hogwarts subjects h-t
herbology
What comes to mind when you hear about "herbology"? If you don't flat out say plants, you're either a nerd or a dirty liar but I'm not sure I'm allowed to call you either in print so let's see if Trent edits this out. Annnyyyywaaayyyy, it is about plants and if you show up to those mandatory (it's a core subject and your Heads of Houses will not let you forget it if you skip) lessons, Professor Sutton will instruct you in the finer arts and inner workings of....plants. I had a sit down with the top Herbology student, which my friend Kaiser totally is as of this interview and no one should double check that. If we can roll with it, so can you. Enjoy!
Hey mate, wanted to talk to you—but I had this interview thing to do with this other bloke—then I decided I’d just let you have the questions since I ran into you. I’m sure it won’t make much difference. Let’s go, we can grab lunch after. Tell me what you think of Herbology. Do you even like plants?
Uh, I see. Happy to help. Well... I would give Herbology a solid 'okay'. The only plants I am interested in are the ones I can climb. Trees. Or giant beanstalks, but I have not found many of those at Hogwarts. Or anywhere, actually. But yes, actual Herbology lessons are okay, because doing practical work is much better than sitting and taking notes or writing essays. Although, sometimes Herbology does mean taking notes and writing essays, but let's not talk about that right now.
Flesh eaters or venomous plants, and why?
Venomous plants. They are generally much more subtle, and I can appreciate that. Flesh eaters are a bit too Gryffindor for me. Uh... no offence.
If Herbology wasn’t a core for the first couple years, would you take it or is it something you’d drop like a hot, molten piece of dragon dung?
Even though I prefer the practical classes, I am actually hopeless at working with plants and everything I touch dies. I can also never remember even half of the names of the plants we work with. With that in mind, I am going to have to go with 'hot, molten piece of dragon dung'.
What’s one thing you think people don’t really “get” about Herbology?
Is there... is there anything to 'get'? I... did not realise. Well. This is awkward. Can you not make something up for me? Try and make me sound smart. Thanks, mate.
Being a top Herbology student—oh wait this was definitely the other guy. You know what? They don’t have to know it’s not you. Just roll with it. Being the top Herbology student, what tips would you like to give to your peers?
Well, as top Herbology student, which I definitely am, my biggest tip is to try not to kill anything; that would certainly be detrimental to the plants you work with. Also, weeds are... bad. Probably. Deal with those. And, lastly: if a plant looks like it cannot kill you, it probably can.
Hey mate, wanted to talk to you—but I had this interview thing to do with this other bloke—then I decided I’d just let you have the questions since I ran into you. I’m sure it won’t make much difference. Let’s go, we can grab lunch after. Tell me what you think of Herbology. Do you even like plants?
Uh, I see. Happy to help. Well... I would give Herbology a solid 'okay'. The only plants I am interested in are the ones I can climb. Trees. Or giant beanstalks, but I have not found many of those at Hogwarts. Or anywhere, actually. But yes, actual Herbology lessons are okay, because doing practical work is much better than sitting and taking notes or writing essays. Although, sometimes Herbology does mean taking notes and writing essays, but let's not talk about that right now.
Flesh eaters or venomous plants, and why?
Venomous plants. They are generally much more subtle, and I can appreciate that. Flesh eaters are a bit too Gryffindor for me. Uh... no offence.
If Herbology wasn’t a core for the first couple years, would you take it or is it something you’d drop like a hot, molten piece of dragon dung?
Even though I prefer the practical classes, I am actually hopeless at working with plants and everything I touch dies. I can also never remember even half of the names of the plants we work with. With that in mind, I am going to have to go with 'hot, molten piece of dragon dung'.
What’s one thing you think people don’t really “get” about Herbology?
Is there... is there anything to 'get'? I... did not realise. Well. This is awkward. Can you not make something up for me? Try and make me sound smart. Thanks, mate.
Being a top Herbology student—oh wait this was definitely the other guy. You know what? They don’t have to know it’s not you. Just roll with it. Being the top Herbology student, what tips would you like to give to your peers?
