|
|
Information
Author: Bill Weasley
Date: 09-04-18 18:23
With a groan, Bill leaned back in his chair and covered his eyes with his palms. He'd spent all morning working on bank reports to close out the month of August and would probably spend all afternoon on the task, as well. It was tedious work, made ever the more so because he'd not slept well last night. For no reason he could fathom, he'd found it difficult falling asleep and staying asleep. As a result, Fleur hadn't had a restful night either.
Since it was just around the time when he normally ate lunch, Bill decided to take a break and walk home. He got only as far as his office door when he ran into Lysander, who had come bearing a manila folder that had nothing to do with his personal or business bank accounts.
"Is this a bad time?" Lysander asked as he shouldered his way into the office without an invitation.
Bill, still standing at the door, pushed it shut and said, "I guess not." He walked back to his chair and sat down, indicating for Lysander to do the same. Lysander looked around the room as if seeing it for the first time and then sat. He set the manila folder down on Bill's cluttered desk and then leaned back in his chair with a smirk.
"What?" Bill asked.
"I found out who that Qadir fellow really is," Lysander answered.
Lysander had come to Bill after learning the name of the Khalid Adallah look-alike over the summer. They both had pondered the possibilities: Qadir was a follower of Khalid and was using the Adallah name and a similar appearance to psych out those who'd crossed the dead wizard; Qadir's surname truly was Adallah and it was a mere coincidence; or, Qadir was a relative of Khalid and had come to Hogsmeade to get some sort of revenge on his enemies.
"So, who is he?" Bill asked.
Lysander flipped open the manila folder. Inside were a few documents and a few photographs. "Qadir is Khalid's son."
Bill whistled. "It can't be a coincidence that he's come to town, don't you think?"
"Can we prove it otherwise, though?"
Bill leaned forward and tapped the top document in the folder. "Where did you get all this?"
Lysander shrugged. "I've got a lot of sources for when I'm looking for hard-to-find books. Some of those sources are good at finding other things for me." He grinned. "Don't worry your pretty––" He choked back laughter as his eyes took in Bill's facial scarring. "––Gryffindor head. I didn't do anything illegal to get this information. Now, what do you think we should do with it?"
"I think it wouldn't hurt to tell the authorities," Bill said after giving it some thought. "They might not have just cause to act, but then again, who knows? With the current climate, they might actually look into things."
Lysander closed the folder and slid it across the table, disturbing a few of the other documents already on Bill's desk. "I think it's better that you do it, given I acted a little rashly with our new friend and might not be taken seriously."
Bill picked up the folder and moved it on top of a cabinet behind him and then readjusted the work on his desk. "Fine. Is there anything else I can help you with, Stratford?"
Lysander smirked and got up. "Not at the moment. Keep me posted, will you?"
"Sure. You can see yourself out."
Lysander smirked again and left the office. Bill, meanwhile, stayed seated for a while and wondered about Qadir Adallah. He hoped that the wizard hadn't come to Hogsmeade to seek revenge, but giving him the benefit of the doubt wouldn't come easily.
Invitation To Join Drama Club (Alectrona)
Author: Harry Potter
Date: 09-04-18 20:28
Alectrona has made it through her first day of classes. With Argyll at that music school she has not had her older brother as a guide to who's who and what's what. Though having him gone ahead of her would have been nice it doesn't bother her. She's no different from any number of students who had no older brother or sister as a veteran of these hallowed halls. Having an elder sibling, or even a cousin, already in the know about all that is Hogwarts isn't necessarily a good thing when taking into consideration such stories as the one she heard on the train Saturday. Someone's older sibling had told the younger one that the Sorting Hat fastened to one's head with magical screws that bored into the skull and that the pain of it only last the first week or two.
As she sets her satchel beside her seat Lubert Lovejoy asks, "Did you write down the Charms assignment? I thought I had but don't see it. I usually have a good memory but it's not coming to me."
"Yes, here, let me get it so you see for yourself."
Alectrona roots in her satchel, pulling out a piece of embroidery to retrieve the notes she'd made for Charms. She hands Lubert the information and reaches for the embroidery, wanting to refold it more carefully.
