| Boulder in the river | |
|---|---|
| IC Date | May 00, 1935 |
| OOC Date | 01/08/2011 |
| Location | Hogwart's corridor |
| Cast | Quidne Michael |
| Description | Quidne gets some help between classes. |
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OOC — Sandbox — Hogwarts
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This sand castle recreation of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry is complete with every one of the towers from the owlery to the Gryffindor tower sculpted to the last loose stone. To represent the lake, the sea has been allowed to roll right up to the edge of a hand-patted embankment where a small boat house awaits first years. Beyond the towering doors of the great hall, a variety of classes await; charms, divination, care of magical creatures, history of magic, potions and of course, defense against the dark arts. To the northwest of the campus stand a handful of hastily scooped stands around an empty area, out of the sand project small hoops of twisted coat hangers-a small enchanted bead of gold flying loops around the mess. The main of the school is situated abutting a courtyard rimmed on all sides with columns and covered walk ways leading elsewhere, but chiefly to the front gates which are one of the few means of access onto the grounds. The ground's keepers house is located near the edge of a foreboding forest, its small thatched hut made out of collected dry grasses from a nearby field.
**
It's getting near the end of the term, only a couple of months to go before summer vacation begins. For some, there is the feeling of restlessness; spring fever. For others, there is a feeling of dread of returning home. No more whispers with others that 'understand', no more flying lessons, no more sneaking out to quidditch practices..
The halls are filled with noisy children, the larger lecture halls emptying out simply compounds. A couple voices rise in argument, or rather, discourse as to the subject matter recently discussed in class..
Through these halls, a robed Dr. Albert Michael Thompson files. He's dressed as one of the professors, though the markings on his particular robe identify him as a 'guest lecturer', the subtle sigals only caught in a certain direction at a certain time.. under certain conditions. Stepping to the side, he pushes up his ever falling metal-rimmed glasses and watches the progress of kids as they pass him by. The occasional do offer a nod of acknowledgment; he is, after all, something of a regular, his subject.. international wizard relations.
**
The eldest sibling of the eccentric Howell clan, Quidne is better known throughout the school for her exploding and roving works of art than her academic performance. Still, even artists have to go to class, and so the girl finds herself mixed in with her classmates as they shuffle out of one of the nearby classrooms. While the other students are noisy, Quidne is not - at least not for the moment. It seems the strange girl has become caught up with sketching something onto a piece of parchment. Using her textbook to give it some solidity, she's roughing in a new design that occurred to her in class. Of course, it's hard to sketch and walk, though she hardly seems to notice as she bounces off of other students like a Muggle bumper car. At least not until she gets jostled from behind, causing her book and parchment to slip from her grasp, skidding across the floor to end up somewhere near Michael, but loss to Quidne through the stampede of feet. Oblivious to the snarl she's causing in the flow of traffic, the teen drops to her hands and knees, trying to track it down and go after it.
**
It's always obvious when a rock is tossed into a stream; the water begins to part, and in some cases, yes, the stream slows as it attempts to go around the obstacle. Kids, however, aren't anywhere as forgiving, and pieces and parts are in danger of being kicked away, ruined..
Michael's watch of the flow of traffic, and the fact that he is somewhat taller than the average younger student at Hogwart's, allows for his notice of Quidne's distress. Even without the request for aid, Michael moves into the flow of traffic, helping in pretty much the only way that would be logical…
Taking out his wand, it's a quick swipe with the softly spoken, "Protego".. and a charm is cast. A small shield that begins to physically deflect the stream of students allows for a little more room for Quidne to move around to gather her things. The moment, of course, that Michael sees that the charm will, indeed, hold, he too begins to help gather the items that the girl has dropped.
"Is this one of yours?" He holds up a piece of parchment in question.
**
And Quidne seems just about as aware of her effects on the stream as a rock would be, but even she comes to notice when things suddenly get easier. She scoots forward a little more quickly and takes advantage of the lull to hitch her school bag up on her shoulder so that she doesn't lose that too. Michael earns her attention more quickly, though, when he comes up with the piece of parchment, since that's really what she was after more than anything. She only really snags her textbook as an afterthought, as she gets back to her feet, offering the visiting professor a thankful smile. "Yes, that's it. Thank you," she replies gratefully, as she reaches to take the sketch back. Though she doesn't seem too worried about him seeing the vaguely dog-shaped five-legged drawing with a lop-sided head. "Bit dangerous 'round these parts," she adds wryly with a glance at the swarm of students, slipping into the quieter spot beside him so that she can gather up her things and put them away.
