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Back to Class
Author: Anthony Beck
Date: 10-31-08 07:58
Anthony passed through the dining room on the way to the living room and plucked a pretzel-roll from the bread basket at the table. His grandmother looked up from The Daily Prophet and asked, "Won't you sit and eat something before you go?"
"I haven't purchased any of the books I need for this term," Anthony explained with a shake of his head, after he turned to walk backwards so that he could face his grandmother while he continued to make his way to the fireplace. "I want to stop by the bookstore before my first class."
"Which is?"
Anthony thought for a moment. "Curse Breaking for Aurors," he finally said. He stuffed the roll into the pocket of his coat and reached for the black walnut box on the mantle that contained the floo powder.
Nana nodded. "Have a nice day at school, then."
"Thanks." Anthony grabbed a handful of floo powder, tossed it into the flames and stated, "St. Emrys University!" He stepped into the fireplace and at once started whirling around like a tornado traveling through the chimney. He eventually emerged at St. Emrys, spinning and covered with soot. He quickly stepped out of the way and dusted himself off as he walked in the direction of the bookstore.
It being the very first day of Hilary Term, St. Emrys seemed busier than usual. Students bustled about, catching up with friends, making schedule changes, or going to the bookstore just like Anthony. It was busy but not overly so, and certainly not like it might have been, had more than half the population not mysteriously vanished during the course of the past year.
Anthony removed his schedule from his pocket and checked on the course numbers. Then he walked down the aisles in search of the books that corresponded with his classes. Fifteen minutes later, he emerged from the bookstore with a stackful of textbooks, ranging from Psychology for Aurors to Basic Combat without a Wand.
He shifted the stack in his arms to review his schedule again. He knew which class he had first but wasn't entirely sure which classroom number he needed. Unfortunately, he couldn't keep the stack steady and it crashed to the floor, scattering everywhere.
"Damn," Anthony muttered, as he knelt to collect his books.
"Here, let me help," came a familiar voice. Anthony looked up to see Kody kneeling beside him.
"Hi, and thanks. How've you been? How was your Christmas and New Year's?"
"All right, and yours? How was Australia?"
"Warm. Sunny. None of this gloom and doom like we have here," Anthony replied. "I was almost sorry to leave. In fact, I just got back the day before yesterday. Couldn't tear myself away from the beach. Did I miss anything while I was lazing my days away?"
Kody quirked the corner of his lips. "We'll talk later, okay? I'll find you, and we'll go somewhere to catch up on what we did over the holidays. How long are you on campus today?"
Anthony consulted his schedule again. "My last class ends at noon."
"Meet me in Orange after your class ends. We can have lunch and then head out for coffee or something."
"See you then."
Kody handed Anthony the books he'd picked up off the floor, and then the two young men got up and headed in opposite directions. Anthony verified the classroom number he needed without toppling his book stack a second time and soon found himself in Curse Breaking for Aurors class.
(Weston) Devastating
Author: Marzipan
Date: 10-31-08 09:00
Cyrus Abernathy had grown up the only child of the last born son of a last born son, and although possessing a noble and untainted lineage, he'd grown up in undeniable poverty. Thievery had become a means to an end early on and a habit he couldn't break even after reaching adulthood. His penchant for taking what didn't belong to him had landed him in Azkaban, where he'd spent two whole years before finding himself back where he'd started.
One evening, not even a year ago, Cyrus had tried to steal a coin purse from a wizard at The Rotting Flesh in Knockturn Alley. He'd been caught redhanded and feared he'd once again wind up in Azkaban. To his surprise, his intended victim had offered him a job. It was a shame, after all, that a pureblood individual such as himself should be stealing to live, when the world was ripe with opportunities for wizards like him. Wouldn't he like to earn a decent wage, to live on the straight and narrow for the rest of the days of his life?
Cyrus had never been given anything before in his life and realized he would be a fool not to accept the job offer. Now he could turn his life around without any effort to do so for himself! He took the job and a short while later found himself at Goen Bren, a community for nons. Nons were individuals who should live the way he'd always lived: hungry, tired, and without any other comfort in life.
