Monday, September 1 4:00 p.m. For information about how classes work, please refer to A Guide to Taking Ancient Runes. I have combined fifth and seventh years until/if we get more students signing up. This is why I’m using the ‘study break’ period instead of the scheduled class times.

5th Years Amherst, Ferguson (E) Branwell, Kit Dimbleby, Jordyn Pratt, Madeline Q-Nightwing, Ferris Ruiz, Megan (P) Schlagenweit, Sasha (P) Sellaphix, Figaro (P) Woolfolk, Neely (E)

7th Years Eddy, Grace (P) McAdams, Zoey (P) Pennyapple, Atticus (P) Rideau, Emmett Travis, Trent (P)

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Aileen took one last glance at the classroom, checking to see if everything was in place. A soft breeze drifted through the windows, ruffling the light curtains pinned to the sides and disturbing any dust that had collected over the summer months. The desks sat in neat rows, with a little lamp that she’d attached to each of them. Her desk was cleared, her supplies were stored, and she’d already written this message on the board:

Fifth Years: Runes and Norse Mythology
Seventh Years: New Developments in Runic Research

Welcome! Please take a syllabus and your seats.

The room was ready. Was she? Aileen smoothed out her lightweight, pastel yellow robe and checked her watch. Class started in five minutes. She had felt restless all day, though she’d kept herself busy organizing her office and catching up on her reading. She must have checked her watch thousands of times. It wasn’t that she was nervous, exactly (or so she liked to think). It was just the first time that she’d be teaching such young students- teenagers, good Merlin! Aileen was used to informal meetings with fellow scholars and crewmates, where they sat around sipping tea and going over their latest discoveries. She was also used to giving formal, structured lectures in front of a room full of other researchers. She was not used to fifteen and seventeen year-olds. This would be a learning experience for them all!

As she waited for the first arrivals, Aileen walked over to a window and gazed at the courtyard below, hoping that the students received her note about the change in schedule. She shook her head and sighed. Did Snark really expect her to teach fifth and seventh years together? Thankfully she had enough seats, but she didn’t appreciate the inconvenience. Not at all. She also couldn’t help but think that it was on purpose, intended to annoy her- which it did.

Yet she would adapt and things would soon change, Aileen decided, turning when she heard the door open. She fixed a smile on her face and walked back to her desk to hand the student a syllabus. Someone had arrived! That was, admittedly, a relief.

His study period had become disrupted due to scheduling conflicts. The new Headmistress, Snark or whatever, was wrecking all that Hogwarts had been. She was practically a new Voldemort, only not as powerful or destructive. Maybe she'd get there, though Zoey knew she could never be that strong, and he also knew her to be a disturbed woman. But just because his study period was now replaced with a class, it wouldn't stop him from still being the smartest student there was.

Wearing his robes in his own unique fashion, tucked oddly in places they shouldn't be, he made his way up to the second floor for his new Ancient Runes class, at a new time period and with a new professor. He knew not much about her, but he was sure she'd be a great woman to teach them. He never doubted a young professors ability to teach a classroom.

Finally, he reached the door. Opening it slowly, he walked in and took a seat in the front row. Smiling with his oddities, he looked at the professor and extended a greeting, "Hello Professor Reid. I'm McAdams, and I plan to make my last year here the best around, both academically and socially." He grabbed the syllabus from her hand and gave her a smile.

Figaro Sellaphix was out of breath and sweaty when he arrived.  He'd had to run all the way to the cellars and then the Potions dungeon and back up stairs.  Instead of a usual grin, he looked a little frantic.

He trotted up to the new Runes teacher and handed her a note, slightly damp and very wrinkled.  "I'm Figaro," he said in hushed tones.  "Got a note from my folks  - see, Professor Gunnar's signed it.  Look, it says that even though I Trolled Out of this course last year that I could have another go and see if I make the O.W.L. anyway."

Figaro Sellaphix, usually loud and unperturbed, actually seemed pretty self conscious about this.  He wasn't known for having the best marks or anything, but he really did need to move on and take his N.E.W.T.s in Runes eventually.  But last year, Runes had just been too difficult.  That, and he had been preoccupied last year with making the Quidditch team. (Which he absolutely did not.)

"My father will poison me in my sleep if I don't get an O.W.L. - see, he even wrote that," Figaro said nervously.  "You don't even have to grade me - just let me take the class so I have at least a little chance of doing okay on the O.W.L."

