Despite his frequent protests otherwise, Johannes’ magic had always taken well to healing. It was the curse of a pacifist’s wand bound to a caster far from it—if it were up to its fickle flamboyancy, he’d never need to cast anything much scarier than support spells, no matter how frequently he got himself in trouble.

An independent, scrappy and rarely supervised child, though one frequently protected and entertained by his closest peers, a healer’s visit after every scuffle gone wrong seemed a greater inconvenience than anything. The Hellhounds were an intense, insular group, and Johannes didn’t need to add any more ink to his disciplinary record. It was a minor thing to tidy their clothes before classes, and tap his wand on a friend’s knuckles just as they started to bruise. What harm was it to soothe a burn if he was already in the firefight, or to kill the pain before they sought more of it? There was no difference in praise if he healed his own or harmed another, not if he played his cards right. There was a reason why Johannes had specialised in spell combinations in his last few years at Durmstrang and not healing—it was useful, undeniably, but only ever a minor boon in the grand scheme of things. Healing gave him no less trouble than other non-offensive spells, and it was a funny thing to remember how satirical his friends had been when they’d first gifted him those damn anatomy books. To think he'd turn out this way, so mortally brooding, all these years later...

It wasn’t until he started associating himself with the Horntails that things began escalating. His dear, good-hearted friends were so fearlessly self-sacrificial that every day alive was a miracle. Johannes could never be a replacement Romeo, who could reference both muggle and magical cures like an encyclopedia, somehow still stalwart and noble at the forefront of mortal danger. He was better suited as a necessary safety net, remarks—not orders—aplenty and potions in dangerous excess. He’d worked alongside the other for long enough that replicating his underclassman's talents would be redundant, anyway, and there were an infinite number of other people better qualified to be in a healer’s tent. He’d probably go stir-crazy if so frequently left on-standby, no matter how much safer understudying was.

And yet, beyond relying on his own associates to keep things afloat, there remained an implication of responsible outside help. From his perspective, Durmstrang had encountered far too many real, professionally incompetent medical teams tasked to keep them safe, all too slow or hesitant to justify their presence. Hexwizard, Quidditch, Pyre—the list went on. Either the British Isles were a lost cause, or Johannes had to bring matters into his own hands.

He'd first broken into healing to complement his frequent adventures and compensate for bad decisions, but an exciting life had its necessary traumas. He'd been the only real healer at hand when slugs had infected Valentin and Romeo, Slava’s first choice at both a bruiser and a best friend, and a card up the sleeve during Hexwizard. If it wasn't Romeo on deck, it was Johannes at starboard. It'd been natural to look into both healer and auror programs after graduation, and convenient to intern at the National German Library of Medicine (ZBMed) in some attempt to prepare himself better for the rest of his life at stake.

The truth was, for all of his skill and undying loyalty, Johannes had always been an emergency stopgap rather than a true saviour. In his words, he’d only ever been useful enough to keep people healthy enough to be alive, and alive enough to get themselves somewhere safe. He’d brought both Valentin (Tapping on the Glass) and Mikael (Hexwizard Stage 1) back from the brink, but that was the real limit to his miracles. It was a cruel thing to call himself a medic when he hesitated at an unfamiliar face, crueller still to consider a combat medic’s career without intensive preparation. Compared to people who'd committed their entire lives in service of others, Johannes could barely offer anything more remarkable than grit.

Still, no matter his musings and intentions, it was actions, not proclamation, that made the difference. He'd always held grudges, been too vengeful and fearful of change to break from his carved-out niche, but Johannes' usefulness started and stopped with resourcefulness. If he could get the job done, it didn't matter if he needed a connection to sweeten his magic's stinging influence. Healing was easy; solving the situation that necessitated it was harder, but paramedicine didn’t need a prodigy out of a prodigal son. It—he—just needed to excel enough to stabilise the situation.

It had been a long day

Rosy entered the Slytherin and groaned loudly; the first years had been piled by homework. "It's not like we have to give our O.W.L.'s this year or anything," said Emma, her best friend. "Why are they pressurizing us so much?" "I don't know," replied Rosy, nonchalantly. "How will I ever finish 3 essays, 2 diagrams and practice 2 spells by today?" Emma complained.

