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(Diana) Meeting Devon
Author: Diana Clarisse Thatcher
Date: 06-26-13 11:03
It was such a great day. I've finished all my homework and I am very pleased with the results. I just finished a class and I think I am beginning to like Charms as my favorite class. I don't know how my dad will react to this, being a former Slytherin he wants me to have Slytherin qualities as well. Like being good in Potions. Believe me, I am trying really hard for that. Bad enough that I've been sorted into Gryffindor, now Potions is not hard but challenging to me.
I am going to the great hall to do some essays and read books. Such calming things to do. I sat myself on one of the tables and started to take out some parchment, quill and some books.
I started to write for a while, think of a topic and then write some more.
"Excuse me, what are you doing?" A voice said behind me. I turned and felt surprised. A Ravenclaw boy with blonde hair was speaking.
"Huh?" That's all I said.
"I said what are you doing? I'm sorry if I startled you."
He repeated what he said.
"Oh, I'm writing an essay about Astronomy. About skies and stars and galaxies."
"Oh, that's really nice. Me too. I write essays, read books and music." He then sat beside me.
"Oh yeah. That's good then."
"I hope I'm not a bother."
"No you're not." I said.
"I am Devon Exer Modern, 2nd year, Ravenclaw." He said wanting to shake my hand.
"I am Diana Clarisse Thatcher, 1st year Gryfffindor." I shook his hand.
"Do you know someone named Laura Simpson, 1st year Ravenclaw as well?" I said.
"Ummm, not really, there are so many Ravenclaw students that's in that house. Why?" he asked.
"Because we met her the other day. Me and my friend. They were exchanging chocolate frog cards." I said.
"Oh, ok then. Nice meeting you Diana. I have to get back to the common room. I have to do my homework too. See you, don't worry, I will owl you. Bye."
"Bye". After he left I am glad I have a new friend. Better tell this this to Galadriel.
A Good Reason to Avoid the Common Commons
Author: Valeria Mockridge
Date: 06-26-13 13:36
Valeria was quite content to relax in the Common Commons before Astronomy, at least now that most of her homework, at least what she knew about, was completed. It wasn't her usual preference for a place to spend her time, given the prevalence of canoodling couples, but Petula was working in their usual space and she claimed Valeria was a distraction.
The boys were off doing something or other, she really didn't know what, and she liked it that way. Boys were confusing and while Anton was amusing, and she liked Titus well enough, she really didn't want to spend her every waking moment with them. Merope shifted on her lap, the contented purr stopping immediately as the cushions beside her sank down to reveal a Ravenclaw first year that she didn't know. It wasn't Newland, or Quigley, she knew those two, and while she knew this one by sight, she didn't pay enough attention to know his name.
She didn't greet him, or say anything, simply raising one blonde eyebrow in a questioning fashion while wondering what he could possibly want. Her outraged screech when he kissed her drew all attention to her as she got to her feet, Merope hissing as she landed beside her. But before Valeria could grab her wand, Anton's drawled hex was already hitting home.
"You alright, Mockridge?" he asked, glancing to her from the corner of his eye as a Slytherin prefect stopped a Hufflepuff one from confronting them.
"Yes, thank you. Though I need to Scourgify my mouth now," Valeria answered, her wand still pointing at the boy.
Drawn by the screech, Professor Snape peered into the Common Commons, his sneer firmly in place. "What happened here?" he asked quietly, taking in the sight of a hexed Ravenclaw on the floor and two of his first year Slytherins standing over him without raising an eyebrow.
"Someone thought it wise to accost Mockridge, Sir," Anton answered.
"Miss Mockridge?"
"Yes, sir. He kissed me without my consent, nor would he have been given it, Sir," Valeria answered respectfully. "Anton hexed him before I could get my wits about me."
"I was coming to get her for a game of Chess, while Nott and the other boys finish their homework, though I thought Parkinson might be with her," Anton added.
Professor Snape nodded. "Ten points from Slytherin then, I'm not certain that particular hex was called for. Go on back to the Common Room," he said, not surprised when they did as he asked. A lazy wave of his wand removed the hex on the Ravenclaw. "Thirty points from Ravenclaw. Next time, try to make sure the young lady in question actually wants your attentions, though I cannot imagine why any would. And the rest of you, back to what you were doing," he said before turning on his heel, robes billowing out behind him.
