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Meeting Someone New
Author: Carys
Date: 11-17-14 18:44
Carys walked into the university bookstore to exchange a book she had mistakenly purchased for one of her classes. To be fair, the mistake hadn't been entirely hers. The book had been listed under the course in question on a shelf marker in the store. It wasn't listed on the information she had gotten from her professor, however, and though Carys had had the official list of required textbooks in her pocket while buying her books, she'd not bothered to double check it before making her purchases.
Luckily, the return process was easy and she was in and out of the bookstore in no time at all. She made her way to Yellow to grab a bite to eat. After moving through the queue at the salad bar, she sat down at a smallish table and opened a book Juliet had recommended she read. It was a romance novel, but it had a really engaging storyline. Carys was hooked.
She ate and read undisturbed for a while, but then a shadow fell over her book and she heard an unfamiliar voice say, "Hi. Mind if I sit here?"
Carys looked up to see a tall, somewhat good-looking guy towering over her table. He was roughly her age and was dressed and groomed in a way that seemed lazy but fashionable at the same time. Because there were so many empty tables in Yellow, several nearby in fact, Carys must have looked puzzled.
The guy smiled and explained, "I'm new here, and I don't know anybody. I was supposed to have a roommate but he never showed, and now I'm in this room all alone. I registered a bit late and couldn't get into any morning classes, and I also overslept this morning so skipped breakfast…" He finished his ramble with, "This is pretty much the first human contact I've had since arriving at St. Emrys."
Carys offered him a small smile and indicated to an empty chair at her table. "My name is Carys. What's yours?"
"Owen, and thanks." Owen sat down and made himself comfortable. Carys, meanwhile, closed her book and tucked it back into her bag.
"Oh, was I disturbing you?" Owen asked, genuinely concerned he was bothering her with his presence.
"No, it's fine," Carys replied. "I read when I'm alone if I have a good book with me, but I don't mind talking over lunch. Where are you from, Owen?"
"Wales, originally, but I moved to the mainland when I was pretty young and went to school there."
"I'm from Cardiff," Carys said with a smile. "Where did you go to school?"
Owen leaned forward conspiratorily and said, "Durmstrang. The school has a bad reputation, but I think they just want it to seem like a mysterious place. At the end of the day, it's just like any other school. We got to class. Write tests. Have meals together. Play Quidditch… Do you play, Carys?"
"Not anymore," Carys said, "but I played keeper when I was in school."
"At Hogwarts?"
"Yeah. What about you?"
"When I was really little, my older brother attacked me with a bludger. He was just messing around, of course, but it really traumatized me. I tried playing when I got older but I just couldn't do it. I sometimes wouldn't even watch the matches."
"That's too bad," Carys remarked with a small smile. "I think it's both fun playing and watching."
"Why don't you play anymore, then?" Owen asked.
Carys shrugged. "Life happened."
"Ah, life," Owen mused, as if he understood fully what Carys meant.
They started talking about what they were studying, and time passed so quickly that it was soon time for both of them to leave Yellow for their respective classes.
After they exited the cafeteria, Carys wished Owen good luck and then turned the other way down the corridor. Owen seemed really nice and was easy to talk to, but what struck Carys the most about him was the fact that he kind of reminded of her of somebody. She just had no idea who.
Emerson Sighting
Author: Jet
Date: 11-17-14 20:15
Arriving early to a history lecture, Jett gets a quill, ink, and parchment then sits thumbing through the textbook, hoping the course will be as interesting as it sounds.
"This seat taken?"
Without looking up, he shakes his head. "Not that I know of."
A familiar perfume assails his nostrils as the woman sits. Jet does look up then. He breathes in the scent, certain it's one he remembers all too well.
"What do you want, Emerson?"
Lips perfectly done in a pinkish purple hue curve into a smile of discomfort. "You must have me confused with someone. My name's Abigail."
"Right. Abigail. An actual student for this class or did you randomly select someone to use for the polyjuice?"
"I have no idea what you're talking about. Of course I'm an actual student for this course. Why else would I be here? You know, I should probably move to a different seat."
"I know it's you, Emerson, so just cut the shit."
