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Wednesday Morning
Author: Rylee
Date: 04-30-12 15:20
Yesterday had gone well, and she'd enjoyed dinner with Wesley and they had talked for a little while after the banquet. Wesley was cute and all, but she honestly did not think her parents would approve of her being involved with someone devoid of status - yes her parents could and would be that shallow. She'd worn her favorite dress robes: varying shades of dark green that descended into black at the hem, trimmed with silver. He'd given her a rose which she'd tucked into her updo and there had been tendrils curled around her features.
They had danced; they ate and indulged perhaps a bit too much in the decadent sweets that had been provided by the ever talented house-elves. He'd even walked her back to the dungeon entrance to Slytherin house before bidding her good night before nine-thirty. It had been something different for Rylee and she delighted in it, relished in it and didn't let the whispers and rumors that she'd paid the boy to come to the Banquet with her – though anyone who had been in Potions with her the day Wesley had asked her would know the truth of the rumor – though she doubted they would believe that it had been all Wesley's idea to ask her.
At the moment she stood in front of her full-length mirror and sighed. She was still in her pajamas and hadn't bothered to get dressed or go down for breakfast which was a rarity in and of itself, and now she was debating on skipping class. She wasn't ill, she wasn't even remotely over-worked considering she was only a first year and didn't have the stresses of O.W.Ls or N.E.W.Ts to make her bonkers this time of year – she was just tired. Perhaps she was getting sick, or it was just that she was tired of listening to the mutterings and rumors circulating that she was little more than a stuck up snob. Well, she was, but that was beside the point.
In the end she ended up getting dressed in her school uniform, accenting it with a pair of emerald earrings and bracelet set, pulling her hair up in a slightly messy, yet stylish ponytail she slipped her feet into her heels and grabbed her leather messenger bag and headed out of Slytherin house and toward Transfiguration. Her mood lightened as she headed out of Transfiguration and back to the dungeon for potions – one of her favorite classes.
(Fallon) Secret Life
Author: Arlington J Montgomery
Date: 04-30-12 16:56
Fallon sat awake in bed. It was 3AM and she couldn't sleep. She had been keeping to herself for months now, and she had flat out refused to see her brother.
In all honesty, she was afraid. Afraid to let him know the truth. The siblings had been through a lot in the last few years, but Fallon didn't know how to tell Arley her secrets. What if he judged her? What if he was angry that she hid for so long?
The brunette ran a hand through her hair and sighed "I gotta find a way to tell 'em. They'll understand, 'least I hope they will."
A sleepy voice mumbled from the other side of the bed "Who are you talking to Faly? You need to get some rest."
Fal smilled a little "I know. Go back to sleep hun, I need to send a letter to some friends." Fallon quietly slipped out of bed and made her way to the kitchen. After fixing a pot of tea, she pulled out her paper and decided to write Arlington and Sebastian's friend Bronwyn. Maybe she could help Fal break the news to her family.
Howdy Bronwyn,
I hope all is well with you (Toby too!) I need some help with something. I'm sure Arley's been desperate to hear from me. I just didn't know how to tell him.
Would you like to meet up for lunch oneday? I'd like to have another woman to chat with. I could really use your advise. You see...I kinda got married...to Fletcher Morgan. He was a chaser with me on the Stonewall Stormers. In fact he's still playing with the Stormers (a star player I think ;) ) I'm sure Toby knows him!
Anyways, that's a kinda' a long story, and one of the reasons we should talk. Let me know when you'd like to meet, I can't wait to catch up!
Talk to ya soon,
Fallon M.
Time Warp
Author: Rowan Westwick
Date: 04-30-12 18:39
The space between the two buildings could hardly be called an alleyway. It ended in a point where the corners of the buildings met, and contained a single waste bin near the entrance. A girl crouched behind the bin and clutched a small doll in one of her hands.
Last night, after fleeing Borgin & Burkes, she set out for Diagon Alley and the Leaky Cauldron, where she hoped to floo home––if she even had a home anymore. She did not get very far in Diagon Alley when it occurred to her that attempting to go home might be a very big mistake. There was also something different about Diagon Alley, but she couldn't quite pinpoint it in the dark.
