Professor Storm was glad that he and Knight had come to the arrangement at last to control and concentrate Callum's destructive tendencies out of lessons and out of view of his Professors, and into something else. Not that Callum couldn't control that behaviour otherwise, Ignan was just happy to provide a little more incentive. Sometimes they would merely pick up a debate, end up on a different subject entirely by the time they had finished their short meetings together. It was interesting and curious to be accruing students with intense interests in particular areas of magic, outside of lessons, and very refreshing - reminiscent of Durmstrang.

Sunday afternoon could drag, but by arrangement, the two of them met outside where the room of requirement was situated, and after a brief pause to make the door appear, stepped inside.

"Ahh good." Ignan remarked, pleased to see the room was not filled with clutter, but open, with a few useful objects inside - sack cloth figures, two mirrors, and a chest which Ignan had a feeling would contain anything else they needed, should a need arise.

They stepped inside, and Ignan shouldered off his jacket, hanging it on the coat stand near the entrance, anticipating the need to be able to move.
"Sunday afternoons were never my favourite, always a foreboding sense of the week ahead hanging over the death of the week." He remarked to Callum casually, undoing the cuffs of his white shirt and rolling them up to just below his elbows, his striped grey waistcoat wouldn't get in the way, not that he regularly prepared in such a way before defending himself on the fly...

"Thought it might be a well timed opportunity for you to actually realise your own strengths." Ignan told Callum, wand now in hand, his left hand had recovered since his splinching the previous month, though there was still a scar across his left forearm where it had happened, though it faded with time. He turned to face Callum directly, and placed his left hand on his hip, the long pale fingers resting on the neatly tailored cut of his waistcoat. His wand hand clasped his wand gently, gesturing with it.

"I suspect that there are times you are holding back, aware of what the consequences to your partner in class - something I find admirable, and should continue if you're not to cause fatal injury, one by one." A smirk played on Ignan's lips.
"However, I give you permission today to throw your all into it. If you don't, I'll be disappointed." He gave Callum a critical look.

"Committed, Knight?" Professor Storm asked formally, tilting his head.

Callum followed Professor Storm into the room of requirement, following his lead- taking his own jacket off as well as rolling up his sleeves. He let his eyes glance over the room, listening to what his professor had to say. He did not share the same opinion of Sundays, though. Mostly because Callum rarely thought about things in such a deep and eloquent manner.

His eyebrow arched curiously at the mention of realizing his own strengths. "That could be interesting," he admitted. Callum wasn't very sure what strengths they were speaking of, or whether or not he would really be able to live up to the expectations he was sure that Professor Storm had for him.

He chuckled at the idea of causing fatal injury to them one after the other. "No, not all of them," he said. "The girls, at least, would be safe. I had to ask Professor Kirchlechner to change my partner in charms class because I can't practice against a girl." It wasn't right. Callum had few redeeming traits, and often times his dysfunctional sense of chivalry was the only prominent one. "Amherst excluded, of course," he tacked on with a grin. Callum knew it was an inappropriate comment, but didn't much care. Everyone knew how he felt on that specific subject.

"Committed?" he repeated, shuffling awkwardly. "Well, sir, that depends on what exactly you're expecting me to throw at you. I don't doubt your skill as a wizard or capabilities to defend yourself, but the consequences of accidentally causing a professor harm is not something I can be excited about." Especially if those consequences included detentions or further issues with his professors. He had made enough of those on his own.

"Really?" Ignan asked, "I would harbor on it being a very attractive prospect for a proportion of this school, when directed at me." He looked surprised momentarily. "Or perhaps I'm more considering their parents." The surprise turned into a smirk.

"We'll direct your attention towards something inanimate, don't fret, Knight." Turning away, he turned his wand as if about to conduct an orchestra, and the sack cloth figure stood up on its feet, and ambled clumsily into the middle of the room, before standing abruptly straight commanded by a final upwards flick of Ignan's wand. Seemingly held up by nothing, the figure stood at the average height of a man, mobile as such too.

