| Details for Quoth the Ravenclaw |
| Summary: | Andromena helps Edgar with his Transfiguration studies. |
| Date: | 1938-12-16 |
| Location: | Forest View Louvre |
| Related: | — |
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After dinner that evening, Andromena had retreated to this particular louvre. Why, when it was in such miserable repair and exceedingly cold was anyone's guess. She wore an extra shirt and kept her robes firmly wrapped around her slender being. Her scarf was very nearly pulled up and over her nose. If she had wanted solitude, there had been numerous warmer choices. Yet…she was here.
Tucked into a corner far from the nearest hole in the roof, the Ravenclaw has three books laying around her, all open. There's several sheets of parchment as well, upon one of which she is busily writing. Aside from the sound of the wind whistling, it is the scritch-scritching of her quill that might draw a curious ear of any passers-by.
While the Ravenclaw is writing, another quiet presence approaches. He has a book of Transfiguration in his left hand, which likely explains why he settles down not too far from Andromena, opens the book and starts reading it. A sidelong glance is given to the Ravenclaw, and a nod, but otherwise he is committed to reading — even if he has to cast his own lighting spells to facilitate reading — dark sight is something few naturally have, after all.
Andromena looks up as Edgar Carrow enters. 'Oh,' she thought. 'The Crow.' It was a moniker she herself was decidedly fond of, though since she had little dealings with the Slytherin in the past, Andromena had no way of knowing if he himself actually cared for it. Until such a time as she was for certain, the Ravenclaw would have to content herself to only referring to him as that mentally. After a moment her writing stops and Andromena turns her head his way.
"Evening, Carrow," a polite greeting. It would be rude to just note his presence with her eyes and then pretend as if he no longer existed, would it not? Her light had, admittedly, only been bright enough to be useful to her person and no one else. Andromena hadn't expected to have company! Alas, for now, nothing else is said. They're both…the silent types. In Andromena's case, she's just an introvert too nervous to assert herself around relative strangers.
"Good evening, Rowle," he replies the greeting in kind. Edgar would not be terribly surprised if that moniker, brand new as it is, was spread like wildfire after Goyle bestowed it upon him in his most recent outing to Hogsmeade. Not that this Carrow minded it much. He may have even liked it, in fact. The first few pages of the book are flipped and he settles into a chapter, studying it with that intense, analytical gaze of his. But only after he managed to provide for his own lighting — something that comes easily to someone who is an enthusiast of Charms.
"Huh." He says, perhaps an octave louder than intended, at something he reads. It seems to please him, though. Another page is flipped, and the intent studying ensues again. "I trust things are well?" It is an inquiry that almost sounds like a remark.
Crow was certainly better some of the nicknames Andromena has somehow become the owner of. Andromena had returned to her own work, able to study in comfortable silence. When Edgar remarked upon something which he read, however, Andromena was unable to prevent herself from looking up. Her expression was one of obvious curiosity, but she doesn't interrupt him. It's only when he questions her - and in a way that sounded…sounded so much more like a stating of fact than question - that Andromena finds it within herself to speak.
"They are indeed," answered plainly. The Ravenclaw has yet to determine if he's asking her because he felt like adhering to rote polite conversation or not. Andromena had no desire to babble about herself in any case. What would she say? 'Oh yes, Carrow. Life is splendid. Hey, have you ever had your…' Certainly not. Most certainly not.
"What lesson are you studying tonight?" Rather than return the favor and ask after his well-being and all that, Andromena searches for a more interesting common ground.
Depending on what 'your' might have meant, it would have been met with a laughter or a long, calculating stare. That sort of question, after all, can be tricky, depending on what the noun at the end is. "Transfiguration. I am having difficulty picture the spells, but it was never my strength. And then there is nonverbal casting, which I also desperately need to get better at. Duelling club duties and whatnot, you know," Edgar flips another page, narrows his gaze and nods slowly at what he reads.
Then his attention is upon Andromena. "With the NEWTs coming up next year, it would pay if I was prepared. After this it is likely I will begin placing my efforts into understanding Potions better."
There is every reason to believe that Edgar may have found cause to do both. Alas, it will forever remain a mystery! Andromena listens as Edgar explains himself, nodding once when he mentions non-verbal casting. It is a subject she was also seeking to improve, though not currently. The books carefully arranged around her person are a mixture of Defense Against the Dark Arts and Ancient Runes; the later being a considerable weak spot for the young woman, though thankfully it was only an elective, and not one of her NEWT courses.
