This Isn't Fair
Knock knock.
“Come in.”
Max, gently, pushed the door open.
Ms. Grant glanced up from some paperwork she was filling out - and smiled at her.
“Max. Please, sit down.”
She gestured to a seat on the other side of her desk.
Max padded quietly to the front - taking a moment to glance up and down the classroom.
The desks were all stacked up in the far corner. The class was completely bare outside of them, and Ms. Grant’s desk. The only light source was a large, dangling chandelier, that spilled a warm orange glow over every stone. There was a large rug in the middle of the room, too, with a Ravenclaw emblem on it.
Ms. Grant was the head of Ravenclaw house.
Max sat down in the chair across from Grant, and eyed up the mess on top of her desk.
Papers were skewed everywhere. Some of them in clean stacks, some in messier piles, some set hastily aside. Some letters, some files. Some of them yellowing, some still a pristine white. There was a small canister that held at least a dozen quills, and a vial of ink with a few drops spilled over the edge. Ink was stained on Grant’s fingers, too. It glittered orange in the light.
Max shifted nervously in her seat, and didn’t say a word.
After a long, long moment, Grant glanced up and smiled at her.
“Alright, that should be that,” she said, setting the paper aside and lacing her hands on her desk. “Now, you’re here about private tutoring, right Max?”
“Yes ma’am,” Max said softly.
“Alright. Well, first of all, tell me - what charms can you cast? Successfully and consistently.”
Max blinked, and thought about it.
“...Uhm… the disarming charm, Expelliarmus. I’m good at that one.”
Grant nodded.
“Uh… I’m good at hexes! And curses,” Max added, giving her a proud smile.
Grant nodded again. “Anything else?”
“Uhm… no, just… just curses, hexes… I’m okay at jinxes, too, I guess… and Expelliarmus.”
Grant hummed thoughtfully under her breath.
“Alright, Max, I want you to try something for me,” Grant said. “The charm you were having trouble with today is the tap-dancing spell, correct?”
“Uh… yeah,” Max murmured.
“Try that on this paper,” Grant said, pushing a sealed letter towards her.
Max blinked.
“Uh… Tarantallegra,” Max said, moving her wand in the odd, wobbly motion required.
The letter lit on fire.
Max yelped and scooched back. Grant raised her eyebrows silently.
“Sorry! Sorry!” Max chirped, whipping her wand towards the flame. “I… uhm… can’t do the water-making charm.”
Grant flicked her wand easily. The flame died.
Max sighed.
“...I’m really sorry,” she murmured.
Grant offered her a reassuring smile. “Nothing to be sorry about. This is how you learn. Now,”
Grant stood up, and walked around the desk.
“Try it on me.”
Max blinked.
“...Um… not to backtalk, ma’am, but… I don’t think that’s the best idea,” Max said.
Grant shrugged. “I can put myself out if you set me on fire.”
“Ma’am, I rea-”
“Max Caulfield.”
Max went silent.
“Do the tap-dancing jinx on me. Now,” Grant said.
Max took out her wand.
“...Tarantallegra,” she said, trying her very best to be precise with the wand movement and pulling away slightly as she did, ready for a shocked scream when Grant went alight.
But instead, Grant began to tap-dance.
Max blinked.
It wasn’t just any old tap-dancing, too. It was incredibly fast, incredibly tiring tap-dancing. The kind of tap-dancing that might actually make you ineffective in a duel.
In other words - the jinx did exactly what it was meant to.
Grant pulled her wand out, and flicked it at her feet.
She stopped tap dancing instantly.
“Well? Care to explain what just happened, Max?” Grant said, glancing up at her.
Max floundered.
“Magic,” Grant said, walking back to her seat, “is all about intent. If you do the right wand movement and the right incantation, but think the spell is going to do something other than what it’s meant to - it won’t work. So, Max, why is it that when you use the spell in the context it would actually be useful in - a duel - you perform perfectly, but when doing it on an inanimate object, you fail?”
Max fumbled for an answer.
“I… don’t know, ma’am,” Max muttered.
Grant didn’t respond, for a moment.
“...I’d like you to try something else for me, Max,” Grant said - and flicked her wand at the desks in the corner.
One of them floated in front of Max.
“Try a spell for me. The incantation is Reducto. You have to move your wand in an upward slash,”
Grant slashed her own wand up slowly,
“And then a downward slash,”
Grant slashed down, like she was drawing a greater than sign.
“And then jab at where the slashes connect,” she said, jabbing at where the hypothetical crux of the greater than sign would be.
Max blinked.
“Do it at that desk, alright? Reducto. The re on the up slash, duct on the down, and o on the jab. Re-duct-o.”
Grant demonstrated the gesture and incantation slowly.
Max turned to the desk, and gathered her breath.
Put her wand in front of her.
“...Re-duct-o!”
On the jab, a small ball of light burst out of the end of her wand, and carrened towards the desk.
It was one of the brightest spells she had ever cast. A golden white.
When it hit the desk, it made a noise like a firecracker going off - and a chunk of the desk was blown off.
Max gasped.
“Oh - oh my Lord, I - Ms. Grant, I am so sorry, I didn’t mean to-”
“It’s meant to do that, Max.”
Max blinked.
Grant’s voice was quiet, and very thoughtful.
“...Oh.”
Grant waved her wand at the desk. “Reparo.”
The desk fit itself back together.
“...Max.”
“Yes, Ms. Grant?” Max said, glancing at her nervously.
“Your next tutoring session will be with Mr. Jefferson,” Grant said, glancing at her. “I’m not the kind of person that’s best at dealing with this type of issue.”
“Is… something wrong with me?” Max muttered, looking up at Grant pleadingly.
Grant didn’t respond for a moment.
“...That’s not for me to say,” she said eventually. “Talk to Professor Jefferson. He’s the expert.”
“Expert? On what?”
Grant didn’t answer.
“Ms. Grant?” Max prodded quietly. “What… what’s the problem? I don’t understand…”
“Of course you don’t, child,” Grant said, smiling reassuringly at her. “Jefferson will explain everything. Go on, now - there’s nothing more I can do for you. Go study. Jefferson will tutor you tomorrow.”
Max, slowly, began to walk towards the door.
Don’t I have a right to know?
Grant has no right to keep this from me.
Is there something wrong with me?
What’s so special about Jefferson?
“Goodbye, Ms. Grant,” Max muttered as she opened the door.
“Goodbye, Max,” Grant said, sitting behind her desk again.
I do fine in every other class.
Why charms? Why conjuring spells?
Why NOT curses, or hexes?
...This isn’t fair.
That was the sentiment that struck her most strongly. That began to provoke a deep, bubbling anger in her.
This. Isn’t. Fair.
Her eyes prickled as she closed the door.