"Are you familiar with the subjugation hex, Callum?" He asked, turning back to the student. "Have you seen or heard it used?"

Callum shrugged. "Whether other students like the idea of it or not, I'm sure that the Headmistress or the Deputy Headmaster might not be too fond of me if they found out I was trying to seriously cause damage with a spell directed at you- whether you asked or not." Besides, Ignan was his elder- he respected the man, and flinging spells at someone he respected seemed nearly as bad as throwing spells at girls in class.

He watched as the dummy walked to the middle of the room and stood there. Callum wondered whether or not the dummy would be resistant to spells but his line of thought was interrupted when Professor Storm posed a question. "Subjugation?" he repeated. "I don't think I'm familiar with that particular hex, sir," Callum said. "If it isn't standard material or one of the more innocent hexes kids when they duel, I'll likely not be sure what you're talking about. I've been studying for my OWLs, so my extracurricular time spent with spells is generally restricted to the standard curriculum for OWL tests."

"I know that subjugate means to force someone into submission- in a sense anyway. Does it have a similar effect to that?" he asked, twirling his own wand in his fingers.

"I don't think I'm familiar with that particular hex, sir. If it isn't standard material or one of the more innocent hexes kids when they duel, I'll likely not be sure what you're talking about. I've been studying for my OWLs, so my extracurricular time spent with spells is generally restricted to the standard curriculum for OWL tests."

Ignan stared at Callum with a single raised eyebrow

"I know that subjugate means to force someone into submission- in a sense anyway. Does it have a similar effect to that?"

"Indeed, it does." The Professor confirmed, and peered at Callum suspiciously, "Has something happened to make you such an avid lover of the Wizarding Examinations Authority, or is it the fact every other teacher here is determined to teach exactly to the syllabus and make you all learn exam answers verbatim?" Stepping away, he turned slightly,
"I realise the reasons why, only I always consider defences to be essential in any form, despite a checklist of so called essentials from a third party." The Professor shrugged, his dislike for the subject's examination setup was never hidden from his colleagues or his students, but it didn't mean he didn't teach to it exactly. Yes, all this students could, and indeed would, perform the required spells, and answer the required questions, but he'd ensure they had a wider knowledge too.

"The spell is devinctus, its a step further than conventional expelliarmus, in that instead of delivering the wand to you, it throws it aside, at the same time as forcing its owner to their knees." He flicked his wand sideways, as if to swipe in the air towards the sack cloth figure, and a jagged white bolt of light shot from his wand.

Instantaneously in the centre of the room, the knees of the figure gave way, and it fell heavily onto its face.
"Clearly its a little harder to demonstrate the effects on a wand without using another magician..." He looked to Callum, "Would you oblige, for better understanding?" Ignan meant, he wished to subject Callum to the hex just so the student could experience it first hand. "I won't be quite as violent. One does have to mean the hex..."

"If I don't pass my OWLs, I can't take the NEWTs in a subject- and if I don't get enough NEWTs, my future outside of Hogwarts is pretty bleak. And I'd rather not ruin my future by ignoring the standards, or get into trouble with my parents for screwing up my tests. My dad still calls the shots in my family, and if he's unhappy my standard of living isn't going to be so great over the summer or next year at school." And that was not a pleasant thought. Spending his sixth year with no pocket money and being forced to spend every weekend with Imogen would be awful. (His dad had threatened both on multiple occasions if he didn't do well on his OWLs.)

The Slytherin watched as Professor Storm demonstrated the spell on the dummy, and winced when it fell with a loud thud on its face. Instinctively he brought a hand up to his nose, rubbing it. Ouch.

He looked at Storm incredulously when the man asked if he tried the spell on him. Quite as violent? Callum had no doubt no matter the level of violence that face to the floor was going to hurt like hell. He gripped the cocobolo handle of his wand tightly, and wondered for a moment how serious Storm was. The professor wasn't the sort to joke around. He'd learned that already.

