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(Mark) Focused
Author: Isolde
Date: 03-18-12 13:59
Following Professor Masterson's opening announcements––in which he'd welcomed everyone back to class, hoped they'd all had a nice holiday, and then outlined the topic to be covered in class this month––he lectured on the proper handling of poisonous plants in very general terms. Mark, feeling rather refreshed after time away from Hogwarts, gave his full attention to his instructor and took copious notes. The intense scratching of his quill on parchment distracted those immediately around him, but he didn't notice.
Mark didn't always pay close attention to his professors when they lectured. He'd always been the type to grow bored or distracted rather easily, feeling that there was something better he could be doing with his time besides sitting in class, listening to a subject he cared very little about. No doubt he'd fall back into his old habits sooner or later.
For now he felt focused, though. He knew that in less than half a year, he would be writing his O.W.L. examinations. Mark wasn't the sort to start studying now––he'd probably wait till the very last minute––but hopefully he'd have a decent set of notes from which to study when the time came.
His holiday had been quite nice, all things considered. Mark had almost dreaded going home for Christmas, believing that his parents would continually bring up Kate's name and question what he had ever seen in her. By some miracle, they'd left the topic quite alone. Perhaps it had helped that Mark and Kate had agreed not to write to each other over the holidays. They hadn't even sent each other Christmas gifts, having given them to each other in person prior to leaving school.
Mark had missed interacting with Kate, even if only by letter, but their time apart had made their eventual reunion all the better. He'd been a little sorry that they'd been unable to have a compartment all to themselves on the Hogwarts Express. His idea of making up for lost time would have included some talking and lots of snogging, the latter of which would have been awkward in front of the others. He'd certainly been pleased to see Gus, Johanna and Felicia again, even if Johanna seemed less than enthused with Gus at the moment.
By the time Herbology ended, Mark's hand hurt from all the writing he'd done. He put his supplies into his bag and pulled on his winter cloak. It was snowing outside and very cold. His feet sank into the fresh snow with every step he took and made the journey back to the castle take longer than it normally might. He kept his cloak on once inside the castle, because although it was warmer, it was still somewhat drafty and cool.
It was still early for lunchtime, so he went down to the dungeons with the intention of putting away his things and relaxing before the fire until Gus, Johanna and Felicia showed up after their next class. He had just missed them leaving Professor Weasley's Potions class. If he remembered their schedules correctly, they had History of Magic with Professor Davyd now.
He'd just come upon Professor Weasley's classroom when Blake emerged with a note in hand, probably to give to his next teacher to show he had an excuse for being late to class. The boys met eyes for a moment. Blake had given Mark Quidditch gear for Christmas as part of the Secret Santa gift exchange. Mark had appreciated the gift, if only for its usefulness, but he'd be damned if he'd say so to the Gryffindor fourth year.
Or at least the old Mark would have certainly acted that way. If Kate could hear his thoughts now, she probably wouldn't approve and would certainly remind him that there was hardly any difference between her and Blake. They were the same age, in the same year, and should have been in Mark's year. The only reason they weren't was because they'd both been sent to Happy Haven. Neither were purebloods.
Mark grumbled, "Thanks for the gift."
Blake looked surprised. "No problem."
They continued in opposite directions, Blake for whatever class he had next and Mark for the Slytherin common room.
(Beatrix) Winter Cold
Author: Griet
Date: 03-19-12 18:16
Beatrix wanted a nap. It didn't matter that it was evening and that bedtime would follow a few hours later. She felt tired, which she now knew was the result of an oncoming cold. Earlier, she'd been extremely parched, and no amount of drinking, whether it had been water, pumpkin juice or butterbeer, had seemed to soothe her dry throat. As the hours went on and the dryness continued, Beatrix came to the conclusion that she wasn't just extremely thirsty, she was getting sick.
She recognized the pattern. Her dry throat would become scratchy, then it would feel very sore. She'd get stuffy-headed and stuffy-nosed, and her nose would also begin to run. Along with the sinus troubles, her throat would constantly feel tickled, which would make her cough. She didn't usually experience chest congestion with her colds, but maybe this time she would.
She pulled herself from the armchair in the common room and prepared to go straight to bed, but Franciscus and Paton stopped her en route to the dormitory.
