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The Muggle Way
Author: Nathaniel Ross
Date: 12-17-12 02:10
"Ah! Here you are, Mr. Ross," Gilbert Higgins greeted with a smile.
Nate looked to the man that would be his boss. Mr. Higgins was a middle aged man with a short nose and deep blue eyes. His hair had seen better days and according to a magazine article cut and pinned behind his desk in a cardboard it seemed that he was very interested in a shampoo by a Muggle brand called L'Oreal that prevent hair loss.
But the thing that labeled Mr. Higgins as a true Muggle fan was not the red telephone on his desk, nor what it seemed to be a collection of Duracell batteries displayed on a shelf, but his Muggle clothes. Nate had enough contact with the Muggle world to be sure the red shirt Mr. Higgins was wearing would only be used by women. But of course he was not going to be the one telling that to his chief, on the first day of work. It was clear that Mr. Higgins was very proud of his outfit by the way he kept adjusting his shirt when it seemed that no one was looking. But he caught Nate's eyes and instead of being offended he asked:
"Do you like it Mr. Ross? The fabric is amazing! I got it in a Muggle store a few blocks away. I believe they have your size."
Nate gave Mr. Higgins a smile, and he thanked Merlin the matter of the shirt was dropped and they started to talk about work. With an Outstanding in his Muggle Studies NEWT, Nate had been admitted right away in the Muggle Liaisons office of the Ministry of Magic. Since he just got out of school he would only work as an assistant but his father had guaranteed him that if he worked hard enough soon he would raise rank.
"Here in my office we do things the Muggle way whenever we can. You see, I believe that to understand Muggles we not only have to know about all the aspects of their lives but we also need to know how they think. And so I thought: what a better way to know how Muggles think if not incorporate the way they live in my office? So everything here is done without wands. So if you would be so kind to whenever you enter this office put your wand in that table…"
Nate's gaze followed Mr. Higgins' finger and noticed a mahogany table filled with a considerable number of wands. However he could not help to realize that his boss was an exception to his own rule as he was using his wand to conjure a cup with hot coffee and a plate of sugary donuts. His face probably cheated his incredulous feelings because Mr. Higgins quickly excused himself muttering something about a problem of arthritis in his hands and how his wife demanded him to be careful. Nate doubted that Mr. Higgins always followed his wife's instructions carefully because he just added a large amount of cream to his coffee and he should probably be careful with his line. He was not particularly thin.
"Just be sure you don't take home the wrong wand at the end of the day. Dilys Philpotts took Frances Zeller's wand by mistake and it was a disaster. Frogs started to rain in her neighborhood when she tried to bake a cake for her children. We were up all night trying to deal with the situation, removing the frogs and erasing everyone's memories. However if you go to Richmond you will perhaps noticed that the pound in the park is the address to many frogs. We just couldn't suppress them all. But the Muggle children love them, so no harm done."
Nate was eager for a chance to deal with Muggles and work in first hand with them but as the day passed he realized the only interaction he would have was to go to the Starbucks near the Ministry of Magic and buy food and coffee to everyone. It seemed that only Mr. Higgins was allowed to conjure his own food and since everything would have to be done the Muggle way, it was up to Nate to run to the coffee shop as many times as needed.
The use of quill was denied to him and he had to use a pen. Mr. Higgins had a huge collection of Muggle office's supply but they seemed to belong to the XIX century and they weren't very effective. When Nate showed him what a Bic pen was, Mr. Higgins declared him a genius and by the end of the day there was woman's shirt with little yellow flowers at his desk.
Nate picked the shirt embarrassed, trying to hide it under his robes, and picked his wand from the table, double checking it was his, just in case. He didn't want frogs invading Tolpuddle.
"Great job today, Mr. Ross," Mr. Higgins complimented him, on the elevator on their way out. "Don't forget to wear your new shirt tomorrow," he said with a wink.
An Advice
Author: Johanna Steele
Date: 12-17-12 06:33
Johanna was at the Great Hall, seated at the Slytherin table, having breakfast. There weren't many students there yet, since it was still early in the morning. Johanna ate her porridge calmly thinking about today's classes. She wasn't looking forward to have Transfiguration and its vanishing spells, but on another hand she just wanted to get over with it so she could have History of Magic and learn the details of the exciting battle of Cavour.
Her thoughts were in the two factions of giants fighting against each other when someone tapped her shoulder making her turn.
"I want my money like promised," Roger Gesner demanded in front of her.
Johanna watched her ex-boyfriend carefully. His sandy colored hair was combed in perfection and she could swear he had polished his prefect badge, because it seemed to shine more than usual. Maybe he has cast a spell on it.
