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A Letter
Author: Fionna
Date: 01-11-07 16:10
Herbology and its lesson on atomic green algae well behind her, Fionna sits cross legged on her bed with a NEWT study guide open before her. Also open before her is a letter from her mother.
The letter from Moira came this morning just as Fionna was leaving the Great Hall from breakfast on her way to Herbology. Although it's the first letter Moira has sent Fionna in a very long time, Fionna still waited until after class to open it.
Fionna had returned to her dorm room in Slytherin House and had gotten settled on her bed before reading the letter. She thinks it's a good thing she waited because otherwise she would have been in a piss poor mood during class and that would have meant possibly losing points Slytherin can't afford to lose.
Moira's letter doesn't ask how Fionna is. It doesn't ask how classes are going. There's nothing about how Moira's sorry she's not had contact with Fionna for ages or sorry for her behavior these past many months. The letter is nothing but more nagging about how Fionna's throwing away a perfectly good intellect and education by insisting on a career as a travel agent for Terrortours.
Fionna puts the NEWT study guide aside and picks up the letter, stuffing it into her nightstand drawer. Taking a clean sheet of parchment she pens a reply that she's sure will have her mother seeing red. When done she tucks it into an envelope, addresses it and seals the back then carries it out of her room to the owlery before heading down to the Great Hall for lunch.
Brawl
Author: Hermione Granger
Date: 01-11-07 20:00
As soon as Hermione's Neuroscience class let out for the day, she moved as quickly as she could to the exit of the auditorium. She'd made lunch plans with Ron, and since she knew that they were both on very tight schedules, she didn't want to waste any time dawdling. She hurried through the lobby at John Radcliffe Hospital and stepped out into the cold outdoors, continuing at a brisk pace until she found a secluded spot from which to disapparate.
She arrived only seconds later outside the Wyrding Way, where Ron already waited. His hands were stuffed into his pockets and he wore a woolen cap over his head that covered up the tips of his red ears. As soon as Ron spotted Hermione, his face broke out into a grin.
"I hope you haven't been waiting long!" Hermione replied, a little breathlessly as she swept in to kiss Ron on the lips. "Really, you could have waited inside. I would have found you."
"I haven't been waiting long," Ron replied, removing one of his hands from its cozy pocket to take one of Hermione's. "I just got here, really."
The two started walking down the relatively quiet road near St. Emrys, which was slowly starting to see some more construction. Already, a second building had joined the Wyrding Way as hangouts for the university crowd. Demeter's Diner was an American-style hamburger joint that served burgers, "fries", and milkshakes, along with other traditional diner foods.
Just as they reached the doorway, Ron felt a finger tap his shoulder. He paused and turned, but only saw a fist fly at his face.
"Henry!" Hermione shrieked, putting her hands on Ron's arms. Ron had staggered backwards but hadn't fallen. A thin trail of blood dribbled from the corner of his lip.
"What the hell are you thinking?" Hermione shouted at Henry. "Are you even thinking?"
"I'm thinking I hate the fact that you chose this low-class dunderhead over me," Henry seethed.
Hermione was about to say that she thought she'd made it perfectly clear why she'd chosen Ron over Henry when Ron suddenly barrelled forward and knocked Henry back.
"Ron!" Hermione shouted, but it was already too late.
Punches flew. Legs kicked. The men brawled and drew a crowd while doing it. It began small but then grew, until the manager of Demeter's Diner stepped outside and forced the two men apart. Hermione, usually able to keep her cool in the most difficult of situations, had found herself watching the entire exchange with her mouth open.
"I want both of you to leave the premises immediately," the manager said firmly, eyeing both men like a teacher might look at a student who'd been misbehaving.
"Don't worry, I'm going," Henry spat. Blood gushed from his nose.
He shot Hermione an unpleasant look, but the worst of it was reserved for Ron. Then he turned on his heel and walked across the street.
Hermione put her arm around Ron and guided him away from the gawking crowd. "Let's get you cleaned up."
"I was better, wasn't I?" Ron asked, attempting to lighten the situation.
