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The Astronomy Classroom is pleasantly warm tonight, candlelight flickering low as moonlight streams in through the glass dome above and the tall stained-glass windows that surround the circular space. The dome itself, charmed and centuries old, has been enchanted to shift and adjust ever so subtly throughout the seasons—like a great cosmic eye always looking skyward. Tonight, however, something feels ... different. A slender slit has opened in the uppermost section of the dome with starlight pouring through this opening seeming more concentrated than usual. It's as though the dome has become a great magnifying lens—or better yet, a pair of oversized loupe glasses, like those worn by old wandmakers and jewel appraisers. The effect bathes the entire room in a gentle glow—cool silver blended with warm candle-gold—so that despite the late hour, it feels curiously bright and alive, like the cusp of dawn.
Arrayed across a large round wooden table beside the storage closet are string instruments from across the globe—from lyres and lutes to zithers and sitars, from handheld harps to ukuleles—each one's strings catching the candlelight like threads of spun glass. There’s something reverent about their presence, like artifacts displayed in a museum or offerings at a shrine. Very curious to an Astronomy class to be sure.
Professor Burbage floats mid-air near the table, admiring the craftsmanship of the assembled instruments. Her translucent fingers hover just above the curve of a worn banjo, trailing through the air as if stroking the memory of music rather than the instrument itself. A wistful smile ghosts across her face—rare and unguarded. Lullaby time was a sacred ritual in her household once upon a time… her husband’s voice low and sure as he strummed the guitar while seated in the plush chair in the corner of the nursery, their children tucked safe and drowsy beneath patchwork quilts. She doesn’t speak of it, but the memory is stitched into her expression.
"Come in, come in," she trills softly. "Find yourself a seat and settle in. Try not to trip over your own feet."
OOC:class will not officially begin for a bit (somewhere around 24 from the launch of this thread). Your characters can chat among themselves but please do try to keep conversation to a minimum, daaaarlings.Could you also be a dear and title your posts with your character’s name and House? My weary old eyes do have a dreadful tendency to bungle things.
Class has officially begun. Please do not post your character arriving unless you are willing to accept any IC consequences that may come your character's way! You may post as though your character has been present all along and join in at any time
This lesson has concluded. You are free to post and play catch-up however you see fit while it the thread remains open.
♥s her SS family l Wifey is MINE | Naughty Niffler l Whittysaur l #awkwardturtle<#
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.
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…
Ah, young Xerxes. So eager, so earnest, so very first year.
The banjo's single note rang out—a rich, warm sound that seemed to shimmer faintly in the air. For a fleeting moment, the temperature dipped around him—not cold, no, but crisp, like the hush before a snowfall or the breathless stillness of twilight. Above the strings, a barely-there shimmer danced, like the tail-end of an aurora glimpsed through half-closed eyes. It was there……………swirling turquoise and yellow……………and then it wasn’t.
The spell had stirred. Almost. But not quite.
Not because the memory lacked power. Oh no, the memory was radiant, heartfelt, and brimming with the kind of joy that makes stardust sigh. But magic is a language, and you are only just learning its alphabet. The incantation, though whispered earnestly, had frayed at the edges, softened by hesitation and the unfamiliar weight of wand in an unfamiliar hand.
Still, the response was promising. The spell had listened, even if it hadn’t quite obeyed. Even the most harmonious constellation starts with a shaky note. Try again, young one. Allow your banjo to bathe in starlight a bit longer and yourself in the moment at which your memory hinges.
Xerxes watched as the banjo reacted to the spell. But something wasn't quite right, or so he thought. He wasn't exactly sure what WAS supposed to happen, so he couldn't be entirely sure that it hadn't worked. But he just had a feeling that something more waited in store for him.
"What to do now?" he thought to himself. "Perhaps the instrument wasn't properly charged with starlight." Xerxes held the banjo up, high above his head. He let the face of the banjo stare up at domed, glass ceiling of the Astronomy classroom. He wanted the instrument to be able to absorb the light of far-distant stars and galaxies. He held this position for at least 10 minutes; long enough for the banjo to soak up as much stellar light as he thought it could hold.
Xerxes then placed the banjo back on the classroom floor and prepared himself to try the exercise again. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes. He concentrated on the same memory he had conjured up during his first attempt. Again, he let the memory wash over him and fill him up completely with the emotional resonance of the recollection. He then plucked the banjo string with his dominant hand, while with his non-dominant hand he pointed the wand at the instrument and whispered "Memorae Lucentia" clearly and delicately. He kept his eyes closed for a moment, letting the magic flow through him and concentrating on his task.
Marion clasped her hands together as she floated about the classroom and beamed at the effort and sincerity being shown by her students. It was not the kind of broad, performative grin some educators favored as a pleasantry, but the gentle slightly crooked kind that suggested she’d was genuinely moved.
“Maaaaaaaaaaaaaaarvelous,” she sung loudly above the echoes of uttered incantations and hints of sound produced by the instruments. “Absolutely marvelous. Each attempt, regardless of how long it held or how wild the aurora danced, is a success in its own right. Your ears are not deceiving you, it simply takes time for notes to reach a level and frequency that living humans can hear.” She floated forward and gave the harp a fond glance, where faint glimmers of light still shimmered along the strings. “Magic, especially emotionally driven enchantments like Memorae Lucentia, rarely behaves identically between witches and wizards. It’s like a Norandola where its seed form is the the only time in the plant's life cycle when its appearance can be predicted. Those seeds are your instruments. Buuuuuuuut, once the seed is planted ― or in your cases the spell cast ― the Norandola develops a physical appearance that varies depending on the planter. This is a good, a VERY good thing, and absolutely correct.” She paused, sweeping her gaze across the students. “What you've witnessed—brief flares, jagged bursts, long curling wisps—are not failures. It’s your magic learning to listen to you. And, just as importantly, you learning to listen to it.”
