Students Currently Attending:

Gryffindor

Kit Branwell :: 3 (+2)
Sophie Flickwick :: 5 (+6)
Joshua Harcroft :: 2 (+3)

Hufflepuff

Bridget Nilson :: 1
Figaro Sellaphix :: 5 (+2)

Ravenclaw

Megan Ruiz :: 1
Sasha Shlagenweit :: 3 (+3) (-5)
Peyton Wenworth :: 3 (-5)

Slytherin

Ferguson Amherst :: 1
Erin Harper :: 1
Callum Knight :: 2 (+3)
Griselle Knolly :: 1

Ignan watched the fifth years assemble in the classroom steadily for the first lesson of the day. There was the usual noise and clatter from the corridor as the school moved about for the day, only it seemed more brash that morning. The Professor had risen early, having woken in the dark before the January dawn, with thoughts on his mind. A dream had revisited him, which was more of a memory induced fantasy of what if. Memories of those bloodlust days in Italy during the war had come flooding back, the need to experiment, the strength of emotion, the sounds of pain, such feral, primal things to recall and experience. The monster in the back of his head had enjoyed the thought, even if the old man within him told him otherwise.

Placing a jar of frogs on the desk, he suddenly became aware of Schlagenweit looking as if he wanted to address him. Then, behind, he became aware of a figure who had not frequented his class of late. About to speak with Sasha, the bell rang deep within the school, and he sighed inwardly.
"Can it wait until the end?" He asked Sasha in the politest tone he could muster.

Swinging the door shut with the slight exertion of his will, he flicked his wand at it to persuade it to latch behind the students.
"Don't let me interrupt your last minute reading." He addressed the class, stepping down from the raised platform his desk stood on, and waving his wand in a broad arc, text books flying shut all round the classroom, before sliding backwards into the stomachs of their owners.
"The British Ministry restricts quite a number of spells, considered to be dark magic, but last lesson I requested you prepare reading on the three most significant of the set. Name and define." He folded his arms and looked around the class expectantly.

It was Callum's first day back to Defense. He had been avoiding the class like the plague since Sasha's display of magical prowess and Ingan's subsequent display of favoritism and stupidity. Were it not for the intervention taken on by his head of house and his prefect, Callum likely wouldn't be here now. But, as it were, he was not allowed to skip anymore classes. So there he was, in Defense.

He needed to talk to the professor- to apologize- how disgusting a thing- but the chance was not there yet, so he took his seat. Callum inspected the frogs on his professor's desk with mild curiosity, his interest caught by the instruction to name and define the three unforgiveables.

It was a dangerous question given what had happened to Callum. He was fairly certain what Sasha had done was as close to the cruciatus curse as one could get. Such comments, though, must be kept to himself. He was supposed to sit down, shut up, and behave from here on out. How boring that was going to be.

But now it was important for him to prove that he was no fool- that he did, indeed, have a brain and magical skill and the ability to act like an adult instead of a tempestuous child. So he decided to offer one of the curses, and keep his snide comments to himself. Callum lazily raised his hand before responding. "The Cruciatus Curse is one of the Unforgiveables by ministry standards," he stated. "It tortures the victim by causing excruciating pain. But in order for it to work, you have to have the desire to truly inflict harm on a person," Callum cast a glance at Sasha then. If he could truly hurt anyone, it would be him. But, instead of some smart remark, he turned his gaze back on the professor. "If you do not really mean it when you cast it, then it doesn't work the way it's supposed to."

Sophie was not looking forward to Defense. There were few things other than friend drama that just the mention of could completely sour Sophie’s mood. It was just one of those things - she was not a fan of being put in situations where she would not naturally excel. She had to work hard to keep her head afloat with Professor Storm. Practical application classes that required both focus and agility were not Sophie’s strong point, and she had been wary every single day she entered the classroom that they would have another round robin duel off and running match. While the vast majority of it was their own self inflicted drama - the fifth years were pretty beat up at this point and she couldn’t tell who was going to completely crack first, for all she knew she was next on the mental chopping block. She’d been splinched between total rage and weeping constantly lately.

Smoothing her skirt and taking a seat toward the middle of the classroom, Sophie busied herself with parchment and hoped that today would be a lecture day. She could really use a lecture day. When Storm asked about the reading she actually felt well prepared, raising her hand after Callum [slightly surprised that he actually knew what was going on and not being a smart ass]. She cleared her throat, “Another is the Imperius Curse, which causes the victim to fall into a trance and is used to control their behavior  by the caster. Kind of like hypnosis I think? It enables the victim to do things they wouldn’t otherwise be able to - from physical actions to things they might otherwise find morally objectionable,’ she felt rather proud of herself just then, “It can be resisted but from what I read the person has to have an extremely strong will”.