**
"Great.." Michael takes a deep breath, and turns around to look at those that still move down the corridor. The wave is slowing up somewhat, which allows him to begin to drop the charm, closing the edges slowly.
He chuckles as he hands over the sheaf of paper, "It is dangerous if you don't keep your eyes open." Twisting around, he catches the movement over to his side, which allows him to drop the charm completely, and reaching out to guide the young student to the side of the path, he finishes, "Have everything?" A quick glance is given to the center of the hallway once more, but not really knowing what he's looking for, there's an uncertainty about the inquiry.
**
Quidne is guided easily enough, busy smoothing out the bit of parchment and trying to wipe off a footprint that wound up upon it. But then she eyes the footprint, giving it a critical look before shrugging her shoulders. Maybe she can work with that. It adds a certain something. She casts a quick glance back over her shoulder, before nodding. "I think so, sir. Everything important, anyway." Putting the parchment in between the pages of her text, she shoves them both away into her disorganized satchel. "Thanks again, Professor. I'd have been lost without it." She pats her bag protectively, before giving her side a little rub. Seems someone, whether accidentally or on purpose, managed to give her a little kick to the ribs before the helpful shield was in place.
**
Another push on his glasses to push them back into place is given before he nods slowly, his lips pressing in a tight smile. Michael gestures down the hall in the general direction that most have been travelling, "Good.. Aww.. that got stepped on.." The wand is replaced in a top, inside pocket in a quick, unconscious action— pure reflex.
He watches the rub, his brows creasing, "You okay?" Obviously she's not nursing cracked ribs because she doesn't look to him like she's about to pass out, so.. that's something. "C'mon.. I'm headed that direction." He smiles ever so slightly, "I can give you an escort if you need the infirmary?"
**
"Oh, I'll be fine," Quidne is quick to assure him. "My own fault really." She gives a little laugh to that, only a little bit sheepish about being foolish enough to get kicked. "But I guess it couldn't hurt to get it looked at, so I don't end up with a bruise." But her tone is such to suggest she's not exactly all that frail or unfamiliar with the occasional bumps and bruises. "Anyway, it's all right. The footprint gives me an idea." But she doesn't elaborate on that, instead just looking thoughtful for a moment again.
**
A couple of nods are given to the pair from a other passing students, but mostly they're given something of a wide berth. "The footprint gives you an idea?" Michael isn't the most artistic of people, so he's curious as the muse strikes another. "Okay.." He has an idea of the sort of things that he could use the picture for, but.. if he's not about to offer up suggestions.
Holding his hand out, his brows rise, "Mind if I see that?" He could do something nice for the student..
**
"The drawing? Sure," Quidne replies readily, digging it out of her bag so that she can hand it over. "Safer with you than with me, anyway." She gives a little grin with that, chuckling at her own expense. "It's not really finished yet though. I guess I should wait until I'm out of the hallway. Or at least until they're quieter." And at least she is capable of learning, even if it takes her awhile to realize the wisdom of this. "I'll need to wait until I can find some new supplies to make it, besides."
**
"More supplies?"
Michael looks at the picture, his head canting, and he looks pensive for a moment before he folds it, carefully outlining the drawing, and puts it in an inside pocket, very close to where his wand resides. "I'll give it back, I promise." Even now, he's thinking of different little things now. But first, something of an 'interview' should be done. "How are classes going for you? How many points have you won for the House?" Yes, not his, but still!
**
"Yes, if I want to turn it into a sculpture. But maybe it's better as a drawing, do you think?" Quidne's eyebrows raise a bit as she considers it. Hard to make a drawing blow up, but then they are easier to put up on the wall. She's slightly confused when he tucks it away, since she'd thought he only wanted to look at it, but when he promises to return it, she nods. "Oh, uh, well, classes are going all right. Charms and Transfiguration are going the best." She purses her lips thoughtfully, as she tries to think back on her points accumulation. "I've lost track, but I'm sure I've won more than I've lost, so that's good, right? Not everyone can say that."
**
"A sculpture?" Pulling the sheet out once more, the robed lecturer looks at the picture once more, a considering frown creasing his face before he exhales in a soft sigh. "Okay.. I suppose I should give this back now, then. I couldn't swear that I'd have returned it in the same shape as you'd given it to me anyway." Certainly not! It'd have been in a completely different shape. Form.
