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Table Sharing
Author: Ginny Weasley 
Date:   04-16-07 19:21

"Pardon me, the canteen is quite crowded this evening. Would you mind terribly if I sat here?"

Ginny looks up from the notes she's reading over to find a pair of intense blue eyes looking unblinkingly at her. The face to go with the eyes is handsome with a square jaw, full lips, straight nose, and light brown hair. To Ginny he looks to be in the age range of Bill and Charlie.

"Yes, certainly," Ginny tells the man before returning her attention to her notes.

"Pardon me again," the extremely cultured voice says. "I can't help noticing your photography textbook."

Ginny, looking up again, glances at closed book on the table and asks, "Yes?"

"I'm considering taking one or more courses in photography next term should it be offered. Do you have any reccomendations on who to take? Who to avoid?"

Ginny's eyes widen slightly with surprise. She knows she shouldn't peg people on sight as student or professor, especially with so many who didn't have a university when they were Ginny's age coming back as older students. Nonetheless, Ginny finds herself putting older faces into the professor or staff category, even when the older face is only 10 years old, give or take a couple of years.

"I'd thought you a professor or some other staff member," Ginny admits.

"As of this term I'm a bit of both. I'm taking several classes but I'm also teaching one course in political science and another on international affairs."

The man offers his hand to Ginny. "Cooper Perdue."

"Ginny Weasley. Your name is familiar for some reason."

Cooper gives Ginny a crooked grin. "I know of the Weasleys. You probably know my name because of my mother. Euphemia Smythe-Jones."

Ginny's smile turns to a frown and she flatly states, "Oh."

"I take it from that she's not your favorite person."

"Minister Smythe-Jones is why my father is out of a job and why two of my friends no longer work at the Ministry so no, she isn't my favorite person."

"I don't know Mother's reasonings for taking such actions but with some of the news stories that included Weasley names I'm sure her reasons were perfectly justified."

Ginny looks coldly at the man across from her. "I think it's best you find another table now, Mr. Perdue."

Cooper sighs. "Yes, I suppose it is, but first you wouldn't by chance be willing to share your opinions about those teaching the photography courses?"

Ginny tilts her head slightly, giving Cooper a get lost look. He sighs again and gets up. "Ah well. I'd say it was nice meeting you but I suppose it wasn't. Thank you for letting me share your table even if only for a short time."

Ginny's already given her full attention back to her notes so doesn't bother with a, "You're welcome," or even a goodbye.


Setting A Date (Parker)
Author: Blossom 
Date:   04-16-07 20:44

Parker puts two bowls of soup and fresh bread on the table. Although Tracey and Parker share the house with Tracey's suitemates from the St. Emrys residence hall, most Wednesday nights they have the house to themselves. The couple take turns fixing simple dinners on those nights and tonight was Parker's turn.

Parker let's Tracey know the soup's on the table then holds her chair for her. After she's sitting down Tracey says, "I've been thinking."

"Yes?"

"What if we get married sooner rather than later. We could do something small and quiet and still include our friends and your family. Afterwards I'll let my family know. They'll know their terror tactics against you not only didn't work but spurred us to get married long before planned."

Parker can't keep a grin off his face. "I'd marry you tomorrow if I didn't think Daria would kill me for making her miss our wedding. There's a Hogsmeade trip in a couple of weeks."

"You think we could pull it all together for then?"

"With Mom, Gran, and others helping, yes, I do. Would that suit you?"

"I think that would be wonderful!" Tracey says enthusiastically. "Let's eat later. There's time to get to Briar's tonight so I can talk to her about a cake. You could go to The Imperial Crown & Cauldron and reserve their large upstairs room for the reception. Oh, and I suppose we'd need to talk about a menu for the reception. I'll go to Briar's first and you can start talking with the restaurant."

Parker stands up and holds out his hand to Tracey. "Let's get going then!"


About the Prophecy
Author: Ethan Somerset 
Date:   04-16-07 20:59

"I must say that your desperation to know the truth is one of the things that keeps me going in this hellhole." Hattie Harsnip, decked out in her dull, gray prison robes, leaned back in her stiff chair and smiled cruelly.

"This may very well be the last time I ever visit you, Auntie, so let's make this worth both our whiles, shall we?" Ethan suggested impatiently. He and Hattie had been sitting in the visitor's room at Azkaban for the past twenty minutes. Ethan had felt as if he were talking into a brick wall rather than the witch who'd pretended to be his aunt.

"Did you like what you heard?" Hattie asked, changing tack only a little bit, "about the prophecy, I mean. Did it make you feel strong and powerful? Did it make you believe you could be more than just an auror trying to put together the pieces of his heretofore meaningless life?"

