10:08 AM, Friday




That second Friday of March, Rick looked slightly better than usual. There were still shadows under his eyes and a peakiness to already sharp features that hadn’t been there a month ago, but his shirt was crisp and clean, his tie clip was in place, and the serial killer beard was gone. More importantly, he looked like he had actually gotten enough sleep. Rick wasn’t quite back to normal, but it was a step in the right direction.

Another was the copy of More Than Words: A Guide to Intricate Enchantments and Spellbindings on his desk, open at Chapter One, bookmarked at page fourteen. Both text and diagrams gleamed with the shiny ink of modern print, but the handful of symbols on the bare pages were old. Beside it was a stoppered inkwell, a folded knife, and a pair of black leather gloves – all set atop a stack of parchment.

With something closer to tiredness than actual patience, Rick waited for everyone to settle before rounding to the front of his desk, coffee in hand.

“For today, all you need are Monday’s assignment, paper, something to write with and your copy of More Than Words. Everything else you can put away.” Giving them another moment, he took a sip.

“As you all know, enchantments are the one thing that keeps the wizarding world working as we know it. Not only do they keep us safe, they keep us comfortable as well. Of every study of magic, they aren’t just practical, they’re essential. For us, they are the primary form of magic takes.

“Yet as I speak, there are many who harbor the misconception that they are just a matter of swish and flick. Point and cast. That at best, they exist simply for convenience. And to a certain extent, those people are right—they do exist for our convenience. But if you think that’s really all there is to it…”

Soft and casual, Rick’s drawl held only the finest trace of derision. “Then you aren’t just wrong, you’re an idiot.”

He let his gaze sweep over the room. “If you did the reading and the assignment, then you know that charms come in different forms and methods. What are some other ways they are cast?”

Rick looked like he was having a rough time lately; or well, a rougher time than usual. Most people would chalk it up to February being a hellish month--which it was. Hanging out with some of his peers wasn't the same since. Zel was constantly, constantly worried about Micah and JH, but he never knew how to approach it except by offering a silent ear. Sometimes there was nothing to say, and sometimes it was best not to say anything no matter how badly you wanted to.

Zel was so ready for this year to be over.

He took a brief look at his notes and then raised his hand.

"Merpeople, when they sing and it's enchanting? And when veelas do it too?" Zel wasn't sure if he was 100% right, but he hoped.

By this point in the year, Ariadne had got past her inopportune moments of staring at Professor Donovan’s appearance, and puzzling over how people tried to get his attention. She still found him a bit disconcerting when he stared at her. He had a very penetrating stare, and unlike the stare of their Deputy Headmaster that just made Ariadne want to curl in a ball under her desk, Professor Donovan had the ability to induce a maddening blush just before she tried to slither under her desk. Recent events of a whole batch of missing classmates had made Ariadne feel considerably less confident amongst her peers, and as such she was avoiding Professor Donovan’s gaze to begin with, assembling materials.

“If you did the reading and the assignment, then you know that charms come in different forms and methods. What are some other ways they are cast?” Professor Donovan asked after dissecting the misconceptions of enchantments. So soon to their exams, Ariadne hoped that nobody believed that all magic was cast with their wand.

"Merpeople, when they sing and it's enchanting? And when veelas do it too?” Zel offered, raising his hand to Ariadne’s left and she swallowed, glancing between her Hufflepuff classmate and their teacher to gauge reaction before she tentatively raised her own hand.
“Runes, Sir, with wards, one can use them, symbols, really, when suitably incanted can be used in many forms. Erm, such as to mark a boundary of a dwelling.”

Rick had dealt with the beard, and while he still had a long way to go, he no longer looked awful.

Just mildly terrible.

Alex wanted to say something, but congratulations on shaving wasn’t an appropriate sentiment, given what had happened. Everything else she had to say could be said when her nosy, gossiping classmates weren’t around.

Rick’s introduction hardly filled her with excitement; classes without wands rarely reached the lofty heights of magical disaster that her classmates managed when thus equipped. Still, she had hope that someone would say something ludicrous and Rick would… chastise them.

Regrettably, both Trumble and Gamp provided sensible answers.

“Tattoos are amongst the more widely used,” Alex offered, “most commonly for birth control, however they can be used to provide protection, alter appearance, and enhance strength, in addition to other, more… esoteric purposes.” Several of which were illegal.

