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Weather Woes
Author: Harry Potter
Date: 01-31-09 17:21
The wind ferociously whips through Community Q, lashing everything with heavy rain. Juliet is having a hard time walking from the breakfast serving line to where Aaron, Lee, and Harry are huddle over their own plates, trying to keep the unpalatable food from becoming sodden and even more unpalatable. Once at the table she has to raise her voice slightly to be heard over the combined noise of the wind and rain.
"I only thought that last storm was bad. We had some storms last spring and summer but nothing like these recents ones."
"No hurricanes then?" Harry asks.
Lee shakes his head, sending a spray of water from his wet head. "Sorry," he apoligizes before saying to Harry, "We had a couple of small hurricanes and tropical storms. If there were any violent storms in this region last year, they skirted us."
Elizabeth trudges up, letting her plate clatter onto the table. "I'm sick of this weather. Sick of the work. Sick of food that isn't fit for consumption by any living thing. Sick of being sick!"
Juliet puts an arm around Elizabeth. "Just a little longer."
Aaron gently reminds, "Make sure no one's around to hear something like that before you say it."
Juliet flushes, "Sorry, sorry. I do know better, especially when around Harry."
"Yes, I am the guard magnet," Harry chuckles.
"There's that odd sense of humor again, Harry," Juliet says with a half-smile.
"It's almost along the lines of gallows humor," Aaron states.
Harry chuckles again and shrugs, "What can I say?" Turning serious he says, "If this weather continues we'll have to push everything back."
Aaron nods, "Yeah, but what if we can get a wand? Use it to streghten the rafts and give us some sort of protection?"
Elizath asks with hope, "Could we do that?"
"Yeah, could we?" Juliet chimes in.
"Maybe. Could send a Patronus to let someone we've escaped and where we are. I'd suggest one person disapparating once we're beyond the boundary but that would leave everyone else without whatever help the wand could be against waves and any weather we're up against."
"Sharks too," Lee adds.
"We'll have to try for one," Aaron says. "Make it part of the escape."
"Sounds good," Harry affirms. "Now, I'd best get to work before I get punished for eating breakfast and all of you get punished for allowing me to slack off."
Marseilles, France: Aftermath
Author: Bill Weasley
Date: 02-01-09 13:00
Two days had passed since the dementors had laid siege upon the community of Goen Bren, not distinguishing between the prisoners they'd been ordered to keep within its walls nor the individuals who had purported to have been their allies. In the end, a fair number of wizards had suffered the effects of the Dementor's Kiss. Bill didn't know or particularly care what had happened to the incapacitated guards––he assumed they'd been carted off to St. Mungo's––but he and his fellow Order members who had responded so quickly to the attack carried both the impaired and relative healthy prisoners to safe houses around the world.
Although there had been no loss of life during the dementor attack and subsequent impromptu raid and rescue by the Order of the Phoenix, Bill was extremely sorry about the casualties that did occur. A part of him felt guilty over those who had endured the Dementor's Kiss. If only he and Dedalus had set an earlier date for the planned revolt of the prisoners. Then, those who could hardly be called living anymore––even though it was true they still breathed––probably wouldn't be a shell of their former selves. He knew he shouldn't beat himself up over it, but Bill couldn't help but feel partly responsible for what happened, even when he couldn't have anticipated the attack.
Bill hadn't been back to Goen Bren since making sure all the prisoners got away but a return visit was in the works. The Order of the Phoenix wanted to search Goen Bren high and low for anything that might lead them to other communities they didn't yet know about, but first they had to ensure the coast was clear to do so. The lookouts who had been in the area since Saturday had reported that wizards from the Ministry of Magic had been in and out of the community. Bill guessed they weren't taking any chances and would remove any and all evidence that remained to avoid the discovery of other communities by groups such as the Order and the Resistance.
"Can I get you something else to drink, Dedalus?" Fleur's voice jarred Bill from his thoughts.
"No, thank you. You don't have to do anything more for me than you already have. Please, sit down and put up your feet."
Bill echoed Dedalus' sentiments and ushered his wife onto the sofa. He fluffed some pillows behind her back and helped her lift her feet up, under which he also placed a pillow.
Fleur smiled at Bill happily and placed a hand onto her swelling stomach. "Oh, Bill! The baby is kicking." She took his hand and placed it on the right spot on her belly. Bill grinned as he felt tiny thumps against his hand.
"Ours will be a tough one, I wager," Bill murmured.
"I'm not surprised to hear it," Dedalus remarked from the armchair in which he sat.
