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Author: Janine Fox
Date: 02-10-08 08:23
Having informed everyone Harry had asked her to seek out, and having left Hermione behind at St. Mungos, Janine now stood uncertainly at a door, hand held in mid-air ready to knock. Beside her sat Rocko, obediently waiting with a serious look on his wrinkled face. On the other side of her stood Pinky, hopping from foot to foot in a nervous dance while wringing his hands anxiously.
”Get Pinky and Rocko and go somewhere safe.”
Harry’s last words to her echoed loudly in her head. With Harry arrested there was a good possibility that she would be next. Her close relationship with him made her an easy target. But where could she go without bringing harm to the person she was staying with? She couldn’t go to Sirius, not with the small children about. Her friends also didn’t deserve the burden of sheltering her either. In the end, there was really only one place she could think of to go to.
Taking a deep breath, Janine lifted her hand and knocked on the door. The familiar sounds of magical locks clicking open was followed by a large sphinx eye appearing on the door. As it stared down at her an audible gasp could be heard from inside. The door flew open and Janine was embraced by two thin arms that clutched her in a tight hug.
“Mom.” Janine’s voice broke as she wrapped her arms around her mother.
Her mother pulled her inside. Rocko quietly stepped in with Pinky on his heels. The small set of luggage was magically pulled inside behind him. There hadn’t been much time to pack. Just the essentials. The rest was left behind.
Pulling out of her mother’s arms, Janine looked around the familiar home. Not much had changed in the past year or so since she had last been here. It still had that cramped feeling of too much stuff stuck in too little space. Sneakoscopes whirled from every shelf and table top. Mirrors cast reflections on every corner. Even Rocko took up his post once again on his dusty mat that had been left behind. Maybe not apparent to everyone who entered, but these were the signs that a Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher resided in this home. A teacher who had been discharged many years ago, after cracking under the pressures of his work.
“Where’s Dad?” Janine asked, finding it hard to speak with her throat so tight with tension.
Her mother brushed her hand over Janine’s hair, fussing over the tangles like a mother over a young child. “He’s in his study. He’s in there a lot.”
Janine sighed. She was home and she was safe, for now. But when would she see Harry again? Rubbing her face tiredly she tried to push out the dark thoughts that she might not see Harry ever again.
Gossip
Author: Illyria
Date: 02-10-08 11:50
Illyria left her private chambers and moved along the corridor in the direction of an old storage room she'd managed to stumble on yesterday. The room was filled to the brim with old equipment, like broken telescopes and ancient astrolabes. In recent weeks, Illyria had felt the old itch to invent something. Perhaps tinkering with the old tools might satisfy her desire to build something from scratch.
She reached one of the moving staircases when she heard a voice say, "Did you hear?"
Illyria looked around and didn't anybody, not even a ghost. She realized someone in one of the paintings had spoken, although not to her. The figure, a man with a feather in his cap that often fell into his face and tickled his nose, gossiped with someone in another portrait.
"What is it, Calvin?" a man who looked half-asleep asked.
"Someone's died!"
Several people in nearby portraits left their own pictures to get closer to Calvin and his news. Illyria, herself, found herself walking towards his painting. She stopped and listened intently.
Calvin, glad to have an audience, went on, "Professor Lancaster's wife took a bad fall. She and that baby of hers."
Illyria gasped. "Mary? Is she..." She'd wanted to say "all right" but remembered Calvin's initial information.
"Dead," Calvin finished. "Neck broken. That's what I heard anyway."
"Who told you?" the sleepy man, who looked quite awake now, asked.
"Babs from several floors down. She heard it from Jonesy, who heard it from an eyewitness."
"And the baby?" Illyria asked. "Alex?"
Calvin shrugged. "Don't know."
Illyria felt a stinging behind her eyes and knew that the tears would soon follow. She turned away from the now-crowded painting and went in search of someone who might know more about what happened.
