Charms Lesson 2: We're Going Down Down

Friday, January 20, 1922
Charms classroom
3:17 PM

"Again."

The classroom was filled with shouts of 'Descendo' and the crash of iron balls slamming into the cushioned stone flooring. Each time they went crashing down, they immediately flew back to their spots in the ceiling.

"Power, precision, concentration." Not all the students had gotten their balls to budge. Some had remained pressed into the ceiling since the moment the exercise began. Those were the students whose spells failed either because they lacked the power to counter the ball's weight or the concentration to prevent it from suddenly zipping back up before it could hit the mark on the ground. Not all struggled, however. There were many students who were getting along with the tasks just fine – if you excused the one overzealous Hufflepuff whose ball had actually managed to make a dent in the floor.

It was only one of several points of damage, he was sure. When the lesson ended, Maddox would have a final survey of the classroom and right it all.

For now.

"Again."

CLUNK!

Maddox moved between the students, careful not to walk in the path of the Xs that had been clearly marked in red along the ground. When the lesson had started, the professor had been sure to warn the students to not step on them. There was no curse or sudden trigger that would go off if they did, but he'd rather not have any hapless or oblivious student wandering into the range of someone else's crushing metal ball. There was plenty of walking space between the two neatly made rows the students had formed.

"Try a firm stance as you loop the wand to bring it down," he said as he walked by one student. He adjusted the elbow width in relation to the student's torso of another by pulling their arm outward as he walked by.

"You're not concentrating; you see how the ball keeps scrambling for the ceiling?"

He continued on.

"Good, good. Once more." He waited for the final casts and all balls to shoot back to the ceiling before he addressed the class. "Alright," Maddox said, coming to a stop in the centre between the pair of rows. He turned to look at those on the left then those on the right. "Wands down, I don't need anyone misfiring." No one was standing on an X that he could see, but on the off chance someone's feet did cause them to wander, he wouldn't have them crushed by a ball approximately half their size and triple their weight.

"You won't always be bringing down such heavy targets, but it helps to not have limp wristed casting should the time ever come."

Nothing worse than magic unable to sustain your intent.

"You've done well. Before we move on, what challenges did you experience at the start of the exercise, and how did you feel them progressing as you practiced?"

The balls weighed a lot. Nearly none of them had been able to get them to so much as budge when he'd first told them to give it a try. That hadn't stopped them. Many were resilient and were soon able to bring the balls crashing down with some effort.

Not everyone, but there was room for those students to reflect, too.

---

OOC: Welcome, welcome, to the second charms lesson of the term! This lesson starts in the middle of the action with the lesson already on its way. Please assume your student has been there the whole time unless they were deliberately late and willing to face consequences. Maddox has asked a question at the end but I'd like you to RP them going through the drill, practicing as Maddox instructs, trying to move their balls, immersing yourself in the scene. Success or failure is up to you, but your post should encompass all that, not just the end. Are they exhausted from how hard the professor is driving them--he's been relentless since they began. Are they frustrated? Driven to keep up with his orders? Feel free to be any of the students he corrected as well. I leave that all up to you. The class will move again on February 7. Can't wait to read your posts!

"Again."

Benji was accustomed to drills and pushing himself further and harder no matter how well or poorly he did. Since his first year at Hogwarts, it was all but rammed into his head that practice, consistency and repetitive spell-casting was what furthered his abilities.

He'd never appreciated the method - or the professor that had forced the issue, considering he was often up for punishment when he failed - but the idea of it all had been ingrained and he was better for it.

Professor Barlowe's methods while similar for this lesson, weren't the same. The repetitiveness was there, yes, but the threats and screaming weren't.

They were working with descendo, lowering heavy iron balls from the ceiling to the floor while the resistance fought against them. And for some fucking reason, Benji was having the hardest time. The ball would budge - once it had crashed to the floor with an overzealous attempt - but wouldn't move more than a couple inches before righting itself back against the ceiling.

It was frustrating, especially noticing the way others seemed to make easy work of theirs. Charms had never been an issue for the Hufflepuff, and it didn't make sense why he couldn't seem to get this one.

"You're not concentrating; you see how the ball keeps scrambling for the ceiling?"

