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A Break in the Calm
Author: Abdul Hazrat AlGunud
Date: 11-16-11 17:33
Abdul sat at the Ravenclaw table, munching on toast and sipping coffee. He was getting used to the English version of coffee, which, to his way of thinking, was not really coffee at all. The first week of classes had passed quickly and quietly. Abdul allowed himself a sliver of hope that this represented a good omen for the rest of the school year. His optimism lasted until the mail delivery. The hall filled with owls, swooping about to deliver packages and letters. The younger students squealed with delight at receiving treats and gifts from home. The older students read letters and regaled each other with tales of family and home. Abdul had watched this scene play out last year. He had never received any letters during the previous school year. So he regarded the entire affair with indifference. He was spreading apricot jam on a third piece of toast when a letter landed on his plate. Abdul froze in shock momentarily. The outside of the envelope was addressed to him. The handwriting did not belong to his father. This killed his initial hope that he had accidentally received a letter addressed to someone else.
He leaned back in the chair, toast momentarily forgotten in his hand, regarding the letter like a poisonous serpent. His mind raced. No one amongst his old friends knew he was at Hogwarts. His father had been adamant that Abdul not write or converse with anyone in Damascus. His foster family, the Gale's, were polite but remarkably reticent about asking him about his home life, or anything else for that matter. It seemed inconceivable that they would write to him.
"Aren't you going to open it?"
Abdul realized that he had been staring at the letter long enough to where people were beginning to notice. This last remark had come from Carlotta Calloway.
"Of course, I shall," Abdul responded with an elaborate shrug. He took a bite of toast and casually placed the letter in his robe.
"You know for someone who never receives mail, you act like it is not very important." This again came from Carlotta.
Abdul finished his toast and coffee, and then stood. Privately, he was unnerved by the realization that someone had been observing him so closely. He spoke in a nonchalant manner which masked his inner turmoil, "Perhaps it is nothing. We shall see. Now I must go and prepare for Herbology. Good day."
As he turned to go, he bumped into another student. Before he could even open his mouth to apologize, the student, a Slytherin whom Abdul vaguely recognized as being several a fifth year student, began to speak rapidly, "I just heard that you have Herbology. Listen, would you happen to have any of your old papers or tests? I heard that the professor teaches the same thing to every student, no matter what year they are. I could make it worth your while." The student appeared so desperate that Abdul regretted telling him that he did not have any old papers from Herbology.
He made his way out of the hall, past a small knot of students who were discussing the Quidditch trials. Quidditch was not a sport in which Abdul had any interest, so he paid the students no mind, ignoring their conversation about who released more candy wrappers onto the field.
He found an alcove away from the ebb and flow of the students. He sat, and with some trepidation, opened the letter. It was a simple missive, asking for a meeting in the Astronomy tower on Friday evening. It was signed by Professor Dumbledore. Abdul felt his pulse beginning to race. He stuffed the letter back into his robe and wandered out into the courtyard. The sun was shining brightly but it seemed as if a cloud had momentarily eclipsed the sun. Although the letter could, in theory, be an innocent note, Abdul knew now that the events of the previous year had resurfaced. There would be no easy resolution to this dilemma. It could not be simply buried and forgotten.
Do I Really Need Flying Lessons?
Author: Rylee
Date: 11-16-11 17:33
Thursdays were decent enough days, I had three classes which was good and just like every other day but Tuesday when I had Astronomy and didn't get to bed until about twelve thirty and was up by seven to ensure proper time to shower and make it down to the Great Hall for something resembling a decent breakfast – though it was usually only on Saturday and Sunday mornings that I had time to eat breakfast similar to what I was accustomed to at home.
However, on top of classes today, I also had a flying lesson.
Which my Father insisted that I participate in because eventually he wants me to try out for Quidditch, though; why I would play a sport I have absolutely no idea. I'd much rather sit in the stands as a spectator than a participant in any sporting event Wizarding or Muggle (and none of the muggle sports really interest me either), really. The idea of getting sweaty or dirty and there is no sauna or mud bath involved simply boggles my mind. Yes, I know there are girls that play, and even some Slytherin girls on the house team, but that does not mean that I have any intention of playing – ever. Why I need lessons when I've been on a broom since I was three I have no idea – thank you Father for your useless additions to my schedule.