The Gift
Author: Ethan Somerset
Date: 06-26-13 15:41
A news program on the Wizarding Wireless Network ran softly in the background while Ethan sat at the desk in his office and marked parchments. It was the last week of Winter Term and perhaps one of the busier weeks for office hours. Ethan had seen several students during the course of the afternoon, most having questions regarding the tests scheduled for tomorrow's and Friday's classes. In between student visits, he read over the assignments turned in this week.
Ethan was concentrating deeply on a second year's essay on the first fall of Voldemort, when a rapping at his window startled him. He jumped in his seat and then laughed at himself when he realized it was only an owl. The owl, a great, black thing with bright yellow eyes, looked somewhat ominous, especially since its tufted ears looked almost like horns. It bore a small, square package wrapped in blue metallic foil and tied with silver ribbon.
Ethan got up and opened the window. The spring air was crisp and refreshing, but still cool enough that he didn't want to keep the window propped open. Ethan shut the window after the owl landed on his desk and then sat down to examine the package.
It was Ethan's birthday, his thirty-seventh birthday, to be exact. He had gotten a few birthday cards already and had no reason to find the arrival of the unmarked gift disconcerting. He turned it over in his hands, wondering who had sent it and what it contained. The innards rattled slightly but gave no indication as to what the gift might be.
Ethan untied the ribbon and then used his wand to break through the spellotape that secured the wrapping paper around the square box. He lifted the lid, and all the excitement and intrigue left him in a sudden whoosh. Broken bits of wood and a severed cord of some sort littered the bottom of the box. At first, Ethan felt puzzled, but as realization dawned, his heart began to pound fiercely in his chest. He knew what he was looking at, after all, but he didn't know why or how.
It was then that he noticed a slip of parchment under the debris. He reached for it, suspecting the reason the gift had reached him despite the dark magic detection all owl post underwent at Hogwarts nowadays was because there was nothing dangerous about it. It was totally innocuous, except, perhaps, psychologically.
Ethan unfolded the parchment and read:
A reminder of the past. History is set to repeat itself.
NN
Ethan tossed the note aside and gazed back into the box. He remembered the destruction of his first wand quite vividly. It had preceded his first stint in Azkaban, after he had turned himself in to the Ministry of Magic for crimes committed while under Lord Voldemort's influence. As far as he knew, his wand had not only been destroyed but disposed of, so how had Nero Noir gotten his hands on the pieces of Ethan's first wand? Furthermore, what exactly did Nero mean when he claimed that history was set to repeat itself?
Ethan stared at the wand fragments in the box for a long moment and then closed the lid, thoughts of the past and an unknown future whirring wildly in his mind.
Couples Couples Everywhere
Author: Georgia Copperpot
Date: 06-26-13 16:13
"I'm not staying long."
Isabella rolls her eyes at me. "Of course you are. You'll stay for supper, which is the entire point of having people over."
"People in the form of couples."
"Not everyone."
I start ticking off couples. "You and Lothaire. Edith and Fortescue. Catherine and Javier. Midge and Bill. Kristi and Holger. And those two I do not know at all."
Lothaire is the Froggy-a-go-goer Izzy has been dating since Halloween. Fortescue Fitzmorris is who Edith has been dating for quite some time now. Javier Precatado is the Brazilian boyfriend Catherine met when Hogwarts played Escola Mágica de Brasil. Poor Catherine is torn between him and her Hogwarts crush Edward Croft whom she's seen a few times since their date on Halloween. The others are friends made at St. Emrys. All but that couple whose name I don't know. Okay, they are friends. Just not mine. Or maybe they are party crashers and my pointing them out will have Izzy confronting them, giving me a chance to slip away unnoticed.
Alas. That is not to be. Izzy frowns slightly. "Tanya and Vlad? You do too know them."
"I do?"
"From that last Potions we took? And you showed them a house your mum has listed. Rather, you sprawled on the floor moaning about the lack of sex gods in your life while I gave them the tour."
