Jordyn was taking advantage of office hours.  Studying alone was one thing, particularly when one was preparing for written examinations, but Professor Storm’s final was going to be practical application, and she’d rather not practice with a classmate.  She didn’t trust anyone to not talk about how she was still having trouble with her patronus, nor did she want anyone to know that she wasn’t a particularly quick duelist.  It just wasn’t Jordyn’s forte as a student.  She was academic, cerebral. 

Sure, she could work with her hands, but it was more methodical – she liked thinking time.  She was good at that.  So, when Professor Storm had opened his doors in the evenings to students who needed help, Jordyn had tried to be as discreet as possible in requesting an appointment (she didn’t want anyone else coming to her review session if she could avoid it). 

Climbing to the Defense classroom, Jordyn fiddled with her wand in her hand and she sighed.  It was so weird to think that she only had one more year of climbing these stairs – of being around this place.  She hoped the last year would be worth it.  Sixth year had certainly challenged her in a lot of ways she never would have expected.  Maybe it was just preparing her for seventh year. 

Hopefully she would have the opportunity to prove herself.  Of course today, in trying to get her work done for her final (which she really needed help on) – but also next year when she’d hopefully be wearing her Head Girl badge and assuming the position she’d rightfully earned over the years.  Now, of course, she always reminded herself that there were others who thought the same of their performance, so she couldn’t put her eggs in one basket, but she really, really hoped that she didn’t need to make a back-up plan. 

Walking up to the classroom, she rapped her knuckles on the door, waiting for the door to swing open for her to walk in.  As soon as it did, Jordyn poked her head in and called out quietly.  “Professor Storm?  I’m here for my appointment,” if that wasn’t obvious or anything.   She made her way through the threshold of the room and stood in the doorway, glancing around to find where the professor might be lurking.

---

Thread title taken from Robert Kiyosaki, "The size of your success is measured by the strength of your desire; the size of your dream; and how you handle disappointment along the way."

He could hear her footsteps approaching the classroom door from down the corridor. Dimbleby had specifically requested some time just to herself, as per the Professor's offer to all his students during the exam period. For some of them, they didn't get the option.

"Professor Storm? I'm here for my appointment."
"Evening Dimbleby." He spoke quietly from the other side of the door which opened into the classroom. "Do close the door." He slid the books from his arm into their rightful places in the bookcase.

"I've not long got rid of a group of fifth years, recapping some of the dryer corners of unforgiveable legislation. It's not enough to know the reasons for and the curses which they cover, one has to know the year they were classified, and the events prior." He explained, "In the vain hope that remembering it was 1717 will give you the presence of mind to present a shield or take cover behind something sizeable." He dusted his hands off.

"Now," he turned to her properly, slipping his hands into his pockets, "enlighten me of the agenda for the next hour. Practical applications, was it?" His gaze had dropped momentarily to inspect what she was carrying with her.

Jordyn was happy to see, when she entered the room that there were no other students present.  It was a rare treat, and of immeasurable value to get one-on-one instruction.  At his instruction, she shut the door behind herself before she turned again, locating the professor’s form in the dreary classroom. 

With each step having a greater purpose, Jordyn slowly approached the bookshelves that the professor was stocking.  Apparently, there had been some review with younger years before she had come and she couldn’t help but let a little smirk flit over her features: it was so funny, to hear him sarcastically speak of knowledge that wouldn’t be practically applicable when one was actively defending against the dark arts. 

Jordyn was very good at that part, she could have listed off all of the unforgivables and the events that led to the creation of laws that made them as such, she could have talked about the years and cases presented, but the piece that he valued: the practice of it… well, Jordyn rubbed her ear against her shrugged shoulder, buying herself a moment as her lips and mouth were suddenly very dry. 

When he finally turned toward her, Jordyn lifted her head quickly (practically giving herself whiplash) and cleared her throat.  An hour of time with the professor – for some reason it seemed so long to say – but she knew it’d be much shorter than that.  “Yes,” she finally said in a strangled voice, sort of squeaking as she did – composure! She practically screamed inside her head.  This was her turn to make a good impression on him after her dismal display of rule breaking with Jai. 

