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(Madeline) Good News or Not So Good News
Author: Sy Tremont
Date: 01-05-13 07:36
The term had started off well enough for eleven year old Madeline Destrand, but as October crept in with the hints of autumn's chill the frigid hand of death wrapped itself around those that Madeline held dear. Her mother and her father both dead. She'd had leave from the grounds and classes the first of the month and gone to their funeral. It was shortly after that, she had been alerted by a solicitor that they were trying to find the person, Sylvain Tremont, that had been listed as her father's heir.
She did not understand why her father would give this stranger -everything- and leave her nothing but a trust fund that she could not touch until she came of age? Well, there was also the allotted amount granted to her for living expenses and things of that nature.
She'd gotten mail this morning over breakfast, but hadn't bothered to read it, as she'd been too busy rushing from the great hall and arriving at her first class, and then by lunch it had been forgotten.
Upturning her bag on her bed, she caught sight of the letter once more. It bore Mister Sullivan's hand upon it, and that meant that there was some form of news pertaining to her father's estate and perhaps the location of this mysterious Sylvain Tremont person that her father thought worthy of gaining everything.
Tearing the envelope open, she settled on her bed in a mass of school robes and unfolded the letter. Eyes that matched the shade of green usually tied to Slytherin House, surveyed the neat script upon the parchment.
Miss Destrand,
I do hope this letter finds you well and that your studies are progressing well enough. I am not yet back in London, but I shall be soon.
The purpose of this letter is to alert you to the fact that I have successfully tracked down the individual that was left your father's estate. It would seem he is a bastard, from some woman your father had an affair with some years before you were born. Why he would see fit to leave everything to this particular young man I have no idea.
He currently resides in Los Angeles, California, and if all goes well he will be back in London before the end of the week. I will ensure that he comes to see you at the first available opportunity.
Sincerely,
Mister Alistair Sullivan
Madeline sighed and crumpled the letter, tossing it to the foot of her bed and sank back on the pillows. So, not only did Mister Sylvain Tremont inherit every penny of her father's fortune, but he was now her legal guardian - at least until she came of age and she could get out from under his thumb.
It was times like this that made her question why the Sorting Hat had chosen to put her in Gryffindor instead of Slytherin.
Professor Howell
Author: Desdemona Diamond
Date: 01-05-13 11:40
The day had been fun, for me at least. Orion sat at his desk in his tiny office rubbing his shoulder while trying to eat lunch at the same time. On the other hand, I had no problem eating.
"You dropped me on purpose," He said out of nowhere.
"You flinched."
"You dropped."
"Flinched. Besides, if I was dropping, then you'd have broken something by now." He didn't say anything in response. I knew he wouldn't voice the fact he was hurt from the repeated impacts. Or that he was probably regretting letting me help him.
It had started this morning. I was finally returned to the St. Emrys investigation since today was the start of the new term. I accompanied Orion to the university when he went in. That's when things started to get a little interesting. We learned that since only a handful of university staff knew what actually happened the night I got attacked, they were told to keep quiet. The rest of the staff was given a line about how 'the professor was unable to take the stress of his job and decided to pursue other interests.'
Someone higher than me had decided to keep the attack under wraps, to prevent panic in the school. There was no need to let anyone know about a professor going psycho and trying to kill someone when there was still a killer on the loose. However, this did present another problem as well. Since the attack was only a little over a month ago, the university was short one DADA professor. They were in talks with someone but the position was still open.
That's where Orion came into the picture. Since he's 'just a TA' at the school, he has to do all the normal TA stuff. Well, they need at DADA professor for a week, maybe two. Who better? Orion did not look happy when they dropped that one on him. With less than an hour to figure out what to do for the class he had to come up with something.
That's where I came in. I was helping him teach 'non magical defense techniques.' In other words, I got to beat people up, namely Orion. I was having fun with it, but could tell he wasn't. He was at first, but it wasn't long before he started to feel it. Playing punching bag or tossing dummy is hard work.
After watching him for a little bit, I my food down and moved to give him a shoulder massage. I got this feeling that he was not going to voice how sore he must be.
"I just had an idea," I said to him.
