Transfiguration - 1st Year (Lesson 2)

Beetles to Button

This spell transfigure an ordindary button into a bettle. The caster must hold their wand firmly, while visulizing the bettle transforming into a button. They then must swish their wand in an anticlockwise direction twice and say the incantation "Scarabaeus"

To reverse this spell the caster simply must visualize the button turning back into a beetle, and swish their wand twice, except this time in a clockwise direction

Axel wrinkled his nose in concentration as he harshly swished his wand though the air, muttering the incantation. He stopped, staring intently at the beetle for a few long seconds before with a puff of smoke, a button clicked to the floor, only with legs and antennae sticking out of it. The boy took a deep breath, visualizing the transformation. He took a look at the beetle lying on his desk, and with another breath, tried again for the fourth time.

((Would it be alright if I joined here, evern though my char's in Ravenclaw? c: ))

Mary stared at the Hogwarts professor, wondering how she'd ever manage to turn the beetle into a button. She'd heard of transfiguration, and how hard it was. As well as the brutal consequences that could appear afterwards. Especially if they were attempting with larger items. She glared at the wriggling beetle on the table in front of her, and wrinkled her nose with disgust. She didn't have anything in common with beetles, and she was certainly happy she didn't!

Rummaging in her pockets she took hold of her wand and stared intensivly at the beetle, then swirled her wand anti-clockwise like they'd been taught. Silently she muttered the incarnation that would turn the beetle into a button, visualizing what it might look like.

She closed her eyes as she said the spell, not wishing to see the beetle turn into a button. It seemed rather brutual to turn a living being into something that wouldn't live, and she frowned slightly. Reopening her eyes she saw to her great disappointment, as well as relief that the beetle remained on the desk, it's small legs flailing in the air since her spell had caused it to flip right around. Once again, she did the movement, but with a more confident way and her voice was clearer. "Scarabeus." she said firmly, her eyes placed on the beetle. A smile broadened on her face as the beetle had turned into a larger black button, and she touched it slightly. Sure, the button was slightly softer than it should have been, but it seemed like it had worked pretty well for a second try.

Eager to retry her near-success, she grabbed a new beetle from a nearby jar, and put it on the desk, raising her wand to perform the spell once again, this time aiming to make it as solid as a button would be.

Samuel walked into the classroom, very, very late. The only reason he didn't come last lesson was because he wasn't IN Hogwarts last lesson, so that's that. But he didn't really have an excuse except for the fact that he was lost.

He read the instructions on the board thoroughly, and raised his wand into position.

He visualized the beetle turning into a button and clearly said, "Scarabaeus."

He swished his wand anti-clockwise twice, and saw the beetle turning into a button. It really was cool to see it transfigure.

He glanced up at the board once again, and swished his wand the opposite direction, imagining the beetle again. He smiled in satisfaction when it turned back into the green beetle.

Looking up from her seat, Mary noticed that a boy had arrived, and frowned softly, noticing how late he was. However, she was wise enough to keep her mouth tightly shut and focused on the beetle again. Once again, the small black button turned out to be slightly soft in the center as well as quite a few legs poking out of the various places, and she grumbled with frustration as she turned it back.

Envious of the boy, she sneaked a glance at him, surprised to find that he did it so remarkably easily. "Wow. You've got a talent for transfiguration, it seems," she commented, and gave a gentle smile before turning back to her beetle.

Trying to memorize what the boy had done, that she hadn't, she tried flicking her wand a little sharper and muttered the incarnation under her breath. To her greatest satisfaction, the beetle turned completely solid, no legs visible and she reached forwards to pick it up. Even more pleasured, she noticed that the beetle had turned as solid as it was supposed to. Making another flick, she redid the transfiguration so that the green beetle she'd practiced at turned back to the normal state it had been in. Smiling, she carefully put it back into the glass, and watched the jar full of cribbling creatures before she gathered her book and stoved it away.

Sam glanced at the Ravenclaw and felt his ears redden at her praise.

"Th-thank you," he said softly, "I don't get many compliments around here. It's mainly 'oi kid, move!' or something..."

Mary looked back at the Gryffindor boy and allowed herself a gentle smile, as well as a symphatic glow in her eyes. "I know how you feel about that one. But honestly, you're quite good at this. Without looking at how you did it, I wouldn't have managed to do it myself," she said and smiled softly. Looking up, she realised the lesson was coming to an end and gathered her books, and stood up from her chair. "I'm Mary. Mary Swale," she said and held out her hand politely, glad to meet someone at her age.

Sam smiled back at Mary, and felt his ears get hotter.

