Nightingale nestled into his office for the morning, going over final grades, and mapping out where the students should go next. Mid-terms made and broke their term, and for most everyone Charms seemed to be going well. However, for the young master Pepper, he worried. The report he got from the Headmistress wasn't alarming no, but it did make him worry. Ambrose hadn't performed the charm well enough to get a passing grade, but Gale couldn't very well fail him either.

The air was cool and crisp today, even inside the castle, and with his fire burning still Gale pulled his jacket around him further to write a summons for Ambrose. Little silver glasses perched on the end of his nose as he seemed to be lost in the paperwork, and little nimble fingers ran over the paper with ease.


"My office, at your earliest convenience.
Very Truly Yours,
Professor Kesali"

The sickness had taken a great deal of him, and though he was already of the pale sort--Gale's complexion was peaked, and his only visible eye was weak. This year had been a rough one so far, his first, and he was looking forward to some time away. But most of all, looked forward to starting over again in the new year.

 

Thursday, one more day before the end of the autumn term at Hogwarts, and Ambrose was looking forward to the Yule Ball that weekend, accompanying Cyhirae. He'd sought some advice on things as he could do to try and make the night better, to ease himself over the fact Winnie would be arm in arm with Zel... not with him.

When Professor Kesali's note landed, Ambrose's stomach dropped through the floor.

Earliest convenience.

His hands shook a little, and he felt clammy. It was hard to concentrate in lessons, and eventually he made his way to his charms professor's office after the lessons finished for the day. He was going to get a detention, again, wasn't he? Or worse, be told he'd failed his exam and couldn't go to the ball.

Raising his hand to Professor Kesali's door, he noticed his fist was shaking, and he tried to take a deep breath and steady himself before he knocked, quietly. and then a little more firmly.

Opening the door, he stepped cautiously into the door frame, and looked to the Professor.
"I ... I got your note Professor..." He stuttered timidly from the door. All his irritation and anger from the detention had gone, washed away by the frustration and despair of his exam, and now, stood alone, he lacked any confidence which remained.

Gale's heart broke upon seeing the boy, and he vowed to curse the worst part of his job. Ambrose looked as if though he were about to face a dragon, or better yet--Storm. What was it the boy thought of him? Surly by now he should know that as his Professor he wouldn't hurt him, and would do everything in his power to make sure the boy made it through his classes. If it wasn't for the poor score on his exam, he doubted he would ever have to speak to Ambrose like this at all. He was such a bright and sweet child.


"Take a seat, Young Master." He offered the cushioned chair across from his desk, where he had been working very hard. "I bet you could guess why I called you here, hmm?" He asked without looking up from his paperwork.

"I have to say I'm very shocked, Mister Pepper. I surprised that you did score so poorly." Gods, he hated this part, and handed over the paper to Ambrose where his test score was in red ink.

"What happened?" He asked Ambrose with a very real and sincere concern in his voice, as he looked at the boy now through the silver rims of his glasses. His bad eye as always still hidden, it looked rather comical beneath the thin frames.

"Take a seat, Young Master. I bet you could guess why I called you here, hmm?" The Professor didn't look up, and Ambrose froze on the spot, then took a hurried little breath and turned on the spot to close the door behind him before making his way steadily over to the chair - submitting to his fate.

"I have to say I'm very shocked, Mister Pepper. I surprised that you did score so poorly."

Uh oh. Ambrose cringed. Dad wouldn't be pleased to see that, he'd have his disappointed face on...

"What happened?" The Professor looked at him finally, and Ambrose shrank back in the chair, the parchment falling to his knees.

"What always happens." He replied miserably. "I'm just awful at magic - everyone knows it."

Ambrose was unable to meet the gaze of his Professor.

"Happens every time I pick up my bloody wand...[1] Sir." He mumbled, hands forming fists in his lap, and the test scores crumpling in his grasp. "I'm just a disappointment.[2]" He pouted.

"Its not like I don't try." He snapped, and folded his arms, still gripping the paper which was now very much worse for wear, torn at the edge. The Gryffindor turned his face away defiantly, and then remembering, added. "... Sir."

1.	The Dead Rat, after successfully enlarging Billy's teeth though
2.	Ambrose Faces the Boggart in March

"Let's drop the formalities ok? I feel like my father every time you all call me, Sir. And I refuse to feel that old until I have my own children." In truth Gale was rather young when it came to being a Professor, but he knew he wasn't the only one.

