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First Apparition Lesson
Author: Minerva McGonagall
Date: 01-05-07 17:52
Wilkie Twycross entered the Great Hall and nodded his head in acknowledgment to Professor McGonagall, with whom he made eye contact with before any other member of the Hogwarts staff. McGonagall stood near Professors Slughorn, Flitwick, and Miller. Professor Dumbledore, also present, spoke to some of the students gathered in the Great Hall.
"Good morning, Wilkie," Professor McGonagall greeted. "It is good to see you at Hogwarts again. Are you ready to teach your apprarition lessons to a new group of students?"
"I am, Professor, of course." Wilkie shook hands with everyone, lastly with Dumbledore, and then went to the front of the Great Hall.
He cleared his throat loudly and announced, "Good morning, students. Could I have everyone line up in several rows? Please leave some room between each other."
The students broke up their little groups and did as they were instructed. Once about three rows of students had formed with ample space between each person, Wilkie spoke again.
"Today we will learn the art of apparition. I trust you all know what I mean when I say apparition. It is a wizard's form of travel, allowing us to go from one place to next almost instantaneously. It is a very difficult sort of magic and I guarantee you that no one will apparate successfully by the time today's class has ended. It takes a lot of time to do apparition properly, but I do believe you will all master it by the time our twelve-week session has ended."
Wilkie nodded to the professors, who stood off to the side of the Great Hall. They collected a number of hoops off the floor and moved down each row to place one before each student. In the meantime, Wilkie continued to speak.
"In order to master apparition, one must learn about the three Ds. They are destination, determination and deliberation. Everyone say it with me now: destination, determination and deliberation."
Hardly any of the students said anything, and those that did only murmured the words.
"Now, the first step is destination..." Wilkie said, continuing the lesson...
Paris, France: Nightmare Revisited
Author: Carys
Date: 01-05-07 18:04
Tears streamed down Carys' face. She never thought she would experience the same nightmare twice, but it seemed as though it was happening all over again. Last evening, she'd fallen asleep in Tristan's room in the rocking chair by his crib. He'd slept fitfully for days and Carys found herself up in his room more often than asleep in her own. She'd awoken suddenly to the baby's sharp cries and found someone stealing from the room with Tristan in his arms.
Carys had charged after the man (at least from his size and shape, she thought he was man and not woman) and attempted to get her son back, but had found herself backhanded in the face and knocked back against the wall of the stairwell. She'd bounced from the wall and tripped forward, nearly falling down the stairs, yet somehow she'd managed to catch herself, but not before twisting her ankle.
Her own loud cries had woken Jean. He'd swept to her side and lifted her effortlessly, carrying her to a sofa downstairs where he listened to her words between her shuddering sobs. Tristan and the man who'd taken him had been long gone.
"You have to get him back, Dad! You have to get him back. I don't want him to die the way Owain did. Please, do something to save my baby!"
Jean had known exactly what needed to be done. He'd called his most trusted house-elf and told it to summon a healer to look at Carys' ankle. Then he'd stolen away from Manoir Blanche and gone straight to the French Ministry of Magic. He'd had a confession to make, and he'd hoped it would happen timely enough so that Tristan would be saved.
The Three Ds
Author: Ariella Beck
Date: 01-06-07 18:11
Ariella was only the third of the Becks, fourth if Katherine Spinnet was to be included, to learn apparition. Only Kendra, of Ariella's older siblings, had never received the instruction, having died at fifteen years of age. Ariella was already seventeen and couldn't wait to follow in Toby's, Anthony's, and Katherine's footsteps. She paid close attention to Wilkie Twycross's lesson and committed the three Ds––Destination, Determination and Deliberation––to memory.
After verbal instruction and an explanation of how Professor Dumbledore had temporarily lifted the anti-apparition spell in the Great Hall, Professor Twycross demonstrated apparition by appariting from his place at the front of the Great Hall to the back of it. Then he apparated back to his starting place.
Ariella had seen apparition plenty of times but had never really imagined doing it herself––until now.
"Your professors have been kind enough to set up hoops in front of you. Today, you will attempt to apparate from where you stand into the hoops in front of you. I guarantee that it won't be easy and I sincerely doubt anyone will be succesful, but perhaps some of you will surprise me. Allow me to demonstrate one more time."
