|
|
Saturday at Home
Author: Carys
Date: 04-20-12 17:14
Carys sat in the window seat with a book and idly watched her son play with his kitten. Snowy was still quite small, but he had grown a bit since Christmas. He followed Tristan around like a puppy and slept with him in his bed. The two were inseparable, except when it came to bathtime. A typical cat, Snowy didn't particularly care for water.
"Can me and Snowy play outside?" Tristan asked, while he wagged a mouse stuffed with catnip in front of the little kitten. Snowy swiped his paws out at it and rolled over onto his back, using all four limbs in an attempt to catch it.
"It's too snowy outside, love," Carys replied, glancing out the window. The yard was covered in a thick layer of fresh snow. However, nothing was coming down at the moment.
"But Snowy likes it when it's snowy," Tristan insisted. He dropped the mouse onto the kitten's tummy. Snowy held it down with his front paws and kicked at it with his back ones.
Tristan got up off the floor and went to sit by his mother. He pressed his nose against the window, fogging it up in front of his face.
"Snowy will get all wet, and you know Snowy doesn't like getting wet," Carys replied. She marked her place in the book and set it aside.
"Not if Snowy's got wellies."
"I don't think they make wellies for cats, much less kittens."
Tristan pulled himself away from the window and looked at his mother very seriously. "They should."
Carys laughed. "Well, even if he did have on boots, his belly would get wet because he's so small and the snow is so high."
"Raincoat!"
"For kitties?"
"Yes!" Tristan exclaimed.
"What's going on in here?" Griff asked, coming into the room and sweeping up Snowy, who had tired of the mouse already. Snowy started purring and then climbed onto Griff's shoulder. Also like most cats, Snowy liked to climb as high as possible, and Griff was one of the taller objects in the house.
"Dad," Tristan said, scrambling off the seat and stopping before his father, "Snowy needs winter clothes."
"He's already wearing his winter coat," Griffin said, reaching up to stroke Snowy's thick fur.
"No, Dad. He needs a real coat for when we go outside."
Tristan held out his arms to take the cat and nestled it to his chest once it had been given to him. Snowy started purring again.
"Well, I know they do make clothes for dogs and probably cats, but I'm not sure Snowy will want to wear them. Cats can be finicky."
"What's finky mean?"
"It means picky or choosy."
"Oh, well, I'm going to ask great grandpa what he thinks." And with that, Tristan left the room with Snowy still clutched to his chest.
Griffin sat down next to Carys. "Where does he get his ideas from?"
Carys smiled. "I'm not sure." She shifted position so that she was leaning against him and glanced at the engagement ring on her finger. They hadn't talked very seriously about wedding plans yet, only occasionally mentioning things that interested them, such as possible venues and what kind of food they might like to eat at the reception.
Griffin put his arm around her and kissed the top of her head. "This is nice. We should have shacked up a long time ago."
Carys laughed. "I guess it did take us a long time to get here, but I'm glad so we did."
"Me too," Griffin murmured. "Me too."
Sixth Sense
Author: Fritz Schnackenpfefferhausen
Date: 04-20-12 17:40
"Come on, Domino."
Fritz is kneeling beside his bed, peering under it where his black and white kneazle is crouched. Domino is as far away from Fritz as possible. Fritz doesn't know why, but the kneazle always seems to know when it's time to go to the vet. It's like a sixth sense.
Domino does well in a carrier, having traveled that way between home and Hogwarts more than just a few times. So, Fritz knows that it's not the carrier in plain view that has the kneazle hiding in the deepest corner it could find in Fritz's room. Domino just knows it's time for a checkup.
"You'll get to see Coco," Fritz coaxes. "You like Coco."
Domino doesn't even blink at Fritz.
Fritz sighs and stands up, turning to see his mother standing in the doorway. "Why don't you just do magic to get him out?"
"You know I can't do magic here, or not much if you want to keep your computer in good working order," Fritz replies.
Mitzi shrugs. "I know, but you'll never get him out that way."
Fritz looks around the room. He spots his old broomstick halfway behind his closet door and moves toward it, hoping he can use it to nudge Domino out from under the bed. Fritz closes the closet door so that the kneazle can't bolt inside it, and Mitzi keeps her position in front of the bedroom door in case Domino chooses to head that way.
Fritz kneels down and pokes his Lightning Bolt under the bed. Domino puts up a good effort resisting but eventually slinks out from under the bed. Mitzi sweeps him up into her arms and then guides him into his carrier.
Domino turns around and shoots Fritz a dirty look.
"Thanks," Fritz tells his mother.
"You're welcome. Are you late for your appointment?"
"Not yet, but we should be going very soon," Fritz says. He grabs a money bag and makes sure he's got enough money to pay for the visit to the veterinary healer.
Mitzi says, "Tell Coco I said hello," and then leaves Fritz's room.
"I will," he calls out after her. He stuffs the money pouch into his jacket pocket and then gives the room a cursory glance to make sure there's nothing else he needs to take with him to Hogsmeade, other than Domino of course.