"Aren't you coming to the Great Hall?" her brother asked.
"I'm not very hungry," she said, "and mostly I just want to go to sleep." She wasn't yet sick enough to question why Franciscus cared. Although they were as close as a brother and sister could be, they didn't typically hang out together at school.
"Why?" she asked, looking from him to their cousin Paton.
"Just wondering," Franciscus answered.
He looked at Paton and said, "Let's go."
Beatrix watched them leave the common room. It was nice that they got along so well, though it probably certainly helped that they were the same age and roommates.
She turned back around and went to her room, where she found Sarah Edwards holding the clutch purse Rylee Marks had given Beatrix for Christmas.
Sarah looked like a deer in the headlights for a brief moment and stammered, "I was going to ask you if I could borrow it."
Beatrix nodded. "Sure," though she did wonder what for. There were few occasions for a third year student to need to carry around such an expensive purse. Beatrix didn't ask though. She climbed straight into her bed, not even bothering to kick off her shoes.
"You can borrow the pearls too, if you like," Beatrix called out, referring to the multi-colored strand she'd also received from Rylee for Christmas. Beatrix had worn them at New Year's Eve, even though she found them almost too precious to wear. She'd almost had her doubts about bring them back to Hogwarts with her, but she had in the end.
"Thanks!" Sarah said. She went to Beatrix's jewelry box and fished out the necklace, securing it around her neck. Then she scurried from the room, leaving Beatrix in peace.
Beatrix didn't fall asleep right away, and she did eventually kick off her shoes, but she didn't change into her pajamas. She fell asleep in her clothes and didn't even wake up when her roommates came back from supper.
In Need Of Another Vacation (Mason)
Author: Pyrrhus
Date: 03-19-12 18:50
Reaching for a still steaming dinner roll Mason gripes, "Two days back and I'm already tired of classes. At least there's Quidditch practice tonight."
Boris Samson yawns around a forkful of Battenberg cake* then says while chewing, "I wouldn't mind hibernating for a couple more days."
"Yeah. Why are you eating afters first?"
Boris shrugs. "'Cause I want to."
"Good enough reason. You done homework for tomorrow."
"Nearly. Have a little more to write for History, read Ancient Runes and Potions. You?"
"Have a little more for Transfiguration."
"You think if I ask Daisy to meet up with me next Hogsmeade weekend, she'd say yes?"
Mason's eyebrows go up. "Daisy Khan?"
"How many Daisy's do we both know?"
"Since when do you like her?"
"Dunno. Just sort of realized it. So, do you think she'd say yes?"
"Yeah, I guess. Don't see why she wouldn't. It's a long time to wait though."
"When's the next Hogsmeade weekend?"
"End of February I think."
"Maybe I'll ask her to meet up with me in the commons sometime then."
"There she is, go ask her now."
"Uhhhh," Boris not so subtly sniffs under each arm. "Maybe I'll wait until after I've showered."
Mason snickers and rolls his eyes, reaching to put more pot roast on his plate. "Ask her her to help you finish off your History assignment."
"That's a good idea. Thanks."
Mason grunts a you're welcome as he stuffs more food in his mouth, looking forward to when he can get out on the Quidditch pitch this evening even if it is fecking cold out and wishing it were already time for spring holiday.
*Battenberg cake is sponge cake made with a two by two checkered pattern, generally with alternating colors of pink and yellow. The squares of cake are traditionally joined with apricot jam and slices are cut so that the checkered pattern shows. The cake is generally covered with marzipan.
To The Point Of Illness
Author: Errol
Date: 03-20-12 15:10
Ross Anderson and Poppy Pomfrey are several feet from the end of Errol's bed but they are talking in such low voices he would have to make an obvious display of trying to hear what they are saying. Ever now and then the two adults glance or gesture his direction. The discussion looks intense but not heated and Errol absolutely hates they are doing it so near to him but not letting him in on what they are saying.
After what seems a dog's age to Errol but really isn't any more than ten or eleven minutes, Madam Pomfrey moves to check on another student in a bed further down the ward and Uncle Ross picks up a chair next to an empty bed and moves it beside Errol's. "The consensus is that you made yourself sick," Ross says without preamble.