Elysia actually enjoyed her classes normally, even the extremely difficult ones. In NEWT years, you can be sure that the people studying with you are both competent in the subject, and eager to continue their education. It wasn’t like before OWLs, when you were stuck with a class no matter how much you might detest it. The fact that Professor Donovan was normally such a looker didn’t hurt Elysia’s impression on the subject. This class, however, wasn’t one the Hufflepuff was excited for. The wounds were too fresh – too many of her classmates scarred for life. Why hadn’t they cancelled classes?

Pulling herself from her gloom, Elysia looked up toward the board and their Professor. Unlike some of her fellow classmates, Elysia didn’t even sigh when she realized wands wouldn’t be needed for the lesson. A nice lecture sounded much better to her than casting difficult and exhausting charms all lesson. She listened as her fellow students spoke, looking each of them over carefully as they spoke. The evidence of the recent tragedy was written on many of their faces and it made Elysia’s heart hurt. There had been too much sadness recently, something good needed to happen soon.

Elysia offered Alex a small smile when she finished speaking, she wouldn’t have ever thought of tattoos. Then, clearly without thinking, Elysia’s warbling voice spoke quietly out, “Blood magic,”

Since the start of 2010 Zia’s attendance had been inconsistent at best. Until this year Zia had been too afraid to miss class, in fear that some type of alarm would go off. Aurors would reprimand her for truancy, send word of her crimes to her family, and then she’d receive not just one howler but close to a dozen.

She soon realized that none of those things would happen if she skipped class. Losing points, getting detention, what did it matter? Worse things could happen and the bad people could get away with no repercussions. Thinking about this made it hard to find significance in learning a few more silly spells. Zia hadn’t been able to use any of those spells to save herself or anyone else.

Somehow her family members all found their own technique for smuggling alcohol to Zia. Wine was a suitable alternative for water with the Pisellis. This was perhaps not the healthiest dietary choice but with things as they were, Zia accepted whatever she could get to numb herself. And there was plenty left over in the winery.

And so last night she had imbibed.  So this morning she had woken up late, queasy and with a headache. Without stopping to look too hard she snagged her Ravenclaw cloak off of the hook she kept it on and sped towards class wearing the outfit she’d worn the night before. People were talking already and so she slipped as quickly and quietly as she could into the back row, hoping dearly that the Professor would dim the lights. Why was it so bright in here?

“Dancing’s another,” Gracie chimed in, lowering the pen she had been chewing on, tapping it restlessly against her desk. “Especially in South America, islands in the Pacific, and Africa. Sometimes it’s to control the weather. Elemental stuff. Other times it’s been used to raise wards—the more dancers involved, the better. But on a more, um, individual basis–”

She let out a gusty sigh, forcing herself to relax. She had as good as reason as anyone who had ever woken up in a creepy cell on their birthday the way she had to be on edge, but this was Charms. Donovan might be the strictest professor to ever take the post, but he was neither Mortimer Gamp or Lyra Gamp, nor the bloody puddles they, their victims, had found themselves in. “Castelobruxo and Ledesma–” she named two magical schools located in South America, “take part in a yearly competition, where they pit their teams and pairs against those of other schools. Officially formal competitions are like any dance competition, but unofficial ones are like duels, where they manipulate what they conjure or what’s lying around like we would normal spells.”

Virgil leaned back in his chair, balancing on the rear legs as he looked down at his nails wondering if he should file them. Probably. Gracie was giving her answer with perfect thoroughness next to him and he glanced up to briefly consider her countenance - it held nothing troubling - before turning his attention back to the front of the classroom.

Professor Donovan had reclaimed his usual looks and appeared less likely to mistakenly murder a student rather than teach them a lesson. Merlin knew why but if he was still calling them idiots than he could hardly be any worse off than Virgil's stolen peers.

"Is there not singing magic independent of Merpeople and the Veela?" he queried, looking between Trumble who was set up ahead with Almasy, and their Professor. The more musical of languages - Arabic, Urdu - must be inclined. "A miserable art for the tone-deaf..."

The Slytherin shook his head effeminately, lamenting. "Best you don't try to demonstrate that, Professor."

