silence /is/ g o l d e n {closed}

[kiki]

A few students here, a few students there. Some furiously writing down notes, others casually stretched out on a bench, reading a novel. Then there was the Forbidden Section, with its iron gate towering above the bookshelves. Only the eldest of the students were admitted, but of course all professors were. And that was why the gate swung open easily as a awfully tall frame pulled it open.

"Good day, Miss Nasee," the teacher kindly greeted one of the kinder students in her second period class. Her voice was thick with an English accent when she spoke, but most voices here were. She seemed to glide to one of the numerous empty table and chairs, and took her deep purple velvet under her as she sat.

She pulled out a wethered, leather, notebook, the size of a text book. Tucked inside was a quill, and there was already an ink well and blotter on the table where she worked. Professor Shalen flipped the pages swiftly yet gingerly to the next clean page. With a soft hand, she dipped the quill in the ink well and began her writing.

Class One - Orange to Pear
First, introduce myself, of course. Lay down the law, for lack of better words. Hand out text books, and turn to page thirty-one.

Here the professor paused and blotted the words already written on the page, and dipped the quill into the black ink once more.

Read through the paragraph about the spell, then demonstrate. Have the students preform the task three times, or until the class is up. Then, have the students ask any questions they have, and by then time should be up.

Nicole was happy with her lesson plan. This is how she liked to have things, nice and organized. With a slight smile on her face, she tucked the brown notebook full of parchment back into her heavy cloak, and capped the small ink well. She stood and shoved the chair under the small, oval, table. Professor Shalen checked the large clock on the wall, and found it was time for supper.

On her way out, she found a good spell book. After flipping the thin pages for a few minutes, she gladly asked the librarian to check it out for her. "Thank you," she said kindly with a smile. Book in arm, she walked calmly out of the large hall full of books and down the staircase.

[Abbie Chalk]

out of character:
I would have posted more, but I have to get to school. Sorry.

in character:
It was just a day before the Start of the Term and Abbie was already bursting with joy. She had woken up especially early this morning to get in a nice read down at the library. Although it seemed rather swindlish of her to do so, she felt no regret as she slipped on her most common cloak before rushing up the stairs into the common room. Many eyes followed her out, most of them being 1st Years, and Abbie gave them her usual complimentary smile before swinging the portrait hole open. Her usual path to the library consisted of taking the long route so she could see any events occurring throughout the school. It was a very fun path that was usually chosen by the people who knew it. Which was Abbie and herself.

She had encountered so many things upon this path. As she swished by the normal hallway most took to the library, she could already tell what an exciting day this would be. Maybe she would find a fight which she had found in her 2nd year. The boys were 4th years during that time and were swinging their arms around like propellers trying to hit each other. It was immediately split up by a professor who showed up at the drop of a hat. With a simple flick of the wand, the two were immediately thrown against opposite ends of the wall making an entire crowd of students around them, indubitably including Abbie, gasped and giggle. Not many fights happened around Hogwarts. This was, if you wanted to be technical, a secluded school for the gifted. A place for children who have been born with the gift of magic. But, enforced with muggle private school rules. The uniforms, no fights and natural good conduct- to be sure. Somehow, Abbie liked it this way. It kept people in line.

Abbie turned yet into another corridor and began fantasizing another incident she had ran into while upon this trail. There had been two people gabbing at each other's faces. Now, being a sensible 3rd year at the time, Abbie was not in the least grossed out by their obvious snogging. But, the guy who was with the girl was what had bothered her. Being her polite self, Abbie simply tapped him on the shoulder. He turned around, she stared into his eyes, and like that he was clutching his face in agony for a swift motion of the hand had ran across his face leaving a red hand print slashed on his cheek. The girl opposite him was tending to his wounds and Abbie just huffed and puffed while continuing her route on to the library.