Meeting Family
Author: Marzipan
Date: 02-10-08 12:22
Marzipan slipped into a booth at the Flour Shoppe in Diagon Alley and read the Daily Prophet while waiting for Weston to arrive with Carolina. Evidently, Carolina had some news she really wanted to share with her half-siblings. Marzi considered herself lucky that Carolina wanted anything to do with her, since their mother Georgia had effectively cut Marzi from her life. It had been Carolina's father who'd killed Marzi's before killing himself. Georgia still blamed Marzi for what had happened, even though Marzi had had nothing to do with the tragedies at all. Carolina, on the other hand, refused to let the feuds of Constantius Ravenscroft and Percival FitzRoy prevent her from having a good relationship with her half-sister.
Marzi didn't have to wait long before Weston arrived. He entered the Flour Shoppe to a tinkering of an overhead bell and caught sight of Marzi almost immediately. The smile he shot her almost melted Marzi's knees. Good thing she was already seated. Carolina came in after Weston, shaking snow from her hair. An unfamiliar young man came in after Carolina.
Weston dropped a kiss on Marzi's cheek. Marzi rose to embrace Carolina, who introduced her to, "Caleb Black, my fiancé."
Marzi expressed her congratulations, and then the two ladies sat down while the men went to order some baked goods from the counter.
"Weston told me that you two are engaged, too," Carolina said, smiling. "I guess I should offer you my congratulations as well!"
Marzi laughed. "It's officially unofficial," she explained. "I don't even have a ring." Her eyes fell on the enormous princess-cut diamond on Carolina's finger. "I bet your mum is happy," Marzi murmured after a moment.
"Our mum is very happy," Carolina replied. "She wants us to marry this summer, a June wedding."
"That's going to come up fast."
"I know. I have a lot of planning to do... and I was wondering... would you be my maid of honor, or matron of honor, if you and Weston marry before I do?"
Marzi grinned. "Really?"
"Yes, really. Well, will you?"
"Of course I will! And besides, it'll most definitely be maid of honor, since Weston and I can't legally marry anyway. I trust your Caleb is––"
"Pureblood, yes," Carolina finished. "Thank Merlin for that. Not that there's anything wrong with not being a pureblood," she quickly amended, patting Marzi's hand. "It just... it just makes it so much easier, you know?"
"I know," Marzi said quietly. She had done as Weston asked and thought of five cities outside of Great Britain to which she'd be willing to move, if it came down to that extreme. In no particular order she'd chosen Berlin, Germany; Austin, Texas in the United States; San Francisco, California in the United States; Vancouver, Canada; and Santorini, Greece. Weston had taken the list and already made inquiries regarding housing and career opportunities in all of those cities, just in case they needed to flee to any one of those destinations. Better to be a little prepared then to run without any real direction in mind.
The men returned with plates laden with sweets, the conversation turning to lighter things, such as Carolina's wedding preparations.
Research
Author: Lysander Stratford
Date: 02-10-08 12:43
Lysander had gotten into contact with all the book dealers he knew around the globe, especially those with a specialized genealogy collection. None had the coveted copy of The Somerset Family Line Lysander Somerset had requested Lysander locate for her, but the dealers had agreed to put out feelers to see what they could find out for him. After all, there was money it in for them. Whoever found it first would benefit in the end.
In the meantime, Lysander used the information Lysandra had thoroughly provided him with to conduct his investigation. The last known owner of the book had been Lysandra's own great great great grandfather, Aelianus Somerset. According to the oral family history, Aelianus been a collector of art and artifacts. Despite all the precautions he'd taken to ensure the safety of his treasures, he'd been burglarized at a very old age. The book, for whatever reason, had been assumed among the items stolen. At any rate, it hadn't been seen since before the burglary.
In Lysandra's notes, she'd written that it had always been assumed that the burglary had been an inside job. Unfortunately, no one seemed to know for sure, and none of the stolen objects had ever been discovered. A rough listing of what had been taken existed, and Lysandra had included it among the notes she'd given Lysander for his research. Perhaps if Lysander stumbled upon some of the other items, he'd find the book as well.