After a few moments of hesitation, Callum shuffled to the center of the room, close to the dummy. "I just hope when you break my nose that you'll at least patch it up for me before we keep going on."

"I just hope when you break my nose that you'll at least patch it up for me before we keep going on."

Ignan tilted his head half in disapproval of the comment that he'd purposely injure Callum, and also in respectful agreement that he would patch up the young wizard.

"Spellwork around the set requirements for your OWLs will improve your casting overall, Callum - and makes you think. See it as something a little different to break up your weighty concerns of studies. Though, if there is something in particular troubling you about your examinations, then do speak up - only once I have demonstrated. Devinctus."

He spoke the spell aloud this time, better to demonstrate the tone. He hadn't meant it as strongly as he cast upon the substitute opponent, but hopefully his addition of it on the end of his sentence had still provided a little surprise to Callum as his knees made it to the floor. As a living, thinking being, he would be able to prevent himself tipping forwards so easily.

"There." Flicking his wand in the direction of Callum's own, he caught it in his hand, admiring the wood with curiousity before handing it back, and offering a hand to help Callum back to his feet.
"Possibly the mildest one could do without the spell failing completely." He muttered.

"So, Knight, the option is there, something a little new, or pose a OWL query at me, given your preoccupation with exams today." The corners of Ignan's mouth curled, not in a sinister manner, but in mischief, glad of a reason to practise such spells with someone, even if the recipient was clearly very concerned about his examinations (and rightly so, perhaps, though Ignan had more confidence in Callum than Callum appeared to have in himself).

Callum barely had time once the spell was demonstrated to react. He attempted to catch himself but failed- falling forward- hard, knees hitting the ground first before the rest of his body crumpled. At least he had not fallen face first as he had expected. He allowed the professor to help him up, and took his wand back with a slight nod before inspecting it for any obvious damage. Wands were tough, but a cracked one could be dangerous- and you never knew when that was going to happen.

"I think learning something new might be an interesting way to spend the day. It would be nice to have a break." He'd been studying a lot, and Callum figured that Storm could teach him some pretty interesting things. Especially since the spell he'd already demonstrated could be quite useful. "I don't think that I'm really struggling with my coursework. I can usually practice those things on my own time."

"I can imagine that would be really useful. Most witches or wizards would be too busy scrambling after their wand to pay you any attention, yeah?" he asked. "Already on the ground makes them weaker too." Very useful spell. Callum definitely needed to remember that one. Could be great for a fight or a duel. If he ever needed to do that again. It seemed his level of violence had drastically decreased lately. He had too much to focus on at the moment. Most of his aggressiveness was being taken out on the quidditch field. Now that he was captain he had more of a reason to spend time on the field.

"I think learning something new might be an interesting way to spend the day. It would be nice to have a break. I don't know that I'm really struggling with my coursework. I can usually practice those things on my own time."

"Good!" Ignan replied, pleased that Callum had finally agreed to his way of seeing things.

"I can imagine that would be really useful. Most witches or wizards would be too busy scrambling after their wand to pay you any attention, yeah? Already on the ground makes them weaker too."

"Correct. It disarms them without you needing to be distracted about catching their wand to contain it, and gives you the chance to deliver a second curse when they are completely undefined." The sack figure rose to its feet, and with a twitch of Ignan's wand, with the flash, its arm flailed, it fell to its knees, and with a step forward and a twist of the wand in the other direction - the head of the figure came clean off, sand seeping onto the floor.

"Well, clearly, not necessarily one to break their neck, unless you needed to…" He gave a shrug, "That is the disadvantage of going on instinct sometimes. Old habits die hard." He explained sheepishly, a little surprised at himself. Striding over to the pretend body, he patched it up as best he could.

