Duties, Deputies and Dealings - Open, Maddox

[Professor Selwyn]

(OOC: Her intro is located here, at the bottom:
lookingfortrouble.proboards.com/index.cgi?board=profsub&action=display&thread=275)

“It’ll be alright, she says.” The professor mumbled under her breath, green-hazel eyes scanning the parchments she held in her hands. “I’m sure you’re capable of these few tasks, she says.” She put away the wad of parchment onto a shelf with all the other papers that the Headmistress had given her. That particular wad though, was the schedule she had used for the Sorting Feast earlier. As the Deputy Headmistress, she had to be the one who led the Sorting Ceremony, gathering the First Years and calling their names, all that kind of stuff. It was tiring and annoying and just plain boring. Not to mention that the schedule had been Owled to her late, just last evening! Thank goodness she didn’t need it anymore, unless she planned to stay for next year. Which she probably would, considering how well the summer had went.

Lynnette was a simple person when it came to things that she enjoyed. The casualness of the castle as well as the luxuries provided were lovely, not to mention the constant history around her. She had spent a great part of her summer moving in and connecting with the castle and its magic; there was so much to see and explore! She felt like a little kid every time she looked past physical sight and into Aura Reading. But she didn’t do that often, especially now that there were students in the school. It would be unwise for her to appear dazed as a professor. Clearly, to previous Divinations Professor had not understood this.

Thankfully, Lynn had moved out all of Trelawney's things from the North Tower classroom, which was the next room down from her office. The decoration around the room were distraction, and held almost no magical purpose whatsoever. The scent was terrible as well, and the only effect it had on the students were to make them sleepy. She had to cast spells and charms to remove the smell, and even now there was still a lingering hint of it in the air. There was none of it in this room.

She had also gathered the things from the Arithmancy and Ancient Runes classrooms, teaching items. There were now two empty classroom on the sixth and seventh floors, and the tower's classroom had been expanded. The relatively young woman had also removed the ridiculous rickety ladder and a stairway was provided by the school. The entire tower felt cleaner, fresher, and much more modern after she had finished renovating. She hoped the students would like the change, if not the subject.

The entire time Lynn had been pondering the past summer, she had been clearing up the messes around the room, and now the desk was finally clean of parchments and notes. She sighed, tired from the feast and the brief patrolling session she had had. Perhaps she would call a house-elf in a few minutes for some tea and take a break, reading a book or Reading what would happen on her first day of classes. You never know, with all this wild, rambunctious magic at Hogwarts.

(OOC: If that made no sense, then it's okay, since it made no sense to me, either. I think the majority was BS and changing up/describing the setting. Make what you will of it.)

[Professor Maddox]

"Damn it all, where did it go?"

A few spells whizzed across the room, followed shortly by a rambunctious parakeet that had escaped his cage. Poking his head out of his office after it, Mal rolled his eyes and summoned it back with a flick of his wand, slamming the cage door shut after it. "Don't even think about it." he warned the bird, eying it suspiciously. He wasn't sure why the thing was adamant on escaping-- after all, life as a cactus was not a horrible one, and his third years needed practice with animal-to-object transfiguration after last years incident with the poorly transfigured snapping turtle tea set.

Some prankster had stolen the lot of them after class and set them loose in the Great Hall during lunch. Needless to say, a lot of bloody noses and fingers later, he had been heavily scolded by the Headmistress. He sighed outwardly, giving the bird another glare before stepping out of his office and into the corridor.

He was happy to be back at Hogwarts--like most of the student body and not as many teachers-- despite the extra work it entailed. His summer had been stressful at best, and his time spent writing a rather fruitless endeavor. He had been plagued with nightmares-- something particularly unusual for him, and these had acted as a block to his muse. However, he was hoping that now he was back at Hogwarts he could get a little help with that. After all, it paid to have a certified Seer on the staff.

He made his way up to the Divination tower, noting that the corridors seemed rather empty. This made sense-- after all, most of the houses threw a beginning of term celebration to start of the new year, something he missed a bit about being a student. But he was far past his teenage years, though his heart still longed and held tightly to his freedom, what ever form it may take.

Reaching her office, he knocked solidly on the door before gently pushing it open. "Sorry to bother you Lynn." he said with a grin, finding her at her desk, "But I was wondering if I can ask you something, if you're not too busy." He knew she had her duties and such, but hoped that since the feast was over, she would have a little less off her plate.

