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Ravenclaw and Slytherin First Years
Author: Marzipan
Date: 11-08-13 17:09
Greenhouse 1 was where the first year Ravenclaw and Slytherin students found themselves for their very first Herbology class with Professor Ravenscroft. They sat around the large work table in the center of the room in alphabetical order so that their teacher would have an easier time learning their names.
Many examples of the most innocuous of magical plants were on the table, like dogflowers and leaping toadstools. More plants were along the windows, in large pots on the floor, on shelves, and hanging from hooks. There was so much to see, and for those students who had never seen them, it was all very magical.
There was also a portable chalkboard in the greenhouse, at the head of the table where Professor Ravenscroft stood. She had written her name and office hours on the board, since she was just as new to her students as they were to her.
She had already called roll and gone over the class syllabus, a copy of which every student now had.
"What is Herbology?" Professor Ravenscroft asked. She waved her wand at the chalkboard, so that the word and its definition magically appeared on the green surface.
"Herbology is the study of plants and fungi, both magical and mundane. For those of you who did not grow up in the wizarding world, you might think of it as being similar to botany. In fact, we will study some of the very same plants botanist study. Wizards have uses for mundane––that is non-magical––plants, as well."
She flicked her wand at the small desk in the corner of the greenhouse and summoned several items. "What tools do Herbologists use?"
The items landed on the main work table one by one. "The answer is, many of the same tools one might use for gardening." She picked up a trowel, work gloves, a hand rake. "And, of course, your wand."
She summoned over a small, open container filled with something brown and very smelly. The students nearest her all wrinkled their noses.
"The fertilizer we use is all natural. This is dragon dung."
A couple of students looked like they hadn't heard her correctly.
The introductory lesson went on very smoothly. Professor Ravenscroft awarded no points during this first class with the first years, having done all of the talking herself. She was very pleased to have held everyone's attention, however, since lectures weren't always as engaging as hands-on instruction.
While Professor Ravenscroft taught her classes, Carter and Vallon were experiencing their own very first day of school. Weston had seen them off in the morning (which had been a very tearful experience for all involved), and Marzi would pick them up during the small window between her next class and her office hours.
The end of her current class came quickly. Now it was time for lunch.
Yet Another New Family Member
Author: Coco Nutt
Date: 11-08-13 17:50
"Papa Wal, you've still not taken your pills."
Coco's grandfather waves a hand at her, "Come hopen this'un fer me, poppet."
Smiling at the endearment even though she's no longer a little girl, Coco opens the pill bottle and shakes out two of the blue capsules, handing them to Papa Wal. He's gotten another bottle open and the dosage he needs but there are three more to go. She starts on those three bottles as he begins taking the other pills. "I'm getting you one of those pill boxes so we can get your pills lined up for several days at a time."
Mitzi Bolt enters the room in time to hear Coco's statement. "I can do that today while I'm out. I should get one for me as well. I don't have many, yet, but sometimes I forget if I've taken them or not."
"Thank you, Mitzi. Is your pocket moving?"
Mitzi's hand shoots to a pocket. "Probably just something shifting. I've a tangelo and chapstick."
It's not lost on Coco that Mitzi didn't ask which pocket she'd meant or that the round bulge of fruit is clearly in the other pocket or that Mitzi is holding her hand in a way to shield the pocket behind it form view.
Mitzi is a grown woman and if she wants to be secretive about something in her pocket, so be it. Coco is just going to let it go. She kneels to give Cash and Zelda a little attention before leaving for work in Hogsmeade, standing back up almost immediately when Mitzi's pocket mews.
Mitzi gives an embarrassed grin. "You caught us. I'd thought you'd left already or I'd have waited a few more minutes to come downstairs." From the pocket in question she takes a tiny kitten small enough that Coco doubts its eyes have been open for long.
Stepping forward to better examine the kitten Coco asks, "Why would you hide her from me?"
"From me too," Papa Wal chimes in.
"I don't know. I suppose I didn't want to be a bother and because you've always had dogs."
Mitzi then explains, "I found it, her, yesterday afternoon coming from Clara's. I thought maybe the mother was moving her little but I went and checked two hours later and she was still there. I brought her home and have been feeding her with syringe."
"You should have let me know. I could have gotten her some proper formula. Let me take her with me. I'll give her a complete check up, get a better idea of her age, and when we come home I'll bring what she needs."
As Coco's saying this, she's kneeling with the kitten for Cash and Zelda to see.
"You don't mind?"
"I'm a vet. Of course I don't mind." This is said with a small chuckle. Standing again, holding the kitten close she smiles. "I should be going. Be thinking of a name."
