|
|
|
|
|
|
|
The Forgotten Weasley Crew
|
 Posted: Fri Nov 30, 2018 2:09 pm
When everything turns to black,
You don't know where to go...
You need something to justify your soul.
Silence is broken, confidence is gone;
Everything you're holding onto falls.  FA N C H O N
M A R I E
C O H E N
Professor of DADA │ Muggleborn │ Haitian
Fanchon sat in her very comfortable chair, stroking Jacques, her cat, curled up in her lap, as though she were a Bond villain, and gave the room one final once over. She had enough tables and chairs to fit everyone, she'd made sure the room was spotless, in case anyone had any dust allergies, and she'd tried to make it.... if not quite welcoming, at least slightly less intimidating, although that was a bit difficult when the decor of the room literally included a giant skeleton of some magical beast suspended above the class. Ah well. They'd have to get used to Hogwarts's quirks at some point, and DADA was a notoriously challenging class, although not quite to the level of say, Transfiguration or Potions. However, it was extremely important, and if she had her way, she'd make it mandatory for all seven years. Alas, she could not have her way, so she only had five years to drill as much knowledge as possible through their hairy little heads. If she could make sure all of them could cast a proper shield charm, patronus, disarm someone, and defeat a boggart, she'd be happy. It would raise their life expectancy significantly.
As the seventh years filtered into the room, she observed them stoically, not rising from her seat (and disturbing Jacques' nap) until everyone had taken their seats and were (mostly) quiet. "Bonjou. Good morning," she translated calmly, confident that her accent, while strong, was not an excuse for them to not listen. "I am responsible for ensuring that all of you can recognize dark magic, and properly defend yourselves against it. My rules are written on the board. Follow them, don't follow them, it's your choice. This class is largely about choices. I'm here to demonstrate to you how to make good ones." Fanchon scanned the class for a moment, before raising her wand, and closing her eyes briefly as she focused on a happy memory, of winning her very first duel and the roar of the small crowd around her. A spectral looking bat fluttered forth from her wand, flapping its wings silently. "Fifteen points each to those of you who can successfully show me their patronus, in its full form. I'm not counting wisps of smoke." All the people selling truths on every corner now-
They wait until the fear has knocked you down.
All the rules are changing now; you're living in sin...
Everything around you is caving in; all you're holding onto-
Is slipping like water through your hands.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Fri Nov 30, 2018 2:57 pm
 Faina Patrovna
Slytherin Prefect │ Seventh Year │ Seventeen Years Old │ Single
Dueling Club Captain
"Bonjou, Madam, " said Faina cheerfully, as she walked into the Defense Against Dark Arts classroom. Given her career plans, this was one class she took very seriously, and made sure to get extra practice in whenever she was able to do so. If nothing else, her training from this class already saved her life, and her mother's, so she had added incentive to do well. She'd started studying for NEWTs over the summer, and was getting in practice once the Trace was lifted. Now, she felt she was prepared for the year to come.
She took a seat in the front of the class, as she fully expected to be called up, and thought nothing of volunteering to go first. When the professor demonstrated her Patronus, she thought it really cool how it took the form of a bat. Faina raised her hand, and waited to be called upon before standing up and readying her wand. The Seventh Year closed her eyes for a moment, and focused upon the memory of that last Christmas morning when she was a kid, and the four of them were all together, unwrapping gifts, before casting her Charm.
A jet of spectral flame erupted from the barrel of her wand, and a form quickly took shape, with an aquiline head and wings emerging from the flames. The bluish-white flames of its body swirled about Faina, caressing her body before it landed upon her shoulder with its fiery talons. With its large flame-feathered wings outstretched, the spectral fire-bird looked about at those around it, letting out a silent screech as though issuing a challenge.
