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Evening Class
Author: Fritz Schnackenpfefferhausen
Date: 12-13-11 18:08
Fritz slips into the large lecture hall where Norse Mythology will be taught and moves down to the front of the room. He veers left when he reaches the third row from the front and moves over until he's in the exact center of the room. Once there, he sits down and unpacks parchment, quill, ink bottle and a copy of the Poetic Edda from his satchel.
All of his classes meet during the day, except for this one, which meets Tuesday evenings. Given a choice, Fritz prefers attending class in the morning rather than in the evening. He really wants to take this class, though, and can only fit this particular session into his schedule this term.
Despite the evening hour and the subject matter, the class fills up quite significantly from when he first entered the lecture hall. The professor, a diminutive wizard wearing navy blue robes with silver runes printed on them, moves up to his lectern, which proves to be too high for him to see over. He rectifies the situation by conjuring a step stool on which to stand. For a moment, Fritz is reminded of Professor Flitwick, standing on a pile of books.
While the professor takes his time starting class, Fritz's mind wanders to his visit to the Diagon Alley Branch Library. Following Ms. Martini's advice, went gone there and searched through genealogical records for anything having to do with Berthold Beatenberg. Unfortunately, there wasn't a single mention of the man, not even in any of the biographies, biographical dictionaries, and biographical indices either.
Fritz was left thinking he needed to make a trip to Germany to continue his search, but he wasn't quite sure when he would take the time to do so.
Not a peep had come from Frau Hockenheim's book, either.
"Welcome to Norse Mythology," greets the professor in a high-pitched, almost effeminate voice, drawing Fritz from his thoughts. "My name is Jeremiah Smoot. As you can no doubt guess, I have a great interest in all things Scandinavian, with particular emphasis on folklore and myth. I wish I could take the time to go around the room and find out why you are taking my class, but alas, we have much to get through from now until the end of term. I do hope, however, that you will visit me during office hours so that we might get to know each other more intimately.
"Now let's get on with it, shall we? We begin with Muspell, the first world to exist…"
Fritz quickly dipped his quill into his ink bottle and then proceeded to take notes while Professor Smoot lectured on the Norse creation myth.
Trying To Finish Studying
Author: Christopher Chant
Date: 12-13-11 21:18
Much as he would have liked to remain in the Ravenclaw common room next to Catriona, Christopher kept getting distracted and he needs to finish an assignment and then once more read over Potions for tomorrow. As curfew had approach the house common room had become increasingly crowded. Enough of the Ravenclaws were making use of the common room that the first year exodus for Astronomy just before 10:30 was hardly noticeable. Even with the slow trickle of students going to their rooms as the hour grew later hadn't decreased the number of distractions and interruptions to Christopher's productivity. He'd finally given Cat's hand a squeeze and bade her, "Night, sleep well."
In the sixth year boys' dorm room he'd put flannel pajama bottoms and a t-shirt too old and ratty to wear on a daily basis but perfect for sleeping then gone to brush his teeth. Now back in the room Christopher gets comfortable on his bed with a lap desk, staring at the assignment while trying to think of how to finish it off. Two long paragraphs later, stifling a yawn, he puts the assignment in a folder then grabs his Potions textbook and notes.
He looks up as Hadrian Rabnott walks in with damp hair. "That shower was so nice and toasty I didn't want to leave."
Christopher grins, nodding at Hadrian's curtained bed from which a light snoring can be heard. "I thought you were already asleep."
Puzzlement flashes across Hadrian's face. "What the ?" he asks more to himself than to Christopher, striding over to his bed. Hadrian pulls one of the curtains back then moves, pulling the curtain even more, allowing Christopher to see.
Daniel Gelson is on top of the bed, a blanket wrapped around his arms and shoulders. Hadrian turns to look at Christopher. "He'd said he was tired but so tired he couldn't make it to his own bed?"
"Maybe so tired he just wasn't paying attention?" Christopher suggests.