Professor Twycross conjured a hoop and set it in front of him. "First, I shall focus on my destination, the hoop. Now I am quite determined to move from my place into the hoop. And finally, I will move deliberately into the hoop." He disappeared with a loud pop and appeared seconds later in the hoop.
"Now, I want you all to begin with the first D, destination."
Ariella looked away from Professor Twycross and stared at the hoop in front of her. She tried to visualize its every aspect and then closed her eyes so that she could picture it in her mind without looking at it.
"Now, I want you to show some determination."
Ariella wasn't really sure what that entailed. She looked around at some of her neighbors and saw that they weren't quite sure either. Some showed strain in their faces, as if they were concentrating too hard.
"Now, I want you to use deliberation. Apparate into that hoop. Try it."
Ariella found herself leaning forward in anticipation. Move, she told herself. She almost leaned too far forward but caught herself before she landed face-first in her hoop. Someone behind her did trip, while another accidentally kicked his hoop, sending it colliding into the back of the legs of the person in front of him.
"Try again, students," Wilkie said. "It takes practice!"
Ariella tried to tune out the giggles and groans of her classmates and focused on the hoop again.
One Week Later
Author: Lysander Stratford
Date: 01-06-07 18:29
The bumps and bruises Lysander had sustained during last weekend's bank robbery had mostly gone away, thanks to the miracles of magical medicine. Gringotts had reopened a few days after the robbery, though access to the bottom level had been restricted. Lysander had heard through the grapevine that Weasley had hired contractors to survey the underground tunnels and had already begun to have the exploded portion of the bank reconstructed. The Ministry of Magic had also gotten involved in exploring the tunnels, to see whether they connected to the system that Lord Voldemort had used as his last hideout before his demise nearly a year ago.
Lysander was sorry that the four men who'd engaged in the bank robbery had gotten away. He'd hoped that they'd get caught, though perhaps it was better they hadn't. If he ever ran into them again, he'd like to repay the favor they paid him.
The Daily Prophet had only identified the robbers as "the ski mask gang," which Lysander found utterly ridiculous. He doubted seriously that they would reappear in public bearing the same costumes, unless they had as brilliant an escape plan as they'd obviously had when they robbed Gringotts.
"You look far away."
Lysander looked up from the counter at Twice Told Tales and saw Lysandra Somerset standing before him. She gently set a tall stack of books on the counter top and cocked her head sideways. "What's wrong?"
"It's nothing," Lysander said. "Just have a lot on my mind."
Lysander had gone out with Lysandra a few times since first meeting her. He enjoyed her company immensely, but knew that he would never have the same connection with her that he'd had with Chyler.
"You are always so mysterious," Lysandra murmured.
"Sorry," Lysander said, but he wasn't really.
"I don't mind," Lysandra said with a small smile. "It makes you a more interesting person, and it makes me want to spend more time with you so that I can discover all your dark secrets." She chuckled lightly, so that Lysander knew she was joking.
"Are you feeling better?" she asked.
"Physically, yes."
"But?"
"But nothing," Lysander replied. He started to ring up her purchases.
Lysander didn't want to open up to Lysandra. He liked her well enough, but he didn't want to consider her a dear friend with whom he could share everything. He liked their relationship the way it was, casual and carefree.
"Would you like to go out tonight? I can find a sitter for Charlotte."
Lysandra brightened. "I would love to, and if you can't find anyone to watch over Charlotte then I will come over so that we can still spend time together."
"All right." He totaled up her purchases and gave her the appropriate change.
Lysandra accepted the Twice Told Tales bag that seemed to carry less than it actually did and waved Lysander goodbye. "Until tonight, then," she called on her way out the door.
Why Owain Died & Tristan's Rescue
Author: Carys
Date: 01-06-07 19:08
Jean silently led a small group of French aurors through a wooded area outside Paris, where Owain had breathed his very last breath on that fateful night a year and a half ago. He knew where to go, not because he'd been there when Owain had died, but because he'd had no choice but to let Owain be taken away and killed in that very place.
Years ago, before the birth of Owain and Carys, when Jean and Gaenor were happily married, they'd been close friends with François and Louise Favreau. The Favreaus had had a young son, Herbert, who'd been the apple of his parents' eyes. They'd showered all their affection on him and had been happy to see their very best friends, the Beauvais', dote on him as well.