Nicholas was disappointed that Donovan was back to his normal appearance.  He looked great.  Better than any professor had a right to look.  But, after the initial distraction of his disheveled haggard appearance, it had been less distracting than normal.  Of course if even half of what he'd heard was true, he didn't blame the guy and it was probably for the best that he was getting back to normal.  Merlin knew that's what he'd tried to do after the lovely valentines he'd had.

But damn if class hadn't been just a little bit easier with more room in his trousers.

"Technically potions are an enchantment created with the properties of the ingredients and still with a bit of swishing and flicking."  He hadn't really done the reading. 

Bits of it here and there that had been interesting and he'd read those but he'd mostly attempted a few of the enchantments he'd found mentioned in the reading.  Not that that did him any good since they weren't going to use wands.

Jordyn liked charms.  It had always been one of her best subjects, though Professor Donovan did not seem to like her as much as other professors had in the past and it made Jordyn worry about her performance.  She couldn’t get poor marks in this class.  It would destroy everything she had worked so hard for over these years. 

It made her anxious and her seat had creeped up to the front row so she could pay attention to the best of her ability and she religiously did her homework, even if it meant she had little time for anything except school and her rounds/duties as Head Girl.  She just had to remind herself it was almost over.

She couldn’t believe it.  Seven long years and they were almost graduated.  It made her heart skip a beat whenever she thought of it.  Unfortunately, there was another thing she couldn’t believe and it was what she was going to say next.

“To build off of Bevans,” it was truly a wonder, “there are plenty of healing salves that can be created without wands.  And some foods as well.”   

To Rick’s relief, the seventh years didn’t disappoint. Answers were offered, and for the most part correct, and came with examples without prompting.

Zel, Ariadne and Gracie got a nod of approval, though no other sign that one of them might have hit the aim of today’s lesson on the head; Alex, on the other hand, almost garnered a smile – not so much in approval as it was from acknowledgment. He had expected no less from her.

Still, it was Virgil who garnered the most expressive reaction: narrowed eyes. Rick wasn’t easily goaded even by family (and God knew they could be annoying), but – there it was anyway.

“Yes,” he said, in response to Virgil’s question, and “Don’t tempt me” before moving on.


     “Technically potions are an enchantment created with the properties of the ingredients and still with a bit of swishing and flicking.”


With only the faintest shift in expression, his stare went from ‘deadpan’ to ‘unimpressed’—though he waited until Jordyn finished before answering. “Which is why I asked for other means of spellcasting,” he said bluntly, setting the mug on the desk. “Not performing magic. All spells are displays of magic, but not all displays are spells. Look at a dragon–”

In a burst of activity, several bits of chalk flew across the board, until an outline of the creature flexed its wings. “According to the laws of physics, it shouldn’t be able to fly. Not with our gravity. And yet…” The dragon took off, launching itself into a series of figure-eights. “It can. That’s magic. But is it a spell? No.

“The difference between what I’m asking for and brewing–” Because he never claimed to be a saint, a note of sarcasm escaped, “is that one of them is independent of external factors—anything aside from a part of your own body. Since a normal, verbal spell involves the use of your voice – the use of sound – musical instruments also fall under this category, as they serve as an extension of yourself. Since the very essence of a potion stems from a mixture of ingredients and their reactions to each other, on a molecular level, in the presence of magic… brewing does not.”

Rick respected the craft as well as the witch in charge of teaching it, but he wasn’t interested in technicalities, so the stare was transferred onto Jordyn—and then abruptly cut off; ducking his head, squeezing his eyes shut as he pinched and held the bit between his eyes, the werewolf took a moment to choose his words carefully because he knew a genuine effort when he saw one. It was the only reason why he bit back the automatic yeah, muggles do it all the time that was really, really tempting.

In the end, however, it came down to methods, I asked for methods and a flat ‘no’ that defied eloquence or explanation, and so Rick gave up altogether. Instead, he sighed, let his hand fall away from away from his face and looked up, scanning the room. “There’s at least one more answer I can think of off the top of my head,” he told them, folding his arms. “Anyone?”

So, apparently, when Captain Donovan wasn't steering a ship through the tropics he was a proper teacher - or as proper a teacher as Hogwarts ever employed. Raine had been back at school for long enough now to become accustomed to their new Charms professor but she found it equal parts suspicious and funny that such a face would recur in the castle of all places.