Instead, she retreated to Knockturn Alley and found her hiding spot in the narrow triangle between what looked like a petstore specializing in reptiles and another business she couldn't identify. All night, she shivered from the cold and from fear––fear of not knowing what to do, and fear of discovery. She also feared rats, but they seemed to avoid the narrow space, probably sensing the snakes that lived next door.
She hardly slept all night and when dawn broke the next morning, she felt hungry but no less scared. She watched as Knockturn Alley came to life. Business owners unlocked their shoppes, including Mr. Borgin, who found his establishment in shambles but dared not contact the authorities on account of his disreputable dealings. Street vendors set up stalls here and there, laying out their wares and trinkets for all to see. Witches and wizards went about their daily business, unaware of the girl behind the rubbish bin.
From her vantage point, which only had a limited view, the girl noted a few things. First, there were more and different stores from her last visit to Knockturn Alley. Some of the old staples were there, like Borgin and Burkes, but there were others she didn't recognize. Second, although wizardwear didn't change much over the decades or even centuries, Mugglewear certainly did. Most of the witches and wizards she observed wore robes but a few wore trousers that were different in style than she was used to seeing.
Finally, although she saw some unsavory characters, as was expected in a place like Knockturn Alley, nobody looked particular nervous. No one looked over his or her shoulder as if life depended upon it. In a word, everyone the girl noticed looked happy.
She wondered how much time had passed since her family's unfortunate run-in with Antonin Dolohov. The girl unclasped her hand and looked at the little doll in her palm. The smaller of the cuts she'd sustained from the broken glass yesterday were scabs today, but some of the larger ones oozed a bit. The little doll was marred with bloodstains.
Suddenly, something fell over the mouth of the waste bin and landed on the girl's head. She winced, although the thing that had struck her was soft. It bounced onto the ground near her feet. In the shadows, she could make out that it was a half-eaten pastry. She picked it up, brushed dirt from it as best she could, and then ate it.
A short while later, somebody tossed the Daily Prophet onto the bin. It landed half in, half out. The girl retrieved it, hoping to get some news about what had happened since Dolohov's visit to the family home. What she got instead was the greatest shock of her life.
She looked at the date on the newspaper.
"February 15, 2006?????"
She scrambled to her feet and in her haste knocked the waste bin over, so that rubbish littered the street. The girl emerged from her hiding spot, no longer caring about being noticed. She looked around wildly and then seized a newspaper from a passing wizard.
"What do you think you're doing?" he exclaimed, but rather than reply she handed him back the newspaper. It had the same date on it. Every single copy she looked at did.
She couldn't believe it. She had spent her life as a doll much like the one in her hand for over 25 years.
Aunt Bridgette
Author: Meghan Ryan
Date: 05-01-12 14:36
Meghan was quickly becoming irritated as her Aunt Bridgette tore her away from the guys she was busy flirting with. Her aunt had her help her with some groceries, a little task that she believed that she was above. It would be their last night in Anglesey for a while; they would leave for Hogwarts in the morning. And in considering such, her mother and aunt planned on making another large meal. It would also likely be their last time together as a family until Christmas. The closest family members are together in Anglesey with the girls and their parents along with Aunt Bridgette and her children Henrietta, Jennifer, George and Richard. The only one who was missing was Aunt Bridgette's husband, John, who was away on business.
"You have a boyfriend." Aunt Bridgette pointed out under her breath as they walked up to the house.
Meghan stopped from behind her briefly and huffed as quietly as she could. She got a hold of herself and continued to follow her aunt up the porch. They were currently the only two home, them both just arriving, and so Aunt Bridgette had to shuffle the bags of groceries around in her arms to get her keys and unlock the front door.
They entered the house and Meghan hurried to the kitchen and placed the bags on the counter by the fridge. She hurried herself as she put them away so she could return outside to her little endeavors. With all her bustling, she knocked off a picture off the fridge's door.
She bent down to pick it up and smiled at the memory it held. It was when the Ryan family went to visit Stonehenge for their birthday. She put the picture back and turned to her aunt when she came in and also began to put the groceries away.
