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The Forgotten Weasley Crew
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 Posted: Sun Sep 03, 2017 6:32 am
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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 The DADA classroom was in quite the state. For one, the chairs and desks were all floating a few feet off the ground. For another, the room was unnaturally cold, causing breath to fog. And finally, various textbooks and quills and bits of parchment were flying around the room as if posessed. Fanchon sat at her desk, the only one remaining on the ground, and watched cautiously as Jacques leapt from floating seat to floating seat, looking thrilled. When the third years entered, and well, didn't take their seats, she stood up, rubbing her hands together vigorously to warm them up.
"Today you are learning what is known as the general counter-spell. The only reason we wait until third year to teach you this is because you would struggle to master it were you any less experienced. Casting this terminates all spell effects, which means you should always think before throwing this spell around, lest it undo something you cast previously. It's often used at the end of duels, or during them, to stop a long-lasting spell, or as a general precaution. Never enter a magical place you have never been before and cannot trust without casting this. If people had more sense, they'd avoid a lot of nastier magic this way."
She nodded to the board. "I'm not about to cast it myself, as that would undo all my hard work in this room, but you are. The incantation is fi-NEE-tay in-can-TAH-tem. The hand movement is drawn up there. The light should be bright red."
The Haitian woman shrugged. "I don't know about the rest of you, but I would prefer the room to be warmer, the furniture to all be stationary, and to not run the chance of a textbook colliding with my face. As you will."
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. |
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Posted: Sun Sep 10, 2017 8:05 am
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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 stood in the back of the classroom, beside a large wardrobe, which was rattling rather ominously. She motion for the students sitting down to turn around to face her, before beginning her lecture. "A boggart," she said calmly, "Is what is currently banging around in this wardrobe. Boggarts are amortal non-beings, which means that they were never alive, and thus can never die. They are shapeshifters who survive off of fear, which means that as soon as I release this boggart, it will focus on whoever is nearest and assume the form of their worst fear, whatever that may be. However, our strength lies in numbers. The more people present, the more confused and indecisive the boggart will become, trying to decide which fear to take the shape of. No one has ever seen what a boggart looks like when it is alone, for obvious reasons."
She rapped on the wardrobe lightly, which shook in response. "Boggarts like enclosed, dark spaces, such as wardrobes, closets, under beds, but they can also lurk in dark corners or forests. Much like poltergeists and Dementors, boggarts exist because of the combination of our magic and our very human emotions. As long as there is fear in the world, there will be boggarts. Muggles do not typically see or encounter boggarts, and when they do, usually write them off as hallucinations. Now, I don't want this lesson to teach you to be ashamed of your fears. Every human fears something. Fear is important. It's what keeps us alive. The purpose of defeating a boggart, however, is to learn how to triumph over your fear."
Fanchon abruptly pulled open the door, and a dark shape slithered out, before springing up in the air like an ashen, whirling cloud, transforming into suffocating dirt, which surrounded the woman. There was silence for a moment, then "Ri-di-KULL-lis!", a whip-like crack, and the dirt turned into harmless confetti, drifting to the floor while the Haitian chuckled, before retreating back into the wardrobe. She slammed the door shut quickly. "I have feared being buried alive ever since I was a little girl, when an earthquake killed my parents," she informed the class mildly. "However, you just saw me face my fear and force the boggart back into its hiding space. I cast the Boggart-Banishing Spell, Riddikulus. It forces the boggart to take the shape of something humorous. But the spell alone didn't defeat the boggart. My laughter did. You have to be able to genuinely laugh to fend off a boggart."
"If you cannot acknowledge your fears, you stand no chance of fighting the boggart. You have to take them as they are, and visualize them as something not frightening, but humorous, in your minds. The movement is this:,"
She looked over the class once more. "I think it's important that all you have a go at it. Obviously, I cannot force you, and I understand that some fears are much more... realistic... than others. I can't speak to what any of you may have gone through in your lives. But I do think it's crucial that we acknowledge those things, rather than letting them fester. If anyone is not comfortable with their classmates seeing their fears, speak to me after class, and we'll make arrangements." Fanchon glanced over at the wardrobe. "Alright. Who's first?"
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. |
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The Forgotten Weasley Crew
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Posted: Sun Sep 10, 2017 12:41 pm
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Posted: Mon Nov 13, 2017 9:15 pm
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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 third 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 Fanchon Cohen, and 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." She scanned the class for a moment. "Well, you are third years now, so I expect to be impressed. My wand is here," she raised her hand. "First person to disarm me will earn their house ten points."