Turning back to Callum, he raised an eyebrow.
"Impress me." He challenged the fifth year. "Verbal spells are fine, you aren't expected to do anything further for your OWLs." The Professor waved a hand to indicate not to worry so far.
"

Callum nodded. A second curse could prove useful Two right off the bat, take their wand while they were down. A good way to fight dirty. It was the way Callum usually fought (a definite contrast to his generally chivalrous behaviour).  He watched as the dummy rose again, and his eyes widened in surprise when its head came off. Callum chuckled awkwardly. "I hope that you don't attempt to practice that one on me," he joked.

But the idea that Ignan knew the kinds of spells that could break people's necks and rip their heads off was intriguing to say the very least. Callum couldn't imagine where a man got that kind of practice and knowledge. He wasn't sure that he wanted to know. Although Ignan was generally mild mannered (well, to an extent anyway), it somehow didn't genuinely surprise Callum that he would know these things. It was his job, the Slytherin reasoned, to be aware of such things if he was to instruct someone on how to defend themselves, but he had a feeling Ignan had some practice in the matter.

And then he was instructed to impress. Impress? That wasn't a very clear or direct order, and Callum was the sort who worked best with just that kind of order. His father was a very direct man. And Callum had been doing what he was told since he was a very young boy. Open ended demands were not very common.

"Impress you?" he repeated. Verbal spells? What other kind of spell was he supposed to do? Callum hadn't even begun to practice wordless magic. It was very advanced, far more advanced than fifth year- more advanced than most seventh years. You had to practice forever to do wordless or wandless magic. "How?" even as he asked the question, Callum was searching his brain for anything that might be considered impressive- but he wasn't really coming across any spells that stood out.

"Impress you?" Callum asked. "How?"

Ignan gave a slight sigh and lowered his chin, circling round behind Callum, and placing his fingertips lightly on the young man's shoulders, escorting him gently to stand before the inanimate victim. There were close enough for it to be a little unnerving at least for the student, if the mere contact of fingers on shoulders hadn't surprised him enough from a Professor whom very rarely touched another person.

"Imagine, if you will," Professor Storm spoke steadily from behind Callum on his left side,  "that thing is Schlagenweit, or Amherst, or whomever else could do with taking down a peg or two."

Ignan removed his fingertips from the younger man's shoulders.
"Recall the spell that Sasha used against you without thought of its true effects, his callous attitude? Recall my reaction to the two of you? I was half a second from knocking Schlagenweit to the floor and demonstrating his own spell and meaning it. Recall the terse words between us from the end of the lesson."

Ignan could feel the stress of remembering January the 8th edging into his voice. It had been a particularly bad day, where he'd yelled at Callum, and lost control of most of his lessons, and his temper, and tried to poison Chance, Fauna and Grace in some sadistic lesson on not fearing death, but fearing one's Professor instead. Idiot.

"Remember that strength of emotion, remember how you feel when Gryffindor are attempting to box in your chasers, and yell taunts on the quidditch field. Its not pleasant, but if you can throw that malice behind such spells, you become a formidable, and impressive opponent, and learn to control it all into releasing that force into spellwork."

Ignan had attended a number of the school quidditch matches since arriving at Hogwarts, and knew how Callum headed up the Slytherin team, a proud and motivated leader.

"Now," Ignan continued, raising his own wand arm above and beside Callum's, as he still stood behind the fifth year and pointed to the figure.
"Just try devinctus - don't worry about the end result." Sensing Callum was still very concerned about performing something fantastic first time, which his earlier throwaway comment about wanting to be impressed had clearly worsened, he added trivially,
"Merlin, you've become so wound up with examinations, this is the time where it doesn't matter!" He lowered his arm and took half a step backwards and to one side, so he didn't stand so close to Callum's wand arm.

Since Schlagenweit had been sent home, Callum hadn't been focusing on torturing Amherst. He'd had no reason to. Besides, Ferguson had been staying out of his way and he'd been distracting trying to prove his mettle to everyone. He couldn't keep the respect of his team or his house if he kept torturing one of their own. Callum knew that now. It was amazing how a few months of losing control made you realize things.