But, that was three years ago. Abbie was defiantly not as immature as that anymore. But, as she saw the library up ahead, she was almost disappointed that nothing exciting had happened. Oh well, what can you do? Just as Abbie was reaching for the enchanting-like oak doors of the library, the doors next to her opened revealing her Transfiguration teacher. Abbie had not seen any of her professors all summer and Transfiguration, other than Charms, was a very exciting subject. Immediately, Abbie did a professional U-turn with her heel and began to follow Professor Shalen. Her robes with billowing behind her revealing her not-so appealing tee shirt that she just slipped on after rolling out of bed. Abbie grabbed her robes and quickly gathered them around her front side for fear of sharing the fact that she had yet to take a shower that day.

"Hey! Shalen! I mean... Professor!" she called out, waving her hand in the air with a spunky grin plastered across her face.

[kiki]

There were a few clumps of students as she made her way to the stairs. She knew many, for all were in her class. A seventh year was shoving a fourth year. Adjusting the small reading glasses perched on her nose, Nicole stepped out of her path and gave the seventh year, Tom Daultin, and swat on the hand. "Leave that boy alone! Continue on your way," she said sternly, gray eyes slitting through the trembling Tom.

She turned sharply on her heel, then heard her name being called. Ah, a familiar voice she longed to hear. With a smile on her face, she turned to see Abbie Chalk heading her way. "Why, hello there Abbie! I haven't seen you since last year," she said, very kindly like normal. She tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear, then continued on.

Professor Shalen reached the landing, and took a minute to pause at a new painting. "You know, I don't believe I have seen this painting. Do you recognize it, Abbie?" she inquired. Her brow was furrowed in thought. It was of a rather tall man with a lengthy, wispy beard. She peered at the label, but it said nothing except the artist, and he too was unknown.

She thought about this, racking her brain about artists she heard about. Adock Dawn.... it really didn't ring a bell. She looked at Miss Chalk. It seemed like she really didn't recognize the artist either. Maybe one of the other professors would know. Nicole made a mental note to ask around.

[Abbie Chalk]

As Abbie continued to rustle her way closer to the professor, she began panting. Her athletics had defiantly decreased over the summer for her lack of enjoyment. With her brother gone most of the days, Abbie had not wanted to play Quidditch almost all summer. There were some days in which she decided it might be fun to zoom around in the sky near London, but nothing too noticeable. All she really wished for was for the wind to push past her face as her heart would beat gently beneath her chest. After an hour or two of pure enjoyment, Abbie would head home and put her precious broomstick back into the corner of her room for another good week or so. It almost upset her that she had neglected it so much, but the pressure of her O.W.L. results were always pressing upon her as well. They were received in the middle of the Summer and once she had gotten them, it was defiantly a big load off of her shoulders.

Abbie clutched her robe tighter around her and tried to slow down the slight jog she had. It was very frightening to her that she was not as in shape as she wished she was. Abbie made a slight mental note to get on her broomstick and fly four times a week before Quidditch season started. Besides, she had try-outs for the Hufflepuff team coming up and that was defiantly something she did not want to be embarrassed at. How humiliating would it be to know that your own Quidditch Captain is out of shape? Especially if you're the Quidditch Captain. Abbie cringed.

Finally, she caught up with Professor Shalen and, by the time she had arrived, was clutching her ribs. Hopefully that stitch in her side would disappear soon enough. Trying to ignore it for now, Abbie gave a heart felt smile and nodded her hello. "Same here, Professor," Abbie attempted to get out between heavy breaths. This only irritated her slightly more. She made about five more notes in her head to run around the Quidditch Pitch in the mornings before school or at night before bed. She straightened her posture, her hand still wrapped around her abdomen and clutching her robes, but now looking at least a little more classy.

Abbie took her free hand and ran it through her bangs as if attempting to get them out of her face. Her hair was not ratty or messy, really, but it was defiantly not as neat as some girls in Hogwarts would like it to be. Though, casual little Abbie could care not and simply brushed her hair by the tips of her hand. It did not do too much good. "So," she started beginning to walk with Nicole- the Professor's footsteps almost floating like an angel. It was hard to imagine that this woman could be over 25. "How was your summer?" Abbie hoped that was not too personal and was almost ready to apologize on the spot if an offended retort was spat back at her. But, that didn't seem like Professor Shalen at all. Abbie could only hope, at least.