Hermione frowned. "What was he thinking?"
"He wasn't," Ron replied. "At least no rational thought entered his mind. Guys do stupid things around girls they adore. I should know."
Hermione knew he was talking about the love potion he'd tried to use on her. She took his hand. "I can't believe you got banned from the diner and we hadn't even gotten to step inside the building yet." She cracked a small smile, though she was still quite upset about the fight.
Ron beamed. "I know. Wait until Harry hears about it." He sobered quickly. "I hope Henry doesn't give you problems at work."
"If he does, I'll quit," Hermione said. "I can only take so much."
"I'd hate for you to have to give up a job you like just because he's acting like a dick."
"Maybe something better will come up." Hermione tried to look on the bright side, though thinking positive wasn't always easy. She led Ron straight to St. Emrys, where she pulled him into one of the lavatories even though it said Ladies on the door and proceeded to tend to his battle wounds.
Talking With Ginny
Author: Brett Kingston
Date: 01-12-07 08:20
Finishing off the sandwich he'd been eating for lunch, Brett picks up his cup and goes for a refill of lemonade. Back at his table Brett stares at the rough sketch he'd made. Brett has a project starting for one of his architecture classes and this sketch is, in his opinion, a very good beginning.
"Mind if I join you?"
Brett looks up into the smiling face of his good friend Ginny Weasley. He moves things from the table while replying, "Well, I mind but if you insist."
Ginny laughs. "I insist. With you to pester why would I want to sit somewhere else? How have you been? I've not seen you in a few days."
"I'm good. Busy with school. How about you?"
"Things are going well. I've gone out a couple of times with Kelvin Zeigler and when not in class or studying or doing an assignment I've been helping out at the Diagon Alley shop."
"Kelvin Zeigler. He's the one from Nevada, right?"
"That's he," Ginny nods. "How's Orei? Seeing her this weekend?"
"Orei is great and yes, we're getting together Saturday. How did you know it's a Hogsmeade weekend?"
"I'm going to help in the shop there. George said it will probably be fairly crowded and busy because it's a Hogsmeade Saturday."
"I can't wait. It seems forever since she and I saw each other."
Ginny and Brett talk more about the coming weekend until each has to leave for a class.
Magic in the Roman Republic
Author: Bronwyn Dewhurst
Date: 01-12-07 11:08
Seated at her desk in the relatively large-sized classroom in which Magic in the Roman Republic took place, Bronwyn flipped open her notebook to a clean page and printed today's date on the top, left corner. The promise ring Toby had given her seemed to glimmer in the lamplight, and it set off jitters of excitement beneath Bronwyn's skin. Anytime she glanced at the ring, everything else around her seemed to disappear while all she could think of was Toby and the future Bronwyn would have with him. She couldn't wait to marry him but Bronwyn wanted to finish her studies before she did.
For someone who fell asleep in History of Magic class everyday while at Hogwarts, Bronwyn had signed up for several different history courses while at St. Emrys and intended on taking more. She found she liked it, though her first academic love was definitely communications. Bronwyn still hadn't officially declared her major but had a strong feeling WWN broadcasting was not only something she'd do during her university career but something she'd also do in the future as an adult in the working world. At least, so she hoped.
Bronwyn's professor for Magic in the Roman Republic was an interesting character. He was a tall, British wizard with skin so tanned it almost looked unnaturally orange. He had to be in his 50s, at least, though Bronwyn would almost guess he'd reached 60 already. He always wore black and his dark hair was long and swept back into a ponytail. His voice was quite scratchy, probably because he'd smoked a lot of cigarettes in his life time.
Bronwyn had taken his other class, Magic in the Roman Empire, last term. She'd enjoyed it immensely, even though she'd only earned an A in the class. Hopefully she'd get at least an E this time around.
"I hope you all ate lunch before coming here," Bronwyn's professor rasped, when he stepped to the front of the room. "We'll be discussing in large part a grand feast that happened between the Roman Consul of Magic and the Dictator Sulla. You'll probably get hungry if you haven't eaten."