While at Goen Bren, Cyrus had made a friend, the first and only one he'd ever had. Whelan Wardle had grown up a wealthy Londoner but had found himself disinherited when he'd gambled away a hefty sum of his father's money. For the first time in his life, he'd been forced to find a job and work for a living. Both men had grown up living off of someone else's money and neither had held a job prior to their current ones at Goen Bren. Their friendship had formed easily and led to them meeting daily for breakfast at The Leaky Cauldron.
Little did they know that someone had taken note of their routine, and never did they expect to not to make it to work when they fully intended on going.
After days of making plans and observations, Weston Ravenscroft and Bill Weasley kidnapped and took on the identities of Cyrus and Whelan, respectively. The real Cyrus and Whelan had been taken for questioning to a secondary Order safe house in Vigo, Spain.
Weston's first impression of Goen Bren was devastating. Never had he envisioned that human beings could be treated the way these poor witches and wizards were. People were dying, literally... the horryifing Death Zone proved it. The crimes committed at the community ranged all the way from physical and mental abuse to murder in the first degree. Without giving himself away, he searched for Marzi everywhere, even among the dead, but he didn't see her anywhere. He didn't know other communities existed but could imagine Marzi at another one. He hoped she still lived.
"We need to figure out a way to safely and secretly remove everyone from this place," Bill as Whelan murmured, not for the first time. Both men had only been in place at Goen Bren for a few days but had observed that the warden didn't pay close attention, with few exceptions, to his captives. Slipping some through the cracks would probably go unnoticed.
"Flooing may be our only option. Can't apparate in or out and I wouldn't risk going outside the borders because of the dementors," Weston remarked quietly. As he spoke, he saw one of the dark figures floating on the very edge of the community. He shivered involuntarily.
"Even if we can't figure out the logistics just yet, I think we need to identify who most needs to leave and who we think we can most easily break out. Once we've got some ideas in place, we can begin to put a plan into action."
Weston watched the dementor until he couldn't see it anymore and then turned back to Bill, who wore Whelan's face. "The sooner the better."
Bill knew Weston was right. The longer they waited, the more likely someone else would die, and this time, even though it might not be true, they would feel as if they were just as much to blame as the other guards, the warden, and even the Minister of Magic herself.
The Copperpots
Author: Georgia Copperpot
Date: 10-31-08 16:12
Bob Copperpot sits morosely at his desk, trying not to think the ever growing stack in his IN box or about how every day he gets further behind. He also tries not to think of Connie, Georgia, and Libby nor about how Connie's family has been pestering him for months about doing something to find them. Bob is failing miserably at not thinking about any of it.
Reaching for the file at the top of the IN stack, Bob can't help but notice, once again, how quite the office is. Before the deportations began - if that's what they really were - this part of the Ministry was always buzzing with noise, even late at night and on weekends. The few who are left are trying to do the work of so many who are gone now, but the amount of work isn't as great as Bob would have thought it would be. It's a huge load, no doubt, but Bob can't help but wonder why it's not even bigger. It's as though some of it's being done elsewhere. This gives Bob hope that the Missing are alive and that some of them are doing the work that's not landing on the desk of Bob and his remaining coworkers.
As for Connie's family, Bob doesn't know what the Hughes expect of him. Surely they grasp by now that simply because there truly is magic in the world, there are some things that cannot be fixed simply by waving a wand and uttering the, Bob grimaces at his own pun, magic words. Don't they understand that if Bob could do that, Connie and the girls would never have been relocated in the first place.
Just thinking about the RAC is enough to flush Bob with anger. Though few Bob knows would openly show their dislike and disdain for the Relocation Assistance Committee, Bob knows that the RAC is loathed as an office and that the individual workers are equally hated. Exactly how desperate for work are those elitists that they'd tear families apart? Quite literally snatch children out of loving arms? It's little comfort that the RAC has done the job so well that the office has been downsized and those staff members cut have been relocated themselves to other departments.