Of course he saw. Benji's eyes hadn't moved from the ruddy sphere since the moment he'd first cast. He was concentrating! The shit just didn't want to move. "Descendo!" he cast again, frustration lacing his voice as he kept his eyes centered on the iron ball. A tremble, a slight wiggle. Nothing.

"You've done well. Before we move on, what challenges did you experience at the start of the exercise, and how did you feel them progressing as you practiced?"

"Professor, I only managed to bring it down once," Benji said, his face flushed from the exertion - and embarrassment - of the drill. "Something's wrong with my wand."

It was the only explanation. It certainly wasn't him or his abilities.

Again.

Again.

Again.

Didn't the man know any other words? They'd been at it for the last fifteen minutes or so, and her wand arm was starting to complain from the strain. The whole thing was starting to feel a lot more like resistance training than charms class and while Rae appreciated the professor trying to keep her in shape, not constantly pulling against a stubborn metal ball would be great.

Hers moved, eventually. The first cast or two had barely seen it budge, but by the third time, the ball had smacked into the X with satisfying force. Rae thought for sure that would've been the end of things and was pretty damn proud of herself for having managed the feat when Professor Barlowe chimed in with his infernal 'again', as if that first success wasn't hard enough! It wasn't a difficult spell to cast, not really, but the ball's weight and resistance were putting her through it, requiring more of the spell for her than if she were just pulling down a curtain or a chandelier or something.

The professor adjusted her elbow as he walked by, and nothing could irritate her more, given how much she was hoping he was bringing them to a stop. No such luck, just a call to continue.

Rae sighed heavily as she watched the ball zip back to its spot on the ceiling.

"Descendo!"

The ball tugged against her magic, stubbornly wanting to remain fixed to the wall. She scowled, taking aim again. "Descendo!" she commanded. The blue light shot from her wand, bright and filled with the girl's fury. She watched the ball be ripped violently from the roof, stopping mere inches from the ground before breaking free and flying upward.

"Alright."

FINALLY.

"Wands down, I don't need anyone misfiring."

Rae let her hand fall to her side, giving the muscles a much-needed rest. She rotated her shoulder a few times, taking the opportunity to flex her fingers and loosen her grip while she listened.

"You've done well. Before we move on, what challenges did you experience at the start of the exercise, and how did you feel them progressing as you practiced?"

"The hell are those balls made of anyway, sir? Mine wouldn't budge for shit until I got aggressive. Even then, sometimes it still didn't go all the way down." Pause. "I guess it got a little easier for a while, but then my arm started getting tired, then it felt almost like I was the one forcing the ball down myself."

As tough a beater as she was, the task was proving tougher.

Nothing, again. Not a budge, again.

The ball stuck to the ceiling had not moved once, not so much as a wiggle. It had stubbornly remained in place as though there had been a mistake made almost two years ago, and Maevie wasn't a witch at all.

Because each time she spoke the incantation, death grip on her wand and eyes straining from staring at the ball with unblinking intent, absolutely nothing happened.

Maevie wasn't one to feel disheartened quickly but fifteen minutes of unrewarded struggle about did it. Especially when the students around her were doing so much better than she was.

With an exhausted sigh she dropped her arm, shaking the strain from her muscles as she looked around the room.

"Again."

A series of fiercely spoken spells and the overlapping clunks of metal pounding into stone echoed through the room. Slowly they rose again, settling high above their heads before the professor's demand rang through the room once more.

Someone across from where she stood in line with her peers was looking almost as dejected as she felt and Maevie tried to smile in encouragement, nodding once. As though to embolden them both to try again, even if the results were likely going to be the same.

When Professor Barlowe's instructed them with his ceaseless "Again", Maevie lifted her aching arm with a sigh and pointed at the immovable force clinging to the ceiling. She pulled on all the determination she could scrape together. "Descendo!", she tried again, putting all her concentration into her intent but as expected...Nothing.

She couldn't help the annoyed groan but thankfully they were getting a break as Professor Barlowe motioned for them to lower their wands, asking about what had been challenging and how they had progressed.