OOC: Taken by Lucien Markov  "And you ask me what I want this year
And I try to make this kind and clear
Just a chance that maybe we'll find better days
Cuz I don't need boxes wrapped in strings
And desire and love and empty things
Just a chance that maybe we'll find better days"
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Fri Nov 30, 2018 10:29 pm
  Tsubaki Natsumi Yuko
Seventh Year Slytherin
Pureblood ☾ Parselmouth Location : DADA - Friday @ 9:00am
Tsubaki on a Friday morning was sitting in defence. She’d been relatively good in the class. There was just one thing that she couldn’t seem to figure out, her patronus. A full blown patronus was hard and for the seventh year Slytherin it was extremely hard. She had no happy memory. No time in her life that made things worth better. Her mother died when she was young, on her birthday of all days. Her father was an abusive drunk and her aunt and uncle always favoured Saio before they were killed in a fire. Raymond wasn’t even a happy thought since know she realized he was after her sister.
So, when asked if she could produce a patronus for points, Tsubaki made no movement to attempt it. She knew she couldn’t do it. She wasn’t a fool in thinking otherwise. Remaining where she was, she watched Professor Cohen’s bat patronus before seeing her housemate’s phoenix patronus. Figures Faina would have a patronus like that.
Status : Can't do it...
Company : Class...
OOC : ---
Quick, eh? Easy enough
You're right, you certainly belong in
Slytherin!
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sun Dec 09, 2018 11:43 am
When everything turns to black,
You don't know where to go...
You need something to justify your soul.
Silence is broken, confidence is gone;
Everything you're holding onto falls. FA N C H O N
M A R I E
C O H E N
Professor of DADA │ Muggleborn │ Haitian
Fanchon was writing the list of spells learned in third year on the board as the seventh years entered. "We're going back to that wonderful time when you were all thirteen and NEWTs were just a far-off nightmare," she said, turning around with a slightly wry smile. "Sadly, I could not manage to get my hands on any grindylows or hinkypunks, but that rattling wardrobe in the back does in fact contain a boggart, and anyone who would prefer to test their knowledge on finite incantatem is welcome to come up here and try to get my desk down." Said desk was hovering up near the ceiling. Jacques the cat looked a bit distraught at his napping place being airborne, and so was wrapped around Fanchon's shoulders like a fur shrug instead. All the people selling truths on every corner now-
They wait until the fear has knocked you down.
All the rules are changing now; you're living in sin...
Everything around you is caving in; all you're holding onto-
Is slipping like water through your hands.
|
|
|
|
|
|
The Forgotten Weasley Crew
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sun Dec 09, 2018 4:33 pm
Faina Patrovna
Slytherin Prefect │ Seventh Year │ Seventeen Years Old │ Single
Dueling Club Captain
Faina chuckled at Madam Cohen's little joke, as she wasn't so far off the mark about the idea of NEWTs being a distant horror. When the professor asked for volunteers, the Seventh Year Slytherin raised her hand to be the first one to take a crack at getting her desk down from the general vicinity of the ceiling. Smoothing down her skirt as she got to her feet, Faina had a slight smile as she was looking up at the floating desk, before deciding to tuck her wand away and gesturing with her fingers. She needed a little Wandless practice anyways.
"Finite Incantatem!" intoned Faina sternly as she gestured emphatically. Suddenly, as though a rope were cut, the desk immediately plummeted toward the floor, and Faina called out, "Arresto Momentum!" the instant after the first spell was cast, catching the desk before it landed. She drew a deep breath, and then gently lowered the desk the rest of the way to the floor. She wasn't going to be the one who broke Madam Cohen's desk, at least not if she could help it.
OOC: Taken by Lucien Markov "And you ask me what I want this year
And I try to make this kind and clear
Just a chance that maybe we'll find better days
Cuz I don't need boxes wrapped in strings
And desire and love and empty things
Just a chance that maybe we'll find better days"
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Thu Dec 20, 2018 9:27 am
When everything turns to black,
You don't know where to go...
You need something to justify your soul.
