A pretty face. That's what Fitzroy Prewett was, really: an attractive, gallant, and downright charming mouthpiece for the actual judges of the tournament: a magical theorist (elderly, male), a paragon of society (middle aged, female), and a transfiguration 'expert' (practically a child, male). Look, Fitz had never minded being a pretty figurehead.
"Welcome, esteemed ladies of Society," the wizard announced grandly with a benevolent smile, "educated judges, and members of our audience." It was mostly accurate, though if asked, Fitz certainly wouldn't have considered the likes of Jemima Greengrass (scandalous), Laurel Potts (scandalous daughter), or Zelda Darrow (questionable choice in husband) particularly esteemed.
"This morning is called an exhibition of spellcraft, an opportunity for each of you to showcase the magical skills you have honed over the years—some," he added with a chuckle, "more years than others. Make no mistake, however, that it is also a competition, and the winner of this exhibition will join the winner of the young ladies this afternoon in being made honorary hostess of tomnorrow's ball."
Not to mention the five galleon purse which, though not a fortune, was not anything to sneeze at.
"Your first cast will be a charm of your choosing. Best of luck, ladies!"
With that, Fitz stepped aside, leaving the competitors (and a series of small props for their use) to their business. Were he to bet on the day's events (which he actually had), the wizard would have put money upon Selwyn's wife or the formidable Mrs. Gbadamosi. Then again, he had been surprised before.
Ife may have been in the matrons bracket but most of her competition were still mere pups. When bidden to begin, she gestured to the table of props, five or six of which levitated towards her so that she could examine them more closely. This was not her display; simply good showmanship. With a wave of her arm she dismissed all but her selected prop — a decorative fan — which she then charmed to dance a ballet solo.
There were older, much more talented witches in attendance but Hope had signed up just to have fun anyway. And to show off for her husband a little of course. When she had only been a sixth year, she had produced a fully corporeal lamb patronus, impressing even Professor Sleptov at the time. This was merely a drop in the bucket among all these older, accomplished ladies but she cas the patronus charm, nevertheless.
Sera was feeling nervous — she had been a talented witch when she was younger, but when she was Under she had often abandoned her wand somewhere and gone wandering around the house, and had not been doing spellwork under her own power. She acquired three teacups from the prop table and cast a charm to have them whirring gently in a circle in the air, as if she were juggling
Zelda was confident. She had always been more confident in her spellwork than anything else, and had signed up for this competition before she had taken her post at the Ministry — and expected to be in the office late today because of it. She scoured the props for what she wanted, and selected a small toy doll. On returning to her place, Zelda cast piertotum locomotor to animate the doll and walk back and forth in a line in front of her.
Benevolence stood with the others, her wand grasped firmly in her right hand. The herbologist's heart pounded with excitement and a touch of nervousness as she prepared for her turn. She was good at charms, but this sort of showy wandwork had never been something she particularly enjoyed- but one needed to do their social duty when ones husband was a functionary - as Roman was.
Benevolence stepped forward, wand in hand, and surveyed the plants before her. They were a mix of tall lilies and delicate daisies, each one vibrant and full of potential. She closed her eyes briefly, visualizing the melody she wanted them to sing, a soft, harmonious tune that would complement their natural beauty.
With a graceful flick of her wand, she began to cast the charm. "Cantus Plantae," she whispered, her voice steady and clear. A soft glow enveloped the plants as the magic took hold. She wanted to fill the air with music, sweet and melodious. While the lilies and daisies would begin to sway gently, their movements synchronized to the rhythm of the song. The flowers opening and closing in time with the music, their petals shimmering in the sunlight like tiny dancers in a ballet.
Jemima was regretting participating, even as she smiled shyly across at Adrienne Lestrange. She had thought this might be a good way to slowly work at repairing her reputation, to seem a respectable married woman, but most of her friends were off in the Misses set, and the displays around her were already better than anything she might have attempted.