"Thanks," he mumbled, looking at his feet.

He glanced up at her and found to his surprise, that she was holding her hand out to him; to be.... friends.

This was all new to him. His only friends were his older sister and the rest of his family - this was because he was a werewolf. He was dangerous; you often hear "danger, werewolf!" whenever he passes by, so he fully gave up on friends.

But this girl - Mary Swale - wanted to be friends with him. With. him.

He looked up at her properly and allowed himself a soft smile. Taking her hand and shaking it, he stated, "I'm Samuel Potter, but Samuel's too long, so just call me Sam, please."

Unknown about what Samuel was currently thinking, Mary merely smiled kindly to him, happy that she'd accomplished the troublesome task of getting to know someone. It was a task she hardly ever managed to accomplish very well, as she was so quiet and often seen as unsocial and weird. "Alright, Sam. Glad to meet you," she commented and released his hand, seeing that they'd both said their names. "You're related to the famous Potters then?" she asked, tilting her head softly to the side. She'd often read about the famous war that went on long before her time of birth, how the Chosen one had beaten the Dark Lord and save their school, and even more importantly, the entire wizarding world.

Of course, her family hardly had anything to fear, being pureblooded through and through, but she despised the thought of killing muggleborns for deeds they hadn't done.

((Short, sorry... I can't seem to think properly ^^; ))

Sam tilted his head slightly at the phrase "famous Potters."

"Well, I think my great great grandfather was Harry Potter, boy who lived, chosen one and all that, my grandfather was James Potter II and the guy who won England the Quidditch World cup for who knows how long..." He closed his eyes in concentration, "Well, that's what my sister says anyway, but I really can't remember the dates."

He smiled slightly at the thought of his sister. His sister, the Quidditch lover.

((I seem to be half asleep too, so no biggie xD)

Mary smiled and listened to Sam with a very interested look on her face, sucking in the information as if she'd just read a very fascinating book. Woah, I've met many famous decendants during the first two months... Not too surprising, really, she thought to herself and smiled softly.

"That's really cool! I can hardly think my family's ever done anything extraordinary. Except for my grandpa and uncle who died during the Great War though," she muttered, although didn't seem too down at that. "Do you know how to play Quidditch? I've been reading about the subject, but I doubt that theory about this sport will help me much if I ever happen to try it," she muttered, and raised an eyebrow, a sly smirk over her face.

Her father had always longed for her to play Quidditch, although she hadn't really tried it. His strained face appeared in her mind, and she couldn't help but let out a soft chuckle at the image. "Perhaps you'd have the time to teach me how to fly..? Just if you'd like to, of course!" she said hastily, afraid he'd be offended in any way by her question.

Sam smiled at her question.

MERLIN'S POLKA DOTTED SOCKS, I HAVE A FRIEND!! He inwardly exclaimed, and partied in his mind; but outside, he smiled at her.

"You want to try Quidditch?" He asked her, "I'm not the best, I prefer flying, but I'm pretty decent at Quidditch, thanks to my sister... I could teach you how to fly, the rules of Quidditch, and even some of the basic techniques if you want..."

He thought for a moment, trying to figure out if she said why she wanted to learn Quidditch. "But if I may ask, is there a particular reason you want to learn Quidditch?" He asked her.

Without realising what Sam really thought, Mary focused mainly on what he said, and on trying to continue making him smile like he did right now. "Yeah, sure!" she said exitedly, although chuckled at his comment. "See, you don't have to be so hard on yourself. I bet you're fenomenal. Better than I am, at least. The nearest I've been a broom, was when I accidentally tripped into my father's closet, where he keeps his brooms," she joked and smiled slightly. "I know most of the theory... Although it's more the practice and techniques I could use," she explained although fell quite silent at his last question.

"Well... I guess the main reason is that my father and my uncles used to be great in Quidditch when they were at Hogwarts. All three of them. They managed to grab all the three Chaser spots, and I'd like to prove to my dad that I can be good in something he's good at," she explained and shrugged. "Though it seems this lesson is done, so... If you've got the time, maybe we could head out for the quidditch pitch?" she suggested gladly, the excited spark reigniting in her eyes.

"You're so nice for thinking that I am 'fenomenal' as you put it," he said, eyes twinkling, "but the only reason I tried out for flying and Quidditch is because of my sister, but I ended up liking it..." he frowned in concentration.

"Well, let's go!" He exclaimed when he realized that the lesson was, indeed, over.

((Would it be alright if YOU start the new topic on the Quidditch pitch?))

((Sure, I will. I won't be making a reply though, because I know it would only be a few sentences short...))