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Irritated on Monday
Author: Oreileah McCoi
Date: 09-14-08 18:25
Orei had only spent limited time at the fall festival two weeks ago, she'd managed to send off Aussie's birthday gift on time. She missed Brett, and more than once thought of ending their lengthy relationship because he was so far away now. She huffed into the great hall for breakfast and plopped down next to Maddie, who cast a wary glance at her roommate and best friend.
"Don't ask. I don't want to talk about it." Orei said as she filled a bowl with mixed fruits. Then, there was the owl that had arrived late last night that said she was going to have a baby brother or sister...Oh yeah and they had no intention of coming back to England, ever. Just peachy.
She'd written them back earlier this morning and sent it back by the owl that had delivered her letter. Eyes slid closed as she massaged her temples, she hadn't even touched her breakfast, and was determining how she was going to focus in her classes today.
"Orei..." Maddie said, tapping her on the shoulder. "You need to get..." She drew back at the scathing look that Orei shot her.
"I think I am just going to go back to bed." Orei said and made to get up. "I'll just take the failing grade on the quiz in Ancient Runes, say I over slept or something."
"Orei you can't do that, not in our final year. Come on." Maddie said and attempted to drag her friend toward her class and not let her go toward their dorm room.
"Maddie, just leave me alone please. It's not been the best of times for me lately, alright." Orei snapped and tugged her arm free of Maddie's grasp. "Yeah, I'm thrilled that my parents are going to be having another baby, but I'm not so thrilled that they are never coming home. Oh yeah, and did I mention my boyfriend has moved not only several hundred thousand miles away, but several countries away." Orei practically yelled at Maddie, garnishing stares from those coming out of the great hall.
"Don't take it out on me Oreileah, I was merely trying to help." With that Maddie stormed off and was heading most likely to the library.
"Move on..." She said crossly to a group of first years, before she herself huffed off to class, she couldn't miss Ancient Runes, it was hard enough being in class and understanding the material, though she was doing pretty good. She'd probably end up apologizing to Maddie in Herbology.
(Aubrielle) One Break Is My Wish
Author: Don Thomas
Date: 09-14-08 18:33
A quiet breeze seemed to simmer through the cold air of Community 485. On most occasions, Aubrielle would have taken this chance to curl up in a large sweater and read a fascinating book while listening to one of her mother's Edith Piaf albums on the stereo. On this day, however, Aubrielle was busy working her fingers to the bone while she continued sewing. This was her job, as well as a few others', at 485. Aubrielle hadn't minded sewing at first. As a matter of fact, she found it relaxing to sew and think of her old life, possibly hum a tune or two while she worked. Over time, Aubrielle became more and more pained by the activity. Her fingers were sore and the swirls that had given her a unique identity on her fingertips were now red. They emitted pain when you touched them. But rather than complaining, Aubrielle pressed through. She could only hope for a break to come.
Doris, a fellow student at Hogwarts and now roommate, wasn't at all like Aubrielle. She would complain to anyone with ears or the patience to listen. Every other minute was interrupted by a grunt or loud sigh from her. While Aubrielle was annoyed by this behavior, she could not bring herself to reprimand Doris or speak meanly to her. Doris was her only friend here, or ever for that matter. Who cared if she was too talkative, too whiney, and too stereotypical 'girly girly'. It was Aubrielle's duty to accept Doris for all of her imperfections as Doris had already done to the overly shy, overly optimistic, and overly well-mannered Aubrielle.
Aubrielle's mind switched once more to a break. There were so many things the girls could do on one. Perhaps Aubrielle and Doris would trek the community in search of things to do while Doris chattered on about this or that. Perhaps Doris would have something else to do, leaving Aubrielle to write in her diary yet again. It would be a pained entry, but that diary was like Aubrielle's vice in this world where depression and death lurked around every corner. All of those possibilities (of what to do while on their break) seemed futile to the fact that no break had come and it didn't seem like one would be arriving soon. Mentally, Aubrielle haggled with the person overseeing their work for just one break. She knew the man could not hear her thoughts, but it seemed to pass the time as she continued to sew. It seemed like an hour later that their break was announced.
"Bloody hell! That hurt!" Aubrielle could only smile at Doris' exclamation as she rubbed her own fingers. She doubted the callouses that were forming on her fingertips would ever go away and no amount of lotion would ever make them soft again. But Aubrielle tried to look on the bright side. They had been granted a break. One break that would end 15 minutes later so that they may resume their sewing.
In Créteil
Author: Ginny Weasley
Date: 09-16-08 16:24
Ginny sets a tray of food on the small table in the room where Barnabas Bartlesby is being held. Alastor Moody, looking more stern and mad-eyed than usual, stands at the door, making sure Barny doesn't try anything.
For about the millionth time since being capture Barny whiningly complains, "It's not right, holding a person captive like this."
Ginny, who on the previous occassions of hearing this particular complaint as well as some of his others had said nothing in response, arches an eyebrow at the man. "This is a decent room with decent food."
"It's inhumane."
"Oh? But keeping people in questionable conditions in a prison camp for no crime other than labels of impure blood or of blood traitor is humane?"