Well, as top Herbology student, which I definitely am, my biggest tip is to try not to kill anything; that would certainly be detrimental to the plants you work with. Also, weeds are... bad. Probably. Deal with those. And, lastly: if a plant looks like it cannot kill you, it probably can.
history of magic
Professor Alice O'Hara is the no-nonsense history buff whose passion for the past helps try and mold the young minds of the future. Her lessons this term were both interesting and hands-on, inviting students to attend a Death Day party one day, and pull a magical sword from a stone the next. In this interview, Professor O'Hara spills the proverbial tea on all things history and Hogwarts in that straight forward, honest to a fault way we've come to know.
Hello, professor, Thanks for answering some questions for us. For a lot of students, History of Magic is a hard subject to sit through. Why do you think it's so important for students to learn about the past?
History of Magic is indeed one of those subjects that students get bored with. That's unfortunate, as it is really a fascinating subject. Even setting aside the interest that one might get from learning about all the political intrigue and tales of heroism and villainy that can be found in our history (and, really, why would you set that aside?), you can still learn valuable lessons about human nature (and goblin, elf, centaur, etc.) that can help you to avoid making the same mistakes of the past; or, conversely - to be inspired by the activists, leaders, and thinkers who have enriched our culture and way of life through their lifework. I do hope that my wording didn't bore any of you.
Some would say you disagreed on how the mutant situation was handled a while back, and weren't shy about expressing your feelings on the subject. With that in mind, how do you feel this whole mist situation has been handled?
Some would be correct. I did, and still do, strongly disagree with how the mutant crisis was handled. Not that I think we handled it incorrectly once the problem had been identified (everyone did a good job capturing the creatures.) My disagreement was in the idea that my superior forbid us from even harming the creatures - despite their murdering one of my colleagues. I even asked if I could use deadly force to defend myself (and confessed that my magic was weak) and was sharply rebuked for not being as good with a wand as I should have been. Let me be very clear: I will never hesitate to use deadly force if I need to in order to defend my life or the lives of people I care about. I don't care if the person I am harming is a human or goblin. And I value the lives of humans and goblins far above the lives of non-sentient monsters.
Oh, but we got off topic. My apologies. So about this term. Right. Well, let me just say that I would never be able to give you the answer I am about to give if I was coming back next term. I am informed that my contract at Hogwarts has expired, therefore I will speak freely. This term has proven that Malachi (who will from henceforth be described as He Who Must Not Be Headmaster) is one of the most incompetent fools that I have ever come across. It is my great displeasure that I have had to pretend to submit to him for so long, and the only bright spot in my termination is that I won't have to put up with him any longer. Why didn't we evacuate the school when the fog reached the lake? I almost died from a concussion during that incident, and several students almost died. The fog showed no signs of slowing down. Why didn't we leave then? Malachi's lack of common sense led directly to the tragic death of two students. So now you would have thought that the deaths of two students would have made this man do two things:
1. Announce an IMMEDIATE evacuation of the school through Floo powder or other means.
2. Resign in shame.
Did He Who Must Not Remain Headmaster do these things? No. Instead, he chided me for suggesting we should leave, and my colleagues shouted insults at me for DARING to contradict He Who Should Never Be Headmaster in public. Even a professor with whom I had gotten along with (Professor Stewart) glared at me, as if I were in the wrong. Needless to say, my respect for all of them plummeted. Don't even started on Cornish, who accused me of frightening the students for "my weird pleasure." We evacuated at the last minute, and I never got an apology from any of them. Instead, I was fired by He Who Should Resign His Position for not being able to conjure magic as well as I should have. All of this has thrown into sharp relief the fact that none of my colleagues are people who I would want teaching my children, if I had any. Who knows how the children will suffer due to staff incompetence next term?
One of your lessons this term had students attending a Death Day Party. Have you always had a close relationship with the ghosts of Hogwarts?
I didn't have much of a relationship to the ghosts of Hogwarts until this most recent term. Death Day parties are actually rather fun. The ghosts are one of the only two things I will miss about Hogwarts. Then again, I suppose Hogwarts is gone for now?