As they continued to walk only a little bit farther, Abbie sighed to herself and wondered if her remark was out of line. No reply yet. The aura was beginning to get rather awkward, but she decided it would be better to not say anything just yet. But, suddenly, the woman stopped on the spot and began glancing at the wall. Abbie stopped as well and turned her head to the wall. It was filled with various paintings- each one moving in it's own space and some even traveling to other paintings so that their own was carelessly left blank. Of course, eventually, yet another character from a painting down the line would occupy that empty canvas in no time. It was crazy how the portraits interacted and Abbie always admired it in such an odd way. She secretly wanted to be turned into a painting before her death. Then, she could still live in the beautiful walls of Hogwarts and interact with others. But, she had no idea how it was done exactly.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the speech of Professor Shalen. Her voice was like a gliding owl and seemed to radiate only pure curiosity and passion for the subject she was discussing. But, she had always sounded like that to Abbie. It was just how Professor Shalen was. After being addressed and shown the specific painting that was revealed to her, Abbie eyed it carefully. It defiantly seemed quite new and Abbie would know- she loved looking at the paintings on her way to class. Stumped, her eyebrow was raised. By instinct, her eyes followed directly to the painter, but she was quite perplexed as to who that was as well. Of course, Abbie never really studied famous artists, so of course it would seem foreign to her.

"No ma'am. I don't recall ever seeing this one, really." Abbie reached out to stroke the texture of the art but was immediately startled at the voice that called back. "Hey! Stop pokin' me, lass!" Abbie had forgotten for a second that the paintings could feel too. Embarrassed, she shrugged and gave a lop sided smile. "Sorry sir."

[kiki]

Out of character: Sorry the posts are so short... the icky weather here seems to have left me with writer's block.

In character:

The professor was entranced in thought, until of course the painting snapped at Abbie. She chuckled softly, and almost forgot to reply to the student's inquiry. "Oh, it was quite wonderful. I hope the same went with you," she said, remembering this year's group of children from her pre-Hogwarts school.

This year she had a rather smaller group, but then again they were allowed by the Ministry to visit Diagon Alley as a field trip. Some of them graduated here, and she was excited to be teaching them this year. Her school had also received an award of excellence. Nicole was quite proud of it.

"Well, I'll have to look that artist up. I'm sure the library has something," she said. What a wonderful place, the library. Almost any knowledge could be acquired there. New books were still constantly being added to the supply. Nicole was always one of the first to read them.

She picked her skirts up and decended not slowly, but just taking her time. "Now, where are you off to?" she asked kindly. There were still two days left until the first term began. Nicole had simply drawn up the lesson plan early. Of course, that was for the first years. She had different notebooks for each year.

[Abbie Chalk]

After the man in portrait stalked off to the one next to his, Abbie felt to sudden urge to stick her tongue out at the blank canvas in front of her. Twisting her robe between her index and ring finger, she was desperately trying to hold back such a childish emotion- especially in front of one of her most idoled Professors. But, her tongue was pressed up against the back of her teeth- ready to strike out after Shalen had turned the other way. It seemed like a plausible plan and Abbie, feeling daring, was ready to let that picture frame have it. Other Hogwart residents her age, especially the Slytherins, would think this act to be anything but daring. Yet, Abbie was not one of them. She was defiantly a good child and the fact that this was not even remotely daring did not occur to her. In her mind, it was a matter of getting caught and in trouble.

The Hufflepuff immediately received the chance of humiliating the frame when Shalen mumbled something about looking up the artist. Her feet began flowing, you know how they do that, toward the opposite direction and her attention seemed to be in a very different world. From there, Abbie squinted her eyes closed as tight as she could and let her tongue waggle out in mockery. Ha! That would be the last of that silly painting's retorts. Abbie opened her eyes and gave a satisfied nod before continuing on her path next to the Professor. The last thing she expected was a cry from the man in the portrait next to the blank one she had just obscenely poked fun at. "I saw that!" it yelled back to her. Surprised, Abbie just walked faster and tried to hide her giggles.