But Rosy wasn't listening, her attention wandered away to the corner of the common room, where she saw a girl sobbing quietly in her robes. "Hold on a minute," she told Emma. "I'll be right back." She tiptoed over to the girl but when she saw Rosy, she dashed away and hid behind the sofa.

"It's OK," said Rosy. "You can come out." But the girl didn't budge from her place. Rosy slowly squeezed into the little space behind the sofa besides the girl. The girl looked up and moaned and let out a sob at the same time. "What do you want?" she asked miserably and Rosy suddenly got a feeling as if she had violated the girl's personal space. Regardless, she tried to make the girl feel better.

"Hey, there," she said weakly. "I'm Rosy, a first year. I was just doing my homework when I saw you here and I thought that there was something wrong and decided to come comfort you," she continued truthfully. "Why do you want to comfort me? I don't even know you," said the girl. "I don't know. I guess I just want everybody to be happy. Now come here and tell me about yourself and what's going on," said Rosy.

But the girl didn't move and started talking in a very quiet voice so Rosy had to lean in a bit to listen to her. "It's my grandma," she said. "She was very sick until a few days ago. She was admitted in the Muggle hospital until a week ago, when she was finally discharged and came home. The doctors said she was fully treated and fine. I was thrilled to hear the news."

"Well then there's nothing wrong, is there?" asked Rosy but the girl shook her head. "The doctors said she was fine, but she wasn't. A few days ago, sh-sh-she g-g-got a heart attack and she p-p-passed away." The girl began crying once more and Rosy felt bad for the girl, she loved her grandma a lot too and would hate to lose her.

"Well, I can understand your pain, but I'm sure your grandma must be watching over you from above and she wouldn't like it to see you were crying now, would she?" said Rosy. "N-n-no, sh-sh-she wouldn't," replied the girl. "Exactly well then come along, wipe your tears, and you didn't tell me your name?" "It's Cassandra," the girl replied.

"Great, then come on Cassandra, cheer up" said Rosy. Cassandra laughed slightly and said, "Thank you for comforting me, Rosy" and she walked away looking very happy.

But there was one thing Rosy couldn't understand. Until a minute ago, Cassandra was crying and now, she was laughing like ever before. Sure, Rosy had comforted her but how could she be so happy all of a sudden. "Mood swings, I guess?" she thought to herself as she returned to her desk to begin on her essay, not knowing that the real reason for Cassandra's sudden happiness was just her own presence

Wc: 1,179
Magnus ever sense he was younger always had a key interest for getting into fights things his mother frown upon a lot but as he got older those habits seemed to happen more often with other kids in the towns they would visit who would attempt to make fun of Magnus. It always resulted in the same outcome, which was Magnus would beat them to a pulp and his mother would force him to apologize before giving him a stern talking to when they got home. Axel Blackwood noticed that his son seemed to just have too much energy wasting around which usually resulted in him getting into fights. Suddenly an idea came to him in that moment. He remembered one of his friends mentioning how someplace in Moscow offered a muggle dojo that taught martial arts classes. Sure knowing martial arts would never protect Magnus from magic but if someone tried to fight him wandless without magic he would at least know how to defend himself.

As Magnus and his father walked towards the dojo he looked up at his father looking skeptical of the place. His father got onto his knees before giving him a reassuring smile. “Look just give it a chance alright ? I promise I think you’ll like it.” He asked before holding his hand out for Magnus to give him a fist bump. Magnus looked down at his fist still skeptical before sighing and giving him a fist bump back. If his father was shaking he may like it then he probably should give it a chance. “Alright!” He said quietly before walking inside with his father which they were greeted with the sensei of the dojo. Sensei Sergei, he was a tall and strong Russian man who was bald and seemed to have long beard. Magnus couldn’t really tell how old he wasn’t but he wasn’t too old that Magnus would be worried about him hurting himself.

He watched as Sergei shook hands with his father as they seemed to know each other possibly before Sergei looked at Magnus and introduced himself. “Hello Magnus, I am Sergei and I shall be your sensei for todays lessons, your father tells me your not sure about taking these classes so let’s see if we can get you interested before the end of the day. His voice was deep and has a calming presence to it that Magnus likes and by the looks of it the man seemed strong.

