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Sweep
Author: Bill Weasley
Date: 11-04-08 17:28
As Whelan Wardle, Bill stepped into the warden's office, followed closely by Weston, who wore the face and body of Cyrus Abernathy. Other guards were gathered in the relatively spacious room, though Bill noted that not all 17 of them were present. Although they worked different shifts and weren't always at Goen Bren at the same time, Bill had made note of who the guards were in his short time in Whelan's shoes. He supposed it made sense that of those on schedule for the current date and time, not all were in the warden's office since somebody had to be guarding the prisoners. However, Bill hadn't noticed any route of escape a prisoner might take advantage of while not under the watchful eye of a guard. He didn't doubt they were desperate enough to make any such attempt, though. In their shoes, he certainly would.
The warden sat at his desk, his elbows propped on the polished surface, his fingers steepled together. With the two newcomers in the room, the meeting could begin. He leaned back in his plush, high-backed chair.
"We're going to run a sweep through the cabins today. I want make sure that the nons aren't getting into things they shouldn't. Collect any contraband you find and punish any wrongdoers as severely as you like. I want a full report by the end of the day." He paused and rotated his chair ever so slightly.
"You'll go in pairs, and you'll do this immediately and simultaneously. If they catch wind of what's going on, they'll try to hide what they've been up to, so use discretion until you get into the buildings. Any questions?"
The guards collectively shook their heads.
"Good. Abernathy, Wardle, you're assigned to Building A..." He rattled off the remaining assignments and then dismissed them with a wave of his hand.
Weston, closest to the door, left first, followed by Bill and then the other guards. They walked as a unit from the administrative building to where the cabins lay. The residents of Goen Bren were out and about tending to their chores, but only the ones who had to be outside were. The common area that might otherwise have hosted those not currently at work was completely deserted.
Pairs of the group peeled away at each cabin, until at last only Bill and Weston remained. They said nothing as they approached Building A and entered with Bill leading and without knocking or otherwise announcing their visit.
Two women, a girl around seventeen years of age and another in her early twenties, stood up suddenly from the same cot. Fear showed in their eyes. The younger girl had her hands behind her back. She stood shoulder-to-shoulder with the older woman.
At first glance, Bill noted no one else in the room. He guessed the girl was hiding contraband behind her back. He opened his mouth to ask her to show him what she held in her hands when his gaze fell on the cot itself. The two women weren't thick enough to hide the length of it and actually stood in the middle so that he could see a pair of sock-covered feet and a face... a face he knew very well...
Professor McGonagall's.
Patience (Jack)
Author: Kody
Date: 11-04-08 18:06
Jack Emerson winces, pulling two thorns from his hand. If he had his dragon hide gloves still the two thorns and others he's pulled out over the course of Herbology would never have pierced his skin. Jack can't help but dart a glare at Professor Harmon Bloom. Quick as the look is, Bloom still sees. He makes a show of holding up his hands, encased in Jack's gloves while saying, "Five more minutes."
Jack, his focus back on the assignment, swears under his breath when yet another thorn punctures through skin. Bloom supposedly forgot his own gloves and apparently doesn't keep any spares around the greenhouses so borrowed the ones Jack had in his things when arriving at Happy Haven from Hogwarts. He seriously doubts the bloody jackass will give the gloves back. Damn good thing the thorns aren't poisonous!
The five minutes elapse far too slowly, Jack getting stuck by a number of thorns during that time. When the students are dismissed, Bloom walks out without taking off Jack's gloves. For a split second Jack envisions himself rushing to where the wand Coco Nutt gave him is hidden and blasting Bloom with it.
Wiggy falls into step with Jack. Following Jack's line of sight Wiggy whispers, "He'll get his due soon enough."
"Yeah. During Herbology I just had to keep reminding myself that."
"From your expression, I'd wager you're still having to."
Jack sighs, hunching his shoulders against a blast of frigid wind. "Bastard."
"Tell me something I don't know," Wiggy laughs. Tapping Jack on the shoulder he urges, "Hurry up. It's fecking cold out here."