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. |
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The Forgotten Weasley Crew
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Posted: Wed Nov 15, 2017 5:45 pm
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Faina Patrovna-Harcroft
Slytherin │ Third Year │ Thirteen Years Old │ Single
Defense Against the Dark Arts was one of Faina's favourite classes, and one she actually looked forward to. Not only was the professor cool, but her class was interesting, and darned important too, at least as far as she was concerned. It was part of the reason why she signed up for Dueling Club, and had tried to even as a First Year. The half-Russian girl made sure to arrive as early as she could manage to get a good seat to comfortably read the blackboard, and have her class notes and her pens ready for when the class started.
When the professor started asking for volunteers, she put her hand up immediately, as she was determined to put a good show in, and to avail herself of a chance to earn a few House points, assuming she could get the spell she'd watched others do to work for her. After drawing a deep breath, she stood up and squared her shoulders, before offering a bow and and a salute, as though this were a formal duel rather than just a class. "Expelliarmus!" she called out, and she was rewarded with a bolt of scarlet light, which spat from the end of her wand. The bolt of bright red light sped across the scant few feet, and tagged the wand in the professor's hand.
.
 "Precious and fragile things, need special handling
My God what have we done to you?
We always try to share, the tenderest of care
Now look what we have put you through
Things get damaged, things get broken
I thought we'd manage, but words left unspoken
Left us so brittle, there was so little left to give "
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Posted: Sun Nov 19, 2017 5:24 am
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Rhett Fang Ye
<3rd year>
☯
Defense Against Dark Arts was one of Rhett's favorite classes even if it was not one of his best classes-that would be herbology. However, in Rhett's opinion Professor Cohen was one of the coolest professors in the school with her laid back approach to the rules while still being no nonsense. Rhett was as likely to pull a prank on Professor Cohen as he would Professor Hill but for very different reasons. Professor Hill would feed him to some plant likely, but Professor Cohen would probably show disappointment and to him that was worse. Getting to class, a little later than he liked, he took a seat next to Faina and smiling said in a quiet whisper to her, "Hi-ya, I hope you had a good summer." However, before a conversation could be started class began and Professor Cohen tasked them with retrieving her wand. Faina beat Rhett to volunteering but Rhett was okay with that as Faina had beat him to class after all.
☯ ☯ ☯
Time: 2039-2040
Location: Defense Against Dark Arts III
Looking: Ready for Adventure
Hello, then, Rhett
Hm, adventurous and reckless,
And you like pranks and can't sit still
Yes, I know just where to place you
Gryffindor! {OoC: }
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The Forgotten Weasley Crew
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Posted: Sun Nov 26, 2017 5:08 pm
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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 The DADA classroom was in quite the state. For one, the chairs and desks were all floating a few feet off the ground. For another, the room was unnaturally cold, causing breath to fog. And finally, various textbooks and quills and bits of parchment were flying around the room as if posessed. Fanchon sat at her desk, the only one remaining on the ground, and watched cautiously as Jacques leapt from floating seat to floating seat, looking thrilled. When the third years entered, and well, didn't take their seats, she stood up, rubbing her hands together vigorously to warm them up.
"Today you are learning what is known as the general counter-spell. The only reason we wait until third year to teach you this is because you would struggle to master it were you any less experienced. Casting this terminates all spell effects, which means you should always think before throwing this spell around, lest it undo something you cast previously. It's often used at the end of duels, or during them, to stop a long-lasting spell, or as a general precaution. Never enter a magical place you have never been before and cannot trust without casting this. If people had more sense, they'd avoid a lot of nastier magic this way."
She nodded to the board. "I'm not about to cast it myself, as that would undo all my hard work in this room, but you are. The incantation is fi-NEE-tay in-can-TAH-tem. The hand movement is drawn up there. The light should be bright red."
The Haitian woman shrugged. "I don't know about the rest of you, but I would prefer the room to be warmer, the furniture to all be stationary, and to not run the chance of a textbook colliding with my face. As you will."
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. |
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Posted: Mon Nov 27, 2017 8:04 pm
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Faina Patrovna-Harcroft
Slytherin │ Third Year │ Thirteen Years Old │ Single
When she saw what was going on in the DADA classroom, Faina thought for certain Peeves was pranking them. "Bozhe moi," she muttered, as she felt the need to flip the hood of her Slytherin sweatshirt up, as she suddenly discovered how cold the room was. She barely flinched as she saw a large textbook pass rather close to her.
As the class started, Faina found herself nodding along with what Madam Cohen was saying, agreeing with what she was saying. Having seen the spell used, and studied ahead in the book, she found it interesting the wand movement looked like one was tracing the outline of a shield in the air. When given leave to do so, Faina drew out her wand and took aim on a passing desk...