It was bad enough that I had to spend most of my time dressed in my school robes; I couldn't actually wear most of the fabulous clothes that I'd brought with me. Drab robes, though I will admit that I do look quite good in emerald and silver, the Sorting hat did a good job placing me amongst the green and silver house of Slytherin. Flying lessons, perhaps I could skip them, and it was a thought I was sorely tempted to have, but I would not wish the repercussions of such an action to land me in a detention or what have you.
"In your first year, did you ever consider not going to flying lessons Evinrude?" I asked the second year who was sitting across from me in the Slytherin Common room waiting for a couple of the boys to come down so they could go to lunch.
"I'd considered it, but had no intention of doing such because the best performances kept my spending money intact for owl orders and to send with a couple of third years on Hogsmeade weekends." She said, before casting her gaze toward the dormitories and smiling when she saw Vinny coming into the commons. "I'll see you later Rylee…enjoy your flying lesson this afternoon."
I glared at her as she retreated from the house commons with Vinny, and the pair of them headed to the Great Hall for lunch. Speaking of, I should probably grab something to eat that was larger than the piece of toast I had for breakfast as I'd woken up late. Grabbing my things for Herbology and my newest catalogue I headed to the Great Hall for a decent meal, I still had an hour or two before Herbology at two, and so I chose to make the most of it and purchase a few new items of clothes or shiny baubles or maybe even a new pair of boots. Winter was coming and the winter fashions would soon be released.
No Progress To Report (Emerson Reed)
Author: Jet
Date: 11-16-11 18:15
Emerson Reed strides across the hotel lobby to a bank of lifts. She doesn't care as much for the Muggle contraptions even though they aren't hugely different from Wizarding ones and are, in fact, more modern in appearance. She would consider taking the stairs but her destination is on the twentieth floor and while she's in excellent physical condition Emerson has no desire to work up a sweat while wearing a silk blouse.
At room 2016 Emerson smooths her skirt then pats a stray hair back into place before rapping on the hotel room door. It's opened by a middle age man of average height who ushers her inside without so much as a hello. Before shutting the door he looks up and down the hallway earning him a, "Don't be so paranoid."
"Old habits."
Emerson moves further into the room, the sitting area of a well appointed suite, and takes a seat in a leather club style easy chair. "Why am I here?"
"I want an update."
"I've told you there isn't anything new."
"Then perhaps it's time to move someone else in who can move things along faster."
"Don't be ridiculous. The time you'd lose putting someone new into place would hardly be worth the wait."
"You've gotten us nothing."
"I do not call getting into his bed nothing," Emerson archly replies.
"The others are getting impatient for real progress that goes beyond knowing you are having sex."
"Without using illegal means none of them would yet have what we're after. He's extremely closed about certain topics. Do you really think I would have bedded him otherwise?"
"I don't know. It isn't a stretch to imagine you would. He's a nice looking young man and by your own admission you have derived pleasure from your sexual encounters."
Emerson gets up with a huff, stalking to look out the nearest window. After a minute of strained silence she turns to emphatically state, "I am no slut."
"No one thinks you are. You are doing what you perceive to be necessary."
"You aren't going to get anyone as close without a long wait, especially if I leave the picture entirely. He would need time to get over a broken relationship."
"I will recommend to the others that we should hold off taking that step then. I shall also bring up using additional means whether you remain in place or we decide to pull you and place someone else."
Emerson nods and moves towards the door. "Don't call me in for another off schedule meeting without a bloody good reason."
"Then see you in two weeks. Have something for us."
Another nod and Emerson crosses the remaining distance and exits the room, actually looking forward to riding the lift down as that means getting her out of the hotel all the quicker.
Lost and Confused
Author: Errol
Date: 11-16-11 19:45
Reaching the Great Hall after Ancient Runes only because he followed other students, Errol slumps into a seat at the Ravenclaw table. Navigating his old school had never been this difficult even on his first day there. At least his next class is outside somewhere. It's not until two but Errol thinks he'll need to go out early so he can wander around in search of a place that looks like it would be where Care of Magical Creatures is taught. It's an elective so Errol has no idea who might be in the class and isn't about to go from fifth year to fifth year asking just so he has someone to tag along behind. He'd only made it from Herbology to Ancient Runes on time because he'd heard Alastor Jenkins mention the class so followed him.
So far none of his teachers - he really needs to get used to thinking of them as professors - have acted in a way towards him that would confirm for Errol that they know why he's transfered to Hogwarts three weeks into the term. They've not acted as if they know but that doesn't mean anything. The professors he's met so far could just be very professional.