"Hmm?" I think he asked, he wasn't really eating either, just sitting there.
"What if you ask for student volunteers? You won't get hurt anymore, and you can clearly talk about what's going on."
"Hmm…"
The Church Tango
Author: Tiberius Nott
Date: 01-06-13 06:26
An iron gate marked the entrance to the churchyard; the old church was visible as a dark, irregular outline against the still-bright London sky. The city had encroached on this green patch in St Pancras parish; the railways had dissected and confined it. It had swallowed whole the River Fleet that once ran beside the most ancient building in the borough; the river was buried under tunnels and pavement, forty feet deep, consigned to the underworld.
The girl pushed past the gate. Her hood was drawn up against the intermittent rain; the path was paved with shining puddles that led up to the old church. For once, her feline companion did not shadow her with his vocal remonstrances.
Her new shadow followed her into St Pancras Church. She walked down the aisle, her steps echoing off the floor of empty church. She removed her hood, revealing a mass of red hair and a set of small, pale hands. The young lady contemplated the altar, the light of the candles giving to the chapel a somewhat haunted look. The rain could be heard outside, hitting the tiles of the roof with a tireless determination. A shadow covered the wall and the candles trembled. The red haired woman did not move as the shadow got bigger and bigger, swallowing her own. The rain kept falling, an endless lullaby in that cold chapel. Suddenly there was a sound from behind the young woman but before anything could happen she swiftly turned around, raised her wand and said: 'Expelliarmus!'.
The man fell on his back with a heavy thud, while the red haired woman collected his wand with a look of satisfaction printed on her face. The only witnesses of this odd encounter were the stony saints, whose gazes stayed still, as if they gave no importance to what was happening before them.
She moved around him, her wand pointed to his chest. A thin line of blood fell from his lips, staining his dark robes; she had used all her strength in the disarming spell. His face was still covered with the hood but she did not try to remove it and reveal the identity of her mysterious stalker.
"Are you from the Ministry of Magic?"
His laugh echoed in the chapel. His amusement irritated her, and it was enough for her concentration to break. Taking advantage of this he quickly snatcher her wand from her and stood up. Now they were face to face holding opposite wands. He felt the unfamiliar weight of the wand in his gloved hand and he held it even tighter. They moved in circles, each one studying their opponent carefully. They looked like two felines and despite the tension of the moment, their movements where filled with grace.
"Shall we dance?" he spoke for the first time, raising his wand.
"I am afraid there is no music," she replied, showing her claws.
Phyllida tested the unfamiliar wand in her hand; it was a hard one, heavier than her own, but more yielding. The colour was pale and the grain broad - a conifer, she thought. Fir. She tested it with her mind, trying to find his weakness. Her cloaked pursuer would not make the first attack; of that she was certain.
"Petrificus Totalus," she uttered quickly.
The hooded man countered her curse easily, but did not return with an offensive. He merely circled closer, smirking grimly.
"What do you want from me?" She backed up the aisle, wand still raised.
Before he could make his reply, the heavy door of the chapel opened. He pulled her by the robes and forced her to kneel next to him, their heads low. His gloved hand gripped her wrist tightly, and they held their wands low. She looked at him with fury in her gaze, but she did not say a thing.
A Muggle pastor entered the church, shaking off an umbrella. He regarded the couple kneeling before the altar. Perhaps it was their peculiar dress that set his brow on edge, or the shine of wet footprints around the aisle, that indicated that they had been running around like two children in his holy house. The priest observed their guilt, and he was certain they were up to something.
He preferred for displays of affection to remain firmly outside church doors. But the young seemed to prefer swapping kisses on a church bench to the theatre. Frankly, he could not understand the appeal.
Sighing, he ignored the couple and moved on. Most likely they had huddled within to escape the downpour on a romantic evening stroll.
As the pastor disappeared from view, Phyllida lifted her head. His leathern grip was still firmly attached to her wrist. "So?" she asked, gripping his wand low, where he could not see it. She subtly angled it towards him, a smile on her face. "My question still stands."