She made a slow orbit of the class as she spoke, glancing at the candles that had gone out but without a means of reigniting them herself. “In magical theory, this particular charm draws on something called emotive transference. That is, you aren't just conjuring a memory—you’re channeling the raw emotional resonance of that memory through an object. In this case, the instrument acts as a conduit, much like a tuning fork vibrates with a specific frequency. But it’s your emotion—your personal magic—that tunes it and it is by the grace of Lyra's light that you are able to harness it.”
Burbage reached the edge of the room and plucked a single note from a lute. A pale blue wisp flickered briefly, curling around her fingers before vanishing. “In Muggle neuroscience, they’ve found that strong memories—especially emotional ones—activate sensory parts of the brain. That’s why scent, sound, even texture can trigger memories years later. With our spell, that same emotional resonance is given form. You’re building a bridge between your internal world and the external one.” Her eyes twinkled. “And bridges take time to build. It is very possible to not perfect it this evening buuuuuuuuuut we are in luck that we still have a bit of time with Lyra in peak position in the sky for you to try again outside of this lesson if you wish.”
She paused a moment, considering her next words carefully and with a little shimmy to her translucent form as she floated in place. “Now, some of you may have held back a bit for reasons that are your own. Whether because the memory felt too small or too much, a gentle reminder that this isn’t Legilimency by any stretch. You are not showing anyone your memories unless you choose to. The spell doesn’t reveal thoughts and simply color, shape, and a whimsy sort of texture to feelings. Magic favors the vulnerable, dearies, so dooooooo keep that in mind as you continue your practice.”
She looked to the few darkened candles and gave a small nod. “Oh—and for those of you experienced more...hmmmmmmm...shall we say physical responses? Well, that does tend to happen as spells of this nature doooooo have a habit of reaching beyond its container. Though I must implore those of you utilizing more heated memories to distance yourself from peers and windows, just in case.”
~ Mrs. Steve Harrington ~ It be like that sometimes.
SPOILER!!: Happenings!
Quote:
Originally Posted by The Narrator
The harp beneath your fingers responds with a tremble of sound—soft and cold, like a silver blade drawn across glass.
Then it began.
Blinding red translucent aurora wisps burst to life, vivid and electric, casting sharp-edged shadows that flickered across your face and table before you with a wild pulse that knocks your textbook clear off the table and on to the floor with a thud. They twisted and spiraled with force, not grace—slivers of motion within them resembling legs, glints of fangs, and the suggestion of something more human. The air tensed…not chilled, but charged—as if the air around you was holding its breath.
This was no gentle recollection.
The spell had worked, more or less. But it had not settled. It flared—a burst of brilliance, not a sustained glow. The harp quivered under the strain, as though the memory had lashed through it, rather than flowed. If you wish the memory to illuminate rather than burn, perhaps you ought to let more of your heart enter it. Not just the fear. Not just the fury. Look deeper. There is always more to the story than what stalks you in the dark.
Though she had been expecting something to happen, Krittika was still somewhat startled when the harp made that sound. It was not at all the heartwarming type a harp makes. There wasn’t much time for her to dwell on that because soon, her vision was obscured by bright red. The next thing she registered was the vibration of her desk and her textbook was suddenly sitting heavily on the floor. But the wisps, they way they contorted into something… creature-ish. Krittika felt the vast energy but it wasn’t the soothing type. There was something sinister? about this.
It was obvious that this memory wasn’t the best choice.
The Ravenclaw was considering a complete change in memory, definitely a happier one when she had a vision of Dio making an appearance. Yes, though she had been mad at him for stalking her and Justus, the immense relief, safety and extra affection she had felt for him she had laid eyes on him was unforgettable. In that moment, she had been reminded that he would always have her wellbeing at heart.
So, it was her boyfriend that Kritti focused on, and him rescuing her from a particularly sticky situation.
After some time, Kritti took a break to focus on Burbage’s words. Having now retrieved her textbook from the floor, she flipped through the pages before coming to a halt on today’s topic. While there was information on it in print, Burbage had far more insight which was why Kritti once again spent the time listening attentively. And making notes, of course.
Did she want to give this activity a go outside? Just give her some time to make up her mind. In the meanwhile, she checked on Hermy to see how she was coming along.
Xerxes watched as the banjo reacted to the spell. But something wasn't quite right, or so he thought. He wasn't exactly sure what WAS supposed to happen, so he couldn't be entirely sure that it hadn't worked. But he just had a feeling that something more waited in store for him.
"What to do now?" he thought to himself. "Perhaps the instrument wasn't properly charged with starlight." Xerxes held the banjo up, high above his head. He let the face of the banjo stare up at domed, glass ceiling of the Astronomy classroom. He wanted the instrument to be able to absorb the light of far-distant stars and galaxies. He held this position for at least 10 minutes; long enough for the banjo to soak up as much stellar light as he thought it could hold.
Xerxes then placed the banjo back on the classroom floor and prepared himself to try the exercise again. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes. He concentrated on the same memory he had conjured up during his first attempt. Again, he let the memory wash over him and fill him up completely with the emotional resonance of the recollection. He then plucked the banjo string with his dominant hand, while with his non-dominant hand he pointed the wand at the instrument and whispered "Memorae Lucentia" clearly and delicately. He kept his eyes closed for a moment, letting the magic flow through him and concentrating on his task.
The stars, it seemed, had taken kindly to your persistence.