As the lessons started Magnus watched and learnt many things in only a span of a few hours, the first lessons was just a simple punch into a wooden board to see which of the students could break it. Magnus ended up being the most shocking out of the students as on his first try he broke the board in half and didn’t have any marks or any pain in his hand. It was quiet in the dojo as a young Magnus just looked around confused while Sergei looked absolutely excited. “Fascinating!” He cheered before moving into the next section of the lesson for today. Magnus for once felt..pride in his system, as for once his anger felt like it was being used in a good way and not seen in a negative light like his mother loved to do.

Next he wanted to see just how good the students would be at kicking with a fun little competitive game, he would throw little bean bags at them and whoever could keep the bean bag up in the air just by kicking with either leg or switch to different ones would get a medal for there hard work. Magnus absolutely adored medals and always wanted one so hearing this he got really competitive. It seemed to pay off in the end as while other kids had fallen over or dropped their bean bag Magnus was one of the only ones who managed to keep his in the air. He kept going not even paying attention that he had one to eventually he couldn’t keep it up in the air anymore.

He finally looked over at his father and Sergei before asking them the most important questions on his young mind. ”so did I win ?” He asked as he looked confused before his father and Sergei let out a laugh.

They finally worked on the last two parts of the lessons, the chokehold and a grapple. From the way Sergei demonstrated both the grapple seemed the most effective and easier to use. Sergei thought to test how Magnus worked under pressure by having him face two opponents at once. As they both rushed towards him Magnus instincts told him to use the moves he learnt from today against them. When the first boy moved towards him he punch him square in the face before he jumped onto him and wrapping his arms around the boy putting him in a chokehold as he used his leg to keep the other boy away, so that way he couldn’t touch him. The boy quickly tapped out from the strength of Magnus hold so now all he had to do was focus on one boy.

The other boy who looked terrified beyond repair let out a terrified scream as Magnus went straight for his chest tackling him before he pinned the boy down to the mat and held him there. Sergei clapped his hands as he watched this looking extremely proud at Magnus, even his father looked proud. Magnus didn’t know why but it made him feel special. “Magnificent! You truly are incredible my boy! Here come with me to my office real quick to get your medal!” He cheered as he lead Magnus to his office.

As Magnus followed him he noticed his office seemed to be covered in trophy’s from years of tournaments that Sergei seemed to had won himself.
“You won…all of these ?” He asked with a curious look on his face as he had never seen so many trophy’s in a room. Sergei just looked at him as he held a medal in his hand before nodding at him. “Ah! I see you take an interest in that yes ? I’ve won many trophy’s for martial arts but also for boxing too!” He patted Magnus on the back before putting the medal onto his back as he looked down at the boy. “So if you decide to stay in my class I promise you’ll have a fun time like today Magnus” He gave him a friendly smile before walking off but not before giving him a little wink. Out the corner of Magnus eyes he noticed on Sergei was a wand meaning he was a wizard. Which made Magnus feel better because he honestly felt really close to Sergei like he was someone to admire and learn from.

As Magnus and his father walked out of the dojo he couldn’t help but think about how much fun he had today. He looked up at his father before asking one simple question. “When do I start?”

wc: 415

From a young age, people always said Emi was naturally pretty. Emi had a pale face with a slim jawline, and she also had large, expressive eyes that were always shining brightly, even when she was sad, and long black hair that fell to her armpits. Emi had a soft, noticeable charm that just naturally caught people’s eye without her even trying. Even when she was doing ordinary tasks like reading, people would end up being caught staring at her, or when she was just talking to her Muggle friend, Hana. People would say that she is just… pretty. But Emi did not agree. She thought that she was average-looking, with nothing special about her. All Emi wanted was to live a normal life like any normal Japanese girl around her age—make friends, gossip, go shopping together, that kind of stuff.

When she was only 10, she became calmer, more observant, and more thoughtful, often picking up on little things other people missed, resulting in her attracting way more attention, which she despised. Emi, being Emi, hated this attention, as her beauty gave her way more problems. Once, when Emi was going to the shopping mall with her younger sister, Sakura, and her mother, a magazine photographer wanted to take her photo for some magazine article. Basically, they asked Emi to take part in a photo shoot to be a model. Emi was kind of interested. Kind of. But of course, knowing Emi’s mother for being very overprotective, she said no and threatened to call the police. Emi had forgotten all about her mother being very overprotective, so she was genuinely a little confused.