"All of it was challenging and nothing progressed," Maevie chimed in, trying to keep the unhappiness with her performance out of her voice but there was a slight wobble to it nonetheless. Her hands absentmindedly twirled the wand in her hands. Swallowing once, voice dipping, she added, "It was like I couldn't do magic at all."

"Again."

Practice was definitely needed. The first half of the lesson the ball barely budged. A wiggle here, a jerk towards the floor there, but it never fell more than a few inches. It was like moving a canon ball with a toothpick.

“Descendo!”

It descended maybe a foot, then popped back up. Tilly stood in her spot, her head fell back with a groan. She was getting nowhere. Rolling out her shoulders, Tilly wiped her hands on her skirt to get rid of the sweat before trying again.

"Try a firm stance as you loop the wand to bring it down.”

Tilly nodded, moving her feet apart, anchoring herself to the floor. With a deep breath Tilly waved her wand in the practiced motion and said again “Descendo!”

That one was MUCH better. Maybe the practice was finally paying off. "Wands down, I don't need anyone misfiring."

Tilly did as instructed, then grabbed a hair tie from her wrist, tying her hair up into a messy bun to get it off her neck. She was working up a sweat.

"You've done well. Before we move on, what challenges did you experience at the start of the exercise, and how did you feel them progressing as you practiced?"

Listening to the other students answer, Tilly waited her turn. “Everytime I cast I wobbled with the force of bringing the ball down. Once I widened my stance it helped a lot.” If the rest of the class was more practice, she would need some water. The over and over again motion was exhausting.

"Professor, I only managed to bring it down once. Something's wrong with my wand."

"This late in the game," the boy now in his fifth year, "we'd have to consider several factors long before laying blame with your wand." If the boy's wand hadn't taken to him in all that time or had 'something wrong', as Benji suggested, it would be far more evident than anything he was experiencing. While he was sure it was some time back, Maddox thought perhaps the boy might remember how his first wand fitting had gone. He must have held several that didn't choose him before running into one that did.

Once the bond started to form, there would be clues should it start to wane.

"How does the wood feel in your hand? What does the magic feel like as it leaves your wand?"

While it was the least likely problem, it was the easiest to rule out.

"The hell are those balls made of anyway, sir? Mine wouldn't budge for shit until I got aggressive. Even then, sometimes it still didn't go all the way down. I guess it got a little easier for a while, but then my arm started getting tired, then it felt almost like I was the one forcing the ball down myself."

"An astute observation, Elliot. We'll touch more on that in a bit, but I'm glad you were able to notice the difference as the exercise went on."

Whether the girl knew it or not—and she likely didn't—she'd actually hit on one of the points for the afternoon.

"All of it was challenging and nothing progressed. It was like I couldn't do magic at all."

Maddox offered Golding a small, uncomfortable smile, uncertain how to respond at first. The Hufflepuff was hardly his worst student, but there was a pattern forming within the girl that, if not addressed, could spell trouble for her confidence and later spellcasting ability.

"That's alright, too. Some spells take longer than others, especially when trying to counter other instances of magic. The important thing is to keep trying, but," because this was equally important. Life wasn't a fairytale, and effort, noble as it was, sometimes wasn't enough. "There are other things we need to take into consideration when casting. We'll review those shortly, then see if we can't get your ball down."

Or try to at least.

“Everytime I cast I wobbled with the force of bringing the ball down. Once I widened my stance it helped a lot.”

"Good," Maddox said. "People don't always consider the finer details in spellcasting. Bad posture, poor grip. In a pinch, they could be the difference between deflecting a sudden assault and being splattered into a wall.

[b]"There's a lot more that goes into spells than wand waving," Maddox continued, turning to address the entire class now.

"Brief review; there might be a test. The key to the art of spellcasting in charms boils down to three variables. Incantation, wand movement and concentration – which involves a great deal of willpower. It's not enough to wave a wand and half-heartedly mutter a spell. You must mean it. You must feel it. Your intention must be undeniably clear, lest you run the risk of having the wrong sort of magic leave your wand or nothing at all. Wand movement, casting form, important. A loose flick when you need a sharp swish, poor balance that leaves you unstable as the magic bursts from your wand – these things make a difference."