This time aurora was not merely decorative nor was it fleeting. Ribbons of soft rose gold and pale lavender coil like dream-silk around the banjo’s neck and drift toward your fingers. Then so faintly one could easily mistake it for imagination…a melody began to murmur from the instrument. Not a full song, but a suggestion of one: the opening of a lullaby perhaps, wistful and slow, like someone humming through a half-remembered tune. It did not last long, but it lingered in the air like the scent of something warm.
This was a success. A promising beginning, indeed.
Quote:
Originally Posted by FearlessLeader19
Though she had been expecting something to happen, Krittika was still somewhat startled when the harp made that sound. It was not at all the heartwarming type a harp makes. There wasn’t much time for her to dwell on that because soon, her vision was obscured by bright red. The next thing she registered was the vibration of her desk and her textbook was suddenly sitting heavily on the floor. But the wisps, they way they contorted into something… creature-ish. Krittika felt the vast energy but it wasn’t the soothing type. There was something sinister? about this.
It was obvious that this memory wasn’t the best choice.
The Ravenclaw was considering a complete change in memory, definitely a happier one when she had a vision of Dio making an appearance. Yes, though she had been mad at him for stalking her and Justus, the immense relief, safety and extra affection she had felt for him she had laid eyes on him was unforgettable. In that moment, she had been reminded that he would always have her wellbeing at heart.
So, it was her boyfriend that Kritti focused on, and him rescuing her from a particularly sticky situation.
After some time, Kritti took a break to focus on Burbage’s words. Having now retrieved her textbook from the floor, she flipped through the pages before coming to a halt on today’s topic. While there was information on it in print, Burbage had far more insight which was why Kritti once again spent the time listening attentively. And making notes, of course.
Did she want to give this activity a go outside? Just give her some time to make up her mind. In the meanwhile, she checked on Hermy to see how she was coming along.
The first attempt at spell had worked, but magic does not always lend itself to tidy outcomes. You see, even well-pronounced spells can turn volatile when the memory fueling them carries unresolved emotion: resentment, fear, indignation. These feelings are not wrong—far from it—but they demand containment, maturity, and deeper magical focus to channel safely. Strong feelings are not the enemy, but they must be held gently. When you're uncertain, ask not how powerful the memory is, but how fully you understand it. This magic responds best not to raw force, but to clarity of heart. Perhaps a wise choice to pivot for this moment but worth a revisit at another time.
With this casting, the harp hums low and sweet. Not yet a full song, but a tone that trembled with meaning. The aurora blooms again, this time in deep indigo and copper hues, twining around the instrument like vines in moonlight. They glow steadily, warm enough to raise goosebumps on your arms, and then slowly fades—not in retreat, but in rest. This was alignment. Not just of memory and spell, but of intention and emotion.
*
For a brief, shining moment, the two auroras—one copper and indigo, the other pale rose gold threaded with soft violet—met in the space between harp and banjo. They twist toward one another like curious dancers, unsure at first, then fold into each other with a shimmer that cracked and sang.
And then the sound begins.
It starts awkwardly—a pluck here, a trill there—like two instruments having a polite conversation in very different dialects. The banjo twangs, cheerfully oblivious, while the harp responds with an elegant sigh that sounds vaguely exasperated. But then comes the shift: rhythm found rhythm. The banjo’s bright, bouncing notes braid through the harp’s sweeping chords until the room fills with a bubbling, joyful symphony that somehow works despite itself.
It is funny. Unexpected. A bit like laughter at a formal ceremony. This is harmony born not from perfection, but from play and auroras birthed from likened sources of memory.
The stars, it seemed, had taken kindly to your persistence.
This time aurora was not merely decorative nor was it fleeting. Ribbons of soft rose gold and pale lavender coil like dream-silk around the banjo’s neck and drift toward your fingers. Then so faintly one could easily mistake it for imagination…a melody began to murmur from the instrument. Not a full song, but a suggestion of one: the opening of a lullaby perhaps, wistful and slow, like someone humming through a half-remembered tune. It did not last long, but it lingered in the air like the scent of something warm.
This was a success. A promising beginning, indeed.
Xerxes stood and watched in wonderment and awe as the ribbons of soft rose gold and lavender light wound their way up his banjo and stretched toward his finger. He also heard a faint heavenly tune escape from the instrument. It was eerily beautiful. He hadn't known what to expect from his first Astronomy lesson, but never in a million years could he have predicted this. It was nothing at all like what he had imagined.
"Ooooohhhhh Professor. Look! I think I'm doing it. Something is definitely happening. Its wonderful and beautiful and awe-inspiring all at the same time. This is......incredible." Xerxes said, as he jumped up and down in overwhelming glee. It truly was the most moving and beautiful thing he had ever seen. "I never knew a star's light could be harnessed in such a way. Magic and emotion truly are curious bedfellows."
"Are there other stars in the night sky that have similar effects?" Xerxes asked his professor eagerly. "I think I may have found my new favorite subject."
As the spell faded away. Xerxes looked down at his own two hands; amazed that he himself could produce such a wondrous effect. He was having the time of his life. Hogwarts and all his magical classes were better than he could have ever expected.
♥s her SS family l Wifey is MINE | Naughty Niffler l Whittysaur l #awkwardturtle<#
Quote:
Originally Posted by The Narrator
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…
Something happened!
It wasn’t really a success, but it also wasn’t a failure. And Rory still felt accomplished for that much alone.
As Professor Burbage spoke, she took in all the words carefully. And she wondered if it was better for her to try harder to evoke the spell with that memory, or if she was better off trying out a different memory and seeing how well that would work for her. The only question was which memory would she choose in that case?
After a moment of thinking, Rory decided to go with the memory of her and Ary spending time together at the topiary recently. They were really close friends and grew up together, her mom being best friends with his father. They had a lot of history together, and were very close. With that memory vivid in her mind, Rory plucked the string of the violin with her left hand. Pointing her wand at it with her right hand, she softly said, ”Memorae Lucentia.”