She takes a deep breath, eyes darting about as if considering flight to another seat or out of the room entirely. They land back on Jet, all effort at dissembling draining before his own eyes. "How did you know?"
"I just did."
Jet isn't about to admit it's her unique, made just for her perfume. She might try something like this again and he's not going to purposely aid her endeavors.
"It's the lipstick, isn't it? I knew I should have gone with something else."
"Yeah, sure. Your lipstick." Jet's delivery is flat. His tone is equally flat when he asks, "Why are you here, Emerson?"
"I love history. Why else would I be here?"
Jet gives her a hard stare. He doesn't have to say anything for her to know he doesn't buy it.
Her voice takes on a sweet note when she leans into to say, "I shouldn't have to tell you why I'm here."
"It's gone. Experts from the Ministry fixed me all up."
"I think you're the one being less than truthful now, Jet."
"Give me veritaserum and I'd say the same thing."
"I believe you, dear, about as much as you believe me."
Emerson stands, a satchel in one hand. "Now that you've made me, I suppose it's in my best interest to be going. I'll see you again soon, Jet."
Seething, Jet watches her go. If not for so many people already in the classroom, he might have done more than just exchange a few words with her. As Emerson wouldn't have come in here without some contingency that might possibly harm others, he didn't want to chance calling attention to her being on the Ministry's person of interest list.
Debating whether to immediately report this contact with her or wait until after class is over, Jet ends up waiting. Emerson is long gone and there's no reason for him to miss the class on its first day.
Getting A Head Start (Etta)
Author: Jared
Date: 11-18-14 20:16
Eyeing the growing stack of books in front of Etta, Henry Appleton says, "Tell me again why I'm here instead of getting some dinner."
"Because we want to get a start on figuring out a topic for our papers."
"It's only the first day of term so I think we could get food and not fall horribly behind on something that's not due until near the end of term."
"If you want to go eat, then go. I really want to get this done so I'm staying."
"I'll go to one of the campus canteens. I'll be back after."
Etta finally looks up from the book she's been making a quick scan of. "You don't have to that, Henry. Go somewhere you really want to go and get something you really want or go on home and eat there. You don't have to hang about on my account."
"We might not be going out any longer, Etta, but we're friends. I'm not going to leave you to get home on your own."
"There's a floo nearby and there are those volunteers to walk people; plus, the person causing all those problems that led to the volunteer group being formed has been arrested."
"That doesn't mean there aren't others out there. The floo isn't far but a lot can happen. I'm coming back."
"If you insist but it's really not necessary, Henry. Thank you for caring but don't let me keep you when you're wanting to be elsewhere."
"A half hour to an hour. You'll probably still be here so I will be back. Maybe I'll even get a little more work done."
Etta offers him a smile that grows to a grin when he makes a silly face at her. "No more than an hour," he says with emphasis then he takes off, even leaving his things behind, most likely reinforce that he definitely is returning.
A few minutes later a shadow falls across the table. "Back so soon, Henry?"
"I am not sure I know a Henry. You are Basil's cousin Etta, no?"
Surprised at the unfamiliar female voice Etta once more looks up from her work. "Yes, I'm Etta." She squints slightly, more out of dredging up a memory than from poor vision. "And you're Lluvia."
Lips curl into a smile. "Basil speaks of me?"
"He mentioned you once or twice and pointed you out once."
Lluvia spots Henry's bookbag. "Basil is here?"
"That looks similar to Basil's but it's not his. I don't know if he's around the library tonight or not. I've not seen him if he is."
Clearly disappointed, Lluvia's smile has become a pouty frown. "That is too bad. I had thought to see him today but he was not in any of my class today. Perhaps tomorrow."
"I don't know Basil's schedule this term, or at least not yet."
Those lips turn up slightly as Lluvia asks with hope in her voice, "Is Basil single yet?"
"Not unless he's broken up with his girlfriend since I saw them Saturday evening."
"That is too bad. Horrible to say but as I am not seeing anyone, it is difficult not to wish Basil free for at least one date." Lluvia shrugs, looking decidedly unapologetic. "I will leave you to your studies. Nice to meet you, Etta."
