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Marseilles, France: Bed Rest
Author: Bill Weasley
Date: 03-07-09 13:16
"The midwife said you need to stay in bed for the rest of your pregnancy," Bill gently reminded Fleur, who had experienced a little bleeding yesterday after spending several hours vigorously cleaning the cottage. "I know it will be difficult, but it is the best possible course for you and our baby."
Fleur leaned up against the fluffy pillows propped up behind her back and frowned. The threat of miscarriage had passed long ago, and though she'd been extra cautious because of her history, she still didn't worry about losing the baby. Her due date was very near and it probably didn't matter very much if the baby were born sooner, but the midwife had nevertheless advised her to carry to term.
"I've decided I won't do anything else for the Order of the Resistance Movement until well after the baby's birth. I want to be here for you now and for you and our little girl once she's born," Bill said, conjuring a tall glass of water to set on the bedside table.
"I am not an invalid," Fleur responded, not angrily. "You do not 'ave to wait on me 'and and foot!"
Bill beamed at her. "Oh, but it is my pleasure. Call me your slave for that is what I am!" He sat down on the edge of the bed and took her hand. "It won't be long before there are three of us in this house."
"We should decide on a name," Fleur said, "once and for all. She will be 'ere vairy soon and we should know what to call 'er."
"You're absolutely right," Bill said. He conjured the slip of paper upon which they'd already jotted down names and combination of names.
They sat together and discussed the possibilities, and soon Marguerite, the Turkish angora cat Bill had gotten Fleur for Valentine's Day last year, joined them on the bed. Marguerite curled up right next to Fleur and purred herself to sleep, lulled by the sounds of her owners talking about what they might name their first born child.
Outside Athens, Greece: With Dierna
Author: Ethan Somerset
Date: 03-07-09 14:38
Aneas Eatos owned a sizeable piece of land just outside of Athens. It, like many other wizarding places, was shielded from Muggle view and visitation by magical charms. Aneas was a long time friend of Michael Turin and knew Dierna ní Cíaran through his old friend.
It was on Aneas' property that Dierna housed her winged horses until it was safe to return them to her ranch in Ireland. She did not know when that day would come, but she was confident that it would happen someday. Ethan admired her optimism, though he wasn't so sure about things normalizing anytime soon, if at all.
After having spent a few weeks with the Turins in France, Ethan had jumped at the chance to visit Dierna in Greece. The Turins were very hospitable and Ethan was eternally grateful for all they had done for him so far, but he wanted a change of scenery and a chance to catch up some more with his former colleague.
"Do you miss it?" Ethan found himself asking Dierna, when they were both in the stables. Dierna groomed her beloved Abraxan Grainne, who had sustained a small injury during the raid at Brecqhou but had since recovered. "Do you miss working for the Ministry of Magic?"
Dierna didn't have to ask Ethan to clarify which Ministry of Magic he meant. The Ministry of Magic generally meant the British Ministry and not the considerably smaller Irish one for which she'd worked since leaving her post as Head Auror many years ago.
"Sometimes," she admitted, "but I am very happy where I am now. What about you? Do you miss your work?"
Ethan gave her question some consideration. "I do and I don't. I miss the good old days, before Voldemort turned me into his puppet. My return to work after Azkaban––that is, after my first prison term––started out well, but I guess everything went down hill from there, thanks to––"
"Don't say her name," Dierna reminded, holding up her hand.
Ethan nodded. "You know who I mean. Anyway, there was that period of time when all I had to do was grunt work. It almost made me lose my liking for the entire job."
"Would you consider teaching again, Ethan?" Dierna asked.
"I enjoyed it at first," Ethan admitted, "I truly did."
"But Voldemort interfered," Dierna added. "At least he can't do that anymore. Still, would you consider it if a post were available?"
Ethan chewed on his lower lip. "I don't know," he finally said. "Hogwarts gave me both good and bad memories, and while I know the school had nothing to do with what happened to me, I can't help but associate the place with that dark period of my life."
"Which you overcame," Dierna reminded.
"Yes, but..." Ethan trailed off, not knowing what else to say.
"I guess this is just hypothetical for now," Dierna said, "but I do believe that one day things will turn around and you'll get to do whatever you want wherever you want."