Figaro looked up at Professor Reid, waiting for a reaction.  He looked over his shoulder at a seventh year who's arrived, Zoey McAdams.  Had he heard anything?

Aileen quirked an eyebrow at the young man who entered the room, deducing from his attire that he was a Slytheirn, but one who didn’t seem to know how to dress. Or perhaps that was on purpose. Her younger sister Abby often wore some strange things just to rebel and annoy their easily annoyed mother.

He seemed confident enough, if a little arrogant, perhaps. “Good to know, Mr. McAdams,” Aileen replied, inwardly shuddering at the social convention of calling young people by their last names. She felt that formality should be reserved for adults, but at a school like this, it seemed she’d have to get used to it. It had never bothered her when she’d been a student, but it seemed strange to her now.

The next student who arrived looked (and smelled) like he’d ran all the way here! Aileen checked her watch for the millionth time. They still had a few minutes, so the boy wasn’t late. Perhaps he’d heard that she hated tardiness. Aileen unfolded the note carefully, not wanting to know why it felt damp, and skimmed it over as the student nervously pleaded with her to let him take the class. She glanced at him and folded the note, slipping it inside the top desk drawer.

“Here, take a syllabus,” she offered with a polite smile. “Why don’t you stop by my office after class and we’ll talk more about it then. You’re welcome to sit in on the class, for now.”

Aileen wanted to find out more about what had given the boy such trouble in his last Runes class, but asking him about it in front of the other students wasn’t appropriate. She felt no need to embarrass anyone. Yet.

With a sigh, Figaro's tense expression brightened into a relieved grin.  "Thanks!"

It wasn't a firm yes yet, but at least he was one step further away from a horrible toxic death at the hand of his O.W.L. crazed apothecary father.  Okay, okay, his dad was probably overreacting and not actually intending to commit infanticide.  But what he would actually do if Fig didn't get the grade he would need to apprentice with the same old potioneer that his father had - well, it would probably be poetically ironic and unpleasant. 

He took the offered syllabus and tucked it under his arm and wiped his hair back from his face.  "Okay, well good.  I'll be right back then.  See you soon, Professor."

With that, he dropped his stuff on the floor right in front of the teacher, and trotted out of the classroom.

While Sasha had always enjoyed school, Ancient Runes - along with Arithmancy - had always been among his favorite classes.  Logic, systematic problem solving and straight memorization had always been skills he'd excelled in.  And, there was something puzzle-ishly therapeutic about sitting down to translating a string of runes.  Usually, it was classes like Divination that required entirely illogical, soul-searching thought processes that proved challenging to him. 

With books in hand (and perhaps a bit too much enthusiasm in his step to seem entirely cool), Sasha stepped into the classroom after carefully straightening his robes.  The woman standing in front of the class was unfamiliar - Sasha tried to remember if they'd been told that their previous professor would be leaving his post at the end of the last year.  Had he left voluntarily?  Had he left as a result of the new Headmistress?  He was curious but, of course, such details were none of his business.  And, change could be good.  Right?  Well, the change of  school head hadn't been.  But, maybe this would be different. 

As Sasha watched Figaro trot out of the classroom for unknown reasons, he couldn't help wondering if that was an ill omen.  Taking a deep breath and stealing himself, he approached the professor.  "Ma'am," Sasha offered, politely, dipping his head forward slightly as he took a copy of the syllabus.  He glanced at the board before taking his seat and arranging his supplies on his desk.

Aileen ignored the pile of belongings left at her feet and decided that it was time to start class. She nodded at the boy who had greeted her politely and then set up his things on the desk. That was a good sign! At least one person was prepared.

Checking her watch (4:00 on the dot), she walked over to the classroom door and shut it quietly, making it easier for her to concentrate and note any latecomers. Then she went back to the front of the class and smiled briefly at them, squashing the lone butterfly flitting about in her stomach. These were teenagers, but she was a grown woman. It would be fine.

“Good afternoon,” she greeted them. “Or, I should say, late afternoon. I’m glad everyone has received my note about the change in schedule. Don’t worry- this will be temporary. We should have separate classes for the fifth and seventh years very soon.” If she had anything to say about it, the matter would be resolved by suppertime.