"I was under the distinct impression that for a long time you held my life in the highest regards."

"Until you decided you were better than the Dark Lord," Hattie snapped. She sighed and said the rest mainly to herself, "Though, I suppose I should have seen that one coming. You were meant to do what you did. I guess I just hoped you'd do something else."

"You mean, try to rule the world myself? Would you have been one of my minions, Hattie?"

Hattie cackled. "Maybe."

Ethan tried to get the conversation on track again. "How did you know that I was the boy with three names? It could have been anyone at that point."

"Yes, you're right. The prophecy was vague. It could have been anyone. Many people have three names, after all: a first, middle and last name. What my friend prophecied obviously wasn't enough for me to go on, but I was so intrigued that I just had to know who you were. I have sources with means of unraveling what might ordinarily be near-impossible to decipher. I had to pay a price, of course, and a hefty one at that, but at the time I felt it was worth the trouble."

"Who were your sources and what did you use as your bargaining chip?"

Hattie shook her head and smiled. "I won't rat out my contacts, but I will tell you what I had to give up to find you."

Ethan didn't say anything, silently begging for her to continue.

"My soul," Hattie finally said.

Ethan quirked an eyebrow. Obviously she was speaking figuratively.

"There's a book I think you should read. It's called Blackest Magick."

"I'll be sure and pick it up the next time I'm at the library," Ethan replied dryly. "I guess that's all we need to discuss."

"Yes, I guess so," Hattie said.

Usually, Hattie was the first to leave the room, but this time it was Ethan who left. He left without looking back.


Confrontation
Author: Marzipan 
Date:   04-17-07 20:03

The third year students learned about rubber plants on Thursday morning. Rubber plants were not only fine-looking plants but were also very useful for a number things. They harvested the plants' bulbs to split between Professor Slughorn and Madam Pomfrey. Any less than perfect specimins Marzi allowed her students to keep. Although not perfectly round, the bulbs made excellent bouncing balls.

In the next hour, the fourth years learned about the smoking rose bush. After lecture and discussion, they had the task of collecting the plant's petals, the smoke it emitted, and its thorns. Only one student pierced her thumb on one of the thumbs, and only because she forgot to pull on her gloves before handling her plant. Marzi used a simple healing charm on the bleeding thumb rather than send the poor girl to the Hospital Wing for so small an injury.

That class had just let out, giving Marzi a short break for lunch. She decided to take it in the greenhouses this time because she wanted to clean up after the first two classes and get things ready for her next lesson, which would be with the fifth years. They would study tarragon, an herb related to wormwood.

She'd just set a broom to sweeping the floor of the greenhouse when she heard someone clear his throat from the doorway. Marzi looked up and saw the last person she expected to see standing there.

"Hi," she said, neither in a tone happy or unhappy to see him. Honestly, she didn't know how she felt and it seemed as if her subconscious already knew that about her.

"Hi," Weston said. He took a single step into the greenhouse but otherwise didn't move towards her.

"What are you doing here?" Marzi asked. She didn't move from where she stood either.

Weston shifted from one foot to the other and furrowed his brow. It was obvious that he was struggling for words, but then some––perhaps the wrong ones––burst out from him. "I think you need to realize that you've hurt my father. He's quite upset that you believe him to be a bad man when he's anything but."

Marzi grew angry in an instant. "You don't know that, Weston! You don't know your father at all. How many times have you said that to me? He didn't raise you. He hardly ever saw you while you were growing up. So don't tell me that you think you know what your father is capable of because you don't. My father knows your father a hell of a lot better than you do, I wager."

"I don't blame you for wanting to believe your father over mine but remember that it's your father who has blood on his hands, not mine."

"It was self-defense!" Marzi shouted.

"How do you know your father is telling you the truth?" Weston countered. "Were you there? No. He could be lying to you."

"Did you ever stop to think that your father could be lying to you?"

Weston took a step backwards, signalling the near-end of the conversation. "Just don't go out of your way to seeing that my father pays for what he allegedly did. Just leave him alone."

And then Weston left her alone. Marzi was positively seething at that point and had completely lost her appetite. She knew she ought to calm down before her next class but she wasn't sure if she could handle it, though she knew it wouldn't be fair to take out her anger on her kids. She made an honest effort to cool it by conjuring a cup of chamomile tea and drinking it slowly. By the time the first few fifth years trickled into the greenhouse, she felt marginally better.


