Today, the sun had started long on the horizon and hung brightly in the sky. The dark long shadows of the October air crossed the grounds in graceful black lines, but hidden behind dark drapes one would not even know the daylight existed inside the Charms Classroom this day. Nightingale, pulled tightly the heavy fabric over the long windows, and sealed the room completely from the rest of the school. Candles, one by one lined the walls, casting shadows over the dark stones while scented oils filled the space with the rich scent of eastern lands.

Seated at the head of the classroom he waited patiently with his eyes closed behind dark lashes as he prepared himself mentally for this class—one he himself thought to truly be something to suffer. With spells that could kill, spells that could turn to stone, and some that could even produce water—he truly felt the ones that played with a man’s mind to be the worst.

Memories could be the key to undoing nearly every aspect of a person’s faith. With a single thought back of darker times a push towards destruction could tear even the brightest mind apart, while a thought of happier times could see a victory.

An education isn't how much you have committed to memory, or even how much you know. It's being able to differentiate between what you know and what you don't.~Anatole France

On the board behind him, a quote from the Muggle world, but one he kept close to his heart. The balance between right and wrong could easily be undone with such a charm, and even the brightest of Wizards could find themselves a completely lost.

“Good morning,” He spoke in that silver sounding voice of his, quiet yet teetering somewhere between his sanity and madness. “Please take a seat so that we may get started.” He sealed the room for many reasons, but would wait to give his explanations when everyone settled.

-----

OOC: Pardon this thread, it's my first class, and if I did/do anything wrong please PM me.

My goal for this class is to actually have students bond on a personal level, and learn a bit of memory. So if you are having IC friction with another character THIS is a perfect class to attend.

Heinrich had to admit that the charms professor had a flair for the dramatic.  The dark room, lit only by the candles lent an air of mystery to the class.  He found himself mildly excited about where this class was going and grinned, amused that he could be so easily enticed.  He found a chair in the second row.  He would have preferred a front row seat but thought it rude to usurp what he saw as the privilege of the host school's students to occupy the best seats.

Then the professor spoke and Heinrich's smile widened.  Either the man was a consummate actor or he was bordering on being a total loon.  Either way, the class was going to be amazing.

Luckily, it was a short, quick sprint from Ancient Runes a floor below to the Charms classroom - no where near the mad dash that accompanied going from the Astronomy tower down to the History of Magic classroom at the end of the day.  But, a little hustling was necessary if one had back to back classes. 

But, Sasha reached the Charms classroom in relatively decent time and slipped in shortly behind Heinrich.  He nodded in greeting to their new professor and started towards his usual desk by the window when he spotted the quote on the board.  He recognized it - well, the name at least.  He'd come across the poet a few times in his 'muggle life,' especially back as a fourth year when he'd pretended he was studying European Literature at school. 

Sasha hesitated in his tracks, reading the quote several times over before glancing curiously (and slightly cautiously) at the professor.  His mouth worked, briefly, as he considered commenting.  Or asking a question.  But, he decided against it and finished the trek to his seat. 

He understood the quote, of course.  And, didn't necessarily disagree with it.  He was just a little worried what it might have to do with ... well, Charms.  To the academically-driven Ravenclaw, the various options that came to mind were more than slightly disconcerting.  They weren't going to be learning about spells that force someone to admit how much they didn't know, were they? 

Nobody had even thought it was possible. After all, Ligeia Canterbury did not normally gush about matters of the heart, unless she had one cut out from a warm body to demonstrate advanced healing techniques as compared to muggle surgery. She wasn't that much of her father's youngest daughter, a Wizengamot member who contributed heavily to the paperwork with his own marriage and divorce contracts.

But it had happened.

Ligeia was in love.

She knew the moment she fully contemplated Professor Nightingale Kesali. The name, ooh, how it rolled off the tongue. And Nightingale himself, not noir as his name would suggest. Skin, like hers, pale as mooncalf milk, hair a silken gossamer. A haunted look that could beat out Zel Trumble's if his had time to mature. The faintest blush of peach on those lips. How terribly tragic for his lost eye! Cultured and exquisite, as if she and him had been ripped from the same cloth. He was like a character from one of her many times read tomes of literature. Such as a line from a ballroom tale...

...who is that man over by the punch bowl. That fascinating man. That man who makes me quiver under my bodice...

Curse the school uniforms for marring romantic potential!