Soon, everyone thought that the way she walked, turned her head, or even paused before talking all had a quiet elegance that was hard to put into words but easy to sense. Emi, of course, did not notice that. She definitely hated attention. She always found it… disturbing, distracting, and annoying. Emi could not focus in class when there were people staring and pointing fingers at her as she walked down the hallway gracefully. People often asked how. But, she never knew how she did it. She just… did.

She didn’t mind it that much when Sakura was with her. Even though Sakura is five years younger than her, Emi was very attached to Sakura. They were the kind of sisters that any parent would dream of—rarely arguing, always sharing stuff (like clothes and toys), and always playing with each other.

"Mom! I can't find my storybook! Can you find it?" Yelled Robin. "Wait for some time, I'll find it!" She replied. "But mom, I need it now!" "Wait, I'll find it!" Replied Esther, getting to her feet. The girls were 7 and 10 respectively, it was December, and a day before they were to travel to New York to meet their relatives. They weren't that enthusiastic but were happy in order to meet their cousin Bea. "Do it quickly! I need it for New York." "Fine, fine, but if I find it in a minute, then you're going to have to have your hair done by Bea!" "Deal, but if you don't find it then you're going to have a hairstyle change!" Robin replied.

Esther looked for the book. Honestly, why did she like that book so much? She looked in their parents' room, but it wasn't there. She was counting the seconds; 20 had already passed. She'd have to move quickly, or else her hair would have a bunch of pink clips stuck to it. She entered her room. Tucked between two pillows and a dress was the book Robin needed. "Look who's going to get a bunch of clips stuck in their hair!" Esther thought to herself before going back to the drawing room. Turns out, 50 seconds had passed.

"Mom! Robin! I found the book! It was hidden under my pillows and dress!" Esther yelled out. "But how? I checked in your room a hundred times!" Robin gasped. "Well, it doesn't matter now, you're going to have 30 pink clips in your hair!" Esther replied. "Mom, can we spend Christmas at home?" Robin whined. "I'm afraid not, I promised my dad we would go there tomorrow," Amelia replied. "But mom...." she retorted before she was cut off with a 'not my problem' from Amelia.

"Alright, girls, we're going to play a game introduced by my friend. I'm going to hide an object around the house, and whoever finds it first gets a chocolate frog, alright?" Oliver announced as soon as he was back from work. He disappeared with his wand while instructing the girls to close their eyes. Then he reappeared, but without his wand. "My wand is the object missing! And you may start searching in 3, 2, 1, GO!!" He announced. As soon as he said go, the girls ran out of the living room.

"Where could it be?" Esther thought to herself as she walked around the kitchen. She had already checked in the living room but it wasn't there. She saw Robin leave the kitchen after an unsuccessful search. She decided to search the kitchen again, as Robin was, after all, 3 years younger. She may have missed something while searching. She noticed something pointy visible underneath the dishes as soon as she turned around. The part visible wasn't much, but it was noticeable well. She moved the dishes aside and found her dad’s wand. And what shocked her the most was that it barely took any time. “Dad!! I found it!” She yelled running into the living room. “Congrats Esther! You get the chocolate frog!” He announced and then handing it over. “How did you find it?” Robin whined. “You didn’t notice the thing sticking out from under the dishes.” She replied.

From that day on in the Meadows household, whenever something went missing, the first person they would ask was Esther, and she would find it in no time. Sometimes it was annoying as she was often asked while doing something. But she felt proud to be able to notice stuff that most people couldn’t. Even her grandmother, Sarah who usually made fun of Esther and Robin commented. “This girl is actually useful for something!” While Jonathan looked unimpressed.

Kanthil always had an aptitude for taking care of creatures, the talent that she clearly didn’t get from her parents. Aryamurti and Larasati had never shown any interest in keeping any creature in the house, perhaps because they were too busy or they just didn’t care about it. So how did Kanthil have it?

At that time, she was a six-year-old girl. She asked Lesmana to play with her. Lesmana rejected the request at that time. However, the girl didn’t stop asking. She didn’t even give up and would try everything to get the attention of the Sixth Year student. With a final sigh, Lesmana couldn’t help but fulfil her request. He thought, perhaps, this could lessen his stress with the upcoming final examination next year.

