Welcome to Wolfshaw Academy!

[Mr Ira Beaumont]

Ira entered the classroom far earlier than necessary, no doubt due to nerves. He set his books on the corner of the desk at the front of the room, and wiped down the blackboards. Then, devoid of anything to do, he sat in the chair behind his desk and began to reread his notes, only half paying attention.

It was the fact that he was a vampire which was driving him to distraction. How would the students react when he told them? He wondered what they were expecting, and if it would interfere with the basic teaching process. They probably wouldn't respect him. He'd have to prove to them that just because he was a vampire, it didn't mean that he was some sort of intellectually incapable monster.

His greatest fear was not the students, however, but the parents. What if some of them pulled their children out of school because of him? He would be doing James Robinson a great disservice by marring the reputable image of Wolfshaw Academy; he would be interfering with the lives of the students themselves, disrupting their studies and interaction with their peers. All because of who he was.

Ira pulled himself out of his pool of panicked self-loathing and forced himself to focus on his notes. Everything will be fine, he told himself. You're being a great, big, three-hundred-year-old pansy. So what if this falls through? You can go back to travelling the world! Or something. No, he had a promise to James, and a promise to himself; to be something, to turn this curse into a benefit for others.

And with that resolve, Ira began to actually read his notes.

This post has been edited by Mr Ira Beaumont on Aug 5 2007, 08:17 AM

[Alex Rathwell]

Late Friday morning on the first week back - a warm, sunny day with just a hint of a breeze. Perfect outdoor weather.

Not that the present occupant of the halls saw it. Clattering down the stairs into the dungeon levels and strolling through the corridors like he owned the place, Alex Rathwell headed to his first third year History of Magic class.

There was a new teacher this year, he heard - the old one had left after the... events of the year before. That wasn't so surprising - nearly every teacher was new - but this one was special. This one was, apparently, a vampire.

Alex wasn't exactly a stranger to vampires - he had met one (a friend of one of his father's business associates) when he was young - but the reactions of some of the Muggleborns would be interesting. Stereotypes about Dracula and all that.

Pushing the door open and dropping his things on a table, he sat down, surveying the teacher. Young-looking, reading a pile of parchments. He cleared his throat, and said, "Good morning, Mr Beaumont. I'm Alex Rathwell, from Findel. Is it true you're a vampire?"

He couldn't help but wonder if Mr Beaumont would recognise his name - his father was the Head of the Department of Wizarding Education.

[Mr Ira Beaumont]

Ira lifted his head as the door opened and a boy strode in, deposited his belongings on a desk, and sat down behind it. Before Ira could say anything, however, the boy introduced himself as Alex Rathwell - an old, Pureblooded family; Ira's mind flew around frantically for a moment before remembering that a certain Mr Rathwell was the Head of the Department of Wizarding Education here in Australia, and that he had in fact met with him several times.

"Is it true you're a vampire?"

Well, that was blunt. He'd forgotten that young people didn't bother to dance elaborately around a question, as did so many adults he had met over the years. Ira smiled easily, but not too widely. "Good morning, Mr Rathwell. I do believe I've met your father once or twice just before coming here. And yes, I am a vampire, but I hope you won't hold it against me." He said, half in jest.

The butterflies seemed to be dying down in his stomach, and Ira was rather glad that Alex had come in early; he liked getting to know people on a one-on-one basis rather than being faced by a number of strangers. When you know people, it's easier to pick them out from the mob, get them to put down their torch and pitchfork, and testify that you're actually not a killer.

[Alex Rathwell]

"Good morning, Mr Rathwell. I do believe I've met your father once or twice just before coming here. And yes, I am a vampire, but I hope you won't hold it against me."

Alex grinned, settling down in his seat. "Only if you don't hold Dad's job against me," he said cheerfully - he had got some rude comments after the opening feast as some of his classmates had seen fit to believe that his father had been solely responsible for installing Ms Wyman, who, thus far, seemed like a bit of a bitch. "I have a twin sister," he added, "Fair warning, she's smart. She'll be here soon-ish too."

Pausing for a moment, he asked in a rush, "If you don't mind me asking, Mr Beaumont, how do you get blood when you're here?"

It wasn't like he thought the vampire would be hunting down students (although there were a few he wouldn't mind... no), he was just wondering schematics. It wasn't every day you met a real live vampire for a teacher.