Ignan nodded to each. They were adequate descriptions for an introduction, yes. They would embellish later. Good to hear Callum's well considered voice from the floor again.
"Three points a piece to Slytherin and Gryffindor." He replied, without giving critique verbaly.

"And the third?" He asked the class, eyes keen. Nobody usually wished to talk about the last, death an uncomfortable subject to the young mind.

Josh was listening with rapt atention as the Professor brought up the unforgivable curses. Josh shuddered, as whne Harcrfot Manor had been attacked, he had to dodge a couple of unforgivables. " The third, and debateably worst, is the Killing Curse, Avada Kedavra. I say debateably worst becasue it causes instant death, while the Cruciatus causes insanity with long exposure to it, which is arguably worse than death." Josh shuddered, the unforgivables tha he had to dodge were really close.  "All of the unforgibales can be dodged, or even  blocked if you can move something solid in between you and the caster, but magically, you can't block any of them, although Sophie is correct about the imperius being resisted." Josh added.

Storm gave a nod.
"Another three to Gryffindor." He responded quietly.

Continuing in the soft, but clear voice, he began to elaborate.

"The Unforgivable Curses are some of the most powerful known Dark Arts spells of this day. Please note the phrasing, known Dark Arts spells." He cleared his throat a moment, "The Dark Arts are always evolving, always experimenting, often at a far greater pace than the conventionally accepted magic everybody uses. The greatest arguments behind this are that it is experimentation without restriction - apart from potential arrest, imprisonment that is - and that the dark arts are magical evolution, and the way forwards to improving and strengthening our practise for the future."

Regrettably, an opinion he still believed in, though few would share it in this classroom, untainted by experience and exposure to casting such magic.

"You may ask how something can be more powerful than Avada Kedavra, then do apply some lateral thinking. Harcroft just mentioned that it is blocked by objects. Not by a sheet of paper, but by objects that each contain elemental magic, stone, of earth, different magic, old magic. It cannot be deflected by conventional magic of either camp - not fully. As you might appreciate, experimentation into the effects of using the spell to deflect the spell have often ended in tragedy, if attempted at all, and the dependency of emotion and pure hatred to cast them hinders things further." He cleared his throat again, conscious that his own lingering thoughts from his dream were the cause of the frog in his throat, the ones in the jar sheer metaphorical coincidence.

"It also is for one recipient at a time, and it may be days, weeks or years before somebody does chance upon the strength and the skill to extend it to two, three... a whole room full. For now, at least, the efficiency of mass murder is not in direct spell damage, but by changing the environment, or poisoning." His trivial referral of the last part was realised by his conscious moments later and his winced slightly. He had been considering on several occasions in the past two weeks about the most efficient way to kill the class at once, Merlin dammit.

"They were first classified as unforgivable in 1717. They are forbidden by law, and culture, though the Ministry may flout its own law in war and times of peril. However, aurors tasked with using the spell rarely carry it out correctly, due to the complex issues of soul and conscience. Those in that line of work rarely have the true disposition to carry them out with great effect."

He turned and retrieved the jar of frogs, fishing one out between thumb and forefinger, and placing the rest aside. It began to hop along the first row of desks, its beady eyes staring about the place and giving a curious ribbit as it considered its new surroundings.

"Imperio."

The ribbit resounded inside Ignan's head as he cast, and the frog immediately stopped hopping. Sensing it had taken hold, Ignan raised his wand slowly, and the frog began to walk on its long back legs rather than hopping, walking along the desk, before performing a cartwheel, as best it could on two long legs and two short ones. It launched itself over the heads of the front row, into the second, before using a quill as a parachute to land on the third.

Obediently, with a respectful dip of his head, Sasha found his seat.  As much as he wanted to apologize to Professor Storm and explain himself, he knew well enough the truth behind the whole adage that actions spoke louder than words.  He settled himself in his seat, placed his supplies carefully on the desk in front of him and prepared himself for class. 

He would do everything in his power to demonstrate, despite one momentary misstep, he was a model student.  However, given the apparent subject material, it wasn't going to be easy. 

The Unforgivables. 

He kept his eyes fixed carefully on his parchment as Knight spoke up about the first.  Note taking was easy, acceptable distraction - they allowed the mind to split its attention between the topic at hand and the process of translating what it heard into words.  He heard Knight's deliberate pause and glanced up, only to find the other boy staring at him.  But, the Slytherin had turned back to the class and Sasha turned back to his parchment.