“Yes, practical application,” she informed the teacher with a stronger voice.  “I am so close to a corporal patronus, but I haven’t quite gotten it yet, and I know there is usually a dueling component of this final exam, so I wanted to get your feedback on how I could improve my technique.”  She thought that sounded smart, and like she wasn’t a complete dunce about these things. 

Dimbleby found her voice soon enough and confirmed the two areas she most wanted to focus on.

"Other than daily practice, close attention to detail, and regular work to improve balance?" The Professor replied with a shrug of his shoulders, lifting his hands from his pockets as he gazed steadily at his student without blinking for longer than was perhaps comfortable.

"There is often a duelling component of the exam, certainly a strong practical exploration of your shields is usually on the cards. What with the dementor issues this summer, almost certainly the patronus will be on the paper." He folded his arms, "Though often I think it's a bit of a crowd pleaser with the examiners, plenty of other valid charms and incantations to use to save your own skin." His expression was dismissive, but it wasn't that he disbelieved the patronus charm was important, just that the exam board, the ministry and subsequently his students, had become fixated on it of late, which wasn't helping with the achievement.

"Where would you prefer to begin? Which do you feel is of more concern?" His arms dropped to his side and he walked a few paces in a circle as he asked, keen to get down to work.

There was a big part of Jordyn who always felt small in front of people who were impressive.  She desperately wanted to be someone who meant something, but she was keenly aware that at the moment it was tenuous at best if she ever attained such a level of command and prestige.  So, as the dismissive answer she had to remind herself he wouldn’t have let her come here to work if he didn’t at least thing she tried on her own. 

She didn’t suspect Professor Storm was one of the professors would waste his time with students who hadn’t bothered to keep up during the course of the year.  That would be false hope and impractical, after all.  He was not that sort of man.  “My technique is poor,” she said honestly – though one could guess poor for Jordyn was probably not quite as bad as it seemed.  “I always feel awkward in my wrists and forearms,” she explained further, “it would benefit to have your eyes and see what I’m doing wrong.”   

Class was not the sort of place one got specific instruction unless one was making a fool of one’s self or excelling.  Jordyn always seemed to float in the passable region of most things, meaning attention grabbing was not exactly her forte.  With some… colorful classmates also in their NEWT years, it seemed highly unlikely.  His thoughts on the patornus charm, of course, echoed the sentiments in her head, but she chewed her lip for a moment before steeling herself.  “I’m just concerned if they ask for that specific incantation,” she said honestly.  “I’m aware of the other methods to save myself – but with everything…” her voice trailed off, “I couldn’t imagine it wouldn’t be a component they’d be testing for.” 

She supposed, however, that if there was a definite sort of thing – like a dueling component, that was where she would start.   After all, she’d given Professor Storm a specific thing to look for and whatever else he found would just be a bonus.  “Since the dueling component seems most likely, I’d like to start there,” she reasoned out loud, and then looked at him expectantly for directions while she idly turned her wand in her hand to get an appropriate hold. 

It was difficult with such a great number of students studying his subject to a NEWT level, to give each of them enough individual time. This was why he opened his doors to them outside of their timetabled lessons, for those to take the initiative, and those who didn't, but should have, would be weeded out as soon as possible. Dimbleby had made the right choice.

"Very good." The Professor replied, his eyes glancing upwards automatically as he searched his memory for his observations of Jordyn in practical sessions in their lessons.

"Your technique is certainly not as fluid as some of your classmates, but at least it flows in part." He remarked, "Part of it is confidence, Dimbleby which will come with accomplishment of exercises. You also have the syllabus list of required spells for the assessment which you should be revising each day to refine."

He turned on the spot, surveying the classroom around them thoughtfully, forming a plan in his head already. Snapping back to look at her, he placed his hands on his hips, wand in hand.

"Show me your natural stance. First things first, we'll see what we're working with."

As Dimbleby obliged, the Professor circled her slowly, studying angles as if she were a painting for valuation. With a sudden movement, he reached his right hand out, wand held in the crook of his thumb, pointing down his wrist as he did, and pushed her firmly on the shoulder with his fingertips together, pushing against her balance.