"Man's got to earn a living."
"Couldn't find respectable work, Mr. Bartlesby?"
"My job's respectable."
From the doorway there comes a sound from Mad-Eye that Ginny would almost swear is a snigger at the man's statement.
To Barney she says, "You forcibly keep people in a horrible, filthy place. I do believe your definition of respectable differs greatly from mine."
Okay, so maybe my job's not respectable. Maybe I don't even like my job. No matter though because it doesn't make you any better holding me here."
"We aren't forcing you to do hard labor, haven't tortured you in any way." Ginny doesn't mention that if Barney hadn't told them what he was able, what wasn't hindered by a secrecy spell, the Order might have used harsher methods of extracting what information they could. "You're fed well, have a good bed on which to sleep in a warm room. Soon enough you'll be home and all you'll remember of this time is that you have a wonderful holiday in France. Keeping you prisoner for now might not be right but we've a long way to go before we can be compared to the splitting up families, tearing children away from their parents, and all those others nasty laws passed against deemed Nons. Your soup is getting cold."
Ginny moves to leave then turns to say one last thing. "You do know that if the Ministry changes the definition of what constitutes a Non to one more generation back, you'd be reclassified, Mr. Bartlesby. There's tainted blood six generations back in your line of the family."
Ginny swivels back around and walks to the kitchen to join a few of the other Order members gathered there eating lunch.
End Of Class, 4th Years (AJ)
Author: Furnella Hodfuffer
Date: 09-16-08 19:27
AJ announces, "One minute."
The quills of the three fourth years - Ella, Cornelia, and Deacon - begin scribbling at a more furious pace. Frowns deepend.
AJ should feel a wee bit guilty for springing a quiz on them but all his students know to expect an exam at any moment and should always come to class prepared for whatever AJ throws at them, including anything just gone over in class.
"Time's up."
AJ collects the three papers while instructing, "Be sure you know what next week's assignment is"
Deak's hand goes up.
"Yes, Deak?"
"How much of the reading should we translate?"
AJ looks over to the board where he's got homework listed. "Ah. Sorry. Didn't realize I'd not given that. It's a tough set of runes to translate so do at least the first ten lines. With the other homework and the reading assignment, that should be plenty."
From the looks he receives, AJ ascertains that the three think they already had plenty enough to do without the translations. He smiles at them in return, earning himself more scowls to which he smiles even more broadly.
"Have a great lunch," he bids them as they hurry out before he can change his mind on how many translations they should do.
AJ sits down at his desk, quill in hand to grade the quizzes. He makes short work of it, recording the marks in his roll book and putting the papers in a file where they'll keep until he hands them back next week. He pulls out a manuscript for a new novel but ends up just staring at the page, not getting a single word written.
The hidden room just off the library is usually conducive to productive writing but AJ's been going there less often. He doesn't have a deadline to turn the novel in to his publisher. Yet. Maybe there should be one. Put pressure on him to write daily. It's not as though AJ needs the money so there isn't any financial pressure on him to do the work.
Hell, AJ doesn't even need this teaching position. Like others who chose to stay on, he's got the students' best interests in mind, especially when the likes of Ryland Yaxley is roaming the school and grounds. The monster should have been locked up for Mary Lancaster's death but Yaxley didn't even get a slap on the wrist! If not for wanting to help watch over the students, particularly now that his nephew Augustus is here as a first year, AJ would have left at term's end.
Shoving the manuscript back into a drawer, AJ decides to grab some lunch before his Tuesday office hours start at 12:30.
Don't Repeat (Basil)
Author: Jared
Date: 09-17-08 16:26
Sitting in one of the extremely comfortable, very plush chairs in what used to be the Pures only common commons but now just called the common commons, or just commons, Ivan and Basil lazily drink from large mugs. Ivan has a hot spiced pumpkin juice and Basil has a hot chocolate, both are topped with a mound of whipped cream. A House Elf stands at the ready with a warm washcloth for the whipped cream mustaches Ivan is constantly having to wipe off. He's never figured out how Basil can drink something with as much whipped cream, or more, than he and never get a milk white mustache.
Ivan orders the House Elf, "Get me a slice of that spice cake."
"One for me too," Basil says in a bored tone.
"Be quick about it," Ivan adds. "We've got Muggle Studies soon."
Tuesday and Thursdays are days the boys relish. On Tuesdays they have only Muggle Studies and Astronomy. Thursdays Basil has Fitness & Athletics and Arithmancy & Divination. Ivan has it even better on Thursdays with only Arithmancy & Divination, not that Basil would give up Fitness & Athletics for anything.
Although Ivan and Basil should be working on finishing up assignments in Potions and History of Magic, as yet, neither boy has shown any inclination towards doing any sort of work today at all. They'd each slept in, not rising until nearly eleven. After playing some Wizard's chess, they'd gone to the Great Hall for lunch and from there to the commons.
Their slices of cake placed before them, Ivan digs in, taking a large forkful. He chews slowly, savoring the flavor then says a little sadly, "Class is in fifteen minutes."
Basil looks around to make sure no one's near enough to eavesdrop then confides, "I won't be taking Muggle Studies again next year."