Sophie spoke up next and Sasha busied himself with carefully writing out those notes, distracting himself with notes on the Imperious curse even as Harcroft provided the third.  He hesitated a moment, glancing up, on the verge of pointing out whether it was the worst wasn't, really, that debatable but Professor Storm had pushed the class further. 

Sasha turned his attention to the poor frog, shifting uncomfortably in his seat.  He peered over the desks at the poor thing, watching the strange, blank look in the amphibians' eyes.  It was strange ... it was a frog, of course, but there was something familiar about the way the frog stared straight ahead.  What, he wasn't sure.  It just ...

He leaned forward across his desk to peer closer at the thing, trying to identify what it was.

The Unforgivables. Now this was a lecture Erin didn't mind sitting through. And it was a practical demonstration, which was equal parts fascinating and creepy. He was currently sitting behind Schlagenweit (who had nothing to fear from him in THIS class; Erin was not suicidally stupid) and near-ish to Sophie, and was paying absolutely rapt attention.

He wasn't the only one finding this fascinating. Erin knew because Sasha's current craning-over-his-desk to see was interrupting Erin's attempt to do the same thing. He brought a hand up to hide his smile - not from Schlagenweit, who couldn't see him anyways, but from Storm. He didn't seem to like the idea of his students being anything but miserable; Erin didn't want to provoke him.

Slowly, Erin leaned forward. "Interested, Schlagenweit?" he murmured just behind the other boy's shoulder in a carefully non-carrying voice. If he wasn't careful, who knew what Storm would do to him? Probably use him as practice for the Killing Curse. Altogether a situation best to be avoided.

Honest? It had been kind of nice with Callum Knight out of the equation for a couple of weeks.  WIth him skipping or being kicked out, whichever it was, Figaro had one less thing to worry about.  Which was nice. Professor Storm provided plenty of things to worry about.

And a lecture on Unforgiveable Curses was one of them.  Rather than really try and engage the gravity of the topic, Figaro did what many emotionally immature teenagers of his age do and take it lightly.  He tried not to think about what the frogs were for.  He tried not to wonder what Professor Storm was thinking when he said experimentation with the Dark Arts was important for the future of wizardkind. Or what it meant that Aurors could use Unforgivables under certain circumstances.

Instead he wondered why Sasha Schlagenweit took notes when he already knew everything already. 

Instead, he gazed off into space, (or rather, the side of Sophie Flickwick's head), as the class got into gear.

His eyes snapped forward, though, when he heard the Unforgivable curse cast.  Imperius.  Everyone was craning their head to see, and Figaro did the same as the little frog lept around.  It didn't seem like it was in any pain. 

"How'd you learn to do that?" he blurted and then immediately regretted it.  Somewhere, another student snorted with a stifled laugh. 

Sophie felt a little crestfallen that, well, Professor Storm didn’t lavish a bit more praise on her. Merlin! She was becoming needy if she thought she’d ever get approval from the auld goat. She was about to correct Josh, about the ability to deflect such curses but the professor moved swiftly along. For some reason the fifth year’s answer really irked her. Debating the level of horrendous for each curse was like comparing if it was worse to be hit by a bus or eaten by a dragon. Neither outcome was particularly pleasant. She kept her mouth shut though as Defense was not a class to get into bickering matches. Professor Storm was absolutely nutty - and not in the fun way Professor Grimlish had been. He was the kind of nutty that would get you killed.

Focusing on his lecture she tilted her head to one side, trying to decipher his line of thought when he called out Imperio. Her eyes grew wide and her mouth dropped open, she nearly screamed YOU’RE NOT SUPPOSED TO DO THAT! She caught herself though, her heart ceasing up in her chest. He was Ignan Bloody Storm. He could do whatever the devil he wanted. He was the Chuck Norris of the wizarding world. No one questioned him…and if they did they ended up with a wand point at their head. If he had a beard it would have had the ability to punch people.

So, Sophie closed her mouth and watched as the Frog leapt through the air and landed with a flop in the middle of her parchment. Great, now her pretty notes would have frog butt prints on them. She peered down at the animal - who seemed natural enough, save for the vacant stare. She reached out a finger to poke it and then thought better, it would be just like her to get gummed to death by a frog. Instead she shifted her eyes up to Storm and wondered what he was going to make the slimy little wart do next - trying to keep from visibly shuttering. She didn’t mind frogs, it was just the look it was giving her was so creepy.

