What's that magic in your charms? [Charms, 1st to 7th Year]

[airshipswank]

[ Good morning, darling seventh year students! Remember when Charms was a harmless subject with a lovable old professor and a slim to none chance of suffering emotional or physical trauma? No? Excellent.

Today each of you will find a candle sitting on the desk in front of them. Don't worry, unlike last time it will not grow teeth and attack you on sight. So sit down, get comfortable and listen to the task at hand! ]

Now, given the dreadful quality of your memory charms last week I trust that at least none of you will have any trouble recalling... the freezing charms you were taught in your third year. Today-

[ He snaps his fingers, lighting all the candles in the room at once. ]

-you will freeze the small flame in front of you.

[ He allows for a dramatic pause and for his students to wonder what place child's play like that has in a seventh year class. ]

Of course there... is a catch. Not only do I expect your actual incantation to be silent, no, I... should also like you to move your wand and lips as if you were conjuring fire. Allow me to demonstrate.

[ Professor Buckingham draws his wand (Dogwood, dragon heartstring, 15¾”, rather flexible, of course) and aims a flowing motion and a booming Incendio! at the candle on his desk, but instead of flames his wand produces a jet of ice that freezes flame, candle and holder solid.

Cue moment to let the display sink in. ]

To maintain the appearance of one charm while executing another is the very peak of focus, control and unity between you and... your wand, not to mention quite the edge in a duel.

[ It's also a rather underhanded technique and greatly frowned upon by Professor La Fère... which is all the more reason to teach it passionately and thoroughly!

Buckingham grins broadly and moves to the side of the classroom in strides. ]

That said, good luck and... do mind the eyebrows, eh?

[ For any ghosts, members of the faculty or students not presently suffering from his class Professor Buckingham will be in his office, grooming his owl. He will also be wandering the hallways often enough, especially to return a little something to a certain Ravenclaw's office. ]

Lesson Plan
First Year

[ We seem to be curiously light on students in their first year these days. If we were not then this would be where Professor Buckingham would teach the Wand-Lighting Charm while judging the new arrivals on their fashion, pet and wand choices. ]

Second Year

[ It's time to conjure up some green paint and throw it! At least if you are Professor Buckingham. Students are expected to use Aresto Momentum to stop the attack. Victory and house points go to whoever is not covered in green paint by the end of the lesson. ]

Third Year

[ Bring your pets, dearest students! Today you will learn how to turn even the most drab creature into a colourful sight of joy! ]

Fourth Year

[ Accio antidote! At the beginning of this lesson there will be a delicious treat waiting for each student. Consumption is mandatory and will result in fun changes such as enlarged ears, blue skin or beaks! But don't worry, don't worry, none of it is fatal and if you manage to accio the correct antidote with your name on it (all hidden in this room somewhere) by the end of the lesson then you won't even need to wait the rest of the day for the effects to wear off!]

Fifth Year

[ Your desk is sporting lips! Big, noisy lips that just won't stop talking! Use the Silencing Charm to make them shut up. Do take your time with it as well, that is, unless you are bothered by the fact that what those lips are saying just so happens to be a string of embarrassing little secrets, such as the name of your current crush or what you do with that bunch of Gillyweed at night. ]

Sixth Year

[ BIRDS! It's a lovely day today, so let's take that Avis! summoning outside. Your grade will not only depend on stance and elocution of the charm itself, but on the visual appeal of your flock as well, so don't even dream of conjuring up a common pigeon. ]

Comments

[thestormcomes]

Mh.

[The noncommittal sound is all that Buckingham is going to get with regards to students, since the ones in his house cause the most trouble.

It's a short walk to the tavern, mostly in silence with a few odd observations about the weather. Once they acquire a table - towards the back, where it's quieter, where there are less teenagers visiting from Hogwarts - Olivier places an order for a cup of Knotgrass Mead and glances to Buckingham expectantly.]

[airshipswank]

[ Really? Buckingham raises a surprised eyebrow at his colleague's selection and, after a moment's consideration, orders the Spiced Mead for himself.

Smiling ever so sweetly he pays the waitress a charming compliment before she departs and goes on to glance over at the other guests, wondering if any students or other people of note are present, but so far the crowd is fairly thin. ]

Rather empty for this time of day. I wonder if... they're all back at the castle, slaving over their assignments.

[ A grin that says he is anything but serious about his assumption. ]

[thestormcomes]

[Olivier would have ordered his favorite vintage, but it's not available in England. He can settle for something less than his preferred usual.]

Doubtful.

[He drums his fingers on the tabletop, watching the waitress saunter away to another customer.]

Your students in particular have a tendency to stir up trouble wherever they are, regardless.

[airshipswank]

My students?

[ Shock and Surprise! (TM) ]

Why, I can't... for the life of me imagine who you mean.

[thestormcomes]

[For that, Buckingham deserves the most condescending raised eyebrow he has EVER SEEN.]

Right.

[...and oh! Here are their drinks! How lovely. Olivier accepts his graciously and asks the waitress to keep the tab open before taking a sip.]

Was there any reason in particular you chose to "have drinks" today?

[airshipswank]

[ Buckingham thanks the waitress exuberantly and takes in the delicious aroma of his drink. ]

I was unaware I needed any reason in particular for a friendly chat with a colleague.

[ One last appreciative glance at his mug before Buckingham takes a slow sip. ]

We can... just talk, can't we?

[ Sip. ]

[thestormcomes]

...I suppose so.

[Olivier shifts in his chair, pursing his lips for a moment. He's not especially good at small talk, so that part is up to Buckingham.