Hearing his supervisor's voice getting closer, Bob fixes his eyes on the file in front of him and pretends to be deeply engrossed in his work.
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Four year old Liberty Copperpot plays with her lunch, getting the handle of her spoon balanced in the chili that's so thick the spoon stands on end. Directly across from Libby, Douglas Dippet and Louis Kegg, both three, giggle appreciative at Libby's success with her spoon. Giving them a smile her older sister Georgia would describe as evil, Libby dips a finger in her oatmeal, half crawls across the table and begins painting it on Louis's face.
Isabel Matisse hurries over, pulling Libby with great effort off the table. She sternly reprimands, "Lunch is not face paint, Libby."
Libby glares at Isabel then her face transforms in a second to one of serene sweetness. "Melia back?"
Libby's asking about Amelia Meyrick, who mysteriously disappeared from Camp Lollipop towards the end of November. Amelia, who was hated having to go by Meyrick at the community instead of by her married name of Dewhurst, was the only adult prisoner who'd ever been able to get Libby to behave without Libby first throwing a tantrum.
Isabel gives Libby a small smile and says gently, "No, poppet, Amelia's not back yet." Then to stave off a possible fit and risk a Camp Lollipop staffer stepping in, Isabel quickly says, "How about after you eat, we look around the camp to see if Amelia is playing hide and seek? We can do that until it's time to go shred paper."
Louis and Douglas show an interest in helping Libby see if Amelia is playing a really long game of hide and seek. Libby nods her agreement at Isabel and the boys then sits down though she doesn't eat much. Who can blame her when the chili is extremely thick, cold by now, lumpy, and tastes worse than dirt? Libby at least likes her current job assignment of ripping up paper to be used as filler such as in boxes used for shipping.
If Libby can't find Amelia soon, and can't have her mother back, she just may quit being so nice to these bad, bad people and show them what she's really like when angry. She'd even settle for having Georgie back as she very much lobes her sister, cheeky monkey that Georgie is.
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Hands and feet shriveled from the constant immersion in salt water, Connie Hughes Copperpot spots the telltale sign of a clam and rushes to start digging. She successfully gets the clam, tosses it in her bucket and moves along the beach searching for more. Warms waves constantly roll over the sand and her feet, making her feel even more waterlogged. A few more clams then Connie will take the bucket to the Camp Q kitchen. Connie's not big on clams but having them fresh for a stew is better than most of what they have to work with to prepare meals.
Connie tosses another clam in the bucket, then massages the small of her back. She does so much bending, lifting, hefting, and other hard tasks that Connie doesn't think she'll ever complain again about how heavy Libby's getting. That is, if she ever gets to see Libby again and have your younger daughter beg to be picked up.
Too many times a day to keep count, Connie thinks about her girls and her husband. Unless Bob has done something stupid, he should be all right. Knowing that he's fine doesn't ease the ache of longing. What torments Connie day after day is not knowing where her daughters are or if they are okay. At least Georgia, at fifteen, is capable of taking care of herself, though to hear Georgia at times, one might think otherwise. But Libby is only four. Connie still finds it hard to believe that those behind these prison camps are so heartless that they'd rip babies away from parents. Connie has deep pity for Cooper Purdue for having been raised by such a black hearted bitch mother, Euphemia Smythe-Jones.
Catching sight of a piece of driftwood that might be suitable for one of the rafts being secretly built, Connie makes a mental note to bring the driftwood to Aaron Miller's attention. He'll make sure it gets taken to the spot where the rafts are being cobbled together.
A short time later, Connie is in the kitchen, washing off the clams in preparation of adding them to the stew that they will eat at supper tonight. After that, Connie bids Juliet Davis, who's on all day kitchen duty today, goodbye and heads off to her next job assignment of the day.
Translation:
lobes = Libby speak for loves
(Rivalen) Berries & Fungi
Author: Isolde
Date: 11-01-08 04:20
Rivalen sat on the corner of the small work table he'd commandeered as his desk in Greenhouse 1 and sipped hot tea from one of the Japanese teacups he'd gotten for Christmas from one of his students. He spent the morning teaching NEWT level classes: sixth years, first, and then the seventh years, who would be taking those notoriously difficult exams in less than half a year.