Michael smiles as the report is given; "Charms are usually strong points. Potions, not so much for some reason." A quiet 'o' rounds out as he looks down at the young student. "Transfiguration too? That one's a hard one." He crooks one hand into a claw, "You know you're good when you can just do one hand, or a finger.." Is it possible? Who knows! "Just think.. a monkey's paw to help peel a banana faster?"
He nods at the delicate balance of points as tracked, and he shakes his head slowly, "No, not everyone can say that. At the end of the term, I'd like you to send me an owl and let me know the balance, if you would, please?" If it looks good, he may yet do that which he's considering…
**
Again, he surprises Quidne as he now hands back the parchment, and she gives it a puzzled look, as she tries to figure out what he means. "Are you an artist too?" she guesses, looking up at him curiously. "You can have it, if you'd like. If it's given you some sort of inspiration…" While she was so keen to have it back before, she seems willing to pass it along now - so long as it isn't getting ruined or going to waste. "Potions is all right," she allows grudgingly, though it doesn't hold the same appeal. "Better than Arithmancy or History of Magic. I can't wrap my head around those." Also, they're boring, but she's not going to say that to a teacher. Her eyebrows go up when he speaks of Transfiguration, and then she gives a laugh. "I might have to try that one of these days. Be a neat trick." She considers his request then, and slowly gives a nod. "Yeah, all right. I'll see if I can work it out exactly."
**
"Artist? Me? Nah.." Michael shakes his head again and chuckles, his pace slow in the direction of the infirmary— just in case. "Wizard.. like you. Liked charms. Was a lot of fun and learned a lot. Guess it still is." His voice lowers conspiratorially, "I don't really need it now. I have a pretty good memory for details." He smiles tightly, though amusement can be discerned in the gleaming blue eyes. He's up to something, certainly. "Inspiration.. could call it that."
Looking forward, his hands move into his pockets, pushing the robes slightly out of the way so the muggle suit can be seen beneath. "Ah.. History of magic. I liked that one. Big on dates. 1684. 1793.. very important dates, those." The last time a witch was burned in the UK and the last time a witch was burned in Europe (Poland), repectively. "Then there are the practitioners.. never, ever re-invent the wheel.. ever." And there is the sage advice?
A genuine smile creases his face, and he reaches out to touch the girl's hand in reference to the attempts of transfiguration. "Make sure you have someone with you to help.. just in case."
**
"Yeah, Charms is definitely one of the best," Quidne agrees, nodding emphatically. His enigmatic response gets another lift of her eyebrows, but she nods agreeable and slips the drawing back into her bag. "Well, all right. If you're sure." She's curious now, to be certain, but she doesn't prod him for further details. The dates that he mentions are met somewhat blankly. They sound familiar, but Quidne's always got more attention on the here and now than on the past or future. "I will … try not to," she promises, of re-inventing the wheel, though she doesn't seem quite sure how to go about doing that anyway. She looks to her hand when he touches it and then gives a laugh. "I'll keep that in mind, yeah. Wouldn't want to get stuck with a paw. I don't think that would be easy to work with at all." Slowing to a halt by the infirmary, she gives it a thoughtful look. "Might as well get this looked at while I'm here. Thanks for making sure I got here safely."
**
Michael wiggles his fingers, "Opposable thumbs still, but yes.." He clucks softly and shakes his head, "It wouldn't work well."
One of many descriptors of Dr. Thompson is 'enigmatic'. Another would be 'mysterious', but not in a bad way. It is simply the way he works, so to speak. Ministry of Magic. Department of Mysteries.. it's his job to remain so, though Michael finds it easier to deflect rather than cast attention on himself. And thusly,
"That means, by the way, that you work with what you have and build from there. History of Magic gives you the background to build up. If whatever solution to a problem worked then, extrapolate and move forward. It's usually easier that way, and others around you will understand what you're doing immediately. If they're paying attention." A frown creases his face again and he shrugs, giving rise to one shoulder more than another, "Of course, whomever you're working against may know the same thing.. or, you can hope they don't." The last is added a little more brightly.
"Regardless.. I will leave you to it. Good day, and I will be expecting the owl." He puts up a finger in gesture before pushing up his glasses.. and tucking it back into his pocket. "Remember.."
Leaving her at the infirmary now, Michael turns and continues on his way.. or back on his way..