“On the syllabus,” Aileen picked one up and set it back down again. “You’ll find the rules, grading procedures, assignments, and what you’ll learn each session. I won’t read it to you, because by this point you should be able to do that yourself,” her tone became slightly teasing. “Suffice it to say, if you come to class on time, work hard, and don’t talk while I’m talking, you should do just fine. Of course, my office is always open if you need any extra help.”

“I’ve looked over the notes that your last professor left for me, and it seems that you should be up to date on the history of runes and how to translate them. However, since it’s easy to forget a little over the summer, I’ll just refresh your memory and then move on to today’s lesson.”

As she talked, Aileen walked around the front of the room, the movement keeping her occupied and calm. “As you all know, runes have myths attached to them. Mythical figures, stories, legends, many of which never existed in any form but the ancient runecarver’s mind. Today, we don’t believe in the same things they believed in, but it’s good to study the myths to get an idea of how their minds worked and how they understood magic. Knowing this will help you make more accurate translations and see connections you would never notice otherwise.

“To the Northern European tribes, runes weren’t just symbols that made magical things happen. They weren’t just used for communication. They were sacred. Why? Because it was believed that Odin brought them to the people. He went on a quest of wisdom and visited the world tree, Yggdrasil. There he sought the advice of the Norns, who talked of the past and foretold the future. But that wasn’t enough. So then he went to the giant Mimir, offering his left eye to learn more of the mysteries of the world. Still, that wasn’t enough. On his way back he stumbled on a tree that caught his coat in its branches. For nine days, he hung from the tree as the thoughts and mysteries of the world came to him. It was only when he took up the runes and carved them into the trunk that he was able to free himself, journeying on to give the secret of runes to his people."

Aileen paused, gathering her thoughts, and then recited a verse from memory:

"Wounded I hung on a wind-swept gallows
For nine long nights,
Pierced by a spear, pledged to Odin,
Offered, myself to myself
The wisest know not from whence spring
The roots of that ancient rood.
They gave me no bread,
They gave me no mead,
I looked down;
With a loud cry
I took up runes;
From that tree I fell.

"That’s a translation of the Havamŕl in the Poetic Edda. For anyone interested, you can find the full version of the Havamŕl in Chapter Two of A History of Ancient Languages.”

For those who weren’t as interested, she thought it best to move on. “Now that you know more than you ever wanted to about the rune legend of Odin, we’ll begin something more practical. There are several different orders of runes, but in this class we’ll primarily use the Elder Futhark, the most ancient runic alphabet. Can anyone hazard a guess as to why?”

Aileen waited, giving some of the sleepier students time to wipe the drool off their chins and look mildly interested.

Though Sasha had, already, read through the syllabus while waiting for the rest of the class to arrive, he looked back down at the pages once more when Professor Reid indicated the pages before looking back up.  Being on time, don't talk over her.  There were probably quite a few that would actually be delighted if Sasha committed either act.  But, as it was, it seemed highly unlikely either of those things would occur.

As soon as the lecture started, Sasha set the tip of his quill to the page and began feverishly taking notes.  He thought little about what he was writing - when he went back to reread and tidy up his notes, the information would be more solidified in his head.  Northern European, he'd written before, briefly, glancing up.   It had happened before in Ancient Runes.  Sasha was used to school and his home life being entirely separate and, anytime the edges faded and grayed it felt peculiar and, sometimes, unsettling. 

But, ancient runes regularly led to stories and histories that integrated the two worlds.  It related, ironic as it seemed, as much to his family's history as it did to his world here.  As much as it usually unnerved him, if he gave it too much thought, Sasha usually remembered that that was what drove his fascination in the subject as well. 

Enthralled in its self-induced confusion, Sasha's attention had wandered through most of the recited legend but lurched back to the topic in time to write down the location of the full version.  He then turned his attention to the question posed.  He hesitated a moment before raising his hand and straightening up in his seat once the he'd been acknowledged.

"Elder Futhark," Sasha said, the largely germanic phrase carrying a slightly pronounced accent.  "- is the runic order that many of the later formulated orders were derived from.  By studying the original, we heighten our ability to derive and deduce information from the later versions.  Much like many muggles study Latin to better understand modern romantic languages.  While many of the later orders may have had a stronger impact on modern history, such as Younger Futhark, they a condensed and reduced form of Elder Futhark."   Whether a class of wizards would be aware of the muggle historical reference, Sasha didn't know. 