"I see," said she in a thoughtful tone. Andromena had sat up on her knees to peer towards Edgar's book, lips pursing together. "I would offer to help, but I am sure there are other students that are better suited to the task of tutoring than I. Still…" A slight pause as Andromena pushes a lock of hair behind an ear. "If you ever have any questions, I'll help if I can."
A shame, for one, that sort of question might have been funny to reminisce at a later time. Perhaps not for Edgar, as it is. The poor kid. When she offers to help, Carrow looks at Andromena for a long time before approaching with his book, the lighting to trail after him. It is set on the ground near the reading conveniences of both, and he points to the chapter about exterior changes.
"Dark Defense," he identifies one of her reads following a cursory glance to where she places her books. "And Ancient Runes? I took that as an elective."
Oh, he might have had something to reminisce about, surely. Andromena meets Edgar's gaze squarely. It's one of the few moments in her life where she has been able to do so and her first instinct was not to blush and look away. It was direct, and it was unafraid. When Edgar begins to approach her, Andromena lets her eyes trail away, to the book when he settles it upon the ground. A brief once-over of the chapter title and a few lines beyond that before her attention is called back to her own things.
"Hm? Oh, yes. As have I," her answer was vaguely distracted. From sharing classes with Edgar, Andromena knew he was far better than she at DADA; like another Slytherin of their year. "I suppose I should begin by asking just what, specifically, is causing you grief?" The Ravenclaw leaned forward slightly to better read the rest of what was on the page. The pair of them undoubtedly looked somewhat spooky, bathed in the combined blue glow of their light spells, surrounded by gloom. Half of Andromena's face was lost in black shadow.
He's fine with the chiaroscuro scene that's unfolding, even if he has to rely on the warmth of his robes to remain in some manner of warmth and not shiver to death. And perhaps because Andromena is challenging him with the direct stare right into his eyes, he returns the gaze. Even if he might still feel shy about this sort of eye contact. In some ways she might be taking his measure, figuring out who he is, so he plays along. Then, finally, on to business, and he doesn't waver when making a response.
Perhaps because he knows she dates a well-regarded fellow Slytherin, and that any show of weakness would not reflect very well on his standing with his House. Or simply because he is in a strange mindset tonight. "I am trying to cast the Transfiguration spells with a very clear image of what I want to happen in mind, but somewhere in the process I am failing to do so efficiently, which makes my casting clumsy, slow, and with unintended consequences at times. The basics, I am more than used to. It is when we get into the complexities of the discipline that it falls apart."
Thankfully for the pair of them, they were now seated somewhat close together so at least their is also shared warmth. Why Andromena has twice today chosen to freeze herself half to death is truly a puzzling question. Like a cat, she typically preferred to be warm and comfortable! The young woman remains silent for the time being, letting herself stew in contemplation over Edgar's admission. Had she been taking his measure? Perhaps subconsciously. It was because of Black that Andromena was now more willing to maintain eye contact. The amusing truth was she believed Edgar had been trying to get her measure, and Andromena refused to allow him to walk away thinking that she was weak. The things people feel the need to prove.
"I see," said again as she bit at her lower lip, attempting to devise a sufficient explanation for her fellow sixth year. "So, to be sure, you begin to cast, and in your head you envision what it is you want to happen? If so, I would suggest something similar, but more along the lines of…" Her hand flitted about in the air for a moment as she fished for the words she wanted. "Simply willing it. Simply desiring it. Cast away the mental image. Does that make sense?"
"That is what I was doing," Edgar confirms without a hint of shame or self-deprecation. Studying is, after all, tossing that which doesn't work and trying to learn and adapt a method that will get you ahead. "I will try as you say. It might be a method superior to those used in the simpler spells, for one. Harder to accomplish, perhaps, but that is not a real issue." He unsheathes his wand, produces some marbles from his pockets (not for fun, but for practice), and lets them roll across the hallway before they stop with a soft scraping sound. "To enlarge those objects, then, I only have to will them into becoming bigger?"