Mitzi smiles in return. "I'm off as well with those errands and I wanted to check again to see if there's a mum cat looking around for her baby."
Papa Wal pushes out of his chair. "I s'pose that's me cue to take these two buggers fer uh walk."
As the word walk Zelda and Cash tap dance towards the kitchen, eager to get out and about. Papa Wal, acting as he always does that these things are a huge imposition, actually enjoys taking the two dogs out. Coco makes her goodbyes, also going into the kitchen to go out the backdoor to the spot from where she can disapparate without worry of being seen, the kitten held close to her chest.
Don't Disobey
Author: Bronwyn Dewhurst
Date: 11-08-13 18:39
When the door to her little room opened, Bronwyn looked up and saw Maybelle enter with a full-length mirror she propped up against the wall and an armful of clothes, which she magically suspended in the air as if an invisible rod and hangers were keeping them off the floor.
Bronwyn tried to avoid her reflection, but the mirror was positioned in such a way that she could see herself if she looked into it. The witch who looked back at her had a short, very messy and unprofessional haircut. She was no longer a blonde, either. Her captor had gone a bit wild with hair dye, making Desi's multi-colored style look positively normal.
"I need your opinion," Maybelle said, reaching for the first outfit. It was a thick, gray sweater dress with an asymmetrical neckline. She held it up to her body, turning first toward the mirror and then in Bronwyn's direction.
"Would you wear this?"
With a pair of boots and a scarf, yes, absolutely, Bronwyn thought to herself, but she kept her face neutral and said nothing.
Maybelle made a face to suggest she was only a little put out. "Come now, Bronwyn. I need you to cooperate with me. The sooner you do, the sooner everything will fall into place."
Bronwyn remained quiet.
In response, Maybelle's frown deepened. She suspended the dress in the air again and closed the distance between herself and the chair to which Bronwyn had been bound. She bent over so that her face was level with her captive's.
"When I ask you a question, I expect you to answer. If you don't, well…" She rose and whipped her wand in front of Bronwyn's face, causing a laceration on her cheek.
Bronwyn gasped, and her eyes teared up from the stinging pain.
Maybelle stared down at Bronwyn. "Have I made myself clear?"
Bronwyn made a noise of assent.
"Good," Maybelle said, turning back to the clothes. She reached for the dress again and held it up to her body, posing in front of Bronwyn. "Well? Would you wear this, and more importantly, would Toby like it on you?"
Bronwyn nodded her head and slumped her shoulders in defeat.
(Caleb) Tea with Celeste
Author: Celeste Quigley
Date: 11-09-13 08:13
The first day of classes went well for Caleb. He only had classes until 1.30 pm, and so he had the free afternoon. Since the homework was light he had planned to go to the grounds with Sophie and Estine, to enjoy the pleasant autumn weather while they could. However, he had to leave the grounds earlier because his aunt Celeste had invited him for tea at her living quarters, on the sixth floor.
Caleb used a shortcut to reach the upper floors faster and he couldn't help to feel glad that he was no longer one of the youngest students at the castle. He recalled how hard it was at first to find his respective classrooms and how the moving stairs used to frustrate him. But now the stairs' movement was familiar and he could almost walk around the castle with his eyes closed. Caleb couldn't help to feel a sense of superiority this morning, when he saw a group of first years trying to figure out where they would be having their Charms class.
He knocked to his aunt's door and he was given permission to enter. Being one of the Astronomy teachers, Celeste only had classes in the evening, and since she had no classes yet, she didn't need to be at her office correcting essays, helping out a student or preparing the upcoming classes.
Rare had been the occasions Caleb had entered her aunt's living quarters and he would always be surprised by how different it looked from the rest of the castle because of the decoration. He thought that the same thing happened with the other teachers that they tried to give their unique touch to their divisions to make it feel more like home.
He greeted his aunt and sat on the sofa, while Celeste occupied an armchair, which was usually used by his uncle Eugene. He wasn't present and Caleb concluded he was still in Hogsmeade, at work.
"So, how has been your first day?"
"Good," Caleb replied, shrugging his shoulders.
Celeste used her wand and the teapot poured hot tea into two cups. One of them flied into Caleb's direction and he used his own wand to levitate a spoon full of sugar into the cup. Wingardium Leviosa was indeed a very useful spell, he thought.
"I like this Transfiguration teacher better than Flint."
"Professor Flint, Caleb. Have some respect, please," his aunt corrected him. However, she didn't seem mad with his lack of manners, at all.