The reference

Figaro finally returned, creeeeeeaaaaaaaking the heavy door open slowly, and tried to walk quietly back to his seat.  But he was soaking wet, so his stocking feet slapped on the cold pavement and his dripping white shirt slapped against himself.  He was wet. But no longer sweaty.

He tried to be as quiet as possible and the new Professor spoke on topics about broomlength over his comprehension or interest.  He like Runes - the writing them part. The listening part is what got him at Troll last term.

He went for his belongings and picked them up, and then slid in with a slippy slop next to Sasha Schlagenweit. 

And when Figaro heard the well-kept German-born Ravenclaw's answer, Figaro turned towards him slowly with an eyebrow raised in the manner of Are You Taking The Micky?  Sasha was a wierd kid.  In many ways, weirder than Astrid and Elijah who... you know, talked to other kids sometimes.  Sasha? Fig didn't get him.

He turned back to the Professor.  "Did we cover that last year? We expected to know this?  I mean, I think I remember Furthark, but not that Furthark.  Can we have partners for this assignment?"

He looked back at Sasha and gestured none to subtly that they should be partners.

Sasha glanced up as the door creaked open, his eyes widening as he regarded the dripping Figaro.  As far as Sasha could remember, the Hufflepuff had been mostly dry when he'd passed him on his way in the classroom. 

Curious and slightly appalled, Sasha couldn't resist watching the boy's progress up to his belongings much as one might watch a man walking by in a long, pink dress.  Sasha's eyes continued to widen as the soggy lad slid into a seat next to him and he shifted a little away, as if the boy's wet state might have been contagious.  "What happened to you?" Sasha whispered to the Hufflepuff.

Finally, Sasha managed to turn his attention back to the Professor.  He tried to keep his attention focused on the topic at hand, but the dripping boy was proving a frustratingly strong distraction.  As discretely as he could, Sasha slowly tugged his wand from his pocket and pointed it, under armed at Figaro and, just as the Hufflepuff addressed the professor, Sasha muttered a drying charm under his breath.

Aileen paused for a second in her lecture when the nervous, talkative boy she’d met earlier slunk back into the classroom. She raised her eyebrows in puzzlement, wondering what in Merlin’s name had happened to him. Had he decided to take a dip in the lake, or aggravate Moaning Myrtle before class? With a slight shake of her head she continued on, watching the other boy look up from his notes with an alarmed expression as Figaro slipped into the seat next to him. Aileen’s lip twitched but she smothered a smile. Just as she finished talking, Aileen casually waved her wand, mopping off the puddles on the floor. It wouldn’t do to have someone fall and break their neck the first day of her class.

The boy sitting next to the Kraken of the Deep raised his hand. She nodded at him, relieved that a student was actually participating, and smiled when she heard what he had to say.

“That’s correct, Mr..?” She paused, waiting for him to supply his last name. “Four points for Ravenclaw.”

The drenched Hufflepuff piped up with questions that led Aileen to think the Troll he’d received last year may not have been undeserved. “Mr. Sellaphix, is it? No, you won’t be asked about the Odin Legend on the first exam, or why we use the Elder Futhark specifically,” she emphasized the name that he’d mispronounced slightly. “There will be one or two essay questions along with the runic translations, but I’ll let you know what you need to study at least a few weeks before you’re tested.”

Aileen hesitated a second. She didn’t want to take off points for tardiness (and sogginess) the very first day of class, but she also didn’t want it to happen again. When Mr. Schlagenweit cast a drying spell on his classmate, she took that opportunity to mention it.

“Next time you come to class, Mr. Sellaphix, please be punctual and don’t track in the lake with you. A drying spell before class should suffice,” she looked at the two young men for a moment, a hint of amusement in her voice. Then it was back to professor-mode. “Now, for the first part of this assignment, I’d prefer you work alone. Please pick one rune from your rune set and tell me what myths and mythical figures are attached to it. If you must, use your dictionary and textbooks to get an idea. You have ten minutes. Raise your hand if you have any questions.”