It had seemed as if the friendship between the four adults would never end, but that had not been meant to be. On one fateful night, Gaenor had accidentally killed Herbert. She'd known nothing about children then and hadn't known that one could cause serious harm to a baby when shaken too hard. Herbert had started having a coughing fit, and Gaenor, thinking the baby had had something lodged in his throat, had started shaking him after patting him on the back. She hadn't known what would happen and had been so remorseful afterwards, but it wasn't enough to save the friendship between herself and François and Louise.
Not only had things become strained but dangerously so. If Jean and Gaenor had anticipated what might happen with their dear friends, they might never have befriended them in the beginning. François had a higher position at the Ministry and thereby more power than Jean. He made a cold threat that Jean would never forget: Blood for blood. Either Jean would give up his first born child or Gaenor would suffer for what happened. François would see to it that she rotted in prison for the rest of her life, even if Herbert's death had been a terrible accident.
And so Owain was marked before he was even born. François laid out the plan for Jean, and Jean had no choice but to let it happen. He'd loved Gaenor dearly and treasured her above all else. Never did he anticipate that their marriage would fizzle after Carys' birth.
The contract Jean entered into with François stated that the first born child of Jean and Gaenor would be given to François and Louise when he became of age. François had knowledge of old magic that could make it possible for the blood of an enemy's child to transform a baby into the likeness of another. François and Louise wanted Herbert back, even nearly twenty years after his untimely death.
After Jean's bitter divorce, he tried to negotiate the contract. He didn't love Gaenor as he once had and would rather sacrifice her freedom for Owain's life. François wouldn't go back on what they'd agreed upon before Owain's birth, and so Owain had died.
Over the years, Jean knew that even if he wanted to stop the inevitable, he would only make things worse for his family. François would go after everyone in his family, not just Owain, and he had all the power at the Ministry to do it.
Because Jean knew what François and Louise were planning with the blood taken from Owain, he'd tried to keep Carys and Tristan away from the Favreaus. H'de feared that they would decide to use Tristan as the vessel they needed to get Herbert back. He'd feared right.
The book in which François had found the transformation spell listed all the sites in the world where the ritual could take place. It was a very short list, and so Jean knew with almost certainty where he would find his grandson. He led the aurors directly to the spot in the woods, which was dark thanks to the tall trees that blocked out the morning sun.
They found François and Louise standing in the woods behind a stone altar, on which baby Tristan flailed his arms and legs and cried loudly. Several stoppered flasks with a dark red liquid were on the altar. One flask was open and a quarter empty. Jean could see that the baby had been marked with the blood of his uncle already. The book belonging to François was open on the altar. He read from it from Latin but was rapidly interrupted by the aurors.
It happened quickly. François and Louise were disarmed and arrested. Jean swept Tristan into his arms and held him close. Other aurors snapped photographs of the scene and confiscated everything afterwards. Then everyone went to the Ministry.
Jean knew he only had a short time left with his grandson. He held him close and whispered pleasant things into his ears.
"I will be going away for a long time," Jean said softly. "Take care of your mother for me. She will need a strong man in her life. Be good to her, and she will be good to you."
An auror came to Jean and took the baby. Another one started to read him his rights. He was to be arrested for his part in Owain's death, for although he didn't kill his son, he'd allowed it to happen. Jean was saddened by the fact that he'd disappointed Carys so much, but at least she and Tristan would be safe now.
Paris, France: Where Do We Go From Here?
Author: Carys
Date: 01-07-07 09:08
A curtain of hair shielded Carys' eyes from seeing anything, though they were so clouded with tears that she wouldn't have able to see anything clearly anyway. The healer had come and bound her foot. He'd also given her a sedative to calm her nerves.
Her father's house elf hovered in the doorway, afraid of his master's daughter but concerned all the same. Carys could be unpredictable sometimes, though with her presently drugged, perhaps she wouldn't do anything rash or unexpected.
An owl arrived bearing a tiny scroll in its talons. The owl was small and lightweight and looked to have traveled speedily, since it breathed heavily and ate ravenously when presented with treats. The house elf unfurled the note and read it before crossing the room and handed it to Carys.
"From your father, Miss."
Carys brushed back her hair and took the note.
Carys,
Tristan is safe. He is at the Ministry. Please come as soon as you have received this note. There is much I need to tell you.
Jean
Carys sniffled loudly and climbed to her feet, though she put pressure only on her good leg. She allowed the house elf to help her to the door, though she loathed the thing and didn't want it touching her with its grimy little fingers. The elf led her to the curb and hailed the bus for her, offering to ride with her to the Ministry, but Carys refused. She could manage the rest on her own.