~ Mrs. Steve Harrington ~ It be like that sometimes.
Maybe Krittika’s feelings weren’t as resolved as she thought they were. True, there was still anger within her towards Justus, mainly because he had been seeing Emma before breaking things off with her. Cheater.. The good thing was, she wasn’t as angry now as she had been before. That was progress, right? Yet that wasn’t what the Ravenclaw continued to focus on at the moment.
Her second attempt saw just as much happening as the first {or perhaps a bit more?}, and the positive sort too. Kritti was in awe of what she saw and heard. The mix of indigo and copper was simply breathtaking, the low tune melodic. When they faded out, she was hit with the realisation that indeed the second half of her memory was the right choice.
Ooh, look!
Even more happenings! As the two auras shifted towards each other and met, the Ravenclaw’s eyes widened slightly. Whatever could happen next? Xerxes’ reaction pretty much summed up hers had she not been too busy admiring the auras and taking in the melodies. The entire interaction brought a warm smile to her face, from the moment of uncertainty the banjo and the harp had of each other. Krittika was no musician but even she could tell that after a short period of time, they had grown comfortable with each other.
“It’s wonderful, isn’t it?” she asked the first year Hufflepuff with the banjo. The harp and the banjo certainly made a great pair!
Maybe Krittika’s feelings weren’t as resolved as she thought they were. True, there was still anger within her towards Justus, mainly because he had been seeing Emma before breaking things off with her. Cheater.. The good thing was, she wasn’t as angry now as she had been before. That was progress, right? Yet that wasn’t what the Ravenclaw continued to focus on at the moment.
Her second attempt saw just as much happening as the first {or perhaps a bit more?}, and the positive sort too. Kritti was in awe of what she saw and heard. The mix of indigo and copper was simply breathtaking, the low tune melodic. When they faded out, she was hit with the realisation that indeed the second half of her memory was the right choice.
Ooh, look!
Even more happenings! As the two auras shifted towards each other and met, the Ravenclaw’s eyes widened slightly. Whatever could happen next? Xerxes’ reaction pretty much summed up hers had she not been too busy admiring the auras and taking in the melodies. The entire interaction brought a warm smile to her face, from the moment of uncertainty the banjo and the harp had of each other. Krittika was no musician but even she could tell that after a short period of time, they had grown comfortable with each other.
“It’s wonderful, isn’t it?” she asked the first year Hufflepuff with the banjo. The harp and the banjo certainly made a great pair!
Xerxes was preoccupied with the auras flowing around his own banjo, but a second rhythm momentarily distracted him from his own spellwork. The two instruments were glowing and harmonizing together. An even deeper layer to this dramatic lesson had just unfolded before him.
"It really really is wonderful." Xerxes answered. "I was certainly impressed with just one instrument's reaction to the spell. I never imagined that two different instrument's sounds and auras could actually combine. I simply gobsmacked."
YesJess! | Captain Goggles | Mama Badger | Eva's Soul Sister | An OG™ | It's all in the Numbers
Was she being serious? Kara stared a good minute at the translucent professor, realizing just how very difficult it was to read the expressions of the dead. It was only in the tone of her voice, that while Kara deliberated the lighting theories she was about to launch into on the way the light touched the surfaces would create various illusions on the eyes, tricking the way one perceived things. But bit her tongue and decided against it.
As far as one of the first constellations to her memory it was actually one that no one seemed to bring about. That of the Big Dipper, as she could recall one late night many moons ago, her mother pointing out the big dipper in relation to finding the North Star.
However before she had the moment to bring any of that up, Burbage was launching into a long discussion on mythology that Kara was only half paying attention and definitely got lost halfway though as her quill moved to try to keep notes, but her eyelids felt heavy with the mythology talk and the second year found herself giving a little pinch to the skin on her wrist to perk herself up again. It wasn't until her classmates had moved to select a string instrument that Kara had realized they had moved onto the next part of the lesson, which had that incantation not been on the board, she'd have entirely missed it.
Quickly moving to select an instrument, she grabbed the first one she was able to hold which turns out was a ukulele as she was able to easily hold it. No other reason.
"MEH-mor-eye loo-SEN-tee-ah," she said, hearing Krittika and Hermy's incantations and echoing them. She gave the ukulele string a timid pluck and waited.
__________________
___________________You should take your littlefinger and just point it in the mirror. ________________________________________Baby, maybe you're the problem✯
It wasn’t really a success, but it also wasn’t a failure. And Rory still felt accomplished for that much alone.
As Professor Burbage spoke, she took in all the words carefully. And she wondered if it was better for her to try harder to evoke the spell with that memory, or if she was better off trying out a different memory and seeing how well that would work for her. The only question was which memory would she choose in that case?
After a moment of thinking, Rory decided to go with the memory of her and Ary spending time together at the topiary recently. They were really close friends and grew up together, her mom being best friends with his father. They had a lot of history together, and were very close. With that memory vivid in her mind, Rory plucked the string of the violin with her left hand. Pointing her wand at it with her right hand, she softly said, ”Memorae Lucentia.”
Hopefully she’d have better luck this time.
Something does happen this time as well! Though it’s soft, almost imperceptible at first. The glow from your violin doesn’t burst or swirl dramatically―it hums. A quiet warmth settles over the instrument and then, faintly, a tendril of aurora begins to drift upward. The silver-lavender wisp curls gently like steam rising from a teacup. It shimmers with the quiet ease of a memory grounded not in adrenaline or grandeur, but in comfort. Familiarity. Trust.