The King Arthur lesson was a cool change of pace. What gave you the idea to focus on him?
Well, I am a fan of his ally Merlin. I also have a great affinity for magical swords. When I was a child, I wanted to be in Gryffindor so badly, just so I could maybe be worthy of touching the sword that my ancestors built (I'm half-goblin.)Even after being sorted into Ravenclaw, I tried being brave so the Hat would change its mind. My dreams were dashed, of course, but I guess in the back of my head there was always a desire to give all the students little swords. I would have liked having a little sword when I was a student. The students liked that lesson.
Any hints on what subject matter students might be exposed to next term?
Well, I won't be back, but I'm sure my replacement will give you whatever kind of lesson He Who Should Have Been Ashamed will require of them. I really do wish all you students the best for next term when I will no longer be with you. I especially wish the best for my favorite student. (I'm sorry if I hurt anyone's feelings, but deep down, all teachers have a favorite student) I will miss her. I can't say who she is, because I am afraid she might be picked on by those who didn't like me, but she knows who she is. Namaste.
Hello, professor, Thanks for answering some questions for us. For a lot of students, History of Magic is a hard subject to sit through. Why do you think it's so important for students to learn about the past?
History of Magic is indeed one of those subjects that students get bored with. That's unfortunate, as it is really a fascinating subject. Even setting aside the interest that one might get from learning about all the political intrigue and tales of heroism and villainy that can be found in our history (and, really, why would you set that aside?), you can still learn valuable lessons about human nature (and goblin, elf, centaur, etc.) that can help you to avoid making the same mistakes of the past; or, conversely - to be inspired by the activists, leaders, and thinkers who have enriched our culture and way of life through their lifework. I do hope that my wording didn't bore any of you.
Some would say you disagreed on how the mutant situation was handled a while back, and weren't shy about expressing your feelings on the subject. With that in mind, how do you feel this whole mist situation has been handled?
Some would be correct. I did, and still do, strongly disagree with how the mutant crisis was handled. Not that I think we handled it incorrectly once the problem had been identified (everyone did a good job capturing the creatures.) My disagreement was in the idea that my superior forbid us from even harming the creatures - despite their murdering one of my colleagues. I even asked if I could use deadly force to defend myself (and confessed that my magic was weak) and was sharply rebuked for not being as good with a wand as I should have been. Let me be very clear: I will never hesitate to use deadly force if I need to in order to defend my life or the lives of people I care about. I don't care if the person I am harming is a human or goblin. And I value the lives of humans and goblins far above the lives of non-sentient monsters.
Oh, but we got off topic. My apologies. So about this term. Right. Well, let me just say that I would never be able to give you the answer I am about to give if I was coming back next term. I am informed that my contract at Hogwarts has expired, therefore I will speak freely. This term has proven that Malachi (who will from henceforth be described as He Who Must Not Be Headmaster) is one of the most incompetent fools that I have ever come across. It is my great displeasure that I have had to pretend to submit to him for so long, and the only bright spot in my termination is that I won't have to put up with him any longer. Why didn't we evacuate the school when the fog reached the lake? I almost died from a concussion during that incident, and several students almost died. The fog showed no signs of slowing down. Why didn't we leave then? Malachi's lack of common sense led directly to the tragic death of two students. So now you would have thought that the deaths of two students would have made this man do two things:
1. Announce an IMMEDIATE evacuation of the school through Floo powder or other means.
2. Resign in shame.
Did He Who Must Not Remain Headmaster do these things? No. Instead, he chided me for suggesting we should leave, and my colleagues shouted insults at me for DARING to contradict He Who Should Never Be Headmaster in public. Even a professor with whom I had gotten along with (Professor Stewart) glared at me, as if I were in the wrong. Needless to say, my respect for all of them plummeted. Don't even started on Cornish, who accused me of frightening the students for "my weird pleasure." We evacuated at the last minute, and I never got an apology from any of them. Instead, I was fired by He Who Should Resign His Position for not being able to conjure magic as well as I should have. All of this has thrown into sharp relief the fact that none of my colleagues are people who I would want teaching my children, if I had any. Who knows how the children will suffer due to staff incompetence next term?