.
"Precious and fragile things, need special handling
My God what have we done to you?
We always try to share, the tenderest of care
Now look what we have put you through
Things get damaged, things get broken
I thought we'd manage, but words left unspoken
Left us so brittle, there was so little left to give "
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The Forgotten Weasley Crew
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Posted: Sun Dec 03, 2017 1:41 pm
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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 stood in the back of the classroom, beside a large wardrobe, which was rattling rather ominously. She motion for the students sitting down to turn around to face her, before beginning her lecture. "A boggart," she said calmly, "Is what is currently banging around in this wardrobe. Boggarts are amortal non-beings, which means that they were never alive, and thus can never die. They are shapeshifters who survive off of fear, which means that as soon as I release this boggart, it will focus on whoever is nearest and assume the form of their worst fear, whatever that may be. However, our strength lies in numbers. The more people present, the more confused and indecisive the boggart will become, trying to decide which fear to take the shape of. No one has ever seen what a boggart looks like when it is alone, for obvious reasons."
She rapped on the wardrobe lightly, which shook in response. "Boggarts like enclosed, dark spaces, such as wardrobes, closets, under beds, but they can also lurk in dark corners or forests. Much like poltergeists and Dementors, boggarts exist because of the combination of our magic and our very human emotions. As long as there is fear in the world, there will be boggarts. Muggles do not typically see or encounter boggarts, and when they do, usually write them off as hallucinations. Now, I don't want this lesson to teach you to be ashamed of your fears. Every human fears something. Fear is important. It's what keeps us alive. The purpose of defeating a boggart, however, is to learn how to triumph over your fear."
Fanchon abruptly pulled open the door, and a dark shape slithered out, before springing up in the air like an ashen, whirling cloud, transforming into suffocating dirt, which surrounded the woman. There was silence for a moment, then "Ri-di-KULL-lis!", a whip-like crack, and the dirt turned into harmless confetti, drifting to the floor while the Haitian chuckled, before retreating back into the wardrobe. She slammed the door shut quickly. "I have feared being buried alive ever since I was a little girl, when an earthquake killed my parents," she informed the class mildly. "However, you just saw me face my fear and force the boggart back into its hiding space. I cast the Boggart-Banishing Spell, Riddikulus. It forces the boggart to take the shape of something humorous. But the spell alone didn't defeat the boggart. My laughter did. You have to be able to genuinely laugh to fend off a boggart."
"If you cannot acknowledge your fears, you stand no chance of fighting the boggart. You have to take them as they are, and visualize them as something not frightening, but humorous, in your minds. The movement is this:,"
She looked over the class once more. "I think it's important that all you have a go at it. Obviously, I cannot force you, and I understand that some fears are much more... realistic... than others. I can't speak to what any of you may have gone through in your lives. But I do think it's crucial that we acknowledge those things, rather than letting them fester. If anyone is not comfortable with their classmates seeing their fears, speak to me after class, and we'll make arrangements." Fanchon glanced over at the wardrobe. "Alright. Who's first?"
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. |
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Posted: Sun Dec 03, 2017 3:28 pm
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Rhett Fang Ye
<3rd year>
☯
Rhett entered the room and took a seat looking curiously at the rattling wardrobe. Unlike some of his classmates the rattling did not particularly concern me but excited him. When Professor Cohen introduced the topic of boggarts and that a boggart was in the wardrobe, Rhett straightened excited. He liked to consider himself fairly well fearless. Even fire while he did not particularly like it did not fear that. He wasn't afraid of the dark like his sister. Animals didn't scare him. Even Professor Hill didn't scare him. It took Rhett a moment to come up with his fear though he was sure that the boggart would have picked it out quicker. Being weak or seen as weak was a fear of Rhett's. He considered his fear and was not sure how the boggart could materialize that, but figured the best thing was to be ready for it and wing it by turning it into something funny.
When asked for volunteers, Rhett eagerly raised his hand volunteering. When it came to his turn he stepped forward and the boggart snapped into the appearance of a very rotund middle age woman wearing too much make-up that quickly waddled towards Rhett with her hands out and gushing, "Oh honey, you are so cute... so 'ittle and adorable..." Rhett took a step back surprised as the woman, embodying the worst of those who talked about his cuteness and adorableness. Rhett frowned and with a whip of his wand called out "Ri-di-KULL-lis!" Suddenly the woman sprouted quite a lot of facial hair and growing long beard, which looked ridiculous with the woman's garish make-up and Rhett let out a hardy laugh from which the confused boggart turned to take on the next student.