Although he does say, with the slightest hint of guilt:]

You...would not mind if I indulged in your gift from before?

[Translation: Coconut Ice. Can I eat it right now.]

[airshipswank]

[ MUAHAHAH-- ah. That is to say: ]

By all means, they... are rather too delicious to be used for decoration, in fact...

[ He takes one shimmering pink piece from his own jar. ]

...I ought to treat myself as well, who knows when I might have another chance, you see-

[ He lowers his voice into a half conspiratorial whisper. ]

Ascalon won't let me indulge unless I share.

[ He shakes his head. ]

Awfully temperamental for such a small bird...

[thestormcomes]

Sounds like someone else I know.

[Sibilla, unlike Ascalon, is obscenely even-tempered and never begs for tidbits of food, so losing his Pink Coconut Ice to his owl is never really an issue.

Olivier withdraws his jar, plucks a piece out before replacing the container in his robes, and indulges.

...it's a bit more tingly-feeling than usual on his tongue.]

[airshipswank]

[ Buckingham chooses not to catch that reference. ]

Oh, but that is nothing. Only last week...

[ He proceeds to deliver a round of small talk as promised, filling Professor La Fère in on the antics of a student's owl who nearly started a food fight and set the drapes on fire all by herself and proceeded to attack the staff before another professor could turn her into a feather duster for the time being. ]

...perhaps lucky you missed it.

[ Buckingham chuckles. ]

I would compliment Sibilla on her exemplary behaviour in contrast, but I don't ever recall... seeing her in the Great Hall.

[thestormcomes]

[Someone, he isn't at all surprised that these kinds of things are happening when he's busy grading papers. So much the better, really.]

You wouldn't have.

[Olivier shrugs carelessly, taking another sip of his mead.]

I'm not particularly popular.

[airshipswank]

Now why would an accomplished wizard such as yourself say that? Surely there must be colleagues... friends... family or... lovers waiting to send word to you, at least on occasion.

[ It's casual disbelief, surprise that lends itself to an equally casual question. Surely nothing that could not be brushed off easily by somebody not in the mood for sharing. ]

[thestormcomes]

[A prying statement. They do not talk about their personal lives often, if ever. Normally, Olivier would brush it off without much thought. Tell Buckingham off. Change the subject.

But today...]

Yes, yes, no, and no,

[he laughs amiably, taking another sip of his drink.]

[airshipswank]

You don't say,

[ Buckingham counters, still surprised, wondering if perhaps a casual prompt will lend itself to a little more elaboration. ]

[thestormcomes]

...what, about the post?

[Olivier snorts.]

No, my incoming mail isn't delivered with everyone else's.

[airshipswank]

[ Not the path Buckingham was going for, but let's follow it all the same! ]

How come?

[thestormcomes]

My majority of my missives come from Les Sorciers Reassemblemente.

[Which, roughly, is the French equivalent of the English Wizengamot.]

The rest, from friends. But these are not things to advertise, you understand.

[Which is obviously why Olivier is so forthcoming about the information.]

[airshipswank]

[ Hear, hear. ]

Les Sorciers-- Oh, I shan't breathe a word of it.

[ Especially given that Olivier entrusts him with this important information so voluntarily. ]

...The high court of France, but... surely you are not in legal trouble, I hope?

[ All that said with a voice obligingly lowered to avoid drawing the attention of any unwanted listeners except for Buckingham himself. ]

[thestormcomes]

Me?

[A huffed laugh.]

God, no. Rather the other way around.

[Speaking of sensitive foreign affairs in a pub is somewhat frowned upon, and not something Olivier would do under any circumstance - Muffliato charm or not - but it feels right.

Strangely enough.]

They consult me, for the most part.

[airshipswank]

If I may say so, that... sounds rather more promising a career than teaching the magic of numbers to stubborn children.

[ The unspoken question being why he is not yet off to France, enforcing The Law (TM)... ]

[thestormcomes]

Perhaps.

[Olivier stares into his drink for a moment, almost as if wondering why he's saying these things in the first place.

...but no matter, the more talkative streak is back, with an additional awkward smile for your pleasure.]

It was my father's career, not mine. I performed the duties of Chief Warlock until not long ago-

[Meaning several years.]

-and found them not quite to my taste.

[airshipswank]

[ Buckingham takes a drink, listening attentively. He never pegged Olivier for one very engaged in small talk, it's so nice to see that he was wrong. ]

I must admit, I can't quite imagine why, especially when... Hogwarts is a long way from the French council, compared to... Beauxbatons or any other career in France.

[ He chuckles. ]

Unless you would like to tell me that England has always been a dream of yours.

[ Such a level of absurdity would take a different potion entirely, Buckingham expects. ]

[thestormcomes]

Not quite.

[It's the Veritaserum making him chatty, that's all. Olivier is more than willing to talk with people, but tell them his life story right off the bat?]

Hogwarts was my home away from home, a reprieve when France became...unbearable. I owe quite a lot to it, and the correspondences I have with the council are on a bi-weekly basis. Not altogether too frequent to become a hindrance to a much more humble lifestyle.

[A beat.]

I like teaching.

[airshipswank]

Now how could France possibly become unbearable?

[ It's such a beautiful country. With such beautiful people. ]

[thestormcomes]

I did say that working with Les Sorciers Reassemblemente was more my father's job than mine, didn't I?

[Olivier reminds him genially, finishing his cup and waving the waitress over so that he might order another. The serum appears to make him more honest in his physical actions, as well, as he smiles much more politely and subsequently, subtly checks her out as she walks away.

He is not without needs, either, you know.

Ah, but yes. Back to the subject.]

And families are not always supportive of one's personal interests.