He realised, quickly, that this 'dance' would never end unless he revealed his intentions to her. Perhaps it would also be a good idea to tell her who he was. The hood dropped, and there appeared the pale face of Tiberius Nott, the corner of his mouth smeared with drying blood.
"You!"
The surprise was there, but her suspicion towards his person did not diminish. Carefully, Nott placed her wand on the wooden bench and raised his arms up in the air. Now, she would lead the dance.
"Calm down. I want to help you."
"I don't want or need your help," she spat, stabbing the air with his wand.
"Careful with that."
Her face contorted. "I know what I'm doing. Fir. Twelve inches. Dragon heartstring."
"Ah," he chuckled, amused. "Seems I've fallen for a student of Wandlore."
She seized her own wand quickly, shoving his in her pocket. "What could possibly motivate you to help me, Tiberius?"
"Depends what you're willing to give in return," he replied suavely.
She narrowed her eyes in derision. "Not even the air in my breath," she muttered, and spun on her heel, her cloak swirling around her ankles.
"Remember, my dove; the Abbey will always welcome you," he called after her. "It is, after all, as much your home as mine. Please do visit. And, when you do, you might want to bring back my wand."
Discussion
Author: Ella
Date: 01-06-13 12:01
The Wyrding Way, the coffee shop across the street from St. Emrys University, was crowded on Tuesday morning, when Francis arrived to purchase a coffee and a scone. He queued up behind other students, many of whom were clustered together in groups, though a few were also alone.
Francis fished a few coins out of his pocket when he felt a tap on his shoulder. Turning around, he saw one of the last people he expected to see in Stratford-upon-Avon.
"Mr. Harville!" he exclaimed. "What are you doing here?"
"I came to talk," said Ella's father. He wore his business attire, indicating he planned on heading to the Ministry of Magic at some point during the course of the morning.
"How did you know to find me here?" Francis asked. While he had made no secret about his plans to attend the wizarding university beginning this term, he nonetheless hadn't expected Mr. Harville to track him down so easily.
"Good timing on my part, I suppose," Dunstan replied. "I apparated on the grounds and happened to see you heading in this direction. Do you have some time this morning or should we arrange to meet another time?"
Francis checked his watch. "I have class in half an hour, so we can talk now unless you think we need more time. Is this about Ella? Have you found her? Heard from her?"
"Half an hour is a good start," Mr. Harville answered, "and yes, this is about Ella, but no, I haven't seen or heard from her since before she left Hogwarts."
Francis frowned. It was very unlike Ella to ignore her father. She hadn't even gone this long without speaking with him when she'd been angry with him for leaving her mother and taking up with Delilah.
"Are you saying you think we need to do something?" Francis asked.
"I know I said before that she is an adult and can do what she pleases, but I am inclined to agree with you that there is something very wrong. I have written her several letters and she hasn't replied to any of them."
Francis nodded. "So have I. I'm beginning to wonder if she's even receiving them."
"Do you think that Zane fellow is confiscating her mail?" Dunstan wondered aloud.
"I wouldn't put it past him. He's very controlling."
The discussion was placed on hold for a moment, while Francis made his selections and offered to get Mr. Harville something too. A few minutes later, they sat together on a sofa against one wall of the coffee shop and resumed their conversation.
"What do you propose we do?" Francis asked.
"I think we need to find out where she is living. Zane has a place in Hogsmeade, is that right?"
"I think he did at one time but I don't know if he still does," Francis answered.
"It's a place to start," Mr. Harville reasoned. "With any luck, we'll find Ella there."
"And if not?"
"Then we're back at square one."
Peppermint Leafs
Author: Liam Murray
Date: 01-06-13 13:01
Tuesday started with Potions with the Slytherin house. That only increased Liam's bad mood. He had a hard time waking up so early and his body was sore from yesterday's Quidditch practice.
Julietta Wybourne, the team's captain, took them to the limit. This was her last year at Hogwarts and like everyone else she wanted the cup to belong to Gryffindor. Liam was still learning to play alongside Madoc McGonagall, his fellow beater player. They had to be on the same page and coordinate their actions and moves so they wouldn't bump into each other while in the air, but sometimes it was still hard to know what Madoc was thinking. Liam was sure the more he played with him the more they would start figuring out each other's line of thinking.