Hadrian shakes his cousin's leg. "Daniel. Daniel. Get up."
Daniel's response is to pull the blanket tighter around his shoulders and roll a little away from Hadrian. Hadrian's response is to grab Daniel's leg again, shaking it more insistently. "Daniel! Get up!"
Daniel grumbles but flops over, eyes slitting open. "What?"
"You're going to be late for class."
"Huh?" Daniel groggily asks, sitting up slightly, looking for a clock.
"Class. Late."
Seeing that it's dark out, eyes finally alighting on a clock and seeing the time, Daniel jumps up with a, "Bloody hell! I've only got two minutes to get to Astronomy!"
He starts rooting around for the materials he'd need for class, not noticing that Hadrian is on the bed he's just vacated, crawling under the covers. He's to the door before Christopher stops him with, "It's Tuesday, Daniel."
Daniel stops so abruptly he skids into the door frame. He blinks owlishly at Christopher. "Tuesday. Not Wednesday."
Hadrian starts snickering with Christopher unable to stop himself from joining in. Daniel snorts and rolls his eyes as he pads back across the room. Hadrian's snickering intensifies as he notices Daniel's bare feet and boxer shorts.
A grinning Christopher asks, "Do you think you Professor Quigley would give you extra points for having those shooting stars on your knickers?"
"Oh, shut up," Daniel says with amusement as he thinks about the looks he would have gotten had he shown up to Astronomy with no shoes, no pants, and a t-shirt that was once a bright red but has now washed out to a somewhat girly dark pink color.
It takes them a few minutes to stop laughing then Daniel climbs into his own bed after apologizing for falling asleep on Hadrian's. Hadrian and he both pull their curtains closed, the room falling into silence once more. Christopher is determined to finish reading over his Potions again before calling it a night, and wonders if Jack and Abdul are sleeping so soundly that the other three didn't bother them or if they just haven't come to the room yet. Ten minutes later he shuts the Potions text closed with a snap, clears everything off his bed, and then more tired than he'd realized, is asleep almost as soon as his head hits the pillow.
Newborns
Author: Hermione Granger
Date: 12-14-11 18:41
The Newborn Infant Ward at St. Mungo's was Hermione's new favorite place in the hospital. Since Monday, she worked on Sub Ground 2 in Maternity. She had watched two deliveries and had assisted with another. She had also spent time in the NICU and in pediatrics. Hermione had liked everything she'd seen and done so far, but tending to the newborns surpassed all by a landslide.
She didn't know what it was about them. Hermione had never felt particularly maternal, at least as far as actual babies were concerned, though she'd never not wanted children either. Seeing all the little girls in pink and all the little boys in blue just tugged at her heartstrings. They were so adorable. Mostly they slept, but sometimes they looked around with their big eyes, taking everything in.
Hermione had gotten the opportunity to feed, change, and bathe some of the babies, even though those tasks were typically reserved for nurses, not healers. She didn't mind, though, as she still considered it part of her training, both professionally and personally.
She and Ron had talked about children some. They both wanted a family, but they weren't in a hurry to start one. They enjoyed their new life together, just the two of them. Ron was also busy with his career, and Hermione had only one more clinical rotation left after this one. There was time yet to start a family, but if it happened sooner than later, then that would be welcomed too.
Hermione did find it hard to resist marching straight home and making a baby after spending time with the newborns, though. She wanted one of her very own. A girl and a boy, she decided. She wanted to dress them in pink and blue, just like all the ones nestled in their cribs in front of her. She stood outside the ward, looking in through the glass window.
"Want to guess how many new healers and nurses get pregnant after working here a few days?" asked Heidi Bailey, a Neonatal Intensive Care Unit healer who had just wandered by with an armful of patient charts. She stopped next to Hermione and looked at the squirming babies through the window.
"That many, then?" Hermione asked with a laugh.