Ethan managed a small smile. "I hope you're right."
"Of course I am!" Dierna exclaimed.
On the Way to Transfiguration
Author: Alanna Beck
Date: 03-08-09 13:05
After a leisurely lunch, Alanna and Jared strolled hand in hand through the castle on their way to Transfiguration. Neither was particularly looking forward to the class, since Professor Grubbly-Plank had promised an end of Winter Term exam. Alanna personally didn't mind practical exams all that much because she found doing something so much easier than writing about something. Because she knew that Grubbly-Plank intended for there to be both a practical and written portion, perhaps to prepare the seventh years for the upcoming N.E.W.T. exams, Alanna gradually felt her feet turn into lead.
"Just think," Jared told her, tugging on her hand gently, "we've got one term left after this and then we're through with this place."
There had been a time when Alanna couldn't imagine leaving Hogwarts, but this year and last year hadn't been typical. Last year the student body at Hogwarts had been bigger but it had also been segregated. This year only a fraction of students remained, and most of the teachers Alanna knew and loved (or loved to hate) were gone too.
"I've decided what I want to study at St. Emrys," Alanna stated. "Did I tell you already?"
"You've told me everything from basket-weaving to cosmetology––and personally, I can see you doing something crafty over doing somebody's hair and make-up."
Alanna laughed. "You know I was just browsing the course catalog when I told you those things. I really didn't know what I wanted, and I wanted to see what was out there. St. Emrys offers so much more than Hogwarts ever could."
"So, what did you decide?"
"Honestly? I think I want to follow in my Gramps' footsteps. I want to go into law."
By then, they'd reached the Transfiguration classroom, but they lingered outside the door since they still had some time to kill.
"I think that's brilliant," Jared said.
"Yeah," Alanna replied, nodding. "I think maybe... maybe I could help..." She fell silent a moment when one of her classmates passed by to enter the classroom. She lowered her voice to barely above a whisper. "I've been doing nothing all year. I've detached myself from my family. I... I don't want this to go on any longer. I want to make change in the world."
"I think it's already happening, but yeah, I know exactly what you mean," Jared said. "If anyone can do it, you can." Then he gestured with his head to the open doorway. "Come on. Let's get this over with. We can talk about the future later."
Alanna nodded, squared her shoulders, and entered the Transfiguration classroom. She was completely determined to ace the exam, even the dreaded written part.
Bad Weather Again
Author: Aaron Miller
Date: 03-09-09 17:07
Futilely wiping water from my face, I carefully check the trail both directions then step out of the thick bushes. We'd have beautiful clear skies for several days but the past couple have been very wind and very wet. If I didn't know better, I would say that hurricane season is definately upon us. We've definately had enough violently nasty weather to make me wonder if I were back in the Muggle world, I'd be glued to the Weather Channel giving updates on an unseasonably early Atlantic hurricane season.
The weather has delayed the escape but the collective decision was made we'd go today unless there was an out and out full scale hurricane. People are anxious to be away and safe. Letting the first date for the escape go by was hard enough. Doing it a second time was nearly as much torture as the Q staff likes to inflict on us. We aren't waiting for a third day to go by, storm be damned.
I'd gone off trail to retrieve some of the wands Ron Weasley's brought us. After he made initial contact, taking Phoenix Everard with him when he left Ron, or perhaps one of the others out there helping, would tie wands to the fishing nets when the nets would be submerged. There aren't enough for everyone but enough should we need them during the escape.
Picking up the lumbar I'd been carrying, using the boards to conceal the wands, I continue down the trail to a clearing where the warden has us building a gazebo for her. Typically, Imogen Bulstrode doesn't care that the weather is not conducive to constructive the gazebo. She wanted it finished yesterday but had not ordered enough of the wood she wanted for it. Bulstrode of course blamed us for her ordering error. Poor Harry got the lash again and I got ten myself.