[Mr Ira Beaumont]

"I'm glad to hear that your sister is intelligent," Ira said, amused. "Though I'm not sure why I should be warned. Generally teachers prize brains in a student...I hope that the rest of your year is comparable to your sister."

"If you don't mind me asking, Mr Beaumont, how do you get blood when you're here?"

Ira smiled wryly at the question. Luckily, he'd been prepared for this one, and though a perverse part of him wanted to know how Alex would react if he said "Muggles," most of Ira was sure that it wasn't quite politically correct. It was rude, certainly.

"I have several contacts at a blood bank not far from here," Ira replied. "I pay for the donated blood, so that I am not doing a disservice to the healthcare system." Blood banks had to be one of the greatest human inventions to date, Ira thought. He had gladly left behind the days of making shady deals with questionable butchers. Animal blood was incredibly sub-par.

[Alex Rathwell]

Alex couldn't help but grin. "It's not just that she's smart," he shrugged, "She's just kinda... smug about it." Not that Alex didn't have his smug moments - he and Petra were more alike than he liked to think, sometimes.

At any rate, more students were entering the room, now, so Mr Beaumont could see for himself.

"I have several contacts at a blood bank not far from here. I pay for the donated blood, so that I am not doing a disservice to the healthcare system."

Blood banks? Alex blinked, faintly revolted as the image of a building that looked very much like Gringotts in Sydney came to mind, complete with goblins opening vaults which had small lakes inside and scooping up bottles of blood, popping a cork in it and dropping it in a bag.

Sometimes, Alex really hated his imagination.

"What's a blood bank?" he asked cautiously.

[Mr Ira Beaumont]

Ira greeted the incoming students as they went to find their seats; there were only a few, and he glanced down at the roster to reassure himself that indeed, he was still waiting for several more to show up. He hoped they would hurry up; it was getting close to class time, and he really didn't want to start his teaching career out by giving detentions.

He turned his attention back to Alex, who was looking faintly green around the gills and asking about blood banks. Ira was puzzled for a moment, and then remembered that the wizarding world had no need for blood banks.

"Ah, apologies. Blood banks are a Muggle invention. Since they don't have healing magic to deal with certain diseases, or to restore lost blood after grievous injuries, they instead have blood banks. Healthy Muggles go and get a small quantity of their blood extracted, which the bank keeps on hand to give to other Muggles who have need of it." Ira paused for a breath, then went on. "Although if you want to know more, I suggest you ask the Professor of Muggle Studies here at Wolfshaw, as she probably knows more about their purpose than I."

After all, he only used the banks for food, and Ira could see how alien a concept that was to the boy.

[Alex Rathwell]

"So," Alex said carefully, "Muggles get some of their blood taken out and it gets stored, and if they're sick or hurt they... get a perfect stranger's blood put into them?"

He wrinkled his nose. "Is that sanitary? What if they have an illness or something? What," he added, eyes wide, "If they're, like, a werewolf or something?"

[Petra Rathwell]

Oh, goodness.

Petra was late, she thought with dismay as the sight of several other third years farther down the hallway down herself came into her line of vision as she turned the corner. Well, no, she wasn't late, she reassured herself as she cast a quick tempus charm. But still, when others were ahead of her... it really just was no good.

A familiar voice reached her ears, and Petra's eyes widened in abject horror. Alex. There. First. This was cause for alarm. Right, calm down. Her eyes then narrowed as she reached the classroom door and observed her fellow classmates. History of Magic was not known for it's keen students, so just why was everyone else there before class was even intended to start? Several seemed to be sneaking glances at their teacher out of the corner of their eyes. She looked the man over. He didn't seem anything special...

She tuned in on the conversation between her brother and the teacher. (Another shock. Petra didn't know if she could handle any more in the next hour or the Rathwell family would certainly have one less heir.)

Ah. So the rumours were true. She shuddered to think just how her twin had managed to drag it out of their new teacher that he was a vampire, but then, maybe it wasn't all that difficult; they seemed to be having a cheery conversation about blood. Boys.