"You would be surprised! Then again, I had a baby last year, so I can't say I'm immune to the charm of newborn babies."
Hermione laughed again. "Congratulations. Are you headed to the NICU?"
"Yes, want to come?"
Hermione was reluctant to leave the window but she knew she needed a distraction. "Yes."
"Great. You can carry these." Heidi handed over every last one of the charts she carried.
Hermione juggled them into place and then followed Heidi to intensive care, throwing one last look over her shoulder at the cute babies nestled in their newborn cribs.
Back to Hogwarts (Marjani)
Author: Viktor Krum
Date: 12-15-11 18:03
Zuberi and Marjani had returned to Hogwarts a short time ago. She'd come straight to her room, hoping not to run into anyone, with anyone mainly being her friends, on the way. She lucked out, seeing no one on the walk up to Gryffindor tower and only encountering a few younger students once through the portrait portal. Each had given Marjani looks filled with pity or sorrow or both, a couple of them flashing her small, sympathetic smiles. None spoke, which was fine with her.
Once in her dorm room, Marjani went straight to her bed, pulling the curtains tightly closed. She lay there for ten or so minutes in the gloom before retrieving her wand from the purse she'd tossed on the end of the bed.
"Lumos."
There's a string Marjani has hanging down from the canopy that put there to suspend her wand from when using it as a light. Hands free now, she repositions on the bed to read over the top parchment in a stack someone had put there. Based on the handwriting on the parchment, that someone was Etta. The stack is a copy of notes Etta took for Marjani in the classes they have together. She flips through the pages and finds notes for Arithmany & Divination as well, a class Etta doesn't take. Both Jack Emerson and Daniel Gelson combined their notes for her. She pauses in skimming to read a side bar comment one of them wrote, involuntarily smiling in the process. Hadrian would have sent notes too but said you'd need a special decoding spell to read his horrible handwriting.
Next to the stack of notes from Etta, Jack, and Daniel, there is a box stuffed with condolence cards. She'll read each and every one, just not today. There's a huge box filled with cards that had been sent to Africa as well. Marjani looked at a few while there in the days leading up to the funeral but overall she's not read to sift through sympathy cards. She really has no idea how Dosie handled everything on her own when their parents died.
Marjani curls up, not moving, not thinking. She's not sure how much time passes before stirring because for the first time in days she's actually hungry. Does she really want to face the everyone in the Great Hall though? Maybe she can get someone to bring her something.
As she debates whether to ask someone to bring her dinner or to just go and get it herself, another thought strikes Marjani. It's Wednesday. Astronomy is at midnight but is she expected to go or is she free of classes until Ancient Runes in the morning?
Reaching up to send her lighted wand swinging on the end of the string, Marjani sighs, wondering if maybe she should have stayed in Africa and gone back to Okapi École de Sorcellerie afterall.
Wouldn't Know Honest
Author: Errol
Date: 12-16-11 17:30
There's at least twenty minutes left in Ancient Runes when there's a knock at the classroom's open door. Heads turn to see the always grumpy looking Mr. Filch. Ears strain to hear the exchange between the school's caretaker and Professor Hodfuffer, especially Errol's. He's certain that Mr. Filch made a point of glaring directly at him in those scant seconds before Professor Hodfuffer reached the doorway. Because of this, it comes as no surprise to him when Professor Hodfuffer says, "Errol Anderson, please go with Mr. Filch. Best take your things."
Errol hastily packs up his notes, ink, and text, scribbles his name across the top of the parchment with the in class assignment he was working on, then shoves the quill into the bookbag as well. He hands the parchment over to Professor Hodfuffer on his way out, hyperaware of being the object of everyone's attention.
Mr. Filch says nothing to Errol beyond, "This way," so they move in silence down the hall, Mr. Filch in a sort of hunched shouldered shamble with Errol shuffling along behind, worrying that he broke a school rule without realizing. When it becomes obvious he's being led to tower where Professor Dumbledore's office is located, Errol starts going over the last few days in minute detail, trying to figure out what he's done to be called from class and escorted to the principal's, that is, the headmaster's office.