Rather than repeat the sentiment as it wouldn't really the truth, Etta says, "Have a nice evening, Lluvia."
When Henry returns not quite forty-five minutes later, Etta has made progress in narrowing her choices for the paper's topic despite having an ongoing mental debate on whether to mention to Basil the conversation with Lluvia.
Under New Management
Author: Professor Severus Snape
Date: 11-19-14 17:00
Professor Severus Snape sat alone and in the shadows at The Three Broomsticks, dressed as he always was, in black.
Before him and between his pale hands in an almost fragile glass, was a glowing green liquid that swirled tightly in the glass. As he held it lightly, that glass, his dark eyes stared deeply into the liquid before him, yet it was his minds eye that was seeing something that was much, much further away Images of a long ago time when life was much less complicated and so much more innocent... And as the image in his minds eye faded into mist and began to reform into something else entirely, Professor Snape wanted nothing more then to be left alone with his drink, his thoughts and most importantly, his memories.
Sighing ever so slightly, he broke his respite and raised the glass to his lips, drinking that glowing green liquid quickly, only to call for another. Because on a night such as this one wanted la fée verte close. And when the new glass arrived, just as he was reaching for it... "I don't care! If they're not a pureblood, then they're nothing!"
Nodding to his server, as she walked away, Severus raised an eyebrow and looked in the direction of the loud and drunken wizard who had vocalized his vox populi, even if others didn't agree with his opinion. Seeing that the wizard was one of no consequence, at least not to him, Snape simply returned his eyes to the glowing green liquid drink before him to once more look deeply into the glass of spirits and drift to the visions within.
A moment later the loud voices from before escalated into a full blown shouting match between two wizards, drawing every eye in the room. Snape didn't know either of them, yet it didn't matter. What did matter was that on the one side, one of the wizards kept shouting about how pure-bloods were the superior witches and wizards. On the other, tolerance, to a degree, even if that opinion too was being shouted. Shaking his head, if Snape didn't know any better he would have said he had just ridden the time-turner back to an era he wanted no part of. Sighing again and draining his glass of absinthe, Snape got up from the table to de-escalate the argument.
"Excuse me, gentlemen," Snape began as he neared them both. "Perhaps this spirited conversation should be taken outside," he said, indicating the front door.
"Snape!" the louder and more aggressive of the two wizards said, his eyes filled with ire at being interrupted. "You should mind your own bloody business!"
Instantly, Snape felt his pulse quicken and his chin drop more closely to his chest, his eyes locked hard onto the fool before him. Yet, taking a deep breath, he set his personal desires for the moment aside, and breathed deeply.
In a more firm tone of voice, "I think it would be best," Snape said, "if you were to move this conversation out side. Now..." The last he said very firmly and in expectation; one that should not be ignored. Then placing his hands on each of their shoulders, he began to usher them both toward the front door.
"Don't you touch me, you filthy, mudblood!" The next few moments were a blur to those in the pub, yet Snape saw it happening as if in slow motion... The less aggressive wizard jumped back and away immediately, wanting no part of this confrontation.
The more aggressive wizard however made what could have been a mistake. And if Snape had been the man he was some fifteen years ago, that mistake would have proven fatal. Today however was another day. And even as this wizards mistake was to aggressively begin to produce his wand, it was being produced against a wizard who was instructor at a wizarding school.
Truly, the man was out of his mind.
Reacting on pure instinct, as Snape saw the wizard moving, his eyes full of wrath and his lips full of a hurting spell, Snape himself pulled his own wand in a flash and "Expelliarmus!" sent the other wizards wand flying away, somewhere behind him.
"Aresto Momentum!" Snape cast next, causing the wizards physical movements to be greatly slowed... "And now that I have you exactly where I want you," Snape said, looking at the purest-propagan spouting wizard before him with some disgust, "Confundo," Snape said as he cast a third spell, causing the wizard to become susceptible to his suggestions.
"Now run along home," Snape said to the wizard before him. "And rethink what is truly important in your life."