Around another forkful of cake, Ivan asks, "Why not?"
"Don't ever repeat this but there really are only so many ways to demonstrate the inferiority of Muggles and their ways. I can't imagine Professor Parkinson having anything new or different to add to what she's already done. The class has become boring and is going to be hard enough to sit through until term ends much less four more years of the exact same thing."
"What will you take instead?"
"Ancient Runes maybe. Or Care of Magical Creatures. Haven't decided yet."
"No rush on it. Better hurry and eat your cake though because now we've less than ten minutes to get to class," Ivan says before shoveling the rest of his cake into his mouth.
A New Dru
Author: Drucilla Eternal
Date: 09-17-08 18:48
"And the important thing is that we use no magic."
I gave the girl a skeptical look. She was a Muggle born who used to attend Hogwarts. Being a Non in hiding, she was helping out the best she could against the Pureblood Nation. Currently, she was working on my makeover.
"It's not important that you look like the girl. It's important that you don't look like you."
"But..."
"Trust me! No one remembers Jane White. She's a pureblood who moved to Canada when she was sixteen to escape her deatheater parents. We recruited her a few months ago and she agreed to hand over her identity and go underground while you're borrowing her ID. She's basically the same size and height as you. From the photos I've seen of her, I think we can pull it off. If people question it, we'll just give the obvious response.. people change after fifteen years!"
"But what if I run into people who knew her?"
Again, the girl shook her head. "Unlikely. Her parents were really strange. Die hard deatheaters who kept her at home and didn't socialize much. She escaped them when she was sixteen and escaped to Canada. She hasn't been back since."
"Until now," I murmured as I stared at my reflection in the mirror in wonder. Gone were the long blond locks I was used to and in their place was a short edgy new cut dyed a dark brown. My piercing blue eyes were covered with brown contacts. My pale skin was now spray tanned. And the mole added a new dimension to my face as well. It was me, no magic enhancements, but staring at the mirror it was hard to see any similarities to the old me. Indeed, if anyone saw me, they would have a very hard time connecting my face to Drucilla Black. In a way, I was thankful that Sirius was not around to see my transformation. I was currently at an in-between house, before moving on. I had new ID papers, an apartment rented close to the Ministry, and an interview set up for tomorrow with the Ministry of Magic. With the continual heightened security at the Ministry it was important that all my changes were done in a muggle form. Dyes and spray tans were not traceable but magic was. Polyjuice although a fine method of hiding ones face just wasn't worth the risk. I wasn't sure how long I would be undercover or who's close proximity I would end up with. Because before this business was done, if was very plausible that I would be living somewhere other than my apartment.
"Your roots will eventually start to show, so you need to make sure to touch them up."
She went through the steps on how to keep up my new look, and also gave me some extra contacts. Afterwards, I was whisked out of the house on my way to my new apartment and new life undercover.
Glastonbury
Author: Harry Potter
Date: 09-18-08 13:20
Ron blows onto his hands then shoves them back into his pockets. "Where is he? It's blood cold."
"Want to borrow my gloves for a bit?" Harry offers.
"Nah, but thanks. Should have remembered to bring my own. Probably would have if I'd known how long this was going to take."
"Maybe we should have insisted on meeting somewhere Muggle."
Ron eyes the front of a Wizarding pub, The Pixilated Pixie, directly across the lane. "Or come in disguise and insisted on meeting in the Pixie. Bet it's warm in there plus we could get something to eat and drink."
The thought of hot food and hotter beverage almost has Harry suggesting they go in and find a seat by one of the front windows. To distract himself from that thought he asks, "Did you know that most Muggles these days have a vastly different defination for pixilated, one they'd spell as pixel... "
"Yeah?"
"Sounds the same whereas the i l spelling means acting drunk or whimsical or even eccentric, the e l spelling has to do with images, such as photographs. The image is sort of distored and rough looking. Or something like that."
"I see," Ron says even though he doesn't really. "Look there. That our man?"
"Yeah, think so."
The man is coming right towards them, his head down against the wind, the hood of his cloak covering his head. An especially strong gust whips around and despite his best efforts to keep the hood in place, it flies backwards, revealing a face different from the one Ron and Harry expect. The man's already pointing his wand as Harry brings his own wand up, shoving Ron out of the way of the man's blast.
Harry takes the brunt of the blast to his chest. He sinks to his knees, gritting teetch against the pain while at the same time getting off a shot of his own. Another shot comes from near ground level where Ron's fallen from Harry's shove.
More men appear as another blast takes Harry's wand from his hand. Making a sideways dive to both avoid taking another direct hit and to retreive his wand, Harry yells to Ron, "Go before you lose your wand too!"
"Not leaving you!"
"And both get captured? Got to let the others know we were ambushed!"
With a loud, very unhappy roar, Ron disapparates before he can be stopped. Harry fumbles for his wand, gets hit twice more in the process. A third shot sends his wand rolling away from the fingers that had finally grasped it. That blast is followed by others as the ambushers converge on him. His body overwhelmed by so many hits, Harry last conscious thoughts for several hours is that at least Ron got safely away and of how angry Janine's going to be with him for letting himself get captured.