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Just Another Day
Author: Griet
Date: 12-11-07 18:46
Professor Whitmen dismissed her fifth year class after assigning the students homework due next meeting. Griet quickly jotted down what she needed to know for the assignment and then collected her things and hurried from the room. She generally didn't dawdle in any one place for very long, not wanting to talk to anybody about anything these days. Ever since losing her best friend and then her birthright, Griet grew more and more withdrawn. Cornelia called her a loner, and Griet didn't deny it.
She headed for the Great Hall, wanting to grab a bite to eat before her lone afternoon class, Arithmancy. Griet nearly reached the marble staircase, when a pair of younger students collided into her, causing her things to scatter about the floor.
They were gone before she could snap at them. Cursing, Griet knelt and tried to collect her belongings before the high traffic in the area could stomp all over everything. She had little luck, hearing a bottle of ink crush under somebody's shoe.
"Here. Let me help."
Griet looked at the person who knelt next to her and helped get the rest of her things from getting trampled by the students who went up and down the stairs.
"Thanks. I got it," Griet said, hastily taking her things from the boy who knelt next to her.
Marcus got up and waited for Griet to rise too before replying, "I'm only trying to help."
"I said thanks, but I had the situation under control," Griet answered. She jostled the things in her arms to make the bulk more manageable and then continued on her way to the Great Hall. She noticed Marcus fall into step with her.
"So, is your family being affected by the changes?" he asked conversationally.
"No," Griet replied.
"Lucky them," he responded, holding the door to the Great Hall open for her.
"Yeah," she said, heading inside and straight for a seat at the Slytherin table. She unloaded her things and plopped down, hungry for food, but not conversation.
Meeting Rosalinda's Parents (Harriet Snider)
Author: Harry Potter
Date: 12-11-07 18:49
Harriet stands just inside the main doors, waiting for the Yorkes to arrive. She'd received an owl from the couple earlier today, asking for a meeting. With Mr. Yorke being a Non and Mrs. Yorke not actually Mrs. Yorke since the newest Ministry policies were announced, Harriet feels she's doing the Non and the Non-lover a great favor by agreeing to see them today during lunch. Normally she would have had them met by someone else and brought to her office but Harriet had been in the general vicinity of the doors about the time the Yorkes were expected so she decided to wait on them herself. Perhaps what they have to say will be brief and she won't have to have contaminating her office.
The door opens, almost with a bang as the wind gusts strongly. Two people heavily bundled hurry inside then the man moves quickly to shut the door again. There's a flurry of snow as they dust it off and both take off the knit caps they're wearing before seeing Harriet standing there. Recognizing her from photos in the newpapers, the man sticks out a hand, "Professor Snider, I'm Walter Yorke. This is my wife Rosemarie."
Harriet arches one of her thick, hairy eyebrows at the man, her upper lip curling slightly with distaste at the hand extended to her. Well, at least he's wearing gloves so there won't be any actual physical contact. Nonetheless, Harriet keeps the handshake extremely brief then says, "Pardon, but did you say wife? How is that possible? You are Rosalinda's mother are you not?"
"Yes, I'm Rosalinda's mother. I suppose you won't call me Mrs. Yorke, will you?" Rosemarie sighs. "We have been together for so many years now it's difficult not to think of each other as husband and wife. Call me by my maiden name, McIntyre."
Harriet nods curtly, "Miss McIntyre, Mr. Yorke, on what matter did you request this meeting?"
Walter Yorke glances around the entrance then asks, "Is there somewhere more private?"
Harriet forces a smile. "Certainly, there is my office or we could step into another room."
Rosemarie glances at her Yorke then says, "It doesn't have to be your office so if you prefer somewhere nearer."
Harriet nods and motions them to follow her. A minute later they're stepping into a room that's currently not go any purpose other than students using it for quick snogs. Harriet, Yaxley and Filch are forever running amorous couples out of it and thinking about that now, Harriet's going to spell the door once she's done with this meeting.
Harriet waves her wand and three comfortable chairs appear. Sitting down in one she waits until McIntyre and Yorke are seated then gives them an expectant look. McIntyre glances to Yorke again then says, "This is embarrassing but with the say things are now, it's in Rosalinda's best interests for us to speak to you."
