Remington managed a tired laugh and leaned back against the cushion. Her back hurt from sitting up straight for so long. It was almost midterm, and she’d nearly finished all of her assigned work. She didn’t want to focus on anything but this during the holidays. It would be weird to practice on her own, though. Having Anssi around to bounce ideas off of had been super helpful, even if she didn’t have much progress to show for it. Remington didn’t know what she’d do if she couldn’t get past this. Maybe doing the ritual to find out what she would transform into could help, but the idea of keeping a leaf in her mouth for a whole month just sounded uncomfortable. And kind of icky.
“I’m sorry,” she made a face and sighed. “I wish I could be helpful. Professor McKindy said something like… knowing how your magic works will make it easier?” She was absolutely paraphrasing, but she thought it helped summarize some of her favorite professor’s philosophy. “That’s just not working for me, though.”
When Anssi asked about Ruben, Remington made sure to keep her face as neutral as possible. She didn’t know exactly what happened, but at some point, Anssi stopped idolizing his brother, and Remington, who definitely went through a phase of Ruben worship, didn’t want to make it weird. She decided to tread carefully with her answer.
“I guess… if there’s something to Professor McKindy’s theory - which, I’m sure there is, he’s Professor McKindy - maybe Ruben is really sure of himself? Of who he is, of his magic, of knowing how it works for him.” Remington chewed on her bottom lip. “Maybe it isn’t about skill level at all. Maybe it’s about confidence.”
That didn’t entirely make sense either. The Draco knew her magic. She fully believed in her abilities as a witch, and she believed in her intelligence. So why couldn’t she make this work? Was there something wrong with her?
At least Anssi agreed that it wasn’t possible to be working too hard on this. It almost motivated her to sit back up and try again, but now that she’d relaxed into her seat, it was really hard to want to move. She was tired and not making another failed attempt towards progress sounded pretty good right now.
She watched Anssi as he talked out his frustration, moving so she could lean against the arm rest and prop her head up with one hand. Motivation could absolutely be a factor, too. Magic was sometimes finicky like that. But how could they know what kind of motivation would be good enough?
“It makes sense.” Remington mulled over her own reasons for becoming an animagus. She hadn’t thought about it that deeply before. In a way, her motivations were similar to Anssi’s. “I want to be able to put on my college applications next year that I’m able to do it. And - I don’t know.” She shifted uncomfortably and turned her brown eyes away from her friend. “Being able to do magical stuff that others can’t makes me feel better about myself sometimes.” She wasn’t pretty like Darlene and Claudia or artistically talented like Drew. What she had going for her was her academics, and she liked being good at that. “I like feeling good at something.”