1535 hours, first floor. Personal lesson.


Tuesday afternoons, more often then not, left Raine Almasy revived and determined. Her supplementary lessons[1] with Professor Storm were challenging but in a sense that was enjoyable, compelling. This was not the case today.

Today she felt differently; tired and angry[2] and perhaps slightly bitter. It showed in her manner.

The Gryffindor prefect leaned against one of the chairs that had been set to the side of the classroom for their duelling- one arm supported her weight, the other brandished a wand gingerly. She was breathing hard, and there wasn't a muscle in her being that didn't feel sore.

"Alright," she finally addressed her elder after a few more breaths. "I think I'm ready for another attempt at that." Although even she had to admit that they were at least a good minute away from such activity.

That was the inevitable consequence of being knocked off one's feet by a curse your shield could not protect against.

"Caught me by surprise," Raine forced herself away from the chair with a grimace, back to the center of the room, where they had been duelling. "I can deflect it this time."

1.	The Moon Asked the Crow
2.	Arthur Lemon's admission to St.Mungo's

Just over halfway through the lesson with Almasy, they paused, her panting against a chair, he loosening his tie and undoing his shirt collar and tossing aside his tie to his desk. With shirt sleeves already rolled up beneath a waistcoat, and a light perspiration upon his forehead, a passing glance at the door from a stranger would have deserved a second to understand the scene. Thankfully the classroom door was closed.

"Hmph." The Professor retorted to her protests that she was caught by surprise by the curse. "Good job I wasn't aiming it for your neck then, isn't it?"

Extorqueo, the dislocation hex was painful but not overly harmful when pointed at muscles like the thigh or the stomach, but a knee, shoulder of a wand arm, or neck...

"Sloppy. The moment you get tired, your aim drops." The criticism was uttered without thinking, the Professor's wish for perfectionism overruling any thought to whether she was injured despite her wish to continue. "Although it could be helpful to take out my feet with a curse, you also drop your guard." He frowned, circling her and tapping her wand hand upwards with his own, instead of laying a finger on her.

Returning to the space before her, he raised his wand again, changing tact again to something simpler, but specifically targeted Infligo first at her feet, and then at the shoulder than didn't carry her wand.

Almasy wasn't half bad at all, despite the fact she looked exhausted. Then again, this time at her stomach in quick succession from the simple smack hex, Extorqueo once again.

Raine breathed out, nodding once at the professor's comment, although it struck a personal fear in her. He might not have aimed for her neck but a less merciful opponent would have. And Merlin knew there were many of those beyond the castle walls: or at least one.

The criticism, though not unexpected, caused her jaw to tighten crossly. Of course he was right and it was her own bloody fault, letting her guard down. She took his correction quietly, while trying to clear her head for the imminent attack.

It was almost too quick.

"Declino!" Raine's wand arm shot out , deflecting the first hex proficiently before striving belatedly for the second. The spell aimed at her shoulder was caught barely in time and she staggered backwards- her casting had been weak.

Too weak, too bloody weak, that's what it was. The Gryffindor's countenance tensed in irritation and that millisecond was enough to cost her much of the reaction time to Storm's Extorqueo. She threw up a hard shield[1] instinctively and winced as she felt the strike against her hastily-made barrier.

Raine staggered backwards again; her shield dropped and without thinking, she flicked her wand angrily. The classroom furniture behind the prefect shook and toppled over, disturbed by the rather aimless casting of Concusso.

"Sorry," she blurted out immediately, brow still wrinkled in self-reproach. "That was unnecessary."
 

1.	Protego durus

As desks and then a bookcase rumbled on their footings, the bookcase tipping forward and emptying its contents before landing upon them. The books gave all manner of shrieks and groans where some had sentient drawings within.

Professor Storm sighed loudly at the mess.
"Take a moment to compose yourself while I sort this." He muttered, stalking past her with an expression that he was not best pleased.

Desks returned to their feet with a sharp wave of his wand that was well practised. These items of furniture were battered, abused and ended up that way several times a week. The books were more a jumble that he couldn't be so hasty with.

With a gentle, sustained sweep his wand, up went the bookcase. Once it had settled and he'd nudged it back into place, he cast a glance back at Raine.
"You don't appear to be quite focused today Almasy." He remarked, the books starting to flap past and up to the shelves as he raised and dipped his wand gracefully from beside the bookcase. "Its a waste of my time and yours if you are elsewhere mentally."

The gentle slip slap of the pages in the books coming back together before returning to the shelves beside him continued, he could see at least 20 minutes left on the sandtimer on his desk at the other end of the classroom, his tie draping off the edge where it had fallen slightly short of his throw moments before.

"We will leave it at that, given your performance." The statement was brusque, but there was a hint in his expression that it should be challenged, that it was an assumption he wanted to rile her with.