A witch she knows is a professor but whose name she's not yet learned stops on the way to the head table. "That's lovely. A scarf?"
"Yes, a head scarf for my penpal Nefret."
"Your stitching is beautiful. Have you been embroidering long?"
"Six years. I saw an embroidered pillowcase at my grandmother's. I wanted to know more and studied it. She helped me get started with some basic stitches on my own pillowcase. Since then I've looked others up in books and figured them out myself." Alectrona hastens to add, "Mummy sews but doesn't embroider but she helps me as she can."
"Do you sew as well?"
"A little."
"Drama Club can always use people handy with a needle to do costuming. I do teach some sewing spells but like students working on the costumes to learn how to sew without magic so they can sew when away from Hogwarts if they wish. Even if you aren't interested in Drama Club I know a bit about embroidery and might be able to help you with new stitches if you ever need."
"Thank you."
The professor smiles broadly and continues on to the head table. Only when she's well out of earshot does Alectrona lean over to ask one of the older students, "If all professors were introduced at Saturday's feast I did not hear. Which professor is she?"
"That's Majandra Weasley, Lower Years Potions."
"We've Potions tomorrow," Lubert says. "You going to join that club?"
"I'm not certain but I may. I should find out all the other clubs available before making a decision."
"We've a Club Day later in the month," the older student helpfully informs them.
"Thank you, for the name and that we have a Club Day."
Lubert is holding out the Charms notes. "Here you go. Thanks. Pass those sandwiches, would you?"
Alectrona passes the sandwiches then repacks Charms notes and embroidery into her satchel, thinking that learning more sewing skills by working on costumes for Drama Club could be fun.
(Mark) Flat Finder
Author: Isolde
Date: 09-05-18 18:39
Mark left work early as agreed upon with his boss and went to Diagon Alley, where he met with Jane Smythe, a realtor from Perriwick & Fenford. They had exchanged owls a few times over the last few weeks and met in person once to go over his preferred amenities. Now, they were set to look at some properties.
After not quite three years of living with his mother, and thereby saving money, Mark was ready to flee the nest for a second time––and hopefully this time with Kate. Kate had graduated from St. Emrys in June, and after a bit of a holiday, had thrown herself into applying for jobs in and around her chosen field of interior design. She had several interviews lined up already and would hopefully get a job soon.
Mark didn't want to bother her with the question of whether she might be ready to move in with him while she was concentrating on jobs. He didn't think she would waver on her answer or shoot him down, but he knew it was an important decision not to be made lightly and also a big step for their relationship. Mark wanted to time everything perfectly, and if that meant waiting until Kate was settled into a new routine, then so be it.
"So Chinatown is most certainly out of the question." Jane's statement was made without any inflection, even though it was meant as a question.
"Definitely," Mark answered. He didn't want to move back to the neighborhood where he'd lived with Capri. Mark had no idea that she no longer lived there, or even in the UK for that matter.
"Okay. How do you feel about Diagon Alley in light of recent events?"
Mark shrugged. "He Who Shall Not Be Named only strikes there what––once every thirteen years? I think the odds are good that not much will happen there." He paused and scrutinized Jane. "You don't seem to have a problem working here."
Jane shrugged and said, "It's as you say. An attack isn't a daily or even yearly occurrence, and besides, I don't believe he's back. Someone's playing at being him to ruffle everyone's feathers." She tapped a folder containing information about local properties for them to visit. "That said, the market has gone down in this area. You can get good deals right now."
"So, let's have a look."
After visiting several available flats in Diagon Alley, including one above Floo-Pow, which Mark considered only as a sort of joke, given his career as a connector for the Floo Network, he decided to make an offer on the second floor flat above Scribbulus Everychanging Inks and Cogg and Bell Clockmakers. The tick tick tick and chiming of the different clocks could be heard through the floorboards, but a muffling charm should solve that issue. Otherwise, the flat was just perfect. It wasn't large, and it had a slanted roof like most attic spaces tended to, but it had character and the right amount of space for two young wizards starting out their lives together.