"Yes," she told him. "Magic, or so I feel, stems strongly from the will of its caster. You are implementing your will upon something else. Be that an inanimate object or something else. After desire it's a simple matter of saying the words correctly." But as she had told another, pick up Latin, and you're likely to do just fine.
"So while I don't disagree with learning the theory and mechanics behind all good spellcraft, one can understand a theory all day long and never cast a proper Charm if one lacks inner-fortitude." Which, to put it bluntly, meant Andromena saw others as weak and inept both as wizards and just in general if they consistently failed in their magic.
"I do not disagree it is about will. I am quite good at Charms and DADA because I grasp the concept of intent shaping the magic, in fact," Edgar doesn't apologize for this fact; he is good at those two subjects, perhaps not as good as his current studying companion, but good nevertheless. "But to transform, you must turn something into something else. Which is a different mindset than 'I will bind your legs' or, 'I will disarm you.'" And indeed, knowing Latin goes a long way towards speaking the magic words effectively. Knowing the language is knowing the names. And names have Power.
He won't talk about the party. Instead, he closes the book after that lesson is imparted and he sighs. "You know, I hadn't known this was your quiet place. I apologize for intruding."
Andromena nods, glad he sees where she's coming from. However, she still feels it applies just as readily to Transfiguration as the other two subjects. Maybe her mind is just a little more fluid in that regard, or maybe she's just not the best teaching! Many people lacked that special quality, after all.
"I understand what you mean, but I would advise still trying to apply that same mindset." She pointed to the marbles, her wand suddenly in hand. "Marbles. Potatoes. I want them to be potatoes." A definitive jab with her wand as she speaks the proper incantation. And…pop! Marbletatoes.
"For me, if I focus on how I want the object to look, I only distract myself with details that my subconscious will otherwise bring into being." As for the party? Well…Andromena won't bring it up, either, because she's unsure there socially. But the man was getting an invite.
In her exuberance with trying to help, Andromena almost missed his apology. She waved it off as negligent. "Not exactly my favored spot. I prefer the lakeview, but there were these awful Snifflepuffs snogging away when I'd initially gone in. I'll bet their crying over their tender mercies even now." A scoff, complimented with an eyeroll. "Even so, Carrow, you're not unwelcome company."
"Allow me to try." Edgar unsheathes his wand, closes his eyes briefly, then points it at the potato-marble. "Reducio," no picturing, no hesitations. Just to see how well he has grasped the Direct Method of Spellcasting.
The potato shrinks to a smaller size, and he smiles again. It works! The wand is sheathed, the flip of his robe concealing it out of sight. "If those guardians wouldn't hurt people who practiced in the gallery, I would consider it one of the quietest places to do so. Unwise, perhaps. Are you in the Duelling Club?"
He chimes in after a brief pause. "You're not unwelcome company either, Rowle. Quiet people make for the best study partners sometimes. Perhaps we can do this more often, research ancient runes or something like that. I highly suspect you are a much better student than me, though."
Andromena beams at Edgar, pleased not only that he succeeded, but that she wasn't just spouting a load of useless jibberish. Her own wand had been returned as well, even if she rather did enjoy having it out and at the ready.
"I enjoy the gallery," said as a casual off-hand remark. Her eyes slid back towards Edgar and there was a subtle nod. "Lots of people feel a need to fill the silence with words. I'd be glad to study with you again in the future." Andromena let loose a little chuckle. "That may be, but you've got me beat in Dark Defense. And ah…no. I am not in the Duelling Club. I avoid violence, you see." Her voice sounded almost ashamed.
"Dedicated to something else, then?" Edgar inquires politely, apparently not finding it outrageous that someone would refrain from violence. To each their strengths, and all that. "Still, if you ever feel the need to visit, even if just to watch and do whatever, like side comments from the bench or something, you're welcome to come along with me." He looks as though he's about to make a question, but it's lost on him as he flips another page of his book. "You know, I wonder if it's against the rules in the School if we cast a Quietus charms to filter the voices that are too loud or we don't want to hear when studying."
"I intend to become a Healer," Andromena shares with Edgar. "There are enough people in the world that my non-practice shouldn't upset the natural order." A laugh, pleasant, but brief. The Ravenclaw considers his offer to come watch from the stands rather seriously, and in so doing, she inadvertently begins to watch him - it's clear she's seeing through him rather than staring at him.