Evening Chores
Author: Briar Rose 
Date:   04-18-07 14:53

Briar gets everything prepped for fresh bread in the morning. At a certain time the various doughs will mix and be rising. When ready to be kneaded down to rise again, what would look to a bystander as invisible hands will knead the dough. When the first person to the bakery arrives in the morning, tomorrow it will be Briar, the first batch of different rolls and breads will be ready for baking. Likewise, any of the pastry dough that needs special attention during the night will get it. Much as Briar loves hands-on cooking, even she doesn't like getting up hours before the sun to do all the prep work she can do by magical means.

Briar hurries through this prep work because Tracey Davis and Parker Matthews are coming in this evening to look at some sketches Briar's made. At first Tracey was thinking of just a bride's cake because of the nearness of the date they've just set. After speaking with Briar once, Tracey changed her mind and now wants a groom's cake as well. Tonight they will look at the sketches and formalize what they want the designs of the cakes to be and they'll taste test to determine flavors, even if those flavors turn out to be the traditional ones.

With Grace having a session with Madom Petrochi tonight and Julian wanting to have Grace spend the night at his place, this evening is perfect for meeting with the soon to be bride and groom. They'll first meet with Furnella Hodfuffer to finalize a menu for their reception and will be to the bakery right after. If things don't take overly long, Briar's hoping to Floo to St. Mungo's to see Bill.

Bill Weasley is not doing well and no one can figure out why. With Bill so much like a brother to her, Briar is as distressed over it all as the Weasleys are. Thank Merlin Charlie and Ron weren't gone any longer than they were! The Weasleys are going through enough with Bill not to have that added concern for Charlie's and Ron's well beings. Briar suspects it takes all of Bill's energy to keep up the brave face he shows. She can't imagine how worn he'd be if he had to deal with great pain and the worry of two missing brothers.

The prep work for the breads done, Briar moves on to another of the tasks done at the bakery in the evenings. It's not long after that Tracey and Parker arrive, looking both stressed from this rush of a wedding and goofily happy like a young couple in love about to be married. Welcoming them, Briar sits down with the cake designs, glad to have her thoughts occupied from the worry of Bill - and the funeral of Hermione Granger's father on Friday - to something joyous.


Paris, France: Getting Ready
Author: Nymphadora Tonks 
Date:   04-18-07 18:30

Several weeks had passed before Tonks could put Abu Ababwa's information about the Paris branch of the Resistance to any use. She'd had a number of minor cases take precedence over her desire to unravel the mysterious anti-government organization, and then it had taken some time to negotiate with the French Ministry of Magic and to put together a game plan for entering the supposed location of that Parisian office.

Tonks had arrived in Paris only that morning along with Terry Patrick, another auror. They'd spent all day in various meetings with the aurors from Le Bureau des Aurors of the Département de la justice magique at the Ministére de la Magie. The plan was to enter the Parisian office of the Resistance the next day. Already, scouts had gone out to verify the information Ababwa had presented to Tonks. Preliminary reports had shown that the wizard hadn't lied about what he'd said.

The French Ministry had put Tonks and Terry in a hotel for the night, but only Terry seemed able to sleep. It was still early, but Tonks could already hear him snoring through the wall between their rooms. She paced the floor and thought about what would happen tomorrow. Would they raid the office and successfully bring down yet another branch of the Resistance? Would they find out more locations of the organization? Would they find out who all was involved with it?

Tonks couldn't help but fear that they somehow knew that she would be coming. She couldn't exactly trust Ababwa 100%, even if she'd bargained with him to get the information she wanted. What if he'd managed to tell them about the conversation he'd had with Tonks? That discussion had been weeks ago. They'd have had plenty of time to anticipate her coming. Would they set a trap? Were they lying in wait, ready to ambush the aurors coming into the office? Or had they simply cleared out, leaving nothing behind but empty rooms?

They'd find out tomorrow.


OWLs Overload
Author: Bambi Fandango 
Date:   04-19-07 18:07

Returning from escorting a fifth year to the hospital wing, Bambi is met by Harkin's and Dorothy's worried stares. Bambi gives them a smile of assurance. "She's fine. It's simply another case of OWLs overload."

Not all that long ago, Sandra Garretson had arrived from a Friday morning class. Bambi had overheard the teen talking with someone else about that morning's Muggle Studies. Sandra had then set down and opened up an OWL study guide. Based on what was on the table when Bambi went over Sandra was answering questions in a short version of a practice written exam for Transfiguration. The girl had only completed four of the questions when she began crying hysterically.

Bambi had rushed over immediately. She'd quickly established that Sandra was not bleeding and had no outwardly evident physical injury. The girl could not crying and nothing Bambi did was of any comfort or help. Concluding that Sandra was suffering from the stress of preparing for the upcoming OWLs, Bambi had then escorted the still crying Sandra to the hospital wing. There, Madam Pomfrey gave Sandra a calming potion.

