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Keeping Busy
Author: Nymphadora Tonks
Date: 02-06-07 17:57
Tonks had spent yesterday reflecting over the events from one year ago and wondering whether a year from now, she'd still find herself apart from the man she loved. She'd resolved not to pine for Remus after the new year and fully intended on committing to that resolution, but she truly wished that love would find them both. She knew she would be happy with him, even if he wasn't so sure.
Tonks didn't dwell on her thoughts today. Ever since the capture of Donal Douglas, she'd been busy following leads garnered from his various interrogations. She'd already compiled a list of missing persons that had some sort of connection to Douglas. A few had been found, though not all alive. Stolen items, personal and commercial, had been documented and, in some cases, recovered. She'd even managed to secure a few other arrests along the way, but closing every case that somehow related to Donal Douglas would take a while longer. The wizard had a mighty long rap sheet.
What Tonks longed most to find out more about was the Resistance. She knew there were other offices located around the world, including one in Great Britain itself, but she didn't know where any of them were or how many existed. At least 12... that much, she knew on account of the Cape Town office being called #12.
Douglas obviously knew something about the mysterious group, though since he wasn't an actual member, he didn't know all the ins and outs, particularly what Tonks wanted to know the most about.
Angelica Sanchez had already gone to trial and been sentenced to Azkaban. Douglas had yet to go on trial, since a true assessment of every crime he'd ever committed had yet to be tabulated. He currently resided in a Ministry holding cell but would likely see the court within the next few weeks.
Tonks liked having Douglas nearby because anytime she thought of something to ask him, she didn't have far to go to get the answers she needed. He was surprisingly forthcoming, perhaps since he knew it seemed unlikely he'd ever be a free man again and because he seemed to be a very proud individual. He was glad to tell of his exploits, especially the more challenging aspects of particular crimes.
The wizard was, no doubt, a criminal mastermind.
And Tonks, for one, was glad she finally had him where she needed him.
Trying Not To Yawn
Author: Sage Porter
Date: 02-07-07 16:39
Sage shifts in his seat, trying to fight off a yawn of boredom. Potions hadn't started off all that badly. They'd had a potion from last week to complete. Unfortunately that hadn't taken up all that much time.
When vials had been labeled, turned in, and work areas cleaned, Professor Slughorn gave the fifth year Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws an unannounced quiz. Even that wasn't so bad. Now though the Potions teacher is lecturing but in that way of his that where the professor name drops every other sentence. Sage finds the Professor Slughorn's need to constantly talk about famous and/or powerful people he knows somewhat tedious, especially since at this point in the school year, they've pretty much heard all these names before.
Sage is to the point of only half listening in his effort not to yawn himself to death. Time seems to be creeping along so slowly that it's as if class will never end, which means they'll never get supper. Sage's stomach rumbles a little at that thought.
The only good thing about the slowness of time for the moment is that it means Astronomy is still a long ways off. Since breaking up with Aubrey, Sage dreads any classes they have together. On Mondays that means Astronomy. It could be worse Sage supposes. One of her electives could be Arithmany and that would mean starting out Mondays and ending Mondays with having to be in the same classroom with her.
Professor Slughorn's ramble finally comes to an end and he dismisses the class. With a sigh of relief, Sage gathers his things and hurries to leave. As much as he hates the thought of Astronomy being that much nearer to time, Sage is also very hungry so he's glad to be heading to the Great Hall for dinner.
Another shot down attempt
Author: Epithymia
Date: 02-08-07 12:08
"Cael, maybe herbology isn't my thing." Epithymia sighed as she scratched at the boil on her arm.Apparently the plant she was working on decided it didn't like how she was holding it.
"Did you read in the book about it?" he asked staring at his book intently. Epithymia smiled, Cale was such a bookworm but he was so atractive that she didn't really care if he made her look like a dork.