Raine felt her cheeks warm with indignation as she was told to compose herself. She was bloody composed, he made it out to sound as if  though she were a child! Which, considering his age, was true-  this fact escaped her at the moment.

The prefect rolled up her blouse sleeves and turned around, watching sullenly as the bookshelf righted itself under Storm's methodical guidance; she didn't dare meet his eye quite yet, flinching indiscernibly at the comments that followed.  "Its a waste of my time and yours if you are elsewhere mentally."

But the dismissal forced her gaze to shoot up, affronted. If anything her performance indicated that they couldn't leave it at that, and it wasn't eve--

"No!" Raine protested in a hard voice before she even had a chance to think it through. "We can't, I've barely even started. I.. I'm not somewhere else, I'm right here, I'm focused."

The seed of doubt was already there however; and she knew it had been there even before Storm pointed it out. The article was only this morning and Arthur Lemon's face still assailed her mind's eye, pushing her.

"Even when I'm being hexed off my feet," Raine tightened the grip on her wand. "It can't be waste of time if I'm learning something useful."

The books jostled back, and one fell to the floor with a slap as Raine exploded with a furious no.

His gaze turned to her defiant one, and he narrowed his eyes and gave a soft hrrmph in response, before giving another wave at the books to send them on their way.

"You need to direct Concusso unless you're in the rare situation of a crowd closing in on you to attack, and even then, you have to follow it up with something directed."

The last book found its place, and Ignan walked past Raine brusquely, turning on the spot back at the front of the class and facing her with a less pleased expression.

"Concusso," The Professor snapped with a flick of his wand, and without giving a second thought to Raine now he was peeved by her performance, followed it with a wordless second spell, as he had once done Schlagenweit - Infligo Proterex.

A rather harsh example, but at least she'd remember the lesson - and he supposed he could teach her to do so in return if she didn't throw a hissy fit at the return...

Rather like a cat, she bristled moodily as Storm strode to the front of the class-  the professor's apparent displeasure didn't help. If anything it made her want to hex the bloody expression right off his face.

At any rate she hardly had the time.

"Protego Durus!"[1] The Gryffindor felt her heart leap in surprise, a second before she threw up her shield on instinct and then, not foreseeing the following attack, nearly allowing it to fall.

Nearly. He hadn't been merciful about lapses between curses before and she doubted that he'd start now. The counter held- but the same couldn't be said for her. Raine let out an exclamation of surprise when the hex smacked against her shield and knocked her backwards off her feet- she leaned forward intuitively, dropping to a knee instead.

Salazar's socks, that smarted.

"Extorqueo!" Raine pushed herself off her knee with a determined glare, brandishing her wand impulsively with the first curses that came to mind. "Devinctus!"[2] she hissed with precision, forgetting for a moment that she wasn't genuinely angry with Professor Storm.

1.	Hard shield
2.	Subjugation hex

Ignan's knee hit the stone floor with a bang and he winced as the shock went up through his hip. The cold weather was already causing him to limp at times, and that would leave a terrific bruise.

He instinctively threw up another shield just in case Raine followed with a third.

"Exactly." He spoke quietly, and then raised his voice. "Exactly, Almasy." The Professor got back to both feet gingerly, and gave her a steady look, though his irritation with her had turned to humility.

"How are you with wordless casting, anyhow?" The wizard asked, "Pays to have a few select ones in your arsenal that you can always recall without speaking the incantation for." 

Glowering, she lowered her wand and finally breathed out in one heavy sigh. Watching him drop had jolted the witch back to her senses- it was too easy to assume that curses were blights of magic they volleyed about in classrooms.

A prickle of pride kept her from apologizing. He wanted to see direction and she showed it to him.

"I can cast all of the simpler spells wordlessly," she shrugged at the question and leaned down to pick up her prefect pin, which had fallen in the commotion. "Charms and fourth year hexes." Floating charms and disarming spells, the bare bones of duelling- and then some.

They were consistently learning new spells in lessons, so there wasn't always much opportunity to put into play what she had been privately practicing- with Gracie and the others of their sparse study group. They worked diligently but there perimeters were vague- what was good enough for the world outside the castle?

"Nothing I would use in a... in a serious confrontation," Raine hesitated with the word, aware that even simple tricks could change the course of a fight."Or perhaps not. I'm not sure exactly what it would take to hold my own in a real duel."

Unless dodging portrait knights counted[1], although she doubted it.

1.	Second Task, Glory

"Nothing I would use in a... in a serious confrontation... Or perhaps not. I'm not sure exactly what it would take to hold my own in a real duel."

"Depends on your definition of a 'real duel'" Her Professor replied grimly. He brushed down his trouser leg from the dust on the floor. "Protego wordlessly, and a few choice curses will give you far more surprise against an opponent. Speaking slows down your casting, but it takes decades to get your full repertoire to hand without speaking - so choose wisely."