Reaching the clearing, I add the boards to the ones already on the ground, leaving the wands hidden among them. When someone comes to get something from the stack, a wand will be picked up along with a board. Around the island, other work groups have either gotten wands passed out or will be doing so soon. We'll all strike at the same time then after securing the group's guards, we'll go take out the guards of groups that don't have wands. We'll add guards' wands to what we have from the Order and Resistance. Groups will meet up where the rafts are hidden, a concealment charm helping hide them now that we have the wands allowing us to do that, when a raft is full, those there will go on and take off whether the other two rafts are ready to go or not.
Connie Copperpot is supposed to be in the first group that goes to the rafts and she's going to keep count as the first two rafts take off so that when the time comes for the third raft to leave, no one gets left behind. Each raft is going to a spot along the magical barrier wrapping the island. The Order and the Resistace will have get away boats waiting. It will just be a matter of slipping over the side of the raft, swimming under the barrier, and then to one of the rescue boats.
The storm is going to help cover us but at the same time the wind is generating high waves. I hope that Ron and his friends have something to help keep us from drowning before we can reach safely. I'm sure they do, especially if Albus Dumbledore is part of the rescue but that won't mean it's going to be any easier to make myself go over the side of the raft with water churning all around me.
Starting back down the trail to get more wood, I do a quick pat of one leg. The wand hidden there is still there. I can feel it against my leg, held in place by twine, but every now and again a quick pat of the leg is definately comforting. Quickening my pace so I won't be away from the clearing when it's time to stun the guards, I curse Bulstrode under my breath for making me carry the new lumber from where it was delivered to the clearing instead of letting it be taken there a faster, easier way that doesn't have me out of the clearing for long minutes at a time.
It Begins
Author: Harry Potter
Date: 03-09-09 20:29
A cough wracks Harry body as he strains to plow a reasonably straight furrow. His tattered back burns and the rest of his body is flushed with a heat that doesn't come from the exertion of heavy work. All the rain is doing is making Harry feel a chill on top of the fevered warmth.
The most recent whipping was because it was Harry's fault the warden didn't order enough lumber for one of her pet projects. After the whipping, rather to put Harry in the hole for a day or more, Warden Bulstrode decided that Harry should single handedly plow several new sections for farming. Some of the sections should be fairly fertile but there are so many rocks to clear Harry's already lost count of how many of the large ones he's moved and didn't even bother counting the smaller ones even though it would have helped pass the time.
If not for the fact that one of the groups with access to smuggled in wands is nearby, Harry would be frustratingly stuck waiting while groups all around the island surprise the guards in the first step in the escape plan. Harry still thinks he's going to need to serve as a distraction so the others can get away but has kept his mouth shut about it when the escape plan has been discussed.
Still bend double from the coughs, it's all Harry can do to stand again when one of the guards barks from under a tented canvas, protecting him from the rain, "Enough slacking, Potter. Get moving!"
The guard's words have barely reached Harry's ears when the guard falls over. Elizabeth Ross stands just behind the man, a grin on her face. "Merlin, that felt good!"
Harry's getting himself untangled from the plough's harness as Elizabeth binds the guard. Around them, the few other guards are also down, those with wands in Elizabeth's work group having taken the guards by surpised. With the guards' wands added to their arsenal, Harry hanging clutching one as he desperately fights to keep from coughing again, they hide the unconscious, bound guards then start through a stretch of thickly grown forest to where another group that does not have any of the smuggled wands is harvesting fruit.
Feeling wretchedly sick but very determined, Harry finds he's looking forward to being able throw a few stunning spells. He just hopes this borrowed wand works halfway decently for him and fleetingly wonders what has ever become of his own wand, something which he'd grown rather attached to over the years.
Keeping Count (Connie)
Author: Georgia Copperpot
Date: 03-10-09 16:11
No matter what other jobs Connie gets assigned, from the day she arrived at Community Q she's been part of a small group that collects firewood every single day. Others get rotated to do the task but a few have the job every day. That group was to help a couple of the groups between them and the rafts. Glancing around, Connie can tell they're all on edge but at least with the heavy rain the one guard with the group is paying more attention to keeping dry than he is to how tense they all are.
When the time does arrive, the guard isn't knocked out with the wand they have. The grandmotherly Eugenie Finch shocks them by whomping the man in the back of the head with the branch she'd gone behind him to gather as firewood. Standing over him as he's bound with ropes from his own wand, Eugenie grins with glee. "I've been wanting to hit Bert here ever since he broke my granddaughter's heart several years ago."
