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Condolences
Author: Bill Weasley
Date: 05-31-13 18:23
Bill stepped onto High Street, pulling up the collar of his coat to shield his neck from the biting cold. He stuffed his gloved hands into his pockets and headed for the junction that led to the East and West Lanes. He was nearly there when an object dipping low in the sky caught his attention. For a moment, it appeared as if a vase of flowers flew completely unassisted, but then Bill noticed the snowy owl carrying its awkward load. The white owl blended with the thick, winter clouds, making it somewhat difficult to see.
Bill stopped and observed the owl and the object it carried. The vase was clear, almost like cut crystal, but there wasn't much sun to catch the many facets on the glass. The flowers were red roses, and they immediately made Bill think of her. After his birthday bouquet last year, Bill would always associate red roses with Adriana. It troubled him to the point that he had charmed the rose bushes in front of the house yellow.
The owl flew past him and continued on to Hogwarts castle. Bill watched the flying flower vase until he could no longer see it and then resumed the path home.
Meanwhile, the owl drew nearer and nearer to the castle. It seemed to know exactly where to go and slipped through a window high in the rafters of the Great Hall, where lunch for some students and staff was underway. The snowy owl spiraled down, at first unobserved by everyone, but soon very noticed due to the load it carried.
It set its sights on the Hufflepuff table, where it gently lowered the vase of roses in front of Angharad Carter-Cardin.
The owl then took flight once more and exited through the window from which it came, heading for the Owlery for a little rest and perhaps a snack.
There was a note with the flower bouquet, a small card on cream-colored parchment.
You're better off without her.
--A.
Studying
Author: Carys
Date: 06-01-13 09:48
With the end of her second official term at St. Emrys just around the corner, Carys found herself in the university library, cramming for her final exams. Since the arrest of the university's serial killer, the atmosphere on campus had changed dramatically. No longer did students and professors make a conscious effort to travel throughout the university's corridors in packs; also the presence of security had lessened both in appearance and actuality. Glancing around the library, Carys noticed several students seated alone at the various tables and study carrells. Even she had a table to herself.
Both Michaelmas Term and Hilary Term, Carys had taken a mix of business classes and photography classes, along with Charms. Because she wanted to open her photography studio in the future, Carys needed to know a little something about operating a business, besides taking photographs.
She already had one final behind her, taken just that morning. The Business Planning exam had gone well, Carys thought, but she supposed she would have to wait and see what the professor thought of her work. She had two more exams this week for her Entrepreneurship and Intro to Charms II courses. On top of those exams, she had two major projects for her photography classes, Landscape Photography and Understanding Flash Photography. The projects were more or less completed, but Carys thought she might add some finishing touches before she submitted them to her professors.
"Hi," whispered Juliet, finding Carys deeply engrossed in one of her textbooks.
Carys looked up with a start and then smiled, indicating for Juliet to take a seat.
Juliet pulled out a chair and took off her backpack, seating it on the edge of the table. She sat down and whispered, "Did you eat already?"
"Yes," Carys whispered back, "after my exam."
"How did it go?"
"Well, I think. Did you want to get lunch?"
"Yes, but if you've already eaten…"
Carys shook her head. "I was thinking a coffee or a fruit smoothie might boost my brain power."
"Well, let's go then. Afterwards, we can come back here and study. Do you have another exam today?"
"No. My next one is tomorrow night."
"I don't either, and my next one is in the morning."
Carys started gathering her things together, and Juliet got up again, slinging her backpack over her shoulder once more. When Carys was ready to go, they set off through the library for the exit and then navigated the corridors to the floo conduits. Juliet decided on the restaurant, a health food type place that offered salads and other mostly vegetable dishes, and also tasty and good-for-you smoothies.
(Willow) Muddling Through
Author: Rowan Westwick
Date: 06-01-13 10:45
Willow hated missing class. It wasn't so much that she feared she would fall behind if she skipped a lesson, but that she prided herself on her perfect attendance. The only classes she ever missed were those during the years of her imprisonment in the nesting doll.
This morning, she'd woken up feeling quite ill. Her head ached and felt thick with congestion. Rather than remain in bed or go to the Hospital Wing for medicinal potions, Willow had gotten ready for the day and attended all her morning classes. At lunch, she'd only eaten a small bowl of soup and some crackers, not having an appetite for anything more.
She, like everyone else in the Great Hall, had seen the bouquet of roses arrive for a girl in Hufflepuff. Willow thought she had heard somewhere that the girl's mum had died. Apparently the rose bouquet had caused a bit of a stir, but in the haze of her illness, Willow had hardly noticed.