It joins the others. The harp’s brilliance and the banjo’s sparkle do not overshadow your contribution. Rather, they make space for it, like a duet leaning toward a third voice. The aurora threads into the others with quiet grace, adding a delicate harmony that fills in the empty spaces between chords. There’s a sweetness to it—a note of affection so deeply rooted it doesn’t need to shout. Your contribution may not be the loudest or the brightest, but it is felt.
Quote:
Originally Posted by PhoenixRising
Was she being serious? Kara stared a good minute at the translucent professor, realizing just how very difficult it was to read the expressions of the dead. It was only in the tone of her voice, that while Kara deliberated the lighting theories she was about to launch into on the way the light touched the surfaces would create various illusions on the eyes, tricking the way one perceived things. But bit her tongue and decided against it.
As far as one of the first constellations to her memory it was actually one that no one seemed to bring about. That of the Big Dipper, as she could recall one late night many moons ago, her mother pointing out the big dipper in relation to finding the North Star.
However before she had the moment to bring any of that up, Burbage was launching into a long discussion on mythology that Kara was only half paying attention and definitely got lost halfway though as her quill moved to try to keep notes, but her eyelids felt heavy with the mythology talk and the second year found herself giving a little pinch to the skin on her wrist to perk herself up again. It wasn't until her classmates had moved to select a string instrument that Kara had realized they had moved onto the next part of the lesson, which had that incantation not been on the board, she'd have entirely missed it.
Quickly moving to select an instrument, she grabbed the first one she was able to hold which turns out was a ukulele as she was able to easily hold it. No other reason.
"MEH-mor-eye loo-SEN-tee-ah," she said, hearing Krittika and Hermy's incantations and echoing them. She gave the ukulele string a timid pluck and waited.
Nothing happens.
No glow. No hum. Not even the faintest flicker of aurora.
The ukulele, despite its cheerful shape and lightness in your arms, remains inert. Its string give only the plain expected sound of an unenchanted note. There is no resonance because there is no memory, no emotional anchor to guide the spell. Without that tether, a vivid memory and the true emotion it stirs, magic has nothing to hold onto.
Even a well-pronounced incantation cannot substitute for intention...perhaps if you try again with a memory clear in your thoughts you will find more success...
Marion positively beamed, arms clasped behind her back as she floated and lightly spun about the classroom as though she were attending a Yule Ball of her youth. “Ohhh, goodness gracious HEAVENS ABOVE,” she exclaimed, clapping her hands once in admiration. “How absolutely pooooooositively brilliant! Just look at those wisps! Those colors! The harmony! Oooooooh how marvelous! Well done, well done indeed. Magic that intertwines with memory is NEVER easy. For those thus far who felt it stir, well done. And for those still finding the right note, take heart and keep at it. Sometimes, the stars simply need a second chance to speak.” She gestured toward the domed ceiling above, where Lyra still hung like a silvered sigh against the dark velvet sky. “You are all tapping into something very special tonight. Something many spend years trying to understand aaaaaaaaaaaand, perhaps, something humans may never fully understand. ”
Floating towards the center of the room once again, her gaze twinkling, Marion’s voice shifted from youth at a wrock concert to cool and collected professor as she shifted her attention to the young Hufflepuff. “A FINE question, Mr. Cadwallader and the peeeeeeeeerfect segway into a final discussion before we finish up here for this evening so you can all find your beds and get a good night’s rest. Those who wish to continue to practice may of course continue to do so, but to those who can afford the distraction at the moment…ponder this. We chose Lyra for today—for its ties to music, memory, and the myth of Orpheus—but what about the other constellations you mentioned at the start of the lesson? If starlight can stir memory and emotion… what sort of magical effects might their celestial glow inspire? What do you think those stars whisper into our spells?” They were, of course, welcome to offer theories about other constellations buuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuut she had opened the lesson in just this way, deliberately, to bring the class full circle by its end.
Marion positively beamed, arms clasped behind her back as she floated and lightly spun about the classroom as though she were attending a Yule Ball of her youth. “Ohhh, goodness gracious HEAVENS ABOVE,” she exclaimed, clapping her hands once in admiration. “How absolutely pooooooositively brilliant! Just look at those wisps! Those colors! The harmony! Oooooooh how marvelous! Well done, well done indeed. Magic that intertwines with memory is NEVER easy. For those thus far who felt it stir, well done. And for those still finding the right note, take heart and keep at it. Sometimes, the stars simply need a second chance to speak.” She gestured toward the domed ceiling above, where Lyra still hung like a silvered sigh against the dark velvet sky. “You are all tapping into something very special tonight. Something many spend years trying to understand aaaaaaaaaaaand, perhaps, something humans may never fully understand. ”
Floating towards the center of the room once again, her gaze twinkling, Marion’s voice shifted from youth at a wrock concert to cool and collected professor as she shifted her attention to the young Hufflepuff. “A FINE question, Mr. Cadwallader and the peeeeeeeeerfect segway into a final discussion before we finish up here for this evening so you can all find your beds and get a good night’s rest. Those who wish to continue to practice may of course continue to do so, but to those who can afford the distraction at the moment…ponder this. We chose Lyra for today—for its ties to music, memory, and the myth of Orpheus—but what about the other constellations you mentioned at the start of the lesson? If starlight can stir memory and emotion… what sort of magical effects might their celestial glow inspire? What do you think those stars whisper into our spells?” They were, of course, welcome to offer theories about other constellations buuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuut she had opened the lesson in just this way, deliberately, to bring the class full circle by its end.
Xerxes smiled brightly when the teacher said he had asked a fine question. He then thought deeply about the follow-up question. "Well at the beginning of class, I had mentioned Sagittarius. That constellation is supposed to be about the centaur, Chiron. He was a great healer, oracle, and above all a teacher. He famously taught many Greek heroes and demi-gods like Jason, Achilles, and Medus. He was revered for his wisdom, kindness, and skills with a bow." Xerxes said before taking a moment to catch his breath.
