- Messages
- 4,583
- OOC First Name
- Camilla
- Blood Status
- Muggleborn
- Relationship Status
- Single (Not Looking)
- Wand
- Curly 13" Rigid Pine Wand, Meteorite Dust Core
- Age
- 20 (21/9/2043)
For two lessons in a row, Aine had failed to perform the stunning spell. She'd been paired with a smug looking Ravenclaw boy - Valerius, that was his name, wasn't it? - who she was sure was looking down on her for not being very good at magic. But even if he was looking down on her, she had no real desire to attack him with a spell. Sure, he'd almost certainly block it even if she was able to hit a full power spell. Logically, she knew that. Emotionally, however, she didn't want to handle the risk of something going wrong. Wouldn't it make things worse if she actually hit someone? What kind of person would attack a twelve year old, anyway? Surely she didn't need to have to be able to use magical weaponry at this age. When she was a bit older, maybe (and that would certainly be a problem for future Aine). But something about it just felt...wrong.
Still, she had to try and at least do the spell. She'd looked around for a quiet place to practice and found the empty classroom. There were duelling chambers in the dungeons, something she was vaguely aware of, but she'd rather not have run in to anybody. So instead, she had to content herself with throwing the spell at a chair. "Stupefy," she grumbled, mostly annoyed that she was continually failing to do poorly at spellcraft. The chair was hit by the feeble light, scraping across the ground with an awful sound that made Aine wince in agony. "Sorry," she muttered, reflexively, even though the room was seemingly empty. One day she'd break the habit of apologizing for everything. That day was seemingly not today.
Still, she had to try and at least do the spell. She'd looked around for a quiet place to practice and found the empty classroom. There were duelling chambers in the dungeons, something she was vaguely aware of, but she'd rather not have run in to anybody. So instead, she had to content herself with throwing the spell at a chair. "Stupefy," she grumbled, mostly annoyed that she was continually failing to do poorly at spellcraft. The chair was hit by the feeble light, scraping across the ground with an awful sound that made Aine wince in agony. "Sorry," she muttered, reflexively, even though the room was seemingly empty. One day she'd break the habit of apologizing for everything. That day was seemingly not today.