After lunch, she'd gone to her remaining class of the day, History of Magic. During her first year at Hogwarts, the ghostly Professor Binns had been her teacher and had put her to sleep even on a perfectly healthy day. She could only imagine how out of it she would be if he were still her teacher today. At least Professor Morgan's class was a bit more lively.
Now that class had ended, Willow finally made her way to the Hospital Wing. With any luck, Madam Pomfrey would treat her and release her that day, so that she could attend her classes tomorrow.
When she finally made it to the Hospital Wing, she found Madam Pomfrey engaged in conversation with Professor Ravenscroft, who held one of her children in her arms. Vallon, red-faced and crying, appeared to have a fever.
At Willow's entry, Madam Pomfrey and Professor Ravenscroft paused their discussion.
"Are you all right, dear?" asked the school nurse.
Willow shook her head. "I think I might have a fever," she said.
Madam Pomfrey indicated to the nearest bed, but before Willow turned to climb into it, she caught sight of something in Vallon's fist. It was a nesting doll.
Understanding
Author: Marzipan
Date: 06-01-13 12:52
Vallon had been somewhat fussy in the morning before Marzi's classes, a precursor perhaps to the fever that would develop later in the day, but had otherwise seemed fine. She had left him and Carter in the daycare and gone through her morning without word that his condition had worsened. Rather than take lunch in the Great Hall and thereby missing the excitement of the mysterious flower delivery, she had spent her lunch hour in the daycare with Vallon, who had gone down for a nap.
It had been towards the end of her last class in the early afternoon that she had learned of his fever. Marzi dismissed class early and went to take care of her son. She found him crying and hot to the touch. She immediately swept him to the Hospital Wing, where she informed Madam Pomfrey of his fever.
Moments after her arrival in the Hospital Wing, second year Slytherin student Willow Westwick came in, also looking a little worse for wear. She indicated that she might have a fever as well and was directed to a nearby bed. Willow turned to follow Madam Pomfrey's instructions, when she caught sight of something in Vallon's hand. Her eyes widened in surprise.
"What is that?" she cried out, seeming far more concerned over the item than Marzi had reason to expect.
Vallon, consistently whining with tears rolling down his red cheeks, squeezed the doll harder in his little hand.
"It's just a toy," Marzi said.
"May I see it?" Willow asked, urgency evident in her voice.
"Miss Westwick! Please get into the bed!" Madam Pomfrey firmly stated.
"No, I need to see it!" Willow exclaimed, moving closer to Vallon. She tried to reach for it, but Vallon pulled it away and shrieked loudly.
"Willow, it's––" Marzi began, but then she stopped. "Oh, Willow," she finally said, suddenly understanding. "I didn't think…"
She, like the other professors at Hogwarts, knew all about Willow's history. Marzi should have realized that seeing the doll would garner such a reaction from the young student.
She reached down and gently pried the doll from Vallon's hand, causing him to shriek even louder. Marzi held it out for Willow to see. "We found it in a junk shoppe in Diagon Alley. Vallon took a liking to it and always keeps it either in his mouth or his hand."
Willow gently took the doll and turned it over in her hand. It wasn't covered in slobber, thankfully. The color had faded some, however, from always being in Vallon's mouth, and there was a chip on its base.
She didn't know for sure what the entire set of dolls looked like. Only Rowan knew if this one was a larger version of the doll Willow herself had been.
"Can I show this to my sister?" Willow asked Marzi. "She would know if this is… if this is my brother or my mum."
Marzi shifted the wailing Vallon in her arms. She didn't blame Willow for thinking every nesting doll she found might be one of her missing family members, but she also thought it was a long shot that this one was anything other than just a doll. She nodded, however, and said, "I will summon her to the Hospital Wing. In the meantime, you get in that bed."
She held out her hand for the doll.
Willow reluctantly gave it back and did as she was told. She kicked off her shoes, took off her school robes, and climbed under the covers.
Marzi gave the doll back to Vallon, which quieted his cries but didn't end them. Then she passed him to Madam Pomfrey. "I'll just be a moment, Poppy," she said.
Madam Pomfrey nodded her head and took Vallon to a crib. While she set about treating her two patients, Marzi went to find Rowan Westwick.
Tired, And It's Only Monday
Author: Declan
Date: 06-01-13 14:11
It's only Monday afternoon but Declan is so tired he wouldn't be able to put it into words if needed. As indicated by the letter, sent anonymously but most likely from Margretta Mathau, the Rita Skeeter article about him ran in the Daily Prophet a week ago Sunday. The fallout was about what he had expected.
There had been snickers from some of the students, most likely amused by the fact that a professor of all people was victim of a love potion. There were some sneers and disgusted looks, quickly hidden if he look their way, almost certainly for the same reason. There were those that expressed a mixture of amusement and disgust. Some had no reaction at all, at least not when around Declan. Only a handful came to ask him about the veracity of the article and to ask if it were true there was a criminal cover-up.