"Of course we only had one class with Professor Mockridge so far, but it was interesting. I heard she is Valeria Mockridge's grandmother, a Slytherin girl from my year. My friend Ector is afraid she might benefit her and give her better grades than the rest of us. But I told him that if that was so Headmistress McGonagall wouldn't even consider hiring her."
Celeste nodded in agreement. She then asked Caleb if he was considering trying out for the Ravenclaw Quidditch team. She had seen him flying on her property during the summer holidays when he had stayed with her and Eugene and she believed he had some talent.
"Sophie feels the same way. She keeps pushing me to try out, but not for beater. She says I'm too light and I can't even hold the bat properly."
Both of them laughed. Caleb put his teacup down and picked up a biscuit that was on a plate at the center of the table.
"But I feel that I'm still a bit young to join the team. I want to improve my flying and my technique. I want to make sure I am prepared. I don't want to go to the pitch and make a fool of myself in front of the entire school."
"Those are valid arguments. If that's how you feel, then I will not be the one pushing you in the other direction. That said, I would be very proud to see you playing one day."
"Maybe next year," Caleb said, but he made no promises.
There was another thing that stopped him to try out, that he was ashamed to admit: he was afraid that if he made the team he wouldn't have much spare time to dedicate to Gobstones. Caleb loved that game. Unfortunately it was considered very childish and his mother had even asked him when he would grow out of it. He thought it was unfair to the game because it required some thinking, practice and technique. It wasn't as simple as it seemed and it deserved more popularity among the wizarding world. Caleb was even considering joining the school's Gobstones club this year.
The conversation proceeded and the time passed very quickly. Between the two they had eaten all the biscuits on the plate. Caleb said goodbye to his aunt and as he went to the Ravenclaw tower he wondered if he would have still room in his stomach for dinner.
Museum Caper (Bellatrix & Co.)
Author: Lucius Malfoy
Date: 11-09-13 19:59
"You're sure this will work?"
Bellatrix says nothing. Gudrun snorts derisively. "Since when were you such an bleeding big girl's blouse?"
Glaring, Barty defensively retorts, "I am NOT a wimp."
"You're always voicing worries, always acting like you're afraid of getting your hands dirty. Namby pamby. Thank Merlin the Dementor's Kiss did not suck out my backbone along with my soul."
Barty's wand comes out. "Take that back."
"Make me."
Before Barty fires off an Imperius, Bellatrix shoves his hand so the wand points to the floor. "Enough! Both of you. Put the wand away. This will work if you two bickering children shut your gobs."
Bellatrix straightens her tie and puts on the cap that goes with the security guard uniform. "I'm going in. Barty, two minutes behind me. Gudrun, a few seconds after Bartie. Don't forget the procedure once inside. Just as we practiced."
"I still don't understand why it's called punching."
Barty smirks at Gudrun. "Always were a bit of a clot."
"I said enough! Next one gets Crucioed. Crucioed and left behind without your wand with the Polyjuice Potion wearing off."
Spinning on her heels, huffing with anger and exasperation, Bellatrix emerges from the alleyway and crosses over to walk up half a block. At the employees only entrance of a museum she presses a button. Several seconds pass during which she has an urge to repeated press the buzzer. In keeping with the procedure they'd learned she looks into a camera, attempting not to look overly impatient with what's a relatively short wait. Hearing the lock disengage, she steps back a little to allow the door to properly swing open enough to allow her inside.
A nod and a gruff thanks to the security guard who opened the door and Bellatrix is walking the memorized route to where the clock is with time cards kept in slots next to it. Finding the correct one, she puts stamps the time on it, or so she hopes. With that thought she gives an almost imperceptible shake of the head. She's gone through the motions properly. What does it matter if the time card is actually stamped correctly?
From the clock she goes into a staff type lounge/break room, pouring herself a cup of coffee then sits thumbing through a discarded newspaper. From there she ambles out, sipping the coffee, making her way through the behind the scenes part of the museum. At a door leading into the museum proper she finishes off the coffee then drops the crumpled cup into a dustbin before pushing through to a museum where the last of the gawkers will soon be ushered out.
Bellatrix makes for an information center where a security guard has a three-sixty view of this portion of the museum and where there are several small mounted under the counter type monitors giving constant feeds of various parts of the museum. She nods at the guard. "Evening, Patrick. How are things?"
"Quiet, though morning shift did have a couple of thirteen year olds skivving off from school who thought they'd have a laugh trying to touch every statue with bare breasts."
Bellatrix laughs as expected. Patrick taps his watch. "About that time." The information volunteer gets on an intercom and announces the museum is closing. Bellatrix turns to the left and begins walking from the central area to a wing where, as museum security guard Richard "Dick" Atwell, will ensure any museum patrons are heading for the exit. Unless Barty and Gudrun are still bickering and if they are sticking to the protocol, they both will either be doing the same elsewhere in the museum or soon will be.
