Tara felt the power in her veins, willing her on, to go, to run, to weave spells and charms and jinxes. To cast fire made of light and dance with sparks.
She didn't.
She sat in her little bench, trying to get her leg to stop jumping. She pressed a hand on her thigh, and after a few moments felt the stillness manifest in her mind like a bothersome numbness, an irksome lack of movement. So she let it jump again.
She wasn't anxious, she was just bored, wasn't she? Maybe if she had something harder to transfigure, the class would be more interesting. Regardless, she took a long, deep breath. It was the sort of thing they'd told her about calming herself or "controlling her impulses". She'd seen Hermione do it during stressful situations. Did it work? Tara wasn't certain. She took another deep breath in case she'd done it wrong, letting it out slowly.
But still... a little fun couldn't hurt. Could it?
After a few minutes of jumping and not-jumping, breathing, and fidgeting, she decided it was a good idea to make her matches fight each other, as there was nothing else interesting to do and that was completely unfair! She imagined it in her mind, looked around to see that McGonagall wasn't watching, and then blinked. The matches, that had been needles at the start of the class, split themselves, forming thin arms and legs, then stood up. She watched veeeeery closely as match-stick figures grew awake. One even rubbed its sulfur head, as if dazed. Then they started sizing each other up like rascals in a bar.
Woody tried to get Spark from behind! But Spark was a keen fellow. He was the kind of match that don't like uniforms and jinxes people when they try make him sign paperwork. Spark was a bandit of a match! So he flipped out of Woody's attack and landed on Ron's desk.
"Woaaaah. Wicked!" Ron whispered "How'd you do that?"
She grinned at him. Harry started watching too. They both still had a pile of needles on their desk.
Woody turned his attention elsewhere! He was the ambitious kind! He'd prove himself the toughest of the lot! So he grabbed Splinter in a choke-hold, and then flipped him over his shoulder, throwing him across the desk. Splinter skidded over the edge. Tara jumped and caught him as he fell. Poor fellow! Ain't done nothing wrong! He was just a little timid, 'sall. Maybe a little eccentric and not as confident as your average bloke, but he was still a good match. She placed him on Harry's shoulder for good measure. Splinter clung on to his robes for dear life.
On the battlefield, a rival had emerged! Branch! Branch and Woody were evenly matched, this was turning into a real dangerous brawl. No place here for good-mannered, stove-goin' and well-behavin' matches or whatnot. They were eyeing each other, coming to an understanding! A duel! Test their forces directly!
Just then, Spark landed down between them! He had a needle and was using it like a SWORD! He screamed a very high-pitched war-scream and took Woody's head clean off! The sulfur bob tumbled to the desk.
Then Spark discarded his needle-sword and turned to Branch. He was going to pick up Woody's opponent, continue his duel. But no! The other stick figures had seen his keenness and teamed up against him! In a moment, Spark was surrounded by match-enemies.
He cracked wooden knuckles... or well, splinters and braced himself! With strength of arm, Spark dodged the deadliest of blows! He charged, he ducked, he punched, he rolled. He grabbed an opponent and heaved him at another three, making them topple to the desk. He kicked another in the sulfurs. He made others fall by sweeping them off their feet in a spinning motion!
Spark... Spark was the fellow everyone liked! Spark was instinct. He's lived a lot, been jinxed at a lot. He didn't have the schooling to be a match-auror - he spent his school years learning from his Grand-matches about old things people wrote a long time ago. But then he rebelled, despite everything, he became the vigilante of the Match World! Always tracking down evil-matches, asking questions. He went his own way, working outside the fire-law. He'd vanish and leave the bandits tied up for the aurors to find! Spark was the champion, Spark was the -
