The Professor was tossing a live mouse to one of the creepy looking creatures that gurgled in the tanks down one side of the classroom when Lyons turned up like clockwork. The Gryffindor was one of his brightest in the NEWT class, well, quite a few of them were particularly bright, but he tried not to let on too much to keep them pushing, and Lyons included.

There was one hinderance for Lyons was that every full moon the girl took sick and was isolated for her affliction. This meant that should it fall in the week, she would miss a day's lessons, or perhaps two if her health was not as strong.

Each of the students would make up their time with the Professors, who were expected to be as accommodating as possible with the timing of lessons, and preparing them work ahead or after the date. Sometimes it was easier to teach her and Trumble, as classmates, together, though other occasions one required a little more support than the other in a concept, or book work and study was the only requirement, and they didn't need to meet.

On this Saturday evening however, the eve of Remembering Day, it was Lyons alone, which gave them a little flexibility with covering what was missed, and for Lyons to quiz him on any of her own personal study, which he encouraged with all the students who strived to reach the highest of grades next summer.

"Evening, Lyons." The Professor greeted in a pleasant tone. Being on time, prepared and switched on in mind in a student made him an altogether nicer Professor. "I trust you read ahead on the week as usual?" He slid the lid back on the tank and dusted his hands off with a cloth, turning to observe her properly.

The days were gradually becoming milder, and with tending to things before her arrival, his white shirt sleeves were rolled up to below his elbows beneath his dark grey waistcoat. His tie was slightly loose, his jacket hung over the back of the chair at the front of the classroom, where the familiar sandtimer had long emptied is grains into the bottom half on Friday during the last lesson of the day, before he'd slid out to the pub with Professor Elliot from Durmstrang, and well, erm...

"Are you well?" He asked, tone ever so slightly tentative - as if he regretted asking almost the moment he voiced the query. He didn't normally take an interest in the wellbeing of his students, unless they were screaming with pain, minus a limb, or on fire, and even then it was with disdain.

Tossing the cloth aside it folded itself up neatly beside the sink.
"Have you managed to practice further with wards?" He asked, referring to what the sixth years had been focusing on that week. Wards that could hide sight, smell, sound, wards that could raise an alarm if crossed, or eject an intruder. There was quite a business in the wizarding world of people who could set them up on your home with some guarantee, but doing your own was always admired.

Camelia had missed Professor Storm's last couple of lessons, due to her...sickness. It had taken its toll more than usual this month, and Camelia was still feeling rather weak from the effects. But she wanted to catch up and not fall behind any further. It was the eve of Remembering Day and so the castle had a rather somber tone to it, by and large. Of course there were those students who didn't care about what tomorrow would be, and were wandering around laughing and joking and being stupid as usual. But Camelia was not one of those students, as she made her way to the classroom.

She entered the Professor's classroom right on time, as she was notorious for being punctual. Some teachers said it was practically unnatural the way she never showed up late. "Good evening, Professor," she replied, nodding at him in greeting. She was no fool,she knew that Professor Storm favored her above many of the other students, and Camelia wanted to take full advantage of that in order to obtain the best work quality possible in DADA.

"Yes, of course Sir. It was quite interesting, I enjoyed most of the material," she told him. She'd grown used to her Professor in this state of dress, but she had to admit that it had taken her a while to get used to it back when they'd started these private lessons. She didn't blame him for the way he was dressed, after all she'd settled for a nice jumper and trousers, minus the robes this evening.

Camelia knew it must have made Professor Storm uncomfortable to ask her how she was, so she simply waved her hand and gave him a brief smile. "I'm alright Professor, thank you."

"I've been doing my best, but of course it's difficult to find the time in between my other classes. I managed to cast a decent one the other night, but I had difficulty holding it for long periods of time." She had really done quite well, given she hadn't had very much practical observation, but she was frustrated to find herself unable to maintain the spell.

"I see." The Professor spoke quietly, instilling self-doubt from the hint of disappointment to his tone.

Camelia's classmates had all had struggles with their wards or combinations of in various guises, though Professor Storm didn't ever want to give one student the excuse that another found it hard. Wards were best cast with the producer within them, though for the exam they might also have to cast them on a makeshift dwelling - at least a large part of the practical the previous summer from the exam board had covered precisely that.[1] So much of the focus had been on that during the lesson. 

"It is easiest to focus on warding individual aspects at first." He headed towards his desk, flipped open the top of a cardboard box and rifled inside it with both hands to check everything from the NEWT lesson was in there, before lifting the whole box with a flick of his wand and carrying it to the first line of student desks where Camelia was. The contents clanked and rattled as he did, and the bottom of the box scuffed on the desk as it landed.

"Last year the NEWT practical included the demonstration of wards. The examiners had a source of light," he fished out a tiny lantern and placed it on the desk unlit, "source of sound," out came a battered portable wireless, which was much more tolerable than the ringing alarm clock that the actual exam had used, "and a strong smell, which we'll come to."

He took the wireless and the lantern away to another desk six feet from them, drawing the chair from under it and clearing a little space around it for ease. The lantern puttered into life behind the glass and metal case, and the wireless crackled as he turned the knobs to a mundane channel, catching some shipping forecast from the sound of the repetitive dull explanation in male monotone.

"It wasn't possible to touch any of the items." He added, briefly extending an arm to indicate she could examine them no closer, forgetting it was the arm with his ugly splinching scar at the wrist from the previous year[2]. He slipped his hands into his trouser pockets as he looked from her to the desk and back again, keen to get her describing her thought process verbally.

"Now, these items are unwarded, tell me how do I know they are there?"

1.	2009 Exam
2.	February 2009

Camelia heard the disappointment in her Professor's voice, but despite what he might have wished for it to cause, Camelia felt no sense of insecurity. She spent enough time feeling insecure about her condition, she didn't go about doubting herself when it came to academics. And definitely not when it related to Defense Against the Dark Arts. Professor Storm could think what he liked of her.

Camelia nodded as she listened, watching as her Professor approached his desk. She watched with careful and attentive eyes as he sorted through it, before flicking his wand and bringing the entire box with him over to where Camelia stood. She was unbothered by the scuffing made by the box, these desks were all beaten up and worn down as it was.

"Oh yes, I remember some of the 7th years talking about that," Camelia commented, as Professor Storm spoke. She watched with curiousity as he pulled out the lantern, and the wireless. She watched intently as he fiddled with the two devices, setting them up on the other desk. She nodded when he told her she wouldn't be able to get any closer, making sure she kept her distance.

Camelia frowned, staring at the objects. "Were the students allowed to use magic on the items, Sir?" she asked, her brow furrowed.

"No, not on the items directly, so you couldn't silence them, or extinguish the light. You have to leave them to remain how they are, but ward them from the outside. If you imagine, they represent your home with you and your family within, you need to continue to conduct your business within while those outside are repelled, or unaware of your presence."

He gestured to the items and then drew his wand, non-verbally casting the necessary spells - so that the desk seemed to fade from sight and the lantern and the wireless with them. They could still hear the shipping forecast until the professor turned his wand in his hand and gave a little nod to himself as silence fell.

"Non verbal so as not to give you any clues," he explained with a raised eyebrow, and then with a swift, sharp gesture of his wand, the whole illusion fell away - there was a desk, the lantern and the wireless was as loud as before. "If you'd been sat on the desk with them, nothing would have changed for you at all, do you see?"

Edit:

Although Lyons looked initially at sea with the concept of achieving such, it didn't take her too long to begin to work out the necessary steps to achieving the silence of the wireless, the shipping forecast fading.

End