"Uh...no, you know I hate reading the book. It is pointless because I always fall asleep. It is boring, couldn't you help me with this? You could tutor me!" she sexclaimed. She thought that it was a very good idea. Cael knew she had a crush on him but he was afraid to make moves so she decided to take matters into her own hands.
Cael just looked at her and sighed. "Mia, you have to eventually learn to do this on your own. I can't pass your herbology exams for you."He said smiling a cute smile as he refused to help."You really are a smart girl and I know you can do it."
Epithymia turned and pouted. She wasn't that smart. Sure she could kick his butt at potions, and DADA but herbology wasn't her strong point. "Alright then. Next time you go to Hogsmeade though you owe me a butter beer for resisting my charms."
With that she turned back to her vindictive plant, and her herbology book.
It's Official
Author: Isolde
Date: 02-09-07 08:09
Isolde sat in the offices of Dexter Littlefield and Milo Hogg, director and assistant director of the new British and Irish Quidditch Little League. She'd just filled out any remaining paperwork and was now officially the coach for the Plymouth Polliwogs.
Dexter pushed an open folder full of sketches over his desk towards Isolde. "This is what the uniforms will probably look like," he said. "The designs have gone through several stages already, but it seems like this is the way we're going to go."
They looked like standard Quidditch uniforms, just like the Slytherin one Isolde had worn while at Hogwarts and the Snakes one she'd donned while the star chaser for Salisbury, only these were for children and would be much smaller. The Polliwog uniforms were a dark, olive green and had a small emblem of a polliwog on the left breast.
"What do you think?" Milo asked, smiling.
"I think they look great," Isolde replied. She thumbed through the rest of the sketches and then handed the entire folder to Dexter.
"Trials are going to happen in July. The final date or dates haven't been set yet, but we'll keep you posted on that. The first match will probably be in September."
"Will the rules be the same?" Isolde asked.
"Essentially, yes," Dexter began. He clasped his hands together and leaned back in his chair. "There will be seven players: keeper, seeker, three chasers, and two beaters. Each score made by a chaser is ten points and capturing the snitch brings 150 points to the team who catches it. Where Little League Quidditch differs is that the bludgers will not be the same ones used professionally or even at Hogwarts. They will be softer. Also, the matches will be timed, which means they may not end with the successful capture of the snitch. Just how long each match will run has not yet been decided, but the point is to avoid one that runs for hours and hours or longer. We're dealing with children who are not yet old enough to attend Hogwarts. We're also dealing with their parents."
Isolde nodded.
"Plymouth doesn't have a Quidditch Pitch," Milo said, "but temporary structures are going to be set up in all the cities that are hosting a Little League team. Depending on how successful the program is, something more permanent may be constructed in the future."
"Do you have any other questions, Isolde?" Dexter asked.
She thought a moment before shaking her head. "No, I can't think of any right now."
"If something comes to mind, send us an owl." Dexter rose from his chair. "We'll keep in touch."
Isolde and Milo also rose. She shook the hands of both men and then left the Ministry of Magic for home.
Changes
Author: Carys
Date: 02-09-07 08:48
In many ways, Carys was much happier living in Wales with her grandparents than she'd ever been while living in Paris under Jean Beauvais' roof. Her grandparents had always been loving and kind, never even appearing to be disapproving of teenage mother Carys and her lovechild. She knew they'd thought she'd made some very bad choices ever since Owain's death, but she also knew that they loved her unconditionally. It was nice to live with people who really cared.
Carys couldn't help but miss Jean, though. Despite everything he'd ever done, she knew that he cared for her too. It had been Jean who'd come through for Tristan in the end, and Carys would never forget that. Carys and Jean corresponded somewhat regularly, though Carys never really had anything new to tell her father.
Everyday was more or less the same. She got up early, tended to Tristan, helped Mairwen around the house, and went to bed after putting the baby down to sleep. Tristan slept through the entire night most nights. Carys' woke up a lot during the night and blamed it on having too much on her mind all the time. She thought about Owain often, and of Gaenor, whose presence she felt so strongly in her grandparents' house. There were pictures of Carys' mother everywhere.