Directly behind the Professor, she noticed their descent into a different corridor and prepared. Her hand reached out to the wall for support and let it trace the stone for comfort. Abbie was not exactly scared of stairs. In fact, the only thing that frightened her was falling. But, that was a very small subject and something that she preferred not to think about. In her first year, when she arrived at the huge corridor of constantly changing stairs, Abbie had sworn she felt her stomach drop to the dungeons. During the first month of school, she was almost required to have her brother escort her in that corridor. He did so without complaint. After being here for a couple of years, though, the fear had slightly faded from how big it was when she was younger. Although, she had built up a habit of tracing the closest wall with the tip of fingers. It really did nothing for she knew if she were to fall, it would not catch her. It was just the principle of the situation, really.

With a deep sigh, Abbie began to walk down the winding staircase. It was nothing like the great room full of stairs, but it was still slightly nerve racking. These staircases did not change or even budge one bit. But, they still had their little tricks. One staircase near one of the higher stories had an invisible missing stair which always seemed to irk Abbie. It was almost a good thing that it did, though, for the annoying behavior of the staircase always led to Abbie remembering to skip that one stone step. If it weren't for her fear, which she refused to admit openly to anybody except her brother, she would probably be stuck in the hole every day on her way to Astronomy. Sometimes the scariest things in our mind can benefit us in the most abnormal of ways.

Abbie was thankful they were going quite slow for these stairs were quite steep in her opinion. She usually took the long way back to her dormitory or to class from the library. She believed this staircase had some sort of hatred toward her after that silly incident in her third year in which she had been dared to make as much noise as she possibly could. Obviously, Abbie chose the loneliest and smallest corridor, which happened to contain these stairs, and stomped up and down. Her feet kept slamming against the cold stone and her voice bounced off the walls. Immediately afterward, Abbie and her friends sprinted back down into their dormitory and stayed there the rest of the night fighting off their giggles. The next day, Abbie could have sworn that these stairs increased in size making the trip much more steep.

Abbie suddenly snapped out of memory lane and realized she was being spoken to. "Actually, I was going to the library to catch up on some Charms work before the start of the term when I saw you." No hurt in being honest, right? Although, after she stated such a blunt reply, she couldn't help but feel rude. Still, Abbie felt rude after almost everything she said. It was just her way of viewing things in a selfish manner. She had some voice in her head that constantly told her, "Oh, great job. Shouldn't have said that. Great going, Abbster".

"How about you, Professor? You seemed like you were sort of busy." She attempted to change the subject as fast as she could. Besides, this was not a lie either, was it? It was just simple conversation. She had seem Shalen split up a potential fight. That was rather interesting. And it didn't look like it was easy work either. That had to have counted as busy, right?

[kiki]

One hand was gently holding a swatch of her robe, and the other was gently sliding down the marble railing. She remembered all the stories she used to hear about her great-great-great-grandfather helping contruct these staircases. About how he would be the one to lug the slabs of marble up the stairs to where it was to be laid. That was a long time ago, though, and by now the marble was worn. It had not lost its shine, although.

She said hello to a painting with three ladies dressed quite extravagently as she waited for her student's response. The ladies were sitting around a wooden table, quite rich in color. The one sitting on the left actually was a painting, well, a human painting, of her great-aunt. She had been headmistress here a while ago.

The professor quite quickly heard the words spoken to the right of her. She smiled sweetly, though felt the words could have been more pleasant-like. No harm done, though. "Ah, I see. Well, I was just planning out my lessons for the first years. You remember it, don't you? Turning oranges to inkwells," she said with a quite amused tone. This was one of the hardest things for the first years to accomplish, though now Abbie would be working on trunks to the muggle animal, a donkey. The professor in charge of muggle studies would be assisting them with that. "Actually, if I recall correctly, you were the first one to get the hang of it!" she exclaimed, though not to loudly of course. Nicole wasn't one of that type.