"Oh. Right. Them."
"Also, you are not the only person here who is not part of a couple. There's Tommaso."
Izzy points to a vaguely familiar, dark haired, olive skinned bloke talking with Edith's chap Fortescue. "Lothaire and Tommaso had a class together and became friends."
"Why does he sort of look familiar?"
"He's in that band that played at Halloween, Tangerine Dagger."
"The drummer? No, the bassist."
"Right. Come on, I'll introduce you."
Izzy plucks at my sleeve but I don't move. "Georgia?"
"Is this a set up like a blind date?"
"No, it's Lothaire asking Tommaso because he was free this evening."
"But not to round out your numbers?"
"All right, possibly."
"So a set up."
"Call it what you will, Georgia. Perhaps I was hoping that if you knew you were not the only singleton here, you wouldn't leave like I knew you were going to say you would. Now, move your arse, pretend to be sociable, and put on a smile even if you have to fake it."
I put on my best fake, cheesiest smile because I know the fakity faux smile will annoy her and let her lead me over to be introduced to Tommaso. I will not be bowled over by whatever charm he possesses or by the fact that he's somewhat hunky.
Translations:
Froggy-a-go-goer - French, as in from France
singleton - without a date, whether of the sex god variety or not
(Adriana) Plans
Author: Bill Weasley
Date: 06-26-13 17:15
The earth was still barren in parts of the cloister, but the wild undergrowth Adriana recalled upon first discovering her hideaway had reemerged in other parts. She stood next to the brightly blooming rose bushes and pressed her wand into the forearm of a new initiate who had shown her worth by collecting more than just a little bit of money for the cause.
Adriana gave the new initiate not her mark but his. After all, they were all doing his bidding in the end. She was just his mouthpiece.
"Congratulations, Malarie."
Malarie McEvilley, a twenty-something witch with long black hair and severely arched eyebrows, bowed her head and then stepped away from Adriana. The newly inked Dark Mark contrasted deeply with the paleness of her arm.
"You are dismissed," Adriana announced to the gathered Death Eaters. Some disapparated on the spot, while others moved in various directions to see to projects around the abbey. Adriana fell into step with Ivanova. Without speaking, they walked to the room where Berthold Beatenberg remained their prisoner.
He had gone quite gray and much thinner in captivity. Where his blackened hands had been there were now stumps; Bellatrix Lestrange had used her favorite cauterizing and filleting knives with loving precision on the traitor's useless appendages.
"What's to be done with him?" Ivanova asked from the doorway. Berthold sat hunched forward and appeared to be sleeping. "The man stinks to high heaven. I swear I can smell him across the entire complex!"
Adriana had a good nose but Berthold's odor didn't offend her as greatly as it did Ivanova. She had lived in New York City for years and had been well acquainted with the smells of the less fortunate.
She shrugged her shoulders and said, "I suppose we don't have any more use for him." She thought about Hans, who walked freely now but under Xiomara's close scrutiny. So far the younger wizard had done nothing to suggest his continued loyalty for Berthold, but perhaps he needed a little test.
A smile touched Adriana's lips. She turned away from Berthold's room and walked in no direction in particular. She eventually arrived at her sitting room and sank into one of the antique chairs Hans had procured at her bequest. Ivanova followed but didn't sit. He could tell that his mistress was formulating a plan and he didn't want to disturb her concentration by asking questions.
Whatever was on her mind, she didn't share it right away. The aloof expression on her face faded, to be replaced by one Ivanova couldn't quite decipher.
"I should like to visit Harry," she finally said, much to Ivanova's surprise.
"Harry Potter?" Ivanova questioned. "To do so would be to put yourself directly into the hands of the authorities. Why would you wish to risk your freedom for him?"
Adriana didn't immediately answer. The truth was, Harry was her only family––by blood, at any rate. She had come to look at her followers as her family in a way, but camaraderie among a group versus blood relations was something entirely different. Not that she and Harry had ever been close.
She didn't know who had put him into a coma, but Harry no doubt had plenty of enemies. Sometimes Adriana thought she wasn't one of them.