But even though Amherst might not deserve it, Schlagenweit did. That spell that he had used against Callum had been inexcusable. Dark magic. Dark magic that Storm had let him get away with. He still hadn't forgiven the professor for that day. Callum was not accustomed to being the one taken down a peg or two, and Sasha still had it coming. He still hadn't extracted his revenge. But he would, as soon as the opportunity presented itself to him upon Schlagenweit's inevitable return to Hogwarts the following term.

Storm was right though, exams didn't matter right now. This spell was likely the sort not to be tested on anyway. He gripped his wand tightly, staring at the dummy. Callum thought about Schlagenweit, and the others in his school who deserved to their comeuppance. Professor Austerlitz for insulting his family, Trishna for being such a muggle loving fool, Amherst for being dumb enough to throw away his purity and his heritage on a git like Schlagenweit.

It didn't stop there, though. The times his father told him he was a failure, and the way it made him feel- even when he was trying his hardest, damned determined to prove he was better than his brothers and the multitude of other Knight children in his expansive family. How angry he was that he was being forced into Imogen's life when he didn't care about her. That he had no freedom- and instead of fighting, he sat back and he took it- the way every proper pureblood son was apt to do.

He was born with a silver spoon in his mouth, but his life was far from perfect. He raised his hand, pointing his wand, knuckles white from his grip. Callum's fist was shaking as he tried to channel all of that emotion- the anger, the hurt, the confusion, the typical teenaged angst- into the spell.

"Devinctus!" he called out loudly, clearly. But his shaking fist caused his aim to fail, and the spell shot past the dummy, slamming into a wooden chest against the back wall with a loud crack- splinters flying as it split the wood in half. Callum immediately slumped, disappointed in his performance. He'd missed the dummy. He groaned loudly, bringing his hand up to cover his face.

"Excellent!" Professor Storm exclaimed without a beat, from behind and to the left of Callum.

"Now," he continued in his usual speaking tone, "just aim at the target."

He tried to keep a straight face, but a smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth. 

"I was aiming at the target," he stated. Callum looked at the splintered wood, feeling at least slightly more confident. Callum raised his wand again, and tried not to focus so much on his anger but more on the spell. His hand wasn't shaking this time, and when he fired off the spell the second time things went much better.

The spell hit the intended target- and it fell forward, knees thwacking the floor loudly then crumpling. Callum wondered if he had looked so helpless when he fell. After the dummy had fallen, he stepped forward, nudging it over with his foot. "I split its stomach open," he said to the professor, looking at the large rip in the fabric. "I don't think the spell was supposed to do that, was it?" Callum asked, looking at Storm. He wondered if perhaps he had mispronounced the incantation. Surely his wand wasn't just that strong.

"I know you were aiming for it Knight, don't blame me for humouring you." Ignan replied after Callum had successfully cast the spell upon the dummy.

"No, not quite." He agreed with Callum, peering down at the tear and poking it with his wand. "Then again, no great harm in it with a true foe, is there?" The Professor smirked. "The force behind your spell was admirable, but its putting in the control which will ensure the spell only manifests itself in disarming and falling." He turned his wand in his hand slowly, the sand returning to the body of the dummy, before running the tip of his wand down the tear, which sealed itself up. Within moments the figure was back on its feet.

"One way to safely practise that would be using light spells." He paused, the two of them still stood beside the dummy.
"Not the same malice, clearly, but one can still throw force behind them. It is the difference between throwing the spell to force light in any direction, a general direction and then a pinpointed beam of light." He gestured such with his hands and fingers, looking to Callum between for confirmation of understanding.

"One might use different spells to achieve the same effect, but with correct control, one can control blinding light spells to absolute direct columns of light at a source just by using the mind." He gestured for Callum to step back into the distant position again with him.

"Replace the spell with the light instead, same force, same malice - you'll see how you are directing spell in light." Raising his wand upwards to the ceiling, he turned his wrist in a simple rotation and the light in the room dimmed.