Jack picks up his pace, turning away from the direction Bloom's going, to head for the dining hall where lunch will be as unpalatable as ever but at least it's a little warmer in there than it is outside.
(Urania) Fear Itself
Author: Illyria
Date: 11-05-08 17:52
Urania sat at one of the coarse tables in the dining hall at Goen Bren but had even less an appetite than usual. She feared that the warden would burst in at any moment and torture her on the spot for her part in covering up Minerva McGonagall's illness. Her eyes shifted uneasily towards the lunch line, where Carys stood in a hairnet and apron while holding a large metal spoon in her hand. The younger witch looked pale, both from fright and the stomach illness that had plagued her the last couple of weeks.
Earlier that day, they'd been feeding Minerva food Carys had "borrowed" from the kitchens when two guards had unexpectedly arrived. Urania's first thought had been that she and Carys had been fools not to think that something like this could happen. In all their time at Goen Bren, there hadn't been a sweep of their cabin, but they should have expected the possibility.
It hadn't taken the guards long to notice that she and Carys were standing in front of a cot that wasn't empty. Their gazes had flickered from the women to Minerva, where they'd stayed for a long, excruciating moment before one looked direclty at Carys and demanded to know what she held behind her back. Reluctantly, she'd moved her hands from behind her back and revealed a bitten-into apple and a cup.
Urania and Carys had expected punishment but instead had gotten silence from the men. They'd left without a second glance, leaving the two women stunned. Minerva, groggy from her ailment, had only partially understood the gravity of what had just passed.
All day long, they'd expected something to happen, but so far nothing had. The waiting made Urania crazier by the moment. She just knew that her time would come. Any minute now, the warden would come through that door and make her pay for doing everything she could to keep Minerva alive.
Thinking about Minerva forced Urania to hurry and finish her dinner. She stuffed the slop from her plate into her mouth and then hurriedly cleared her dishes and left the dining hall. Icy wind blasted her as she left the relative warmth of the indoors and navigated her way to Building A. In her haste, she almost slipped on a patch of ice but luckily managed to stay on her feet. She entered Building A, shaking from the cold and the fear for her life when she noticed something terrible.
Minerva McGonagall was no longer in her bed.
Last Minute Visitor
Author: Briar Rose
Date: 11-05-08 18:08
Briar looks toward the clock, thinking that these last ten minutes seem a lot longer than ten minutes. She stifles a yawn, thinking that no one's going to notice if she turns the Open sign to Closed a couple of minutes early. Walking out from behind the counter, Briar covers her mouth as she yawns several more times.
Her hand on the sign, Briar yawns again, thinking she should have waved her wand from the counter to flip the sign and lock the front door. The thought of walking back to the kitchen, finishing the tidying up and heading out the back for home makes her feel even more tired. Briar is so tired she doesn't even see the man until he's at the front door, pulling it open, causing the sign to pull from her hand.
"Oh. Are you closed? I thought I had a minute or two still."
"Sorry. You do. I didn't expect anyone so was closing up a few minutes early. There is a small selection left or are you wanting to place an order?"
"Neither. I deliberately came this near to closing in hopes that you'd be able to talk without interruption."
"Talk? About what?"
The man gives her an odd look then chuckles. "I forgot to say. I'm with the Ministry of Magic, Department of Half-blood, Muggleborn, and Half-breed Registration and Regulation."
Briar's friendly countenance turns slightly icy. "Again I ask, talk about what?"
"Our understanding is that you are half-sister to Hendrika Tenbrook."
Briar isn't at all surprised that the Ministry has documented the relationship. She wonders if they've figured out it's a sham.
Briar replies in a flat voice, "That's correct."
"Do you know where your sister is? Her children?"
"No, I've not heard from Hendrika in some time. Why do you ask?"
"As far as you know, does Ms. Tenbrook continue to associate with Charlie Weasley?"
So that's what he's after. Information on Charlie and, most likely, the other Weasleys.
"I don't know. Probably. He is her husband afterall and her children's father."
"You have no idea where Charlie Weasley is?"
"No, none at all."