Errol has had questions from other students about where he's from and why he's transferred to Hogwarts. Errol hasn't told any of them but he's also not lied, not really. It's more of an avoidance. He's told those who've asked that his uncle wanted him to come to Hogwarts. Errol's not ready to talk about the full story to all these new people.
He doesn't even want to think about it but it weighs heavily on his mind all the time, even when he's asleep. His dreams are more along the lines of nightmares, taking him through that night and what followed over and over. At least they don't have him waking up screaming.
Not really hungry but having decided to skip breakfast, Errol finally stirs from his slumped position to see what the offerings for today's lunch are.
Finishing Homework and a Moment with Gideon
Author: Rylee
Date: 11-17-11 18:45
I'd been a good girl and gone to the Flying Lesson and immediately gone to shower before heading to dinner. I despised sports and I saw no reason why I would need to know how to fly a broom, it wasn't like it was going to be my main mode of transportation. We had a driver, and there were port keys and apparation when I turned seventeen and passed my licensing examination. The only people that needed brooms were the athletic type and that was decidedly not me - for I had no desire to play Quidditch which is why I'd told my parents that I had not made the team when I'd tried out (which was a lie and I hadn't actually shown up to the trials at all).
"Dølafe." I said to gain entry to Slytherin House, heels clicking upon the stone floors, though muffled slightly as I crossed over the various carpets that added to the decor of the dungeon. Antiquated was a good word to describe the decor of the house, however it had that rich aristocratic taste to it as well.
I intended on settling in the common room and finishing up my assignment for History of Magic that was due tomorrow morning at nine, so I headed to my room to grab my book, parchment, quill and lap desk before heading back down to the commons to settle upon one of the thickly padded chairs and settling in. I slipped my feet out of my favorite Steve Madden pumps and tucked them beneath me as I flipped my book open to the required chapter.
No sooner had I finished the last sentence on my essay on an item tied to one of the four Hogwarts founders, I'd chosen something other than the locket and ring that were Salazar Slytherin's, did a hoot above my right shoulder demand my attention. A smile curled my lips as I looked up to see Lixue my owl perched upon the back of the chair.
"Good evening Lixue." I murmured, stroking my fingers over her belly before pulling a treat from the small pouch on my lap desk and offering it to her. "It isn't that late, but I know you are restless after the sunsets." She hooted in response and I pushed up from my chair and padded to the entry to Slytherin house, opening the door long enough for her to fly out I soon returned to my seat and sighed.
I wanted to go shopping, mail order shopping was quite simply not the same and bloody boring. I missed going shopping, coming home with bags upon bags and boxes of things to fill my closet or waiting on deliveries of new furniture to redo my bedroom, sitting room, or bathroom. Seriously it was maddening. "What I wouldn't give to be walking down Oxford Lane and savoring the feel of designer clothes beneath my fingers and trying them on."
With my homework finished, I settled once more upon the plush cushion of the chair and flipped open my latest issue of Magical Style Magazine and began marking the items that I wanted to purchase for this season's fall fashions, and not to mention the beginning of the winter season. I still needed to find out from Mummy and Daddy where we would be spending the winter hols this year, would be gambling in Monte Carlo or skiing in the Swiss Alps or skiing in Colorado in the States or sunning ourselves on a beach in Brazil.
"Anything interesting?" Gideon asked as he came to stand behind me and peer down at the magazine that I had open in my lap.
"Quite a few things actually. Including something that would look absolutely perfect on you..." I said, flicking my gaze over his features for a moment before flicking back a few pages and pointing to a pair of jeans, thick soled boots, a solid black zip sweater over a vintage Quidditch team t-shirt.
"That doesn't look half bad. I will have to tell my Mum to order it for me before I get home for the holiday." He said leaning against the edge of the chair and looking down at her.
"I look forward to seeing you in it..." I said with a smirk, before shifting, pushing myself up and slipping back into my pumps. "I'm going to call it a night. I'll see you in class tomorrow Gideon." I grinned and blew him a kiss over my shoulder as I headed toward the girl's dormitory and the room that I currently shared with Amorica Wenlock (who apparently had a family as large as mine and most of them were attending Hogwarts it would seem) and Callie Blackwell.