Refusing to gawk like some of the other students were, Petra walked in, plopped her bag down on the desk next to her brother - he wouldn't be stealing the spotlight from her, no sir - and rolled her eyes. "They'd know if they were a werewolf, and they wouldn't give blood," she scoffed at her brother. "And I'm sure even muggles can tell whether or not somebody is sick when they take their blood." She sat down and looked at her teacher. Maybe that... hadn't been the best first impression, actually. She'd be studious throughout the class. Absently she nudged her book of fairy tales underneath her textbook in an attempt to hide it. History of Magic had been... well, a bit boring in the past... she hadn't known if it would be interesting or not this year.

[Mr Ira Beaumont]

Ira kept the amusement completely off his face as he regarded the girl who had sat down next to Alex Rathwell. Quite obviously she was his twin, Petra; the two bore a strong resemblance to each other.

"Good morning, Petra," he said, before turning to Alex again. "Muggles do have ways of testing to make sure that no disease-carrying blood infiltrates the bank. They are very careful about those things, as they do not have magic to cure themselves of sicknesses, should there be an outbreak." He checked the time, "And now, it's time for class to begin."

Ira stood up from behind his desk as the last few students came in, and began to write his name on the blackboard. He was uncomfortably aware of the silence that gradually fell over the classroom, and turned around to face a sea of attentive faces. He cleared his throat.

"Good morning, everyone. My name is Ira Beaumont, and I am your new History of Magic teacher. I hope that you will enjoy the subject as much as I do."

He walked forwards and took up his copy of the textbook. "If you'd all turn to page twelve in your textbooks, please. I'm given to understand that you have covered the History of Modern Magic in Australia for your first and second years. This year, we will begin to look deeper into both history and the origins of magic itself."

He checked around to see that everyone had opened their books.

"Now, can anyone tell me where the earliest practicers of magic were thought to have originated?"

[Petra Rathwell]

Petra's hand immediately shot into the air. From the corner of her eye, she saw that hers was the only one. Nobody did much work or studying in this class, but seriously, the answer was right on the page that he'd just told them to open.

When Mr Beaumont called on her, she put her hand down and touched her finger to the sentence in her book as she read the answer from it. Her voice was a bit soft and she stumbled ever so slightly in the rhythm as she read from the text; Petra was good at reading and reciting, but reading aloud from a book that she'd never read before was more difficult, when you were unsure of where the sentences paused and if you missed where they ended. She hoped it wasn't too obvious. As she reached the end of what she considered the basic summary of the answer, she left her finger hovering lightly and looked up at Mr Beaumont for approval.

[Mr Ira Beaumont]

"Excellent, Miss Rathwell," said Ira, vastly relieved that he hadn't had to stare down a class of students who were unwilling to participate. "Two points to Balker. It is important to remember not to confuse mythology with magic, as mythological heroes use powers given to them by the gods of mythology, and their magic comes from the divine, rather than from their own talent. The earliest written references to non-divine magic are by the Ancient Egyptians on scrolls of papyrus. Many magical scholars believe that several African tribes may have practiced magic long before the Egyptians, but since there are no books or records, we are left to debate."

"Now, a little bit about the Egyptians themselves before we launch in to their particular use of magic, which they called heka..."

Ira gave what he hoped was a concise summary of the beginnings of Egyptian society, and then asked another question. He'd heard that participation was key to getting students involved and interested in the subject material, and the Egyptians were very interesting. Or at least, he thought so.

"Can anyone give me an example of the types of magic that the Ancient Egyptians practiced?"

[Petra Rathwell]

Petra was suitably impressed with her new teacher. It might also have been her love for history, but Mr Beaumont really made it interesting. And though she knew that it was ridiculous to think he'd been around that long, something about knowing that he'd at least experienced more than a couple hundred years' worth of magical advancement made her feel like she was getting more out of the lesson.

When her teacher asked another question, Petra put her hand up right away, eager to gain more points for Balker (how Findel was in the lead was anybody's guess).

[Alex Rathwell]

Honestly, it was only really out of spite and competativeness that saw Alex raise his hand as well. (At this rate, the teachers were going to get the idea that both Rathwells were smart!)

Still, he knew a little about Ancient Egypt - just. Hmm - he'd have to work this one out carefully...

This post has been edited by Alex Rathwell on Oct 2 2007, 09:55 PM

[Mr Ira Beaumont]

Ira saw Petra's hand shoot up in the air, but waited to give other students a chance, just in case. He was rewarded with Alex's hand in the air; apparently eagerness to participate ran in the family.

"Ah, Mr Rathwell," he said, and smiled, "you have the answer?"