Silence is broken, confidence is gone;
Everything you're holding onto falls. FA N C H O N
M A R I E
C O H E N
Professor of DADA │ Muggleborn │ Haitian
Fanchon was writing the list of spells learned in fourth year on the board as the seventh years entered and took their seats. "The back of the room," she said, as she turned around, "Has a bedazzling hex cast on it, which you may try to deflect with Salvio Hexia. And this dummy," she wrapped an arm around it's non-existent shoulders, "Is ready to be stunned. You should all be familiar enough with tongue-tying charms and petrificus totalus, given the amount of squabbles you all seem to get into, and I won't stop you from practicing on each other, but gods know I'm not volunteering to be subject to that." She returned to her desk, ready to supervise, and to ensure no one was horribly maimed in some freak incident. All the people selling truths on every corner now-
They wait until the fear has knocked you down.
All the rules are changing now; you're living in sin...
Everything around you is caving in; all you're holding onto-
Is slipping like water through your hands.
|
|
|
|
|
|
The Forgotten Weasley Crew
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
The Forgotten Weasley Crew
|
Posted: Mon Feb 11, 2019 9:43 am
When everything turns to black,
You don't know where to go...
You need something to justify your soul.
Silence is broken, confidence is gone;
Everything you're holding onto falls. FA N C H O N
M A R I E
C O H E N
Professor of DADA │ Muggleborn │ Haitian
Fanchon sat in her very comfortable chair, stroking Jacques, her cat, curled up in her lap, as though she were a Bond villain, and gave the room one final once over. She had enough tables and chairs to fit everyone, she'd made sure the room was spotless, in case anyone had any dust allergies, and she'd tried to make it.... if not quite welcoming, at least slightly less intimidating, although that was a bit difficult when the decor of the room literally included a giant skeleton of some magical beast suspended above the class. Ah well. They'd have to get used to Hogwarts's quirks at some point, and DADA was a notoriously challenging class, although not quite to the level of say, Transfiguration or Potions. However, it was extremely important, and if she had her way, she'd make it mandatory for all seven years. Alas, she could not have her way, so she only had five years to drill as much knowledge as possible through their hairy little heads. If she could make sure all of them could cast a proper shield charm, patronus, disarm someone, and defeat a boggart, she'd be happy. It would raise their life expectancy significantly.
As the seventh years filtered into the room, she observed them stoically, not rising from her seat (and disturbing Jacques' nap) until everyone had taken their seats and were (mostly) quiet. "Bonjou. Good morning," she translated calmly, confident that her accent, while strong, was not an excuse for them to not listen. "I am responsible for ensuring that all of you can recognize dark magic, and properly defend yourselves against it. My rules are written on the board. Follow them, don't follow them, it's your choice. This class is largely about choices. I'm here to demonstrate to you how to make good ones." Fanchon scanned the class for a moment, before raising her wand, and closing her eyes briefly as she focused on a happy memory, of winning her very first duel and the roar of the small crowd around her. A spectral looking bat fluttered forth from her wand, flapping its wings silently. "Fifteen points each to those of you who can successfully show me their patronus, in its full form. I'm not counting wisps of smoke." All the people selling truths on every corner now-
They wait until the fear has knocked you down.
All the rules are changing now; you're living in sin...
Everything around you is caving in; all you're holding onto-
Is slipping like water through your hands.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Mon Feb 18, 2019 10:20 am
When everything turns to black,
You don't know where to go...
You need something to justify your soul.
Silence is broken, confidence is gone;
Everything you're holding onto falls. FA N C H O N
M A R I E
C O H E N
Professor of DADA │ Muggleborn │ Haitian
Fanchon was writing the list of spells learned in third year on the board as the seventh years entered. "We're going back to that wonderful time when you were all thirteen and NEWTs were just a far-off nightmare," she said, turning around with a slightly wry smile. "Sadly, I could not manage to get my hands on any grindylows or hinkypunks, but that rattling wardrobe in the back does in fact contain a boggart, and anyone who would prefer to test their knowledge on finite incantatem is welcome to come up here and try to get my desk down." Said desk was hovering up near the ceiling. Jacques the cat looked a bit distraught at his napping place being airborne, and so was wrapped around Fanchon's shoulders like a fur shrug instead. All the people selling truths on every corner now-
They wait until the fear has knocked you down.