As my books hit my bed, the charm that I'd placed on the ink while I'd been in the commons faded and the little doodles on the pages were now visible, and most of them were declarations of adoration of one Gideon Coy with whom I had every single class.
Waiting Room
Author: Coco Nutt
Date: 11-17-11 19:35
For the moment Coco sits alone in the hospital waiting room. Mitzi is in with Abe and Papa Wal is down the hall talking with a nurse who lives a few houses down from Coco and him. Coco had been at the shoppe when her grandfather had called about Abe. She'd left Nutt's & Bolt's in the capable hands of Annamarie Cortese, one of the people Coco's hired over the last several months to run the shoppe as Papa Wal and Abe do less and less, Mitzi is spending large amounts of time taking care of Abe, and Coco puts in hours at McFusty's in Hogsmeade. Before coming to the hospital, Coco had apparated to her father Chad's to leave Pea in the company of Button, Chad's girlfriend Letitia's cat.
Coco's hadn't said why she was leaving Pea but Chad, only saying she needed to go on an errand and couldn't take Pea. As the tiny dog's health isn't the best any longer and he is extremely old for a teacup poodle, Coco has gotten to where she never leaves Pea without company.
She's also not called Fritz yet. She's trying to decide whether to call him tonight or in the morning. This time they are certain Abe won't pull through. His heart has been damaged by so many attacks already and the one a short while ago was massive. Coco hates to disturb Fritz, ruining his evening and having him sit here all night with her. At the same time, if Abe goes tonight having Fritz there with her would be comforting especially when Papa Wal and Mitzi will both need someone to lean on.
The Bolts do have children but both moved away many years ago and rarely come visit. The same is true of the grandchildren. They all have such busy lives that over the years it's also been difficult for Abe and Mitzi to schedule going to any of them for visits. That always has coco rolling her eyes. People shouldn't have to schedule seeing their grandchildren, or the one great grandchild Abe and Mitzi now have. Sure, coordinate visits so that you aren't going when those you want to see won't be available but sporting events and club activities aren't reasons to tell grandparents not to visit. Those are things grandparents love to see. People should make time for family as far as Coco is concerned.
How both of Abe and Mitzi's kids grew up to be so selfish and self-centered is something Coco has never figured out. The Bolts are two of the nicest, most generous people Coco has ever known. They helped raise her and when Mama Hazel died, the Bolts were right there with Papa Wal and Coco.
Pushing hair off her face, Coco scrounges in her purse for a scrunchie. Her hand brushes across her mobile bringing her thoughts back to Fritz. After using the scrunchie to put her hair in a ponytail, Coco pulls the mobile from her purse, deciding she will call Fritz afterall.
Catching Up
Author: Bronwyn Dewhurst
Date: 11-18-11 18:15
Normally, Bronwyn worked until early afternoon at the WWN station, but she decided to reward herself today with an early start to the weekend. She left work promptly after going off the air and spent the hours before lunchtime meandering up and down Diagon Alley. Mostly she window-shopped, but she did treat herself to a few things here and there.
Shortly before she knew Desi normally took her lunch, Bronwyn apparated to the phone box that served as the visitor's entrance to the Ministry of Magic. She eventually found herself waiting at the bottom of the lifts in the Atrium. Right on time, Desi emerged from one of the lifts, ducking to avoid a few paper airplanes sailing into it.
Desi almost didn't see Bronwyn at first. She headed in the direction of the fireplaces to floo out for lunch.
"Desi!" Bronwyn called out.
Desi stopped, turned, and then smiled at Bronwyn. "Hey. What are you doing here?"
"To see you, of course! Where are you headed?"
"I was thinking about having Vietnamese today." Desi raised a brow. "Are you going to make me change my mind?"
"No, Vietnamese is fine!"
A few minutes later, they were seated in a booth in a Muggle restaurant a block away from the Ministry of Magic. Bronwyn awkwardly attacked her bowl of beef pho with eye round steak and well-done lean meat with a pair of chopsticks. Desi watched her with an amused expression on her face.
"I give up," Bronwyn muttered, abandoning the chopsticks for a spoon. Then she brightened at Desi. "So, how goes it? Are you on your best behavior at work?"
Desi shrugged. "I'm not on probation or anything, if that's what you're asking."
Bronwyn decided to let the matter drop. She knew that Desi was still sore over the fact that Bianca had gotten off with a slap on the wrist. Then there was the fact that Xavier was still confused about how he felt about Bianca, despite knowing that everything between them had been a lie. The Wicked Wizards of the West were on indefinite hiatus.