That's when he hears a quiet moan from his closet. Fritz looks at the closed door for a long moment and debates simply ignoring the sound, but curiosity gets the better of him, as it always does where Berthold Beatenberg is concerned.
He crosses the room, opens the door and picks up the book Frau Hockenheim had given him.
"What?" he asks rather abruptly.
Berthold's face doesn't appear, but his voice says, "I feel that something is happening."
"What is happening?" Fritz asks.
Berthold doesn't answer at first, but when he does he moans again and wails, "I don't know! Something terrible!"
Fritz shakes his head and impatiently asks, "How do you know?"
"Call it a gut feeling."
Fritz chucks the book onto the floor. "You don't even have a gut."
He doesn't wait to see if Berthold has a retort. Instead, he closes the closet door, goes to Domino's carrier, and carries it downstairs. Fritz calls out a goodbye to his mother, steps outside the house, and disapparates for Hogsmeade.
After the Apparition Lesson
Author: Jolyon
Date: 04-20-12 18:23
Last year, Jolyon had monitored a few of the apparition lessons when Professor Flitwick had been busy with other things. This year, Jolyon was Professor Flitwick. That was to say, he was Head of Ravenclaw House, and Illyria was in Jolyon's old shoes. They had worked it out that Jolyon would attend the lessons for the most part, but Illyria would fill in on occasion. Who knew? Maybe one day she would wind up Head of Ravenclaw too.
The second lesson had just ended and had been quite more dramatic that the first one, what with all the splinching, but the lecture itself had been quite tedious. During the course of the lesson, Jolyon had wondered how long Wilkie Twycross had been teaching apparition lessons and if he ever bored himself. Somehow, Jolyon doubted that Twycross knew just how boring he actually was.
The students filed out of the Great Hall, thankful to have another lesson behind them. Jolyon stayed behind with the other teachers to rearrange the furniture, while Wilkie collected his hoops and talked to Professor Dumbledore, who had just stopped by to say hello and see how the second lesson had gone.
The professors made quick work of getting the Great Hall back to normal. Jolyon said a quick goodbye to Twycross, whose long-winded description of reforms from the Department of Magical Transportation seemingly did little to bore Dumbledore, and then exited the Great Hall with plans to visit the stables.
He met an owl en route. It bore a letter from his mother and dropped it into Jolyon's hands before flying to the Owlery to rest.
The note was precise.
Jolyon,
Your father is ill. We're at St. Mungo's. Come as soon as you can.
Jolyon stopped in his tracks. The last time his father had been ill at St. Mungo's, it had all been a sham. Surely Emanuel wasn't up to his old tricks again. They had made such progress lately that Jolyon loathed to think that his father was slipping back into old, bad habits.
Despite his reservations, Jolyon changed direction and headed for Hogsmeade, where he disapparated to St. Mungo's.
House Hunting
Author: Harry Potter
Date: 04-20-12 20:52
Sprinting up a walkway of dark slate either kept clear of snow by a charm or cleared today for showings, Harry skids to a stop at the base of the single step up to a small porch. After catching his balance on the porch rail, he smooths his hair, makes sure his shirt is tucked, and goes inside, calling out, "Hallo? Ginny? Mrs. Copperpot?"
"Back here, Harry!" Ginny calls in reply.
Back here is found going from the small entrance hall through a cozy sized parlor into a dining nook and then into the kitchen. Connie Copperpot of Davies & Llewellyn is standing at an open door, facing into whatever the door opens onto, talking (presumably) to Ginny.
Ginny steps through the doorway, sees Harry and though she smiles he can see the flash of irritation in her eyes. Stepping forward to kiss her hello he apologizes, "I'm sorry I'm late. I was held up at work."
"Filing held you up?" Ginny dryly asks.
"Actually, yes, but the story can wait. What have I missed?"
Connie Copperpot sweeps her arms to encompass the kitchen, "I've been pointing out the features in here."
"I've looked at all the others but unless you are just dying to see the other rooms, I think we can move on to the next house."
"You don't like it?" he asks.
"It's not that. It's a nice house but even though there are three bedrooms, it's the same size as what we have."
"Then let's go on to the next house."
Mrs. Copperpot perkily says,, "The next house is larger in square footage, is four bedrooms, and boasts a large family room."
The disapparate to the next address, a place on the outskirts of Shrewsbury. It's really nice, great hardwood floors, decent sized bedrooms, and the family room is indeed large. Harry can tell without asking that Ginny is less than impressed by the kitchen, which compared to the rest of the house does seem small and the arrangement of counter workspace in relation to the stove and fireplace doesn't seem as functional or as thought out as it could have been.
Four houses later Mrs. Copperpot tells them, "There's one more on the list. It's in Godri "
Mrs. Copperpot abruptly stops speaking and colors slightly. Always quicker on the uptake than he, Ginny gives her a smile that to Harry looks like one of reassurance. Feeling somewhat clueless Harry quizzes, "Godri?"