He didn't have any lecture notes to spread out on the podium at the front of the classroom because he had everything memorized. "I always say the three basic food groups are alcohol, cigarettes, and ice cream," ticking off each one with a finger, "but to each his own."
Some of the students snickered, including Bronwyn.
"Now then, let's get right to it. Lucius Cornelius Sulla became dictator of Muggle Rome in 82 BC..."
Coach Farnon?
Author: Isolde
Date: 01-12-07 11:32
Now that Isolde was back on her feet, so to speak, she spent a lot of her time at Salisbury Stadium watching the Snakes' Quidditch practices. During the mid-season trials, several new players had been added to the roster. They included Antigone Mars as first chaser and Craig Whipple and Marco Pinkstone as alternates. Isolde had no complaints about any of the three. They were all great chasers in their own right.
Coach Hannigan liked having another set of eyes on the field. He valued Isolde's opinion immensely and often came to her for ideas on plays or ways to make the team mesh better during game-play. Isolde realized that she was pretty good at giving her opinion, but she missed playing the sport more than anything.
Fulbert blew his whistle and called for the players to take a break. Then he went over to where Isolde sat in the stands and sat down next to her.
"Have you ever thought about getting into coaching?" he asked her.
Isolde shook her head. "No. I've always thought I'd be a player and nothing more."
"Plenty of athletes, both in our world and the Muggle one, become coaches after sustaining injuries while playing sports. You've got an eye for this, Farnon. You could be great."
"Maybe," Isolde replied, "but I'm not sure it's what I want." She sighed and blew a stray hair from her face. "I miss flying. Sometimes I don't see why I can't do it anymore. It's not like I really need my legs to play Quidditch."
"You're balance is off," Fulbert pointed out. "Isn't it true?"
She sighed again and nodded reluctantly. "I can't always sit still either. It doesn't always feel natural." She blew the stray hair again and tucked it behind her ear. "Maybe I need to face the facts that my career is over."
"It doesn't have to be," Fulbert reminded gently. "I want to tell you about something new that's coming up next season."
"A new team?" Isolde asked. She couldn't imagine being affiated with anyone but the Snakes.
"Yes, but not with the League. The Department of Magical Games and Sports is creating a Little League for children not yet old enough to attend Hogwarts. Only ten teams will be formed in the trial season. If it's a success, more may follow. I think you should consider coaching one of the Little League teams."
Isolde couldn't imagine herself coaching 10 year olds, but somehow the idea caught her interest. "Can you give me more information about it?"
"I'll fill you in on what I know and then give you more information as I get it," Fulbert replied, cracking a smile. It was good seeing Isolde find enthusiasm in something new.
Back Home in Wales
Author: Carys
Date: 01-12-07 11:48
Alun and Mairwen Hanham lived in a quaint cottage on a large piece of land outside Cardiff. A small stream cut right across the property, just yards from the front door. A small, wooden bridge arched right over it. Carys stood right in the middle of the bridge and held onto both of Tristan's little hands, while he giggled as he looked into the babbling water.
Just as Carys decided it was too cold to be out any longer, Mairwen called from the front door. "Lunch!"
Carys scooped Tristan up into her arms and carried him to the cottage. She took him straight to the sink in the kitchen to wash his hands. Then she set him into his high chair. Alun, who shamelessly doted on his grandson, set about feeding the boy while Carys went to wash her hands and help Mairwen bring the remainder of food to the dining table.
Mairwen had fixed simple sandwiches, but had arranged them elaborately on a plate. The entire dining table was set up to look like a showroom one might see in a real estate or furniture catalog. Plates were set on place mats. All the silveware was lined up perfectly. Napkins were folded expertly.
Carys remembered that Mairwen had always done it just like this and the thought made her smile. She sat down on Alun's other side and helped herself to a turkey sandwich.
"Another letter arrived from your father this morning," Mairwen said, pouring Carys a glass of lemonade.