He turned his gaze briefly to Nordstrom then Elliot. "Some of you already noticed physical effects of continuous casting. Better footing making a difference, fatigue making the spells less effective – but strong emotion making them more so. None of those are coincidences."

With a wave of his wand, the small basket that had been sitting on his desk since the start of the lesson drifted over. It came to a stop by his feet, revealing a cache of oversized eggs.

"Everyone grab one."

From beneath his desk, the man summoned a second basket, this one full of art supplies. There were tins of paint, brushes, sprinkles, colourful mini feathers, markers, sticks of glue and googly eyes. This box came to a stop by the first one containing the eggs. In the periphery, Maddox moved the desks back into place. "Take whatever you need. Before we move onto the next portion of this lesson, I'd like you to decorate these eggs. Make them however you'd like; give them whatever faces suit you – one egg per student, no exceptions."

It mattered.

"If you've got a bit of extra time on your hands and are so inclined, give the egg a background. Does it have a family? Is it a bit of a loner?" That part...mattered less, but some students may have found that it gave them extra...incentive when the time came.

He waved the students back to their seats. The professor waited until they were all seated and in a better position for him to continue his lecture.

"Sit, get to work. While you do, there's something else I'd like you to consider. Earlier, we touched briefly on the art of spellcasting and what's required, but those aren't the only variables. Your level of skill matters. Natural aptitude toward magic. Wand allegiance. How bonded are you with your wand? Does it even like you? Does it resist you at every turn? If the wand hasn't given you its allegiance, everything becomes infinitely harder. Lastly, your emotional state at the time of casting. Elliot mentioned becoming frustrated and aggressive. That directly translated to more power behind her cast, allowing her magic to tug harder against the magic I placed on the balls. You don't all need to develop anger management problems," he'd genuinely prefer if they didn't, "it's simply one of many ways that emotion can influence output."

Maddox enchanted a stick of white chalk to get the information jotted down on the board for quick reference. Busy as they should've been decorating their eggs, he understood they wouldn't be in a position to also write.

"We'll be moving on shortly. Don't spend too long on those eggs. If anyone has any questions, now's the time to ask."

---

OOC: Update 2 is here! Phew! A lot of talking, and I'm soooo sorry, but really you just have to have them listening while they claim and decorate and add some personality to their egg. Of course, if they have any comments or questions, they're free to ask/offer them up. I'll be looking to move the class along again around February 11.

Tilly listened closely. Professor Barlowe said a lot in his lesson, some things being more important than others that would help a lot in the lesson. On more than one occasion she had heard a snippet of something, used the info, and cast better because of it.

She wasn’t well known for paying attention, but there was a first time for everything. Suddenly a basket full of eggs appeared. Ok… Ummm… Why?

Now her interest was definitely perked. Going up and picking an egg, just one, she took it and then gathered an array of art supplies. How this class turned into arts and crafts was beyond her. This was very un-Barlowe type behavior. Were those feathers? GLITTER? What the hell?

Tilly went back to her desk, supplies in hand and looked at her egg. Waiting for it to tell her [i]who[/u] it was. Did it have googly eyes? A feather crown? Maybe some evil red eyes?

Nope… her egg wasn’t evil.

With the pain in hand, Tilly began crafting a face on the egg, It was large enough to allow for some detail, so after putting the eyes, nose and mouth she went into the fun stuff. She tore off pieces of the green feathers for eyelashes, then painted green hair running down the back of the egg. The eyes were purple , because why not. Next, she used the markers to draw vines running along the shell, peppering the vines with small colorful flowers.

While decorating the egg, she started thinking of a backstory. It came to her like a rush of info, which helped a lot. It’s name was Ivy, and lived in the meadows around her home in Sweden. The egg was a happy sort, living in the meadow with other eggs, all different kinds of flowers or plants. She could see the other eggs in her head. A pink one named Rose. A blush one named Peony. A bright red one named Geranium. Lost in her head, thinking of plants, while painting an oversized Egg was not where she thought this charms lesson was going to take her.

Rae knew a lot of what the professor said or at least had heard about it in passing.