Bill turned to him and took in the appearance of the slim older man. For having endured so much for so long a time, Dedalus seemed surprisingly chipper. He looked fragile, though, as if a simple fall would cause him to break into a million pieces. Bill knew better, however. Dedalus was so much stronger than he looked, otherwise he wouldn't have lasted as long as he did at Goen Bren.
"Are you sure I can't get you anything else, Dedalus?" Bill asked him. "Coffee? Hot cocoa? Tea?"
Dedalus looked at the empty mug in his hand and started to nod his head. "I think I could bother you for another cuppa."
Bill grinned. "Coming right up."
France: Obstacle Overcome
Author: Ethan Somerset
Date: 02-01-09 13:34
It was cold in France, but for some reason Ethan didn't mind. He was warmly dressed, preventing the chill from staying with him as it did while he was living at Brecqhou. He'd also eaten small, but respectable meals since leaving the community, so the incessant gnawing or sickened feeling in his stomach had all but gone away.
The events from Thursday afternoon were still fresh in Ethan's mind. As he reflected on them now, he marveled at the sight of the winged horses and wizards on broomsticks making a fast approach for the community's edge. Everything had happened so quickly after that, with the guards trying to prevent the unwelcome guests from conducting a successful rescue of the community members, and those prisoners themselves using the opportunity to rise up against the guards.
Unfortunately, there had been a few deaths on both sides and a couple of cases of severe injuries, but the majority escaped with only some scrapes and bruises. Ethan looked down at his left hand. A bandage covered it where a curse had cut straight across the top. It ached when he used the hand, but Ethan knew that in just a short while, the wound would mend and that his hand would look as good as new again.
He looked at his other hand next. The N tattoo would forever be a reminder of what he endured, but it would also be a reminder of what he had survived. Ethan had gone through a lot in his 32, nearly 33 years, but he had overcome all the challenges in his way, one way or another. He considered himself fortunate, despite his apparent bad luck.
A figure joined him outside in the yard that surrounded a nice-sized family home.
"What are you doing out here all alone?" Dierna asked Ethan.
Ethan turned to her with a smile. "Just thinking."
"I suppose there is a lot on your mind," Dierna replied.
"Yes, but I'm also enjoying myself here. I really can't thank you enough for what you've done for the people of Brecqhou, what you've done for me."
"I really couldn't have done it without your help," Dierna answered with a smile of her own. "Really, what you've done is extraodinary. Casting a patronus without a wand!"
Ethan shrugged his shoulders and after a brief paused changed the subject. "Will you be leaving soon?"
"I will. The horses are at a farm in Greece for the moment. I can't risk taking them back to Ireland, since I'm sure the Ministry of Magic may be looking into the source of all the winged-horses from the raid. I don't want to impose on those currently caring for my horses."
"I understand," Ethan said.
"The Turins are good friends of mine," Dierna said, looking over her shoulder at the house, inside of which were her good friend Michael, his brother Abelard, and his family. "You'll be in good hands."
"I thank you again for all you've done."
"Tá fáilte romhat, Ethan. I would do it again if you are any other of my friends asked for my help." She placed a hand on his arm. "Come, let's go back inside where it's warm."
Ethan nodded and turned toward the house.
Uh Oh (Deak)
Author: Kody
Date: 02-01-09 13:40
Deak tries not to fidget. Charms has hardly begun and already he wishes it were over. Where or where is Professor Flitwick to take away the misery that is Professor Yaxley's class?
Deak dutifully writes down whatever it is Yaxley's saying. He'll read the notes later and figure it out. For now, just look busy and give the pretense of paying attention. Normally, that's not hard to do. Deak's got it down to sort of a fine art.
Not today though. Today is different. Zuberi Batuti is making spit wads blow out of his wand every time Yaxley's not looking. Deak is finding it difficult not to watch where the balls are going, once nearly biting his bottom lip in two from trying not to laugh when one fat wad blobbed across Yaxley's back.
There's a snicker. Faint but definately a snicker. Deak thinks it's Cornelia. Not that he can blame her. Zuberi just sent a spit ball in a perfect arc to land on top of Yaxley's head. Yaxley even waves a hand as if swatting away a flying insect but never pats his head to feel the sticky gob now stuck to it.
What Professor Yaxley does do is turn at the sound of the snickering. "Who's doing that?"
The fourth years go perfectly still, none daring to look at another. Yaxley's eyes narrow. "Come on. Speak up. One of you point out the culprit, earn yourself some points and a week off of homework."