"Do you have studying to do?" Aunt Bridgette asked as she finished with the last items. She grabbed a glass from the wooden shelf above the sink and poured herself a glass.
Meghan thought about it for a minute before replying. "No."
"Good. I need your help." Aunt Bridgette said as she took the glass to her lips.
"What do you need my help for?" Meghan asked shocked that anyone would ask for her help. No one asked for her help unless it was for an assignment at school. If anyone ever needed help, they would have to see Courtney or Alyssa. They were the helping type and Meghan wasn't.
Visitor to Saint-Tropez
Author: Lucius Malfoy
Date: 05-01-12 20:33
Before taking a seat in a high backed wing chair, Lucius sweeps a hand, palm in the direction of the wet bar. "Brandy? Or would you prefer something else? Tea, or perhaps coffee. I've also a very nice, thirty year old cognac."
"A finger of cognac, please."
Accepting the drink, the visitor settles back in the twin of the one Lucius is now seated upon. "Thank you for seeing me without notice, Lucius. I hope I'm not disturbing time with your daughter."
"Carina is so worn out from the wedding activities of the past several days that she is already fast asleep."
"Ah, yes. Draco was married yesterday. How was the wedding?"
"Tasteful, elegant, Asteria looked lovely and my son appeared quite happy. The only way it would have been improved if is Narcissa had been with us." Lucius does not mention that he's somewhat torn about that sentiment. If Narcissa were still living, Carina would not have been born.
"Where have they gone for honeymoon?"
"They are spending a few days at one of those African savannah lodges, then will cruise the Caribbean in a private yacht."
Lucius takes a sip of the plum brandy he'd chosen, savorying the flavor, idly swirling the liquid remaining in the snifter, waiting for his guest to get to the reason for showing up on Lucius's doorstep minutes before. The visitor enjoys a little of the cognac before doing just that.
"Some of us are regrouping. We think you should join us. Lead us, actually."
"To what purpose?"
"A purebloods only British Wizarding community, of course."
"That was tried to disastrous effect."
"Smythe-Jones handled it all badly. Once she was rid of Dumbledore, she moved too quickly, making sweeping changes."
"By doing so, she showed that the British Wizarding community cannot fully function without the bulk of its workforce, and her actions also brought forth the excellent question of what constitutes a pureblood? How far removed from any dilution of blood must someone be?"
"The pureblood question is most certainly an issue in need of further discussion. There are some who still believe Smythe-Jones was right in her actions despite some missteps of execution. Most of us are now of a mind that mudbloods and half-breeds have a place, though not alongside us. For example, they have their own school, separate from Hogwarts."
Lucius smiles thinly as he somewhat drolly remarks, "I believe Happy Haven School For Nons is available as a name."
"A real school, not a prison masquerading as one. Purebloods in the top tiers of the Ministry. The others would hold lower jobs."
"After two wars led by Voldemort followed by Smythe-Jones's little experiment, even if the world were once more rid of Albus Dumbledore, do you really think the British community is going to sit back and let pureblood superiority create a class system?"
"With enough power on our side, we would prevail. Over time, those who disagreed with the policies would move from Britain, polluting the bloodlines of other countries, leaving us to a tiered system with purebloods at the top."
"There is the little matter of me being wanted in Britain for my role as governor of the City of Hope community."
"You do not need to be in Britain while we plan. When it is necessary, you are skilled at remaining hidden from the Ministry. There is one thing, Lucius. With Bellatrix's extreme views and penchant for needless, somewhat bloody, violence, thinking is that she should not be part of the initial planning and strategy."
"I will consider what you've said and what you are asking."
The visitor leans forward, placing the now empty glass on the coffee table. Rising, hand extended, Lucius is given an approving nod. "Thank you. I will contact you in another week or two to talk further."
After the visitor is shown out Lucius adds a dollop more of brandy to his snifter then retires to the back patio to enjoy a balmy evening, the surf providing pleasant background noise as he contemplates this evening's conversation.
Presents!