Carys thought of her dad, too, who was currently in prison and would likely remain there for a very long time. In his last letter, Jean had said that Manoir Blanche would be sold. Everything he owned would go into storage or be sold in an estate sale. If there was something Carys could think of that she might like to have, then she should let him know as soon as possible.
She really didn't know what she wanted from that house. For so long, she'd absolutely loathed the place, but now that she'd left it and that it would be sold, she missed it a little bit. Carys really hated change but knew it was all a part of life. She would just have to grow used to the fact that things wouldn't stay the way she wanted them to.
Carys had thought of one change in her life she wanted to actively pursue. She felt terrible for imposing on her retired grandparents, even though she knew they really didn't mind having Carys and Tristan in their home. She thought about finding a part-time job, so that she could earn some money for the family. Carys knew she would have to see whether Mairwen would be okay with watching the baby for a few hours everyday, because that might be an imposition in itself.
First Sighting
Author: Ethan Somerset
Date: 02-09-07 10:00
Ethan left work early to go to an address he'd located via a Muggle telephone directory. He found himself standing across the street from a mid-sized, brown house. The garden was well-kept, even in winter, and there were roses blooming along the walk to the front door.
The home belonged to Tavish Towneley, according to the phone book and the appraisal district records Ethan had uncovered with the help of a very patient city worker. Ethan knew from the birth certificate of Finn Towneley, that Tavish was the baby's––perhaps his––father and that the mother was Marigold Towneley. Ethan didn't know whether or not Marigold still lived since she wasn't listed on any records he'd found. He also didn't know whether there were other children in the family.
Ethan debated walking across the street and ringing the doorbell, but then he wondered how he would approach the Towneleys. "Hi, I'm Ethan Somerset, and I think I might be your dead son Finn." They would never believe it, for what reason would they have to believe that Finn hadn't died? They probably never considered the possibility that their baby had been switched in the hospital. Why would they have?
A towncar came down the street and pulled into the drive by the house. Ethan knelt down to pretend to tie his shoe while he glanced across the street. An older man stepped out from the driver's side, while an older woman climbed from the passenger's side.
"I'll bring in the groceries if you get the door, Marigold," the man said, loud enough for Ethan to hear.
Marigold fished her house keys from her purse and went to the front door, while the man, persumably Tavish, went to the boot of the car to unload the groceries. Ethan longed to go across the street to help, but found himself walking away instead.
Had he just caught a glimpse of his real parents?
He disapparated as soon as he found a safe location to do so and went home.
Grabbing Warm Clothes
Author: Emerald Green
Date: 02-09-07 18:46
Emerald reaches the portal to Hufflepuff House and stops, wracking her brain for the correct password. On the rare occassions she's gone blank for the password there's been someone else also going in so she'd simply let that person give the password and follow along behind through the potral. Problem at the moment is that no one came this way from DADA, all preferring to go to the Great Hall for dinner. There's also no one from another year in sight who might be coming back to Hufflepuff House instead of going to eat nor has the portal opened to let anyone out.
Emerald closes her eyes then takes several deep breathes, remembering back to when this week's password was revealed. Opening her eyes again Emerald says, "Pomegranate."
The portal opens and Emerald steps through, passing through the common room without a glance around her. Once in the 5th year girls dorm room, Emerald drops her things on her bed then retrieves her coat, scarf, earmuffs, and gloves. She'll need them for the walk in the gloom to the greenhouses.
Back in January just before the deadline, Emerald had put her name in the goblet for the SAT's Best in Show: Magical Plants. To her surprise she'd been selected. After exchanging a number of letters with Uncle Woody, he knowing a great deal about plants since plnats are his business, and after speaking a few times with Professor Fitzroy, Emerald had decided upon a magical version of the weeping willow.