"So if Chiron was a great teacher, then his starlight might have a powerful magical effect on some tool of teaching; perhaps a podium or a blackboard. Maybe even a quill and ink pot. Or perhaps it would have some sort of effect on a traditional symbol or icon of teaching: like the apple. Maybe the apple might change color or taste different after the spell is cast." he finished saying.
Xerxes paused and looked around the class. He had said all of this and then suddenly realized he had been talking for more than a minute. He gave an embarrassed smile and said "I hope that was an ok answer. It was just off the top of my head and I'm no real expert on Astronomy. Is that ok?" He looked at the Professor for reassurance. He had not planned on making such a bold assertion, but it had escaped him before he realized it.
YesJess! | Captain Goggles | Mama Badger | Eva's Soul Sister | An OG™ | It's all in the Numbers
Nothing happened. She was a failure. Hearing the hums swirling around her, Kara tried to fixate on what she might have been doing wrong. It was Burbage's words that she fixated on as well - memory and emotion. She'd forgotten to concentrate on any particular memory. Which should have made sense to think about a memory considering it was literally RIGHT THERE IN THE incantation.
How had she forgotten that crucial step was a wonder. With the memory of her mother pointing out the big dipper still fresh in her mind, she fixated and concentrated on that memory of when she was maybe 6 or 7 years old ... "Meh-mor-eye loo-sen-tee-ah," and another strum of the ukulele string.
Hopefully something would happen this time to at least give an inkling if she was on the right track. Unless she'd gone completely astray with her pronunciation.
__________________
___________________You should take your littlefinger and just point it in the mirror. ________________________________________Baby, maybe you're the problem✯
♥s her SS family l Wifey is MINE | Naughty Niffler l Whittysaur l #awkwardturtle<#
She had done it!
It might have been a softer reaction than some of her peers got, but it was still a reaction. And a GOOD one at that. Aurora was rather proud of herself for what she had managed to accomplish. Soft and sweet harmony.
Professor Burbage started talking again, and Rory's attention drifted back to her. At the moment she didn't really have anything to contribute, so she remained silent. She would just listen to what her classmates had to say.
Honestly, the sound of bed was becoming very appealing to her. She was starting to get rather sleepy.
As the class eases into reflection and discussion, the soft, mingled harmonies of the banjo, harp, and violin began to dim. What had briefly bloomed into a surprisingly joyful symphony now gently unraveles. The trio of auroras, once weaving color and sound like ribbon in water, fade one by one, their luminous wisps retreating like sunlight at dusk. First the harp’s warm glow blinks out, then the banjo’s crisp sparkle wanes, and finally the violin’s tender thread dissolves into silence.
Quote:
Originally Posted by PhoenixRising
Nothing happened. She was a failure. Hearing the hums swirling around her, Kara tried to fixate on what she might have been doing wrong. It was Burbage's words that she fixated on as well - memory and emotion. She'd forgotten to concentrate on any particular memory. Which should have made sense to think about a memory considering it was literally RIGHT THERE IN THE incantation.
How had she forgotten that crucial step was a wonder. With the memory of her mother pointing out the big dipper still fresh in her mind, she fixated and concentrated on that memory of when she was maybe 6 or 7 years old ... "Meh-mor-eye loo-sen-tee-ah," and another strum of the ukulele string.
Hopefully something would happen this time to at least give an inkling if she was on the right track. Unless she'd gone completely astray with her pronunciation.
There IS a flicker this time.
Not much—barely a glimmer, really—but something delicate and brief stirs at the edge of your ukulele's string. It isn’t quite light and it isn’t exactly sound. It’s more like the shape of a thought you haven’t fully finished having. The memory you hold has been recalled factually, like a note scribbled in the margin of an old textbook.
Magic like this doesn’t respond to fact alone. It asks for memory, yes, but more than that, it needs emotion. Awe. Warmth. Fear. Delight. Longing. Without that pulse of feeling, the spell only stirs faintly before dissolving like breath against glass.
Still, faint or not, something answers you... and that means you’re on the right path.
~ Mrs. Steve Harrington ~ It be like that sometimes.
Kritti knew exactly what Xerxes meant. Such had been her fixation of having the harp emit a peaceful and warm tune that she hadn’t stopped to consider the possibility that two instruments would work excellently together, to harmonise in this manner. Did that mean such a sight could occur with three instruments? Four? “It’s quite something,’’ was all she could manage in a soft reply. Excuse her but this phenomenon had her mostly distracted.
And just like that, her unvoiced question was answered when a silver-lavender wisp joined the mix and Rory’s violin added to the melody. It was all simply magical! Krittika’s preoccupation was momentarily broken by Burbage’s words. Naturally the ghost’s endearing reaction made her smile.
As for that question… an answer formed in her mind quite quickly, so in no time a hand was raised. “Taurus is the constellation I had mentioned. It is represented by a V-shaped star pattern, which in turn represents a bull. The bull is linked to a few qualities namely strength. So… I think that Taurus can help with making our spells stronger than they would usually be.”
Xerxes smiled brightly when the teacher said he had asked a fine question. He then thought deeply about the follow-up question. "Well at the beginning of class, I had mentioned Sagittarius. That constellation is supposed to be about the centaur, Chiron. He was a great healer, oracle, and above all a teacher. He famously taught many Greek heroes and demi-gods like Jason, Achilles, and Medus. He was revered for his wisdom, kindness, and skills with a bow." Xerxes said before taking a moment to catch his breath.
"So if Chiron was a great teacher, then his starlight might have a powerful magical effect on some tool of teaching; perhaps a podium or a blackboard. Maybe even a quill and ink pot. Or perhaps it would have some sort of effect on a traditional symbol or icon of teaching: like the apple. Maybe the apple might change color or taste different after the spell is cast." he finished saying.