Ginny gives that smile again. "I believe Mrs. Copperpot was going to say Godric's Hollow."
"Yes, I'm sorry. I wasn't thinking."
Godric's Hollow. Living there again after so many years has crossed his mind on occasion, including when Ginny and he decided to see what's on the market before looking into adding on to Wildwood or buying land and building. It's his turn now to reassure. "No need to apologize. I can't speak for Ginny but I'd like to see the house."
"Yes, right then. I will tell you straight off that it looks smaller on the outside than in."
They arrive in somewhat large yard at the end of a lane, Mrs. Copperpot telling them, "Most of the houses along this stretch are Wizarding but a few are Muggle. As you can see, as I mentioned, the house looks small but I promise the inside is quite spacious."
Spacious it is. Front parlor, large kitchen, large dining room, smaller breakfast nook with the almost cliched bay window looking over a back garden area, a good sized family room with cathedral ceiling that somehow still feels cozy, a room that could be used as an office, workout room or for something else, five bedrooms and three and a half baths. The backyard is good sized as well with a storage shed and hen house.
Coming down the steps from the attic Harry asks Ginny, "What do you think?"
"I really like it. You?"
"It's my favorite of what we've seen."
"Do you think you'd be okay living in Godric's Hollow again?"
"I don't see why not. It's not as if we're discussing renovating my old house."
"Do you want to make an offer then?"
"If you do, yes."
A half hour later, after having walked through the house again, poking about more than they had on first inspection, the newlyweds make Mrs. Copperpot an offer to take to the house's current owner.
Perky And Cheeky
Author: Jet
Date: 04-20-12 23:44
Just before entering the restaurant Petra Karathanasis stamps snow off her boots then bends to give her hair a shake. While half upside down she grins at Jet through the window and waves. She holds the door for an older woman before sauntering over to him. "Been waiting long?"
A little puzzled at her cheeriness Jet shakes his head a single time. "A minute or two at most. You're awfully perky for someone who's just had a break-up."
"I am, aren't I."
"Perky AND cheeky. You're either experimenting with pepper up potions, you've made up with Chelsea, or you've met someone new already."
An immediate reply is forestalled whilst they are shown to a table. Seated across from each other, Jet waits for Petra to say something but her only response is to flash him a grin and flip open the menu.
"I hear they do an excellent Cornish pastie. Oooooh, but look at that. They've got chicken and leek pie, one of my absolute faves."
"You're ignoring my observation on purpose and, you know, for someone called Petra Karathanasis, you certainly do have a fondness for traditional British fare."
"My middle name is Castalia, did I ever mention that before? Petra Castalia Karathanasis. How's that for Greek?"
"You're stalling, which leads me to believe you met someone and aren't wanting to admit the how of it."
Setting her menu aside Petra lifts both shoulders up, hands turned palm up, a pretense of innocence playing across her smile and in the widening of her eyes.
They order, Petra opting for the chicken and leek pie and Jet going with the lamb stew made with stout and served in a bread bowl. Alone once more Petra asks, "How are things with Emerson?"
"Nuh uh. You are not diverting the conversation."
Petra tears a piece of bread from the roll she'd just selected from the basket the waiter had brought, pitching it at Jet. "You are no fun."
"I'm not the one playing at being somehow innocently cheeky or is that cheekily innocent?"
"You really want to know?"
"Yes."
"Don't laugh."
"Why would I laugh?"
"I met him "
"Him?"
"Yes, him. You know I go both ways. I met him because I splinched."
"You? Splinched?"
"I was distracted. I splinched. It happens. He had just moved in the flat above mine and just happened to be coming into the building. I was in the lobby. He came to my aid and as he works for the Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes he did not panic, was quick, and efficient."
"When was this?"
"Yesterday afternoon."
Jet's eyes narrow as he shrewdly deduces, "You've already slept with him, haven't you? No wonder you're so damned perky."
"I totally have and it was totally worth it. I think he's THE one."
"Does your new boy toy have a name?"
"He does but it's your turn to give over. You, Emerson?"
Jet is the one now shrugging and putting his hands up only his is more of a defeatist gesture. "We are seeing each other again but I get this sense she's trying too hard."
"Do you think that's because she's embarrassed still about how she behaved?"
"I think that's part of it but there's something else, something I can't put my finger on. At times, I think she's still obsessed with hypnotizing me but has to keep reminding herself to play it cool. Your turn."
"Matt."
"Matt what?"
"I'm not sure I want to tell you."
"I won't go checking up on him."
"That's not why."
"I'm going to find out soon enough even if you don't start dating him."
"You'd go asking around in the Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes for Matts wouldn't you? Or hang out in my lobby meeting the other tenants."
"I do need a new hobby."
"Fyde."
"Pardon?"
"Matthew Fyde."
Jet nearly chokes on his drink as he laughs, "You mean if you two married you'd be Petra Fyde?"
"Oh, shut up."