When the students maintain their silence, Yaxley says in a low, angry voice, "I'm going to be spitting mad if no one speaks up."
At the words "spitting mad" none of them can hold it in. The room fills with snickers and sniggers, each student trying desperately to stop. Yaxley's face grows red and the instantaneous change from mad to furious drives all humor from the fourth years. They return to staring straight ahead, not saying anything and not making a sound.
Yaxley reaches out and grabs the robes of the nearest student, jerking hard. Unfortunately for Deak, when it happens, he's the nearest student. When Yaxley jerks, the violent motion sends Deak's bookbag crashing off the corner of the desk. Some of the contents spill out and much to Deak's horror there's a pubble of fabric visible.
Deak doesn't know if the color of it, the luster, the texture, or what catches Yaxley's eye. The man lets Deak go and bends to examine what it is. Picking it up and shaking it out he grins maliciously at Deak. "Well, well. Our Mr. Bennett has himself an invisibility cloak."
Reaching out to take hold of Deak's robes again, Yaxley jerks Deak up, angrily ordering the rest of the class, "Get on with practicing the lesson. The homework assignment is still the essay listed but instead of 8 inches of written, make it a minimum of 18 pages. Maybe next time when I ask who was laughing, you'll tell me."
Yaxley exits the room, jerking Deak after him, the invisibility cloak tightly clenched in his other hand.
Paris, France: Sullen
Author: Carys
Date: 02-01-09 14:03
Carys stared out the window from her hospital bed. She could see the thin branch of a leafless tree, upon which sat a little bird. It hardly seemed to notice the cold, for it tweeted happily as if it were a bright, sunny day and not the overcast, wintry one it actually was. At least it wasn't snowing or sleeting or windy in the least. It was just cold and gray.
She heard a pair of footsteps pad into the room and turned her head to see her grandfather Alun shuffle over to the chair next to her bed. First, he leaned over the metal frame of her bed and placed a kiss on her forehead. Then he eased himself into the chair and looked at her worriedly.
Carys had thought he'd aged tremendously since she'd seen him prior to getting snatched and sent to Goen Bren, but in just the few days since their reunion, he looked even older. She could tell he suffered, knowing that he would never seen his wife, his true love, ever again. The knowledge of what had happened to his only granddaughter plagued him as well. He didn't want to think of it, and Carys hadn't wanted to tell him, but it had all come out after arriving at the hospital.
The baby Carys had known she'd been carrying had miscarried. Carys had very mixed feelings about the fetus' death. On the one hand, she felt sorry that it would never have the chance to live, but she also knew that she hadn't wanted it. It had been conceived in the worst possible way and would have been a constant reminder of what Carys had gone through. It would have sickened Carys to look upon the baby and hate it for something beyond its control.
She sighed quietly, wishing she could just go home. She didn't know why she had to stay at the hospital anyway. The physical effects of the miscarriage were more or less over.
She turned pleading eyes to her grandfather, but he shook his head as if he already knew what she asked.
The fact was, she was in a terrible physical state. She was malnurished, abused in a variety of ways, and completely worn out. What Carys needed was a long rest in a hospital bed where she could be looked over by healers and nurses who knew exactly how to treat her condition. She knew it, but she didn't like it. She just wanted to go home. She wanted things to go back to normal, or as normal as they could be under the circumstances.
"Where's Tristan?" she asked her grandfather instead of pleading for her release from the hospital.
"With Griffin," Alun replied.
"He doesn't remember me," Carys said sullenly.
"Give him time," Alun answered tenderly. "He asked for you often when you were away. He just needs to get used to you again."
Carys sighed again. She really, really wanted things back to normal again.
La La La (Daria & Parker)
Author: Blossom
Date: 02-01-09 15:03
Daria holds out a hand for the last item from a box. Parker hands it to her but nearly drops it before she's got a firm grip because Daria asks, "When are Tracey and you going to make me an aunt?"
Parker firms up his grip and hands the item off to Daria. "You are already an aunt. Three times over."
"And?"
"And what?"
"And what's your point?"
"That you are an aunt."
Daria fixes Parker with a look that indicates she has no idea what he means. He gives her a look in return. That I'm the big brother, don't mess with me look. Daria doesn't blink.
Picking up the now empty box, Parker says, "Why do Tracey and I need to make you an aunt again? Why can't Blossom and Fred do that?"
Daria pounces on Parker. "Shhhh. You don't know who's listening."
"There are two customers in Weasleys' and I hardly think Maisie and Minnie are going to run tell on me to the Ministry simply for saying Blossom's and Fred's names."