[Professor Selwyn]

She had just managed to sit down and was about to call for a house-elf when there was a knock on the wooden door of her office, and a man stepped in. With his hair groomed in such a fashion, the wizard was easy to recognize.

"Professor Maddox!" She exclaimed quietly, surprised. "What a surprise to see you here at this hour, and up here as well." Her eyebrows furrowed a bit. She was intrigued at his request; they were only colleagues, after all.

"I happen to be free at the moment, so please, take a seat." Lynn motioned a small hand at the chair across from her own. She called the house-elf, finally, and soon there were two steaming cups of tea on the table.

"Drink some of that and ask your question. I dare say it has to do with one of my subjects?" She titled her head to one side, a lock of curly hair falling to the side of her face, and she paused to push it behind her ear. Suddenly she was just so much more awake, and the change in the Transfiguration Professor's aura became a little more evident. Her hazel eyes glittered as she saw this.

[Professor Maddox]

Mal smiled politely, and sat down in the chair across from her, accepting the cup of tea from the house elf. House elves had always sort of freaked him out, not being brought up around them as a child. Their big bulgy eyes kind of freaked him out as well. He gave the little thing a polite 'thank you', slightly mesmerized by it's large eyes.

Blinking, he turned back to Lynn, taking a obligatory sip of his tea before continuing. "First off, it's Mal. Not Professor Maddox. We're not in front of any students or anything, so need to be so formal. At the very least, you can call me Maddox." he said, waiving his hand in a sort of dismissive fashion, as if to shoo away all the formality that was lying heavy in the air.

"And as for my problem, why yes, it does involve an area of your expertise. I assumed for the entire summer that it was nothing to worry about, but I figured you'd be the one to ask." He set his tea cup down in front of him, and leaned forward, biting his lip and think of the right words.

"I had this recurring dream all throughout the summer-- not so much a dream than a nightmare." He paused, as if to allow the mystery of his problem to fill the whole room. He had always been a bit of a dramatic type, and couldn't help creating a bit of an atmosphere at the moment.

"As you know, I'm a writer in my free time," he said, half hoping that she did know that, "and in my dream I am sitting at my typewriter, trying to write a story. But every time I begin to type, the ink swells the page and then begins to engulf me until I can't breath. I try clawing towards the light, but then I'm pulled in and I wake up gasping for air." He finished, pausing slightly, sounding sort of out of breath.

"I'm wondering... Well, I'm wondering what it's supposed to mean?"

[Professor Selwyn]

She took a sip from her own tea cup, and held it lightly, watching the leaves swirl in the water. It wasn't strong, which was just how she liked it. She inclined her head at the other professor's request to call him something other than 'Professor Maddox', and finished restraining her giggle when she caught him staring at the house-elf.

"Alright then, Mal." She acquiesced, and looked up surprised when he said that a recurring nightmare had been bothering him ever since the beginning of the summer. She allowed herself to see his aura and watched it flare in agitation. Lynn was aware that if the man looked closely at her eyes, he might catch that she wasn't really looking anywhere.

She was definitely listening to him though, so when he said he was a writer in his spare time, she actually was surprised and raised a fine eyebrow. As much as she liked knowing about other people's history and secrets, even, she never did Readings of them without their permission - not to mention that it was bloody hard to do so without the subject participating.

The actual dream - a vision, or a warning, most likely - was intriguing. There wasn't so much detail, and she knew she would have to ask questions, but the feelings and mood she got from his words and aura were...erratic?

"I can't exactly tell you what the dream means without you giving more details, if you can. For example, what colour was the ink? What are you feeling when you wake up? Like, emotionally exhausted? Sad? And any other minor details could be helpful." She said, her gaze returning to focus physically on the Transfiguration Professor.

[Professor Maddox]

Mal pursed his lips to one side, a thing he did when trying to remember something important. Though the dream had repeated itself often in his mind, it was hard to always remember the details. It was more the feeling the dream gave him, a feeling of hopelessness and despair.

He was relatively happy she had called him Mal though, a symbol of familarity that he was hoping would form between them. He leaned back in his chair, looking at her eyes. It was odd, he noted-- she was looking at him, but wasn't. He couldn't quite describe it, but it was almost like she was looking past him, to something else. But he supposed it was to be suspected of a Seer such as Lynn.

"Well it was black." he said, sort of shrugging. "The ink I use is always black, and it seemed so real, so the ink must have been black. That's all I could see at the end of the dream, at least. And waking up?" His brows furrowed, as if trying to find the right words.