Xerxes paused and looked around the class. He had said all of this and then suddenly realized he had been talking for more than a minute. He gave an embarrassed smile and said "I hope that was an ok answer. It was just off the top of my head and I'm no real expert on Astronomy. Is that ok?" He looked at the Professor for reassurance. He had not planned on making such a bold assertion, but it had escaped him before he realized it.
Professor Burbage’s expression softened, clearly warmed by the young Hufflepuff’s enthusiasm and the thoughtfulness behind his answer. “You are mooooooooooore than okay, Mr. Cadwallader,” she said with a small smile. “That was a wonderfully reasoned response aaaaaaaaand you’ve touched on something very special. Chiron is indeed often associated with Sagittarius and his legacy as a healer, teacher, and guide to heroes makes him a beautiful symbol to explore in magical theory. I’m especially fond of your idea that the constellation’s starlight might enchant tools of instruction or even something symbolic, like an apple. I wouldn’t know, but perhaps apples plucked under these specific set of stars are more flavorful or perhaps more juicy ― one of you will have to let me know. There’s great creativity in that and creativity, in this classroom, is most welcome.”
She shifted slightly as she floated, the soft shimmer of her translucent robes catching the light just so. “But let me gently elaborate on one smaaaaaaaaaaaaall point to expand your skyward thinking. There are actually two centaur constellations in the night sky, those being Sagittarius and Centaurus. While Sagittarius is often linked with Chiron, some older myths assign Chiron to Centaurus instead. This is particularly because Sagittarius is sometimes portrayed as more warrior than healer. Lucky for us, though, both constellations carry a strong association with healing and wisdom. In fact, Centaurus is famously tied to the knowledge of medicinal herbs and plant lore which means if we ever work with that constellation in class I may just have to call upon your studmuffin of a Herbology professor to assist!” She offered a bit of an eager wiggle before continuing. “During certain nights when Centaurus is at its zenithーmeaning one of these constellations is in the highest point in the sky, my dearー some healers and Herbologists are known to steep pain-relieving herbs such willow bark or mugwort juuuuuuuuust to name a few, beneath its starlight to enhance their natural properties. This process comes from ancient centaur practices and is thusly called Centaurion Brewing in which it is believed to align the herb's energy with Chiron's healing influence, making the resulting infusion more effective.”
Quote:
Originally Posted by WhittyBitty
She had done it!
It might have been a softer reaction than some of her peers got, but it was still a reaction. And a GOOD one at that. Aurora was rather proud of herself for what she had managed to accomplish. Soft and sweet harmony.
Professor Burbage started talking again, and Rory's attention drifted back to her. At the moment she didn't really have anything to contribute, so she remained silent. She would just listen to what her classmates had to say.
Honestly, the sound of bed was becoming very appealing to her. She was starting to get rather sleepy.
She caught Miss Bay’s sleepy eyes and gave her a small, knowing smile. Just a quiet nod of acknowledgment but otherwise left the young Hufflepuff the space to simply rest in her success. They were just about done here and then the little Miss and her peers could properly rest their eyes in their beds before they had to do it all over again tomorrow.
Quote:
Originally Posted by FearlessLeader19
Kritti knew exactly what Xerxes meant. Such had been her fixation of having the harp emit a peaceful and warm tune that she hadn’t stopped to consider the possibility that two instruments would work excellently together, to harmonise in this manner. Did that mean such a sight could occur with three instruments? Four? “It’s quite something,’’ was all she could manage in a soft reply. Excuse her but this phenomenon had her mostly distracted.
And just like that, her unvoiced question was answered when a silver-lavender wisp joined the mix and Rory’s violin added to the melody. It was all simply magical! Krittika’s preoccupation was momentarily broken by Burbage’s words. Naturally the ghost’s endearing reaction made her smile.
As for that question… an answer formed in her mind quite quickly, so in no time a hand was raised. “Taurus is the constellation I had mentioned. It is represented by a V-shaped star pattern, which in turn represents a bull. The bull is linked to a few qualities namely strength. So… I think that Taurus can help with making our spells stronger than they would usually be.”
Marion turned towards Miss Joshi, completely tickled as her translucent features brightened with interest. “A thoughtful observation, INDEED, Miss Joshi. You’ve landed on one of the constellation’s most ancient associations,” she said warmly. “Taurus has long been a symbol of strength, it is true, but not just simply brute force. Think of endurance, steadiness, and even resilience.” She tapped her fingers thoughtfully against her chin. “In fact, some wandmakers and spellwrights believe spells cast under Taurus’s influence are more stable and less likely to fizzle or backfire eeeeeeeeeeespeciaaaaaaaaaaaaally when sustained concentration or physical stamina is required.” She glanced toward the string instruments, where the soft remnants of Miss Bay’s violin still shimmer faintly in the space above. “For example, a charm meant to reinforce protective enchantments, such as Protego Maxima, might hold longer if cast beneath Taurus’s gaze. Or, in brewing, Taurus is sometimes invoked to strengthen bone-healing tinctures like Skele-Gro or help solidify the consistency of complex salves.”
Professor Burbage floated a little higher into the air towards the front of the classroom, her glow dimming to a gentle silver sheen as her gaze swept affectionately across the room. "Goodness, gracious HEAVENS above," she chirped, “you’ve all made the stars sing tonight. Not bad for a group of sleep-deprived teenagers, IF I do say so myself." A light laugh followed but soon her voice softened like a warm shawl wrapped around ones shoulders ― she did know a thing or two about knitting when she was alive, you see.