There are nervous chuckles at her words, everyone busy scanning for signs they've been spotted as Bert's unconscious form is hidden in the bush. Not all Q guards are on duty, some probably not even on the island, so the groups have to be careful about being seen. There is no telling how many guards would swarm the island if an alarm were raids. Not telling how many guards or if something worse might come swooping in after them all.
Connie and the others in the small group grab up wood and start walking with it. If they look like they are working as they should be when approaching either of the groups they have to help along the way, then the guards with those groups won't be suspicious. They'd come across the first group right where one of that group's members told one of Connie's group at breakfast.
Connie doesn't know about anyone else but for her, part of the anxiety and tenseness stems from just how many things could go wrong. Some tasks are assigned on a weekly basis, some such as the core group for firewood gathering have been permanent since arrival, some shift daily and some even shift several times within a day.
The basic plan for escape is the same as when it was first decided. Things were revised slightly when they were able to make enough rafts large enough to get everyone off the island, and the plan added to when contact was made from the outside, but the basic plan is the same. What has had to keep changing is trying every morning during the short time they have for breakfast to coordinate where people would at the designated escape time. When the rain had not let up this morning, Connie had had the sinking feeling the plan would once more be put on hold.
To actually be going through with the escape is both a relief and bloody nerve wracking. Adding to Connie's anxiety is that she's the one who volunteered to see off the first two rafts and keep a count so that the third wouldn't leave anyone behind. At least one thing about having the smuggled in wands that has helped ease some of nervousness Connie and others have had is that those working on the rafts were able to use the wands to help make the rafts safer.
Still, Connie's never been sure how everyone is expected to fit on the three rafts. They hardly seem big enough. At least no one's in a lottery to stay behind now even if Hagrid and Harry were saying up until a few days ago that they'd be staying. Or rather, Harry had been and Hagrid was refusing to go if Harry didn't.
Connie's group has stunned the guards of the first group they were to help and is closing in on the second. The guards of that one are easily subdued and like the others are tied up and hidden. A few minutes more and they are uncovered the first raft with Connie making sure she's accounted for each person climbing onto. As other groups arrive, she does the same and soon the people on that raft are pushing it out into the water, away from shore, using some of the wands to help keep the choppy waves from being even worse.
Hiding herself, clutching the wand she was given - the one that had Bert the guard's - Connie watches the first raft until the combination of heavy rain, waves, and wind makes it hard to see even though it's not that far out. Knowing that watching for the raft will just make her more tense, Connie turns her attention to where other groups will be coming from so that she can help them load the second raft and keep the head count going.
Plans for Easter
Author: Ella
Date: 03-10-09 18:01
Immediately after the end of Herbology, Ella walked at a clip away from the castle and to the gate that separated the grounds from the village of Hogsmeade. Zane waited for her on the other side, decked from head to toe in black as was his habit and smoking a cigarette. He reached for the slim, silver case he kept in the pocket of his trench coat and lit up another smoke, which he then passed through the bars of the gate to Ella.
She accepted it gratefully, having run out of her own cigarette stash well over a week ago.
"Got any more?" she asked breathlessly.
"Just what's left in my case," he replied, reaching for it again to give to Ella.
"I was thinking," Ella began, as her hand closed over the silver case, "that I'd rather spend my Easter holiday with you than touring Vienna with my parents."
"Will they be terribly upset if you cancel your plans with them at such short notice?" Zane asked.
Ella shrugged her shoulders nonchalantly and slipped the cigarette case into her pocket. "Actually, I already told them I wouldn't be going. I told them I'd be staying here at Hogwarts."
"Was that your plan all along? To forgo visiting Vienna with your folks and spending what should be your time away from Hogwarts at Hogwarts itself?" One of Zane's eyebrows was perfectly arched and the hint of a smile touched his lips as if he knew exactly what Ella would say next.
Ella stepped closer to the bars, wishing they weren't there so that she could step closer to Zane instead. "No. I was hoping you'd invite me to your place. So, will you?"
Zane nodded. "What time will they let you off campus tomorrow?"
"Sometime before 11 when the Hogwarts Express leaves, I imagine," Ella said. "Where should I meet you?"