Fergie had sort of hoped that Callum would continue skipping DADA lessons for the rest of the year. It would have been unpractical, of course. OWLs were only five months away. Not even a good student, like Callum, could afford to miss too many classes. Preparation was key. But Callum could hold a grudge like nobody's business, so Fergie thought that maybe, just maybe, the other boy would stay away. These hopes were dashed when Ferguson entered the classroom that morning and Callum Knight was the first person his gaze landed on. Great.

The Slytherin boy paused just inside the door for a brief moment. Since that fiasco in the Great Hall - the one that had landed him in the Hospital Hut - Fergie had been giving his dormmate as wide a berth as he could manage. And class was no different. After the brief pause, Fergie quickly moved to take a seat in the first row, next to Kit.  "Good morning," he greeted the Gryffindor girl with a slight smile before situating his parchment, ink, and quills on the desk top. Sitting next to Kit had two advantages. The first was that she was situated at the front of the classroom. This wouldn't have been considered a plus ordinarily, but since today Callum had elected to sit at the back, the distance was appreciated. The second advantage to sitting next to Kit was the girl herself. With her martial arts training and impeccable wand work, the girl was practically a superhero.

 "Do you think this means Knight'll be returning to Astronomy and History of Magic, too?" he asked her in a whisper, just before Storm began his lecture. If it did, Fergie was going to miss that extra six hours a week free from Callum's presence.

 Oh boy, the Unforgivables! Storm sure knew how to present a fun, light hearted lesson, didn't he? Fergie suppressed a sigh and rested his chin in his hand, listening as Callum, Sophie, and Harcroft gave their answers. Fergie hadn't slept well, he had a headache, and the heavy material this lesson contained was not, he was willing to bet, going to improve his day any. Or that of anyone else. Wasn't there enough tension between the fifth years right now? Did the professors really have to encourage it by teaching about the gloomiest things possible?

 Then the frog was brought out and things began to get interesting. Storm was actually going to perform the curses? Not all of them, surely! Making a frog tap dance across the desks in the front row (Fergie's included) before sending it parasailing to Sophie's desk was one thing. But the other two curses... The frogs had never done anything to Fergie. He didn't want to watch them be tortured or killed.

 This was going to be a long day.


Thea and Stef told me where Callum & Kit were sitting.

Kit arrived for Defense Against the Dark Arts with plenty of time to spare to get a front-row seat and go through her usual disinfecting ritual of the desk and chair. Some might call Kit a brown-noser and a germaphobe. To them, Kit would reply that brown-nosing was dishonest and that they would see who was laughing come the height of flu season.

"Hello, Fergie," Kit said politely when the Slytherin boy sat down next to her. He was looking well. All things considered. She did worry about Fergie often. Like Fergie, Kit's eyes followed Callum's entrance into the classroom with some surprise. This was...unexpected. Even more so was that he seemed to be on his best behaviour, if his polite answer to the Professor's question was anything to go by.

"I have no idea if he will," she told Fergie. "But it seems like it could be likely."

Kit, for her part, let other students answer the question. She had grown up with an Auror father and already knew what the Unforgivables were in concept, though she had been largely spared from the grizzly details. Her mind was a tad distracted by trying to figure out the best way to suitably bodyguard her Slytherin friend from another Slytherin. Kit hadn't interacted much with Callum Knight, so she honestly could not say she could give an accurate prediction of what he would do next, but based on precedent, even just last lesson, she was going to keep a sharp eye on Fergie.

When Professor Storm began giving the students a demonstration of the Unforgivables, Kit's distraction was temporarily dissolved. For her part, Kit was a hands-on learner and found nothing worked better to get a message across than a good visual demonstration.

She spared almost no thought to the fate of the current frog or any other amphibians in the class' near future. She did, however, get a little disgust-twitch went the frog went skipping across her desk and was very thankful it stopped at Flickwick instead of her own. She didn't know where that frog had been.

The demonstration, however, did bring a practical question to mind- and not how the professor got his Unforgivable skills.  Ignoring, for the time being, Flickwick's obvious horror at the frog's presence on her desk (Kit sympathized) and Sellaphix's outburst (it got easier every year), Kit raised her hand.

"Professor Storm," Kit began. "I understand the basic theory of the Imperious Curse, but I have a question about its limitations. Say a person was compelled to do something he or she physically could not or push their bodies beyond its physical capabilities. Would they freeze up or do it anyway, ignoring any personal pain or damage to their own body? Would they be aware of the pain inflicted on themselves and their own actions while cursed? If that's the case, it seems like the Imperious Curse could be an indirect, albeit painful way to have a person kill themselves- force them to tear their own muscles or lungs instead of a more obvious compulsion like jumping from a cliff or the Killing Curse itself."