(OOC Note: Feel free to make something up, or use this site for reference)

The corridors of Hogwarts, while relieving to be back in, sometimes was still hard for Meg to walk through. She was entering her fifth year now, and she still managed to get lost when that staircase moved. It had taken her by surprise not to long ago, and it managed to drop her off on one of the corridors that she was least familiar with. It figured for that matter. She had received the note that the class time was changed. She left early from the Ravenclaw Tower, but the staircase messed her up too much, that she managed to be lake to Ancient Runes, and on the first day nonetheless! And, to make matters worse, she knew that they were having a new Professor for it. Talk about her chance to make a good impression. She would be lucky if Professor Reid would even forgive her for being late.

Arriving at the classroom door, Meg tried to calm down. Having run from one part of the castle to the other really took its toll on her. Especially, since she knew that she was going to be late. Managing to hold her breath, she pushed open the door to the room as quiet as she could, despite the creaking noise that sounded from it. Without looking at anyone in the room, she quickly closed the door, and immediately took the closest seat that was unoccupied. She hoped that no one even noticed that she was gone, but that probably wasn't going to happen.

Just as Meg was unpacking her Ancient Runes textbook, she heard the assignment that Professor Reid wanted the class to work on alone. Taking out some parchment, she tried to think of a rune to choose. Possibly, if she managed to give a well thought-out response, possibly that would remedy her lateness? Well, she could hope anyway. Opening up her book, she began to write her assignment on the rune, kenaz. Drawing the respective rune on the top of her parchment, she listed the rune's name, and the different meanings of it.

Atticus had gotten in the a fight earlier that day with some ruddy Hufflepuff werewolf supporter in the hallway. So instead of doing the right thing and saying, 'No thank you I don't want one of your pins' Atticus did the sneaky thing and waited until the puff was alone so that he hexed them so they were stuck in the disappearing step. Then taking a box of the pins he proceeded to drop them down the side off the moving stairs so they fell to places unknown.

Grinning to himself, Atticus made his way to his Ancient Runes class. Never before had he been like this, but he was at his wits end with the ridiculous nonsense going on at the school. Ava had been acting off, and he was sick of the dirty looks he was getting from the Ravenclaws everytime he walked by.

If they wanted to scowl at him he would be sure to give them something to scowl about when he got them alone.

Entering his Ancient Runes class, Atticus sighed as he took his usual seat near the back of the classroom.  Giving a cursory glance he saw no one he really spoke to was in there yet. Seemed class was off to a rip roaring start shortly after his arrival and he wasn't about to start talking if he didn't half to. Taking out parchment he started to make it look as if he was taking some form of notes.

Figaro mouthed the words, 'Thanks, mate' when Sasha helped him out with the drying charm.  Feeling the eyes of the stern Runes professor on him, Figaro tried to hunker down and complete the assignment.  He flipped through the book and selected the rune called Raitho.  It looked just like a regular R, and it meant the R sound, so he figured it'd be an easy one.

He wrote that bit down and then delved into the analysis.  That was much more complex than he thought it would be.  It meant journey and intersecting paths and he wasn't entirely sure what that had to do with R other than road...  He bit his lip as he concentreated.

But the door creaked open and Figaro looked over his shoulder.  And then he scooted his desk over loudly, a few feet away from where Atticus had sat.  That jerk was on a tirade - he heard what he'd done to his mate and was not entirely eager to be within arm's reach.

As Figaro kept working through his assignment over the next few minutes, he couldn't help but check over his shoulder over and over to see what Atticus may or may not be doing. 

A few more latecomers slipped in and she let out an audible sigh. One Ravenclaw and one Slytherin, she noted. Aileen waited for them to settle in and checked her watch after some time had passed.

“About two more minutes,” she announced. “Next session, I will be taking off points for tardiness. You’ve all been warned,” she said dryly. The only reason she wasn’t punishing them now was because the schedule had changed, so she could understand the confusion, even if she didn’t like it. Of course, some of them probably made it a habit to arrive late to class in general, but she’d know who those students were soon enough.

When most of the quills had ceased scratching and the faces in front of her grew especially slack-jawed and tired, she decided it was time. “Time’s up!” Aileen thought of something else. “When you talk about your rune, please tell me your name. It’ll make it easier for me to learn who everyone is. And, remember your seats. This is where you’ll be sitting for the rest of the term.” At least, until the schedule was fixed and the seventh and fifth years had separate classes again.

She paused for the inevitable protests and groans. “Who would like to go first? Any volunteers?” Aileen tried a friendly smile.