The stairs to the office are already visible and at the foot Mr. Filch speaks again with a brusque, "Up you go."
Errol steps past him, mindful not to trip over the cat Mrs. Norris. Two sets of eyes stare after Errol once he's stepped onto the lowest stair but neither man nor cat linger once the staircase begins its spiral journey to deposit Errol at the landing leading into Professor Dumbledore's office.
The door is open but Errol hesitates nevertheless. There's no one there but a lone house elf. It or, rather, she turns and beckons him in and only after he's halfway to the desk does he see that someone's standing looking out one of the windows. Uncle Ross turns when the house elf says, "Professor Dumbledore will be here soon. Is the mister sure he would not like a refreshment?"
"Yes, I'm sure. The boy doesn't need anything either," Uncle Ross dismissively informs her before turning a glower on Errol. "Why am I just now learning about the incident?" he asks, voice a low growl.
Errol, who has no idea what school rule he broke much less that he caused an incident, grapples for a response. He's too slow to suit his uncle who closes the distance to Errol snapping, "ANSWER ME!"
"I don't know of any incident, sir."
Uncle Ross thrusts a somewhat crumpled looking page from a newspaper at him. Errol sees the headline and without having to check the newspaper's date knows it's from over a week ago. Sunday before last to be exact.
Errol shakes his head, "I didn't have anything to do with it."
"Pick a story and stick with it no matter how well it works, do you?"
"I wasn't even in Hogsmeade. You didn't give permission."
"As I recall, you are good at sneaking out."
"One time."
"Right."
"Honest! It was just the once."
"You wouldn't know honest if it walked up and punched you in the nose." Ross closes the distance, painfully gripping Errol by one shoulder. "How did you sneak off? Are things that lax around here? You know I may look into shipping you elsewhere. There's a school for problem students on an island in the Arctic Ocean."
"That will not be necessary, Mr. Anderson. At least for the time being," Albud Dumbledore calmly states from the office doorway. He gestures to one of the chairs in front of the large desk. "Please, won't you have a seat?"
Hand still on Errol's shoulder, Ross moves to the chair, propelling Errol along with him. He gives his nephew a sharp nudge to the adjacent chair then sits. Professor Dumbledore sits at well, resting his hands on the desktop and tenting his fingers. "What do we owe the pleasure of this visit, Mr. Anderson?"
Ross jerks the newspaper page away from Errol and tosses it onto the desk. "I want to know why no one informed me of this."
The headmaster reaches for the page, smoothing it out on the desk and peering at it through his half-moon glasses. He takes a few seconds as if intently studying the newspaper headline and accompanying headline though why he would need to Errol doesn't know. When he looks across the desk once more to where Ross Anderson is becoming increasingly irritated Professor Dumbledore responds, "You were not informed as the tragedy did not involve your nephew."
"You're sure of that?"
"Quite certain. Even if Errol had been in Hogsmeade, which he was not, he would not have had anything to do with what befell Ms. Batuti; therefore, I saw no reason to notify you."
"I see. And you have no doubt that the boy," Ross jerks a thumb at Errol, "was at school that entire time? No sneaking off campus?"
"Errol was at a flying and Quidditch workshop the entire day. Many will attest to that. The workshop had already ended when Ms. Batuti was killed but only a short time before and I personally saw Errol in the Great Hall only minutes before the tragedy in Hogsmeade."
Uncle Ross makes a sort of harrumphing sound, still not satisfied that he hadn't been contacted that another death had occurred within a mile of Errol but at least he's still not angrily bowed up. Professor Dumbledore politely inquires, "Is there anything else, Mr. Anderson?"
Ross glares again at Errol before replying, "No, I suppose not."
"Then as it is lunchtime and if you have no objection, I will send Errol on his way."
"Fine."
