Kelvin shouldn't have sat at the front of the class, he decided once he realized that there was little to distract him from the distraction in front of him.  So instead, he stared at the syllabus.  He'd done well enough in charms, when he didn't manage to blow something up.  Though thankfully, that mostly happened in potions.  But it did have a tendency to happen when he was trying new spells with less than his full concentration.  It was going to be a rough year, or however long the man lasted.

Unlike Winifred, and he suspected a good number the rest of his classmates, he hadn't been worried about the amount of writing it had appeared they would be doing.    He didn't usually have problems with the written work.  Though in the end, he was thankful he wasn't going to have to figure out how to get that much written while also dealing with his new duties as a prefect.

Twenty points, that was insane.  What had she even said?  He really hoped they'd be able to make up those points before the end of class.  Twenty points.  Well at least the man wasn't confiscating wands, but still.  Harsh.  He looked back at the syllabus, so that he wouldn't be staring at the professor, who knew what would set the professor off.

He raised his hand, waiting for permission before asking his question.  "Will the supplemental reading correspond with lessons?  I read Innovative Blunders over the summer but didn't have space to bring it."

Lulah didn't get the girls turning into full-ninny mode at the sight of Donovan. Nah, not Donovan. Donovan was for Shona. And Shona was awesome. This guy must've been adopted. Or dropped on his head at birth? Or a changeling? Were those a thing? Humm... Grumpypants? Sourpuss? McEyebrows? Trollovan? Trollovan. Professor Trollovan was handing out papers and people were asking questions, but Lulah was entirely too distracted by the fuzzyy caterpillars placed right above his eyes, doing their strange worm-dancing-thing to actually pay attention to whatever the bloody hell was going on with the tutoring and the points and the syllabuses - syllabi?- and all that school stuff. Ugh. School.

Such distraction needed to be focused into something, anything, or else she'd spend this year in detention. Again. Turning the sheets of the syllab-a-thingie she'd been handed, Lulah read the first few lines and abandoned the feat completely upon meeting the word 'linguistic'. Heh. Without meaning to or realizing it she was soon doodling between the rows: tiny brooms, a quaffle, a rather menacing looking bludger but it soon escalated to a face; a rather ugly mug, with two of the lower front teeth exposed over the lip, some stubble, menacing eyes, and extremely fuzzy eyebrows. Lulah snorted loudly and inelegantly. On second thought she quickly scribbled "I feed on the blood of children" under it and laid her head on the desk with a thump, sighing heavily.

This was going to be a long, boring and painful class. School sucked. At least it was better than home with the hysterical blonde hag, she supposed. Lulah kept her head on the table and rolled it from side to side, squishing her nose several times before she sighed again throwing a quick look at Trollovan's eyebrows. She snorted again.

Looks of dismay rippled across the room, but aside from a few murmurs, not one of them was an actual protest. Good. With grim satisfaction, Rick rolled the syllabus between callused palms, slowly, methodically packing it in until it grew smaller and smaller.

It was regrettable, starting off like this, but after three weeks at sea with most of them, it was clear he’d have to deal with a few… issues… none of the other staff members wouldn’t have. The students had to be taught what would or wouldn’t be tolerated—something he suspected  would be its own course in and of itself. As such, he already had his work cut out for him.

Case in point: his appeal. Experience had taught him it was inevitable (an eye twitched at this) that students would find him attractive, but now, more than ever, he was not about to touch that with a ten-foot pole—and anyone who tried would only find themselves neck-deep in trouble. Essays would be the least of their problems.


“Are you going to dock points if our spells go... awry?”


Rick shifted his gaze onto Winnie again. The girl’s expression lacked any sort of guile he could see, but the alternative… Eyes narrowed, the look in them measuring—before he broke out into a quick, sharp smile. “That depends,” he finally replied, arms folding over his chest, “entirely on you.”

He didn’t think much of the point system, if he were honest, but if it worked then it worked; instead, he was more stuck on the fact that Winnie’s suggestion was even a possibility. Where was the point in that? The smile dropped. “If someone gets hurt because one of you cut corners–” That gaze swept around the room, dispassionate and cold. “then yes, I will.

“But other than that… no. Not for accidents.” Rick relaxed then—a slight shift of movement that would’ve been unnoticeable, had he not looked almost friendly in comparison. “Screwing up now and then—or often, whatever—that’s just just part of the process.” They would, however, have to learn to undo their mistakes, but that would be a lesson learned another time.


“Will the supplemental reading correspond with lessons?  I read Innovative Blunders over the summer but didn't have space to bring it.”


At Kelvin he smirked a mean little smirk . “They will, so have someone owl it to you,” he suggested, looking amused. “Or share their copy, because you’ll need it.”