When she arrived at the Ministry, she accepted the guest badge presented to her at the door and asked to see her father. She was directed to the Auror Office, where an auror led her into a small interrogation room. There she found her father seated at an empty table with his wrists bound together.
"Where's Tristan?" Carys asked.
"The Ministry healer is checking on him. He will be brought to you when he's cleared."
Carys accepted the answer, though she was impatient to see her son again. She eased herself into the chair on the other side of the table and listened to Jean's story. He started from the very beginning, never pausing until the very end. Carys said nothing the entire time, allowing her father's words to sink in. She knew that had she not been given the sedative, she might have been furious. Jean had sacrificed Owain when surely there must have been a way to keep Owain from dying! She hated her father in that moment more than she'd ever had, though at the same time she was grateful that he'd been able to rescue Tristan from losing his identity.
Carys burst into a fresh round of tears.
"What will happen now that you're going to prison?" she asked. "I'm underage. I don't have a job. I can't take care of Tristan by myself."
"I took the liberty of sending an owl to your mother's parents. I don't doubt that they will take you in." Jean sighed quietly. "I know how much you hate France. I know you probably miss Wales."
Carys did miss Wales and she missed her grandparents, who'd yet to meet their great-grandson. Still, she felt like once again, her world had turned up-side-down. She didn't want to admit it, but she would miss Jean, even if she hated him for all he'd done.
There was a knock on the door. It opened and an auror stepped in with Tristan in his arms. The baby slept soundly. Carys held out her arms and cried as she took Tristan from the auror. Her baby was safe and sound at last.
(Caden) Adjusting to a New Life
Author: Ronan Eastwick
Date: 01-07-07 09:34
Caden had adjusted quickly to the fact that he now led a group of misfit wizards who all had a penchant for crime rather than the more honorable activities of life. None seemed at all distrubed over the fact that he'd murdered their last leader in cold blood––that Caden had set out to do just that when he first arrived at the hideout beneath the Hanged Man. They seemed to serve Caden loyally, though the automatic shift in alliances did concern Caden because one day he might be the one offed while a new person took his stead.
He thought more and more of how he needed to ensure that he would stay on top. He needed to see to it that his men served him loyally and unconditionally, that they would go to the ends of the earth for him, that they would die for him. Only then could he feel safe in his new position. Only then could he take comfort in the fact that he would remain around for Ronan and Urania, the two most important people in his life.
Caden had never imagined himself leading a life of crime, but from that night in Knockturn Alley when he'd taken his first life, something deep within him had burst to the surface of his being, threatening to turn around the honest life he'd always led. Perhaps it had started well before then, when Caden stole the orb from the Hall of Prophecy.
At any rate, he'd yet to truly embrace his new life. He liked the power he'd gathered in a blink of an eye but wasn't yet sure how to utilize it to his advantage. These men who served him were brigands itching for new assignments. Some were obviously very good at what they did, like those who'd held up Gringotts last weekend. Caden looked at the wealth they'd accumulated and knew that all of his and Ronan's dreams could come true now. Caden had always struggled with jobs here and there to support himself and his little brother. Perhaps this new life wouldn't be so bad.
He just had to get over the fact that he had the blood of two wizards on his hands. Caden honestly didn't dwell over that fact very much. He felt both had deserved to die and he hadn't felt sorry to take their lives, though killing was a very nasty business. Hopefully he wouldn't have to do it again, but if the need arose, then he could do it.
The lair set up beneath the Hanged Man consisted of a couple of rooms. Most people congregated in the main room, and there was a side room with cots for those who sometimes spent the night there. Most everyone had somewhere else to stay, though. Caden had roughly 12 wizards in his service. Not a lot, but plenty for a first-time leader. Most were older than he, but there were a handful his age or slightly younger.
Caden had the most senior wizard apprise him of the types of dealings they'd conducted prior to his arrival. Most were petty crimes, like muggings or home break-ins. The Gringotts affair was perhaps the most intense of recent crimes conducted by the group.
He wondered why the men had agreed to serve him and Boris Nebbish before him. The senior most wizard told him that most of the men had no real friends. They had no purpose in life. They were the sorts that needed direction, and were bad enough that working for a supreme bad guy was just up their alley. Caden supposed he could understand that. Some people were born to be followers, not leaders like him.