a charm?" Not much of an if, he thought to himself, then shrugged. "Ah, never mind, you're probably too busy."Reducio@Zoë Fresnel, @Eliseo Céspedes, @June SelwynStamina 10 ✶ Evasion 10 ✶ Strength 2 ✶ Wisdom 3 ✶ Arcane Power 5 ✶ Accuracy 10
"He's a dweeby chocolate bar lip smacking nerd" - Evelynn Decipio