He barely had time to eat his breakfast since he was already late for class and his stomach was growling, not satisfied with just one toast and a few sips of pumpkin juice.
Liam seated next to Orville. Although when the school year started he had declared he did not care about his parents' divorce, he now looked very affected by it. Both his parents had written to him and it seemed he had to make a choice with who he would have to live from now on. It shouldn't seem such a conflict since they were on a boarding school but as Liam learned, they were both urging Orville to make decision as soon as possible.
"My father promised me a new broom, if I come to live with him. He keeps buying me with presents. Remember last week, all those galleons he sent me to spend at Hogsmeade? He wants me to forget that he had cheated on my mother. On the other hand my mother told me we might spend Christmas aboard, in Italy. She knows I always wanted to go there…"
The class started and Liam tried to focus, but without success. His mind was on Orville and he wondered if he would find out Mr. Owens' lover was Jake's mother. Would that damage the friendship between Jake and Orville? And would they be mad at him and Cody for already knowing this and not telling them?
"Wake up, Murray, you're messing up everything! "
Audrey Appleseed was next to him, apparently not pleased with the way he was chopping the peppermint leafs that would be destined into the cauldron. He had no idea how she ended up paired up with him, but since Cody lied about Liam having a crush on her, she would always be around. Most of the days Liam could handle her, but not today. And so he just pulled the leafs in her direction and passed her the knife.
"Do it yourself then."
"Thank you. Finally a guy who admits girls can handle things better than him."
And Audrey started to chop the peppermint leafs happily, while Liam moved on to the next ingredient, shrugging his shoulders.
100 Miles Apart
Author: Fritz Schnackenpfefferhausen
Date: 01-06-13 14:16
Not many students are enrolled in Introduction to Chemistry, and those that are seem divided among students reading Potions and the more ambitious Muggle Studies students. Fritz, of course, is of the former group. This is his last year at St. Emrys University. In June, assuming all goes as planned, Fritz will earn his Tertiary Order in Potions.
The professor, a wizard in a set of robes made out of brown tweed and wearing a light green bow tie, shuffles into the room and announces, "Welcome to Introduction to Chemistry. I am Professor Harris. Is there anyone here who already has a familiarity with Chemistry?"
Fritz raises his hand. Only one other student does.
"Very well. As this is an introductory course, we will start with the very basics and progress from there. You there, what is your name?"
Professor Harris is pointing at Fritz.
"My name is Fritz, Sir," Fritz replies.
"Come hand out the syllabi, will you Fritz?"
Fritz obediently rises and takes the stack of parchment from his professor. He then goes around the room distributing the syllabi to each of his classmates. By the time he has returned to his seat, Professor Harris has finished describing what the students can expect from his class––and what he expects from his students. Then the lecture begins in earnest.
---
Approximately 100 miles from Stratford-upon-Avon in London, Berthold Beatenberg arrives on the doorstep of the son of one of his old comrades. The terraced house looms darkly over the visitor. The brick is grey but either a very dark shade or dirty from soot in the air, and the roof is black as pitch. Heavy curtains cover the windows. One parts to eye the visitor, wherein Berthold catches a glimpse of an emaciated house-elf.
A moment later, the elf is at the door inquiring, "Who is visiting the master?"
"Tell him Berthold Beatenberg is here."
The door shuts for half a moment, but then reopens to admit the guest. The house-elf leads him to a parlor room, the walls of which are covered in dark green tapestry and dark bookshelves filled with old leather tomes. Berthold takes a seat in a wingback armchair, at the house-elf's insistence.
A few minutes pass and then a young man enters the room. He's tall, with dark hair and eyes and a bit of scruff on his handsome face.
"You must be Herr Beatenberg," the wizard says in German, extending a hand to his guest. "I am Hans Freitag."
"You look like your father," Berthold says, shaking the young wizard's hand, "or how he looked when I first knew him."
Johann Freitag had been one of Gellert Grindelwald's followers on the mainland and had been one of Berthold's better friends. He still lived, but unlike Berthold, Johann had gotten old. He had spent twenty years in prison for his part in Grindelwald's crimes, before finding himself a young and willing bride, the mother of Hans.