Storm (Artie)
Author: Charlie Weasley
Date: 09-06-18 18:00
Artie sits on his bed, rubbing his hand over the silky fur of a dark gray long haired kitten he's gotten as a surprise just before boarding the Hogwarts Express on Saturday. Schuyler, who chose to stay in Hogsmeade, also received a kitten but not until just before catching the cart that goes around the village. Also long haired but a luscious brown, Schuyler has named him Rye, saying the name goes with that of their dog Barley.
At King's Cross Mum and Dad had told Artie that Schuyler would also be getting a kitten but until he saw his brother that evening, sitting next to Schuyler after being Sorted, he'd not known what the other kitten looked like nor had he known that in the short time since receiving his cat and arriving at the castle with others in Hogsmeade who hadn't rode the train Schuyler already had named Rye.
During part of the train ride to Hogsmeade station, listening to Miranda convince others that she is cursed, doomed to repeat first year looking like an eleven year old too many times to even remember, Artie had thought a great deal of a name for his cat. After going with Miranda to the trolley for more snacks, he'd sat with the kitten in his lap while she slept, thinking her dark fur looked like a deeply gray storm cloud. The name Cloud crossed his mind but he just as quickly rejected it. Storm seemed a better suited name even though at the time she was sleeping so deeply and hadn't seemed to be moving that he kept checking to see if she was breathing.
When hearing he'd named her Storm Schuyler had made a face. "Storm is more for a boy. Don't you mean Stormy? That's more like a girl."
Almost violently shaking his head Artie had been adamant. "Storm. NOT Stormy."
"Whatever. She's your cat."
With her purring now on his lap Artie tells Storm, "I like your name." Storm head butts him, her purring increasing, front paws kneading into one of his legs.
They are interrupted when Tyler Casey and Tristan Hanham-Price come bounding in, both flinging their bookbags onto their respective beds. While he roots around in his trunk for clothes in which to practice Quidditch Tyler asks, "You coming to to the pitch after lunch?"
"Yeah, I just came to drop my books off so I can do straight after eating then Storm wanted attention."
Reluctantly moving Storm from his lap to the bed, Artie decides to get clothes better suited for playing Quidditch, following Tyler and Tristan out of their dorm. He has no aspirations to make the Gryffindor team this year but still wants to take part in the trials. With probably half the school, maybe more, wanting to get in practice time in hope of making their house teams, the three boys and a number of other first years are taking advantage of not having classes directly after lunch when so many others do.
Wednesday's Schedule [Libby & Edwina]
Author: Georgia Copperpot
Date: 09-08-18 18:26
Libby sits down beside Edwina. "I hate Wednesdays."
"It's the first Wednesday of term. How can you hate all of them?"
"I have class until 4:30."
"I have class until 1 a.m."
"Astronomy."
"Unfortunately. It's not that I don't like Astronomy but couldn't they magic a night sky for us during the day?"
"I've thought that myself a few times. I've got Astronomy on Thursdays this term."
"What goes until 4:30?"
"Fitness & Athletics."
"Ha. What you get for taking that class."
"It can be fun."
"You trying out for the Slytherin team?"
"Probably. Bertie and I have been getting in as much practice as we can."
"He's invited me to come watch but so far I've not gone. Maybe I'll watch tryouts though."
"Come cheer me on."
"For tryouts, sure, but once teams are chosen I'm Hufflepuff all the way. Unless Hufflepuff isn't playing that is."
Libby turns to look over the today's food selection. "We've Muggle Studies soon so I guess I'd better eat."
Edwina had been trying to decide what to have when Libby come over. Returning her attention to the day's lunch assortment, she decides on what looks to be a pork pie. After taking a slice she adds some au gratin potatoes and a mix of steamed carrots and broccoli while Libby goes with a toasted ham and cheese sandwich along with seasoned chips, both wondering what's become of Bertie. It's not like him to miss a meal.
Work Meeting
Author: Hermione Granger
Date: 09-09-18 08:16
Hermione drummed her fingers on the smooth, mahogany finish of the desk in one of the conference rooms in Parliament. She was supposed to brief the PM on the latest on-goings in the wizarding world, and though he usually followed his schedule to the minute, it was extra full today. Hermione didn't mind waiting, because it allowed her to think.