Charms was her best of the subjects and she already felt sure she was going to fail. She had picked up a teapot from the props table, and before she had even begun she fumbled it in her hands, and it crashed to the floor, shattering to countless pieces at her feet. Heart loud in her ears, Jemima waved her wand in a mending charm, hoping to see the ceramic shards fly together and reattach themselves elegantly enough that someone might think she had done all that intentionally.
It was nice to do something like this for a change, Lucy reflected. When it was her turn she walked gracefully forward and decided to cast a nonverbal spell that would summon fireworks that would then dissolve into sparks of butterflies that would float around before fizzling out. A party trick of course, but one that her children rather loved on late summer nights.
With a broad grin at the crowd Laurel set about her charm. Before her several zinnias sat blooming, her charm was intended to set their stems to lengthening and braiding together into a garland, folding over a trellis before her. It was something she used to prepare for events and a bit of earth magic she had learned back in school that she used to this day.
It had been Fallon's idea that Malou participate, something to give her some confidence back or so Fallon had insisted. Faustus had agreed. But as Malou took her place her mouth felt dry at all the attention on her. She had no showy tricks to give them, and no desire to see the upturned faces. She took a breathe, closing her eyes, and thinking back over her favorite charms. With a quiet incantation she cast a bird conjuring charm, hoping that the small golden bodies would help calm her nerves, remind her she could do this.
Truthfully she almost wished she could just heal someone or even blow something up, but as the wife of Faustus she supposed she shouldn't give in to such dramatic inclinations, especially when she herself was not normally one for them. Or hadn't been - she wasn't quite sure what she was these days.
Were it not for their different wands—not to mention the difference in their levels of eduation—Evelyn Abercrombie might have succumed to her nerves' urging to switch places with her lady's maid, to let Travers bear the weight of the scrutiny signed up for at the Pucey twins' urging.
But she was here now, and the only thing worse than failing would be visibly fleeing (though not by much).
Resolved to embarrass herself as little as possible, Evey cast a simple shield charm, something even a child should be able to muster.
Though she had never put an abundance of store in academia, Rufina had done well enough in Charms at school. With the exception of the formidable Gbadamosi widow, the socialite rather thought, looking at those competing, that she was in with a chance. The charm she cast would bring life to a small rabbit stautette—something of an irony, for she could not do the same to her stone husband.
Adrienne was tired. Excited and glad to be at the competition at all, but she was certainly tired. And her back hurt. Sitting through Mr. Prewett’s introduction, Adri sat in attendance, catching the eye of Jemimia Greengrass and returning her smile. When bade to begin, she looked to the table of props and chose a bouquet of flowers. Hovering it in front of her, she whispered a few words to make the flowers pluck themselves out of the bouquet and form the shape of a slowly rotating baby mobile.
She'd never been the best or brightest witch but she'd at least been competent at school. However the fact this was against women with more years of experience than she'd even been alive... well she was a little bit nervous. Smiling faintly to her two sisters-in-laws, she moved towards the prop table and sorted through until she found a couple of chess pieces and a board. Her grin brighter and she took them back to her station where she preformed the charm that would spell them to 'life'. "Knight to e5," she said after, testing to see if it worked.
RE: Older Dog, Fancy Tricks (Matrons Spellcraft 1894) - November Malfoy - June 8, 2024
The life upon her yellow hair but not within her eyes--
The life still there, upon her hair--the death upon her eyes.
Nova had long since given up on the notion of dueling tournaments but this competition seemed more her speed and so, on something of a whim, she'd signed up. Regret was now in full force as she felt the scrutiny of everyone around her. Her sister-in-law and so many other notable society ladies were present and she couldn't help but feel like she was about to embarrass herself.
She hesitantly made her way over to the prop table and selected for herself a piece of parchment. With a gentle tap of her wand she attempted a spell that would see the parchment delicately fold itself into the shape of a winged horse and fly about.
It took effort not to (politely) remind the judge that he was older than some people by a whole five months, thank you. Had the goal of the morning been to cut into Fitzroy Prewett's ego, Angelica would have volunteered a second time. Whatever the goal, Angelica thought there were far too many women here for her liking. No matter, she wouldn't take note of them again until they proved competitive.
With a flick of her wand, Angelica charmed blue flames to dance in her hand.