Hans had grown up on the mainland and moved to London soon after reaching his majority. He is an antiquer, specializing in furniture, though his interest also lies in precious objects and books. He also deals on the black market.
"My father told me you would come and insisted I give you lodging," Hans says. "I am willing, of course, and ask if I can offer you any assistance…?"
"Thank you. There is one thing I believe you can help me with… I wish to know more about Adriana Fairchild. Who is she, and where might I find her?"
Hans furrows his handsome brow. "I can help you with the former question, but I am not certain anyone knows where she is."
"Ah, but I'm sure someone can find her. Surely someone knows where she is hiding."
"Perhaps," Hans replies. "I will inquire. In the meantime, I will ask the house-elf to show you to your room."
"Thank you, Hans. I will write to your father, praising you for your hospitality. Please see that your elf leaves me any newspapers that mention Miss Fairchild, will you?"
"Yes, of course."
The house-elf returns and leads Berthold upstairs to a room at the end of the hall. The room is not too large or small and is decorated in dark colors, like the rest of the house. The adjacent washroom is accessible only from the room itself, giving Berthold enough privacy to live and conduct business as if he were at home and not a visitor in somebody else's.
He hopes that any connections Hans has to the underground might point in the direction of the witch Berthold strongly believes killed not only Dumbledore but Grindelwald as well.
What's this?
Author: Diana Clarisse Thatcher
Date: 01-06-13 15:41
Being alone at this magical school really makes Diana feel lonely. It already is a while after she went here. And yet she hasn't found anybody to be friends yet. What she's not going to be so desperate asking her fellow students if they want to be friends with her.
There is still time. It's still early for only the start of school. So she busied herself on studies. On her courses, homeworks, and essays. Surely, this Professors really like to give out essays for homework.
I don't mind. I like doing essays. Much more like it homework. I am really hoping to do good in every one of my courses. And the only one thing is finding Slytherin friends.
It's because of my Slytherin background. It's fine with the Gryffindors but this is what my dad called "special request".
"Sweetheart, I have a special request from you."
"What is it dad?"
"Make sure you'll get Slytherin friends and get along well with them. I don't know what house you're going to be but try to do my special request and write us, me and your mom a letter every time. Or owl us."
"We love you sweetheart."
Well my father's "special request" could be a while. I try my best but I think Slytherin and Gryffindors don't get along that much. Because in potions class I saw some students glaring at each other. Before I knew it, they're muttering some bad things in their breath.
I saw their uniforms and they have Slytherin crest and other is a Gryffindor.
I shook my head. I don't want to be in the middle of that. If anyone cast a spell on me, I wanted to be ready. That's why I'm always at the library and doing homework.
Raised as half witch and muggle, it's hard for Diana to keep up in the wizarding world, much more Hogwarts. Still she kept on reading books because their family lives in the muggle world where her mother Clarisse owns a shop of clothes and her father, a family restaurant.
She took out her paper and her art supplies. She started to draw. She's really artistic, you can say that. Her drawings are very detailed. She wanted to go to art school at the muggle world to pursue her drawing course.
"I'll just finish this and then go to class." She learned to love Hogwarts and the wizarding world. They are very interesting and magical. Somehow, she doesn't feel alone.
She grabbed her art supplies and started to put them away. She glanced at the window wondering if the quidditch class is happening. She is so amazed by the flying and game.
"I'll see if I can have flying lessons. I'll ask a professor." With that she hurried towards her class.
Outside the gryffindor house, she hurried, not caring about where she is walking. She then bumped into somebody.
"I'm sorry, I wasn't looking." I said she has her things scattered on the floor and some also mine. We both picked them up.
"Thanks. I got to go." She said hurriedly
"Me too bye." Then Diana noticed something on the floor. What's this? Sketching pencils?
She maybe dropped this. " Wait you forgot something!" but she is already out of sight.
I examined the box. Araxie Loren, Ravenclaw. That's what it said. I put them in my bag and also hurried.
"I'll give it to her later. I got to get to class." With that she was also out of sight.