One of your lessons this term had students attending a Death Day Party. Have you always had a close relationship with the ghosts of Hogwarts?
I didn't have much of a relationship to the ghosts of Hogwarts until this most recent term. Death Day parties are actually rather fun. The ghosts are one of the only two things I will miss about Hogwarts. Then again, I suppose Hogwarts is gone for now?
The King Arthur lesson was a cool change of pace. What gave you the idea to focus on him?
Well, I am a fan of his ally Merlin. I also have a great affinity for magical swords. When I was a child, I wanted to be in Gryffindor so badly, just so I could maybe be worthy of touching the sword that my ancestors built (I'm half-goblin.)Even after being sorted into Ravenclaw, I tried being brave so the Hat would change its mind. My dreams were dashed, of course, but I guess in the back of my head there was always a desire to give all the students little swords. I would have liked having a little sword when I was a student. The students liked that lesson.
Any hints on what subject matter students might be exposed to next term?
Well, I won't be back, but I'm sure my replacement will give you whatever kind of lesson He Who Should Have Been Ashamed will require of them. I really do wish all you students the best for next term when I will no longer be with you. I especially wish the best for my favorite student. (I'm sorry if I hurt anyone's feelings, but deep down, all teachers have a favorite student) I will miss her. I can't say who she is, because I am afraid she might be picked on by those who didn't like me, but she knows who she is. Namaste.
muggle studies
Muggle Studies has never REALLY been one of those glamorous subjects where you brandish your wand and yell spells at the top of your lungs, nor has it ever been that subject you bottle fame and brew death in a vial but that doesn't make it any less important to some...some students out there in the castle. At the very least, it's important to our departing Professor Stewart so who better to give a little insight into the subject than the woman herself? Having made what I'm assuming is the most difficult decision ever--leaving Hogwarts--it seemed only right to have the subject described in her own words this issue. This is what she had to say:
Hey, Professor! Know you’re already on your way out but I gotta ask you stuff for the yearbook. PROMISE this won’t take long. SO. First question. Why in Merlin’s soggy beard would you choose muggle studies of all the subjects to be an expert at?
Oh, hello! That's easy: I was simply fascinated, as a little girl, to learn about my Muggle heritage from a witch's point of view. In turn, I wanted to share that with those that I could.
Do you spend all your free vacation time around muggles? Is that how you like your life? Without magic? Is it ‘cause you’re BAD at magic??
I do not, actually. I balance my time between the wizarding and mundane world. I certainly am not bad at magic. If anything, my spellwork has advanced. You're never too old to learn, you know.
What sort of impact do you hope your subject will have on the students here at Hogwarts?
When I began teaching here, it was my hope that the student population would have a greater appreciation for Muggles and their lives without magic to assist them in everyday activities. Even though I have resigned, this hope will not change.
If you could pick just one topic to be your favourite to teach within the subject, what would it be?
That would definitely be any of the sport- related topics. I especially enjoyed cricket and football.
Who is your greatest muggle influence?
My mother. She has and always will be.
Hey, Professor! Know you’re already on your way out but I gotta ask you stuff for the yearbook. PROMISE this won’t take long. SO. First question. Why in Merlin’s soggy beard would you choose muggle studies of all the subjects to be an expert at?
Oh, hello! That's easy: I was simply fascinated, as a little girl, to learn about my Muggle heritage from a witch's point of view. In turn, I wanted to share that with those that I could.
Do you spend all your free vacation time around muggles? Is that how you like your life? Without magic? Is it ‘cause you’re BAD at magic??
I do not, actually. I balance my time between the wizarding and mundane world. I certainly am not bad at magic. If anything, my spellwork has advanced. You're never too old to learn, you know.
What sort of impact do you hope your subject will have on the students here at Hogwarts?
When I began teaching here, it was my hope that the student population would have a greater appreciation for Muggles and their lives without magic to assist them in everyday activities. Even though I have resigned, this hope will not change.
If you could pick just one topic to be your favourite to teach within the subject, what would it be?
That would definitely be any of the sport- related topics. I especially enjoyed cricket and football.