"I'm not going to give you anything, because you didn't do what we agreed," she told him, putting her plate with her breakfast aside.
"I kissed Polly Potts like you asked and risked my relationship with my girlfriend. Joanna leaves the Hospital Wing today and if she hears a word about what happened during Club Day I'm doomed."
"I asked you to kiss her while Gus was looking. Not when he got his face covered with the smelly Gobstones liquid and was cleaning it with a towel!"
"It's not my fault he wasn't looking. I did what you wanted and so I want my money."
"I'll give you half of what we agreed for the effort. And don't worry about your girlfriend. You know Polly's reputation, you can just say she pushed you against the wall and tried to have her way with you."
Roger accepted Johanna's offer and he told her to give him the money later today when the fifth year Slytherin and Ravenclaw would get together for the History of Magic class. He also demanded to check her class notes, and she accepted his request, happy he didn't try and fight to get the rest of the money she had promised him. They said goodbye and Johanna turned her head back to her breakfast.
However a moment later Roger was back. He took a seat next to her on the long bench, ignoring the eyes of two other Slytherin students who clearly didn't thought it was a good idea for a Ravenclaw to sit at their table. However the Great Hall was practically deserted and so they returned to their conversation and left Roger in peace.
"There is something I don't understand: Why do you try so hard to make Gus see who Polly really is? I heard you talking about it the other day in a class as well. It's like you're consumed by this and you won't give up until he realizes his girlfriend his cheating on him."
"And you're concerned with that because…?"
"Because I don't think you should waste any more time with that. I mean you're his friend and you warned him. If he doesn't want to listen to you it's his problem not yours. You are wasting your time and energy in these schemes and arguments when you could be busy with something else. Like study for the OWLs, for example. I always thought it was your ambition to have good grades and I'm sure you don't want to regret all the time you spent worried with Van Tassel when you could be studying. Just ask yourself: is he really worthy of all your efforts? He's a big boy he can take care of himself. You shouldn't worry too much. But it's just an advice. You do what you want, of course."
He looked at his watch "I better get going. I need to fetch Joanna from the Hospital Wing. I still don't get how she forgot about the fake step on the staircase and twisted her ankle on it. See you later. Don't forget my money!"
"I won't, " Johanna assured Roger as she watched him walking away.
She stayed in the Slytherin table a few more minutes, wondering if she should follow Roger's advice or not. In a way she still wanted Gus to know what Polly did behind his back. She wanted him to break up with Polly and eventually who knows, date her. But on the other hand she was tired of her efforts that never seem to come with any result. Gus didn't believe her, he thought she was lying. She felt it was time to give up on this quest and let Gus deal with it the way he wanted while she would move on with her life.
(Anton) Blood-Traitors and Nouveau Riche
Author: Roger Bexley
Date: 12-17-12 21:44
Anton idly fingered a chess piece from the set on the side table. He was seated in a deep, leather armchair, staring at the open Charms textbook in his lap. The three first years had been crowded into a corner of the Common Room. Petula and Valeria were sharing a small love seat opposite, both absorbed in a new copy of Teen Witch Weekly.
He sighed in exaggerated frustration. "So what is in that thing that keeps you two fascinated for hours?"
"Sparkly brooms," Petula said, earning an eye roll from Valeria as she held up the picture.
"Gemstone encrusted broomsticks. They did a whole spread with the Harpies posing on broomsticks in high fashion. I'm wondering if I could talk Uncle Kirley into one for Christmas," Valeria said, eyes dancing with mischief. She shot a pointed glance toward another part of the common room, knowing Anton would pick up on what she was up to.
Anton raised a brow, smirking. "I've heard our new seeker prefers Muggle designers." He felt a little ill at the thought of all the nasty tack that must have inhabited her trunk.
"Ugh, really?" Petula asked.
Valeria smirked. "I heard that as well. Pity. I mean, it's admirable what they manage without magic, but to actually prefer those things? Ugh."
"My parents always had their suspicions about the Marks," Anton muttered. "Blood-traitors, the lot of them. I bet they have investments in Muggle finances, too."
"Grandmother wrinkles her nose and says they're 'nouveau riche' which is usually followed by examples of why it is wrong to indulge in tasteless displays of wealth," Valeria said, moving over to make room for Anton on the loveseat.
Anton accepted the unspoken invitation without even thinking. He sandwiched himself between the girls. "I have a dreadful feeling we're going to lose the Cup because of her," he muttered.