Back in her first year, her wand had given her the warmest time. It frequently sputtered and sparked. The man spoke about wand allegiance, and she didn't know about anyone else, but for her, it had taken time and trust. Rae had had to prove herself to her unyielding willow with its dragon heartstring and some days, depending on what she asked of it, there were still traces of that earlier opposition, but they were in a much better place once, anchored and fighting the same fights while chasing the same goals.

What had, at first, been an annoying quirk of her wand had become one of the things she most appreciated now. Unyielding, it wouldn't easily fall under the command of another. Its allegiance would be hard won by any who tried to take it from her.

Rae's brows arched when the professor summoned the basket of...uh...eggs.

"Isn't it a little early for Easter, professor?" she asked as the second basket full of art supplies came to rest by the eggs. They were barely through January, and the girl was certain that if she was dragged through the Oxford streets again, there would still be stores that lingered with their Christmas decorations. Well...maybe not. It was nearly February. Everything would soon be flooded with hearts and a ton of pink paraphernalia.

Either way, the eggs were a long way off. She wasn't complaining, though. After the last exercise, Rae would be happy to sit and make her egg super cute while her casting arm got some rest.

The Slytherin slid back into her seat by Benji and got to work. It went without saying that she would be dousing hers in pink. In fact, she drew her wand and, with a quick, silent 'colovaria', had the whole thing changed in seconds. It saved her the time the professor was harping on, not needing to wait for the paint to dry. Glitter was a must. Her egg would be the sparkliest and prettiest in the entire classroom.

Rae applied a generous amount, coating the egg so thoroughly that it became a little difficult to see the pink – but it was there, and it was glorious.

While she applied the googly eyes, Rae considered the sort of egg hers would be. Soft and gentle, she rationalised. A princess, a problem, one who was set to own lands and titles. Very soft, very elegant. She would need a name.

Rae pondered the name probably more than she pondered any of the things the man had written on the board.

It wasn't her fault. This was important.

She nodded quietly to Professor Barlowe's words, feeling a little better for it. She was pretty good at trying again, it's what she had been doing this entire lesson. Even if it hadn't gotten her anywhere, not visibly.

And anyway, something much more fun than practicing advanced spells was about to happen. Decorating eggs!

Maevie didn't question this unusual turn of events. Dejected mood gone and replaced with excited anticipation, she hopped to grab herself one of the eggs, some paint and brushes and a good handful of googly eyes. Equipped with all that she plopped down in her seat and began to decorate.

The lecture up front registered only faintly, drawing into the background as Maevie concentrated on the many colourful flowers she was painting all around the egg. They took up the entire surface, petals of purple and pink and yellow and red flowing into each other. Their middles were all a deep brown and on top Maevie glued a pair of googly eyes each. Some matched in size and some didn't.

And they all looked silly and fun when she shook the egg and their pupils wiggled about, landing in all the wrong angles. Maevie giggled with the effect, turning the thing in her hands and repeating the movement every few seconds.

They should definitely do this more often, she decided inwardly.

As for a background... She supposed hers wasn't lonely but a big family of flowers, living together in a field somewhere where it was nice and sunny. Sometimes it rained but the rain would always be warm and fresh, and then there would be rainbows.

Satisfied with that, Maevie nodded to herself and smiled. Just a happy, little family living in a place where nothing bad ever happened.

"This late in the game, we'd have to consider several factors long before laying blame with your wand. How does the wood feel in your hand? What does the magic feel like as it leaves your wand?"

"Uhh," it was the stall of idiots, but it was all he had as he glanced down at the stick in his hand that had never really steered him wrong before, "It feels like a wand." Was it supposed to feel like something else? If it was, he didn't know what. "And the magic feels kinda tingly like it always does, just less. Like when your foot kinda goes to sleep."

He sounded like an idiot, but it was the truth, he guessed.

"Some of you already noticed physical effects of continuous casting. Better footing making a difference, fatigue making the spells less effective – but strong emotion making them more so. None of those are coincidences."

That made sense didn't it? In the moments where Benji was the most emotional - whether it was anger, sadness or joy - his magic always felt more powerful. It made sense why he'd been able to cast a bombarda in the summer between second and third year, considering what he had been faced with in that desert.