"Despair. Helplessness." He said, almost quietly. "And my muse was completely gone." He added with a small smile

[Professor Selwyn]

She did not know quite what to say, right now. He had been thinking, trying to remember the details of the dream, obviously, but it proved to be a nightmare alright if that flash of aura meant anything. She wasn’t even trying, after all – he had caught her faraway look. Once again, it would do her no good if people thought her as insane and out of it as Trelawney had been. Lynn really really didn’t like Sybill Trelawney, but no one would ever know.

She chuckled a bit when he finished describing what he remembered. His muse was gone, indeed. She knew the meanings of that, and vaguely of the things he said before it. “Well, how would I begin to say this?” She turned in her chair, looking out the arching window. The sun had set already, and the stars were coming out. It looked like a nice night outside.

“You say the ink and the darkness that swallowed you in the end was black, not just dark. As much as I don’t like to say this, but there is Black magic at work, and not just the Dark side of the Balance. However, Black magic isn’t necessarily evil.” She paused, realizing she was almost rambling, and having not explained why she simply jumped to magic and not some other reason.

“I say magic right now, because this dream, this nightmare you have been having over and over this past summer...You may be having a vision, considering its constancy and the feeling of despair and hopelessness. Considering your blood status, it might be a result from the war, to produce the black colour and those particular feelings, but I fear that this may be more.” She nodded to herself, still staring outside. The wind swept against the trees of the Forbidden Forest, and shadows danced all along the ground.

She turned to Malcolm. “Don’t mind me if I jump around this subject. This isn’t a very smooth and fluid work.” She closed her eyes, thinking. She eventually spoke again, her eyes still closed.

“Despair and hopelessness could be a result of whatever the magic may cause, for you especially. The loss of your muse, I have concluded, is that you have no idea what to do, or are simply unable to do anything about whatever it is, unless an outsider, someone different, helps you out.” She then opened her eyes, remembering one last question.

“Was there anything on the paper? Were there runes or symbols or words? This may be able to help, if you have the information. If my magic theory is true, possible images on the paper could help us identify if it really is or not, or even what is happening, or a solution. Anything is possible, remember that.” She looked him in the eye, the white sparks of her usual hazel eyes flashing weirdly.

[Professor Maddox]

Mal was practically hanging onto her words.

Though he had been a recognized wizard for more than half of his life, he still found things like this absolutely fascinating. Growing up as a muggle, he would have simply assumed that this was a psychological reflection of something or another-- something he would have gone to a psychologist or something to that affect to find out about. But here, it was a valid possibility that he was having visions. The idea was incredibly to him.

"You think it might be a vision? That's..." He wanted to say 'awesome', or 'cool', but he was a Professor after all, and shouldn't make a fool of himsel in front of another professor. "Interesting." he finished, rather lamely, he thought.

Her suggestion that it might be foreshadowing for a 'black magic' made him frowned slightly. He couldn't possibly think of any sort of magic in his life-- for the most part, he lived as a muggle when not at hogwarts, besides some obvious conviniences that magic provided. He had never made any enemies-- there were some in his school years that disliked him because of his blood status, and he felt strongly that he was just as much a wizard as they were. But there was no one he could think of who would be out to get him.

She spoke for a moment about it not being a fluid or smooth art, and he nodded, saying "No, I understand. I think it's all really interesting. I wish I knew more about it." he admitted, shrugging, a small smile pulling at his lips.

When she asked about the paper, he struggled again to remember. "I can't really remember." he said, almost disappointedly. "When I write, it sort of just flows out of me, like it's whatever I'm thinking." he tried to explain. "I wish I could be a little more helpful." he apologized, giving a bit of an apologetic and nervous laugh.

He caught a glance of something flashing when she opened her eyes, and was a little surprised. She seemed so surreal to him, and he was almost jealous of her innate magical talent. While his subject was all about practice and discipline, hers was all about having a true gift.

[Professor Selwyn]

She laughed aloud quietly, for his words had amused her. “Interesting?” Lynn repeated, certainly teasing. “I would have thought you would have said ‘awesome’, honestly, since having visions aren’t common and interesting simply isn’t enough to sum this up.” She watched him smile a little, and had to smile back. It was always nice to have an attentive, interested and intrigued student. He had a rather good chance of being a Seer himself right now, as repeating dreams were a huge sign. The young woman preferred being a Reader, though, in comparison to the Transfiguration Professor and one of her friends back in Canada.

