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 Posted: Wed Apr 20, 2011 2:03 pm
Lena
Lena smiled and left the classroom to put her school uniform back instead of her muggle dress. When she returned, she went back to her seat and began to read a book as she waited for the class to end.
Fourth Year Gryffindor
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Posted: Thu Apr 21, 2011 4:46 pm
((So, like, diary how? Just write something down for about what happened in the fictional character's life once a day for a week? And what area, like Greece or Rome, or can we do it in England or something?))
Blaine walked quickly into the classroom. She hoped the professor hadn't noticed she hadn't been there the past few days. Of course, with so few students, it was hard not to. She immediately sat down her stuff and got to work on creating the character. Definitely female, she decided. Then she thought about how the character's life would be like. A worker. Definitely a worker, she thought. Her quill flew across the parchment as she thought of ideas.
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Posted: Sat Apr 23, 2011 5:40 pm
Chevalresque “He lives the poetry that he cannot write. The others write the poetry that they dare not realise.” - Oscar Wilde (Isn't it turning into some version of Beastly ? lol.)
Nathaniel looked at the sheet. He knew it was time to end their story, or else they'd never finish. "Well, he gets punished because he only thought of himself when doing a good deed. It's supposed to be a selfless act. Since he looks so awful, it's time for him to get back to normal. I just want this to get done soon." With the truth being said, Nathaniel wrote the end.
Once upon a time, there was a boy.
Hero, that's what he wanted to be.
Looking for something he devised his ploy,
To become all would plea.
And so he headed on his way,
Hoping he'd do okay.
From under a rock, he heard a yelp.
"Yes, a cry for help !"
-------
He moved the rock away from the man
As he did he thought up a plan
But one look and a glance down
His face became a rather large frown
This had been no man he was set to save
But something that belonged in a cave
It's skin was all wrong and leathery to boot
His feet looked like a tree, that had taken to root.
-------
"Avast ! Who's there to disturb me ?"
"Weren't you stuck under this stone ?"
"No, but look at you,
All young, all wrong; not even true !"
Boy looked at it in distress,
Wondering how he got into this mess.
"Trying to gain honor, rescuing a monster ?
I'm not a damsel, I'm a disaster !"
With that said, he punished the lad,
Since the boy wanted fame,
The creature gave him game.
Wouldn't that be rad ?
---
His punishment was indeed quite horrible
The creature had made him look rather deplorable
Like this he could never be the best
It made him feel oh so depressed
The villagers would throw a fit
Because he had to admit
None would accept help from one such as him
The truth made his life start to look so grim
What was he to do
His dream was now threw
And now feeling rather down
He only hoped to not be thrown out of the town
---
He hid his face under a hood,
He got back to his neighborhood.
"Stranger, could you deliver these ?"
"Fine, as if I had someone to please."
Glum, he headed to an inn
"Ah ! Where has this been ?"
Said the keeper, in glee.
"This is what someone gave me."
"Ummm. Nathaniel wondered. "What did the stranger give to the boy ? Aargh. This is really hard. I really wanna get this poem finished. Can you write the ending ? I'm emptied." he admitted.
₦ᎪᏆ♅Ꭺ₦ᎥᎬᏞ ᎳᎪᏒᎠ - 2ℕᎠ ᎽᎬᎪᏒ  Egg biggrin
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Posted: Sun Apr 24, 2011 5:05 pm
 Gryffindor Prefect
Sparrow----Gryffindor ----3rdyear
Gryffinclaw Quidditch Captain
And Seeker
Sparrow ran to class hoping she would not be late and she quickly slowed down as she approached the door not wanting to be seen running. She entered the classroom holding one of her sketch boards in between a large folder. She set her things down at her desk before taking her drawing of the evolution cycle and going up to the Professor. She handed it to her and said, "I got a little carried away and added some pizazz to it. Just some night vision I hope you don't mind." She handed it to her hoping it was alright. Sparrow hadn't even realized she had added that until it was already partially done and too late to fix, so she had continued and finished it that way.
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Sparrow Puppy Vice Captain
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Posted: Mon Apr 25, 2011 3:24 pm
 "Gracias Senorita Sparrow," said Catalina softly. Turning to the rest of the class, she declared, "That is all for this lesson. Please turn in what you have and return for your next assignment manana."
She waved the class away with lily-white hands. (Sorry Aldaron! You can choose whatever area you like. And it's only for one entry.)