Watching the wizard run out the door, Snape sheathed his wand and turning around, was bathed in both applause and cheers of 'Good work!' and 'Well done!' Taken aback, after Snape recovered he fetched the defeated wizards lost wand for safe keeping. Even Madam Rosmerta approached the professor some short time later to tell him his drinks for the rest of the night were on the house, "For stopping that messy affair before it truly got out of hand," she said with a nod.
Thanking her for her kindness, Professor Snape did avail himself of one last drink before calling it a night. Patrons at The Three Broomsticks were still impressed with his magical prowess as he headed toward and out the door, yet Snape thought they were all to easily impressed. It was nothing, really, what he did, other then to keep the peace. And as he moved through the streets, he started thinking about how serious the tensions were becoming allover.
Unpleasant Distractions
Author: Elladora Kingsley
Date: 11-19-14 17:04
A mouse scampered across the street here in Hogsmeade. It stopped to pick something up from between the cobbles and nibble it. It was this moment of stillness that was regretful. By the time it looked up, whiskers twitching wildly, the ferret pounced and had the squealing rodent clamped in its jaws.
Elladora sighed as she watched it proceed to feign the mentality of a cat; releasing then pouncing on its prey again. She was so engrossed in the display that as the door to a shop swung open, it hit her clear in the face, knocking her down.
"Bugger it all!" she yelled, scrambling to get off the ground.
"My apologies, I didn't see you there," a man offered as he simultaneously offered a hand to help her up.
She swatted it away and hoisted herself up, dusting off your robes. "Well perhaps you should learn to pay attention," she stated as she looked up at him. "Though I can see how it might be difficult to see past that enormous nose of yours," she added in rude jibe.
The man, clothed in long black robes, had stringy, greasy black hair and a hawkish nose perched upon his jaunty, sallow face. His face also developed an expression as though he had just tasted something rather foul as she spoke. "I BEG your pardon?" he asked, over-enunciating every syllable.
Elladora waved him off as she straightened her hair. "Never beg, dear. It's unbecoming," she replied haughtily. "Probably beneath even you."
"Well..." he replied, squaring his shoulders, "Perhaps I did someone a favor. Clearly more than a few people probably owed you that unfooting."
She raised an eyebrow and gave him a mirroring expression of acrid distaste. "Do you realize whom you address?"
"Do YOU?" he pried.
"No, but the difference between you and I is YOU should care." She smiled thinly. "Good evening... or at least it will be now," she added, saluting him in mocking as the ferret climbed her robes to perch atop her shoulder. With that, she turned to go. She had business to attend.
(Adriana) Legacy
Author: Bill Weasley
Date: 11-20-14 13:31
Adriana lay in her bed, surrounded by pillows, and thought about her legacy. It had taken the love and devotion between one of her followers and that follower's child for Adriana to realize that she, too, wanted an heir. Only, her heir would not grow up with his mother. Her child would live a normal, carefree life, just as Adriana had herself. One day, when the time was right, this child would become the man he was born to be.
"Are you sure?"
The voice came from across the room and belonged to Alexander. He cradled the perfectly healthy baby boy in his arms. The baby was sleeping and swaddled in a royal purple, plush blanket.
Adriana hesitated. She had not wanted to see or hold her baby for fear that her weaker self would emerge and decide to run for the hills with her newborn. All she asked Alexander to know was the sex of the baby and if he was strong.
"If it's as you say, then you may never again get the chance," Alexander said before Adriana could answer his question.
Still, she hesitated. Adriana knew that this child was the reason she had at times seemed unlike herself. An innocent in her womb, despite the enchantment placed upon him, her baby had made it possible for the enchantment Anne Potter had placed upon her to weaken. Perhaps because Adriana no longer nurtured him, since he could sustain his own life now, the baby would not have the same effect on her.
She finally turned her head in Alexander's direction. He was turned slightly so that she couldn't see the baby in his arms. He met her gaze questioningly but didn't say anything else.
"Yes, I'd like to see him," Adriana said.
Alexander turned and began his approach to Adriana's bedside.
"Would you like to hold him?" Alexander asked.
Again, Adriana hesitated, but then she held out her arms. Alexander carefully settled the baby into her arms and then took a step back so that mother and baby had a moment together.