“This subject is very captivating, once you get into it and see how things connect. Truly, you have to have patience with Divination, particularly, since all of its results come with time. When I ask questions, for example, it is only to fuel your mind to go looking, but while you may not remember anything right this moment, it may come to you on a later date. And of course, we go from there.” She looked at him carefully and at his apologetic expression. “So please, do not apologize for not being able to remember now or even ever. This little tidbit, especially the ink, is already very useful to us.”

She fiddled with her cup of tea for a moment – it was almost completely cool now, so she took a larger sip. The previously settled leaves swished in the cup; there was still some left. She would have to do the tea reading a little later, Lynn supposed. Staring into the cup, and at the glare of the light that reflected off of the water, she opened her mouth to speak again.

“The other way of looking at your reoccurring dream is a textbook’s explanation, which isn’t as accurate as an understanding generated by feelings, Reading knowledge, and advanced skills in this field.” She set down the teacup onto its plate, and grabbed the book that sat at the edge of the desk. It was rather worn, and in a light brown binding with black lettering on the front, with the title: Basic Dream Definitions. She cracked it open, and flipped through it rapidly with a familiar feel, eventually stopping at a page in the first half of the tome.

“So here it tells you, ink represents creativity, which makes sense since you were trying to write whatever you wanted to write. But if it is spilled, which somewhat resembles you dream, that means there is a minor problem with something.” She hand him the book, with the book still open to the page.

(OOC: Dream Moods Dictionary, look up the definition for Ink. Google it! xD)

[Professor Maddox]

Mal gave a small chuckle, nodding slightly. "All right, it is pretty awesome." he admitted, taking the book from her hand and reading the section she had provided for him. It seemed to make sense, though he still felt a 'minor problem' didn't sum up how he felt within the dream. She had said, however, that it wasn't an exact science.

He was used to things being precise in his own subject, so perhaps he had to have more patience about these sort of things. He really did enjoy his subject-- something about being able to change one thing to another, that there was always some sort of connection. Perhaps this was why he had struggled with Divination at school-- but then again he had that crackpot Trelawney as a teacher when he went to school. Handing the book back to her, he finished his tea rather quickly, glancing down at his cup.

The soggy leaves formed random patterns on the bottom of his cup. He remembered vaguely his first Divination lesson all those years ago, not being able to see any of the shapes described in his textbook or by Trelawney in his partners cup. He sighed, placing it on the table.

"I'm rather envious that this all makes sense to you. To be honest, I was turned off to the whole Divination thing when I was in school." he cracked a sheepish smile. "Now I wish I had paid more attention. I wouldn't have had to bother you with these things."

[Professor Selwyn]

She set the brown book back down onto its original spot on the medium-sized desk, and drained her own teacup of its remaining liquid. She didn’t dare glance at it yet; instead, she set her cup aside and cast a neutral stasis spell on it, and repeated the actions with Malcolm’s empty cup. The neutral stasis spell was a very useful charm to know – it took magic from the area to generate a field of magical stasis around whatever the charm was cast on. Thus, when she would return to the cups later, preferably when the other professor was gone, she would still be able to tell whose cup was whose, and that the tea leaves would not dry up and loose its Divination significance.

All the while she was doing this, she was listening with only one ear to what the man was saying. She heard the last few sentences, and the gist of the first few. “It’s not much to be envious of, really. In the end, you are born with the innate skill, or spend years and years training in this one singular branch of magic, which isn’t that helpful in the long run, in comparison to say, your Transfiguration abilities.” She turned to look at him, taking in the shape and build of his figure, the smaller details like his hair and eyes, and finally his magic and aura. Both were strong, the former which should be considering his profession, though the aura was a slight bother now that Mal had been made aware of the possibility of a danger in the future.

“And it wouldn’t have done you that much good had you paid more attention, since your professor was Sybill Trelawney, right? She isn’t exactly the best example of a good Seer or Reader. She actually is a rather weak Prophet; occasionally she says a few predictions, but that is just about it. That isn’t the making of a good, powerful Prophet. She is defined a Prophet, of course, since she has made a minimum of two prophecies in her lifetime so far, but her general Divination power was simply not enough.” She was on a roll with the subject of Trelawney – how she despised the woman, really. True, the old crone had some Divination ability, but only enough to impress the weaker minds of children. And muggles, that.

“Was there anything else that you wanted me to look into? After all, my evening is currently free, and considering how we’re starting class tomorrow, they won’t be after tonight. You aren’t bothering me after all, as you say it.” She chuckled lightly.