Jean had written to Carys twice since she moved to Wales. She'd written him immediately upon arriving at her grandparents' home but not since. It wasn't that Carys didn't want to keep in contact with Jean. She just didn't know what to say. Perhaps she could make herself sit down and describe what it was like living back in Cardiff. Any news would give Jean comfort in prison. She could even include photos.
"I think you should invite that boy over," Mairwen continued. "I'd like to meet my grandson's father."
Carys waited until she'd swallowed her bite and corrected, "He's not a boy. Griff is..." she tried to find the right word, but finally settled on saying, "I'll send him an invitation."
(Urania) Unexpected Gift
Author: Illyria
Date: 01-13-07 07:55
Urania flooed to the Ministry of Magic and followed the throng of Ministry employees towards the lifts. The smell of coffee drew her away from them. She stepped in line at one of the many refreshment stands newly placed throughout the Ministry building and ordered a caramel frappuccino. Then she moved back to the lifts and eventually took one to the Department of Mysteries.
She went straight to her desk, unloaded everything she carried except the coffee cup, and sat down, closing her eyes for a moment. Urania was tired. She'd gone to bed too late last night and woken up too early this morning.
When she opened her eyes again she saw a box that previously had not been on her desk. Caden stood on the other side of her desk. He looked smug, like he'd done something no one else could have ever done. Urania appraised him curiously. Caden had changed ever since that evening in Knockturn Alley, when they'd been mugged. She couldn't quite place her finger on what made him different now, but something just wasn't the same.
"What's this?" she asked, putting down her coffee cup to open the large box.
"Something I know you had your eye on," Caden replied. "Open it," he commanded.
Curiosity got the better of Urania. She pulled back the lid and drew back the tissue paper that hid the item in the box. When she saw what was beneath the paper, she gasped aloud.
"Caden! It's my dress! The one from Narcissa's! How could you...? How did you...?" She looked up at him with big eyes. "It's too expensive. You spent too much on me."
"Nonsense," Caden replied softly. He lowered his scarred hand onto one of Urania's and tenderly clasped it. "Nothing is every too much for you. I knew it would make you happy."
"But Caden..."
"Urania. Accept it. Please."
He looked at her so adoringly, yet so determinedly, that she could do nothing but thank him for the lovely gift.
Black Alder
Author: Marzipan
Date: 01-13-07 08:13
After breakfast in the Great Hall, Marzipan trudged through the snow to the greenhouses. She'd mostly set them up last night for today's classes but had a few last minute preparations to make before the third years arrived. By the time the Slytherin and Ravenclaws entered Greenhouse 1, Marzi had thoroughly thawed out. She suspected it wouldn't take very long for her students to adjust to the change in temperature, too.
"Good morning, class," Professor FitzRoy greeted. "Today we will contiinue our discussion on wand trees. In particular, we will discuss black alder. Can anyone tell me where black alder commonly grows?"
Philippa Fox raised her hand. "Black alder grows throughout most of Europe and Russia. It's also found in Iran, Turkey and North Africa."
"Well done. Five points to Slytherin. Black alder was introduced to North America in colonial times and now commonly grows throughout Canada. It typically grows alongside streams and rivers, or on wet ground. Who can tell me what family Black Alder belongs to and what the scientific name is? Yes, James?"
James Lennox answered, "Black alder belongs to the birch family. The Latin name is Betulaceae."
"Good. Five points to Slytherin."
Marzi pointed to Black Alder saplings on the table. "Young Black Alder branches are smooth and slightly green in color. As the tree ages, the bark turns dark grey and is fissured. If you touch the branches, you'll see that some are sticky."
The students reached in to touch the plants.
"Because of the stickiness, the second part of Black Alder's Latinate name is glutinosa."
Marzi pointed to larger branches on the table. They had two types of flowers on them. "Black Alder is monoecious. Who can define monoecious for the class? Edward?"
Edward Croft replied, "Monoecious means that the tree bears both male and female flowers."
"Correct. Five points to Ravenclaw."
Marzi went on to point out the differences in the flowers before moving on to another topic related to Black Alder.