"And you do try, Ambrose, that's the thing. You have gave your best at ever class, even in the extra credit, which I have to admit is the only reason I can pass you right now at all." MAKER, this was so hard, and Gale had to fight a few tears back. Instead he removed his glasses and made busy work for his fingers by cleaning them.

"That's why I don't understand what is going on, you can do this. I know you can. Of all the students out there, you want it the most." Leaning forward on his desk he put the glasses up on top of his head to keep his hair from his face long enough to truly look at the boy--give him his undivided attention.

"What's going on? What's keeping you from it? What, My Dear Boy, is holding you back?" He held his bottom lip between his teeth a moment not wanting to admit the next part, "Because, we have got to fix this, or I fear for your future grades."

Ambrose stared with wide eyes at the Professor when he insisted on not being so formal. Next he'd be offering him biscuits... again. He fell silent at the Professor responded that he did try, and that he'd only been passed on attending the extra credit where Moira had flipped out at Winnie. He thought it really odd that if he'd not gone to that class, quite possibly he'd be going to the Ball with Moira, and not have asked Cy out, and have failed his charms exam.

"That's why I don't understand what is going on, you can do this. I know you can. Of all the students out there, you want it the most. What's going on? What's keeping you from it? What, My Dear Boy, is holding you back? Because, we have got to fix this, or I fear for your future grades."

"My grades, or everyone's necks?" Ambrose replied bitterly. "I know I try hard - I hate to get stuff wrong. I'm just... I'm just not as clever as other people, it takes me longer, and then even when I've got it - the wrong thing comes out my bloody mouth!" He gave an angered sigh and raised his eyes to the ceiling of the Professor's office.

"I won't be around much longer anyway. OWLs and I'm out of here, its for the best." He shrugged, finally realising he'd screwed up the paper, and smoothed it on his knee.

Gale listened very intently, mapping an answer in his mind, and trying his hardest to find the answers for Ambrose. He would be dead before that boy failed out, or any of his children. He would do everything in his power to see them through to the end, and of all the students--Ambrose, who tried his hardest wouldn't fail. He simply tried so hard.

"My grades, or everyone's necks?" Ambrose replied bitterly. "I know I try hard - I hate to get stuff wrong. I'm just... I'm just not as clever as other people, it takes me longer, and then even when I've got it - the wrong thing comes out my bloody mouth!"

"So then don't use your mouth!" He answered back with as much boom in his voice as Ambrose used, "Try this." He stood removing one of the oranges that were in a bowl on his desk, and sat it on the end table a few feet from where the boy sat.

"Command the spell silently to yourself, in your head." He pointed to the fruit, "Just as you would in class, same voice, same command. Just without the words." He would address that last statement after he got the Charm, and pocketed that bit of information for later.

"Without speaking?" Ambrose asked in alarm, "But I can't do that...!" His mouth fell open. Non-verbal spells were what the NEWT students did. It'd be impossible.

"I can't, it'll never work." The Professor had lost his mind. How would he be able to do non-verbal magic if he couldn't do it when he spoke it? Even when he did manage to pronounce things properly, he still managed to muck it up.

"Seriously?" Kesali seemed sure. Ambrose puffed out his breath, looked unsure, and gave a shrug. He pulled out his wand and stared at the orange, trying to remember the banishing spell, which he assumed Kesali wanted him to try again. Glancing up from the orange, he checked the Professor wasn't laughing or something and tried to focus - his tongue sticking out the side of his mouth.

He flicked his wand, thinking the word of the spell as hard as he could, biting his tongue in the process.

"Aowch!" Pepper instrinctively put a hand to his mouth to check for blood, blushed, and realised the orange hadn't moved. Kesali was mad, this wasn't going to work.

Again, this time without the tongue sticking out his mouth - he looked more like a constipated mule. Depulso. No, nothing, or did it just, shiver? But, perhaps Kesali might have a point, if only Ambrose could.

"You sure this is going to work?" Ambrose asked sceptically, brow furrowed.

That little shiver should have been enough for them both to celebrate, but Ambrose started right in with beating himself up. The self doubt in the boy was going to be his undoing, he was certain of it. Gale couldn't handle it when students thought so poorly of themselves, and he instantly wanted to shake the boy's parents. Clearly, something was amiss with Ambrose's upbringing, and maybe...it would be wise if he saw a counselor. Perhaps, the boy's parents would be at the ball, and he could speak with them.

