McBoid,

Eight this evening in the classroom. You will only require your wand.

Professor Storm

He had been mulling over Moira McBoid's progress since just before Christmas through the examinations where she had scored Poor. McBoid was a quiet girl, somewhat a recluse, but her work was generally well put together, and her attendance regular. He had been informed of an incident between her and Winifred Oliver, but in honesty the Professor thought Oliver could do with a few more hexes for character building, and wider school amusement.

However, McBoid seemed to be holding back on what, according to Professor O'Morain had mentioned to Ignan in the staff room once, a bright mind. Creatures had captivated her academic efforts from what was conveyed, but she risked a blot on her book over Defences, needlessly. If it wasn't dark wizards, it would be dark creatures or protecting oneself from harm generally that would put Moira in good stead if she was following that path.

It took a few minutes to set out what he thought might be required to catch McBoid's attention, laid out across the front row of desks in the classroom that evening.

An Acromantula claw, preserved Erumpent horn, a lock of mane from a Chimaera, which had admittedly seen better days, and then, although face down, a copy of a photo of the Nundu he and Georg had joined in the hunt of with a hundred other wizards when they were travelling.

"McBoid, do come in." He greeted the Hufflepuff as she came to the door. The Professor's tone was sitting on the edge of what the students recognised as being 'pleased' which easily slid to 'laying a trap'. He flicked his wand at the candles nearest the front to increase the light levels in the dark of the evening as Moira made her way towards him.

"How are you finding your studies in Defence Against the Dark Arts this year?" The Professor asked, lowering his wand and for the moment, sliding it away in his academic robe over his suit.

Moira had that terrible feeling of foreboding following her most of the day after she had received Professor Storm's note. She could guess as to the reason why. In fact, Peeves had gone out of his way to gloat and throw more things at her between classes from time to time after her terrible performance. She hated that poltergeist, and that was quite an accomplishment, as she generally didn't 'hate' most things. She might highly dislike something, like that fourth step on the stairs leading up to the astronomy tower that always seemed to trip her, but she didn't hate it.

At precisely 8 pm the fourth year passed through the door to the Defense classroom. Seeing the professor standing at the front of the room and hearing his 'pleased' sounding voice just increased her sense of foreboding and... dread. It wasn't just a lecture he had planned for her. The note saying she would require her wand confirmed that much. Moira wasn't a fool, she had heard stories though she pretended not to. Still, she kept her composure.

"Evening, Professor." As she walked closer Moira noticed the items on the desk, and she was fairly certain she could name them all, other than the photo hidden from view. Two different senses crept up through her dread. Puzzlement and curiosity. What was he planning?

Not entirely sure what sort of answer he wanted she blinked up at him. "They're... alright, Ah suppose? Ah can-nae really complain." Other than failing her exam, anyway.

"Alright?" The Professor asked sharply, "This explains a few things." He drew himself a little taller and inclined a little forward as he addressed her.

"Disappointing, would be the word I'd have used, McBoid."

The Professor let those words sit for a second or more, just long enough for any initial reaction to appear, though Moira had always been a quiet one of little expression in his lessons.

"I know very well you can do better, and so do you from that response?" The question was more rhetoric. Any student who dared to say they were doing their best in disagreement from the Professor was generally open to being proved they were not good enough. The tales of the odd cocky NEWT student staggered back to their common room with singed hair, bumped head and aching limbs and thought twice, three times before doing it again.

But rather than dwell on things, he drew her attention first to the items on the table.
"I understand you have a keen interest in creatures, McBoid, given your overall marks this year." Being the Deputy Headmaster was rather handy for that, "Would you be able to identify each of the objects here, and explain a little of the creature it belongs to?"

Did Professor Storm really have to tower over her like that? He was already a good foot taller than her and drawing himself up more just made it worse. As for his statement about disappointing... she was a bit at a loss and simply looked at him. Defense against the Dark Arts, useful though they were, obviously wasn't her favorite subject but she wouldn't say the classes were disappointing.

Wisely, Moira didn't respond to his rhetorical question. There was always room to apply oneself more to whatever they were doing. Unless the subject already highly interested them. From the items she had seen before, which he soon drew her attention to, the professor had a good idea about all that.