Handing a thick envelope to Harriet, McIntyre continues. "Years ago, Walter and I were going through a bad patch. We had what some call a trial separation. During that time we were attempting to reconcile but I also began seeing someone else. Walter and I were able to patch things up and shortly afterwards I realized I was pregnant. I'd long wondered if Rosalinda might be the other man's but Walter didn't know about him and things were going so well between us I didn't want to spoil any of Walter's joy in being Rosalinda's father."
Harriet looks down at the envelope in her hands, a good idea now of where McIntyre's story is going.
"Ever since the school year began I've been trying to work up the courage to tell Walter everything. After that we needed to have the tests done to see if Walter is Rosalinda's father."
"I'm not," Yorke says bluntly, anger apparent in his tone.
McIntyre reaches over and grasps his hand. That's when Yorke tells Harriet, "I'm not angry that Rosemarie was with someone else. Maybe at first I was but not now. I'm angry that no matter how much I think of Rosalinda as being my daughter, she's not."
"Rosalinda doesn't know. Not yet anyway," McIntyre adds. "I contacted her biological father and we did more tests to have the documentation of him being her father. He's a pureblood and provided us with a copy of his immediate family tree to show that Rosalinda is as well. The parchments, including the documentation on her biological father and both family trees, mine and his, are in that envelope."
Harriet nods and stands. "I suppose you'll be wanting to tell all this to Rosalinda yourselves. Remain here, please."
Harriet exits the room, going first to look in the Great Hall for Rosalinda York. If the girl isn't there she'll summon a House Elf to locate Rosalinda. After she desposits the girl in the room with her parents, Harriet wants to have a look inside the envelope to find out who Rosalinda's father really is, wondering if he's someone important and rich.
The only happy one here...
Author: Waddle Dee
Date: 12-12-07 04:14
Waddle Dee had finished with the dungeon and now entered the Great Hall, it was his lunch break and hewas starving.
He neatly popped into a seat on the end of one of the long tables and reached for a sandwich, happil biting it with his invisible mouth: the only motions he actually madewere the ones associated with chewing!
Picking up a napkin he wiped his mouth after finishing a particularly messy sandwich and the continued...
Looking around at the Students in the hall, he noticed the majority looked somewhat miserable. Waddle Dee had no reason to be upset, considering he wasn't a Student, merely a member of staff.
He poured himself a glass of something and drank it. YUMMY!
Observing (Euphemia Smythe-Jones)
Author: Harry Potter
Date: 12-12-07 18:28
Euphemia has what looks like an oversized make-up type mirror on her desk. While functional as a regular mirror it's actually a one way glass that allows Euphemia to view the goings on in the various courtrooms. She's placed a mirror in each courtroom, positions to give her the best stationary vantage point. What Euphemia likes best about her little system is that no one in a courtroom under observation is able to see or hear her but she's able to not only see what's going on but is also able to hear the proceeding.
At the moment Euphemia is observing courtroom 4 where the Department of Half-blood, Muggleborn, and Half-breed Registration and Regulation is holding a trial. Dolores Umbridge appears to be enjoying herself immensely and for that Euphemia can't blame her one bit. Euphemia pours herself a cup of herbal tea and leans in just a little to better enjoy the show.
The Non, one Odella Murdoch, is sniveling and keeps trying to talk without permission. Euphemia chuckles when Umbridge finally orders, "If you speak out of turn once more, I shall put make you a mute and if you're lucky I might remember to remove it when we are done here."
Odella Murdoch starts to verbally respond but slaps a hand over her mouth just in case Umbridge considers a response talking out of turn. Umbridge looks slightly disappointed that the woman's trying to wait to speak. She pauses a few seconds as if giving Murdoch a chance to get it out then looking disappointed again, Umbridge asks the Wizengamot members present, "Are there any questions for the accused?"
One man, out of range of Euphemia's mirror, asks, "Is this really necessary? We've never prosecuted in the past for this unless there were multiple incidents, each followed by a Ministry warning. This is, if I understand correctly, the first time Odella Murdoch's had a case of underage use of magic register with the Ministry. No warning was given, correct? And the child performing the magic is only 5, is that right?"