All the rules are changing now; you're living in sin...
Everything around you is caving in; all you're holding onto-
Is slipping like water through your hands.
|
|
|
|
|
|
The Forgotten Weasley Crew
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
The Forgotten Weasley Crew
|
Posted: Sun Mar 10, 2019 10:39 am
When everything turns to black,
You don't know where to go...
You need something to justify your soul.
Silence is broken, confidence is gone;
Everything you're holding onto falls. FA N C H O N
M A R I E
C O H E N
Professor of DADA │ Muggleborn │ Haitian
Fanchon was writing the list of spells learned in fourth year on the board as the seventh years entered and took their seats. "The back of the room," she said, as she turned around, "Has a bedazzling hex cast on it, which you may try to deflect with Salvio Hexia. And this dummy," she wrapped an arm around it's non-existent shoulders, "Is ready to be stunned. You should all be familiar enough with tongue-tying charms and petrificus totalus, given the amount of squabbles you all seem to get into, and I won't stop you from practicing on each other, but gods know I'm not volunteering to be subject to that." She returned to her desk, ready to supervise, and to ensure no one was horribly maimed in some freak incident. All the people selling truths on every corner now-
They wait until the fear has knocked you down.
All the rules are changing now; you're living in sin...
Everything around you is caving in; all you're holding onto-
Is slipping like water through your hands.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sat May 25, 2019 10:09 am
] When everything turns to black,
You don't know where to go...
You need something to justify your soul.
Silence is broken, confidence is gone;
Everything you're holding onto falls. FA N C H O N
M A R I E
C O H E N
Professor of DADA │ Muggleborn │ Haitian
Fanchon sat in her very comfortable chair, stroking Jacques, her cat, curled up in her lap, as though she were a Bond villain, and gave the room one final once over. She had enough tables and chairs to fit everyone, she'd made sure the room was spotless, in case anyone had any dust allergies, and she'd tried to make it.... if not quite welcoming, at least slightly less intimidating, although that was a bit difficult when the decor of the room literally included a giant skeleton of some magical beast suspended above the class. Ah well. They'd have to get used to Hogwarts's quirks at some point, and DADA was a notoriously challenging class, although not quite to the level of say, Transfiguration or Potions. However, it was extremely important, and if she had her way, she'd make it mandatory for all seven years. Alas, she could not have her way, so she only had five years to drill as much knowledge as possible through their hairy little heads. If she could make sure all of them could cast a proper shield charm, patronus, disarm someone, and defeat a boggart, she'd be happy. It would raise their life expectancy significantly.
As the seventh years filtered into the room, she observed them stoically, not rising from her seat (and disturbing Jacques' nap) until everyone had taken their seats and were (mostly) quiet. "Bonjou. Good morning," she translated calmly, confident that her accent, while strong, was not an excuse for them to not listen. "I am responsible for ensuring that all of you can recognize dark magic, and properly defend yourselves against it. My rules are written on the board. Follow them, don't follow them, it's your choice. This class is largely about choices. I'm here to demonstrate to you how to make good ones." Fanchon scanned the class for a moment, before raising her wand, and closing her eyes briefly as she focused on a happy memory, of winning her very first duel and the roar of the small crowd around her. A spectral looking bat fluttered forth from her wand, flapping its wings silently. "Twenty points each to those of you who can successfully show me their patronus, in its full form. I'm not counting wisps of smoke." All the people selling truths on every corner now-
They wait until the fear has knocked you down.
All the rules are changing now; you're living in sin...
Everything around you is caving in; all you're holding onto-
Is slipping like water through your hands.
|
|
|
|
|
|
The Forgotten Weasley Crew
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