Flexing the fingers of his wand hand, he raised his wand once more.
"Try to hold off for as long as you can without using verbal casting, and I'll do the same." He gave a somewhat sinister smile, "Mind your neck..."

Duelling was often such an immediate concern, an activity of quick reflexes and concurrent strategy, that it was surreal to hear of if spoken in terms of decades.

Raine absorbed the notion with a nod of her head- time and pressure, she could understand this. It had taken her as much to become an animagus. As they resumed duelling stances she pushed away the rumination and braced herself, considering the spells that she was already adept at casting.

Lips sealed, the redhead flicked her wand twice in quick succession. To start, sending out an invisible wave of magic: a simple but forceful show of the basic infligo and then, more intuitively, her favoured burn hex in a flash of bright light.

It wasn't difficult to repress the impulse to speak but it tickled at her throat like a fickle cough.

Excellent, Raine was rising to the challenge, but she had given him an indication of what she was prepared to fend off, but he was never one to just let that rest. Smirking - almost smiling, he blocked her curses wordlessly, teasing her with Praeuropedes which she batted away, perhaps not getting the humour, hard to tell with the concentration.

Either way, her focus had returned, which was pleasing, and made their hour far more interesting to him. Raine was an admirable student, and he was pleased he could teach her something more, but it was becoming harder to teach her anything within the boundaries of Hogwarts that she was both interested in and would find useful. Perhaps this week she might lend her mind to letting him know what she wanted to cover next term.

Capusangre then, enjoy that Almasy, he thought, toying with his food as ever. Merlin, this was fun, rather than teaching. Perhaps a visit to Tulojow wasn't a bad thing today - perhaps they'd both need it!

If not for the sounds of clashing hexes and shields, the lack of conversation might have been eerie. Raine's jawline tightened as she deflected the first of hexes, recognising it but stifling her slight surprise- that their Defences teacher possessed a relatable sense of humour.

The ease of the curse made her suspicious and, with no shortage of impudence, she shot back with a childish Evomovermis before stepping back to receive his consecutive attack.

A deep red light she didn't recognize shot rapidly at her, followed by alarming sparks, and Raine nearly caught herself verbally casting a shield. The hesitation cost her and the hard shield was prematurely manifest when the hex broke through it. This time she did say something.

"Bloodyhell," the Gryffindor exclaimed as a sharp pain tore through her head and she clamped a free hand to her nose. Blood. That might have been a lot worse, she supposed, though the affliction wasn't enough to stop her from retaliation.

Even if she had wanted to speak a bloody nose would have obstructed clear enunciation. Raine grit her teeth resolutely and sent out a perfunctory Angustio[1]before succeeding it with vehement use of an Aguamenti charm[2].

1.	Taught by Gracie Slant.
2.	Canon, produces a jet of water from the caster's wand

As the non-verbal duel continued, the two of them looked quite a sight. Almasy's nose was bleeding, water dripped from Ignan's ear where he'd decided to side-step rather than deflect the water, and the two of them were progressing to more obscure spells from student spellbooks. A slash tore Ignan's shirt at the shoulder, and a smell of singed hair wafted through the classroom, helped by the increase of temperature by slinging spells back and forth.

Desks clattered, the candles blew out, and Almay's casting grew more and more fluid and strategic as the non-verbal element's challenge diminished as confidence increased. This was turning out to be quite a lot of fun indeed!

Turpiscarpo was perhaps a little mean to inflict upon her as she was really entering her stride. Never tickle a sleeping dragon - well, never attempt to cause excruciating pain on a Gryffindor...

If she had taken a moment to breath - or think - Raine would have realized that she was feeling unsurprisingly exhausted. The day's lessons, incidents and this particular duel had tuckered out the relentless Gryffindor. As it was she hardly noticed this- so caught up in their wordless casting that they were. A hard shield was thrown up against a battering of Storm's hexes as she advanced forward. It only took one miscast shield for her to learn that having one's hair set on fire was a bad thing. He had earned that tear in attire.

Just as the shield fell, a blinding of orange light was pitched and Raine dodged to the left with a faint protego- showing confidence that she shouldn't have. The hex pierced through and struck to her right, a sharp pain immediately wrenching at her shoulder.

Raine shrieked, stumbled, and then with more than a little spite sent an unruly Mulciberus in Storm's direction. The lash of flame went thrashing to the air before it dissipated abruptly- just as the prefect herself dropped to the floor, on her side.

"Godric's bloody socks!" she managed to choke out; her left arm was more or less in less agony and it propped her up as she pushed away the fervent desire to curl up. "What was that?" More importantly, could she learn how to cast it!