"That would be nice," she admits. "And you mean…it may not be allowed?" Andromena blinked, seeming to come to. "Ugh. I've cast it," her voice lowered. "A few times, anyway. Sometimes there is no where to go to be alone."
He is used to being scrutinized in this way. There are no ulterior motives for it, save that it seems to be a somewhat handy idea to have someone not involved in a clash of egos to attend a few meetings. Better so, if… "A Healer? Then I extend this invitation threefold. That means we can get a bit more intense with the training, so long as we have a talented person to keep us from bleeding to death or other more hilarious incidents." Edgar replies, with a faint shrug. "I suppose it depends on the context of where you're casting it. Maybe not a public hallway, but a place like this? Might just work."
"O-oh! That reminds me," Andromena began, somewhat excitedly. Somehow, the prospect of being on hand to help with any potential injuries does not cause her any problems. The Ravenclaw is reconciled with the nature of violence at large, you see. "I'll be volunteering my time in the infirmary soon, and I hope to pick up some useful skills. So, yes…yes. I think that would work out nicely." A further chance for her to practice, which was always welcome.
"I suppose it's a little along the lines of: what they don't know won't dock us points?" So helpfully suggested. "I've used in less heavily trafficked areas myself." Exactly like Edgar pointed out, a place like this would probably do just fine. "Are you particularly bothered by noisy students?" As in, did they manage to find him often not…did noise distract him utterly.
"I… uh," yeah, that was misconstrued. "No, not really. I suppose there is always a right way of noisy. And then there's annoying. When it's the annoying is that I suppose that I, uh, find undesirable." Edgar clearly struggles to understand that question, and now he's a bit embarassed. "I am sure my preferences on quiet or non-quiet will depend on the situation, though."
"Not how I meant it," Andromena offers, noting his struggle to answer her in a peaceable manner. Her own tone is light. "I meant…as you just sit down to read, find yourself comfortable, in just that moment are you usually bombarded by others seeking to pester you? Sorry I was not more clear. I," and her hand rose in a dainty fashion to her chest, fingers arching slightly down from her collarbone. "Usually do not have such a problem. Most of the time I'm passed by, unless I'm with Alphard. And everybody flocks to him." And from the sound of it, Andromena found it tiresome.
"People don't find me that much … magnetic to speak to and bother most of the time. But then I might be reading a treatise on the exploits of Merlin, and this real loud Hufflepuff who looks a year too young to drink comes by and asks for 'direcshuns' to their tower." Edgar shakes his head disapprovingly at that. He notes her gesture, then nods once. "Considering how prominent the Black family is, and the fame Black has in the school, it is to be expected."
"You know, I used to think that guy was just cursed with a terrible lisp," Andromena shared with Edgar, not caring how oblivious it made her appear. She rarely indulged in alcohol. The few times she had were…well, they were mixed memories, in every aspect of the word. Shortly after that, however, Andromena too, wrinkles her nose in a disapproving manner.
"Speaking of," may as well broach the subject. "If you've not received your invitation to his party yet…sorry about that." Andromena begins to close her books, and stack them neatly. "Ah, but…if you have - then ignore what I've said!"
"I understand. It will come, if Mr. Black wants me in the party anyway, though I make sure not to offend anyone in Slytherin for exactly that reason." Edgar replies with a grin. "And don't worry, if I have, I'll forget it was mentioned." He winks at that, then collects his own books, moving to stand up. "The best cure for our lispy friend is a trip to the infirmary. Say he got stung or something."
Andromena follows suit, getting to her feet and clutching her load of books as best as she is able. Offering Edgar a grin she says, "There's no reason to believe Alphard wouldn't invite you." He had all the qualifications, did he not? Wealth, good blood, and was a member of Slytherin to boot. Andromena assumed that because she had never heard Alphard speak badly if him, they were on good terms.
"And as for Drunkenpuff?" Her grin became sly, just going to show that maybe there was at least some truth to Alphard dreadful nickname for her. "I'm sure if even one professor ever actually caught his scent, they'd have just the cure for him." No need for stings - unless Edgar was hinting at something even darker than she! It was possible.
"I'll walk with you part of the ways back, if you're returning to your Common Room," offered companionably. Crows and Ravens got along, did they not? Even if, technically the Ravenclaw symbol was an eagle.