"As I suspected, tense. If you're tense, you lose your movement in your arms and your centre of gravity is elevated." He took a step towards her, closer than he habitually would stand to a student, but his focus was purely on solving her problem rather than intentionally intimidating her.

"Take a breath, down to the bottom of your lungs and let it out. Roll your shoulders back - good -" another prod, "try once more. There. Raise your wand arm a little more, good." He stood back a few paces and considered, still intently staring at Dimbleby as he stepped round to face her instead from a few feet away, folding his arms loosely across his chest.

"Now, drop your stance entirely  and take it up once more, thinking about the tension in your shoulders." Her stance was not bad overall.

"Good, Now, try a few simple movements, just to see if that has made a difference before we throw anything heavier." He watched her for a moment, and then stepped slowly backwards, creating some space between them.

"Cast one of your repertoire you're most confident with, and then your least." He clicked his fingers to indicate he wanted the answers swiftly, raising his own wand in readiness to receive.

“I know the syllabus by heart,” Jordyn replied earnestly.  She was not one to go without revising for hours on end and if it was a list of required spells, you can imagine she memorized it.  Additionally, she was the type of student who memorized things simply by looking at them.  But, unfortunately, just because she had them memorized did not necessarily mean she was a master at them. 

The Professor was right.  She did not flow in duels.  She imagined she rarely flowed in anything.  She was a stiff person, had rigid lines and an unshakable exterior (at least to some) – so that part she needed to work on.  At the command to show her stance, Jordyn, of course, arranged herself in the way she would stand before a duel, legs slightly spread to give herself some stability, putting weight toward the front of her feet, her wrist bent awkwardly- it wasn’t a natural position for her, simple things she could do, but being ready to strike… that wans’t something she was good at.

A little bit more anxiety than even usual built up in her chest Professor Storm circled her – it was like knowing you were dying because a vulture was ready to treat you like carrion.  Her heart might have jumped to her throat as well, particularly when he pushed against her and forced her to move.  Of course, she fought against it which was probably how he arrived at the conclusion that she was tense. 

His instructions seemed so simple, but he was rather scary when he was near her and Jordyn struggled to relax at all.  She let her hands fall to her side and let out a deep breath, rolling her eyes upward to glance at the ceiling as she took a breath in, bouncing between both of her toes before she let out another breath and nodded: resolute. 

Getting back into position, she tried to focus on making her shoulders less tight and let out another deep breath.  Her most confident defensive spell, oddly enough, was one that she rarely had to use.  Focusing on a candelabra in the distance (it was the only thing to wrap around, Jordyn set her mouth in a firm line and furrowed her brows.  “Incarcerous,” she looped her movement fairly easily and a thick rope shot out from the tip of her wand, wrapping around the wrought iron pole and visibly constricted around the slender shape.  She glanced at Professor Storm and then frowned.

She supposed the worst spell she had was the other one she came here to work on.  She tried to put anxiety out of her head and thought of something happy.  For a moment in her mind that made her happy.  It was so simple, seeing a moment she thought to be her happiest – with Neely, just enjoying some frozen cocoa, the wireless, and magazines. It was when she didn’t have to worry, that was happiness.  Pointing her arm out, she slowly started to draw her wand in little circles, like she’d read in her textbook and repeated the incantation “expecto patronum” as if she’d been practicing it for weeks (she had).  But, instead of anything happening, a small wisp of a white puff came out of her wand.  It was so pathetic she could practically hear it wheeze and creak like a stodgy old miser’s lungs. 

Frowning, she got out of her ready stance and looked to the Professor.  She knew there was something wrong with the way she was holding her hand – she figured there was probably something wrong with her posture but she’d never been corrected on it.  Bad habits were hard to break and it was only now becoming supremely important to fix those things.  “I find constricting spells to be fairly easy,” Jordyn explained to him, “body binds and anything else,” she glanced to the candelabra that was still being strangled and flicked her wand so the rope could drop and disappear before turning her attention back to the professor, “and you’d think the concentration required would be the same – but it doesn’t seem to be… working.”

Dimbleby resolved herself to the task pleasingly, binding the candlestick from beside the desk with ease, despite the frown on her face. Then the patronus which came not at all, but just a puff of smoke. Curious.