"How are you?" Desi asked. She'd been absent all summer and had missed all of the recent drama in Bronwyn's life, but she'd since gotten filled in, in part by Bronwyn herself but also by her frequent partner at work, Anthony. Desi hadn't been pleased to hear any of it and had wished she could have been there for her friend. More than anything, she wanted to kick Theodore Nott's ass.
"It's getting better," Bronwyn replied, seeming to know exactly what Desi was asking. She changed the subject again, smiling even brighter than before. "You'll never guess who wrote me!"
"Um, tell me?"
"Arley!"
Desi grinned. "Yeah? How's he doing?"
The girls had stayed in contact with him and Sebastian for a while after the ordeal involving Mr. Montgomery and the kidnapping of his children, not to mention Arley's mutilation. But then, as always seemed to happen, both sides stopped writing each other.
"He seems okay," Bronwyn said. "His note was brief. He apologized for being silent for so long. I told him he needs to visit us sometime. Maybe we should plan a trip to New York, too. You're allowed to leave the country now, aren't you?"
"Yeah."
"Good. Well, I haven't heard back from Arley, but I'm sure I will soon."
Something Of A Mystery
Author: Charlie Weasley
Date: 11-18-11 19:30
"Fill me in," Kellan McFusty says, coming up beside Charlie after apparating to one of the further reaches of the McFusty Hebridean Black Preserve.
"We've got a mystery." Charlie pats iridescent, pearly scales, "As you can see, it's an Antipodean Opaleye. No sign of fighting with one of ours, no obvious indicators of disease, no visible signs of man-made injury."
"No sign of disease doesn't mean that's not the cause. Blythe should get on this A S A P."
"She's already on it."
Charlie leads Kellan around to the other side of the dragon's body where veterinary healer Blythe Mumps is low on the ground as part of her examination of the Opaleye.
"Have you turned the body over?"
Charlie shakes his head. "Not yet, so it is possible he died of wounds."
"There's no blood in the area," Kellan notes, taking in their surroundings. "No new disturbances to brush or trees. No recent signs of another dragon. I can see why you'd conclude that his death doesn't appear to be from fighting with one of ours or from some sort of other injury."
Blythe suddenly pops up off the ground. "You can move him now."
"You want him turned here or just want to wait until we get him to your surgery?" Charlie asks.
"Let's flip him here so I can get a cursory look."
Charlie, Kellan, and Blythe work together to levitate the Opaleye up then turned, lowering the body to a spot a short distance from where it was. That way while Blythe checks out the newly exposed side of the Opaleye's body, Charlie and Kellan can study the ground where it had been.
After around 15 minutes have passed Blythe tells them, "Okay, let's get him moved."
Kellan leaves long enough to get more hands to help and soon they've got the Opaleye moving back to headquarters where Blythe's surgery is located. Charlie helps with the move but doesn't stay longer after delivering the dragon. He returns to the spot the body was found to continue investigating for clues as to why a dragon from either New Zealand or Australia ended up this far north only to die without any signs or indications of what killed it. It was a young dragon so old age was ruled out immediately. It could have had some sort of congenital defect or a disease that killed it without leaving it sickly in appearance or leaving marks like some diseases, such as dragon pox, would cause.
Starting at the spot on which the body had lain, Charlie begins a more thorough investigation, hoping the cause of death doesn't turn out to be some contagious disease that would put their Hebridean Blacks in jeopardy.
What's Going On?
Author: Ginny Weasley
Date: 11-19-11 14:02
Sidling up to Ginny as she attempts to photograph a Roaming Gnome toy for an upcoming Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes catalog, Fred asks with a sly wink, "What's going on between you and Harry?"
Ginny, somewhat perplexed by the question, shoots a frown at Fred before bending close to the table on which the Roaming Gnome is galavanting from one side to the other and threatening, "Be still for 30 seconds or I will permanently deactive you."
Cowed by both the tone used and the fear of never being able to move again, the Roaming Gnome freezes with a horrified grimace on its face.
Ginny sighs. "Try to look happy."
The smile the Roaming Gnome gives is of a forced, petrified sort that actually results in a somewhat menacing expression.
"Maybe turn to the side," Ginny suggests, patently ignoring Fred who's boring holes into her with his stare, waiting for her to answer his question. When the Roaming Gnome doesn't move Ginny assures, "This is not a trick so I can permanently turn you off."