When the museum is clear of visitors, volunteers and employees, including the security guards going off shift, begin trickling out at first and then leaving in a fairly steady stream. The night time lockdown procedure is gone through, Bellatrix making sure not to miss a single step. To do so could trigger an alert and have the head of security sent an automated call or, worse, the local bobbies notified. If that were to happen, she doesn't know if there'd be time to retrieve the item without damaging it and get out.
The security safeguards within the museum are why she didn't simply apparate in, grab what she's after and go. There are cameras recording everything with the footage or tapes or whatever it's called in a completely different location with backups saved to a computer system somewhere else entirely. None of the night guards seemed to know where specifically these locations were or else Bellatrix would have paid each location a visit and destroyed everything after apparating in and out. That option off the table, Bellatrix had to come up with something else.
Using Accio to summon the item was also off the table. Having it careening through the building and coming out through a wall or door or window could damage it. Alarms would also be set off, with the police showing up before the artifact made it out. She couldn't take the risk of having to flee before having it in her hands. She's not afraid to get into a fight, especially with Muggles, but this is an instance if it can be avoided, it should be.
After running through other ideas and the pros and cons of each, the one they are implementing won out. Come is as the three night guards. Play the part of the night guards. When the museum is clear of everyone else use the system override they learned to lift the statuette off its small pedestal. Put the fake in its place. Re-engage the system before the backup system kicks in, a failsafe in case of power failure. Go through the motions of being on patrol, taking more Polyjuice as needed, until the morning people arrive. Clock out. The actual night guards show up tomorrow for work, memories altered, no one ever the wiser. Deliver the statuette to Fairchild. The only hard part is not being caught on camera taking the system offline and getting the statuette switched out before the backup engages.
Barty, being very much the big girl's blouse Gudrun accused him of being, harped for days on wanting to know why Fairchild would want an ancient statuette of Circe. Bellatrix finally told him if he wanted to know so bloody bad go ask Fairchild himself. He wouldn't do that, preferring to continue muttering annoyingly under his breath whenever he didn't think Bellatrix would hear.
When the time comes for the tricky part, Bellatrix hardly dares to breath until it's done, depositing the statuette in the box the fake that cradled the fake then stuffing it into a pocket with an extension charm. The statuette is far heavier than expected, making her glad the extension charm helps alleviate the extra weight. When Dick goes on break, she'll move it from the pocket to the small purse Gudrun's Joelle Henley brought in. It's got a hidden pocket with an extension charm. When they leave in the morning, patted down and the purse searched for anything the guards shouldn't be carrying out, such as gift shop items or old coins lifted from one of the storerooms, the box won't be noticed and the purse won't feel as if it weighs oddly out of proportion with what the visible contents indicate it should.
Finding it extremely easy to appear on the security feeds as bored as a night guard who's held the same job for seven years would seem, Bellatrix goes about Dick's rounds, stopping from time to time to chat with either Barty or Gundrun when their paths cross. When morning comes and the shift ends, the three leave shortly after each other, relieved to be done with the museum and to soon have done with the mission as well.
(Catesby Castle, Cornwall) Return of the Prodigal
Author: Callandra Catesby
Date: 11-10-13 07:29
Long, whippy tendrils covered with thorns wrapped around the dead wizard's body and began to drag him along the crowd with a creepy 'rustle, rustle' noise. Exactly which of her ancestors had decided to cross-breed a particularly carnivorous strain of the Venomous Tentacula with a wild rose, Callandra Catesby did not know, but the result made a useful clearance system for inconvenient corpses.
She looked at the sleeve of her robe, made a moue of disapproval at the sight of her torn cuff and used the wand that had so recently dealt the killing blow to repair it. Then, tucking the wand away, she picked up a wrapped bundle and headed briskly towards the entrance to Catesby Castle.
She would need to revise her plans, she decided. She had intended to remain at the Castle for a time; her parents prolonged stay in France and her sister's residence in London would have been very convenient. Her unexpected travelling companion had altered the complexion of matters though. He had grabbed her sleeve as she disapparated in Romania, tearing her cuff and inadvertently causing himself to be brought along with her. Really, she thought, he had his death coming to him. Some people had no consideration for others.
His actions though meant she needed to move with haste. His colleagues would be looking for him and, whilst the Castle was Unplottable and had any number of anti-apparition and repelling charms upon it, sooner or later her hidey-hole would become a cage since the general location of it was not unknown amongst the Wizarding community. She needed to find somewhere less obvious to hide out. Somewhere she would not have to suffer the inconvenience of a visit from the Ministry's aurors either.