The maternal feelings Adriana thought she might feel, the instinct to want to never let go of her child, never came. Instead, she felt a sort of maternal pride. She had created someone to follow in her footsteps, and knowing that someone else would be there to pick up where she left off when the time came was a very gratifying feeling.
She smiled down at the sleeping baby and told Alexander, "Send for Ivanova."
Alexander slipped from the room without having to be told twice and brought Natalya into the room a moment later. Adriana beckoned Natalya forward and offered her the baby.
"Are you sure you are ready, my Lady?" Natalya asked.
Adriana said, "Yes. I'm ready for things to go back to normal around here. You know where to deliver him."
Natalya bowed her head and settled the sleeping baby into a basket, which she covered with a cloth napkin so that it looked like she was carrying out a basket of baked goods instead of a newborn baby.
Once they were gone, Alexander turned back to Adriana, who was staring at the closed door with a look he couldn't quite decipher.
Special Delivery
Author: Lysander Stratford
Date: 11-20-14 15:51
The weather having been dreary though lacking any precipitation, Lysander thought it felt like a night for soup. He polled Charlotte on what she wanted and was told "Cheesy soup." Cheesy soup turned into broccoli cheese soup. Lysander wanted to try a new recipe that included a dash of nutmeg, but discovered his cupboard to be lacking the needed spice. After checking Julian's kitchen pantry, Lysander decided to go to the one place he knew he could find nutmeg.
"I'm going to run to Briar's," he told Charlotte, who was sitting at the kitchen table and stealing bits of shredded cheese from a medium-sized bowl. "If you eat all the cheese, there won't be any left for the soup, and you'll have a stomach ache."
"I won't eat it all," Charlotte angelically replied.
"How about you don't eat any more?"
"Okay, I won't." She retracted her hand and looked at her father with big, innocent eyes. "I promise," she added.
Lysander studied her carefully and asked, "Do I need to bring one of the mirrors with me and check up on you?"
"No," Charlotte said, a little too quickly. "I won't eat any more, okay?"
Lysander wasn't convinced, but he nodded and said as he went to the front door and unlocked it, "I will be back in five minutes, tops. If you need––"
He stopped after opening the door and completely forgot his train of thought. On the landing of his flat was a basket, and it was covered in a thin cloth, almost like a blanket covering steaming basket of fresh dinner rolls. The only thing was the cloth appeared to be moving.
"Daddy?"
Lysander said, "Just a minute, Charlotte," and knelt by the basket. He started to reach for the cloth, but thought better for it and produced his wand, which he then used to lift up the cloth. As the cloth fell away, a baby was revealed. It was sleeping, but it appeared to be dreaming. It twitched and a little arm moved about.
"Deja vu," Lysander murmured to himself. Charlotte had appeared to him in the same way.
He suddenly felt a presence behind him and heard his daughter's sharp intake of breath. "A baby!" she gushed. "Can we keep it?"
Lysander lifted up the entire basket and carried it into the flat, setting it onto the table next to the bowl of cheese, which looked decidedly emptier. He carefully searched around the baby for a note, but there was none.
"Can we, Daddy?" Charlotte asked. "Grace has TWO babies. Can't I have ONE?"
"Charlotte, we don't know who this baby belongs to," Lysander said. "There might be someone looking for it."
"I hope not," Charlotte declared. "Is it a boy or a girl? Why's it so small?"
"I think we need to take it to St. Mungo's and contact the authorities," Lysander said.
Charlotte looked crestfallen. "After dinner?"
Lysander hesitated and then nodded. "Fine, but we'll skip the nutmeg this time. The soup won't take long to make."
Charlotte frowned and said, "But if it doesn't take long, then the baby will have to go away soon."
Lysander pulled her into a hug. "It might need a foster family, at least for a little while. It's just important that we do the right thing and make sure its real family hasn't reported it missing. We'll see what happens after that, okay?"
"Okay," Charlotte reluctantly agreed.
Charlotte kept an eye on the sleeping baby while Lysander prepared the soup. She had her fingers crossed that the baby would be hers to keep. Little did she know that he was actually her baby brother.