"I just want to see if it's true what they say," she finally answered, making it seem as if she weren't worried about her cousin's well-being.
"Then send someone else to look," Ivanova stated. "Delegate someone to infiltrate St. Mungo's and verify Potter's status."
Adriana stood back up. "Bring Malarie to me." She didn't like being questioned or disobeyed, but she knew Ivanova was right. But maybe there was another way to get exactly what she wanted.
Ivanova bowed his head. "Very well." He left to fetch the newest Death Eater, leaving Adriana to her pondering.
(Jasmine Serano) Planning
Author: Xiomara Sofia Serano
Date: 06-26-13 21:10
Mother was off doing something. Alexander was off somewhere else in the house dealing with things, and the house elves were no doubt off tending to their own duties along with the remainder of the staff. That, in and of itself, allowed me certain liberties and quite a bit of uninterrupted privacy.
Pushing myself upward from the chair where I'd done my schoolwork, leaving it for the tutor to look at when she arrived in the morning, I headed upstairs. Second floor bypassed, and I headed directly into the attic. Hidden carefully away was my secret, my small cauldron, and a variety of ingredients that would make the potion that needed to be added to the painting to weaken the binding agent placed upon it.
Door shut behind me, I went up the small flight of stairs and over to my small corner that was walled off by various boxes and trunks and things that shielded me from view, until someone was right upon me. It also allowed me to see when someone was coming toward me.
"I should be able to start the potion tomorrow, after my tutor leaves. Which means that it should be ready by Friday." I said lightly as I settled on the small chair near the painting that held my friend.
"Very good! Show me the ingredients once more, I want to make sure you've got them all, and they are the freshest possible." He said with a smile, he was looking forward to being out of the painting.
I quickly moved to gather the ingredients, showing him the parts and pieces that would be going into the cauldron in less than twenty-four hours, and become half of what would set him free of the painting he'd been trapped in.
"Very good Jasmine! Now, here is hoping that you have some aptitude in creating potions, because this one is not easy to create. But, I will help you through it as best I can."
I nodded my head and quickly hid the things that needed to be used for the potion. "You are going to keep your promise and still be my friend when you come out of the painting right?"
He nodded his head. "Of course, and it will be nice to be able to have an actual tea party with you once I am out of this painting."
I nodded and we talked and played for a little while, before ultimately I heard Alexander's footfalls in the attic, which meant that it was probably time for dinner, or Mother was home and wanted to see me. I'd been sneaking peeks at her journal, and she'd been shadowing some wizard for some witch, whose name I'd seen in the papers, and she wasn't a very nice person it seemed. But, then again, maybe it was the newspapers lying about her or something like that...it wasn't like I had met this Adriana woman and could judge for myself.
"Miss Jasmine, your mother is home and it is time for dinner."
"Coming Alexander."
I quickly did a check to ensure that things were tucked away, not to be seen if Alexander got too close to check on me, and the sheet was once more over the painting. By the time Alexander reached my little walled off haven in the attic, I was stepping around the trunks and things and meeting him in the little doorway.
"Do I have a moment to wash up before I join mother for dinner?"
"Yes, you've a few moments to clean up, your mother is freshening up before she herself comes to the table, but do not linger too long."
"Yes Alexander."
That said, I quickly ran to my room and double-checked that the book was hidden in the bottom of my wardrobe, in a secret compartment hidden there. Pleased that the book hadn't been discovered, along with the wand that was there that would be used in the spell that I'd have to cast. Shutting up the compartment, I quickly washed my hands and went downstairs to join my mother for dinner.
The Contemplation of Risk
Author: Abdul Hazrat AlGunud
Date: 06-27-13 16:36
The name on the door read "Roger Chainson, Accountant." It was not his real name of course, but he had been using it for so long that he had almost forgotten his true name. Unlike the name, the title was real. He was an accountant; complete with paying clients, ledgers and spreadsheets. The business was profitable; affording him a comfortable living and, more importantly, a legitimate cover for his less savory activities.