"Would you care to join us for lunch, Mr. Ross?"
"No," Ross curtly replies then as if remembering manners he adds, "Thank you." His goodbye to Errol is, "Stay out of trouble, boy."
"Yes, sir," Errol replies before saying, "Thank you, Professor," to the headmaster. He picks up the bookbag he'd deposited on the floor. Relieved to not be in trouble for something, he takes the stairs two at a time out of the office but then walks more slowly in the direction of the Great Hall, in no big rush to have roommate Hadrian Rabnott or others from Ancient Runes wanting to question him about why he got called from class.
Just Wondering
Author: Ethan Somerset
Date: 12-16-11 17:58
"You'll all be happy to know that next week we will start to use actual magic in class," Professor Somerset announced to his departing first years, who were too busy packing up their things to really hear his announcement. Done would be lessons in which he did most of the talking––about DADA in general, magical law enforcement, and other basic concepts all first years should know––at least until after Christmas.
The first years left moments later, allowing Ethan the chance to tidy up the classroom a bit. He did a quick job of it, as there was very little out of place to begin with. Then he slipped out of the room and went to the nursery to visit with his daughter.
Lilly was sleeping when he looked in on her. How she managed it, when some of the other children in the room were being rather rambunctious, Ethan didn't know. Their sleep habits were certainly different. Ethan was a light sleeper and woke up for even the faintest of noises.
Watching her now reminded him of last night, when he'd invited Maverick Pilot over to his duplex for pizza and beer. Although Ethan hadn't gotten drunk, he'd imbibed enough beer to end the night louder than he ought to have been with a sleeping baby in the house. Lilly, however, had slept soundly until well after Maverick had left for the evening.
It had been during their first round of drinks and pizza slices that Ethan had brought up a thought that had been at the back of his mind for a little while now. He and Maverick hadn't always been friends, but they were two of a kind. Both had been kidnapped by their Muggle families as young children and placed into the homes of loyal Voldemort supporters. Both had wound up serving the Dark Lord, Maverick perhaps a bit more faithfully than Ethan, though by no real choice of his own.
They also shared matching tattoos on their hands: the letter N from their time at the prison camp Brecqhou. Whereas many who had also been at Brecqhou had gotten their tattoos removed, Ethan and Maverick had kept theirs as a symbol of yet another obstacle they'd eventually overcome.
"Do you ever wonder if You-Know-Who still has control of you somehow, even though he's been dead all these years?" Ethan had asked Maverick.
Maverick had shown some surprise by the question, but he'd also not found it that far-fetched. "Honestly, no. Him being dead makes me feel free. But," he added, "that doesn't mean I really am. He was a powerful wizard in life. Whose to say he doesn't have power in death?"
"So you think it's possible?"
"I think it's unlikely." Maverick had gazed at Ethan with scrutiny, then. "Has something happened, Ethan? You're not hearing his voice again, are you?"
"No," Ethan had replied. "Nothing's happened. It's just that somebody else posed the same question to me and it got me thinking. I don't think it's very likely because he's dead. There's no denying that. There were witnesses. There was a body. His body."
"But he dabbled in the worst sort of magic, and who knows what legacy he's left behind."
"Exactly."
They'd fallen silent after that, mulling over deep, dark thoughts. Neither wanted to be subject again to anything Voldemort had put them through once upon a time.
It had been Ethan to finally break the ice. "Now I have you wondering about it."
Maverick had shrugged and shot him a lopsided grin. "Yes, but I'm not worried, and you shouldn't be either. Now tell me if any of your coworkers are attractive and single. I could use a good date."
From then on, the conversation had been light-hearted. All talk of Voldemort had been shelved for the time being.
Back in the present, Ethan watched Lilly sleep until his stomach let out a growl in protest. Sometimes Ethan ate lunch in the nursery, but he hadn't brought a sandwich with him today. Reluctantly, he left her crib to visit the Great Hall.