Monday 15 March 2010
7:30 pm
Great Hall, Hogwarts School

The tables were cleared away and the Great Hall seemed bigger than ever.  Where the head table might have been was a giant chalkboard on a stand.  At the moment it merely said APPARITION LESSONS.  Standing in front of it was Mr. Wilkensmith Twycross from the Department of Magical Transportation.  His badge said so.  His robes were faded dated (but quite professional), and his hair was a wispy white.  He seemed as if he might disappear, he was so pale and gaunt.

His watery eyes watched from behind thin spectacles as the smart young students gathered.  They were all 17 or nearly 17, and it was through this important licensure that they'd become true adults in the eyes of the Wizarding World. Apparition meant freedom! Which is why safety anr responsibility were paramount.

He had been informed that this year he'd be assisted as needed by a few Hogwarts staff.  He didn't object of course, but he wasn't sure what role they expected to have.  Perhaps this group of students was expected to be more troublesome or have more trouble Apparating than previous cohorts.

"Come, come.  Space yourselves out.  Seven to a row.  Plenty of space between," he told them in a deep cracking voice. 

---

Imari had arrived in the Great Hall 10 minutes before the class started because she knew that if she didn't go early, she would chicken out and not go at all.  She had heard horror stories from her father about apparition mistakes that splinched people and it terrified her.  That was precisely the reason she was here,  standing in what she presumed was the middle of the Great Hall and scuffed her shoe on the floor. 

She was a little nervous, she'd read all she could find on apparition, but knew that it took more than the understanding of the theory to get something this complicated right. 

It wasn't often that Nicholas found himself excited for anything that fell under the category of a class.  But he'd been eager to learn apparition since the first time he saw a witch disappear into thin air in the middle of Diagon Alley.  When he'd found out that he wouldn't be able to do it himself till he was seventeen, he had been disappointed.  The idea of splinching had never put him off, despite the horror stories he'd been told everytime he asked why he couldn't learn it then, well before he turned seventeen.

He'd been even more disappointed when he'd realized that he wouldn't be able to take the class before he turned seventeen back in November.  Actually, he might have taken the head off a dueling dummy in a bout of frustration.  He'd had to use muggle transportation over the Christmas holiday even though he could otherwise use magic as he pleased.

Needless to say, Nicholas was showing more interest in this particular class than any other in the previous seventeen years of his life.  So much so that if it hadn't been for a Ravenclaw pushing her way into the first row, he'd have been front and center instead of in the second row of seven.  He'd also almost hexed her, but his excitement held his temper in check for once.

A young woman[1]stood out to him, having arrived early and taken a prime position in the lines.  She looked nervous and he frowned, his lined face scrunching up and wrinkling deeply.  It was natural of course, but she would certainly have to get over that.  Deliberation and anxiety did not make good bedfellows and he predicted she might be the first to splinch unless she gained some confidence before her first try.

There was a jostle near the back, but Twycross ignored it.  He'd learned long ago to ignore the scuttling and no-goodery of youths.  If things got to bad, he could eject them.  Otherwise they were only impeding their own advancement into the ranks of Wizarding Society.

He tut-tut'd and then checked the meticulously polished pocket watch.  The third hand was pointing to Nearly.

1.

Imari

Jordyn didn’t necessarily want to learn how to apparate, but it was a necessary skill and her parents had written her specifically to check up on her progress in classes – including getting her license.  She’d scoffed the entire time she read the letter – did they even care about her precious limbs being severed off in a freak splinching accident?

She wasn’t sure she would actually splinch, she was a skilled witch.. but the threat was there and it was be horribly embarrassing.  The whole thing was probably going to be embarrassing – she’d read horror stories about people leaving behind articles of clothing or appendages.  She didn’t want to lose any precious little piece of herself, nor did she want to show up on the other side without an important piece of clothing! 

Jordyn did not make her way toward the front, but comfortably situated herself in the back-middle of the pack (perhaps a first for Dimbleby, who tended to find herself firmly routed at the front, much like her overeager classmate, Imari).  She hoped it would start soon, she thought as she looked at the shriveled instructor.  If she had the chance, she might have yanwed before she was pushed forward, unsteady on her feet as someone collided with her shoulder.  After regaining her footing, Jordyn turned with a sharp flick of her hair to glare at them so hard... if looks could kill... “Pardon me?” she frowned,“has class gotten in the way of your attempts to be beasts?”

Apparation lessons were a terrible idea.

That thought kept Taryn from joining "the lines" when she arrived, preferring instead to duck around to the far wall and stand with her back to the stone, her arms folded nervously over her chest. She couldn't hide, of course. As usual, she towered at twice her classmates' heights, her black uniform slacks stained with dirt and her purple shirt un-tucked with the sleeves roll. She drummed her fingers against her elbow and tried to look nonchalant, but she couldn't mask her nervous energy any more than her towering frame.

Taryn didn't know much about Apparation yet, but she knew that it involved using magic on your own body. For a half-giant who'd inherited a fraction of her father's magical resistance, that was a recipe for disaster.