She thought about how in the two years she had been researching historic abbeys in all of Great Britain, she'd not come any closer to determining where the Death Eaters were headquartered. Adriana Fairchild might be dead and gone, but someone else was at the helm. Hermione didn't believe that Voldemort was alive, but she thought it was very clever of the Death Eaters to have him appear to be their leader. She just wondered who was behind the mask? Was it just one person, or were they rotating? Was there no apparent leader, and they were all working together for the dark cause, or were they keeping the true leader's identity a secret?
The door to the conference room opened, and in-stepped the PM with his entourage and a few other officials. "Sorry for the delay, Hermione. I hope you weren't waiting long."
"Not at all."
"Great." He sat down, picked up a pen, and poised it over a notepad despite the fact that one of his secretaries was there with him to take notes. "What news do you have for me?"
She told him about the progress, or lack thereof, being made in the aftermath of the attack on Diagon Alley. The PM listened without interruption, jotting down notes here and there, but then he put down his pen and regarded Hermione silently for a moment.
"I know you said it can't really be done," he began, "but knowing that magic is real makes it difficult for me to believe that the dead can't come back to life. Surely there's a spell, or a potion, or something for that."
Hermione pressed her lips together. "It's not that simple," she replied. "Yes, there are spells, and there's… well, there's this stone… but no one can be brought fully back to life. The Voldemort seen in Diagon Alley was described as appearing completely normal. Someone might succeed at giving him life again, but he'd be a shell of his former self, and why would they risk bringing him out in the open if he weren't totally sane? It can't really be him. It just can't be."
The PM pondered this for a moment. "For argument's sake, what's the first thing you'd need to resurrect somebody?"
Hermione shrugged. "His body."
As soon as she said the words, she realized there was something she needed to find out. She'd been present when Voldemort died on March 4, 2000, but she never knew what happened to his body. Perhaps Kingsley didn't know either, but Hermione planned on asking.
(Ramona) Paid Intern
Author: Griet
Date: 09-10-18 16:44
"So, what do you think?"
Ramona, dressed in her best office-wear, looked around the large warehouse with a smile. "I think I'm going to like it here, though I must confess, I'm terribly overwhelmed."
Amaryllis Roop laughed and said, "We covered a lot this morning, didn't we? But be honest with me, the tour was the best part!"
"It was," Ramona agreed, nodding.
Today was her first day working as a paid intern for the Comet Trading Company. After graduating from St. Emrys last summer, Ramona had spent every day searching for job opportunities in her field of interest. She was even prepared to do what Sadie had done a year earlier and get a job in a similar area just to get some experience before finding the perfect job, but then this internship came along.
Ramona remembered Ms. Roop from Career Day at Hogwarts. Perhaps she herself had put the broomstick designer bug in Ramona's ear all those years ago. At any rate, the pair had spent all morning together going through formalities, first with the Human Resources division and then regarding the expectations Ms. Roop had for Ramona's job performance.
After going through various parchmentwork, which included reviewing aspects of the employee handbook, the two toured the facility, which included the design room, a storage facility where materials were housed, and various workshops where things were processed and manufactured. There was even a site for test flights.
It was quite a lot to take in, and even though Ramona had taken business and marketing classes on top of those having to do with art and design, she felt like a little lamb lost in the woods. Ramona, former Ravenclaw, was a fast learner, though, and would no doubt get the feel of things soon. And with any luck, the internship would turn into a full-time position, and if not, then it would give Ramona concrete experience for a career at another company.
Case Closed
Author: Harry Potter
Date: 09-10-18 21:13
Harry pays the cab fare and emerges onto a quiet street of fashionable Georgian terraced houses thinking he can't remember the last time he made use of a Muggle cab. He hadn't been able to find a suitable spot on the map for apparating and the nearest tube station is a good stretch of the legs from his destination. He's heard of something new in London called Uber but though he tries to stay current with the Muggle World this Uber thing is new enough that Harry has no idea how he'd go about using it.
Checking some notes to make sure he's got the correct house number, especially when these terraces houses are so identical, Harry approaches the door looking for signs that someone is home. According to his notes the resident is retired but that doesn't mean the sitting around the house all day in the off chance someone happens to drop by.