The sixth years had learned about chokeberries. Chokeberries were deciduous shrubs that grew in wet woods and swamps. They bloomed small, white flowers and gave fruits in three colors, black, red, and purple. Only birds could eat the berries without consequence. Any other species of animal or magical creature and any person, whether Muggle or wizard, would choke on them––hence the name.
Chokeberries were something Rivalen actually knew quite a lot about. Years ago, he'd accidentally eaten a handful he'd mistaken for currants. He'd spent a week in St. Mungo's after the incident.
The seventh years had learned about buffaloberries. Buffaloberries also were shrubs and were sometimes shaped into trees. They didn't bloom, but they did have fruits, brilliant red orbs that looked quite similar o chokeberries and currants. The leaves of the bush were often a dull green, almost gray color, and lended the alternative name, Silver Buffaloberry. Ripe buffaloberries were edible but sour in taste and often left the mouth dry after consumption. If allowed to stay on the bush for too long, the berries turned brown and sprouted coarse hair. They kept the same taste, but Rivalen didn't know anyone who liked hair in their food.
The lunch hour was nearly at its end. Rivalen downed the rest of his tea and then put the cup down on the shelf behind him. He had three more classes in the afternoon, 3rd, 4th and 5th years.
He was still leaning against his desk when the third years trickled into the greenhouse. They pulled off their cloaks, gloves, mittens, and hats and hung those items on the coat rack by the door. Then they congregated around the main table in the greenhouse and waited to see what lesson their teacher would bumble through today.
"Good afternoon, class," Rivalen greeted, promptly at one. "I hope you had a pleasant lunch. Speaking of food, today we will discuss a plant you can eat! I'm quite fond of Asian cooking, myself, and have had cloud ear fungus on occasion. Yes, cloud ear fungus. Doesn't sound very appetizing, does it? I assure you, if you like mushrooms, you'll like cloud ear fungus."
Rivalen walked across the greenhouse where a number of different mushroom plants grew in pots. He paused for a long moment, reading the labels on each one, and then finally plucked a set of pots from the shelf. He set them on the table in front of the students.
"Can anyone tell me what another name for cloud ear is?" he asked them.
Christopher Chant raised his hand. "Hairy wood ear, or just wood ear."
"Yes, anything else?" Rivalen pulled a notecard from his pocket and glanced at it. "There are several more."
Christopher offered, "Black fungus, black Chinese fungus, and tree ear fungus."
"Yes, right, ten points to you. And come someone else tell me where cloud ear typically grows?"
Hadrian Rabnott raised his hand. "On dead wood." In fact, the pots Rivalen had pulled from the shelves had small chunks of wood in them on which the mushrooms grew in frilly masses.
"Excellent. Five points." Rivalen paused again as he reviewed the material on the notecard. In the end, he shoved it into the back pocket of his pants and said, "We're going to harvest the cloud ear and prepare it so it can be eaten. Everyone, grab a pot..."
Weary and Distracted
Author: Plum
Date: 11-01-08 10:04
Holding the sleeping Alex so that his weight is more against her shoulder than on her arm, Plum maneuvers her way around other napping children at Blossom's Day Care to an empty mat. Bending first at the knees then shifting her brother's weight to her arms so that she can gently place him on the mat, Plum's own eyes feel heavy. She'd love nothing more than to lie down beside him and take a nap as well.
More weary than she ever thought she'd be at her age, Plum quietly walks back through the room to the doorway, pausing a moment to scan the room for signs of any of the children stirring. Satisfied that all is well with this group of children for the moment, Plum makes her way to the kitchen to eat a late lunch. Earlier, when they'd been feeding all the children, Plum was so busy she'd forgotten to eat despite the other adults sitting down and eating with the children.