Emerald's willow is still more like a sapling, small enough to fit into a planter she can still pick up and move without help, even the magical kind. The feathery leaves of the tree seem to weep tears. The liquid has a number of uses, mainly in potions of the medical variety. The healthier the tree and, for lack of a better term, the happier it is, the higher the quality of its tears.
Part of caring for the weeping willow is collecting those tears. Emerald had meant to go earlier today to do that but time got away from her and before she knew it, it was 12:30 and time for History of Magic. Emerald wasn't free again until just minutes ago when DADA ended at 5:00. As long as she'll be at the greenhouse, Emerald's going to mix in some richer soil with what the willow is already in.
Emerald hurries back out of Hufflepuff House wanting to get the time in the cold to the greenhouse over with as quickly as possible. She also wants to hurry tending to her weeping willow so she can get back inside and to supper sooner rather than later.
Argument
Author: Marzipan
Date: 02-10-07 07:45
After taking a light breakfast in the Great Hall, Marzipan bundled up and strode quickly to the greenhouses, where she intended on setting up for her first class of the day, Gryffindor and Hufflepuff third years. Today, they would study rowan, one of many wand trees.
Marzi had just shed her coat and pulled off her mittens when a familiar voice called out to her from her desk.
"Weston," Marzi breathed, putting a hand to her chest. "You startled me."
He rose, and when he stepped into better light, she saw that he wore a troubled expression on his face.
"What's wrong?" Marzi asked, taking a few steps towards him to close the gap between them.
"My father came to me late last night," Weston started, after saying nothing for a long time. "He was drunk and raving."
Marzi didn't say anything, allowing Weston to continue uninterrupted.
"He apologized for never really being there for me and wished that he could do it all over again. I don't know if it was the alcohol talking or whether he spoke the honest truth." Weston let out a short laugh, though he seemed hardly amused about anything. "I found myself wishing it were true." He sighed and hung his head, speaking to his shoes rather than Marzi. "I more or less grew up without a father. I remember when I was very young, I used to wish I had one who would take me to Quidditch matches. Mum did all right, but I think she knew then and I know now that I missed something huge in my life."
Marzi understood, of course. She'd grown up without a mother, and whereas Weston had at least seen his on occasion, Marzi hadn't seen hers until relatively recently.
Weston looked up suddenly and gazed into Marzi's eyes. "He told me something else, something surprising. I don't want to believe it, but..."
"But...?" Marzi spoke for the first time. She had a feeling she knew what Constantius had said to Weston.
Weston shook his head as if trying to make sense of it. "My father said that when he was a boy at Hogwarts, your father convinced him to sneak into Hogsmeade so that he could perform some sort of ritual. He said that your father killed my father's cousin and that he tried to kill my father too."
"It's a lie," Marzi cried out.
"How do you know?" Weston queried. "I know you probably don't want to believe that your father may have a troubled past––"
"I know because my father told me the truth. He said that your father tried to kill him for whatever ritual he was trying to perform. My father did kill Daniel Lyttle, yes, but he did it out of self-defense."
"You knew about this a long time," Weston murmured, his eyes narrowing. "You asked me about Daniel Lyttle months ago but never told me why it was important."
"I didn't know how to tell you that your father tried to kill mine," Marzi replied.
"How do you know that it's not your father who's lying to you?" Weston asked.
"How do you know that it's not your father who's lying to you?" Marzi countered. "Besides, the man was drunk when he confided in you. How can you hold anything he told you as absolute fact? You don't even know the man, Weston. Why are you putting him on a pedestal?"
A few children entered the greenhouse for class.
Weston and Marzi knew that their conversation was over and immediately moved away from each other. Weston, having no business at Hogwarts, left the school grounds. Marzi, not having set up for class yet, quickly asked a few students to help her. She tried not to dwell on the argument she'd just had with Weston but really couldn't stop thinking about it. Hopefully, her students wouldn't notice how distracted she was behaving.
Ancient Runes Problem (AJ)
Author: Furnella Hodfuffer
Date: 02-10-07 08:29
As the 5th years filed in for Ancient Runes, AJ ticks off their names in his roll book. Setting the roll book aside AJ says, "Hand in your homework, please."