Who is your greatest muggle influence?
My mother. She has and always will be.
potions
Professor Noble has held the post of Potions master for five terms now. Five! An absolute feat considering how wild these past terms have been, including the recently concluded one too. He mostly comes off as pretty intimidating, and I’m fairly certain he’s mastered not only the science of Potion-making but also the art of the resting boss face. Personally, one of my graduating wishes is that someone gets Professor Noble to smile.
We’ve had coolio lessons with the Potion master this term. I dunno about you (but I’m feeling 22 even though I’m only 18 but please appreciate the lyrics) but that lesson on the Oculus Potion really stuck to me. It was after our holiday break when we had that lesson, and I remember how Professor Noble wanted all of us to hurry up so we could keep the warmth within the classroom. The dungeons? Beneath the Great Lake? On snowy January? A horned slug can bite but the cold bites harder. We were first posed with the question about eye ailments and, quite frankly, I didn’t know a lot about most of the answers given in class. One would associate eye problems with eye diseases, which Professor Noble cleverly worded in his first question, and I could definitely say that it was eye-opening. Geddit? There were mentions of colour-blindedness (boy Dakest), cataracts (Kamryn Keighley, we miss you so so so much), and even near or farsightedness (boy McCarthy). Apparently, poor little creatures can get affected by such eye problems too like kneazles (not just furballs), acromantulas, and dragons! Dragons aren’t little creatures though. They’re big and wild and—okay, moving on. Because discussing these eye ailments wasn’t enough, we had to wear these charmed goggle thingies that made the wearer practically blind and useless. Consider yourselves lucky, kids, nobody made an explosion! But hey, we not only learned how to counter the conjuctivitis curse, but apparently the bluish solution we created during the blind-but-not-really activity made excellent face masks. Who knew our Potions master was quite the skin care guru? We stan!
But wait. There’s more.
“Butt. Floor. Now?” I’ve got to give it to Professor Noble for this line. If only he weren’t so serious when he’d told boy McCarthy, Drewie, and Dorian off, I would have laughed. When the mist arrived and took away the lower floors—dungeons included—changes were made and class venues had to be adjusted. Surprise! We held Potions classes in the duelling arena, which was converted into a room that, y’know, works. Unfortunately had to compromise the seats, though. In that lesson, Professor Noble raised the thousand-galleon question: “What different ways are there of fastening or attaching things to something else?” Answers ranged from charms to potions to muggle means of sticking objects together. Next thing I knew it, we were identifying adhesives inside cauldrons and using them to mend broken plates, to hang picture frames, and to reattach pages in a book. We got to choose between muggle PVA glue, the basic sticking solution, spellotape, StuckOnGlu, and the gripping solution. All I’m saying is...when in doubt, Spellotape it out. (Don’t tell Professor Noble I said that.) Except let’s be honest, though, the REAL fun was getting to rock climb as an optional activity, with the use of socks and gloves treated with the gripping solution. The activity, I believe, shouldn’t have been made optional because come on, you guys. Professor Noble also said that the Gripping Solution is sometimes referred to as the Spiderman Potion—and NO, you don’t shoot webs out of your hands. Peter Parker, who?
Despite the unforeseen misty circumstances, all was well in Potions class. A lot of us were angsty little hellions from the lack of sunshine and the crazy sleeping arrangements, but one thing never changes. Professor Noble is still the ultimate resting boss face. Professor Noble remains consistent with his unimpressed brow furrow, and Professor Noble knows how to make face masks. Be like Professor Noble.