"Hopefully not. Quidditch Cup is possible, but with any luck we can find a way to keep the House Cup," Petula said.
"Wonder if she'll show up at the first match with one of these fancy brooms?" Valeria muttered. "It would be a definite way to show off."
"Hope she doesn't break a nail during the game," Anton said snakily. "We'd be lost for sure."
Valeria stifled a catty giggle as her silver kitten jumped into her lap. "Or if she and what's-his-name have a fight before the game, she'll never see the snitch."
"She'd probably be too busy blubbering in the girls' bathroom to show up." Anton rubbed Merope between the ears.
Valeria smirked as Merope purred and bumped her head against Anton's hand. Petula shook her head. "Only if Val doesn't spot her there and chase her to the Pitch when some well-placed hexes," the brunette muttered.
"Or seize her broom and go play herself." Anton laughed.
"Seeker's too tame for me, and Pet's much better at spotting shiny gold things, I'd send her up," Valeria said, glancing over at her cousin.
"You'd probably have made the team as beater, if you'd tried out," Anton said, casually. "Personally, I wouldn't trust you with a blunt object in the heat of the game, though." He grinned mischievously.
"I thought about it, but really, who wants to be the first year who makes the team? Can't you just hear the letters from home? Uncle Kirley would be thrilled but Grandmother? She'd send a Howler," the blonde said. "Besides, I'd stick with aiming for the other team. Wouldn't do much good to take out my teammates."
Anton grinned as Merope purred gratefully against his school robes. "I think we should all try out next year."
"Sounds like a plan to me. Gives us time to get Petula more comfortable on a broom," Valeria said.
Petula shook her head. "Fine, where are you two going to try for then? I know Val's bloodthirsty enough to be a beater, but her size might make her a better chaser."
"Size doesn't always matter," Anton said, shrugging. "And if you're fast enough, Pet, you might be a good chaser."
"We'll see after I'm a bit more confident on a broom," the brunette muttered as a wicked smirk crossed Valeria's face. Merope paused her purring when the blonde's hand stilled on her back.
Let Them Talk
Author: Rylee
Date: 12-18-12 02:02
To say I was irritated was above and beyond the truth. They continued to talk, they continued to mutter and curse under their breath because I'd made the team after only actually playing Quidditch for a handful of months and I'd made seeker none the less.
I knew I wasn't liked, I knew that I was talked about and quite frankly I couldn't give a good god damn any more. I would prove to them that I'd earned my spot on the team, I would prove to them that I could help Slytherin keep the Cup. So what, I was a second year, at least I wasn't a first year who was too afraid to try at least try. I had courage enough to step outside of my comfort zone and not be the pretty, pampered witch that I'd come in as.
With Gideon's help I'd managed to improve leaps and bounds over the summer and now I was going to prove it. I wasn't by any means the best, and everyone in Slytherin was probably going to blame me for each and every single loss that incurred no matter what I did, but quite frankly let them. I was going to enjoy my time here as much as anyone else.
As it was, I was already practicing a little extra each day. Running drills both on and off the ground, and working with Gideon, who was pushing me hard knowing that I had to fill the shoes of Cornelia Vanderbilt and help continue to bring victory to Slytherin.
I worked from after my last class till dinner, and then for a little while before practice if Slytherin had the pitch, and on free days if I could get permission from Coach Krum. But otherwise I would run the ground drills on the grounds near the pitch.
By the time seven-thirty rolled around, I was sweaty and exhausted, and I called it quits for the night. Gideon and I walked back to the castle and to the Common room where we parted ways. Me to a shower, and him to his room to grab his homework that we'd work on until about nine-thirty or ten before heading to bed.
Investigations (Ravenscrofte Rare and Antiquarian Books, Knockturn Alley)
Author: Cassandra Catesby
Date: 12-18-12 05:57
Cassandra had closed up Ravenscrofte Rare and Antiquarian Books at the end of the day and retired to the cosy flat above the bookstore. Sapphire-blue flames flickered in the hearth. Cassandra sat in the over-stuffed armchair beside it, Malantha curled up by her feet.
It wasn't easy to track the Book of the Dark Mirror. As Omar had warned her, the papyrus had passed secretively from owner to owner, bypassing the usual channels. However, there were some clues. Rumours did surface from time to time and if one assumed that there was no smoke without fire, it was possible to follow the trail of breadcrumbs.
For generations, the papyrus appeared to remain in Egypt. The first hint she had of it outside of it's country of origin was after the Romans subsumed Egypt within their Empire. Rumours of a papyrus scroll linked to the arts of divination apparently being brought out of Egypt by a Roman wizard matched up nicely with later rumours about such a scroll being in Italy.