How ecstatic the girl was to be able to play with her cousin. Since it was Summer, most of her peers went away to go on holiday with their families. The girl was alone. Her parents were busy with their studies and work. That was why Kanthil went to Lesmana and tried her best to pull him out of the house. “Huh? You brought that chicken again?” Kanthil asked him.

Lesmana grabbed the hen from his make-up chicken coop. “She could get some fresh air since we are going outside. You don’t mind, do you?” Lesmana asked. Kanthil just shrugged.

And that moment was the start of her journey to master the art of creature care. She started to take an interest in taking care of Lesmana’s pets: from his hen to his spider. Even after getting pecked here and there by the hen from annoying the feather creature too much or getting bitten by the spider from her recklessness in handling the eight-legged creature, she didn’t stop. In fact, she kept trying. It could be because she was bored from having no friends to play or she just had the interest, but she found the activity very exciting. She didn’t stop asking Lesmana even when he was occupied with study preparation, and Lesmana didn’t have any other option but to answer her to get his peace in his studying process. She was pretty diligent.

She started to expand her knowledge to the creatures she found near the woods. She started to pack her own food so she could share it with any creature she saw on her way. She understood that to get one’s heart, she should make their stomach full. And this often worked. With the addition of her talent to speak with the serpents, she had more knowledge in handling them. One of them even seemed attached to her and became her companion, Niskala.

Kanthil took great care of her snake. She knew every detail of Niskala’s habits and knew all his favourites. Even though they bickered sometimes, this didn’t make Niskala lose his respect and obedience to Kanthil. The snake turned Kanthil’s favour as her guardian, her extended eyes and eyes.

And that was how Kanthil got this talent, got the mastery to take care of the creatures that were attached to her.

It was Christmas holiday in her third year of school, Kanthil was home, looked depressed. Aryamurti, who saw this, asked his dear daughter, “What’s wrong?”

Kanthil threw herself onto the sofa across her father’s seat and fell onto her mother’s lap. “My wand acts weird. Really weird. My spells aren’t good, no matter how hard I train myself in spellcasting. Even with a simple first-year spells!” She whined. The girl put her head on her mother’s shoulder.

“Weird…” Larasati said. “Let me check it.” So Kanthil pulled her wand and gave it to her mother. The mother checked the wand thoroughly. “No scar. It looks perfect.” She cast some spells, and it works well. When Kanthil did the same incantation, she needed to cast it multiple times, no matter how accurate her incantation and wand movement.

Aryamurti also did the same. The wand works well in his hand. “We should get you a new wand. Sadly, something made you detached from your own wand. I have a friend. We can meet him next week,” he said.

“Next week?” Kanthil whined. “You don’t remember we will go back to Simbah’s house next week?” They went silent. “I can go to the place tomorrow. You can tell me the address. I also want to buy some things.” Of course, this wasn’t accepted at first. After some persuasion, Kanthil got her permission to go alone.

And so she was in the wand shop the next day. The shop owner has been contacted by Aryamurti. She was greeted well. They began the process.

Of course, it started from Unicorn Hair, the same core of her previous wand. Three failures from three wands already proved to them that the core doesn’t suit her. Then they tried Dragon Heartstring with many kinds of dragon types, not really effective. The next was the cores from the serpents. Even though they worked well, the shop owner isn’t satisfied with the result. Then her wild brain led them to try the wand of a Rougarou’s core and Rosewood wood.

To her surprise, the wand suited Kanthil the most. However, she wondered, why was her core really different from her parents. Rougarou was known for its affinity for dark arts. She could only wonder.

“Thank you, Ma’am,” Kanthil said after giving her the money from her pocket. She left the shop with a wide smile, and left the shopkeeper with many things to wonder.

Core: Rougarou (329)
Dark magic. The topic that most people would avoid, no matter what. But this wasn’t the case for Kanthil. Dark Magic intrigued the girl. Not in the form of the harm and damage that it could cause, but something more peculiar than most people might think about the art.

The girl saw beauty in the Dark Arts.