Ligeia thought the Charms classroom never looked better than it did now, so matching her fashion and decor, another trait they shared. So she parked her parasol up front where she could see the professor, ocular distortions be damed if she was going to sit far away where he would be out of her sight. She sat ready to learn, mouth lined with the rare pink but her eyeshadow darker than ever, where the smile filled with gleaming teeth could beam at Professor Nightingale Kesali such as the moon reflected light from the sun.

BUT! To have a schoolgirl crush on a professor! Shame and scandal should anything come of it though it added that forbidden allure. For her eyes the professor could be no more attractive, except if he ever died and came back undead. Not as a vampire, though, that would be too much and rather...predictable.

Suffice to say, Ligeia was simply dying to meet him. Perhaps literally.

Having spent the last few hours between Muggle Studies and this class in the library skimming through her reading for their week, Raine had rather enjoyed stretching her legs on the walk down to Charms. It was unfortunate that they were probably not going to get much further exercise until after lunch.

The Gryffindor drifted into the room following the pair of Ravenclaws ahead of her before dropping into a seat in the front row with a glum sigh, gaze shifting from their pallid professor to the blackboard quotation. A fiery eyebrow went up drolly as she leaned back into her chair, tipping back against the table behind.

What you know and what you don't.

That was easier said than done. Sometimes, in memories, it was difficult to tell apart what is real and what is conjecture.  Most people probably subsisted on dramatized versions of their histories.

Raine couldn't see how this translated into a practical lesson but she had her wand out already, parchment and quill untouched on the desk. She glanced around, nodding at Sasha in greeting and trying not to notice Canterbury's slightly less morbid aura this morning. School was weird.

Figaro, as usual, could be heard before he was seen, and his chatter in the hallway today was about the differences between Quodpot and Quidditch and which was the better broomsport.  Figaro had his opinions, and his mates had theres and there was plenty of discussion about whose arguments implied a greater head-up-arse. 

He quieted a bit at the usual mild bottleneck around actually entering the Charms classroom - it was dark inside and the tone dropped dramatically.  Figaro grinned and made a show of looking around.  Never serious, he swaggered in and looked at the quietly meditating professor at his chair.  He was a very strange-looking Wizard.  Pale.  Young.  Pretty.  Odd.  There hadn't been much time to get a read on him, being a new professor and all. 

With the dim lights, entranced Professor, and the lonely quote on the board, Figaro dropped his talking to a muted whisper and found a seat behind Ligeia.  Who was... looking funny.

"Are you smiling?" he asked leaning forward.  "You fall face first into a Cheering Potion?"

Taryn wandered in on Figaro's tale, correcting the chatty Hufflepuff whenever he mixed up the Qudpot terminology. Broom sports weren't her thing, but she had a lot of friends on the Quodpot team and felt the need to establish the old game as a healthy alternative to its  European counterpart.

But her arguments died as they walked into the Charms class. Taryn's eyes trailed around the room, absorbing the odd new atmosphere and dramatic lighting. She gave an appreciative whistle, partially for the show, and partially for the Professor. Cute. Very cute. Mer-row.

From Ligeia Canterbury's dreamy expression, Taryn guessed she wasn't the only girl in class appreciating the view. She contemplated Engorging a desk and decided against it, in the hopes of getting a practical lesson rather than note-taking. Instead she settled onto the ground near the front of the room, propped her notebook on one knee, and leaned back against the wall to wait for whatever the cute professor had up his sleeve. Charms had always been one of the more interesting core classes, and this one looked to be even more interesting than most.

Xavier entered the darkened room with a scowl. The sudden change in atmosphere had him missing the essentric Professor Mustache and reminded him of when that little Irish bloke completely change the decor of the Divinations classroom. He hoped this was just for creating ambiance for the lesson at hand otherwise he was going to start falling asleep in class. In the hall he had been talking with Figaro and Taryn about the difference between the two broom sports, now in the classroom he took a desk closer to the Salem half giant than his usual one near the Hufflepuff loud mouth. Though he doubted he'd be able to fall asleep with Figaro gabbing in his ear he wanted to try and concentrate during class.

The quote on the board made him feeling uneasy. He figured most of those in the class (like Schlaganwagon or Almasy) would start equating the quote to their academic prowess which he supposed was it's intention but Xavier couldn't help but think of something a little more personal. There was nearly three months of his life (from Christmas to February of the previous year) wiped clean from his memory. He knew that his Grandfather had modified his memory and he was aware of a few details like having run away from school and breaking up with Bella via letter but most of those had been supplied by others. He couldn't help but dwell on what he didn't know about those few months versus what he did know.