He took a break from his project to get Charlotte ready. Lysander intended on taking her to Blossom's for at least part of the day, while he ran the front counter at Twice Told Tales. Charlotte blubbered on about wanting to stay home, but eventually she agreed to let Lysander dress her in her warmest coat and pink sneakers. Lysander walked her down the street to Blossom's, made sure she was all right with him leaving her there with the other young children, and then returned to the store to work.
Noseless
Author: Emerald Green
Date: 02-10-08 13:52
Emerald has come to a decision. Gerti Crouch is a bigoted bitch. She fits right in with Snider and that Smythe-Jones woman at the Ministry. With Yaxley and a few others around as well. Growing up Muggle in the US, Emerald learned about persecution based on nothing more than skin color or religion. She thought it all so stupid and narrow minded. This idiocy based on bloodlines ranks right up there with biased based on skin color, religion, and what part of the country one is from.
A light snow has started falling and the clouds moving in threaten rain or, worse, sleet. Emerald's glad that even though overall today is nicer than it's been being for these lessons, she still bundled up. Emerald's fairly certain that a hurricane and a tornado and soccar ball sized hail could be going on all at once and Gerti Crouch still would not let the Nons move inside for the apparition lessons.
Staring at the hoop several feet away, Emerald takes a deep breath and focuses on herself being in the middle of that hoop. So far she's managed apparating into her hoop several times now but none have been truly, one hundred percent successful. Each time one or more parts of Emerald had remained outside of the hoop. Every time she's splinched, Emerald can't help but thinking how odd it feels and how even stranger it is to be standing inside a hoop, looking out at one's own hand, or foot, or hair, or whatever.
There are several cracks and pops as others apparate from their respective spots to inside their hoops. Emerald looks around, gleeful that she's inside her own hoop then promptly starts checking to see what she left behind.
Drat.
Her nose is hanging in mid-air. Emerald finds that both cringe worthy and utterly fascinating. She keeps bringing a hand up as though to feel where her nose should be but chickens out each and every time. When her nose is restored and she's reset for another apparating attempt, Emerald is kicking herself for not having the guts to touch her noseless face.
Resolutely setting her jaw, Emerald tells herself that this time she'll be completely successful.
Bearer of Bad News
Author: Saffron
Date: 02-10-08 17:06
Saffron steps out of the castle, instantly aware of how the temperature has dropped in the last little bit. The first drops of sleet hit her in the face, stinging cheeks already wet. AJ is right behind her, stopping to also feel the sleet on his face before winding a scarf so that it covers up to his cheeks and huddling down into the thick coat he wears. Saffron reaches out to give AJ a squeeze on his shoulder. He acknowledges it by patting her hand before walking in the direction of the main gate. He could have Floo'd to his destination but Saffron can't blame him for wanting the time it takes to walk off the grounds before delivering news he doesn't want to give.
Saffron's gaze lingers a moment longer on AJ's retreating form. She'd offered to go, thinking perhaps a woman's touch would help but AJ thought it best if he go in case his physical strength is needed. Saffron sighs and tears her eyes away, questioning herself on why she had no inkling this was coming. What's the use of having the gift of foresight if it never works when she most needs it?
Turning in the direction of the Nons' apparition lessons, Saffron trudges along, fighting back tears she thought she finally had under control. She's got the easy task. AJ is off to a portrait studio where Evan Lancaster is most likely impatiently waiting for his overdue family.
Madam Pomfrey had sent Jack Emerson for assistance. He came across Bambi, AJ, and Saffron talking and after he'd stammered out that Professor Lancaster's wife is dead and help is needed, they'd followed him at a run. It's not that Poppy couldn't move Mary on her own, it's that she didn't want to do that without knowing that Plum was seen to. When they arrived, Poppy already realized that poor Jack must be traumatized as well though at that point she had no idea just how much.
They'd gotten Mary moved and Poppy was starting to treat Plum for shock when Plum, in a voice utterly devoid of emotion and inflection, told them that her mother, Alex, and she had been on their way to meet her father. Mary had wanted a real family portrait. With some coaxing to answer direct questions, Plum told them the location of the photographer.