We’ve had coolio lessons with the Potion master this term. I dunno about you (but I’m feeling 22 even though I’m only 18 but please appreciate the lyrics) but that lesson on the Oculus Potion really stuck to me. It was after our holiday break when we had that lesson, and I remember how Professor Noble wanted all of us to hurry up so we could keep the warmth within the classroom. The dungeons? Beneath the Great Lake? On snowy January? A horned slug can bite but the cold bites harder. We were first posed with the question about eye ailments and, quite frankly, I didn’t know a lot about most of the answers given in class. One would associate eye problems with eye diseases, which Professor Noble cleverly worded in his first question, and I could definitely say that it was eye-opening. Geddit? There were mentions of colour-blindedness (boy Dakest), cataracts (Kamryn Keighley, we miss you so so so much), and even near or farsightedness (boy McCarthy). Apparently, poor little creatures can get affected by such eye problems too like kneazles (not just furballs), acromantulas, and dragons! Dragons aren’t little creatures though. They’re big and wild and—okay, moving on. Because discussing these eye ailments wasn’t enough, we had to wear these charmed goggle thingies that made the wearer practically blind and useless. Consider yourselves lucky, kids, nobody made an explosion! But hey, we not only learned how to counter the conjuctivitis curse, but apparently the bluish solution we created during the blind-but-not-really activity made excellent face masks. Who knew our Potions master was quite the skin care guru? We stan!
But wait. There’s more.
“Butt. Floor. Now?” I’ve got to give it to Professor Noble for this line. If only he weren’t so serious when he’d told boy McCarthy, Drewie, and Dorian off, I would have laughed. When the mist arrived and took away the lower floors—dungeons included—changes were made and class venues had to be adjusted. Surprise! We held Potions classes in the duelling arena, which was converted into a room that, y’know, works. Unfortunately had to compromise the seats, though. In that lesson, Professor Noble raised the thousand-galleon question: “What different ways are there of fastening or attaching things to something else?” Answers ranged from charms to potions to muggle means of sticking objects together. Next thing I knew it, we were identifying adhesives inside cauldrons and using them to mend broken plates, to hang picture frames, and to reattach pages in a book. We got to choose between muggle PVA glue, the basic sticking solution, spellotape, StuckOnGlu, and the gripping solution. All I’m saying is...when in doubt, Spellotape it out. (Don’t tell Professor Noble I said that.) Except let’s be honest, though, the REAL fun was getting to rock climb as an optional activity, with the use of socks and gloves treated with the gripping solution. The activity, I believe, shouldn’t have been made optional because come on, you guys. Professor Noble also said that the Gripping Solution is sometimes referred to as the Spiderman Potion—and NO, you don’t shoot webs out of your hands. Peter Parker, who?
Despite the unforeseen misty circumstances, all was well in Potions class. A lot of us were angsty little hellions from the lack of sunshine and the crazy sleeping arrangements, but one thing never changes. Professor Noble is still the ultimate resting boss face. Professor Noble remains consistent with his unimpressed brow furrow, and Professor Noble knows how to make face masks. Be like Professor Noble.
transfiguration
So, this year’s first Transfiguration lesson seemed to be too early for even Professor Barlow, judging by the major bedhead the man was sporting and the rumpled, wrinkled clothes. Could someone please (calmly!) broach the topic with Headmaster Trent? All these early classes are going to be the death of us! Anyway, when one first stepped into the classroom that cold morning, there wasn’t really anything out of the ordinary aside from the state of the professor’s hair and clothing. Nope, just an ordinary classroom. But looks could be deceiving, as the lesson was about a topic that was anything but ordinary: muggle ‘magic’ tricks. And you would be right to question the topic of muggle magic being taught in a Transfiguration class. However, Professor Barlow had a method to his seeming madness, a point he was making with his lesson (aside from the bombshell that was Houdini being a wizard, of course. What, it was a surprise to me!). But before he got to that point, he had his students try a few magic tricks, revealing a table that was covered with various muggle props such as playing cards, metal rings, cups and ping-pong balls and coins. Oh, and of course, wands were banned. A fact that had Nina Castillo straight up glaring at Barlow. For why? It’s anyone’s guess, I’m not a mind reader!
Anyway, after awhile of everyone trying and not having much luck, aside from Cassidy Burke and Maeve Walsh with their coin tricks and Rylee Prichard with the connecting hoops, Professor Barlow moved class along with the task of coming up with a stage name. Which no one really seemed interested in sharing out loud, mind. Anyway, here’s where we get to the point of the lesson: Pileus Turritus, or the top hat conjuring spell and Lapifors, or the rabbit conjuring spell. The class was to use these to conjure a top hat and rabbit so as to perform the rabbit-out-of-a-hat trick. Also, there was a disclaimer there about how using your real, wand magic to swindle money out of muggles was against the Statue of Secrecy that honestly, I would’ve been interested in hearing more about (what brought the rule about, any violations of it in the past, etc.). Anyway, a good time was had by most.