She studied the art, understanding the mechanism and the cost of the practice. Jinxes, Hexes, and Curses were the easiest since she learned them at school. She understood the basics of each Dark Charm and could cast them easily. But she didn't limit herself. She also studied the art from her cultural roots. From Susuk to the dangerous Santet, she read them from the book slowly in the library of her grandparents whenever she visited them on holiday. She read them, of course, in silence, without proper support and facility from her family since they weren't adept in the art. Slowly but surely, she gained the knowledge of the art and deepened her journey to its mastery. Though she could get the knowledge only without being able to practice them due to time and source limitations for now, she wouldn't stop learning them. Her determination, dedication, and interest in the Dark Arts would lead her to a broader chance to get better resources, which again, sadly, she couldn't get for now. As the years pass, Kanthil may steadily develop greater mastery of the Dark Arts across various magical disciplines. Perhaps, one day, she may become an expert, or even one of the most brilliant witches in the field of the Dark Arts. No one would know where the future will lead her.

Perhaps this was what the core saw in her, something that would be flatly rejected by her former wand core, Unicorn Hair. Very unexpected, it was, especially looking at her family background. Unpredictable, even from the close family members. Slowly, they would get used to the peculiar taste of Kanthil.

Wood: Rosewood (87)
Beauty was one of her strong suits. Everything about her seemed graceful. From the way she walked and sat to the movement of her slender hands, every gesture carried a quiet elegance. This was all the result of her mother’s nurture. Besides of the beauty, it seemed the wand also saw the line of divination aptitude from her, the trait that probably was passed on from her father.

Together with the Rougarou core, this wood would help Kanthil to calm anything unpredictable that happened from the wand.

Length: 28 cm (65)
The length suited Kanthil the best. Not too short, yet not too long either. She wasn’t a flashy person who would show off everything she had. She kept some things hidden for her own benefit. However, she also wasn’t the reserved type. One or two people were enough to witness her secretive side, the side of her that quietly planted fear or admiration within others.

Flexibility: Flexible (71)
Kanthil is indeed very adaptable. Her ability to adapt to a new environment is top-notch. She has keen eyes for changes; she was quick to pivot from her former direction to get into something safer or even better, something that could bring her benefits. She didn’t turn a blind eye to changes; in fact, she’s very aware. She grasps little changes and includes them in her process to make a decision.

Note: Simbah = grandparents in Javanese

Claire has always been pretty to look at. She made a pretty toddler, in a sky blue dress and thick blond hair. Everyone thought that she was cute, and her parents loved to show her off to their friends. She would toddle after her parents begging, with her high voice and limited vocabulary to be picked up. Guests were charmed and encouraged the young Claire to sit on their laps. But, as she grew older, people stopped noticing her as much. She went to public school, and most kids don't care how other kids look. Claire wasn't snubbed or anything; she didn't remember being focused on when she was a toddler. Her parents taught her humility and humbleness, so she never really felt that people should praise and make a big deal over her beauty. She is always pleasantly surprised to be complimented. And, once Louis and Paul were born, her brothers were the cutest things around, so guests didn't compliment the kid; they complimented the twin babies. Clare didn't feel snubbed that much, as said before, because she didn't remember being the center of attention. Her only knowledge of it is memories her parents share. And, Claire didn't have any close friends, who would complement her. She was too busy spending a lot of time in her parents library learning charms to impress her parents. But, more recently at Beauxbatons, people her age are beginning to notice her appearance more. People are growing up. Boys don't find girls gross anymore. Other girls are getting less jealous. Everyone is maturing, and so is Claire. Claire's classic Caucasian blond hair/blue eyes look is getting more stunning as she is growing up. She has just about always had good picking of flower stud earrings. Her hair has gotten shinier. She is better at fashion than she used to be. She is learning the world of makeup. Claire has gotten more lovely, and other students have grown up enough to admit it. Claire is also a good person inside too. She is kind to those less fortunate. She is just about always polite and well mannered too. Claire is also a broom racer, proving the classic theme of feminine sports. Boys sometimes are shy in Claire's presence, or are in awe of how good a person she is. Girls give a "you go, girl" style high five to her, or ask for fashion and/or beauty advice. Claire is beautiful inside and out, and most of her fellow students are willing to admit it, even if it is a stare, a thumbs up, a blush, or a mumbled compliment.