No one questioned the long hours spent meeting clients or the various and sundry correspondence he was constantly sending overseas. Even during the Smythe-Jones administration, no one at the Department of Magical Law Enforcement had displayed even one iota of interest in him or his business. His cover had ensured that he survived that most vicious, brutal and idiotic regime. Under the current minister, the atmosphere was more relaxed. This made his job easier. His sources were much more willing to meet with him. Plus it cost less to procure information from these sources.
He bustled about his office, filing paperwork and checking the security wards. He maintained a high level of security in the office. Ostensibly this was to safeguard client information. In reality, it was to alert him to any attempt at eavesdropping or surveillance. There was no evidence of any such efforts. Perhaps such extensive security was unnecessary. It did consume a considerable amount of time. He would need to consider the matter thoroughly.
Roger frowned as he found an error in a ledger. Mrs. Groves could not write down her investment in upgrades to her potion shop. How had he gotten that wrong? A few quick scribbles and the matter was fixed. He made a note to inform the client of this change.
Still frowning, he contemplated the need for such a high level of security. True, there was no evidence that he had been compromised. On the other hand, recent events had shown that the terrorism was rearing its ugly head. These events had been followed by an uptick in business (both legitimate and otherwise). There had been demands for additional information regarding the newly reconstituted Death Eaters cult. Some of the demand could be met by sources within the Ministry of Magic. Unfortunately, some information could only be obtained by cultivating sources within the organization itself.
Roger's frown deepened. He did not relish dealing with that lot. Maybe one of his contacts could provide an inroad into the cult. This would also provide a much needed cut-out. Insulating himself from the Death Eaters was essential. No, lessening security at this time would be the wrong move. If there was even a chance that the Death Eaters might gain power, Roger would need all of protection he could muster. He made a mental note to rehearse his escape plan to France. Just in case things went horribly wrong.
Catching Up
Author: Rowan Westwick
Date: 06-27-13 18:46
Laurel glanced up when she heard someone come up the stairs and smiled when she saw Rowan enter the dormitory room. The fourth year student looked a bit pink in the cheeks, either from having been outside following Herbology class or from the lengthy climb to Ravenclaw Tower. Rowan removed her book bag from her shoulder and set it on her bed. She began to turn away to leave the room again when her ancestress called out to her.
"No time to tell me how your morning went?"
Rowan paused and turned to look at the small portrait on her nightstand.
"It went fine," she replied, with a slight shrug. She moved around the bed so that she wasn't looking at Laurel through the open curtains and perched on the edge of the mattress. "I had a test in Defense Against the Dark Arts. I think it went okay."
A yawn suddenly escaped Rowan's lips, evidence of the lack of sleep she had gotten the previous night. Although she hadn't pulled an all-nighter to prepare for today's exams, she had slept fretfully. Rowan always got nervous before exams.
"Then I had an exam in Herbology. I think I did okay on it too."
"Good!" Laurel exclaimed. "You always get worked up about your tests, but they always turn out fine in the end. What is next for you?"
"Three more classes today, two tomorrow, and then I'm free."
She and Willow were going home for Easter. The Finches had promised to take them to see their father. Linden Westwick remained in a holding cell at the Ministry of Magic, pending his trial, the date of which had recently been set.
"Wonderful!" Laurel said. She appeared to lean on the bottom frame of her portrait, with one elbow down and her face cradled in her hand. "Well, I am sure you are hungry and eager to go to the Great Hall, so I will leave you to it."
"Thanks," Rowan said. She started to get up, but then she stopped and asked, "You haven't heard anything, have you?"
Rowan knew that Laurel sometimes left her portrait. Maybe she had gone somewhere and gotten news about Ash.
Laurel's smile faded and she shook her head. "I'm sorry, Rowan. I don't have any news for you."
Rowan also frowned.
"But no news is good news, my dear. Don't fret. Go eat your lunch and worry not over the fate of your brother. He will be his old self again when he's ready. I'm sure of it!"
Rowan tried to feel better, but she was too eager to see Ash again as the boy she remembered, not as the little doll that had spent months in the mouth of a toddler.
"Go," Laurel stated.
"I am," Rowan finally said, rising to her feet at last. "I'll talk to you later."
"Yes, later," Laurel agreed.
She watched Rowan move to the door and listened to her retreating footsteps.