"You have a half-brother who is a Non. He and his children were relocated by the Relocation Assistance Committe. Do you harbor resentment over this action?"
Briar blinks, surprised and taken aback by the question. Is she resentful? Yes, of course she is. Is she going to admit that? Hell no.
Briar carefully phrases her reply. "While I don't care for the fact that chldren were taken from their families, I also was still getting to know my brother and his family. I have not felt the loss that I might have if I'd known Bryon better."
"So, you aren't lying to me because of a deep love for your brother and sister?"
Briar sighs, "I've not known Hendrika all that long either."
"She has had the poor judgement of following her husband into hiding. If she had renounced him, his family, and the stance against the Ministry's policies, your sister and you would have continued to form a bond."
The man, how never did give Briar his name, and she can't say she actually cares if he ever does or not, pauses then says almost as in passing, "I am authorized to use whatever means necessary to ascertain the truth."
Briar's eyes widen at the threat given as if it's nothing. Inside she's shivering but outwardly she calmly replies, "It's good to know that the Ministry is so committed. If my parents were still alive they'd give their whole hearted endorsement."
The man reaches for the door to leave, saying as he goes, "Yes, but do you, Ms. Rose? Don't be surprised if I drop by again. I have quite the sweet tooth."
Briar watches him disappear into the gloom of the cold evening then locks the door. Feeling wide awake now but in no mood to tidy up the kitchen, Briar walks through the bakery to grab her cloak and gloves, bundles up against the frigid night and walks home, trying not to think about what would happen if the man decides she is lying and returns in search of the truth.
Failed Attempt At Sleep
Author: Don Thomas
Date: 11-06-08 01:03
Don couldn't sleep. Not that she didn't want to. Sleep was Don's one escape from the closed-minded and incredibly discriminatory environment running through this prison she was forced to call her school. She'd say that Curtis or Stephen, or even Quidditch (which she had a real knack for), were her escape(s). Most would have expected her to say that. But she really hadn't been spending too much time with her normal, yet still fairly newish, friends. She even seemed to be slipping in Quidditch, something her roommate found hilarious to hear. Worst part was no one knew why, except Don's parents, but they didn't know what to do. It was up to Don now as an adult, which she officially had been for less than a month.
With a flick of her wand and a small mutter under her breath, a light emerged. Don then fussed under her pillow for the letter. It wasn't written on formal stationary and it wasn't written on parchment. As a matter of fact, it seemed to be written on a folded napkin. And yet, this small napkin was what was worrying, even tormenting Don. She let her wand draw near. Each word seemed to illuminate one by one. Some words seemed clearer than others. Finally an adult, Congrats DonnieBee, and Way to go were among them. None of them stood out as much as So, I was wondering if you would spend the summer with me. I realize I've been pretty bad in the past, but I do love you Donnie and I want to develop a relationship with you. It would mean the world to me if you came out here. A small salutation was beneath that. It read: Sincerely, your father.
A man Don hadn't seen since her childhood. A man she'd never truly been able to get over. And here he was, 'wanting' a relationship. How could he? He had no right! After leaving her and her mother in the dust? What sort of man was he?
Inside, Don was conflicted though. Hate and spite mixed with love and the want to have her father, no matter how much of a flake he was. She remembered wanting him, waiting for him. Perhaps that was why her life was suddenly taking a few steps back. She didn't know how to deal with these new mixed emotions. They just festered and broiled into a settling recluse. Worst part was that Don didn't know what to do to stop it. Give in and be tricked or stay with those who'd been there for so long and cared so much?
Freya grunted as she wrestled awake. "Wha yer doin erwake?" Her speech was horrible as she was practically still asleep. "Go to sleep."
Don put her light out and tucked the letter under her pillow. She could see it clearly in her mind anyway.
Investigative Beetle
Author: Harry Potter
Date: 11-06-08 13:56
Lucius Malfoy steps from the Floo, automatically dusting off his robes as he strides to a nearby doorway. The motions of his hands disturb a hitchhiking beetle from a fold in his robe. She doesn't mind, however, as she was about to fly off anyway to look around.
