Quote:
Originally Posted by
Charely Potter 
Hermione smiled, "Thank you, Professor. I think so too." She couldn't agree more. While she still had much to learn, she truly considered herself a student and child of the stars. She took down the notes, and began mouthing Memorae Lucentia, noting the pronunciation as MEH-mor-eye loo-SEN-tee-ah. It was very lucrative information and instructions worth memorizing, and not just for the O.W.Ls she was doomed expected to take.
Hermione looked at Kritti, thinking that her memory would probably involve her brother in some fashion, but she would ask later. So from the instructions, Hermione won't be using the bow just yet. So she set it down, before she could tuck the violin under her chin, she held the wand in her non-dominant left hand. Aiming the wand at the Violin, she whispered, "Memorae Lucentia..." Like a secret. Before swiftly holding the Violin in the proper position, chin on the bottom black portion, left arm slightly bent at the elbow.
Hermione thought about the summer while plucking the stings. Her special friend had gone away to India for a trip with their family. Before he left, she gave him a pleasant goodbye on the lips before running off, leaving him with that gift of hers. She had a mix of desperation, relief, and anxiety in the moment but in hindsight, warmth at the end result when he returned from the month-long trip. That was when she tilted the bow and ran it along the violin to hopefully produce a pleasant sound.
It begins with a stillness. The violin in your arms hums and wisps of aurora rise. They come in a slow swirl of rainbowed light—muted, melancholic hues of lavender and dusky rose, pale seafoam, and hints of faded gold. The candles nearest you flicker and, one by one, their flames gutter out as they fall to the floor in splashes of hot wax. A couple snap in two upon impact while some roll across the classroom floor and out of sight beneath a cabinet or astronomical device.
The ribbons of light drift close. One brushes your cheek like a memory you hadn’t meant to share aloud, another curls around your wrist like a bracelet spun from emotion… and then the spell collapses. Not broken. Just… spent.
There is power in the vulnerability you offered. Perhaps if you let the memory unfold more slowly as you recall it, casting the spell from the stillness of precise moments, the magic will spare the remaining candles in the classroom. You’re closer than you think.
Quote:
Originally Posted by
WhittyBitty Rory smiled. ”Thanks, Professor. I agree. I’ve always wanted to play the violin.” And now she got the chance to use one, because it had spoken to her.
She continued to take notes, fascinated about what she was learning. She hadn’t known about any of this before, so it was all brand new information to her. When she was finished with her notes, she got ready to practice. Since she was ambidextrous, it didn’t really matter which hands she used. But she preferred using the left one, so she supposed that could be used as her dominant hand.
Which memory should she choose?
Rory honestly had no idea. She thought hard about it for a few moments before something came to her. It was about a week or so after she started school here. She had been wandering around the grounds and decided to check out the Forbidden Forest. She had walked inside, curious, but hadn’t made it too far before she heard a noise nearby. Worried, she had rushed out and back to to castle. It had definitely been an unnerving experience given the forest’s reputation! But it had also been exciting. Exhilarating.
”MEH-mor-eye loo-SEN-tee-ah… MEH-mor-eye loo-SEN-tee-ah…” she repeated to herself until she felt she had the spell pronounced properly. Then she picked up her wand with her right hand and pointed it at the violin. She plucked a few of the strings with her left hand. ” Memorae Lucentia,” she spoke softly, the memory vivid in her mind.
A flicker. A buzz. A flash of something just barely there—like lightning caged in glass.
The violin hums beneath your fingers and for the briefest of seconds something answered. Thin wisps of aquamarine light crack through the air like sparks from a firework, short-lived and sharp-edged. They dart up and disappear just as quickly, like startled birds taking flight. The temperature spikes ever so slightly around you in a momentary flush of heat.
It wasn’t a failure, not exactly. But it wasn’t quite success either.
This spell thrives on emotional resonance and while this memory shimmers with sensory detail and thrill, perhaps it is a lack of a deeper tether to self that is holding the resonance back. Try again, dear one. Think more intimately, perhaps, on why you chose this one out of all your memories. Or perhaps trial a different one entirely. The choice is yours and you are nearly there…