Harkin has gathered up Sandra's thing. "What does Bambi wish to do with this?" he asks, holding up Sandra's bookbag.

"One of us can take it to the hospital wing."

"We'll take it."

Bambi glances over the counter to see Alexa Wenlock and Olive Green. "All right. Thank you girls. Three points to you each."

Harkin hands the bookbag over to the two first years who promptly exit the library. The most recent crisis over, Dorothy, Harkin, and Bambi return to their work.


Funeral
Author: Hermione Granger 
Date:   04-19-07 19:50

It was a remarkably beautiful day outside, perfect for any sort of outdoor activity except, perhaps, a funeral. Everyone who'd been invited to Mr. Granger's funeral stood in the Muggle cemetery where he was to be buried next to his wife, who'd been murdered by Bellatrix Lestrange nearly four years ago. In Hermione's mind, her father had been murdered too––it just took several years for his heart to finally stop beating.

Hermione wore a black dress, sensible heels, and a black cardigan to keep her warm. The weather was mild and in the sunlight it was somewhat warm, but the party currently stood beneath the shade of several ancient oak trees. Ron stood next to her with an arm around her shoulders. She cried openly, though silently, while the pastor gave his eulogy as he stood next to the sleek brown coffin that was positioned over the open grave.

Many of the guests at the funeral were from the wizarding world, most being friends of Hermione and not so much her father. A few stood out with their mismatched clothing or wizard's robes, but most were attired appropriately for a Muggle funeral. The Muggles in attendance, mainly those who'd worked with the Grangers at their denistry, didn't seem to think the other guests too bizarre.

Hermione was glad to see her friends at the funeral, though not everyone could attend. Bill was still in St. Mungo's, and Fleur hadn't come, preferring to stay at her husband's side. Tonks hadn't come either, but that was because she was away on an assignment. Molly held a soft handkerchief in front of Hermione's face. Hermione acknowledged the gesture with a small nod and accepted the handkerchief, using it to dab at the corners of her eyes though it was of no use. The tears continued to come and probably wouldn't stop until well after her father's casket had six feet of dirt piled over it.


Saying Goodbye..or Good Riddance
Author: Bellatrix Lestrange 
Date:   04-19-07 20:57

Bellatrix had been waiting for this moment for a couple of years and it was too good an opportunity to pass up. It was just a good thing she'd got her sanity back in time for the Funereal of the Year. She'd never have forgiven herself if she'd been frolicking among the tulips with Snape when Granger finally popped his clogs.

A defensive stance was called for, although she doubted if anyone would have the presence of mind through their grief to bother throwing spells around. However, she pulled her wand out beforehand and apparated to the location of the burial.

Fortune had it she disapparated right next to the grave. Nobody at first clued in about the extra person in black, after all, these muggles and such loved to wallow in the colour rather than appreciate it for its aesthetic qualities. Everyone blinked a couple of times, until Bellatrix turned to the cowering pastor standing next to her and shoved him heartily into the open grave.

There was a sickening crunch as his body hit the top of the casket, followed by deathly silence.

"Oh dear," she exclaimed looking down the hole, "That's going to be hard to explain to his superiors, isn't it?"

The Weasley boy, Ron, looked murderous, but the Granger kid was still in shock and wouldn't relinquish her tight grip on him.

"Such a shame that Granger finally decided to toddle off, isn't it?" she continued. Might as well make things as unpleasant as possible before the fight started. "Did you bury his sawn off finger with him, or did you just get rid of it? It must have been hard to stop the finger decomposing. Its also most inconvenient he took so long to get down to business and die - I would have helped him along, but the security at St. Mungo's was tight."

Bella blinked a couple of times, waiting for someone to do something. However everyone was either in shock or was too polite to throw the first shot. She did notice the man to the left of Hermione try to surreptitiously pull his wand. She levelled a stunning spell directly at Molly Weasley just for the fun of it and the woman went down fast. Muggles began screaming and running around, unsure as to what exactly was going on. This proved to make it hard for any of the attending wizards to outright attack Bella.

She dodged behind a particularly impressive spray of white lilies on a stand just as a bolt of red light shot by her shoulder. Someone had had the presence of mind to try Stunning her, regardless of who got in the way. It was the typical Stun Everyone and Sort The Bodies Out Later plan.

As usual Bella refused to play by the rules, so she got some helpless old muggle who was standing around in shock with a killing curse. More pandemonium. Bellatrix may be having fun, but right now she could see that Ron Weasley had organized a few of the less flappable wizards and they were coming her way.

With a quick laugh and a wave, Bellatrix disapparated to one of the BOO's, leaving the crowd to sort itself out.

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