Ceramics C1 [[Everyone]]

[Jorias Joulteer]

Just to clear any confusion anyone may have, C1 simply means class number one. I would like to hold about a good three classes [one classn in the beginning, one class in the middle, one class for the end], and I didn't want all of them to just be named ''Ceramics,'' so I'm numbering them, if thats alright


''A little more to the left,'' Jorias said with pride as he levitated his newly acquired kiln into a corner in the far right end of his classroom using his wand. It wasn't a big kiln, or, it didn't appear to be on the outside anyway, and that was the beauty of it. It was about the size of your average moving day box, but on the inside, it had about thirty times the space, weighed about a ton and a half, and could fire clay in a mere hour and not take up a lot of space like his previous one did. He was lucky to have it really. After all, everyone knew that Mr. Magoo's Mad and Maniacal Market sold the best art supplies, and Jorias was fortunate enough to have caught it on sale; especially since it was one of Mr. Magoo's random five minute blow outs. Otherwise, it would have cost him sixty five galleons, forty sickles, and thirty two knuts, which was a lot more money than what he could afford to spend at the present moment. And it only made him happier when he thought about how it only cost him five galleons. It was still a little more than he cared to pay, but if you were lucky enough to catch a five minute blow out, you didn't just let the chance slip by you.

His classroom was large and bare; the white walls were empty of posters and decorations, and all the shelves held nothing but a thin coat of clay dust. But, this was exciting to Jorias. For soon, the room would be filled with the students art work, and for that, he could hardly wait. It made him almost unbearably anxious when he thought about what new and exciting pieces the students would create. He couldn't wait to have all sorts of pots, and vases, and other pieces up all over the place, horribly clashing with each other, and yet, giving the room life all at the same time. To Jorias, there was no such thing as ''bad art.'' Of course, some students have made rather interesting pieces to say the least, but little did the kids know, he drew a lot of inspiration for his work from theirs.

There were six large, spaced out wooden tables in the middle of the floor, each big enough to seat four students, all the while giving each a significant amount of space to work. He flicked his wand, and all the stools that were lined up against the wall filed out, and placed themselves neatly at each table. Another flick, and six large boxes, all filled with terracotta clay, placed themselves in the middle of each table. ''Ah,'' he said as his door opened and a student walked in. ''Yes-yes, come in, come in!'' He gave a warm smile at each student as they took their places at the tables. ''Hello to all of you. I am Jorias Joulteer, and I will be your Ceramics instructor here at the Llanrhystud Centre for Art. Hopefully all of you are as excited as I am to get started, so lets do just that, shall we.'' He flicked his wand, and bright orange aprons appeared in front of each student, much like the one he wore over his short and plump body. ''Go ahead, put them on,'' he said as he walked to his desk, which stood at the head of the two rows of tables. ''Now, if everyone could gather around, I'll show you how to knead the clay.''

He had already had a piece at his desk, and he picked it up and smushed it a little before slamming it down on the table, and pressing both his palms into it while holding it with his fingers. He flipped the rich brown slab of clay, and repeated the motion, and did it a few more times until he felt the kids saw how to do it properly. ''Now, we do this to get all of the air bubbles out. You should continue this until the clay becomes dough-like.'' He picked up the clay one last time, and made it into a ball and sat on the corner of the table. ''There is no set assignment today. You will only have two opportunities to make whatever you'd like in here, one being today, and the second being at the end of this whole experience. This way, you'll be able to see how far you've come, and what skills you have acquired,'' he said with a smile. ''Now, there is a simple incantation you use to dry out the clay after you have finished moulding it, for it cannot be fired while it's so full of moisture. You simply point your wand at your peice,'' he aimed his at the ball on the corner of his desk, ''and say very clearly, Drisucio.'' The ball on his table went from a rich brown to a pale tan. ''After, just simply raise your hand, I'll come and inspect it and give my thoughts, and then you clean up your area, and your free to go,'' he said stowing his wand in his apron pocket. There are boxes with tools for working with clay under the tables if you need them. And with that, get started! Make whatever you desire!''