When Gracie had slipped into the seat directly behind Raine that afternoon, she had been half-dead on her feet. Eyeliner had been smudged from rubbing her eyes, her cheek was red from being cupped for too long, long, easy strides had slowed to an indolent pace… All of it the price for skipping bedtime in favor of getting used to four legs, but it was one that the girl had known she would have to pay; there really wasn’t any other way to keep the whole thing a secret, unless she wanted to give the Ministry one more person to keep an eye on. 

Not, of course, that that was necessarily a bad thing or anything, but after years of sharing the same roof as her grandfather’s tempered (but no less active) paranoia, the thought didn’t sit too well with her at all. And so the Slytherin continued to stay up late, lurking around bathrooms and corridors, practicing practicing practicing…

It was also her standing reason why she had trouble paying attention to Charms this year, instead of… other things. This year’s Charms class was turning out to be a bit odd, to be honest, but at least it wasn’t Transfiguration.

Doing her best to at least look awake, Gracie unconsciously rested that same reddened cheek against the heel of her palm, trying to appear keen and interested and perky and failing; perkiness had never been her strong suit, and the other two were a moot point when its opposite threatened to have her slumping over the table. The shut curtains had her fighting to keep her own eyes open, the room too thick with scent. And at the moment the classroom seemed to be more conducive to hypnosis than a lecture or demonstration.

Listlessly, she stifled a yawn. Lunch couldn’t come fast enough.

   

Heinrich leaned over to Gracie.  "You look like you could use having an enervate cast on you," he said.  "Late night?"  He'd had only limited contact with the majority of the students at Hogwart's.  He'd spoken to one or two of them and his attempt to interact with one of the groups had ended in something just short of disaster.  Still, he wasn't going to give up.  He wouldn't be much of a candidate for tournament champion if he did.

"If you want, I'll take notes for you and give you a nudge if you're asked a question."

Demitria clicked into the room, looking like perfection. As always, was anything else expected of the top tier of the school? Her uniform was school-appropriate since it would just. not. do if she were to get in trouble. No need for a scandal so early in the year! She had spent the night in the Room of Requirement, but Kitty had made sure to drag her down to the common room after breakfast for a check-up. Strellie could count on her best friend to keep her sane. She didn't ask questions, just made sure that her second-in-command looked immaculate. Thus, no matter how her throat hurt or how tired she was, Strelnikov was the queen of any room Kitty was not in.

Choosing where to sit was simply a hassle. She wanted to sit near Xavier, but that was not an option, and Gracie looked dead on her feet. Did Livi not check her as thoroughly as Kitty? Huh. Being uncharacteristic, she took a seat in the general  area of the Gryffindor, Almasy. Didn't really know her well, but whatever. She needed new acquaintances anyway.

After the Russian had settled, she looked at the quote at the front of the class. Honestly, she didn't really care. She was here to learn charms, not solve the mysteries of the universe. She brushed her hair out her eyes and wished that last year's wonderful codgy old teacher would return. Between him and Storm, she had done well enough to get an O on her Charms OWL.   

Peyton wasn't too fond of the Charms classroom's new decor, nor was he swooning over their new Professor like all the girls appeared to be doing. He supposed he was just more drawn to manlier men, there was just something about Professor Kesali that he found off putting and unnerving, perhaps it was the eye patch or the complete lack of colour, either way he was no Professor Frasier (not even a Professor Jowd) Regardless Peyton needed to keep his grades up if he wanted to keep his Captaincy and not swooning over their Charming, Charms Professor was probably to his advantage.

He would have been talking about Quidditch in the corridor with Raine and Taryn had it not been for his brooding Half Brother. Peyton made sure to take a seat on the other side of the room even though the brooding Slytherin hadn't raised a hand against him since Christmas the previous year. He supposed five years of beatings were easier to remember than eight months of peace.

Peyton regarded the board with a brow furrowed. He didn't recognize the quote despite his mostly muggle upbringing and his fondness for Muggle Studies. Although he supposed he could relate to it. All his late night study sessions with Alex to get himself ready for his OWLs was definitely a lesson in what he did know and what he didn't. What he didn't know could fill a much larger library than that of what he did. He couldn't wait for the day when all he needed to know was the best manoeuvres to make in Quidditch.