☯ ☯ ☯
Time: 2039-2040
Location: Defense Against Dark Arts III
Looking: Ready for Adventure
Hello, then, Rhett
Hm, adventurous and reckless,
And you like pranks and can't sit still
Yes, I know just where to place you
Gryffindor! {OoC: }
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Posted: Sun Dec 03, 2017 6:46 pm
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Posted: Mon Dec 04, 2017 8:15 pm
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Faina Patrovna-Harcroft
Slytherin │ Third Year │ Thirteen Years Old │ Single
It was uncharacteristic of her, but Faina ran a bit behind to day, and she ended up sitting down with Rhett and Ferdie. This she took as a good thing, as she rather suspected she knew what was inside the cupboard. This she knew would be an acid test of her strength of will.
After watching the professor get buried alive, Rhett getting confronted by a strange woman, and Ferdie facing an evil clown ('but, then aren't all clowns?' she reasoned to herself. 'After all, there's no knowing what hides under the makeup.'), it was her turn. Drawing a deep breath she approached the wardrobe, and saw...
...Her mother laying dead in a hospital bed at St. Mungo's, and all her mother's family gathered there while the Russian Orthodox priest offered up last rites. Fear and anguish grabbed at her soul, though she knew in her heart this didn't happen over the summer, and yet here she was seeing it. "Dorogoy Bog, nyet," she breathed. Then one by one, they would glance sadly at her before vanishing before her eyes, until only her little sister remained. "Dorogoy Bog, ne ostavlyay menya, Kotenok," she pleaded, but her blonde-haired little sister faded as though she'd never been there, and all that was left was her mother's body. Faina fought down the urge to cry, and she muttered to herself in a guttural tone, "YA ne slabyy." Clutching her wand, she spat out, "Ridikullis!"
There was a loud snap, as though a whip was cracked right by her ear, and then she heard a loud girlish "Boo!" as her sister giggled and pounced on her from behind, and Faina laughed aloud as her sister got her where she was ticklish.
.
"Precious and fragile things, need special handling
My God what have we done to you?
We always try to share, the tenderest of care
Now look what we have put you through
Things get damaged, things get broken
I thought we'd manage, but words left unspoken
Left us so brittle, there was so little left to give "
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The Forgotten Weasley Crew
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Posted: Sun Dec 10, 2017 7:38 am
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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 stood next to a tank filled with water in front of the class, ignoring the very aggressive grindylow inside, ramming itself up against the glass. "A grindylow," she said drolly, "Is a type of water demon, as you can see. They are classified as Dark creatures because they've been known to kill humans, although they're only really a serious threat towards muggles and young children. However, merpeople are capable of taming them and sometimes keep them as pets. Grindylows feed on algae and fish, and typically live at the bottom of lakes in Great Britain, among the weeds. Their teeth and horns are not what you need to watch out for, rather, it's their fingers. They use them to strangle their prey underwater, so the trick to escaping one is to break their grip, usually with a simple revulsion jinx, which will fire boiling water at them underwater." She gestured at the tank. "You should all come up and take a look at this one before leaving, so you know what they look like."
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. |
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Posted: Fri Dec 15, 2017 2:30 pm
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Faina Patrovna-Harcroft
Slytherin │ Third Year │ Thirteen Years Old │ Single
After facing a boggart, Faina was a might uncomfortable afterward, having nightmares about her encounter for nearly a week afterward. She wasn't sure if she'd proven in her own heart she wasn't weak, or simply managed to bull her way through the encounter. It was a question she was unsure whom to approach with, though she figured Madam Cohen was a better choice than her Head of House or any of her Housemates.
The grindylow, while nasty looking wasn't as scary as the boggart, thankfully, but then it was a lake monster, not the embodiment of one's worst fears. After taking down the lecture notes, Faina took the oppourtunity to get out her sketchbook and start drawing what she saw. As she worked, she asked, "Madam Professeur, are grindylow related to the Vodyanoy of Russian legend? My grandmother's told me stories of them, they inhabit lakes and rivers like grindylow do."
"Precious and fragile things, need special handling
My God what have we done to you?
We always try to share, the tenderest of care
Now look what we have put you through
Things get damaged, things get broken
I thought we'd manage, but words left unspoken
Left us so brittle, there was so little left to give "
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The Forgotten Weasley Crew
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Posted: Mon Feb 12, 2018 10:44 am
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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 third 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 Fanchon Cohen, and 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." She scanned the class for a moment. "Well, you are third years now, so I expect to be impressed. My wand is here," she raised her hand. "First person to disarm me will earn their house ten points."
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. |
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