A hand shoots up.
"Yes, Olivia?"
"Number five really confused me so I didn't complete it, sir."
"Anyone else have trouble with number 5?"
All but Iris Audley raise their hands. "You were able to complete the last homework problem, Iris?" AJ ask.
"I think so. It was hard but I think I got at least part of it," the Slytherin teen replies.
AJ goes to a stand that has art posters on it. He finds the one he wants and positions the stand where the 5th years can see it. "Problem five involved looking at a copy of artwork done in the 1400s by a Norwegian artist. He hid twenty runes throughout the work."
AJ uses his wand as a pointer with a concentrated red light coming from its end. With the light he circles a deer grazing in the middle of the larger copy of the artwork in question. "What do you see here?"
Sage's hand goes up.
"The deer's two front legs form a version of Uruz."
"Exactly correct, Sage. Five points to Hufflepuff."
AJ asks the students, "What was it that confused you on this piece?"
Sage volunteers, "I can't really put my finger on it other than to say that when I was trying to find the runes in the picture I kept looking and looking but couldn't find anything that struck me as definately a runic symbol Until just now when you pointed out that deer, nothing seemed obvious to me."
Other heads nod in agreement.
AJ nods in return. "All right then, everyone open your texts to problem five of your homework. We'll work on this right now before moving on because today is more of this."
The room is filled with the rustle of pages being turned, quills being gotten out and ink bottles being set set down. When the sound quietens, AJ begins going over the piece of artwork with the students.
Birthday & Search Warrant
Author: Lysander Stratford
Date: 02-10-07 08:32
Lysander spent the early part of Wednesday morning doing little chores around his flat, as well as making sure Charlotte got dressed and properly fed. Then, once he'd showered, dressed and had something to eat, the pair went to Julian's flat.
"Birfday!" Charlotte exclaimed, when Julian opened his door. She held out a festive envelope in one small hand.
Julian grinned and kissed Charlotte on the cheek, accepting the gift from her.
"Happy Birthday, Jules," Lysander said, smiling. He'd purchased for Julian two tickets for a wine-tasting tour of Italy and France.
---
Meanwhile, Brent Trentson stood in Knockturn Alley with a couple of his colleagues. The locator spell had surprisingly shown Sebastian Taite as being in more than one place at once, spread out over great distances. Brent had a number of theories as to how that could be. Perhaps the locator spell had been performed incorrectly. Perhaps it had managed to tap into things that had once been touched by Taite, which could explain why he was everywhere. Maybe he'd splinched himself... but multiple times? Unlikely. The last theory was the most gruesome of them all. Maybe he'd been chopped to pieces.
Brent had worked in an effort to narrow down the sites with the locator specialist ever since the weekend, when the discovery had first been made. The closest set of coordinates matched the address of the Apoteca Themuaturga.
Brent entered the building alone and gave the interior a quick appraisal. It looked like a typical apothecary, with ingredients in vials and other glassware on every shelf. The more valuable items were located behind the counter, and Brent suspected if there was anything illegal in the building, it was hidden from plain sight, such as in a back room.
"May I help you?" a man addressed him. He wasn't tall or short, but was thin, wore black, and had hair dyed black and bright red. A name tag on the front of his robes read Sanderly.
"I'm looking for the owner."
"I'm afraid she's not in right now. Is there something I can do for you?"
Brent pulled a parchment from the inside pocket of his robes and handed it to Sanderly. "This is a search warrant."
He turned to wave to his colleagues through the window. They came inside and started rummaging through everything, confiscating a few things here and there.
"Y-you can't do t-this," Sanderly protested.
"Everything not pertinent to our investigation will be returned to you," Brent replied. "Please stay out of our way or you will be arrested."
Sanderly had no choice but to comply. He sank into a chair out of the way while Brent helped his colleagues search the place for Sebastian Taite.