The syllabus said ‘supplemental’—and technically, it was true; they were supplemental. Hypothetically, a student could pass without never cracking open a single one. But it would be difficult, because Rick was nothing if not cynical about the teenage condition; important exams were coming up and there was no time to waste waiting for them to get used to him. The best he could do now was distract them with coursework, give them no choice but to focus on studying. instead of him

“Anything else? No?” With Kelvin’s question, that seemed to cover everything – at least, no one else raised their hand – and so Rick stood, ready to move on. “Alright,” he began as he walked down the platform, pausing at the last step. “Your first lesson: the Silencing Charm.

“There are a number of ways to achieve some peace and quiet, but the Silencing Charm is by far the most useful. You can gag the source, if it’s got a mouth—stun it, confound it… Turn it into something quiet, like a plant. But of ‘em all, Silencing it outright is the most effective. For one, the target doesn’t have to be human.”

A trolley wheeled to the front, just short of blocking him from view. Its unwieldy burden – though clothed – nevertheless appeared bulky, like a squat little mountain. Rick yanked the sheet away, revealing a neatly piled stack of cages—each one containing a ferret. Or, a ferret looking thing; though their mouths moved, nothing came out. Only their sneers gave any hint to what they were saying.

“Jarveys, right from Slandermouth.” As recognition dawned, Rick drew his wand, pointing it at the nearest cage.

And suppressed the urge to sigh before removing its gag, because jarveys.

Finite.

“–pid cur!” The jarvey startled, the abrupt return of its voice taking it by surprise. But it recovered quickly enough, resuming with joyful triumph: “Lousy, festering fleabag! Who let ya–”

Calmly, Rick pointed. “Silencio.”

The jarvey blinked, and tried again. When that failed, it fell into a sulk, curling up moodily. Rick ignored it. “For today’s spell,” he continued, resting a hand atop its cage, “you’ll take one back to your desk for practice. And practice only.”

He shot them all a stern look—not quite daring (he knew for a fact there were some who were that stupid), but hardly trusting, either. “Jarveys have an instinct for insecurities, but they only mimic what they hear. You injure yours, you fail.” He smiled. “And I sell you out to Professor Donovan. Is that understood?”

A murmur of assent. Rick narrowed his eyes. But he relented, taking his hand off the cage—and the Silencing Charm off the rest. Instantly the room filled with catcalling and jeers. “You may begin,” he said, raising his voice, and watched suspiciously as everyone took a jarvey until none were left.

---

Feel free to mess around with your jarveys, or assist a classmate! The first three to successfully complete the assignment may earn up to +10.

Truthfully, perhaps, they might have had hard pointy snouts, scrubby whiskers, and a vennomous look to their general disposition (although Gloria remembered they were poisonous) but there was something downright cute to the overall appearance of a jarvey. Maybe because they were large weasels and just imagine how fluffy they would be if you gave them a bath.

So that was why Gloria was softly cooing over hers as she brought it back to her desk even though it swore off a rancor the likes of 'tosspot,' 'nob-end' and further derivatives. Nothing compared to the swear storm of one of Gloria's uncles, though.

Before she began the spell practice Gloria couldn't resist the urge to scratch the jarvey under the chin. Which earned a threat of snapping off fingers as she dodged her hand out of the way from a bite at her fingers. Alright, maybe she should be getting to the spellwork.

Keeping the jarvey entertained by gnawing on some of her spare parchment, Gloria prepared to cast the spell. "Silencio!"

"COR CHUGGA YAK YER BLOODY WAN--"  and Gloria quickly held the jarvey's mouth shut after, quite paradoxically, the spell had let the jarvey cuss louder.

Finally they were on to the practical, and Ambrose leaned forward at his desk when the Jarveys appeared in their cages. They'd studied them a bit in Care of Magical Creatures, though nobody enjoyed spending time listening to them.

The Professor, naturally, unsilenced and silenced a Jarvey with incredible ease. Once the silencing charm was removed on the whole lot of them, the air filled with a cacophony of insults and words.

As instructed, the class made their way to the front and picked up a cage to take back to their desk. Ambrose ended up with a portly looking Jarvey with markings that only added to the scowl as it strung obscenities at him.

"This isn't going to be a quiet class, is it?" He asked Juni beside him, eyeing up the jarvey before him, cracking open his text book to double check the wand movement and the spelling.

"Silencio, silencio, silencio." He repeated aloud, trying to commit to memory. It was simple enough, but Ambrose knew his ability to mis-incant was far greater. He would have to attempt it non-verbally to have any hope of not blowing the javery's head off accidentally.

Mouth firmly shut, Ambrose stood up for better movement of his arm in case he bumped into Juni and began to try.