((OOC- I left it open for Storm to decide if he called on Kit before she started speaking or if she went ahead without waiting))

Callum watched with keen interest as Ignan cast the imperius curse on a frog, watching it start walking on its hind legs. His eyes followed it until it plopped on Flickwick's desk. He laughed at the way she looked at it. "Wicked," he breathed. Callum wished that he could get up and try out that curse on one of the frogs. He wondered if he would be any good at it. But there was no way that Storm would allow him to do such at hing, and undoubtedly the magical tracer that the ministry kept on everyone under seventeen would go off if he cast something so illegal.

The question that Branwell posed, though, was a good one. He had never thought of that before, but it made sense. There were somethings that people couldn't do. For example, lift a building with their hands and no magical aid. Then she elaborated, mentioning it could be used as a different wayt o have a person kill themselves. That was a less than pleasant thought. He wanted to ask her if she had a budding interest in the dark arts, but was not wanting to start a fight. Callum had assured Landis, and himself, that he wasn't going to cause anymore problems in class. He let his focus drift from Kit to the professor, waiting on his response.

For the most part Peyton was just too damn tired to do anything other than take notes in class and even those wouldn't be up to par. He had spent a few restless nights lately worrying about his brother's whereabouts and the fact that no one, not even his own family seemed keen on letting him know what was going on. It had even gotten as serious as getting a letter from his estranged Grandfather badgering him about what had happened to Xavier as if he had been the cause of it all.

He sat down next to Sasha without a word to his best mate and took out his battered pheasant quill to take notes. While he was jotting down everything that was being said about the Unforgivable Curses it was very likely that when looked upon at a later time none of it made any sense. Peyton wasn't a good note taker to begin with - that's why he had Allie and Sasha - but trying to take notes while he was practically still asleep, the results weren't very good looking.

As the frog began to perform acrobatics Peyton's energy level peaked. What the hell was going on? Was Storm seriously doing this? This had to be against the rules somehow right? He shook his head in disbelief looking at the frog as it danced around. His cool grey blue eyes widened even further once the rest of his classmates - namely Kit - got into a discussion about the limitations of the curse. Why would you even want to know something like that?!

"How'd you learn to do that?" Figaro blurted out, and then seemed to regret it by his face. Ignan still watched the frog with concentration, so caught the look out of the corner of his eye.

Schlagenweit was leaning forward with interest to look at the frog, and Ignan sent it walking backwards towards him, before it jumped up onto Sasha's shoulder, and off again, towards Erin, where it landed on the Slytherin's head and gave a loud ribbit. He could seem Callum was giving it similar interest.

Seeing Sophie Flickwick's mouth hanging open, Ignan was tempted to flick it straight into the void before a train drove inside.

"Never assume you know everything about a person, Sellaphix." He warned, and his mouth twisted into a smirk. "Would I be your defence professor if I didn't know about the very dark arts you need to defend yourselves and dependents from?" He continued to stare at the frog as it moved around the classroom, though could feel the edge of its thoughts as it flagged a little.

"Professor Storm," Kit addressed from the front, "I understand the basic theory of the Imperious Curse, but I have a question about its limitations."
"Go on." Ignan replied, his eyes still glued to the frog, which he was returning across the room still under the spell.
"Say a person was compelled to do something he or she physically could not or push their bodies beyond its physical capabilities. Would they freeze up or do it anyway, ignoring any personal pain or damage to their own body? Would they be aware of the pain inflicted on themselves and their own actions while cursed? If that's the case, it seems like the Imperious Curse could be an indirect, albeit painful way to have a person kill themselves- force them to tear their own muscles or lungs instead of a more obvious compulsion like jumping from a cliff or the Killing Curse itself."

The frog landed with a light weight onto Ignan's hand, having completed its circuit of the classroom. His wand remained pointed to it, just above its head to ensure it sat still, but he finally removed his eyes from it, and blinked at long last.
"No, the spell is limited by physical capability, though you must bear in mind that the mind is a very powerful force even without magical intervention. Accomplished casters will be able to make their victims do anything, unless their victim tries to fight back." The frog gave another ribbit.
"No, they wouldn't be all that aware of the pain, though the caster is able to sense it." He added more quietly, his eyes having slipped back to the frog again.
"I could make it sit underfoot and be crushed, drown itself, keep it controlled as it bled to death.  Even though its a simple minded creature, it isn't set apart from each of you in this classroom. I've seen aurors completely incapacitated by it." Both alongside him in the Black Forest in his twenties, and also at his own wand.

He dropped the frog gently on Kit's desk and leant down until they were almost on eye level and asked darkly,
"Would you like me to prove the point?"