Minerva McGonagall was not at all pleased when the story broke but at least she wasn't angry with Declan nor did she indicate she was mad with Zabrynna. She did, however, voice to Declan a low opinion of a mother who would act so spitefully towards her own child, not caring who else she hurt in the process. The headmistress also not overly pleased when someone from the Ministry came calling to question Declan and her about the alleged failure to report a crime. Trying to explain to someone who was not there what Albus Dumbledore's thought process on the matter had been was not easy. They did finally get across to the woman that all those involved agreed it was a school matter to deal with and not something about which to contact the Ministry's law enforcement division. A point was made about how many students over the years have used love potions at one time or another and that all over the Wizarding Worlds adults do as well. Very rarely is the use considered to be a criminal matter. That the victim, Declan, chose not to press charges, that no pressure was exerted on Declan to keep his silence, and not threat of job loss was made, also indicated to those involved to handle the matter internally.
Declan then had to endure questioning on whether he carried on an affair with an underage girl who also happened to be his student. He knows from AJ and Mariposa that Zabrynna was questioned about that as well. In addition, AJ, Mariposa, and Nolan Ravensdale were questioned. He presumes Margretta was too though he has no doubt she was very negative about the rest of them. Kissy was spared, mainly because she wasn't named in the article and the woman from the Ministry never asked for a list of anyone else who might have known about what Zabrynna did. After several days the Ministry must have been satisfied because the woman stopped coming around and on Friday Declan had received an owl letting him know that no charges would be pressed.
He's not spoken with Zabrynna, in person or by owl, since that Saturday at AJ's when she said she was sure beyond doubt that her mother was Skeeter's source. AJ and Mariposa have given him updates on her but he'd like to see her, talk to her. Declan has avoided doing that, avoided even writing her a letter, knowing she had exams coming up and wouldn't need the added distraction. He knows he should see her sooner rather than later but it's really best to wait until the week is out and the term at St. Ermys has ended.
In the meantime, Declan has trouble thinking about much of anything or anyone else. Looking down at his desk now he realizes he's been sitting without moving for over an hour and has not touched the stack of parchments in front of him needing to be read and graded. Forcing himself to give his attention to the paper on top, Sonya Silver's homework turned in this morning, Declan begins going over the assignment, making a few notations here and there before marking it with a grade. Moving on to the next in the stack, Wilhelmina Kluck's from this morning as well, Declan has a feeling he'll be here well past his office hours if he has any hope of getting done today everything he'd hoped.
(Angharad Carter-Cadin) Blood Red Condolences, A Mockery
Author: Cai Pembroke Carter
Date: 06-01-13 16:42
I sat, staring at the roses that had just landed in front of me at the Hufflepuff table. Their very presence was like a mockery of the grief that had wrapped itself around me the past three days. Perla had attempted to cheer me up, even Cai and Broderick were being nice to me, but even I knew that they were somewhat pleased at having one of two blemishes on their father' character gone, I was the only flaw that remained. Then again, the dark thoughts were probably spurred on by the grief and depression that I seem to have easily wound its way into my day to day life.
My fingers hadn't yet worked their way upwards to unsheath the card from within the blood red blossoms, and part of me hoped it was from my father, but another part of me had a feeling that the sender of these scarlet hued messengers were sent from another, malicious source and that in and of itself made me dread reaching up and reading the pristine, cream colored card nestled amidst scarlet and emerald hues of leaves and petals.
The crystalline vase sparkled mockingly in the light in the Great Hall, and I was no doubt drawing the stares of so many because I'd not yet made a move to touch the roses or the card. I hadn't returned to my meal, which had been interrupted with the arrival of the flowers, and it was currently getting cold and would not be appetizing anyway.
Pushing myself upward, instead, I cast a glance toward the High Table, and saw that Professor, or rather Headmistress McGonagall was still enjoying her meal, and had momentarily let her gaze linger on the bouquet of roses, before turning to answer a question posed to her by Professor Flitwick.
I stepped over the bench and moved forward, closing the distance between my person and the High Table, pausing before the Headmistress.
"May I speak with you for a moment Headmistress?"
When I'd gotten an affirmative, and she'd stepped over to the side so that I might speak with her somewhat quietly without having to fight to be heard, or lean rudely over the table and her meal to speak in a softer voice I told her what it was that concerned me.
"The flowers, I don't think they are from some one I know...because my father wouldn't have sent roses, he would have sent something more appropriate for grieving." I let the words rush out, and after taking a quick breath I continued.
"I have the sinking feeling that they are from the person that caused my mother's death around Valentine's Day. She was in the shop that was attacked by Adriana Fairchild..."