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Posted: Mon Apr 25, 2011 4:06 pm
Ghaleon Elmerast, Ravenclaw, 2nd Year
Ghaleon looked a bit sickly as he was about to read off his report. He hated doing things like this. Spell work was one thing to be doing in front of people. But reading reports always gave him a large dose of 'stage fright'.'Professor Newton Artemis Fido Scamander, was a famed Magizoologist and author of Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them. Influenced by his mother's breeding of hippogriphs, he developed an interest in animals early in life. After graduating Hogwarts he joined the Ministry, two years into the his office of House-Elf Relocation he joined the Beast Division where he put the main sum of his knowledge to good use. In 1918, Scamander was commissioned to write 'Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them'. The book became a best seller, making the author a respected expert in the field of Magizoology. This in turn lead him to become appointed Headmaster of Hogwarts. He eventually married a woman by the name of Porpentina, they were known to have at least one child. By the 1990s Scamander was retired and living in Dorest, eventually passing between 31st of July 1991 and the 18th of December 1992. (No reason given for why the date of his death is so broad, and isn't completely known.) Like all headmaster's his portrait now hangs in the Headmaster's Office in Hogwarts.' Ghaleon looked a little drained after he was finished, never liking oral reports. He'd omitted the bit about the Lovegood girl marrying Scamander's grandson, feeling that it had absolutely nothing to do with the the actual man he was writing about.
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Posted: Mon Apr 25, 2011 7:22 pm
((Got it. Thanks. smile ))
Blaine put a few finishing touches on her character's journal entry before turning it in. She set in on the professor's desk with a satisfied smile, but her smile disappeared as she wondered where Amelia and Ginny were. They hadn't been to class in a while, or so it seemed. Ah well. It's not your business to worry about them, she thought to herself.
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Posted: Mon Apr 25, 2011 7:36 pm
Elizabeth's Journal
March 18, 1098
Today was horrible. I had to work harder than ever because Jonathan was sick and Mother had to take care of him. Father was annoyed because Sir James left for the Crusades and left his entire estate in charge of his sixteen-year-old son. The very same sixteen-year-old son that has been staring at me whenever he passes by where I am working. It is horrible. Margaret is nice, of course. She helped me with my work, and I helped her with hers. We both had extra time to talk when we finished. No one else ever bothered to help me with my work before. I hope she will not get in trouble. She is too nice. Christopher, Sir James' second son, helps some people sometimes, but not very often. He usually gets in trouble whenever he does. Well, I must go. Mother is yelling at me to get some herbs for Jonathan. I will write in you soon, I promise.
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Posted: Tue Apr 26, 2011 3:35 pm
Grading the last two assignments, Catalina recorded the grades, and began to prepare the room for the next lesson. Her azure eyes searched in vain for chalk amongst the dust, and sighing, she realized she needed to find the teacher's lounge. That was likely to be where the spare chalk was stockpiled.
Catalina made a face. Time to introduce herself to the other professors as well. She had always been aloof, even during her time as a student at Hogwarts. She was not shy, but rather snobbish at times. Catalina Constanza would much rather keep to herself than mingle amongst the rabble.
Sighing once again, Catalina picked up her Ivy wand and silently flicked her wand until golden letters ballooned out of the tip and floated in the air, perfectly poised, and not likely to deflate. First years: This week you will read from the muggle textbooks I have provided about the Renaissance in Europe. You will use inductive reasoning to write an essay about how this rebirth of interest in classical ideas also effected wizards. How did the world change for them?
Second years: This week you will go to the library again into the muggle section. I want you to select a poem written by a muggle author and find its meaning. You will then provide the poem and write a two paragraph essay about the poem and how it applies to the life of a wizard.
Third years: This week you will read the muggle textbooks I have provided about atoms. You will then write a two paragraph essay on what they are, and how you think this information applies to wizards. Are we made of and interact with atoms too?
Fourth years: This week you will look in the magazines I have provided and find an outfit that a muggle might wear when going to work. Generally, these are called suits. Provide a picture of the outfit you chose and write a two paragraph essay on it and how it differs from wizarding work clothes.
This assignment is due domingo, 1 mayo.
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Posted: Wed Apr 27, 2011 1:06 pm
Blaine read the assignment in dismay. Inductive reasoning? She didn't even know what it was, let alone use it! She got out a piece of parchment and stared at it before thinking of going through the textbooks the professor had. What on earth am I going to do about it? Should I just not do it? Blaine shook her head at the idea. She had to do it. It was homework. She continued to turn the pages even though her mind was wandering.
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Posted: Wed Apr 27, 2011 2:02 pm
Leaving the slightly bewildered Blaine to fend for herself, Catalina excused herself to procure chalk from the teacher's lounge. It was class time, so the probability of running into any colleagues was slim to none.
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Posted: Fri Apr 29, 2011 1:21 pm
“He lives the poetry that he cannot write. The others write the poetry that they dare not realise.” - Oscar Wilde When Nathaniel entered the class, he couldn't help but give himself a slap on the forehead. He'd completely forgot about the second assignment, where he had to write a two paragraphs essay about wizard authors. He glanced at the board, grimacing at the new essay to write. A poem ? God. He just finished writing one two lessons ago and he had to go through it again... Nathaniel, a romantic at heart, might have ideas but sometimes writer's block was just going to kill him. He wondered when classes would really start. You know, something that wasn't about writing text but actually having lessons on something. Muggle studies. What were they studying about muggles ? Greetings, eye-contact, countries... He was born muggle, so he knew all about it. But what about the other students ? Writing texts was only avoiding the real deal.