The boy almost ran to the front to grab his egg and supplies, thrilled that for once a class was doing something he was genuinely good at. Art was Benji's outlet and he already knew he could paint circles around the rest of them. Plopping himself down at his desk, Benji got to work. Light blue all over and the thinnest brush to outline features in black paint. Wide round eyes, a straight nose, a half-grin. Some dark wavy hair on top.

Would he consider who the egg was? Someone he knew? Someone he had known? Someone completely made up? The boy sat, stumped, unsure all of a sudden where he wanted to go with this. He dipped his paintbrush into the brown paint, mixing it slightly with black to get a darker shade before gently filling in the irises. Heavy eyebrows, turned inwards to give the egg a sharper look.

Huh.

"How bonded are you with your wand? Does it even like you? Does it resist you at every turn? If the wand hasn't given you its allegiance, everything becomes infinitely harder."

Benji thought he was pretty bonded with his. They'd been through the ringer together, and while this lesson had turned out difficult, his wand had never let him down when it counted. It had protected him, and others when evil prevailed. It had turned him into a warrior in the moments he felt terrified, and it made a sort of loverboy out of him when he'd setup something romantic for his girl.

It had been a good partner to him over the years.

Apparently it just didn't want him descendo-ing iron balls from the ceiling.

"It feels like a wand. And the magic feels kinda tingly like it always does, just less. Like when your foot kinda goes to sleep."

"We'll hold off on casting blame on your wand then."

It wasn't the one malfunctioning, and he'd just covered a myriad of other reasons the boy could look into – in his free time – should he wish to.

Maddox moved back to his desk, where he leaned, his hands tucked casually in his pockets, while he watched the students work. The sound, or lack thereof, was music to his ears. It had taken some time and persistent indifference, but even the most obstinate among the students had learned the futility in complaint. It would serve no one and change nothing. This time, he suspected it had less to do with a lesson learned and more to do with a genuine enjoyment of the slower pace of the lesson.

It was true; the professor was a firm believer in "doing" in order to learn. Textbooks and abstract concepts could only carry you so far, and he'd always thought that a little pressure could go a long way in ensuring spells and other bits of information stuck. When it became necessary and applicable to one's life, one was less likely to forget it.

He could also offer rest, however briefly.

His eyes did the work his feet wouldn't, travelling across the room to take in the progress of the students. They were certainly taking their time, focusing more on the process than perhaps anything he'd said in the last five minutes. It didn't matter. The notes were there for anyone who chose to use them and would still be there when they got back.

Speaking of...

"Time to wrap it up," he said, launching off his desk and moving to stand in the middle of the room once more. To help those who had...difficulty transitioning or pausing when they'd really gotten into something, Maddox summoned all the supplies. Bit by bit, they zipped from the desks and back into the box from which they came. Now that he had their attention, "Everyone up. Take those darling eggs of yours with you. We'll be going on a bit of a...field trip." If it could truly be called that.

Moving over to the door, Maddox nudged it open, then waited for the students to join him.

"Nothing exotic or off the beaten path, just onto the grounds in search of the perfect place." He already had one in mind. "Step lively, we don't want half the lesson to be taken up with just walking." He led them out into the corridor and in the direction that would eventually take them to the large double doors in the entrance hall.

"As well as the other variables I've mentioned, there is a less talked about variable that has a sizable impact on the outcome of your spells. Control. It's not enough to fire off spells like a maniac, full of rage or euphoria. Such habits can quickly spell disaster. Take 'Descendo' as a prime example, though this applies universally. Carelessly casting it can have dire consequences. Can you think of any, either for this spell or another? What's the true function of control or restraint when we employ magic? What are the costs when we don't?"

The aim wasn't only to teach them spells but also how to be responsible wielders of magic, ones who understood the weight and consequence each time they uttered an incantation.

---

OOC: Mini-field trip time! Grab your eggs and head for the door. The professor is taking the students on a trip through the castle. While they walk, he's asked them to consider the question of control. This doesn't have to be limited to the spell (as stated), but with all forms of spellcasting and even daily life if your character is feeling particularly philosophical. They can answer aloud or simply contemplate. It's all up to you and how your character would operate in such a setting. The destination is unclear, but assume they're walking the whole time, and, if you'd like, they will eventually end up outside should your character want to react to that. I'll be back with the final update (not the closer) on or around February 16.