Picking up her quill, she took a scrap of parchment and wrote down the name Spurius Curius Papiria. She drew an emphatic line under the cognomen Papiria. Under the circumstances, the choice was interesting, especially since it didn't appear to occur in the gens before, but did then appear repeatedly down the generations; she had also uncovered an Aurelius Curius Papiria and a Domitius Curius Papiria.
Then the trail appeared to go cold for several centuries. During the Renaissance, rumours appeared once again, but that was where her problems started. Two definite possibilities appeared, one in Florence, the other in Venice, but there was also a third somewhat more dubious possibility in Milan. The overlap was such that they couldn't all own the papyrus. So which one did? If she could figure that out, maybe she could establish which of the more recent rumours held an element of truth.
"You know, Malantha, as much as I love books, there are times when nothing other than good old-fashioned fieldwork will do," she said, the black cat at her feet looking up as she spoke.
Cassandra set her quill aside and stood up. Taking her cloak from the coat-rack, she swirled it about her shoulders, pulled up the hood and then disapparated with a soft *pop*.
Forcing A Conversation
Author: Harry Potter
Date: 12-18-12 19:05
Towards the end of his Monday shift Harry made his way to the Minister of Magic's office. Ever since the conversation with Ginny in which he'd told her he might see if Kingsley would let him have access to Peter Pettigrew, he's not been able to speak with the man. He's tried but Shacklebolt has made himself unavailable to give Harry even two minutes of his time, probably thinking Harry's going to be a pest again about THE case and doesn't want to have to follow through on his threat to lock Harry away for asking again.
Frustrated still at being shut out of The case and annoyed that Kingsley is making presumptions Harry is determined to get at least half a minute with the Minister today. He knows Kingsley had a late meeting and is still here. Harry plans to take up a post outside the conference room and wait for Kingsley to emerge even if it takes a few hours. He will pounce the second the Minister appears and demand to be heard.
Reaching the door of the conference room, Harry starts to sit on the floor while he waits but thinks better of it. Conjuring a chair he sits not across from the door but next to it, the chair turned he's facing the space in front of the door, side to the wall. While he waits, Harry thinks about the main reason for wanting to see Pettigrew again. Pettigrew was so frightened of some unnamed fear he came looking for help from the person whose parents he is directly responsible for getting murdered and for the attempted murder of a one year old infant. The person he used to bring Voldemort back to full form and then stood by to watch another murder attempt, that time on a fourteen year old boy. Harry's theory is that the big bad that brought Peter Pettigrew running to him is somehow connected to Adriana Fairchild.
Exactly why or how Pettigrew would be able to sense something brewing months before anything actually happened is a mystery. Why Pettigrew would even be able to sense anything along those lines at all is also a mystery given the man has no history of any sort of divination powers that Harry is aware. His hope is now that an evil act has occurred - the murder of Albus Dumbledore - Pettigrew might have more to say.
Also while he waits for the Minister's meeting to end, Harry thinks more about the pain from his scar. His hand goes to his forehead, unconsciously giving the lightening bolt shaped mark there a rub. The last pain had come, as far as he can piece together, at or near the time Adriana killed Dumbledore. The more Harry has thought about the night and the scar flaring, the more he got to thinking about other occasions he's felt anywhere from an uncomfortable tingle to a sharp stab. There were a few times when he was oddly linked in dreams - nightmares more like - with Bellatrix Lestrange. Since then, each incident has only been since Adriana returned. He feels utterly stupid now for not having made the connection sooner. For not having recognized there was something going on BEFORE his cousin killed the greatest wizard Harry ever had the privilege to know.
That the pain returning to his scar has come only after Adriana returned leads to yet another mystery: What's going on with Adriana that she brings out a reaction in his scar a la Voldemort? There's something he's missing but is it something also unknown to others or is this one more thing he's being shut out on?
By the time the door to the conference room opens and witches and wizards eager to get home emerge, Harry is more determined than ever for Kingsley to hear him out. When the Minister steps into the hall, Harry is on his feet, chair sent away. He glances at Harry but doesn't stop to talk so Harry turns to fall into step beside the man. This brings about a response. "Go home, Harry. I am."
"I want to see Pettigrew."
"No."
"I think I know what has scared him so badly and want to talk to him about it."
This tidbit causes Kingsley to slow, which is really just a normal pace for someone who doesn't have the tall wizard's long legs. "Has it occurred to you someone might have questioned him extensively on that?"