"If the weather's nice, in the park. If not, the Hog's Head?"
"Okay."
It began to drizzle. Ella didn't mind the rain too much but Zane didn't want to get his newly oiled coat wet. He stubbed out what remained of his cigarette with the sole of his boot and then cupped Ella's face with his hands. He kissed her on the mouth and said, "Tomorrow."
"Tomorrow," Ella answered.
Zane disapparated.
Ella lifted her left leg and crossed it at her other knee so that the bottom of her shoe was exposed. She rubbed out the remnants of her cigarette on the sole and then flicked it through the bars onto the cobblestones. Then she made the trip back up to the castle, arriving there covered in droplets of water and not at all caring. She couldn't wait for tomorrow!
At The Beach
Author: Harry Potter
Date: 03-10-09 18:55
Of those he's with, Harry's one of the last to reach the remaining raft. That's partly because he's trailing behind keeping watch and partly because he's sick and can't seem to get his body to move as fast as he'd like. When Harry does reach the beach where the rafts have been hidden, the last raft is more than half full and those with him are already climbing on board.
Harry locates Connie Copperpot to ask, "Any problems so far?"
"Just the wind keeps pushing the rafts back, so it's taking longer to make any real headway around the point. From what I can tell anyway. Visibility isn't good."
"Harry, come on and get in," Lee Henderson call, the wind carrying his voice away, making him sound faint even though he's not all that far from where Harry's standing with Connie.
Pushing soggy locks off his forehead, Harry peers owlishly at Lee. His glasses have become so battered and scratched it's a miracle he can see anything with them at all. "In a moment, Lee."
To Connie Harry asks, "Is Hagrid on one of the other rafts?"
"The second one though let me tell you, it took some doing. Hagrid was not going to go until he made sure you actually got on one yourself."
"What convinced him?"
"Everyone on that raft. They said they wouldn't go either if Hagrid didn't get on. They also reminded him that those of us on the third raft were going to ensure you're on this one or we'd be answering to him."
Harry feebly chuckles. "So if I were offer up a distraction to Bulstrode and not be on this raft, I'd be responsible for all of you facing Hagrid's wrath?"
"Yes, so we aren't going to let you do anything foolish." Connie grins tightly at him.
Harry says nothing for a few seconds then asks, "How many are we missing?"
"With those who've arrived since you did, five."
Just as Connie says five, Jason Verona crashes through some of the dense growth surrounding the small beach. "Guards and Bulstrode on our tails!"
The other four hit the beach just after Jason, all of them going at top speed. There's a flurry to get onto the raft and pushed into the water, Connie double checking her count to make sure everyone's accounted for. Titania Bennett, as she's helping get the raft into the water, gives an out of breath explanation.
"Bulstrode must have been making surprise inspections and seen us overpower our guards. That or another guard saw us. Tried to surround us but we outmanuevered them."
Jason stumbles in the crashing waves, coming up spluttering but gamely hanging on to the raft. Only when bright bolts of light whizz around them does Harry realize that Jason was probably grazed by one. Those on the raft turn amid a flurry of shouts to shoot back. Harry, who'd despite being sick, had deliberately positioned himself to help with getting the raft free of the beach. Now he turns and also starts firing back, the Bert the guard's wand a little sluggish for him but functioning adequately enough under the circumstances.
Even with the combination of heavy rain and damaged glasses obscuring his vision, Harry can see just how lividly enraged Imogen Bulstrode is. Over the sound of the shots being fired, waves crashing, the raft slapping the water and scraping the beach, Harry can clearly hear her yelling, "I'll kill you, Potter."
He yells back, "If Voldemort didn't scare me, what makes you think you do?"
That just serves to enrage her more, her wand pointed only at Harry. Undaunted, Harry points the appropriated wand right back at her even as those the raft is finally pushed free of the beach. Some of those who'd been pushing it free climb on while those nearest Harry grab for him, pulling him on with them.
Harry gets off one good shot but doesn't see how good his aim was. He's too busy getting hit by a spell from Bulstrode and being pulled onto the raft. Harry's last conscious thought was about the color of the spell's light that hit him.
"At least it isn't green."