Plum chalks it up to still having been distracted from a massive argument with her father this morning. Not only had he had a fit because she wouldn't give him more drinking money but Evan had had the nerve to make disparaging remarks about Plum's housekeeping skills, her cooking skills, and how awful a person she was to abandon Alex to run off to Australia on a lark with her boyfriend.
When Plum pointed out that she was gone all of two days, for a wedding not for a roll in the sand as Evan had called it at one point, and that during those two days Alex was well cared for, Evan had gotten nastier, claiming that Plum was working up to dumping Alex on others for good.
This accusation upset Plum more than anything else. She'd given up school, is working a full-time job and three part-time jobs, all of which Alex goes with her to, she's the one paying all the bills, doing all the housework, and the only time she ever says anything about it is when Evan is mouthing off in a drunken rage.
Plum had turned her back on her father, finished putting Alex's coat on, then picked him to up go to Blossom's. Evan had grabbed Plum's shoulder and jerked her back around. She hissed at him, "If you touch me or Alex again I'll have you arrested." With that, Plum had apparated instead going down to the Floo network the building provides, which is good for Plum because at present she couldn't afford keeping the flat on the network. It's hard enough on her budget to buy Floo powder without having to also pay the Floo network fees.
Staring down at the sandwich she'd made, Plum thinks that maybe she'd forgotten to eat before because then, like now, she's simply not hungry. Knowing that she needs to eat whether she's got an appetite or not, Plum forces the sandwich down then returns to check on the sleeping children before going to stand and help Azara Matthews get an art project going with an older group of students.
(Happy Haven) Miserable
Author: Charisma Stone
Date: 11-02-08 07:42
Christmas had come and gone, New Years had come and gone. Still the former Hogwarts students that had been labeled "nons" and various other names still remained at Happy Haven. She sighed and set about finishing up her chores between classes. If doing more chores counted as classes! Seriously!
She shivered, the winds were blowing a bit harder and one had to walk with caution because of the ice that lined the pathways a bit. At least they could have given the students thicker blankets, thicker robes or something to stave off the frigid weather.
Blake and Eric met Isma in the dining hall for lunch. "I can't wait for the spring." Eric muttered and pushed around part of his stew that was thin and runny and had more vegetables than meat in it.
"I know, at least it will be warm, if not rainy." Blake said and finished another bite of the too thin stew. "Maybe we'll get to go home soon." There was a false hope in his voice, and all three had come to accept the fact that there was a large chance that they did not exist on any public documentation beyond these walls any longer.
They finished their lunch and headed to their next round of classes.
Walsall
Author: Pyrrhus
Date: 11-03-08 18:16
Brent Gorper comes to a stop, pointing across the street to a brightly lit tavern. "That's it."
Holding hands, Brent and Clarissa start across the lane, followed closely by Pyrrhus. A couple of times Py looks back over his shoulder, in the direction of the shadowed alley where they'd apparated. Although no one knew where they were going, Py can't help but feel like they're being watched.
Py didn't even tell Isolde where he was going tonight. He'd told a fib. In all the years Py's been with Isolde, he cannot remember ever lying to her that the fib wasn't something to do with a gift for her.
Brent reaches the tavern door, holding it open for Clarissa and Py, and only then does Py pay attention to the name of the place. The Merry Maid. Py fixes the name in his head in case there's ever a time he comes without Brent and Clarissa. He guess it will depend on how tonight goes and what Py thinks about it, and whether there would ever be a reason Brent and Clarissa didn't come as well.
Inside, Py asks a waitress where the Garden Room is. She points and nodding their thanks, the trio make their way through the main room of The Merry Maid. Reaching the Garden Room, Py sees that it's well named. The room overlooks what is probably a very pleasant garden in warmer months. The room itself is done in shades of green that put Py in mind of the outdoors.
There are chairs arranged in a semi-circle. After helping themselves to drinks from a table at the back of the room, Brent, Clarissa, and Py takes seats, waiting for the meeting to begin.
Pyrrhus Fine, long believer in the superiority of purebloods, is attending a meeting set up by the Resistance.