Umbridge makes an annoyed sound then responds, "Odella Murdoch is a Non but was married to a Pure. Any incidents of underage magic in the home was not noticeable until Murdoch's husband passed away recently. Former husband that is as the man died after the new Ministry regulations concerning the marriages of Pures and Nons."
"Yes, but the child is so young. A little magic happens. We've always left it to the parents to discipline their children and to teach proper and improper magic use. Ms. Murdoch, did you take any action with your child?" The same man's voice again. Euphemia wishes she could see the man or at least place the voice. Darn Umbridge for not using his name!
Murdoch, given leave to speak by being asked a direct question, vigorously nods her head. "Yes, sir! I caught Solomon at it. He'd found his father's wand and told me he was trying to be closer to his daddy. Poor thing is taking his father's loss rather hard but then so am I. Very unexpected."
Murdoch's mouth moves to say something else but Umbridge interupts. "Thank you, that is enough. I believe we are ready to pass judgement."
It's not lost on Euphemia that Umbridge has ignored the issue of why Murdoch has been brought to trial.
Good.
If those ninnies can't figure out it's because Murdoch is a Non, then they don't deserve their Wizengamot positions.
Umbridge calls for the vote. There are a few who abstain and a few who vote against Umbridge but most know it's in their best interests to vote with Dolores. With a smug smirk on her face, Dolores Umbridge informs Odella Murdoch, "For allowing a minor in your home to perform magic, Odella Murdoch, you are fine 500 galleons and sentenced to six months in Azkaban. Your child is now in custody of the Ministry and will be placed in a suitable home. When your sentence is completed you may file a petition to have custodial care returned to you. That is all. Please escort the prisoner out."
Euphemia smiles as she says the spell to return her mirror back to being just a mirror. Sighing with contentment she leans back in her chair. That was so enjoyable she might have to watch another trial tomorrow. Now though she'd best be on her way to change for a party, unless she wants to resort to using a time turner that is.
Mysterious Bite
Author: Hermione Granger
Date: 12-13-07 17:21
"Out of my way!"
Augustus Pye raced down the corridor, guiding a gurney with expertise to the nearest room where he could assess the unconscious wizard's injuries. Hermione had aided in staunching the flow of blood that had poured from the gaping wound in the man's neck and shoulder and now stood next to the more experienced healer and watched closely as he worked. She held her wand ready, lest Pye require more of her assistance in a magical capacity.
"What does it look like?" she asked, not wanting to disturb him while he concentrated but all the same desperate for knowledge.
"Difficult to say. It's a shame he's unconscious, or he could probably tell us. The wizards who brought him in found him in this condition but don't know what happened."
Hermione looked down at the wound. Jagged flesh met bone that looked gnawed in places.
Pye looked up at Hermione and stated, "Even though we don't know what did this, we do have immediate concerns we can tackle. Name one."
"Infection," Hermione replied without hesitating.
"Good. Bring me a concoction of vervain for his pain and 3,000 mg of dried andrographis to fight off any infection."
Hermione nodded and left the room swiftly to go to the nearest storage room for the necessary herbs. She pushed the door open with her hip and immediately stopped in her tracks at the sound and sight of several flasks shattering on the ground. Fletcher Harrison swore and pulled out his wand to clean up the mess.
"Let me help you," Hermione said, pointing her wand at a pile of glass on the floor.
"You startled me," Fletcher said. He smiled to show that he wasn't upset with Hermione.
She returned his smile and said, "Sorry about that. I'm to get a few things for a patient."
"Then you should probably not delay," Fletcher said. "I can get the rest of this mess on my own."
Hermione nodded and went to the shelves to get what she wanted. She found the items quickly and slipped out of the storage room with a final "Sorry!" before returning to Pye's side. She administered the herbs herself and then set to repairing the wound in the injured wizard's neck and shoulder under Pye's guidance.
Lunch at the Three Broomsticks
Author: Illyria
Date: 12-13-07 18:13
The interior of The Three Broomsticks beckoned warmly the moment Illyria threw open the front door to get out from the cold. She shut the door hastily behind her and shivered where she stood, stretching out her fingers within her gloves to bring back the circulation of blood that had stalled during the trek from Hogwarts to the pub. Hearing her name, Illyria swiveled her head around and caught site of Urania waving madly at her from a table across the room. Olympia, Erigone and Arsinoe were there too, all drinking from warm cups of mead.