Author: Mildred
Date: 05-02-12 08:47
Mildred woke up surrounded by all the girls of her dorm. For a moment she was a little bit confused but then she realized today was her birthday and the reason they were all still in her pajamas and nightgowns was because they wanted to wish her a happy birthday. Queenie was using her wand to produce multicolored sparks around Mildred's head, while Amelia was holding a present. Melpomene was grinning, showing all the corners of her bracers. In her hands there was a plate with a small cupcake and a candle. They sang 'happy birthday' to Mildred and she blew up the candle with a smile. Queenie said she wanted to lit the candle with her wand, but Melpomene had forbid her, saying she didn't want Queenie to burn the curtains of her bed by mistake.
"Open your present Mildred!" Amelia said, handing the gift to her. "We all contributed, including Wesley. But Achilles has a gift of his own to you."
"Hush Amelia! That was supposed to be a surprise he was arranging." Melpomene said. She was the bossiest girl Mildred had ever met but she had a good heart.
She thanked her friends, really surprised they had prepared everything on her back. She opened the colorful package and found inside a large box of chocolate frogs and a set of magic markers.
"They are great! Your draws become animated. We can have a lot of fun in classes with them," Queenie explained and to demonstrated she picked up a brown marker and drew a dog in the palm of her hand. Soon it started to move.
Mildred thanked them before Melpomene could start lecturing Queenie about how she should paying attention to classes instead of playing with Mildred's new markers. The little witch, not so little anymore with her twelve years old, shared the cupcake with her friends and then they all started to dress for the day. Only then Mildred realized this was her first birthday without her mother. Sadness started taking over her as she put on her red and gold tie. Once fully dressed and her hair combed she picked up the locket Coach Krum gave her for Christmas. Mildred opened it, contemplated her mother's photograph, closed it and then she put it on her neck.
But the sad thoughts went away when she arrived to the Great Hall and saw Achilles waiting there for her with another gift for her. He offered her a wizarding chess set.
"Now you have your own set and maybe later we can play some chess together, what do you think?"
Mildred agreed, thanking him for the wonderful gift. But the surprises did not end there. She was expecting a letter from her father but she didn't predict the card her grandmother sent her. It was written in a very dry and rushed handwriting but still she wished Mildred a happy birthday. Mildred knew she had to write to her and thank her. She didn't want to but she knew it would be polite. She also had to write to her father telling he didn't need to worry about owing her a birthday present. Mildred didn't want presents from him. She just wanted him to do his time at Azkaban and leave that awful place.
Mildred was finishing her toast when a late owl crossed the Great Hall and landed in front of her. At first she looked around wondering if it belonged to another student but the bird looked at her with impatience and once Mildred removed the envelope tied to it, it flew away. She studied the envelope carefully. Her name was written in the center, but that was all. Carefully she opened it. Inside there was a hairpin and a small scroll. Mildred read the scroll first, putting the hairpin aside.
Dear Mildred,
I wish you a happy birthday!
The last time I saw you, you were ten. I cannot wait to see you again, I am sure you have turned into a beautiful young lady. I promise we will meet again very soon. Meanwhile just keep focusing in your studies but don't focus too much or you will melt your brain.
Your aunt,
Helen
Ps - I hope you like the gift.
"Come on Mildred, or we will be later for Transfiguration!" Amelia called out.
Mildred put the letter and the hairpin inside her pocked and followed her friends to class. No matter how she tried it was hard to hear what Professor Black was teaching. She had her mind in her aunt and she wondered if Mr. Northman had been able to contact her and tell her about her mother's will. And what did her aunt mean by meeting her very soon? There was only one answer for that: the Parents Weekend. She knew her father couldn't come and of course her grandmother wouldn't bother to show up but perhaps her aunt would. Now, like every other student Mildred was looking forward to Saturday!
She took the hairpin from her pocket and put it on her desk. It had a flower shape with red and golden petals, Gryffindor's colors. Mildred smiled happy. After a while she was finally able to pay attention to class.
Doxies and Doxycide
Author: Jolyon
Date: 05-03-12 16:00
Professor Kent stood before his fifth year students and asked, "Has anybody ever had an infestation of doxies at home?"
