HH: Homework #1 - DADA - First Year, First Session

Genevieve Craon stood facing a student she had never seen before, a Slytherin girl so thin she looked ill. “She can’t be too strong, skinny like that,” Gen thought to herself, before the girl calmly said “Flipendo”, and Gen flew backwards into the pile of stacked desks. Thankfully the desk she hit turned into a giant cushion, which stopped most of what could have been bruises and broken bones, but the pressure on her chest still felt as if she had been kicked. She slid to the floor and sat there, in quite an ungainly way for a lady.

“Now, now, Miss Craon. Up and at ‘em – best defence is a good offence after all.” Professor Gryffindor singled her out in his amplified voice and Genevieve blushed a deep red. The professor moved from his place at the front of the class and came down the rows of practicing students, giving some tips and hints to those whose spell hadn’t worked as well as Genevieve’s partner’s had. The Slytherin in question stood examining perfectly pearly nails in a bored manner, making Gen squint in annoyance as a fierce desire to see that perfect blonde head utterly dishevelled.

“Well done Miss Beauvallet, well done. Though, maybe a little too well done. Beginner’s luck perhaps?” Professor Gryffindor patted the Slytherin on the shoulder and then stood next to Genevieve, offering her his hand to help her up. Gen blushed some more, and took the hand of her teacher, much to the amusement of the other students who were secretly watching instead of focusing on their own spells. This caused some funny things to happen, such as one student sprouting wings where their ears had been, and Professor Gryffindor had to sort out that mishap, as well as put out three fires, before he could make his way back to Genevieve and her partner.

“Now, Miss Craon, I have heard about your success in casting the cleaning spell ‘Tergeo’ when you and Miss Gullingham cleaned out that monstrosity of a corridor last week. Tergeo, while seemingly easy, calls for a lot of focus, much like Flipendo, as you have to focus your magic into your wand before expelling it outwards into your target.” He smiled, cheerfully, and the Slytherin scowled at his praise of Gen’s spell-casting abilities. “And let’s not forget the wand movement, the tick with a swirly edge.” This last was directed at the rest of the class, some of whom nodded and practiced the movement without the incantation, and some of whom tried both at the same time to little or no effect. “Now, stand strong. Feet slightly apart, yes, that’s right. Raise your wand…good, good…concentrate now. Right, and the movement, yes, that’s it. Good, good Miss Craon. Now, I will come back in a few minutes if you have any trouble, but try to knock Miss Beauvallet back like she knocked you a few moments ago.” He looked up at the next pair of students and paled a bit. “No, NO! Master Willoughby that is NOT the correct wand movement at all.” He moved on to the next pair, two boys, one of which was levitating several inches above the floor panic on his face.

Gen looked at the skinny Slytherin and took up her stance again. She tapped her wand on her skirt, that had seemed to bring her good luck in the paint cleaning spells, and then raised it chest height. She visualised the wand movement, then, with more courage than skill, moved her wand and said ‘Flipendo’ while concentrating as hard as she could on the essence of the magic. There was a loud bang – why did most spells come with loud sounds – and the Slytherin girl slid several feet backwards, bumping into the corner of a desk…which did not become a cushion to stop the severity of the injury.

“You’re going to pay for that you muggle-loving moron!” The Slytherin hissed, rubbing her knee where there was surely going to be a most painful bruise in a few hours. “Flipendo!” She shouted, but she was casting spells in anger and not concentrating on either the movement or the magic and so nothing more than a strong wind, smelling like sulphur and rotten eggs, and a large amount of violet smoke shot from her wand in Genevieve’s direction.

“Now, now, Miss Beauvallet, no need to shout. Success in casting spells isn’t determined by who can say them the loudest, but rather by whose concentration and ability is best.” Professor Gryffindor turned from his position at the end of the row and Gen could have sworn he winked at her. Meanwhile the students around them were doubling over and holding their noses at the foul smell that was coming from their direction. With a wave of his wand the smoke cleared and the students resumed their practicing. The Slytherin blushed furiously before folding her arms across her chest and glaring at Genevieve.

Genevieve took her position again, concentrated on the magic within her and with a wave of her wand stated ‘Flipendo’. Her partner, unprepared for the spell because she was standing with her eyes closed, suddenly found herself sliding across the floor and crashing into a large cushion which had appeared behind her.

“I wasn’t ready you half-blood banshee!” She hissed.

“In life one isn’t always prepared for what comes at you Miss Beauvallet.” Professor Gryffindor had appeared again to help the pair. “Well done Miss Craon. Not exactly the knockback we were going for, a little bit more concentration will see that right no doubt, but you successfully propelled your partner away from you.” He smiled. “Which is more than I can say for you, Master Tinel,” he directed his attention to a Slytherin student a few meters away who was staring, mouth open. “Blood doesn’t make the witch or wizard you know. It’s talent, courage and skill that makes magic successful in the end. Now, let’s see you try with your partner Master Tinel.” Professor Gryffindor moved on to the next pair and left Genevieve to offer her hand to her partner, who pushed it out of the way and stood up unaided.

“Flipendo!” Both Genevieve and her partner spoke at the same time, and the resulting bursts of magic caused both ladies to fly off their feet and into the large cushions that appeared behind them.

“Well done students, well done.” Professor Gryffindor caught the attention of the class before things could get nasty and out of hand. “We’ll do more practice next class.” He waved his wand and the desks and bags returned to their original positions. “Class dismissed.”

“Crazy cat-loving coward.” The Slytherin girl hissed at Genevieve, and she bent to pick up her satchel. The Slytherin girl stormed from the classroom, the smell of sulphur and rotten eggs still lingering on her robes.

Ashes, seeming to agree, curled around Gen’s legs until she picked him up along with her books and exited the class, heading for Charms…or was it Potions next? All that energy spent on trying to successfully cast spells had caused her to forget her timetable. She put Ashes down and rummaged in her bag before extracting the scroll on which was written the class timetable for the year. It was Potions. Oh goody, she had enjoyed making potions with mother; maybe that class would be a better one than the Defence Against the Dark Arts one she had just exited. She repacked her bag, picked up her cat and, with a smile on her face, walked past the giggling Slytherin girls and made her way down to the dungeons for potions class.