It is the first time I'd spoken with her, and it would not be the last no doubt, but for now, it was gnawing at me that I needed to speak to her, to let her know what was bothering me at this precise moment.
I felt Perla's eyes on my back, and flicked my gaze back over my shoulder and saw that she was keeping others, mainly a few nosey first and second years from plucking the card from the plastic place holder hidden among the flowers.
Perhaps she was right in doing such, given the fact that the Headmistress looked somewhat concerned when I mentioned the fact that I thought the roses were from the person that had killed Albus Dumbledore.
Within moments, the flowers were soon checked for any ill, and when there was nothing found I was left to stare at the vibrant flowers, and now the card was resting on the table next to it. The words sending a chill down my spine, why would someone send this? Attempts at condolences failed, a cruel and twisted joke was what this was. Within moments, I simply turned and walked away, I did not want the flowers, I did not believe the message of supposed 'hope' written on the cream colored card.
Hopefully a house elf would not think it a kind gesture and have them sitting on my nightstand when I got to my room, hopefully they would get thrown away, or burned, or someone else could claim them. I cared not what happened to the vial things.
I paused just outside the door, hearing footfalls, and someone calling my name. I turned and without saying a word leaned into Perla as she stepped out of the Great Hall, letting the door close behind her.
"I'm really not better off without her am I?" The words were a murmured sob as I clung to my girlfriend and desperately attempted to keep my hold on my emotions and not breakdown like some sort of fool.
Perla let me lean into her, and kept her arms wrapped around me for a few moments before she attempted to draw back. "Let's go to the Common Room and if you want, up to your room and curl up and just talk or whatever."
I nodded lightly, and let Perla lead me back to the Ravenclaw Common Room and ultimately up to my room. I had no idea how I'd managed to get changed into my favorite pair of Rainbow Brite retro pajama pants and a tank top, but I was just glad that I had Perla to begin slowly anchoring me back into reality, and slowly chipping away at the depression.
Routine
Author: Abdul Hazrat AlGunud
Date: 06-02-13 11:30
The wizard sat behind his desk, quill poised over parchment. At the query from a co-worker, he shook his head as if to clear his thoughts. This resulted in ink from the tip of the quill being scattered across the parchment and part of desk.
"Ha! Caught you daydreaming about that cute little witch down on the 3rd floor didn't I?"
"Well, uhm, nonsense, I was just thinking about what groceries I would need to pick-up," the wizard sputtered. The tone of his response contained just the right hint of embarrassment.
"Not likely. Once you're done with that report, could you take the entire batch down to the Law Enforcement office? That should be the last of the lot."
"Of course," a minor spell to clean-up the spilled ink and several minutes of scribbling later and report was complete. He added the parchment to the top of a substantial pile of documents located between their two desks. It threatened to topple over at any minute. Gathering the pile into a neat bundle, the wizard tucked it underneath his arm.
Making way towards the door, he casually said over his shoulder, "I was going to run out to Geoffreys, maybe an orange spiced tea and lunch. Can I get you anything?"
"Naah. I'll stick with the cafeteria."
"Well it will stick to you, especially the black pudding."
"Aah. You fancy types have no appreciation of good food. If you ate there regularly, you would see. It'll grow on you."
"That is what I am afraid of."
Laughter followed him out the door. He had made it a habit of eating out on a semi-regular basis. This was aided by the fact that he truly did not care for most of the food served in the cafeteria. Once a routine was established, others would come to ignore his actions. They would see what they expected to see. There were a handful of eateries near the ministry that catered to employees. He was a regular at all of them. It was not unknown for him to meet a friend for lunch. It was all very routine. Routine had been the key to his success. In the five years he had spent working in the ministry, he had never had to endure anything more than cursory scrutiny from the Security Office.
After dropping off the paperwork at the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, he threaded his way through the crowds and made it over to Geoffreys just in time to catch the lunch special. The tomato bisque soup was a specialty on Tuesdays, but it tended to sell out quickly. Juggling his tray laden with soup, bread and salad; he found his contact occupying a small table near the back.
"Roger, good to see you again."
"James just in time for lunch. Your timing is impeccable as always."
"I have my priorities straight."
The two shared a laugh at the old joke. They talked about Quidditch, food and politics. Never once did the conversation veer into any sensitive matters. Anyone listening would have found the entire conversation to be completely innocuous. When Roger accidentally spilled some soup, James handed him a wadded-up napkin. The exchange took less than two seconds. The piece of paper slipped from the napkin into the robe smoothly.
After lunch, the two parted ways. James made his way back to the ministry. It had been a productive lunch. His position as liaison between the Department of International Magical Cooperation and other departments had proven to be very fruitful. It afforded him access to a great deal of sensitive information. Information that other parties were willing to pay substantial amounts to obtain.