"Ambrose, I'm sure it's going to work, and you should be too. You know why? Because you are a damn fine student, and a really brilliant boy. Certainly by now you should know that you can't give up so easily. Not when you have come this far. I know times are hard right now, especially when you seem to be unable to catch a break, but the only person that you should have to truly answer to is standing in this room, and it's not me. You are under so much pressure that even I fear you will explode, but damn it. Take it out on the orange. See that stupid fruit. It's the only thing that is holding you back right now. F--- that fruit man, send it to it's grave."

Gale still remained beside him, but he turned his back on the orange so that he could face Ambrose.

"Silent spells, are like your heartbeat. It starts small, repeats over and over and over, louder each time. Growing just as you do. It's there until it's pounding in your head, and just when you feel you can't escape the noise--"

Depulso!

A teakettle crashed against a wall, with enough force that half of it turned to sand.

"It's gone." Placing his hands in his pockets, his wand back in his boot, Gale turned to watch the fruit. "You've got this."

"Silent spells, are like your heartbeat. It starts small, repeats over and over and over, louder each time. Growing just as you do. It's there until it's pounding in your head, and just when you feel you can't escape the noise--"

Ambrose was staring at Professor Kesali with his eyes like saucers, face blushed and mouth hanging open in surprise. His wand hung loosely between his fingertips, and he was frozen, taken by surprise.

The teapot smashing against the wall made him leap out of his skin and he fumbled his wand and stared at the destruction.

"It's gone." The Professor finished simply, "You've got this."

Ambrose exhaled and rubbed his face, closing his mouth with a click of his teeth as he realised it was hanging open. Make the orange smash against the wall then? He could do that without meaning to, but that was uncontrolled and the sort of magic he didn't want to keep doing. One day it would be another person, a small child, a Muggle...

"Aahhh." Ambrose growled to himself, as if he was giving himself a shake to his senses. "Come on." He told himself sternly.

"Start small," He looked to the Professor with eyebrows raised in appeal to check he had it right, "repeat over and over getting louder, until you're about to say it out loud and then... do it?"

Seeing confirmation Ambrose Pepper gave a nod. His tongue poked out the corner of his mouth again and he withdrew it, closing his eyes and raising his wand. Depulso.

Depulso, depulso, depulso, depulso, depulso, depulso, depulso!

Ambrose's eyes flew open as he felt like he was about to shout the spell aloud, and he let his wand hand perform the familiar gesture, the whole process causing him to forget to breathe, so he gasped a breath as the orange did more than shiver, it shot clean off the table.

"Merlin!" Ambrose exclaimed and looked to his wand in fright and then to the orange. "It - moved and I didn't say anything?!"

Gale didn't watch the orange, nor did he even pay attention to the boy's wand. All he could even see right now was how badly Ambrose wanted this. He held his mouth tight--wanting it just as much, and when that orange moved Gale held back from bouncing around the room with it. He wanted to, and finally exhaled. Oh thank the maker.

"No, you didn't have to! You did it. On purpose even. Look!" He went over to the orange, "Let's mix it with some fire whiskey, this calls for a celebration." He chuckled, picking up the fruit bits from the floor. "Good enough to pass this mid-term that's for sure." Gods, he couldn't stop grinning, and looked back at Ambrose from his place across the room. This was why he made the switch from the Ministry, and what gave him purpose. The students here could never understand how much they meant to him, and how much they help him heal--made him a better person. But this wasn't about his victory, nor was it truly his moment.

"So we know that it's not the magic that is the problem, nor is it the wand like I first thought. It's just a mix up of communication between your head and your heart…for lack of better words." He was talking mostly to himself, jotting down mental notes as he went, and moved to his desk to do just that. After a few little scribbles fixing his grade he looked back at Ambrose through the little glasses perched on the end of his nose, and almost asked if his mind was right. However, the words died on his lips as he saw the boy standing there.

"Do it again."

Kesali was crazy. Ambrose gawped further at him with the suggestion of drinking firewhiskey.

"Good enough to pass this mid-term that's for sure."

Phew! The relief flooded over Ambrose at those words. He'd not go home with a troll on his charms exam at least. Well, that was better news all round.

"So we know that it's not the magic that is the problem, nor is it the wand like I first thought. It's just a mix up of communication between your head and your heart…for lack of better words."

