theshabbiestofmen | IC Contact;

What a delightful gift. You're a lovely sort of friend, Remus.

[He assured, taking his seat where it was offered, and sitting cross-legged. He'd peer down at the datapad Remus provided, craning his neck a little. All awkwardness all the time up in here.

After listening intently to his explanations;]

Where to begin? Oh, well, let's see... Is Potion a magical art, and is Herbology? I wonder how they might differ... is one the planting, and on the use? Might you explain to me how one must be magical by blood to be a gardener or chemist of such things? And why might Dark Magic be cast aside of the core? Is it as nefarious as its name might suggest?

[Remus, if you're excited and over-speak, than Jehan is equally excited, and asking questions just as quickly.]

Right, all right-- ah, let's begin at the beginning. All of those are magical arts, yes, but potions are about brewing liquid magic. Herbology has to do with magical plants, yes, and how to extract magical qualities out of regular ones. As for that-- well, even if I were to explain to you how precisely to do a potion, you wouldn't be able to, because you need magic to-- oh, what's the word-- to give it an extra boost, I suppose. To evoke the magical properties within it. Does that make sense?

As for Dark Magic-- well, yes, it's as dark as the name suggests. It's anything cruel or malicious-- how to kill someone, or control their mind, or cause them pure pain. How to transform them into an animal. Et cetera.

I see... how interesting. And; as I am sure Combeferre would prod me wish such a look, should I fail to ask; is there any quantifying of magic? That is to say, any idea what makes blood magical, or non-magical?

[A smile, encouraging.]

You make perfect sense, yes! Do only certain things have a magical property that can be boosted, or all things? And... on the more dour note, you are right, Proesseur. Dark Magic sounds a horrific thing; surely, it is not taught?

Not yet. Every so often you'll see someone who's born to a seemingly nonmagical family, but it's typically because they've a witch or wizard great-grandparent that nobody knew about. And most all things do, yes. There are a few plants or animals that are utterly unmagical, but they're the odd thing out.

And no, no, it's not at all. It's mostly forbidden, to be honest; the only things taught are-- well, childish things. A spell to tickle, or turn someone upside down, or what have you.

That's very curious... how is it tested for in smaller degrees? Is it more common in women than in men, or on a certain continent, or of a certain time period?

[He paused, them smiled shyly, tilting his head down and shaking it.]

Excuse me; I ask too much. Though I might submit that the joy in silly matters; such as tickling someone; is better enjoyed in the non-magical way. I should like to think that there are some things mere mortals enjoy better by simply having hands, eyes and seven senses.

[He smiles at that, pleased, but then--]

Sorry, seven senses?

[Jehan stared a moment, brows raised, then paled a little, embarrassed.

Ah. He had in fact said that out loud. Not that he felt it was untrue, he just must-- seem very odd, mustn't he. Nothing new, per say, but...]

That is to say... I mean. I believe... I believe there are seven. Perception being the sixth; the ability of the mind to see and feel that which is not quite 'there', such as in instances of deja vu, or a cold spot where an old spirit may lurk, or--

[He faltered at going on, turning a little pink now instead.]

Perhaps I sound most... well. Moronic?

Not in the least!

[He rushes to assure him. Perhaps they're not senses in the traditional sense (as it were), but he quite likes the thought of that.]

No, I think that's quite a good way to look at it. Especially since it's such a documented phenomenon.

[He smiled lightly, glad for Remus' kindness on the matter.]

...Thank you.

The seventh, well; I would count that as emotion. Sometimes we may feel something literally by feeling it figuratively, in any part of us. A tingling when he love someone, a death created by pure sadness of the person. Feelings are manifest, but they work on quite a different level, and guide us almost intuitively. So... as is not unusual for myself, I have taken to affronting science, and logic, and reason-- and I say there are indeed seven.

[He tilts his head, listening, but he smiles at the end.]

Well. As an utter affront to science itself, as my mother was fond of telling my father and I, I'd be more the fool if I said you were wrong. I quite like those ideas.

[That makes him laugh, lightly, easing into comfort again.]

Parents have a way of being very galled by it, don't they? I am gald to have convinced you.

Especially when said parents don't share your talents, yes. What are-- were?-- yours like?

Ah-- were yours the non-magical type that you spoke of?

[Brows lifted a bit.]

Are and were, I'm afraid. My mother was a very gentle soul, and my memories of her; though few; are all bathed in her kindness, I fancy. My father is a bit more stern, a solider with a very neat view on how a young man's life ought to proceed. It's a very common story, I daresay. But I was raised in principle by my Uncle and Grandmother; very good people.

My father is a wizard; my mother is a non-magical sort, yes. But that's quite lovely to hear. I suppose I can't really blame stern parents, especially if it sounds as if they're coming from a place of kindness.

Was she thrilled or alarmed by your talents? Forgive me if I cut too close. [A soft smile.] I should like to be sure that it came from a place of kindness; I cannot think of many fathers who would not be exasperated by a son turning to poetry, of all things; with all seven senses, at that.

Thrilled, I hope. Although exasperated, at times; it isn't particularly easy, I imagine, when your son has magic and you don't. I remember once she wanted to take me to the doctor and I, ah, sealed the door and wouldn't come out.

[He pushes a hand through his hair, vaguely embarrassed.]

In any case. Would you mind showing me some of your poetry at some point? I didn't know you were a poet, to be frank; I'd love to hear some. Read some. Whichever.

Oh! [He chuckles, at that.] Well, I'm not sure if that's really such a magical reaction... you sound like a very typical child to me, just rather more... wieldly.

[He smiled at him, thinking that story incredibly sweet, in fact. His parents must be proud indeed.

Granted, he colours directly after.]

A-ah. Yes, a poet by study and trade, though-- though I can't promise I am really very good. Are you sure you'd want to read that?

Absolutely! I'm sure you're better than you think-- and anyway, I can't write any at all, so whatever you create is better than anything I could come up with. Please? I understand if it's-- if you don't want to, I mean it's deeply personal, but I'd love to read it if you're so inclined.

I... well. I am obliged; how could I not be, at so tender and generous a request?

[He smiled still, despite some obvious embarrassment, and nodded his ascent.]

I will try to fit it to English meter, though I am talentless at it. You are from Britain, are you not?

I am. Er. Will it ruin it entirely if it's in English? I know a bit of French . . .

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