He wished hard for something more class-like than just curling his back over a parchment with a quill in hand. Nathaniel sighed and walked towards the teacher. "Excuse me professor. I forgot to write the previous assignment; may I still hand it over as well as the new one por favor?" he looked nervous but tried to hide it. "I was thinking, could we have more interactive classes ? Giving us a lesson ? All these research must land us somewhere..." Nathaniel stood there, awaiting a response to his request.
₦ᎪᏆ♅Ꭺ₦ᎥᎬᏞ ᎳᎪᏒᎠ - 2ℕᎠ ᎽᎬᎪᏒ
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Posted: Fri Apr 29, 2011 1:42 pm
(Erm...I'm not in the classroom right now. Read the post above yours.)
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Posted: Sat Apr 30, 2011 4:37 am
“He lives the poetry that he cannot write. The others write the poetry that they dare not realise.” - Oscar Wilde (Ah. Sorry)
Nathaniel had been sulking a bit. He didn't even notice his teacher was on the leave and was currently talking to mid-air. When he finally stared into his teacher's eyes, he was surprised to not even see her. **Oh. I should ask her again when she'll return then** Still, he would do the current assignment.
Assignment: Wizarding Authors; Rita Skeeter
Famous for her book "Life and Lies of Albus Dumbledore" and previously "Armando Dippet; Master or Moron ?", she's really the most controversial author yet. Reporter for the Daily Prophet, she is despised by the ones she interviews; known for her Quick-Quotes quill full of innuendoes and veiled accusations. She's a thick-headed character, especially because her fierce way of investigating. Rita Skeeter was a reporter at the Death Eater trials after the first fall of the Dark Lord, covered 1995 Triwizard Tournament, wrote an interesting article in "The Quibbler" before finishing with the biography of Dumbledore. Some accused her of using Veritaserum on Bathilda Bagshot and stealing photographs; not very ethical if you'd see it from a muggles point of view. Her writing expresses wonderfully her character.
"Enchantingly nasty." has commented Dumbledore before his departure into the world beyond. It is unknown how Rita Skeeter's past forged her into the person she is now. I'd compare her to the muggle's paparazzi. A buzzing, incessant bug who won't let herself get squished no matter what for the pure fun of discovering the dirtiest of dirt. Even more special if you check out the chinese word for paparazzi which translates to "puppy squad". Sweet, innocent but with a fierce bite. I doubt the qualities of her Quick-Notes Quill as it will advantage any aspect of Mrs.Skeeter while twisting the pure form of her interviewee. Enchanted ? That is it. Nasty ? You have no idea.
All in all, muggles and wizards write for the same reasons. Be it to entertain the masses, inform them with guide and schoolbooks as well as newspapers. Authors are a great source of information, even if some won't look as reliable.
Assignment: Muggle Poetry
A Dream Within A Dream by Edgar Allan Poe
Take this kiss upon the brow!
And, in parting from you now,
Thus much let me avow--
You are not wrong, who deem
That my days have been a dream;
Yet if hope has flown away
In a night, or in a day,
In a vision, or in none,
Is it therefore the less gone?
All that we see or seem
Is but a dream within a dream.
I stand amid the roar
Of a surf-tormented shore,
And I hold within my hand
Grains of the golden sand--
How few! yet how they creep
Through my fingers to the deep,
While I weep--while I weep!
O God! can I not grasp
Them with a tighter clasp?
O God! can I not save
One from the pitiless wave?
Is all that we see or seem
But a dream within a dream?
This poem was written as it reflects Poe's feelings about his life at the time, dramatizing his confusion in watching the important things in his life slip away. Realizing he cannot hold onto even one grain of sand leads to his final question that all things are a dream. The poem's recurrent question is: "Is all that we see or seem but a dream within a dream?" Being able to distinguish between reality or fantasy. From a muggle's point of view, our wizarding world would be utter fantasy while it is our reality. Muggles will dream about magic, flying objects, dragons while for wizards they are common things or dangers. In a sense, muggles are lucky that they think of it of a dream. Not being aware makes them innocent. When a catastrophe of the wizarding world steps inside theirs, they'll always find an excuse and move on. We, on the other hand, have to face the "supernatural" problem knowing very well about the enormity of it since it managed to affect muggles.
Wizards. What is our fantasy ? What is it that always escape our grasp ? Even with all our magic, there still things that we cannot do. Create food (not making appear from a known place), money, life. Principal Exceptions to Gamp's Law of Elemental Transfiguration. This poem applies to all; as we all have dreams of our own that we cannot reach.
₦ᎪᏆ♅Ꭺ₦ᎥᎬᏞ ᎳᎪᏒᎠ - 2ℕᎠ ᎽᎬᎪᏒ
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Posted: Sun May 08, 2011 11:29 am
Catalina glided into the room to discover that the class time had elapsed while she was on her adventure. Looking around the room, she became disappointed with the lack of commitment her students were having this week.
"Class dismissed," she said sourly, looking at the pathetic pile of papers to grade on her desk.
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