"Huh?" Errol croaks, belatedly adding, "Sir?"
"Making yourself ill isn't going to change anything else."
"But I didn't."
"You did not deliberately make yourself sick?"
"No, sir."
Ross studies Errol for a few seconds then gives one barely perceptible nod. "Not deliberate then; but, you did make yourself sick, Errol. Hardly eating isn't healthy."
Errol keeps the surprise from his face that Uncle Ross actually believes him for a change. "I wouldn't be hungry so wouldn't think about eating." Errol doesn't see the point in explaining that even when he did think about going for a meal, he often didn't have the energy to bother.
"And didn't think about the consequences of that."
Errol opens his mouth to make a somewhat half hearted apology but Ross holds up a hand to stop him. "Save it." Ross looks down as if mulling over his next words, one hand absently flicking a speck of lint off his slacks. When he looks up again, his face is even more sternly set. "You are not to fall behind in your studies. When Madam Pomfrey releases you, you are to go to each of your professors and offer to do extra make up work. Unless you unavoidably catch something contagious or have a nasty fall, I don't expect to receive word again that you are lounging a hospital bed. You will make up the counseling session you have missed. Are we clear?"
"Yes, sir."
Ross stands to retrieve a bag he'd set at the foot of Errol's bed when he'd arrived. "I got you some OWL exam study books."
"Thank you."
His uncle places the three books on the tray by Errol's bed. After another several seconds long silence he says in a much softer tone than Errol's heard from him since everything last September. "I expect you to do well in your classes, Errol, but not to the point of illness. Be sure to get rest and sleep. Don't skip meals. Okay?"
"Yes, okay, Uncle Ross."
Ross gives another barely there nods then without a goodbye turns to go. Errol inexplicably feels suddenly close to tears. Rather than have anyone see him in case he does start crying, he burrows under the covers, pulling his pillow down to cover his head.
No Hiding Out
Author: Furnella Hodfuffer
Date: 03-20-12 17:59
From halfway down the stairs Phlagmelina calls out, "Are you down here, Furnie?"
"The office."
In the short space of time it takes Phlagmelina to descend the remaining stairs and walk the short way to the office I brace myself. Sure enough, no sooner has she reached the doorway then my sister takes a cross armed, stern mother stance. "You have got to stop hiding away down here and at home, Furnie."
"I'm working, not hiding. We've got that wedding reception on Sunday. I'm going over the menu double checking inventory and the liquor distributor made a mistake that needed to be fix asap."
Phlagmelina relaxes slightly moving to sit across the desk from me. "Still, you have been hiding away far too much lately. I understand why, we all do but shutting yourself off accomplishes nothing other than letting you continue to stew and steam."
Tossing the quill onto the parchment in front of me, I sit back exhaling loudly. "I know. I'm just so angry, hurt, and depressed that I want to lash out. I don't want to round on one of you simply because you're convenient."
She sympathetically asks, "Has any progress been made?"
"I spoke with Aspen last night and things were static. Forest's memory is still a massive blank."
"At least the woman has been identified."
"For all the good that's done. No one knows she where is."
"You think she's key to him regaining at least some, if not all, of his memories."
"I do. There's also finding out why she lied to him about their identities, about what happened to him."
"How is Forest handling all this?"
"He finds out the woman he thought was his wife is wanted by the British Ministry for crimes committed under the leadership of Euphemia Smythe-Jones. He's been told that he did not lose his memory in an explosion caused by an experimental spell and he's found out he's got parents and a sister that he did not know even exist. So, he's handling everything as well as could be expected. Forest is overwhelmed. As upset and angry as I am, I cannot even imagine the level of chaotic emotions he's experiencing."
We both go quiet, me leaning forward to pick up the quill. Phlagmelina gets up to go, saying softly as she does, "Whether we get answers or not and whether Forest ever regains his memories, the main thing is he's alive and healthy."
"That's what I keep telling myself."
"If you aren't upstairs during lunch rush, I'm going back down here."
I give her an exaggerated salute. "Yes, ma'am."
What Happened?