Several years of casting had allowed her to settle into habits and her natural postures. Although textbooks would insist on perfect posture for casting, when someone was throwing spells at you outside of controlled environments, you had to contort yourself into all sorts of positions to avoid losing limbs or life. It would be little good to start correcting Dimbleby in that way - she would potentially lose all confidence in what talents she had yet to really unleash.

"You would think, so." He agreed to Jordyn's observation. "Though I'm sure someone with far more insight into our personalities and minds might make suggestion that your interest and talents with constriction is reflection of self." He shifted his folded arms and gave a shrug, "But I am no authority on that." He straightened almost immediately and took a couple of paces towards her.

"Between casting incarcerous and expecto patronum, what do you feel are the greatest differences? You cite the concentration, but they are vastly different spells. Should they not require different approaches to cast them?" He asked, though the question was posed quite rhetorically, "Concentration is required for all magic, but there is so much more above it. Especially with the patronus."

 There was something strange about suggesting that one’s strengths with magic had something to do with their personality.  It was probably true to some extent.  She was very good at keeping things close, squeezing in what she was thinking or feeling and putting on a completely different face.  Perhaps that was part of the problem with her patronus. 

Frowning a little bit, Jordyn twisted her wand in her hand.  She didn’t want to really get too into it with Professor Storm – obviously he was not here to do any kind of mental analysis on her.  She didn’t really want to do that either – it would color his perspective of her in another way entirely and she was here to turn that around.  She did not want him to think any less of her – after already having the curfew kerfluffle she didn’t need to be a box of crazy on top of it.  They wouldn’t want to pick a head girl who was totally insane.

Jordyn just had to keep that part of her secret until she got her badge.  The questions though were at least a better direction to take, something she could do more than nod at.  Pursing her lips, she considered the idea.  “For incarcerous, I have a better picture of exactly what I want to happen.  I can look at my target and there is a concreteness about casting it that appeals to me.”  There was a pause and Jordyn tapped her wand against the side of her leg, “With my patronus, it feels like the more I concentrate, the less clear it becomes.  I don’t know what my patronus looks like – or what it’s going to be, so I can’t think about it.”  That was true, a corporeal patronus took time to come to the caster, you couldn’t know until it happened. 

“I also know you have to be happy or thinking of something happy in order to make it happen.  I don’t think I’m happy when I’m doing it – it makes me nervous, even though I think of a happy memory, I don’t know.” She paused for a moment.  “Do you find you have to actually be happy when you’re casting it?  I think that could be what’s missing.” 

"Quite, I agree with the reasoning," the Professor nodded at Dimbleby's thoughts on why she found a spell she could easily visualise and target a lot easier than one she had yet to see the shape of.
"And although it is little consolation in the short term, you will find it easier to cast once you have seen it take shape for the first time for the very same reason." He inclined his head towards her as she went on, trying to listen intently. Despite his mean appearance amongst the students, he did actually give a knut about whether they performed well, as long as it was not sob story reasoning.

"I also know you have to be happy…  …. do you find you have to actually be happy when you're casting it? I think that could be what's missing." Dimbleby asked.

"Genuine happiness when you learn," the Professor replied a little more softly than before, and let his eyes glance upwards as he remembered his own days learning, "is a lot more productive for a result, but as one gets older and more cynical it more about the ability to capture that feeling and moment to produce the spell." A hand slid from behind him, grasping the air before him as he explained, eyes narrowing a moment as he admitted it. "Though one has to revisit the memory to ensure it still has the same potency."

His hand went to his chin for a moment in contemplation, and then extended away from him, moving gently as illustration to his explanation:
"For the fluidity of your casting - try casting a series of spells one after the other, from standing, then walking forwards," he took a few paces across the classroom in demonstration, "wand movements that switch sides - as if you were speaking a sentence, to trickier combinations as if you were attempting a tongue twister."

He stopped, turned on his heel and paced back to Jordyn, hand returning behind his back as he walked.
"I will come up with two or three series on parchment to set you off, later. Oh and," his fingers clicked as it came to mind, "try casting without your wand in your hand, towards a mirror. You'll be more aware of your movements." He stopped a few feet before her and looked at her critically, picking up on something she mentioned earlier.