"Yes, of course. I did many times before you had him taken into custody and have no doubt whomever you assigned to him covered the same ground."
"So why do we need to revisit this?"
"Because I'm betting no one's spoken to him about it since Dumbledore's death."
"And?"
"And it needs to be done and I need to be the one to do it."
"Why?"
"It's hard to explain." Harry isn't ready yet to tell anyone else other than Ron about waking up when Dumbledore was being killed, his scar exploding in pain.
"You'll have to do better than that to convince me."
"Why are you punishing me still? I screwed up not letting you know about Pettigrew coming to me. I have more than paid for that but since returning from my suspension you have continued to act as though I have committed some grievous sin."
"Trying to make me feel guilty for being tough on you is not going to get you put on the case."
"I'm not asking you that. I'm asking to be able to speak with Peter Pettigrew."
Kingsley stares at Harry not saying another for at least a minute. When he does speak all he says is, "I'll consider it. Now, I am going home and suggest you do the same."
It's not a victory but it's a least a step in that direction. Knowing to keep pushing now will earn him a, "Bloody hell no," and maybe a look inside that dark little cell Kingsley has threatened him with in the past, Harry gives a curt nod. "Have a good night, Minister."
Harry turns to go the opposite direction back to his cubicle to grabe a couple of things, deciding he'll apparate home rather than use one of the Ministry Floos and wonders if first thing tomorrow morning is too early to ask whether Kingsley has reached a decision.
(Evelyn) Funny Notes
Author: Johanna Steele
Date: 12-19-12 06:01
Evelyn yawned as she looked by the window. She could see a spot of smoke in the sky that possibly came from Hagrid's hut and a large extension of grass and trees. Professor Morgan's voice filled the air of the History of Magic classroom as she spoke about Helga Hufflepuff and her life. But Evelyn barely listened to her.
History of Magic was not the best subject to have first thing in the morning and she had to fight the urge to sleep by keeping her eyes open. Knowing she needed some distraction to keep herself from falling asleep, she picked up her quill and started to scribble some words in a ripped parchment, that she then passed to Envirude that was seated on the desk behind her.
Envirude read the note and quickly wrote a reply to her friend. Dinah, who was seated next to Evelyn asked her in a low tone what were the two of them up to. Evelyn showed her the note and Dinah could not help herself to let go a loud laugh. Several pair of eyes moved towards her and Professor Morgan had to interrupt her class to ask Dinah if there was something amusing in Helga Hufflepuff's life. Dinah apologized and the class continued without points being removed from the Slytherin house. This time they had luck, Evelyn thought.
Once Professor Morgan turned her attention back to the blackboard Evelyn lecture Dinah saying this was exactly why she never wanted to share with her the funny notes she wrote in class.
"I couldn't help it. It was stronger than me. Sparkly brooms…whose idea was this?"
"I heard a group of first years mentioning it yesterday on the common room," Evelyn explained.
"It would fit her well," Dinah agreed.
Despite the fact some weeks had passed since the try outs, Evelyn was still mad she hasn't made the Quidditch team. And so her rage had found a target on the newest member of the Slytherin team, the seeker Rylee Marks. Her brother had already forgotten the fact he didn't enter his house team and Evelyn had no idea how Edgar could do so. Not to mention two of his roommates, Hunter Green and Madoc McGonagall, had done so. Evelyn thought she would die if one of her friends made the team and she didn't. She would be jealous of them and those would end up consuming her.
And of course she was jealous of Rylee too. She was younger than her one year and yet there she was on the team. But what Evelyn hated the most was how she had underestimated Rylee. Last year she was the type of girl who hated outdoor activities and any mention of Quidditch was enough to horrify her. Evelyn was convinced when she saw her on the pitch during the try outs, that she would not have to be concerned about Rylee, neither for the seeker position or any of the others. It happened that she was mistaken and Coach Krum had seen something on her that clearly Evelyn didn't have. Maybe it had been the bludger that hit her head. Thank Merlin she didn't have to wear a bandage around her head anymore; she was tired of having everyone including the teachers asking her what had happened. It made her feel weak and Evelyn didn't like that.
She was absorbed in these thoughts when Professor Morgan started to dismiss the class, warning the students not to forget about their scrolls on a Hogwarts founder.
"What class do we have next?" Evelyn asked.
"Charms with the Hufflepuffs," Envirude said.
"Oh good, something to keep us awake."
"And cheerful!" Dinah joked.
The three Slytherins then walked among the full corridors towards the Charms classroom where they would continue to practice the Cheering Charm that Professor Flitwick has been teaching to his third years.