Jay entered the Charms classroom with a quizzical expression. It wasn't so much that he didn't enjoy the new atmosphere, it was definitely intriguing, but he always hated when decor overwhelmed the obvious architecture of a room. The heavy curtains and the candles distracted from the curved ceiling, the runic mahogany walls and the beautiful paned windows near the front of the room. Then again the emphasis on the board and the attention on the Professor was probably well needed. Jay wasn't a bad student by any means but he was finding himself easily distracted in such a new and fascinating environment.

He took a seat near the Blonde girl with green and silver on her uniform. He had been in Hogwarts long enough to know that meant she was part of the Slytherin house. He privately hoped she was as kind and welcoming as Jordyn had been (she was definitely just as beautiful) but held his tongue until he was sure he'd be allowed to speak. At the moment the Professor's dreamy almost half asleep voice was calling attention towards the front of the class room.

Jay had his quill and ink bottle out copying down the quote from the board and using it as the header for his parchment. He was getting used to copying everything down in English, where everything would have been written in French during his studies at Beauxbatons. He'd have to thank his father again for his heritage and making sure the Valjean boys were bilingual - it was definitely helping to be fluent in English (even if it was American English)

Charms was certainly in an unfortunate position this year. Not only was it on a Monday, which was of course the worst day in existence, though it wasn't Mondays fault for that. Monday was just positioned poorly as being the start of the week. If the week started on any other day, it would receive all the hate Monday had. Friday was lucky, in that sense, that it was the day before the weekend. But Charms was also at a disadvantage because it was also directly before lunch. It also didn't help that Church had a patrol last night which once again led him to just not going to bed at all. There seemed to be something seriously wrong with him, ability to stay awake after patrolling with Sasha notwithstanding. It wasn't so bad, really. Though it was a full moon, and Church swore that the boy was a little bit more on edge than normal. Even if all the weres were safely in their cells back in London. He could have been imagining it, of course, but it was much more amusing remembering, if even falsely, Sasha being on edge.

He wasn't exactly excited for Charms today as it was. Well, truth be told, he was never really excited for Charms. The new professor was... the new professor... Well the new professor made Church uneasy, to say the least. And saying the least was probably the most polite after saying nothing at all. He wasn't a bad teacher. At least Church didn't think so. But then Church didn't exactly remember anything from any of the prior classes. His mind had sort of glazed over all of them, keeping only the key details, such as spells, intact. That was probably bad. But it kept the professor in the good grace of neutrality, and neutrality was really the best place you could ever hope to be with Church.

So sleepy, hungry, moderately angry Church slipped into the Charms class, taking a seat behind Gracie. Hiding in the back was becoming quite the strategy for him. Unfortunately this was a bad choice, it seemed, being near that one Durmstrang kid. Nothing against him, aside from how annoying he was during that SAWS meeting, Church simply didn't like him. But then again, Church didn't really like anyone from Durmstrang or Beauxbatons so far. Salem on the other hand was very entertaining. Plus, for how nice they were, they also put their money where their mouth was, barely losing to Durmstrang, and all of their champions doing so in extremely clever ways. Body paint made from berries being admittedly clever. Oh, Church had forgotten about that guy. Okay, so Church liked at least one person from Beauxbatons so far.

"Playing with the cat again, are we?" Church asked with a wry grin. He didn't hear any ruckus last night, which meant that she had probably gone to a place with less trophies to practice turning into a giant furry feline.

The first thing Alex noticed when she entered the Charms classroom was the quote on the board. It looked like philosophical twaddle, the kind of pretty statement that was either obvious or didn't mean anything. This looked to be the latter. So far, so bad.

Alex was in two minds about the new charms professor. Yes, he was quite… interesting in appearance, and he seemed to be a passable teacher, but Ligeia became unbelievably irritating when he was mentioned, the worst part of her romanticism emerging like a bloated toad crawling out of a festering swamp. Although there had been the time in their second year- but that hadn't made her dull to converse with. Kesali turned her insipid and repetitive.

Giving up on Ligeia as a lost cause, Alex scanned the classroom for Spalding, before remembering that he had voiced suspicions about Kesali and wouldn't be coming to the lesson. Instead, she walked to the back of the classroom and sat down next to Church, who could be relied upon not to gush about creepy charms professors. He did look relatively alert, but that still meant that he looked exhausted- just less so than usual.

"What kind of coffee did you have this morning?" Alex asked, frowning. Church had been put onto a course of caffeine, enforced every morning by either herself or Bea, and while it wasn't ideal it was still preferable to him falling asleep all the time.