An idea shimmered into her mind. Yes, there. That might do. But first...
She hastened up the staircase to her tower bedroom. Her eyes narrowed a fraction as she neared the door. Someone had been inside. She went inside and checked the safe in the wall. It was empty.
"I hope you found them interesting, sister dear," she said aloud; only Cassandra could have opened the blood lock on the safe.
Fortunately, she had not come for the diary.
She drew her wand and tapped the back of the safe. Green sparks briefly illuminated the back wall. Then, with nary a squeak, another - previously invisible - door opened. A safe within a safe. One of the many countermeasures she employed to guard her secrets. Most people would, after all, stop once they had uncovered the first safe, never dreaming that yet another was concealed beyond it.
She withdrew the contents and dropped them on to a chair, along with the bundle. Clothes too, she thought, whilst she was here, and a few other necessaries. Fortunately, a small bag had long ago been modified with an Undetectable Extension Charm.
A short time later, she was ready. As she turned to go, she caught a glimpse of her reflection in the mirror. A small, wicked smile curved her lips.
"Look out, world. I'm back," she said, and laughed.
(Toby) Worried
Author: Beck
Date: 11-10-13 09:33
Toby looked a little worse for wear, and understandably so. His wife had been missing for over a month, and those looking for her had yet to come up with any clue indicating to her whereabouts or if she even still lived. This wasn't the first time Bronwyn had gone missing, but already having the experience of wondering where she was and if somebody had hurt her didn't numb him to the fact that she wasn't where she was supposed to be. She had never been gone this long.
He sat across from his brother's desk in the Auror Office, his hair unruly and his face unshaven. Anthony wished he had some news for Toby, but he had none.
"We're not giving up till we find her," Anthony said. "You know how Desi is. She's made the case her priority, and she's got Orion and his resources on her side. Bronwyn will turn up." He wanted to add that she would turn up alive, but he couldn't make that promise. No one could.
"I don't know what to do," Toby murmured.
"Stay busy so that you don't make yourself sick with worry."
"It's too late for that," Toby replied, "and I can't go on with my daily routine." With the Quidditch season having recently started up, Toby had requested a leave of absence. He would do the Falcons a disservice if he didn't have his head in the game, and he didn't want to hurt his team by playing badly due to feeling distracted and worried. Toby also didn't like the idea of having fun when his wife was MIA.
"Why don't you stay with Nana and Gramps for a while?" Anthony suggested, "or you can stay with me. Plum wouldn't mind."
"I'll think about it," Toby said, "but what if she turns up at home and I'm not there?"
Anthony nodded in understanding. "Just give it some thought."
Toby decided to take his leave. Anthony had work to do, and Toby didn't want to keep him from his cases––especially from working on finding Bronwyn. The brothers said their goodbyes, and then Toby left the Ministry of Magic.
Instead of going home like he intended, he went to Diagon Alley. Toby had no errands to run, that he could remember, at any rate. He simply wished to walk around and think, and he would rather not do so in his neighborhood or through the adjacent cemetery that would certainly put unwanted thoughts in his mind.
He walked the cobbled street in a daze, ignoring the street vendors that shouted their unmatched deals at him. Toby walked the entire length of Diagon Alley and then doubled back to retrace his steps, when a familiar perfume assailed his nostrils.
He froze and whipped his head around, in search of the source of the smell. Toby's eyes fell upon a woman in a sweater dress, exiting the bakery. She carried a box of pastries in her hands, and a fashionable wristlet handbag dangled from her arm. A curtain of blonde hair obscured her face, but then she turned and looked at Toby.
It wasn't Bronwyn, but it was someone he knew.
The witch looked at him curiously and then stepped closer to him. "Toby? Are you all right?"
Toby felt a mixture of emotions. All his hopes of seeing Bronwyn were dashed in an instant, like someone popping a balloon with a needle. He felt both jittery at the excitement of thinking he had just seen her, and completely deflated at realizing he had made a simple mistake.
"Maybelle," Toby managed, running a hand through his unruly hair. "Hi. It's been a while."
"Yes, I suppose it has. How are you?"
"Been better."
"I'm sorry to hear that. Is there anything I can do?"
Bring my wife home, Toby thought to himself, but aloud he said, "Probably not."
Maybelle gave a little frown and asked, "Well, how about I treat you to coffee or tea? You look like you could use a strong cup."
Toby found himself agreeing. He followed Maybelle back inside the bakery, where she ordered them each a cup of tea and a chocolate-covered pastry, and then they sat and talked at a small corner table.