This staircase led to another going left. Nobody was here, except for of course the paintings. And the chandaleirs were glittering above them, floating mid-air. They were bouncing quite a bit; she should talk the the headmaster about renewing the charms. Professor Shalen tucked a few locks of hair that weren't collected into her bun behind her ear once more.

"Well, I will leave you to your studying, or catch-up work, whatever you would like to call it," she said with a smile. She herself needed to visit her classroom. It definately needed to be organized. Nicole als needed to check her stock of books. Last time she checked, she needed to purchase four more sixth year books. She had spares for seventh years, though.

[Abbie Chalk]

Abbie continued to trail down the steps, nodding and giving a heart felt smile to every portrait that had the manners to say hello. She tried to shove her rude behavior toward the portrait a few minutes ago in to the back of her brain. These paintings were not really that bad and seemed like they had quite the personalities. A large giraffe moved down the line of portraits making some of the ladies dash into another frame so they wouldn't get overlapped by the slow paced figure. Yes, that giraffe was taking it's jolly old time moving through the panes and, as it looked, he was busy munching on some food item from a portrait down the way. Abbie couldn't help but suppress an innocent smile to the outraged picture people.

Finally the stairs ended to reveal an open corridor. The lamps were floating in midair supported by many various candles that were levitating around them as well. At night, this castle was very dim and all the candles mixed with lamps did not support much light in the dark corridors. Yet, during the day, it was quite a cozy feeling being in the orange-lit hallways with the sun shining in on various windows to keep the inhabitants of Hogwarts rather warm. Even during the winter, the sun was still shining through the cold mist and gave the same comforting feeling. At least, as long as you were inside. Still, there was no other place like the warm walls of Hogwarts. The only place that could even compare to Hogwarts would be Abbie's own home in the outskirts of London. But, sometimes even that was not as humble.

Continuing to follow the Professor, Abbie enjoyed their small talk. Especially when the subject was turned to Transfiguration. Of course Abbie remembered her first day in that lovely class. The room was so wide and it fit all of the first year students from Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw with ease. Even with some space to spare. Abbie could recall sitting directly up front with her palms folded upon her lap and her parchment and quill ready to scribble down any information that the Professor shot at her. "Yes, that was a great lesson." she said with a slight smirk beginning to form on her boastful face. So, the Professor had remembered that she was the first to achieve the task.

Oh, such fun it was to be the first too. Just the joy of finding out that she could do it was enough. When the inkwell had lost it's sheen of orange after Abbie's third attempt to change it from an orange she could quickly feel her face turning bright red. Her heart skipped a beat and she frantically looked among her peers to see if she was the last to finish. Surprisingly, as she scanned the desks and saw the troubled look on some of the children's faces, she was almost overjoyed to find that she had been the only one to do it. Abbie jerked back around to her desk and made her hand shoot up into the air, letting it wave back and forth as if trying to get the teacher's attention before another kid finished.

After that lesson, Abbie had bragged and bragged to her brother about her accomplishments in which he just frowned at her and continued to make gestures implying that she would not be quiet such as mimicking her soundlessly. Having yet another obvious memory flashback, Abbie attempted to focus on the person in front of her. That was the second time she was alerted that Professor Shalen was speaking to her during her various day dreams and she was beginning to recall that sudden feeling of rudeness which she utterly despised.

"Oh, well, thank you. I should be heading back to the library anyway." Abbie shrugged half to herself and half to Shalen and then turned to head back up the steps. Oh, they were so steep. But, Abbie pressed onward and turned around only once to yell back, "I look forward to Monday!". Though, when she did so, her foot slipped over the abnormally large stair and fell on her butt to the stone floor. She frantically picked herself up, watched the giraffe pass her with what looked like a laugh, and hurried up the stone staircase to the library.