The toy is still suspicious, making only a quarter turn. Still, that's better than the full on terrified, forced grin accompanied by eyes that look somewhat maniacal. Ginny quickly takes the photo and then another.
"Okay, you are done. I hope."
With an expression of extreme relief the Roaming Gnome starts running in ever widening circles. As the table is charmed so that the Roaming Gnome cannot escape from it, Ginny finally turns to her brother.
"What?" she asks with exasperation.
"You. Harry. Something going on." Fred slowly enunciates each word.
Ginny waggles her ring clad left hand at Fred. "Engagement. Wedding. Planning," she replies, parroting his speaking style.
"Besides that."
"I don't know what you mean, Fred."
His eyes narrow in thought, his eyes dropping to Ginny's stomach. "Are you carrying a little Potter?"
"Fred!"
"Is that an outraged yes or an outraged no?"
"I'm not pregnant."
"Would be okay if you are. You're marrying him, not that there's any shame otherwise these days. You are marrying Harry, aren't you?"
"Of course I am."
"Good because Mum would kill you for letting her think she's got another wedding going on. So what is it then?"
"It's your imagination getting away from you, Fred, is what it is."
"I'll figure it out."
"Yes, well, good luck with that. I need to get to practice so I'll finish the new catalog photos this evening."
"Ha! There IS something going on. Friday night and you'll be back here taking photos."
Ginny rolls her eyes. "I've only three more to take so should be done in plenty of time for Harry and me to meet up with Neville and Hannah for dinner. It won't be a late night though as I have Club Day to attend at Hogwarts tomorrow."
Fred tries not to look crestfallen at having what he thought was confirmation shot down. Still, he stubbornly says, "Try and deflect all you want. I'm going to figure out what's going on."
Ginny pats Fred on the cheek then heads up the stairs. If Fred can figure out that there's somewhat of a strain because of Harry's news to Hermione, Ron, and her that he's hiding Peter Pettigrew, then more power to him. Ginny could easily tell Fred but she won't. It's up to Harry who else knows but as badly as Ron took it and with Hermione and Ginny not very happy with him about it, and with Sirius not speaking to Harry unless absolutely unavoidable and Remus more than a little peeved, Ginny can't see Harry rushing to fill anyone else in anytime soon.
A Lesson for Both
Author: Abdul Hazrat AlGunud
Date: 11-19-11 18:40
The sound of feet on the stepping stones seemed to echo throughout the entire tower. At least it sounded that way to Abdul. Even the sound of his own breathing seemed to carry through the still air like a faint rumble of thunder. Such furtiveness was not technically necessary. The note had not made any specific demand for secrecy, but it was understood. Most of the students were already in the common rooms of their respective houses or wrapping up after dinner activities. Thus there were few roaming about the castle. Unfortunately, the same could not be said about the castle's other inhabitants. Abdul had already been forced to detour around one corridor because of a confrontation between Nearly Headless Nick and the Bloody Baron taking place in that hallway.
His state of hyper vigilance alerted him to a scuffling on the stairs. Abdul paused, listening intently. The scuffling came from above him in the stairwell and it seemed to be very close by. To be caught ascending to the top of the Astronomy tower was not the worst thing that could befall him. But it would probably be unusual enough to provoke comment. If it became common knowledge that he had met privately with Professor Dumbledore, then it would definitely provoke comment as well as many questions that Abdul had no desire to answer. In desperation, Abdul climbed in an alcove containing a statue and flattened his back against the wall. The statue provided partial concealment. Abdul would have to trust that the shadows and the statue would provide enough cover to conceal him from whoever might be coming. The scuffling became more pronounced and it became evident that whoever was approaching carried a candle. The flicker provided only a modicum of illumination. It actually served to cast a deeper shadow over Abdul. Peering through the crook in the statue's arm, he saw Mr. Filch descending the stairwell. Filch passed the alcove where Abdul was hiding without even a glance toward the statue. Abruptly a gust of air caused the candle's flame to flicker and then go out. Abdul heard Filch cursing and then a faint chuckle. From his place of concealment Abdul could only see Filch's back. But he could distinctly hear Filch mutter something and suddenly the candle flared back to life. Filch turned around so suddenly that Abdul momentarily thought that he had been discovered. But the caretaker paid no attention to the alcove. He appeared to be looking up the stairwell, with an expression of someone caught doing something forbidden. Abdul knew that look well. Then Filch's expression changed to an ugly sneer as he turned and continued to descend the stairwell.