"Aye, Professor." Looking to the table she began. "The first is an Acromantula claw. They were magically bred before the ban, so they're capable of human speech. Their leg spans can reach fifteen feet, and the young hatch anywhere from six ta eight weeks.

The horn belonged ta an Erumpant, which can be mistaken for a common rhinoceros if far enough away. The Erumpant's hide repels most charms and curses. Then there's the thing about the males making other males explode.

The lock of hair is from... a Chimaera. It has the head of a lion, the body of a goat, and a dragon's tail. They are bloodthirsty and extremely vicious." Obviously she had no idea about the fourth, as she couldn't see the picture and she wasn't about to touch it without being told so.

"Good, I see the reports from Professor Hagrid and Professor Locksley are accurate." Storm replied firmly, though he suspected as much from the references in Moira's homework which he marked.

"And this?" He presented her with the photograph and a tilt of his head.

"You are a clever witch, McBoid," The Deputy Headmaster addressed her stepping away, his eyes looking to the items on the desks, "why might I have selected this particular combination of animal artefacts in relation to your recent marks in Defence Against the Dark Arts?"

Hopefully she would put two and two together with ease and this would be a relatively positive detention if there could ever be such a thing.

Looking at the picture she immediately knew what it was, and also knew it was creature she would only want to see from a very far distance. "The Nundu. East African. Their breath causes diseases tha' can kill the people in an entire village."

Clever was not a word she would have used to describe herself. Moira wasn't one to argue about such things though and kept quiet, until he got to his next question. She knew her marks for the exams wouldn't just lie quiet.

With a soft sigh she answered after a moment. "Ah suppose it's because Ah'm so knowledgeable about creatures in general... and if encountered Ah would need ta know the best way ta defend meself against them."

McBoid showed recognition to the photograph of the Nundu, but undoubtedly she was focused on the animal, and not the clamouring of wizards around its carcass who had defeated it.

"You're not as dim as your marks make out, McBoid." Professor Storm remarked at her on the ball answer, and raised an eyebrow. "Which begs the question, why if you see the link between the subject I teach, and the one you excel at, do you not apply yourself further in my lessons to make up for your shortfall?"

He set the photo back down, glimpsing an image of him and Georg with elated expressions amongst the group patting the carcass, mucky and tired from the long hunt.

"Or is that not a strong enough motivation? I've plenty of detentions you could join until you find it…" Moira wasn't a badly behaved student, but he found the threat of a detention could often remind the best students that they too could end up in one if they didn't continue to put in the effort he required of them.

Moira stood quietly. It wasn't as though she could tell him she had been having issues still around the time of the exams. He'd wave it off as an excuse for sure. Of course it didn't help that he had to use /Peeves/ for his exam. Even thinking about it started to get her irritated again, so quickly she averted her thoughts back to the issue at hand.

A hint of a smile appeared before fading again at his threat of detention. It really wasn't that terrible of a punishment for her, since when she wasn't studying she was always off by herself anyway. "Ye could, if ye think it would help, Professor."

She also was not about to say she did not feel all that much like applying herself more than she had to. Something like that was just asking for trouble. Besides, Moira knew his lessons were important. She knew they were something she desperately needed to learn. Still, it just wasn't all that interesting and sometimes it was just simply too difficult.

"Hm." The professor replied, mouth pressed into a thin line.

"If I didn't agree with you, McBoid, I'd have given you one for that comment." He smirked and it turned into genuine amusement for the blink of an eye.

"I doubt it will take much more application from you to bring you up to speed with where you are capable. You already exceed the likes of some of your classmates," he didn't outright name them, but Moira could guess.

"From my perspective, and you may disagree or agree, up to you, is that you lack conviction of which spell to choose in a situation. You have all the necessary means in theory in your head, but in practise you're either unsure it is applicable to use, or that you can cast sufficiently."

He smoothed his fingers thoughtfully over the slight stubble on his chin that had grown over the day.
"That comes with practice. Whether it is in the corridors when Professors are not in sight, or attending the duelling club, or even flailing your arms in this classroom, most students acquire it in some form. But I suspect you only partake in the last?"

His assumptions confirmed in some way, he dragged his wand across the air above the objects and they lifted gently and steadily into the air and landed one after the other in a wooden box at the other end of the desks.