Ringing the bell several times, letting a minute or so pass each time, Harry finally turns away. He'll get lunch, try to make inroads on another case. He'd like to make inroads on the Zeke Clarkly case but as that's considered active Harry isn't assigned. Then there are the cases kept led him to Zeke Clarkly. Harry is certain Clarkly was behind each of those murders but with Clarkly dead now the cases may be permanently be shelved as unsolved.
"Excuse me. Are you looking for me?"
At the end of the short walkway Harry had turned in the direction the cab had come. About two blocks back there is a shopping area with places to eat. The speaker had come from the other direction up the street.
Turning, Harry finds before him a stoop shouldered older gentleman who, despite the bent posture, towers over Harry. "I'm looking for Sam Brown."
"That's me." Mr. Brown lifts a sack. "There's a small market with the best tomatoes. I've a garden but had no luck with them this year so I've had to buy them. If I'd known how good this little market's were I'd have been getting them there all along."
As he's speaking Mr. Brown began walking towards his front door, clearly expecting Harry to follow. He makes quick work of unlocking the door. "Probably wondering why I haven't asked who you are. You're famous among our kind, Harry Potter. I expect you aren't actually looking for Sam Brown. I knew the jig might be up one day but I had hoped for longer."
As Harry follows the older wizard through to the kitchen he asks, "Should I call you Sam Brown or Humbert Rackharrow?"
"Much prefer Sam. Never thought I looked much like a Humbert."
Harry, taking a seat at a small table, produces a file. Tapping he says, "According to this Humbert Rackharrow vanished in 1982."
Sam Brown pauses in slicing tomatoes to turn to face Harry.
"That he did. You could say he died that day in April. What does your file say on that?"
"Boating accident, missing and presumed drowned."
"So why come looking for me after all this time?"
"A bond you had matured and your former wife wants to cash it in but your brother is arguing that there was no accident, implying she was behind what happened. He thinks the money should go to him and has also decided that your entire estate should have come to him."
"Odd he only just now wants it."
"Apparently, he made some bad investments and has gone broke."
"I would have never thought Rufus would do badly in business."
By this time Brown has placed tomato sandwiches in that table for Harry and him as well as lemonade. "Go on, did in. I made the bread."
They go quite for a moment as they enjoy the sandwiches. When Harry does speak he first says, "This is great, thank you. Because your brother has raised questions about what happened and is attempting to take control of any assets left from the estate you left, I was assigned to look into the case. The original investigation was cursory at best because at the time the incident was accepted as an accident. I don't know if a closer examination would have rendered a different verdict. I had no boat to exam for evidence."
"So what led you to Sam Brown?"
"Two days after the accident someone reported seeing Humbert Rackharrow. At the time it was put down as someone resembling you. It was all I had to work with so I started with the person who made it. She was waiting for the Knight Bus when she saw someone looking like you entering a house carrying a suitcase. If the report had been taken seriously, you might have been found much sooner. As it is, I'm lucky the estate agent's records showed who'd rented the house then."
The older man nods. "Sam Brown."
The woman who saw you, who made the report was positive she saw the man reported in the newspaper as missing and presumed drowned. When I spoke to her recently she was just as insistent. Sam Brown wasn't easy to trace from there but ,"
"But here you are so difficult but not impossible."
"I eventually found your owl post office box."
"I thought that better than going somewhere like Diagon Alley on a regular basis for newspapers and magazines."
"Why did you decide to disappear, try to cover all traces that you are alive?"
"You've met Chloe?" he asks of his former wife.
"Yes. Mrs. Olmsted," Harry uses her current married name, "is, um... She has a strong personality."
"I think you mean overbearing," Sam Brown chuckles. "I was increasingly unhappy but Chloe is religious and doesn't condone divorce. When I finally admitted to her that I am gay I thought at least she'd agree to an annulment if not divorce but she was having none of that. People would talk and she couldn't stand the idea of being the center of that sort of gossip. To make matters worse I'm not much of a wizard. I'm no squib but I've never been that good with spells or had much power. Potions I'm a fair hand with but that doesn't make me much of a wizard. Chloe always seemed embarrassed by my lack of ability. So, there I was married to someone who found me an embarrassment and who looked at me with disgust once I came out to her. I decided Humbert Rackharrow's death would save us both. I have a partner I am committed to - he's on a Doctors Without Borders trip - had a job I enjoyed and have since retired from. Chloe got the sort of attention she liked as the widow, remarried, and has children. I take it she's happy."