Illyria shed her cloak as she walked to her sisters' table and dropped an icy kiss on all their cheeks before sliding into the only available chair left at the table.
"We thought you would be the first," Arsinoe admitted, smiling at Illyria. "After all, you live so close."
"I would have gotten here sooner, but I got stopped in the entrance hall by Snider. Now that I've officially been demoted to Non, I'm even less in her eyes than before. She didn't want to give me leave to meet you all for lunch."
"Let's not talk about that now," Urania complained, waving her hand as if to ban the conversation from the table. "We all want to share our happy news, and I really want my birthday presents. I think it is quite terrible that we couldn't all meet yesterday on my actual birthday."
"You poor thing," Illyria replied, laughing, Snider all but forgotten. "Have you been waiting impatiently for us to celebrate with you?"
"It's not everyday a girl turns 24."
"Quite right," Illyria answered, still laughing. She pulled a small parcel from the pocket of her robes and slid it across the table surface towards Urania. "Well, happy birthday, belatedly."
Urania opened the small box to find a simple silver necklace with a sapphire half-moon pendant. "It's beautiful! Thank you, Illyria!"
The other Jones girls passed out their gifts next. Arsinoe bought Urania a pale pink cashmere sweater. Erigone gave her sister a bottle of perfume, and Olympia gifted Urania a pair of tickets to the concert of her choice.
Urania was very pleased with her gifts and now wanted to hear from her sisters. She turned to Illyria first, who had nothing exciting to share.
Olympia confessed that she was in a serious relationship with a Muggle. Since she was deemed a non herself it really didn't matter that he wasn't magical.
Erigone's news came next. "Aidan and I are engaged!"
They were all quite ecstatic about the announcement, but it was Illyria who brought up a serious concern. "Isn't the Bones family an old one?"
"It is, but Aidan's got Muggle ancestry on his mum's side. So, it really doesn't matter for us. There aren't regulations saying Nons can't marry each other."
"Not yet," Urania said sourly.
They all fell silent for a long moment until Arsinoe spoke. "I'm pregnant. Three months now."
Her sisters starting screaming, causing the other lunchtime patrons of the pub to look curiously in their direction. They hushed quickly, giggling, and pressed Arsinoe for more information. "Do you know what it is? What does Quin think? Did you tell Mum and Dad?"
Arsinoe answered all their questions in turn. The Jones girls spent the lunch hour without a care in the world, but when the hour ended, they could no longer forget what a harsh world they lived in now.
How Can This Be? (Alastor)
Author: Aaron Miller
Date: 12-13-07 19:02
Alastor Jenkins practically stomps into the Great Hall, anger radiating along the length of his entire body. He can't believe it. Bloody can't believe he's a Non. How in hell could he be a Non?
The owl came this morning. All clear on the Wenlock side for far more generations than the Ministry requires. Not so on the Jenkins side. How could his father or his father's father forget that Granddad's grandparents were both Muggle born, making his own mother a half-blood.
How?
How does that not get mentioned from time to time?
Alastor sits down at the Pures section of the Ravenclaw table, knowing his time there is now ticking down. Very soon the day will come that he has to sit at the Nons section. Inferior food. Even an inferior selection served on inferior plates and eaten with inferior untensils. The drinks won't taste as good either.
No more Pures only common room with all those wonderful snacks.
No more concerts on Fridays and Saturdays.
What about Quidditch? Alastor nearly chokes on his milk at the thought of being kicked off the team in favor of a Pure.
It's not that Alastor has anything against Nons. They just aren't as good as Pures.
Alastor wonders when he'll be made to remove the purple ribbon from each of his robes or turn in the purple ribboned badge Pure students wear when not wearing their school uniforms. It occurs to Alastor that another thing that will change when that day comes is his dorm assignment. He'll go from sleeping on plush beds with luxurious sheets and blankets to... Alastor shudders. He doesn't want to think about how he'll even sleep worse at night simply because he's no longer a Pure.
No longer all that hungry but with there being so few opportunities to each the superior food served at the Pures' tables, Alastor makes himself continue eating until it's time for him to go to Transfiguration.