The jarvey resolutely continued to throw abuse in his direction, which admittedly wasn't much encouragement. All around him other classmates were speaking aloud the charm as they would normally - though the usual high flyers were mixing it up. Ambrose very much doubted he'd achieve the spell by the end of the lesson, but he was determined there would be no accidents, hence keeping his mouth shut.

Silencio

The jarvey was busy complimenting him on his tomato shade face, as a blush had been creeping up Ambrose's neck with the effort and in trying to ignore it.

Nearby, Gloria's jarvey seemed to have increased in volume, which resulted in a ripple of laughter amongst them all.

One of the first to rise from her seat, Esther approached the trolley with a lifted chin, head held high, footsteps airy but shoulders squared.

If last year had been a trial, it was clear that this year would be no cakewalk, either. Esther was already quite familiar with the man. After Juni’s swift, subsequent return from the trip, the Ravenclaw had found a job at Donovan’s, and kept it even after the eponymous man seemed to have come home to a less than pleasant surprise. There, along with Bastian, Connor and the others, she had played witness to more than a few… unsound business practices.

The man was terse, borderline rude at best and bodily hostile at worst. Verbal abuse had been a common occurrence at Donovan’s. Customers were greeted with unsmiling onceovers, and booted off the premises once they outstayed their welcome. He did these little… things, like point out smudges on the glass cases that hadn’t (couldn’t) been there before, tipped merchandise over to be righted later. He was horrid to everyone—even Alex, who was obviously his favorite.

Granted, it hadn’t been as though any of the staff couldn’t return the favor, because they could: Alex gave back as good as she got (and often, better); Juni let up because he was the boss, but seemed to get her own back in other ways. Even Kinsey spoke back, if incomprehensibly. The shop’s very atmosphere had simply been ghastly informal.

And now he was their teacher, and it seemed there would be both great and little difference from how Donovan’s had been run. The man at least seemed bent on running things fairly, but if his responses to Winnie, Ambrose and Kelvin were anything to go by, it would be with a similar manner—in a more severe, condensed form. It was almost enough to distract one from his looks–

Which in hindsight, was probably the very point—and perhaps Juni’s comment was proof enough of that. But Esther was used to doing Outstandingly well in Charms, and she was not about to forgive anyone who would mark her lower than she deserved simply because he thought she had been looking at him funny. Being fair in some ways did not cancel out being unfair in others; if anything that left one at zero—total indifference.

And so Esther glided to the front, all graceful perfection, and plucked a cage off the trolley, returning that dreadful scowl with a saccharine smile as she did. It was rare that a teacher would find her unlikable, especially for something so stupidgeneral as her age, but Esther knew exactly how to handle those, and that was by being flawless, forcing them to give her the best grades. A jarvey – even a Slandermouth one – stood little chance.

Her grip on her wand’s handle tightened. Especially a jarvey. The despicable thing had started on her as soon as she had neared, but now that they were back at her desk it began anew, cheerful and jaunty. “Flatchested brat!” it shouted joyfully. “Yer socks’re comin’ loose!”

She flushed. That was so– She did not– “Silencio!”

But it was to no avail; the jarvey continued, undeterred. “Oo’s a numpty witch!” it beamed, rising on its hind legs. “Stodgy fusspot! Cold fish! Ain’t evah bin–”

Esther blanched, then turned red, deeper than before. “Silencio!”

At last, silence. Her shoulders – and features – slackened in relief.

"This isn't going to be a silent class, is it?" Ambrose inquired. Juni shook her head in a way that was meant to be somber, but she could barely hold back her excited grin. This was beautiful. Esther's jarvey was calling her a flatchested brat. Juni had only been to Slandermouth once. She wondered how the residents managed to hold on to any semblance of self-esteem after being barraged with insults while going about their daily lives.

"Your jarvey is obese." Juni replied to Ambrose casually. She looked at her speckled Jarvey with distaste. "Mine looks  like me. Look at it. It even has a giant spot on his chin."

"Yours make you look like sewer-dwelling trash!" Her jarvey exclaimed, baring his teeth at her. Juni stared at her jarvey, clearly unimpressed.

"You're a vermin-munching table-licker, sooooo." She shrugged, nudging it with her wand tauntingly.

Foam began to appear at the corner of his mouth, "YOU LOOK LIKE A MANGLED DALMATION!"

Juni's face flushed,  "Your head is anatomically incorrect!"

"Desperate pizza face!"

"You putrid little nose-fu--" Juni stopped herself, pulled out her wand and made a sharp jabbing motion towards the jarvey, "Silencio." The creature's mouth moved, but it said nothing. Its little weasel rump began to shake, and it lowered itself before jumping in the air, limbs outstretched towards Juni-- landing on her head.