Tilly, surprisingly, got into the art project. Her egg, Ivy, was full of details… or as many as Tilly was able to manage with her limited art abilities and time allowed.

All the same, she really liked her little egg. It made her think fondly of her baby from Applied Magic. Nevermind, the lack of sleep she got during her week with Herby was nothing but negative.

When Professor Barlowe called for them to follow on a short field trip, Tilly shook her head. Nothing about this portion of the lesson was normal for Barlowe. Arts and crafts, FEATHERS, a mild field trip that hopefully wouldn’t engage them in dangerous spellcasting. Nope. Very strange.

"As well as the other variables I've mentioned, there is a less talked about variable that has a sizable impact on the outcome of your spells. Control. It's not enough to fire off spells like a maniac, full of rage or euphoria. Such habits can quickly spell disaster. Take 'Descendo' as a prime example, though this applies universally. Carelessly casting it can have dire consequences. Can you think of any, either for this spell or another? What's the true function of control or restraint when we employ magic? What are the costs when we don't?"

Cradling her egg, Ivy in her arms as they walked down the stairs and through the doors. The cold of January hitting her hard. Taking in the questions he asked while feeling the weight of her new friend something clicked into place. Control. ‘Carelessly casting it can have dire consequences.’

Awwwwwwww MAN. Stopping in her tracks, looking at Barlowe with concern and disgust. “Professor. You’re going to make us expose our eggs to danger aren’t you? If you don’t have control you can potentially hurt someone or something. Those are the ‘dire consequences’ you speak of.”

Well that was just rude. Stroking her hand down Ivy’s shell, Tilly looked at Professor Barlowe with a new level of disdain.

Wrapping her scarf around her neck and stuffing her hands into a thick pair of gloves, knitted hat pulled deep into her face, Maevie hurried to catch up with the departing class.

A field trip sounded like another great turn of events, no matter the weather. The January cold was biting even throughout the castle's hallways, seeping in through stone and glass but it didn't manage to bother her. It was the one time a year that Maevie wasn't arriving to class just on time but with a good few minutes to spare. The cold positively chased her onto punctuality.

Outside the castle the cold was real fun though, as long as there was snow. Snow was always worth the cold and Scotland provided plenty of it.

Carefully carrying her egg in both hands, googly eyes bouncing with every step, Maevie kept pace with the professor's long, quick strides, already warming up in her winter gear. She considered his questions, the necessity for control when casting. She already knew this to be an important factor, the stain on her dorm's ceiling still reminded her of that every day.

"Too much power behind a spell can burn your bed's curtains to ash in a few minutes when all you wanted to do was light a candle," Maevie offered without hesitation. "Or it can smash the cauldron full of water you were trying to levitate across the room straight into the wall and dent it while everyone gets sprayed." That might have happened to her also.

"Control makes it so that our wand does what we actually want it to do. It has to be intentional instead of aimless bursts of magic." It was something she had been working on since her return to the castle last September. After she hadn't used magic at all for several months, control had been completely off the table. The few easy spells she had learned during her first year had been nothing short of catastrophic for a good few weeks until she had finally mastered the flow of magic.

She was better now, although the occasional accident still occurred in moments of thoughtlessness and inattention.

"Time to wrap up."

But she wasn't done. There was still more personality to be introduced to her egg, still more life she had to plan. The face needed to be just right. It wasn't enough to slap googly eyes on and call it a day. Was there makeup, or would she have to get creative with the markers? Lipstick was a mu-

"Hey!"

In a flash, all her supplies spirited themselves away, returning to their places in the professor's boxes. It was just like him: get them started on something they might actually like, then try to yank them back into doing real classwork. Rae hadn't even gotten the time to name her egg. She hadn't decided whether she was a college girl or would be heading directly into the work world. Was she going to have a family – GASP – she was going to have a love child for an older married man, someone corporate.

Rae got to her feet, following the professor and the others while she thought through the rest of the story. Vaguely, she was aware of the professor talking about control.

"Carelessly casting it can have dire consequences."