"Just before you all go tumbling off to your pillows like little meteors, let’s take a moment to gather what we’ve strung together tonight, shall we?" she smiled, once again laughing at her own humor. "We focused on Lyra, the harp in the sky and small but mighty home to Vega, one of the brightest stars we see and part of that clever little asterism, the Summer Triangle. We remembered that Lyra’s light, like all starlight, is ancient… and that even when we think we’re looking at the present, we are in truth looking into the past. You’ve done more than just make music or light tonight. You’ve reached. You’ve remembered. You’ve learned that magic doesn’t always shout—it hums, it flickers, it waits for feeling. You learned that a spell cast without heart is just words."
She turned her head slightly, as though listening to the lingering wisps of melody still echoing faintly in the air. Then, with a little clap of her translucent hands, a swift tonal shift to something more robust and conclusive. "Lesson’s done, my radiant ones. Off to bed, unless you’ve questions or star-thoughts you’d like to share. I’ll be about if needed or visit me tomorrow or whenever the time suits you. I do rather enjoy a bit of company.”
OOC: We’ve reached the end of our lesson. You’re welcome to post your character packing up and heading out as the evening winds down. This thread will remain open for about 24 more hours for anyone who’d like to catch up or add a final post or two.
Thank you all so much for your participation and creativity—it’s truly appreciated.
Professor Burbage’s expression softened, clearly warmed by the young Hufflepuff’s enthusiasm and the thoughtfulness behind his answer. “You are mooooooooooore than okay, Mr. Cadwallader,” she said with a small smile. “That was a wonderfully reasoned response aaaaaaaaand you’ve touched on something very special. Chiron is indeed often associated with Sagittarius and his legacy as a healer, teacher, and guide to heroes makes him a beautiful symbol to explore in magical theory. I’m especially fond of your idea that the constellation’s starlight might enchant tools of instruction or even something symbolic, like an apple. I wouldn’t know, but perhaps apples plucked under these specific set of stars are more flavorful or perhaps more juicy ― one of you will have to let me know. There’s great creativity in that and creativity, in this classroom, is most welcome.”
She shifted slightly as she floated, the soft shimmer of her translucent robes catching the light just so. “But let me gently elaborate on one smaaaaaaaaaaaaall point to expand your skyward thinking. There are actually two centaur constellations in the night sky, those being Sagittarius and Centaurus. While Sagittarius is often linked with Chiron, some older myths assign Chiron to Centaurus instead. This is particularly because Sagittarius is sometimes portrayed as more warrior than healer. Lucky for us, though, both constellations carry a strong association with healing and wisdom. In fact, Centaurus is famously tied to the knowledge of medicinal herbs and plant lore which means if we ever work with that constellation in class I may just have to call upon your studmuffin of a Herbology professor to assist!” She offered a bit of an eager wiggle before continuing. “During certain nights when Centaurus is at its zenithーmeaning one of these constellations is in the highest point in the sky, my dearー some healers and Herbologists are known to steep pain-relieving herbs such willow bark or mugwort juuuuuuuuust to name a few, beneath its starlight to enhance their natural properties. This process comes from ancient centaur practices and is thusly called Centaurion Brewing in which it is believed to align the herb's energy with Chiron's healing influence, making the resulting infusion more effective.”
Professor Burbage floated a little higher into the air towards the front of the classroom, her glow dimming to a gentle silver sheen as her gaze swept affectionately across the room. "Goodness, gracious HEAVENS above," she chirped, “you’ve all made the stars sing tonight. Not bad for a group of sleep-deprived teenagers, IF I do say so myself." A light laugh followed but soon her voice softened like a warm shawl wrapped around ones shoulders ― she did know a thing or two about knitting when she was alive, you see.
"Just before you all go tumbling off to your pillows like little meteors, let’s take a moment to gather what we’ve strung together tonight, shall we?" she smiled, once again laughing at her own humor. "We focused on Lyra, the harp in the sky and small but mighty home to Vega, one of the brightest stars we see and part of that clever little asterism, the Summer Triangle. We remembered that Lyra’s light, like all starlight, is ancient… and that even when we think we’re looking at the present, we are in truth looking into the past. You’ve done more than just make music or light tonight. You’ve reached. You’ve remembered. You’ve learned that magic doesn’t always shout—it hums, it flickers, it waits for feeling. You learned that a spell cast without heart is just words."
She turned her head slightly, as though listening to the lingering wisps of melody still echoing faintly in the air. Then, with a little clap of her translucent hands, a swift tonal shift to something more robust and conclusive. "Lesson’s done, my radiant ones. Off to bed, unless you’ve questions or star-thoughts you’d like to share. I’ll be about if needed or visit me tomorrow or whenever the time suits you. I do rather enjoy a bit of company.”
OOC: We’ve reached the end of our lesson. You’re welcome to post your character packing up and heading out as the evening winds down. This thread will remain open for about 24 more hours for anyone who’d like to catch up or add a final post or two.
Thank you all so much for your participation and creativity—it’s truly appreciated.
Xerxes smiled very, very warmly. He was sooooo pleased that his teacher had enjoyed his response. He was quite proud of his answer, being learned in Greek mythology. He listened rapturously as she explained about Centaurus. He knew much and more about Chiron, but not precisely which constellations he was associated with. He was also fascinated about her explanation of Centaurion Brewing.
"Wow thats really really fascinating, Professor. I'm very interested in Greek Mythology so your explanation tickles my heartstrings." he told his teacher.
"And I'll be sure to bring you an apple that's basked in Sagittarius's starlight so you can test your theory about flavor. I promise. Do you need any help cleaning up after class? I'm sure the instruments don't put themselves away." he asked warmly, smiling and beaming up at his floating Professor.
Astronomy: Lyra [Legend, Light, & Lyrical Magic] 
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