"Just a general inability to speak and being an idiot." Ambrose muttered to himself, the confidence deflating already as his mind brought forth countless detentions for his lack of achievement.

"Do it again."

"What?" Ambrose blurted out before his mind had a chance to intervene. "I... I don't think I can." The elation and surprise had quickly been replaced with the thought that it could have been one of his fluke moments. His inconsistency, being flustered under pressure, lack of confidence all mounted up and if one didn't trip him up the other did. As his doubts increased, the memory of the detention in the same room also began to rise to the surface.

"Gah!" Ambrose exclaimed, exasperated and frustrated with himself feeling the way he did. He brandished his wand with gusto and pointed it at another of the oranges on the desk, but this time round was a little too hasty in how he repeated the word in his head. Much like his speaking voice it began to trip over, lose clarity as he forgot to take time over the process.

With a flick of the wand nothing happened apart from a book on the bookcase in the room flopped against its neighbour. Pepper did nothing to mask his dismay, shoulders drooping.

But, plucky determination continued, and again he pointed his wand at the orange, depulso, depuls, depul... the orange stared back at him, unblinking. Not even a shiver. Damn piece of ridiculous fruit! Ambrose shot it a furious glare and dropped his wand arm, turning on the spot.

"Must have got lucky," He surmised grimly.

Kesali wasn’t crazy, he just liked. fruity little drinks because he can’t shoot whiskey
At least not like most of the crowd he ran with, and with how stressful this entire teaching thing had been he spent a lot of time mixing fruit with heavy spirits. Gale was still cleaning up the mess, with his hand and a rag instead of his wand—a habit from his upbringing to never use magic unless it was needed.

’Just a general inability to speak and being an idiot’

Gale hadn’t heard the entire thought, but he could put it all together. And if he’d known Ambrose was being punished because of his inability and not his actions, tables would have been flipped.

“Ambrose…you can, because this one doesn’t count. It’s just for fun. No pressure. You passed, with an A at least. Better than what it was, and we’ll get this I promise.” He watched the boy struggle for a moment, wanting to take out his own wand and push the damn fruit for him.

“I don’t believe in luck.” Of all people that was hard to believe he figured, but it was the truth. “Just fate, M’dear. Now gather your stuff. Take your grade, and enjoy your break. But let me say this,” Gale turned to face the boy, his hands coming to his own hips with a huff,

“If I hear you doubt yourself one more time, I’ll fail you so hard. From here on in, it’s ‘Yes I can do this, Yes I will do this, and I’m the smartest brightest boy out there. And if any one else my age or older…much older says any other wise, send me an owl. I’ll break their nose in. If you tell yourself you can’t do it, then you won’t, and you know what if that’s good enough for you than so be it, but that…” He pointed at where the orange bits were still on his wall, “Is proof enough for me that you can do it. And frankly, I’d prefer make a wizard out of you than some pathetic pencil pusher for the ministry.”

Gale moved to his desk to take up Ambrose’s grade and changed the letter before handing it to him, “Now go shove that in Casey’s face, or anyone else that doubts you and tell him stuff it where the sun don’t shine.”

“If I hear you doubt yourself one more time, I’ll fail you so hard. From here on in, it’s ‘Yes I can do this, Yes I will do this, and I’m the smartest brightest boy out there. And if any one else my age or older…much older says any other wise, send me an owl. I’ll break their nose in. If you tell yourself you can’t do it, then you won’t, and you know what if that’s good enough for you than so be it, but that… Is proof enough for me that you can do it. And frankly, I’d prefer make a wizard out of you than some pathetic pencil pusher for the ministry.”

Pepper was agape. Somehow he didn't quite see Kesali punching Professor Storm in the face, but he'd pay for a ticket to watch him try.

“Now go shove that in Casey’s face, or anyone else that doubts you and tell him stuff it where the sun don’t shine.”

Ambrose grasped the amended exam result slip, which now bore an A for acceptable, something that seemed fairly alien to him in charms.

"Er," He floundered, "Thank you, Sir, I er, won't shove it in Casey's face, he'd er, probably come out in a rash, but I understand, er, what you mean?" He was tucking his wand away into his pocket as he tumbled over his words, leaning backwards slightly away from the Professor who spoke so passionately about things. Ambrose had started to feel a little silly about things, awkward.

"Thank you." He repeated, backing away, and seizing the door handle. Turning it, the Gryffindor escaped into the corridor before Kesali could change his mind about the grade again.


End