A few of the wizarding children raised their hands or nodded.
"And did you help remove the infestation from your home, or do you know how it is done?"
Mark Farnon replied, "You use doxycide on them."
"And what is doxycide?"
"Well," Mark began, "it's not a poison because it doesn't kill them. It just immobilizes them for a while so that you can toss them out and not worry about getting your fingers bitten off."
"That's exactly right. Take 5 points for Slytherin. Doxycide has a paralyzing agent, but it only has temporary effects. It's meant to help you get the job done without harming doxies."
"If they infest homes, then they must be pests," Cecilia Middleton stated. "Why don't we want to kill them and risk their return?"
"That's a good question," Professor Kent said. "Pests are often killed rather than saved because they don't seem to have any value, do they? Many pests are virtually harmless, too, but not doxies. They are venomous and if you are bitten, then you need to take the antidote immediately. Now to answer your question, Cecilia. As a lover of all creatures, I would rather save them than kill them, but that's just me personally. As to why we universally use doxycide instead of an actual poison against doxies, I couldn't tell you. Perhaps this should be the subject of an extra credit assignment. Take three points, Cecilia, for asking the question," he added.
"Professor? What's that?" Hunter Rabnott asked.
He was pointing at a chest in the middle of the barn floor. It looked old and a bit battered, and what looked like a slip of faded cloth protruded from the lip of the closed lid.
"That is something Professor Dumbledore dug out of an unused classroom, which has turned into one of many storage spaces. It's full of old draperies and some bedsheets and has stood open for many years, if the layer of dust is anything by which to judge. I've closed it for the moment so that our friends who are living within the folds of the material don't unexpectedly leave or cause problems for us until we are ready to handle them. In the meantime, I would like to talk more about doxies. What they look like, how they live, and everything else you will need to know come exam time."
He went on to describe the creatures, which they would see firsthand in a few minutes.
Late Night Peeves Attack
Author: Karma Davyd
Date: 05-03-12 16:17
It was nearly midnight by the time she popped into appearance in Hogsmeade, and she was exhausted. Having been up since early this morning for her usual routine and then teaching classes and then her own classes at St. Emrys and then she had to meet with her Dad who was in Paris for the week for something business related. Now, she was finally back in the village and all she wanted to do was curl up in bed after a long shower.
Sliding a hand through her hair she moved quickly onto the grounds and into the castle and ultimately up to her quarters on the forth floor. Movement out of the corner of her eye caught her attention, and she turned setting gaze upon Peeves hovering at the end of the corridor. This had the potential of not ending well at all, and she was seriously not in the mood to deal with the mischievous ghost.
"Good night Peeves..." She said with a wave to the ghost at the end of the hallway, and tried to push open her door, it wouldn't move. Heaving a sigh she would push again, knowing well that the ghost was up to something mischievous and she was his intended target.
His cackle filtered up the hallway and within moments the door gave way and Karma went tumbling into the room, landing in what could only be described as a child's wading pool filled with emerald paint. Her messenger bag's contents was slightly spilled into the green lake staining books and parchments alike. "Bloody hell."
However, those could be cleaned a bit easier than it would be to clean the cream colored pencil skirt and blazer she was wearing when she'd gone into the paint. "PEEVES!"
However, the ghost had found his fun and was now off to perhaps torment the other ghosts or perhaps Filch if the grounds keeper could be found. Sighing, she called a house elf to rid her room of the pool and cleaned herself off as much as she could with a flick of her wand. She was never good at cleaning spells and it showed as green splotches remained all over the tailored suit.
She lifted a hand and slid it through her hair, only realizing too late that she had green paint all over it and her hair now held some of the green stripes. Muttering, she tossed her messenger bag into an empty box - so as to not get paint on any of the furniture and headed to the bathroom, she needed a shower desperately now, and needed to get the green paint out of her hair.
It was nearly three am before she crawled into bed. There would be no early morning wake up tomorrow, she intended on sleeping in since her first class didn't meet until nine. She'd also probably have a pepper-up potion to survive the lengthy day she had ahead of her because she had two language labs after she'd finished teaching five classes.