Juni let out a blood curdling scream and grabbed the creature by the ruff of its neck and pulled it from her scalp, bits of her curly hair caught in the jarvey's mouth. With a half-giant's strength, she slammed it to the ground, "Petrificus Totalus!" The Ravenclaw shrieked-- and the jarvey froze before it could charge again.

"It tried to eat my face!" She said indignantly, smoothing the front of her skirt before turning to face Ambrose with an eerie calm, flushed cheeks making her freckles stand out. His jarvey was still jabbering on with insults. The Gryffindor was had been quiet beside her-- was he trying to do this nonverbally? For someone who was shoddy at wandwork, that would have been difficult. Then again, there was Amherst, who did nonverbal spells all the time. Maybe it was easier for Ambrose. Either way, with all this noise (and her shrieking), it was bound to be difficult to focus. Juni felt just a little bit guilty for her disruption.

Juni picked up her bag and rummaged through it before pulling out a pair of polka-dotted earmuffs. Without asking if he would even want to wear them, she attempted to push them down over Ambrose's ears. "Try these!" She offered loudly, though not brusquely.

A couple chairs away, Connor glanced over Juni and Ambrose, eyes lighting up with something akin to relief as his friend pulled out a pair of earmuffs. Why she carried them he didn’t know, but at present it was effin’ genius, a brilliant idea.

The jarveys had been funny as hell in the beginning, what with the many and varied expressions of outrage and embarrassment they provoked. But less than a minute ago Connor’s had insulted his hair (which was perfect, okay, thanks) and then his clothes, which were maybe secondhand today. And had been a bit of a sore spot for far longer.  He preferred ‘vintage’, okay?

Shame he hadn’t thought to bring his earmuffs, though.

“Estherrrrrrrr,” he whined, leaning heavily on the girl until she was sandwiched between him and Bastian. “Esther, help meeeeee.”

She squirmed, tried to elbow him away in vain, annoyance pinching her face. When that didn’t work, she shoved him off of her—hard. “I’m not doing your work for you!” she spat as his jarvey sniggered.

Connor shot it a dirty look before hauling himself up, wincing. “ ‘M not—askin’ you to,” he grunted, far more patiently than he was pretty sure the situation called for. “Ow.”

Esther rolled her eyes. But her shoulders relaxed, the rest of her looking just this side of contrite. “What do you want, then?” she sighed, flipping her hair. “I’m already helping Bastian.”

“Earmuffs,” he said promptly. He jabbed a thumb over his shoulder, at Juni.

She craned her head to look and made a face. That probably had more to do with polka dots being more Juni’s thing than hers, though.

“Fine,” she sighed again, and conjured a pair, this one baby blue.

Connor plucked it out of her hands. “Thankee, yer the best,” he sang, shoving the earmuffs down onto his ears. He faced the jarvey with a look of certain triumph. “As fer you–”

The jarvey was gone. Bored with waiting for daft human to get his shit together, it had scampered away, setting off to... incite a riot among the other jarveys. Connor and Esther watched it go, egging another jarvey on with a rousing cry of “UP YOURS, ARSELICKER!”

Connor and Esther glanced at each other, then at Rick for his reaction—only to see him pinch the bridge of his nose and sigh. Deeply.

“Todd,” he ground out in low, growly tones. It was like listening to gravel rattle in a blender.

Connor gave him a jerky salute. “On it!” he chirped, and proceeded to scramble out of his seat, bumping into desks, barely dodging chairs... sending other jarveys scattering as he struggled to keep it within his sights.

People screamed. He lost track of the creature within seconds.

Whoops.

What Rick dearly wanted to know was why any of them opened their cages.

Pandemonium reigned. In the two minutes it took for everyone to get settled and started on their jarvey, the classroom descended into chaos. Connor’s – ever the renegade – ran amok, freeing the other jarveys with a dexterity that was alarming. What it didn’t free, were eventually – inevitably – freed by Connor’s own blundering passage. In an effort to avoid the ones streaking across the floor, students stood on their chairs and desks; others batted them away with bookbags and poorly cast spells and shields. Morrell, having the presence of mind to hold onto her cage before it could topple over, grabbed it by its sides—only to gasp in pain when her jarvey snapped at her hand.

Rick would have been impressed by how quickly it escalated, if it weren’t for the ringing in his ears caused by the shouts and screaming.

“Immobulus!”

Jarveys froze. Stonily – wordlessly – Rick directed them back into their cages. One by one they slammed shut with a tiny screech.

“We’re going to try that again,” he said, voice deceptively soft. “And we’re going to keep our jarveys inside their cages. Do I make myself clear?”

The room was a sea of tentative nods. He let out a sigh. “Good. Connor, Juni—twenty points from Ravenclaw. For each of you.” To Esther, “Morrell. Up front. Everyone else: keep. Working.”


And that was that.