"Dimbleby, why are you nervous to recall your happiest memories?" He'd have hazarded a guess that her happiest memories related to Mr Patil.

It felt good that she had some of the theoretical bit behind the magic down.  Even if it wasn’t going to help her do better right now, she knew it meant a lot for the type of magic that she was most skilled at and could practice regularly to become even better.  She also knew it was a skill she could attempt to put into practice with many other spells.  It wasn’t just for this class. 

“I even try imagining what sort of animal I think will come out of my wand,” she explained to him, “but that only seems to make it worse.  Barely a breath of smoke.”  She’d imagined everything from a house cat to a bat to even beetles and snakes… in a moment of desperation, she’d even pictured a worm springing forth from her wand.  There was only a tiny bit of relief when that didn’t work.  “But it’s not that sort of spell,” she pursed her lips, “or I’d be excelling at it.” 

She was a little bit relieved though that it would be easier, that genuine happiness wasn’t exactly what needed to be in her grasp when she was casting the spell – even if it would help.  Some people were not lucky enough to be happy to be able to do such a thing, Jordyn quickly realized.  She knew Professor Storm was quite stoic, she sometimes doubted if he could feel happiness. 

Clearly, he had to be able to or he wouldn’t have a patronus at all.  Maybe that was at least a little glimmer of hope for her.  If Storm could do it… it had to be possible, even for someone like Jordyn. 

She liked his next suggestion though and nodded vigorously as he spoke.  “That sounds very helpful,” Jordyn made sure to agree – she’d be very comfortable practicing like that.  The challenge in it would be good for her and it would strengthen her ability to be fluid.  In the field, when she would be working as a healer, she supposed that would be useful as well. 

It was the right choice to request a private tutoring session, Jordyn realized, and then as she was about to brandish her wand to apply the very practical skill he was asking of her, he had a much more introspective question to ask.  Her wand arm dropped and her hold of her wand loosened, so it merely rested on her gloved fingertips. 

She was silent for several moments, unsure of what to say.  She was nervous, that was true, but she didn’t know she was giving off that sort of energy, particularly about that.  And she gnawed on the inner part of her lip.  “If I may be honest, Professor,” Jordyn tried to still the shaking she thought she heard in her voice in an effort to sound a little more grown and confident, “I don’t know a memory happy enough to be my happiest.  Sure, I’ve been happy in the past… but I don’t know.”

At that response, Dimbleby received a rare look of genuine concern from the Professor. It passed by in a matter of seconds as he managed to find something remotely comforting to respond with. Though he wasn't very good at that! His mere expression usually induced self-doubt.
 
"I am sure that is not the case, Dimbleby - the memory just hasn't come to light. We do all manner of strange things in our minds when it comes to sorting and organising our thoughts." She would probably disagree, after all he wasn't in her head. The comment at face value was dismissive, but he meant it more that perception of happiness was relative. "Focus less on the golden, perfect happy memory ideal instead, try a different tact."

He paused, thinking of a way to describe what he was getting at. Dimbleby was a clever girl, daresay she might have already considered it.
"Consider a set of memories, of associations that make you happiest. It might be spending time with a friend, it might be celebrating your birthday, or pelting snowballs at unfortunate Gryffindors." He frowned a little as he considered his own patronus memories. None were quite suitable to share with one of his students!
"… Illicit moments in the gardens with Mr Patil, even." He raised an eyebrow and smirked. "Scoldings from Professors, overlooked." For a fraction of a second he regretted berating the two students on finding them lingering in corridors.

"It's really a reflex reaction in the end. Recalling that feeling of happiness, that rush of confidence, the tug of a smile on your face and the lightness of step. To look in the face of something truly vile, and be able to say 'it was good once, and it will be again' with conviction." He gave a slight shrug and adjusted one of his shirt sleeves.
"My suggestion would be to try and cast it in the presence of someone who makes you happy. It'll come." He nodded to her as he said it, subconsciously backing up his verbal claim. Dimbleby was capable of anything she put her mind to. All his students were, even the most awful.

Try a different tactic? 