Best-case scenario, it worked. She'd be fine. That seemed unlikely. Second-best, it just wouldn't work on her. She could live with that. Worst-case, it would partially work. She'd get splinched. Horribly. Would the healers even know what to do with her when that happened?

Taryn shuddered, but squared her shoulders and refused to budge from her post. This was not her first rodeo. She was going to run, however stupid that decision might turn out to be.

Xavier was actually excited about this class. It would be rather beneficial if he could apparate. It was much harder to trace someone who was apparating, not like flying on a broom or the blasted Floo Network. Sure there were unplottable places, and those like Hogwarts which had anti-apparition spells about them but more often than not one could get around quite easily while apparating and Xavier was eager to learn how.

It was a shame Cadance couldn't be at his side for this. She wouldn't be Seventeen until the summer whereas he was lucky enough to have his birthday on the actual exam day (what a birthday present that would be) Instead of the lovely lady Bulstrode Xavier had positioned himself next to Jordyn whom he was surprised to see anywhere but the front row. Perhaps little High and Mighty wanted to blend into the background for once in her life. Xavier saw it as an extra treat. It gave him the chance to rustle her feathers away from the eye of the aging instructor.

When she sniped at someone who had bumped into her Xavier couldn't help himself. He leaned over with a sly smile, "No worries Dimbleby, I'm sure 'e was jus tryin' ta cop a feel." He gave her a playful wink only because he knew it would annoy her before turning his eyes back to the front.

Peyton had been Seventeen for almost the entire school year and still wasn't ready to be viewed as an adult by the Greater Wizarding World. Getting his Apparition Liscence would just be one more step towards that seemingly unobtainable title. He was excited though, fascinated really. Just the thought of being able to teleport to anywhere in the world was enough to make him ignore the possible horrible consequences. He supposed it had a lot to do with the lack of apparition in his life. His mother was a muggle and his father had given up magic. Even today he rarely used it. He didn't have a wand, or if he had one Peyton had never seen it. It was a subject that wasn't really brought up around the dinner table. His younger sister had once asked about it, Peyton could still remember that dark, distant and dangerous look that had come over his father's eyes.

Peyton stood somewhere around the middle, not in the front enough to be noticed but not in the back enough to miss anything crucial. He was eager to do well in this class. He was failing, or struggling with so many others there had to be something other than Quidditch he was naturally good at.

Josh was excited for Apparition lessons.Finally, he would be able to Apparate. He was getting sick and tired of needing to use the Floo to get to Diagon Alley. All it would take is getting this right. He hoped he wouldn't splinch. Though eh had heard of a couple of amusing stories from his parents. Needless to say, he had been reading up on the theory. Choosing a hoop well away from the minor chaos usual to any lesson involving his yearmates, he waited for them to begin.

As the great clock tower chimed the hour, Mr Twycross's pocket watch jingled off-key to indicate the hand had reached Shall We Begin?.

He put it away and cleared his throat like the sound of try, cold gravel. 

"Shall we begin?"

Without waiting for an affirmative, he began.

"I am Mister Twycross and I will be instructing you towards capable, safe Apparition.  A Licence to Apparate is required to practice Apparate legally.  This is an intensive, condensed form of the course and each session will be two hours with an extra hour available for independent study.

"Apparition is a magical spell by which a witch or wizard may instantly cross distances by slipping out of existence and then back again.  It is wordless spell that is difficult to master but the rewards of dedicated study are many.  No witch or wizard is worth his salt if he cannot Apparate."

That bit was meant to instill in the young students the importance of taking this seriously.  It was not in Twycross's interest if a student chose to fiddle about - it was in their own.  Should they dawdle or jape they'd find themselves well behind their peers in a most embarrassing, squib-like existence until they pulled up their boots.

"Shortly we shall commence, but first, history."

The next fifteen minutes comprised of a detailed, date-heavy description of the development and regulation of the spell and a few notable uses.  Twycross recited it without visual aide (and one wondered what the chalkboard was even for) and with little inflection.  He was a master of lecture and rote and he knew the students would appreciate the context of the storied and nuanced spell they'd soon be learning.

---

If it please you, you can enter your student's name in this spreadsheet so we know where everyone is because I am a dork.

Crossing her arms and tucking her hands under armpits– to avoid doing something silly, like nibble on her nails the way she wanted to– Gracie kept her eyes on the instructor, trying to count the wrinkles on that wrinkly, bespectacled face.

It was that or let herself feel nervous, which, no; there were worse things, she knew, other than the dubious but very possible likelihood of splinching. Splinching wasn’t painless, and you never really knew what part you might lose (though records seemed to favor limbs), but there were more than one way of re-attaching errant hands and feet, she was sure. Otherwise, the minimum age wouldn’t be seventeen, when people were still doing stuff that was stupid enough, that older people pinned on to their age.