The Gryffindor tickled the end of her quill to her chin, feeling idle whilst she leaned against Zel's arm and listened to the different responses. Her gaze occasionally fell on the professor's desk.

Folded knife, leather gloves. 

Where was Connor Todd and his lurid commentary when you needed it?

“...one more answer I can think of off the top of my head," Donovan continued. "Anyone?”

Raine sat straight, frowning. "Mind magic?" she suggested and lowered her quill. "Leglimency has a cause and an effect, like any Charm - even if you can't see it on the surface right away."

Her aunt had many, many books on the subject - although she could never tell if that implied practical ability.

Indica did not know what her classmates were getting on about.  They were being so complicated.  She didn’t even (really) need to read the chapter to know something they were all clearly missing. 

“Touch!” she shouted out on the heels of Raine’s response.  It was probably one of the first times she had participated in class productively this year, but with curled and grabby hands, even that was going downhill fast.  Her poor desk partner, Micah[1], was caught on the other end of her attempts to touch the person nearest to her. 

Turning her wide, brown eyes back to Professor Donovan, she kept the claws up as she continued, “Massage has a practical, magical application.” 

1.	Permission granted by Sly

Virgil narrowed his eyes at Almasy's back as she answered, personally of the opinion that only the most general definitions of magic extended to Leglimency as such - but he had read conflicting opinions on the subject and did not think it mattered too greatly. In too deep to ask what sort of waters one would be drowning in.

He looked over his shoulder, jumping slightly at Indi's exclamation.

"It has a practical, less magical application too..." Virgil batted his eyelids listlessly at his friend and then glanced back towards the front, flicking a stray lock of his hair. "I don't think anyone would object to a demonstration of Kemp's answer, sir. In fact I'm certain that Bevans would volunteer."

With Raine’s contribution, Rick relaxed, all set to launch into another lecture. Then Indi piped up, and everything went to hell in a handbasket.

Micah jumped in his seat, a strangled sound escaping, and nearly fell trying to avoid her hands. The class burst into laughter; Rick felt his eye twitch. “Kemp-” he started.

And then, with creaky slowness, turned to Virgil with a look that said, emphatically, with every fiber of its being, so loudly and profoundly it transcended to an entirely new level of existence,


He looked back at Raine. “It does,” he agreed. “It’s when a certain level of mastery is achieved, though, that it qualifies as an alternative method. In the case of legilimency, it’s through eye contact. If you’re good enough, then all you need is a glance.”

Sometimes, you didn’t even need that. But Rick wasn’t about to disclose that just yet. Instead, he looked around the room and decided it was probably time to get them started with the actual lesson for the day.

“Today, however, we’re going to be practicing one of the other methods brought up by your classmates.” As deft hands undoing the buttons of his cuffs, those same eyes sought out Ariadne before continuing, “Runes.” He began rolling up his sleeves. “Look inside your desks; inside, you should find ink, a brush, a knife, a pair of gloves and a wooden block for each of you. Take them out.”

He looked behind him and picked up his own pair. The ones he wore to when creating Artifacts and laying enchantments, they were thinner and made of a soft, supple black, finer than the ones required by Herbology or Care of Magical Creatures. As such, they molded themselves to his hands once he tugged them on.

Then, pushing off from the edge of his desk, Rick made his way to the board. A stick of chalk jumped into his hand; at this, the dragon slinked off to a corner, where it curled up and promptly fell asleep. “You get a choice,” he said, briskly drawing four runes in the space it had vacated, “in deciding which one you will practice first, because for the next half hour you’ll be learning how to draw it perfectly, before carving it into your block of wood and testing it out—by the end of class.”

He faced the class. Behind him, below each rune, was a name (Light/Glow, Levitate, Repel and Alarm) and a brief list of some possible signs of failure. Explosion, apparently, was a common one. “And by perfectly I mean perfectly. Because for the next two weeks we’re doing this for each and every one of them, before layering them together.”

Lips peeled back into a sharp, dazzling smile. “If you mess that up, you’ll be lucky if nothing happens.”

The smile faded. “Now, get into groups of three or four. You can help each other out, but you’ll still be responsible for your own work. If you did the assignment, this shouldn’t take long. If you have any questions—ask. Otherwise, you may begin.”