Augustus Pye is anything but conventional. (meetpye) wrote in changedrpg, @ 2011-09-05 08:09:00 |
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Entry tags: | !date: 1997 - september, !ic/ooc, augustus pye, charity weller, felicity eastchurch, hestia carrow, luna lovegood, melinda bobbin, sadie baldock, wayne hopkins, zoe montgomery |
Who: Augustus Pye; Students of Ancient Runes.
What: Ancient Runes for 4th-7th Years.
Where: Southwest Tower, top floor (Ancient Runes).
When: Variable- combined post. First week of school (Sept. 5th-9th).
Status: IC/OOC. Open to all students of Ancient Runes.
Rating: Low (keep it clean, kids. Augustus doesn't do profanity anymore than Minerva).
The classroom for Ancient Runes had taken a radical shift in appearance, to the point that it scarcely appeared to be a classroom in a school at all. No chalkboards, no desks, no hanging charts of esoteric lore were to be found anywhere. It did not smell musty of chalk or flicker with the dull light of magical torch. The room was round, having been moved to one of the smaller towers of the school, a facet of change at Hogwarts that Pye would allow some adjustment to in regards to tardiness for a few days.
Every professor was said to add their distinct touches to their classrooms and Augustus was no different. On half-ledges of masonry and column near the windows, there were shelves. Maple and juniper bonsai sat on the top shelves and suspended from the ceiling were various species of orchid and fern. Lower down in glass-covered but unlocked bookcases, an eclectic blend of tomes and scrolls. The semi-circular wall opposite the open and bright windows was broken between bookshelves and windows, bathing the room in a natural, unharsh sort of light. Beneath every window, a column and a different kind of plant: hydrangea, Kniphofia hirsute, and purple iris.
A small alcove opposite the only entrance and exit to the stairs was present with a small desk and bookcase. It wasn't immaculate but looked to be well-controlled chaos. The major personal touch: a picture of a boy, (Ravenclaws and fourth years would recognize him as Nicodemus Pye), a practical-looking, yet beautiful woman and a balding man with a graying beard, black rimmed glasses and a pleasant expression as he squeezed the shoulders of both the others in the picture. They moved subtly, looking between each other and smiling, the woman at one point raising a hand and tinkling the tips of her fingers in a small wave at the camera.
There were no desks. Instead there were broken in, variably upholstered and modestly comfortable wing chairs forming a Socratic circle, all students able to more or less face their peers as equals- one of the benefits of being a smaller, less selected elective. The space in the middle was open and expansive, round and made of a uniform piece of slate. The roof was not a towering example of buttresses and arches though. It was low, domed and almost romanesque, rolling with an enchanted vision of the sky outside. It lacked the flash of the Great Hall but that wasn't the point. Eyes on your peers and at the center, not on the architecture was probably the idea there.
With the scent of orchids and a flushness of oxygen in the room, there was one other layer. On a small table there was a steaming pot of coffee and a wooden cutting board with freshly baked bread- zucchini, banana and various nut breads being the most common in the day to day. A small handwritten sign hung from the table, "Help yourself (with a mind to share)." It sat near Augustus' desk, his intention being a potential to greet each student as they came by. Old habits from being a Healer died hard.
The last layer was present only to students who arrived early- jazz played in the background, reverberating off the acoustically sound walls of the tower to be seemingly everywhere and yet gentle to the ear.
There was one last touch: among the orchids and bonsai there was a small space of honor. A round, silver frame of a black and white picture sat there. Turned to the socratic circle in a gap in the circle- seemingly a passway from the inner circle to the walk around, the picture looking out on the students was Bathsheda Babbling looking prim, proper and decidedly Bathsheda in temperament. As she had once watched over Augustus and the many students here, so she still did in her "retirement."
Once the class was situated and allowed a few minutes of reflection at the change, Augustus formally introduces him as their new professor.
"You might notice there are no chalkboards in here," and he flicks his wand at his desk. A book snaps open. "Please remember your journals everyday for classes. Most of your professors are discouraging you from using these in your classes. I'll do the same- for idle gossip. But this classroom is about words and ideas, and I see no reason why we should ban something as useful and instant as these. So, if you will please open your journals to the glowing page," he flicked his wand again at the journal on his desk. "We will get started. Now the notes I give you here will stay in your notebooks, and they will appear regardless of your actual presence here. I don't want you to focus on taking notes and when you're ill, you still have your assignment. You'll notice as we go along that these notes are more topics of discussion and some key points to be focused on for your benefit. Rather than focusing on reproducing those verbatim, I encourage you to think critically. Fill your pages with counterpoints, alternative ideas, comments. Generate solutions. Form your own opinions and styles."
Pye further goes on to explain that this class will have very little lecture. The lecture is in the chapters they are to read. This classroom time will be used by discussing, debating and using that information for practical magic. He encourages his students to use each other as tools for refining those ideas.
"Now. Let's get started."