By the time of the second lesson, everyone was restricted to living in the top floors of the castle, classes were being moved to wherever they could fit and access to anything outside was absolutely not allowed thanks to the mist. But one thing that had remained the same was the location of Professor Barlow’s classroom, thank goodness. Anyway, for this lesson, the class was tasked with bringing an inanimate object (any inanimate object) with us. Most of us were clever enough to bring something impersonal, like an old shirt or a broken beater’s bat.
The lesson was, of course, started off with a question: what could we do with the objects we brought (in a Transfiguration sense). At the top of the most useful suggestions list? Daisy Swann’s Scribblifors (object into quill) and Eloise Fairfield’s suggestion of vanishing or mending. But it was ultimately Tina Dantes that hit the nail on the head: switching spells, those little spells that switch one thing for another. Which was where our objects came in, if you hadn’t guessed. The class was to study their own objects, really get to know their characteristics before we could get started. Once we were more than familiar with our objects, Professor Barlow moved the lesson along to the activity: there were three stations sat up with different objects. The first was feathers, second was stuffed animals and third was a mannequin. The goal? To switch one part of our own object with one of (or a part of) the objects on the workstation using the spell Mutatis Mutandi. Which made some really funny combinations such as Lucas Dakest’s feather-tailed elephant. As for what situations the spell would come in handy, as Barlow had asked? Well, the whole out-of-toilet-paper-in-the-restroom situation came to mind. Anyway, that’s where the lesson and Transfiguration ended for the term.
Anyway, after awhile of everyone trying and not having much luck, aside from Cassidy Burke and Maeve Walsh with their coin tricks and Rylee Prichard with the connecting hoops, Professor Barlow moved class along with the task of coming up with a stage name. Which no one really seemed interested in sharing out loud, mind. Anyway, here’s where we get to the point of the lesson: Pileus Turritus, or the top hat conjuring spell and Lapifors, or the rabbit conjuring spell. The class was to use these to conjure a top hat and rabbit so as to perform the rabbit-out-of-a-hat trick. Also, there was a disclaimer there about how using your real, wand magic to swindle money out of muggles was against the Statue of Secrecy that honestly, I would’ve been interested in hearing more about (what brought the rule about, any violations of it in the past, etc.). Anyway, a good time was had by most.
By the time of the second lesson, everyone was restricted to living in the top floors of the castle, classes were being moved to wherever they could fit and access to anything outside was absolutely not allowed thanks to the mist. But one thing that had remained the same was the location of Professor Barlow’s classroom, thank goodness. Anyway, for this lesson, the class was tasked with bringing an inanimate object (any inanimate object) with us. Most of us were clever enough to bring something impersonal, like an old shirt or a broken beater’s bat.
The lesson was, of course, started off with a question: what could we do with the objects we brought (in a Transfiguration sense). At the top of the most useful suggestions list? Daisy Swann’s Scribblifors (object into quill) and Eloise Fairfield’s suggestion of vanishing or mending. But it was ultimately Tina Dantes that hit the nail on the head: switching spells, those little spells that switch one thing for another. Which was where our objects came in, if you hadn’t guessed. The class was to study their own objects, really get to know their characteristics before we could get started. Once we were more than familiar with our objects, Professor Barlow moved the lesson along to the activity: there were three stations sat up with different objects. The first was feathers, second was stuffed animals and third was a mannequin. The goal? To switch one part of our own object with one of (or a part of) the objects on the workstation using the spell Mutatis Mutandi. Which made some really funny combinations such as Lucas Dakest’s feather-tailed elephant. As for what situations the spell would come in handy, as Barlow had asked? Well, the whole out-of-toilet-paper-in-the-restroom situation came to mind. Anyway, that’s where the lesson and Transfiguration ended for the term.