Rita Skeeter had been at the Ministry of Magic first thing this morning, in search of a story. Any story would do. She's not as picky these days as she might have been in times past. Ever since that awful brat Hermione Granger found out that Rita is an unregistered animagus, Rita's life has not been what Rita thinks it should be. Oh, she has had some wonderful times, covering stories like that of Ethan Somerset, but that was years ago and Rita's got to tread carefully in case Miss Too Smart For Her Own Good Granger decides she doesn't like what Rita's doing. All in all though, Rita's been looking for a big break; an exposé that will have even Granger wanting to give Rita awards.
In hopes of finding something truly monumental, Rita's taken to hanging around the Ministry as often as she's able. Today she just happened to see Lucius Malfoy coming from Minister Smythe-Jones's office, saying something about heading off to work. Since Rita had thought Malfoy worked there at the Ministry and she didn't get the impression he meant he was going to that dress shoppe his first wife had opened, Rita couldn't figure out where exactly he would be heading off to.
To find out, Rita naturally hitched a ride. Luckily, she was able to transform into a beetle and catch up to Malfoy without anyone having noticed what Rita had done. Beetle Rita flies along behind Malfoy, landing on a wall beside a door he's just gone through. Determining it's an office, Rita debates whether to go in or continue looking around. She decides she'll hang around the office for a little while then venture further. Perhaps time in the office will enlighten her as to where this is and what Malfoy is doing here.
Beetle Rita flies into the room, finds a nice little spot on which to perch where she can see and hear well, then settles down to wait for something to happen.
Thoughts Of Ditching For The Term
Author: Zabrynna
Date: 11-06-08 17:18
Zabrynna fights closing her eyes as Professor Parkinson drones on about the inferiority of anyone who is not of magical birth AND pureblooded. Zabrynna's giving serious thought to skipping Muggle Studies the rest of the term. To amuse herself, and to keep from falling asleep, Zabrynna spends the rest of the class alternating between thinking up creative excuses for skiving off for the entire term and coming up with various different ways for the Muggle Studies O.W.L. to ask how Pures are superior people.
It's not easy pretending to pay attention in a class that has only four students nor is it easy not to get caught writing lists that are not notes on the current lecture. Luckily for Zabrynna, Pansy Parkinson is far too busy pontificating ad nauseum on her favorite topic to notice that Philippa, Anne, James, and Zabrynna aren't hanging on to her every word. If the other two fifth years, Stephen and Victoria took Muggle Studies, Zabrynna would be willing to wager a hundren galleons that neither of them would be slavering over yet another of Professor Parkinson's Nons are blood stupid and useless speeches.
None too soon Muggle Studies ends. The four students practically knock each other over trying to escape the room. All are heading to History of Magic, where the other two sixth years will be joining them. At Durmstrang, Zabrynna had never cared much for History even though she always liked Professor Feliks Slutskaya. She's found that here at Hogwarts, she doesn't mind the class at all.
Sliding into her seat in the History of Magic classroom, Zabrynna isn't sure whether her actually liking the class is due to it coming on the heels of the much hated Professor Parkinson and Muggle Studies or if it's because Professor Declan Douglass is so yummy to look at.
Anne Kendrick's voice cuts into Zabrynna's musings. "I meant to ask at before we went to breakfast if you got the answer to question seven of the homework."
Zabrynna, who has been diligent in getting homework done for certain classes - or is that for certain professors? - nods, pulling a sheet of parchment from her notebook. She hands it to Anne who promptly hands it back.
"Wrong paper."
"Huh?" Zabrynna asks, looking down. Seeing that it's a piece of parchment she'd never meant to put in her bookbag much less bring out in class, Zabrynna's cheeks color to match her hair.
Anne sniggers. "He's too old for you, you know."
"Maybe right now."
"Have long range plans, do you?"
"Oh, shut up," Zabrynna says, though not in a mean way, blushing even more as she shoves the paper out of sight. Finding the History of Magic homework, Zabrynna hands it to Anne, thinking that her not minding History of Magic at Hogwarts probably has nothing to do with Muggle Studies and Pansy Parkinson.