Abdul waited until he could no longer hear footsteps before climbing out of the alcove. The incident made Abdul even more cautious than before. Something about the caretaker's expression suggested more than just a sour disposition. Abdul reached underneath his robe and silently drew forth his jambiya. The hilt felt comfortable in his hand. He was vaguely reassured by its weight. Unlike a wand, the jambiya could be used either for casting spells or for more direct purposes.
When he climbed to the top of the tower, the stars were twinkling in the night sky. A partial sliver of the moon provide some light. A figure abruptly emerged from the shadow of a crenelation. Startled, Abdul dropped into a crouch blade extended. If Professor Dumbledore was at all surprised by this response, then he hid it well. He regarded Abdul silently for a moment before speaking.
"I asked to meet with you for the purpose of providing you some instruction on how to best protect yourself. Perhaps you are not quite as unprepared as I had feared. I have some exposure to spellcasting with the keris blade, but not enough. I still prefer the wand. Are you familiar with casting using the jambiya, as well as being versed in Tahtib?"
Abdul straightened and made a slight bow as he responded, "Yes, I was trained in the knife fighting at school in Damascus. The training involved both fighting and spellcasting."
"Excellent. You need practice in defending against opponents who are not utilizing the standard curses and offensive spells. Stand over there please. As I cast, attempt to block the spells."
By the time Abdul returned to the dorm, his roommates were fast asleep. His shoulders ached and he had lost all track of time. It must be close to 2 AM. Before sleep overtook him, Abdul considered what he had learned. He had thought himself reasonably capable of defending himself from hostile magics. However, Professor Dumbledore had proven him wrong. It was clear that the professor was not an opponent to take lightly. It was oddly reassuring to know that the enemy was formidable enough to arouse the professor's interest. Abdul fell asleep pondering this notion.
Late Friday Afternoon (Theodosia)
Author: Viktor Krum
Date: 11-19-11 18:54
Theodosia doesn't have scheduled office hours but is often at the pitch or in the fitness room overseeing students or in one of her offices doing paperwork of some sort. She's been doing the latter but is tired of it plus it's late in the day. Many will already be in the Great Hall for supper though Theodosia is undecided if she wants to go there or walk into Hogsmeade for a bite.
Emerging from her office she finds Dante Knight lifting weights. "You work out more than anyone I know," she comments.
With a laugh, Dante sits up on the weight bench, reaching for a towel to wipe his face. "We moved around so much it was hard to make friends. Running and working out can be done just about anywhere and don't require others."
"It's not a bad idea to have a spotter when bench pressing."
"Not a bad idea but also not absolutely necessary."
Theodosia sits down on an adjacent bench. "I see you a great deal running and working out but we've not really talked in awhile. How are you doing with your classes?"
"I think I'm doing okay. I'm still nervous and take up an obscene amount of time doing prep for each lesson but so far the students don't seem to hate me or act like I'm some sort of joke. How about you? How is the term treating you?"
"I stay busy, which is good. I try to check in on each Quidditch team's practice, giving advice and assistance. The F&A classes take some prep work and also require the writing of lesson plans, which I dislike having to do but one can't have everything. Flying lessons are going well, though there are a couple of first years this go around who seem to think they should not have to be there. I even heard one of them saying something about how her father signed her up for it. She must not realize that flying lessons are required of all first years."
"Let me guess. About so tall. Extremely well dressed and even her Slytherin robes looks expensive and tailored? Could give Karma a run for being the most fashion forward at Hogwarts?"
"Yes, that is she," Theodosia chuckles.
"Say, any further problems with that male friend of yours?"
"David is NOT my friend. No, he's not approached me since I saw him one day in August while I was in Hogsmeade. I threatened to sic an auror on him who just happened to be in the same shoppe. I'll let you finish your weight lifting. I'm going to swing by the pitch and check on whichever team signed up for the five to seven Friday slot, either Gryffindor or Slytherin, then get something to eat."
Theodosia leaves Dante adding more weights to bench press, grabbing up her coat as she goes. This time of September with the sun slowly starting to set, it's chilly out. Besides that, she's decided she will go into Hogsmeade for dinner after checking on whichever team is on the pitch. By the time she returns the other team should be practicing and she'll stop and observe them as well.