And yet. Amputation. It never really got less horrifying, seeing a part of you just lie there, unattached. And though she knew, rationally speaking, she’d never end up like the animals that did on her granddad’s butcher block, the thought didn’t provide much in the way of comfort.

“Oy, knock it off,” Gracie hissed– lowly, of course, and not perhaps not that harshly; it was only Tawse being… well, Tawse, after all, and there were dozens of people worse than he –but the glance she slid Xavier was too steely to be anything but firm.

She very nearly regretted it, though, when the instructor launched into a very involved, long-winded speech that made her eyes glaze with the flashbacks of Austerlitz’s lessons. She had gotten an A in History for a reason.

Bran took his place at Jordyn's side just in time to hear Tawse being the unrefined sleazy little bugger he was. With a raised eyebrow he shook his perfect, lustrous curls and pursed his lips at Xavier. "Ignore the pleb, darling" he said still glaring at Xavier, only to turn to Jordyn with a dazzling smile.

It wasn't that Bran was nervous, not really... He was, however, deeply discontented with the fact that this was taking place so late in the afternoon. Some of them had lives and better things to do at this time of day. Bran's displeasure only grew more when the old geezer embarked on a lengthy and terribly dull history on apparition. More than once, the youngest Blackwell son found himself yawning and muttering. By the end of the speech, his head was resting on Jordyn's shoulder as he absently played with her hair.

"We'll do perfectly fine, honey" he said softly in Jordyn's ear, waving a hand casually. They most certainly would. Caution was one thing, but fear was another thing. Bran saw no use of fear when he knew both of them were absolutely fabulous, and quite smart to boot. "If Kinsey was able to get his license, I'd say we're all quite safe" he added with a little snort.

Shy, quiet Imari was getting angry. Here they were supposed to be learning about apparition and her fellow Slytherins were being themselves. Normally she wouldn't say anything to them, she tried to stay out of their way for the most part, especially some of the darker ones.  But this was an important skill for all wizarding folk to have and she could barely concentrate on the wizard who was supposed to be teaching them.

In a very rare moment of courage, Imari turned to face what she assumed to be the direction of the other Slytherins, mostly because she didn't really want to say anything and her courage dropped a bit at the thought of doing so, and said in a loud whisper, "Would you lot can it, I'm trying to pay attention."  And she turned back around, her face heating with embarrassment, a little adrenaline, and ... a little fear.

Being aggravated was only going to encourage Tawse, she knew that.  However logical she could be, that did not mean she was able to stop her eyes from rolling or the scoff that inevitably escaped her.  “Don’t be disgusting, Tawse,” she sneered, turning her head to fix her hair while two of her good friends soared down to her rescue as well.
 
Perhaps with the pressure of more than just Jordyn telling him to stop being a dog he would lay off and do what he had to do – pay attention and learn how to apparate.  If not, she would be happy to see certain parts of his anatomy splinched off.  He’d certainly fail to open his mouth again were that to happen. 

She refocused after mouthing a “thank you,” to Gracie behind Tawse’s back and looked to Bran who assumed a place at her side, nodding at his advice before she reached over to squeeze his hand.  She gave it a little squeeze, both reassuring and nervous, before her head tilted to the side, realizing that the old man up at the front was actually lecturing at them.   It didn't help that Imari - fellow Slytherin, though it seemed in name only right now, chastised them.  Jordyn raised her eyebrows but pursed her lips, she needn't start anything else: the girl was probably directing her comments at Tawse anyway.

With a groan, Jordyn shifted her weight from one foot to the other and slowly started to lean, just like Bran.  Torture was paramount to this experiment, she realized, and the fact that it gave her time to consider which limb she would miss the least was enough for her to almost not even hear Bran’s vote of confidence.  “I know,” she shrugged a little as she whispered, looking to the instructor, “I’d just rather keep all of this,” she motioned to her body, “in one piece.”

Xavier was just happy he had managed to get under Jordyn's skin. It wasn't as if they were enemies or anything, hardly, he could still remember dancing with her at Signature with Strellie and Huck, drunk off their arses all that time ago. She was just really fun to bother. The fact that he had somehow managed to bother every other Slytherin in the area was just an added bonus.

He was a little surprised at Gracie's retort and raised an eyebrow to let her know. Normally she didn't mind his comments, perhaps this class was really just that important to her. Blackwell on the other hand, well Tawse had quite a lot to say about that one and none of it was anywhere near as pretty as Bran's perfectly conditioned locks. He raised his hands in a mock surrender as two more voices chimed in, that of Dimbleby herself and possibly the most surprising was of little Immi up front. While his hands suggested surrender his eyes sparkled and a wry smirk curled his lips. He gave both a general look as if to say, you know you love me before turning his attention back to the front.

Despite his little interruption he was quite keen on excelling in this class and soaked in as much of the lecture as he could not showing the outward signs of boredom that some of the others seemed to exhibiting. The history wasn't as important as the actual practical application but Twycross seemed like the kind of Ministry blowhard that wouldn't give them their licence unless they could recite some asinine facts regardless of how well they performed.