Daria rolls her eyes at Parker. "The two in question have already made me an aunt."
Parker knows full well Daria means Blossom and Fred but nonetheless he asks in all innocence, "Who? Maisie and Minnie?"
Daria slaps him on the arm, retorting, "I need children by you now so I can be aunt all around."
"That makes no sense, Daria."
"Makes perfect sense, Parker."
"Aren't you late for a class or something?"
"If Kody weren't in class, I'd be up for or something."
"When are you two going to admit you're a couple again?"
"Why would we do that? We aren't."
"Not that I want to talk about my little sister's sex life, but you're sleeping with him on a somewhat regular basis. That's not being a couple?"
"I don't know what we are. I really mucked things up when I broke it off with Kody. I met and dated some nice guys but I had trouble not thinking about Kody."
"If you're dating some now and sleeping together, what's the problem?"
"After the way Emma dumped him and left and then after what I pulled, Kody may have forgiven me but he's wary of making the sort of commitment that requires publically acknowledging couple status."
"And you're okay with things as they stand?"
"Yes and no. I'm glad he's forgiven me but I do want more."
"You don't think he's just using you for the sex? I don't peg him as that sort but I've been wrong about people before."
"No, Kody's not using me. Besides that, I know a score of girls who'd willingly jump into bed with him. Not that I blame them. He's bloody brilliant."
Parker shoves fingers into his ears. "La la la la. I can't hear you. I don't want to know. La la la la."
Laughing, Daria slaps Parker on the arm again then goes to check on whether Maisie and Minnie need help with anything.
Picking Up A Few Things
Author: Griffin Price
Date: 02-03-09 14:36
Griff gingerly shifts Tristan in his arms. He'd not said anything to Carys or Alun but he'd been injured when he'd returned to Goen Bren. Although fine overall, part of his shoulder is still stiff and sore. Picking up Tristan and holding the growing, squirming child has made the spot go from twinging a little to a steady ache.
Ignoring the pain Griff asks his son, "Which do you want to give Mummy?"
Tristan, who has seen pictures of Carys every day since she was taken and who has been to visit her at the hospital since her return but who now isn't sure who this woman is, reaches out to grab fistfuls of the two pretty new robes. He scrunches up his face as if in deep thought then pronounces, "Bofe. Bofe for Mummy."
"Excellent idea, Tristan. Mummy needs new clothes so why should you give her just one? Both it is."
Shifting his hold on Tristan once again, Griff takes the two dresses and adds them to the growing stack on the sales counter. Already there are slacks, including jeans, blouses, underthings, socks, and pajamas. He puts Tristan down to pull out a coin purse while the saleslady rings up the two additional items to update the tally.
Tristan starts insistently tapping on Griff's leg. Pausing in his counting out of galleons Griff looks down, "Yes, Tristan?"
"Coat."
Griff can't believe he forgot a coat. That was the first thing he'd said aloud earlier when listing what all he wanted them to get for Carys. He grins at the toddler. "Daddy was going to forget the coat, wasn't he, little man?"
The saleswoman, who must be working on commission because she perks up at hearing yet another item is needed, smiles and gestures for Griff to follow her. In lovely accented English she says, "We ave a nice selection of coats, jackets, and capes."
Tristan has his hands on the bottom of one already, making Griff glad yet again that he remembered to make sure Tristan's hands were jam free before bringing the child shopping. "Dis one!"
"You can't even tell what that one is, Tristan."
The saleslady pulls it off the rack and holds it up. "Your son 'as very good taste, monsieur. This coat is tres chic."
Grinning down at Tristan again Griff says, "I guess it's dis coat afterall, huh?"
"Yes!" Tristan chortles.
They return to the salescounter where the coat's price is added to the total. After Griff's paid, he hefts the shopping bags with one hand while reaching for Tristan's hand with his other. "A few more things to get Mummy then we'll get you a snack and go see if Mummy's ready to go home."
"Bi'cuts. Me want bi'cuts," Tristan announces.
Seeing as how cookies of every kind are dear to his son's heart, this announcement does not surprise Griff in the slightest. "Yes, you may have two biscuits."
"Two like me!"
"Yes, two like you are. You may have two but you also have to eat some grapes or something else that's healthy."
"Stawbees?" Tristan asks hopefully.
"Strawberries it is. Here's out next stop."
Griff lets go of Tristan to open the door then following his son into the shop, starts searching for a clerk who can help him speed things along. Shopping with a toddler in tow is tiring.