"So I'll give you the option McBoid, attend once a week here voluntarily to practice, or attend detention three times a week to practice and to copy out your defences text book, as reported to your Head of House. You can decide by the time you leave." He was making his way down the classroom to clear space for them, wand flicking to and fro at the desks, his back to her.

"But for now, wand in your hand." He turned on the spot from the other end of the room, space between them,
"Praeuropedes.[1]"

1.	Wiki entry for Praeuropedes

"If I didn't agree with you, McBoid, I'd have given you one for that comment." He smirked and it turned into genuine amusement for the blink of an eye.

"I doubt it will take much more application from you to bring you up to speed with where you are capable. You already exceed the likes of some of your classmates," he didn't outright name them, but Moira could guess.

Surely she wasn't imagining things... Did Professor Storm really just give her a compliment? That was a little difficult for her to believe, but as with most other things she let it slide. Of course it was rare for her to receive compliments like that. Generally she preferred to not be in the spotlight.

Listening on to what he thought was her issue with the subject Moira couldn't really disagree with him. It was a likely possibility she had problems with that conviction thing once she got to thinking about it. The further she got into thinking of defenses the worse it became.

As for the voluntary practice or the three detentions.... It wasn't really a difficult choice. Even though she wasn't bothered by detentions as badly as most other students what he proposed sounded like a complete pain. Copying text was something she'd had a lot of practice with at the library, but nothing quite like what he was proposing.

Utterly confused when he walked away and made space between them, Moira barely registered the words for her wand to be in her hand when he was beginning to cast the curse. In an instant her wand practically jumping into her hand. Declino! The word flashed briefly and brightly in her mind as she swung her wand forward and watched as the hex he cast was deflected to another part of the room.

Blinking in shock she glanced down at the wand in her hand then back to the Professor.

Good! McBoid was up to the challenge. This should not take too much work to bring her up to speed with the better members of her class, Ignan thought to himself as he vocalised another spell - speaking aloud for the benefit of Moira and her expected skill level, nonverbal spells would come when he was sure she was up to the challenging of interpreting movement and resulting magical colours.

With a bit more time she would also potentially exceed many of her classmates, but he did not want her to exceed too far and be bored before her OWL examination the following year. Undoubtedly the following year he would be inflicting extra lessons on the likes of Pepper, Oliver and such who flailed their wands without proper results, to ensure that they achieved something half respectable in their examinations. Professor Storm did not tolerate failure, especially in external examinations like the OWLs and NEWTs. Those who persisted to fail would ache and cry as necessary to achieve the relevant skills instead.

"Ustulo!"

The way he vocalised each of the curses as the threw them at Moira indicated he found such spellcasting sport. Often in lessons the students would be pitted against each other, unless for demonstration, and such rallies were often not productive for teaching groups. With the likes of Almasy, Trishna and older students who did come to him regularly to practise their skill against an adult with sharper wandwork, he did enjoy the hours, and they came away with sharper reflexes and a host of new spells that were off the NEWT curriculum.

"Stay on the defence, McBoid, there is plenty of time to tackle using curses as defence unless you opt for copying out the text book." The Professor called across the classroom, quickly delivering

"Evomovermis!"

The first hex admittedly did take Moira by surprise and immediately a burning sting did spread over her. The second hex, however, she was able to gather herself together and defend with the same shield technique she had used before, this time saying the spell out loud.

The session continued on like that. Some spells were defended against, others managed to hit her anyway. Not too much time had passed before she was definitely sore and hurting. However, being a McBoid she was far too stubborn to ask to stop or for a break. Knowing the professor, he'd ignore any such requests anyway and would stop once he was ready to.

Moira groaned when he finally did stop the lesson and rubbed at her arms. She had quite the headache too. It was no wonder why the students he took under his wings, so to speak, excelled so rapidly; to avoid pain. That night was a good night, too, as he wasn't angry with her. She'd hate to ever be on his bad side.

"The time is running away with us," the Professor remarked, checking the time on his pocketwatch from his waistcoat pocket.

"Enough, McBoid, enough for a night. Progress is satisfactory." He informed, her, though in honesty it was more than satisfactory, but it wouldn't do to let it go to her head.

It had taken her a little time to get into her stride, but once she was there - there was a glimpse of a young woman self-assured and in control of her magic.

"We'll meet again, McBoid, and I expect to see improvement." He slid his pocketwatch back and fixed the girl with a sharp eye.

"Dismissed."

End