Plum also told them that Mary had been pushed. That's when Jack, who'd started getting glassy eyed, spoke up as well. Between the two of them, the others got an overall picture of what took place. With an overview of what happened, AJ and Saffron left Poppy and Bambi looking after the two students.
Saffron reaches the apparition lesson, standing on the periphery looking for both Aaron and Minerva McGonagall. Only then does she think about how she should have first gone to Harriet Snider but she doesn't find it the least bit odd that she automatically sought out both the man she still considers to be her husband even if the Ministry doesn't and the woman who would be running things for Dumbledore if the Ministry hadn't interfered. Catching their eyes, Saffron motions them over to give them the awful news.
Wedding Reception
Author: Bellatrix Lestrange
Date: 02-10-08 18:39
The party was in full swing. Like most weddings, it was now late enough in the evening that a good majority of the guests were far past sobriety. The wedding singer was knocking back firewhiskey and had just lurched into “Song 2” by Blur before realizing it was a pureblood wedding and singing a muggle song was probably not a good idea. Purebloods or not, most of the guests on the dance floor seemed disappointed when the song was cut short. One ancient wizard (apparently a great grandfather of an embarrassed looking child) was currently spinning a linen napkin around his head like a windmill and yelling “Woohoo!”, even though the song was over.
Bellatrix, looking immaculate in black of course with matching jet and diamond jewelry, crossed the floor looking for Rodolphus. He was well into it, sitting at a table in the corner with a glass of scotch in one hand and jabbing the table, attempting to make a point. Two other men sat with him, and Bella was convinced that at least one of them was recognizable as a member of the Knights of Walpurgis, or what Rodolphus liked to convince himself was his ‘Thursday Night Chess Club”.
After collecting a glass of champagne, Bellatrix wandered over towards a couple of chairs placed against the carved paneling of the great hall. Rodolphus would not doubt find her in his own time, once he was done expostulating about whatever it was. She picked up the occasional words, something to do with the island of Sark off the Channel Islands, and then it was back to chess predictably.
Just as she was about to sit down she felt a light touch on her arm, and turned around to find Revan Brandon, grinning from ear to ear with a striking woman with jet black hair on his arm. Dressed in scarlet, Bellatrix recognized his new bride.
“Revan,” she said, placing a kiss on his cheek. “Rodolphus and I thank you for the invitation and we are delighted to be here.”
He grinned. “May I introduce my wife, Katalin Bathory?”
“Bellatrix,” she said in a somewhat accented English. “I’m glad you could come to our wedding. Have you been enjoying yourself?”
“Yes, its lovely, and you have a wonderful home, Revan,” she said with a smirk. “This is the first time in two hundred years you’ve opened the house to guests I understand?”
“Quite,” agreed Revan. “My family was always proud to consider itself part of that ancient English custom of the extremely rich wellie boot brigade, and content to let itself decline into well mannered squalor. Now I’m the head of family I intend to get out a bit more – dwelling in the past is done and over for the Brandon’s. Of course I imagine that’s why there’s such a turnout for the wedding.”
“Yes I can imagine,” mused Bellatrix. “No doubt half the guests came out of curiosity.”
Katalin laughed and touched Revan’s arm. “We should get together sometime, you and I,” she said to Bella. “I’ve heard many interesting things about you, and I think we have a lot in common.”
“Really?” Bellatrix couldn’t help the tone of superciliousness from her voice. “Then we must have lunch some time.”
She watched them both walk away, and sipped her drink thoughtfully. How exactly did this woman, a foreigner at best, feel she was her equal? Bellatrix doubted it, not many people knew the half of what she’d done, least of all Rodolphus. Lucius was probably the only one who had a fair inkling of her commitment to the pureblood cause. She decided to set up lunch with Katalin soon. Besides being a good forum for information gathering, she could size up the woman when she was on her own and see exactly what she was made of.