Well, wasn't that the truth?

She was curious about their destination. The fact they were walking meant it wouldn't be another portkey adventure. Shame. High stakes as they could sometimes be, Rae found she preferred those lessons. They made the magic matter in a way that classroom practice never could. Changing subjects also hadn't changed the man's mind on how much danger could be considered 'appropriate' which the girl could also appreciate.

"Control's not just so you don't destroy other things and people either," Rae added, happy enough to be leaving the classroom regardless of where they ended up. "If you're not careful, you could end up blowing yourself up or otherwise having your magic backfire on you in ways you can't undo." Like with him, but she knew better than to say as much.

"Wasn't there a wizard that ended up having that happen?"

She wasn't the best at wizarding history or a lot of the theory within the lessons, but she was good at remembering details that entertained her, and that certainly fell into that category.

Out into the crisp January air they went. There was a stiff wind blowing from the east, making the temperature feel colder than it already was. Nothing a few warming charms and some winter wear couldn't solve, and brisk as they were walking, the students were sure to generate some heat.

“Professor. You’re going to make us expose our eggs to danger, aren’t you? If you don’t have control you can potentially hurt someone or something. Those are the ‘dire consequences’ you speak of.”

"Oh ye of little faith," he quoted, tutting at Nordstrom for her apt recognition of where the lesson was going. He supposed it was a testament to the time they'd shared together since he became their professor. Not only had his students learned that whining got them nowhere. They'd also come to know that not many things were ever truly 'safe' in his lesson unless they could make them so themselves.

Bless, they were learning.

"Too much power behind a spell can burn your bed's curtains to ash in a few minutes when all you wanted to do was light a candle. Or it can smash the cauldron full of water you were trying to levitate across the room straight into the wall and dent it while everyone gets sprayed."

...

.....

Just...

"Why do you know that?" For a moment, the man looked perturbed. Just what was the girl getting up to in her free time? Spell practice, it sounded like, but...just...how?

"Never mind." It was probably better that he didn't know. "You're correct. If you'd like your wand doing what you would like and not what its own mind is telling it, control is something you'll want to gain quickly. The curtain fires of today are the forest fires of tomorrow if not corrected."

"Control's not just so you don't destroy other things and people either. If you're not careful, you could end up blowing yourself up or otherwise having your magic backfire on you in ways you can't undo."

"Also correct." He said, bringing them to a stop beneath the headmaster's tower. "We get so caught up in the devastation we can cause to our surroundings that we sometimes forget we're not immune to the storms we raise. Standing behind the wand is as dangerous a position to be in without adequate control."

"Wasn't there a wizard that ended up having that happen?"

"As for the wizard..." his lips tugged upward in a faint smirk. "I reckon you just got yourself some homework. I expect a full report next Tuesday before the lesson begins. I'm sure your classmates will be interested." And the girl could stand to improve her theory. Spellwork wasn't the only portion of the OWLs. Elliot would have to know real things outside of incantations and wand movements.

She could thank him later.

"Now then," with a flick of his wand, Maddox summoned all their eggs. With a swish, he sent them skyward. Up, up, up they went, until they floated just beneath the window to the headmaster's office. "Let's move on to a more practical application of control. You've built a life for your eggs – some of you. You've taken the time to make them who they are. It's an awful long way down, and the spell isn't known for its gentle touch." As they could surely remember from the way some of their balls had slammed into the floor.

"I'd like you to guide your egg to land comfortably on the ground. You'll only have one shot, I'm afraid. Eggs can be...fragile things. Take a moment before you begin; if you need to, be sure to clear your mind and concentrate. Focus your intent; have the outcome clear in your mind."

He stepped aside, not wanting to be in the splattering range should things not go as intended.

"Begin."

---

OOC: Sorry for the delay! I haven't been well the last few days <3 We're onto the final update before I close the lesson. Maddox has taken your eggs hostage. They now float precariously above the Headmaster's tower. Your student will try to get them down. The result is yours to decide, keeping in mind they've just spent a good portion of the lesson requiring excessive force for the same spell. Was it easy to adjust? Do they struggle abit? Does it end well for the egg? I can't wait to see! I'll drop the closing post around February 21.