Jordyn pursed her lips and let out a deep breath, considering what he was saying.  Many memories as opposed to a singular one that had a feeling in it – less perfect.  Since Jordyn was fairly certain there was no perfect anywhere in the world, that made sense.  She nodded along with the thought and then her ears perked at the word illicit before the sentence was even over her mouth had dropped open. 

She tried to form words – but they wouldn’t come and she could feel her face get hot and that was so entirely embarrassing.  The Professor was smirking, obviously he meant to fluster her, but it was so weird and unexpected.  Jordyn’s heart thrummed in her chest as she tried to manage her anxiety down to an acceptable level.  When she could get a sufficient amount of air into her lungs, she shrugged and cleared her throat.  “Well,” a high pitched squeak, “I… um… I expect I could try something of the sort,” she said without much commitment and in a voice that sounded nothing like the typical assured cadence that she normally spoke in. 

There was another suggestion, to try with someone else who made her happy.  That meant a lot of trust.  Jordyn was in short supply of that.  So, that was where she was.  She had many suggestions, she had a lot to work on – but it was all going to come together.  “Do you know when you’ll have those routines ready for me?” she asked, “I’d like to start revising fluidity as soon as possible.” 

His suggestion had stepped on a topic that Dimbleby wasn't too keen on discussing with the Professor, and he tried to ignore her blushes and the strange voice she used to reply with. Hormonal interchanges between teenagers were something that got in the way of learning, and he didn't take any keen interest in them, unless it was to use them to aggravate.

"I'll have them drafted by the morning," he replied to her question, "though it may help to spot check a few of your repertoire, provide some challenge in the lists." He raised his wand, pausing to consider a moment.

"Expelliarmus, concusso, devinctus, and finish with vapos nebulae. Straight out disarm attempt, rock the balance, force them to their knees, bind and make a safe escape. That's considering they don't throw anything at you between - so throw in Protego, and Declino for a direct reflection between the for something different." He set off across the room to put distance between them, and turned to walk a few paces backwards as he continued: "No duel's ever going to be as prescriptive, but the movements between the spells should at least have you focusing on the transitions as well as the results. Not to mention the useful pairs we've discussed in lessons to disarm an opponent without using force - in a similar way. Ready?" He raised his wand and changed his footing, eyes keenly focused on how she presented the string of spells. 

She could count on Professor Storm to be completely okay with skipping over uncomfortable topics of conversation. It was almost entirely irrelevant to the topic at hand and there were so many other things they could deal with to help her be a more proficient spell caster.  It might not have had much to do with what she was going to be doing in her future, but these were the sorts of spells she’d probably be dealing with when she was healing someone, so she had to know. 

Stanidng a little straighter, she nodded.  “I’ll pick them up from your office in the morning then?” she half-asked, half-declared, considering he could chime in with a much more reasonable time for himself, or a more central location.  It would be up to him, really. 

Except he wanted to check some things first.  Jordyn felt like this was the practical exam already.  Her hands started sweating and she was happy for the cover over her palms so she wouldn’t slip and drop her wand.  She let out a deep breath and nodded, repeating the spells after he said them under her breath. 

She could do this, she reminded herself.  It wasn’t that hard: they were spells she was familiar with and they had practiced over and over again in class.  Taking a deep breath through her nose, Jordyn raised her wand and set her mouth in a straight line.  She was going to do this – even if it meant squaring up with the professor (she got into the posture they had worked on earlier).  She wondered, with a slight apprehension if he was really going to use his wand against her – if he wanted to simulate a duel, as it would actually happen, since he suggested that no duel was ever really scripted.  “Yes sir,” she took another deep breath and steadied her hand. 

She was not confident enough to engage in non-verbal magic in defense, so she announced her first spell as she flicked her wand, taking a step to try and twist her wrist the right way to cast a concusso toward her target.  The movement was awkward and Jordyn felt something off about the way she cast that spell, but she didn’t notice at first because she tried to cast the hex that was supposed to be under control, but instead of a jagged stream of white light, it was like a fan that spread out from her wand and struck over a desk and chairs, a candelabra also took a hit and crashed to the ground.  She knew she hadn’t flicked her wrist right and her hands flew to her mouth, “Oh no!”