Author: Emerald Green
Date: 03-20-12 20:24
Jade drops her book satchel to the floor and takes a seat next to her brother. The Great Hall is warm so next she slips off the robe part of her uniform and pushes up the sleeves of her blouse. Next thing she knows Hunter has grabbed her right arm, turning it so her hand is palm up then turning it back over again. The bruise goes all the way around and in the worst spots her arm is puffy with swelling.
"What happened?"
"Quidditch practice last night then this morning I slipped and knocked it against the sink."
"You didn't say anything in Transfiguration. It's got to hurt like hell."
"Believe me, it does but Madam Pomfrey gave me some sort of cream to put on the swollen parts and a pain reliever potion to drink. They've helped a lot."
"You're a beater. You aren't supposed to get hit like that."
"It was just one of those things."
"You're sure it's not broken or cracked?"
"At first it sure felt like it but Madam Pomfrey said it's not, just badly bruised."
Hunter makes a face. "I'm glad it's not worse." He pauses a second then asks, "I don't suppose you'd mind finding out if Heather Rabnott likes me."
"She doesn't. She thinks you are a troll."
Hunter's shoulders droop. "Oh. Okay. Forget I said anything."
Jade grins. "I'm just jerking you around, you doofus. I think she does like you."
"Really? Cool. I think I'm going to ask her to study with me."
"Need advice on how to kiss her?"
"Geez. We're only going to study. Besides, what would you know about kissing? We're only twelve."
"You'd be surprised at what I know," Jade smiles enigmatically.
"You're jerking me around again, aren't you?"
Jade just smiles at him again then requests, "Pass the bowl of spaghetti, please."
A New Beginning
Author: Ronan Eastwick
Date: 03-21-12 18:36
Ronan's apartment in Tucson was located near downtown, on a short, straight street that Muggles tended to pass by without noticing. The street contained not only the apartment building, but a few establishments like a restaurant and clothing store, all of which catered to wizards. It wasn't exactly Diagon Alley, but it suited Ronan just fine.
He had started his new internship just after the New Year. So far, everything was going quite well. He worked four 10-hour shifts a week, with Wednesdays and weekends off. At first he'd worried that the long days would tire him out or leave him watching the clock, but Ronan's job moved at a fast-paced and always kept him entertained.
The marketing firm he interned at operated out of one of the high-rise buildings downtown. It consisted of the entire thirteenth floor, which no elevator reached, and for which there was no staircase landing. The entire level didn't exist for the Muggles, and they never wondered about it either.
The wizards got in via the Floo Network or through a manhole in an alley behind the building. When a wizard stepped on the manhole cover, it descended slowly underground, carried the wizard to what looked like a grate in the ceiling, and then propelled him through it, into a rather narrow chute that ran between the walls. The chute opened up into a lobby and deposited its passengers onto a mat on the floor.
Ronan had only entered the building that way once, and that had been quite enough.
It being Wednesday, Ronan had run some errands in the morning and had spent the rest of his time unpacking boxes. He'd done a little here and a little there since moving into the apartment, but for the most part he'd been living out of boxes and suitcases.
He used his wand to sever the Spellotape keeping one of the boxes shut and then set it on the kitchen counter. He started to open the box and unpack the items inside of it when there was a knock at his door.
Ronan went to answer it. He'd already met some of his neighbors, all of whom seemed very kind. A few of the women had brought him food.
The person standing on the other side of the door wasn't who he'd been expecting, but he couldn't have been happier to see her.
"Solange! What are you doing here?"
They kissed and she came inside. Ronan noted that she was carrying a small suitcase in one hand and had a duffle bag over her other shoulder.
"Well," she said, "I quit my job. And I had a long distance firetalk interview with the manager of the inn down the street. He offered me a job to run the front desk."
"The inn down the street… Here? In Tucson?"
Solange nodded and smiled. "Yes."
"You're really going to live here… with me?"
"If you'll still have me."
Ronan's eyes lit up. "Of course I will! I just can't believe it's worked out so quickly."
"I know." She dropped her bags onto the ground, and Ronan picked her up and swept her around in circles.
"I can't tell you how happy I am that you're here with me." He stopped spinning and kissed her again.
"Me too. I think this will be very good for us. This is a fresh start."
"A new beginning," Ronan echoed. He smiled at Solange, as happy as could be.