[Seth Wright]

Ceramics. One would think Seth Wright, clumsy, klutzy and lacking in grace and poise, would be absolutely dire at such a type of art. Even Seth himself would have thought so if he didn't have prior experience of his skills. The truth was, Seth was pretty good at intricate art details, despite his outward nature, which naturally gave everyone the impression he was physically retarded. Already, however, his Quidditch skills and partaking in the Hufflepuff Quidditch team showed he was better than anyone expected when it came to his physicalities. People imagined Seth tripping over stones and falling flat on his face - which yes, he did - and so one would assume this concept would apply to flying. Although when he was nervous Seth did indeed screw up a lot, such as dropping the Quaffle, failing to shoot in a straight line and veering into the path of a fellow flyer, when he had confidence instilled in him he was quite capable of going all the way. The same principle was applied to his finger skills for art. It wasn't so much demonstrated by his drawings, but when it came to playing around with clay, Seth showed a lot more talent than one might expect. The only reason he knew he was rather capable was because he had once attended a pottery class, run by kindly muggles for free. Seth had thought he would make a complete mess of his creation, but after a little practice he was deftly creating beautiful pots on the rotating machines. It had delighted him, as well as his teachers, and that was why Seth had signed up for the Ceramics class. He assumed it would be somewhat similar.

The instructor, Mr Jorias Joulteer, entered the room with a bright, enthusiastic smile, and instantly Seth warmed to the elderly man. He seemed the type of person who loved what he did and loved teaching it to students even more. Seth appreciated kindly teachers; scary, nasty ones like Professor Snape scared the living daylights out of him, and certainly put him off their subject (though Potions was a different story altogether). Already feeling relaxed, he listened to Mr Joulteer intently, which was a change, seeing as Seth had a concentration span of an ant sometimes. Absorbing everything the instructor said, Seth grabbed one of the bright, rather garish orange aprons unhesitantly and slipped it on. Without realising what an eyesore he probably looked right now, Seth began pounding at the clay. It wasn't his favourite part of making ceramics, because he didn't have much strength to back his kneading, and Seth was glad once it was over - or he thought it was over anyway. He didn't want to mess up, because it would mean his clay creation would be ruined, and he wanted it to be as good as possible.

Seth immediately got started on his ceramic creation the moment Mr Joulteer gave the word. His eagerness drove him as he began to take pieces of clay and confidently mould them into an object. The cold substance felt foreign and cold in his hands, hard to flex and shape, but soon his fingers grew used to the texture and adapted. The clay warmed beneath his touch, becoming easier to mould. Seth didn't resist a delighted smile as his creation began to take shape. "I wonder if we're allowed to keep them afterwards," Seth thought, smoothing out a crack he noticed in the body of the clay. "I hope Chace, Willow and Lara are all right too." Ceramics hadn't exactly appealed to the girls, whom squealed in disgust at the thought of 'filthy' clay between their manicured nails. Chace, on the other hand, wasn't that creative or fond of 3-D art, so he'd passed. Seth was OK with that though; he wasn't as childish as to need his best friend around all the time, though it did disappoint him a little. No, Seth was more independent now, and he was proud of himself for it, as was Chace, but Seth still mourned his presence. Chace always made events so much more durable.

Still, he had the clay as his new best friend; Seth didn't need to talk to anyone, however much he liked to normally chatter. Art was perhaps the one time he didn't do much yapping, save for the odd moments when he'd voice out loud his thoughts on his work, then lapse into uncharacteristic silence again. Concentrating hard on his piece of art, Seth finally completed it after a long hour of laborous work. Having enjoyed the experience thoroughly, Seth looked upon it with contentment. It was a figurine of a stag and deer - technically two creations, fixed to a spread out slab of clay as the floor. It was about thirty centimetres in height, so it was a dainty creation, containing much more detail than the average student's. Proud of his results, Seth allowed himself to admire his handiwork. He didn't know why he had opted for what he did; he supposed the stag reminded him of himself, the deer Willow. It was just pretty, that was all. Seth had always liked fine detail, so he had chosen an animal ceramic, based on the fact they were more than difficult to create, needing careful detail. Seth was glad he had taken up the challenge. Knowing that now he needed to rid the clay of moisture, Seth anxiously retrieved his wand, pointing it at his precious piece. Seth had never been great with incantations; they always went wrong. However, he was too embarrassed to ask anyone else to do it for him. After several minutes of dithering, Seth waved his wand, murmured Drisucio, and watched as nothing collapsed - his doe's head didn't fall off, his stag's legs didn't rupture and crack to pieces. Relieved, Seth wiped his brow with his wrist, his hands dirty, and wondered what to do next.