"She seemed to be."
"Chloe had no idea what I was planning. Better all around that way."
"What of your brother? He's thought you dead all these years and is now accusing Mrs. Olmsted of arranging the boating accident."
"Rufus and I were never that close. He's somewhat self-centered. You said he's gone broke. That is the only reason he's after what I left Chloe and the money that matured bond will bring. If he were still doing well, he'd never have said a word. Will I be prosecuted for faking my death?"
"I suppose charges of some sort are possible. If I didn't need to give proof that Mrs. Olmsted did not cause you to have that accident I'd write a simple report that there has never been any evidence of boat tampering and leave it at that. For now, let's try a signed statement from you."
"Will Humbert's being alive cause problems legally for Chloe's marriage?"
"Humbert was declared dead so legally Mrs. Olmsted was considered a widow when she remarried."
Over more tomato sandwiches Harry takes an official statement that Sam Brown signs. With the older wizard's permission, Harry disapparates from inside the house after thanking Brown again for the excellent sandwiches. There will be some follow-up and parchmentwork but for the most part this is one case Harry can consider closed.
#2
Author: Illyria
Date: 09-12-18 18:01
Nicholas Jenson Goode came into the world just before dawn. His mother went into labor in the wee morning hours, which caused a stir in the castle for those awake at that hour. Before Illyria and Nathan left for St. Mungo's, Ian was safely seen off into the hands of the house-elves who tended to the nursery in the castle during the daytime.
Sometime after Nicholas' birth, when mother and baby had gotten some rest, Nathan contacted his workplace and then went to Hogwarts to collect Ian. He informed Professor McGonagall of the happy news, who promised to relay it to the other professors at Hogwarts and to call Professor Grubbly-Plank into work. Then, it was back to the hospital so that Ian could meet his baby brother Nicholas.
Only thereafter did Nathan send owls to the various members of the Goode and Jones families. Now the hospital room was full of visitors waiting to take their turn holding baby Nicholas. Illyria's eldest sister Arsinoe and her husband Quin had been the first to arrive because they both worked at St. Mungo's.
"I almost feel claustrophobic!" Nathan joked, looking around at all the people, who were mostly related to his wife, crowded in the hospital room.
"See, now Ian will never know what you went through, growing up an only child," Illyria replied with a grin. Ian was entertaining his grandparents at the moment. Urania, meanwhile, was cradling baby Nicholas, who was sound asleep. Illyria wondered whether her second born would turn out to be a good sleeper or would never sleep like Ian did as an infant. She felt tired already just thinking about it.
Nathan noticed the look of lethargy that crossed his wife's face and said, "I think Illyria's ready for a nap. How about we go up to the tea room?"
He had to repeat himself a few times to be heard over the din in the small room. The various family members kissed Illyria and then departed from the room, with Urania placing the sleeping baby into the bassinet by Illyria's hospital bed.
Nathan took Ian's hand and told Illyria, "We'll be back."
Illyria smiled at the departing pair, looked over at her sleeping baby, and then closed her eyes and took a contented nap.
First Friday Morning Class
Author: Majandra
Date: 09-12-18 19:10
When the third year Gryffindor and Slytherin class began at 9:30 eyes widened when a smiling Majandra instructed, "No textbooks for notes for now."
With a large handled basket in hand she walks from station to station placing a box from the basket in front of each student. "Each box has an instruction card. Follow yours exactly. Don't bother looking to see what your neighbors might be doing because there are five different sets. You won't know if what your neighbor is doing is what you should be doing. Also in each box are some test tubes. Each is labeled to match what you will find in your instructions. You will notice that each box is numbered and your respective test tubes bear the same number. As soon as everyone has a box and begins I will come around and record which what number you have."
When everyone has a box Majandra returns to the front of the classroom. "You may open your boxes and begin. This is our longer period so you have plenty of time. There is no need to rush."
Grabbing her roll book, she goes from student to student both marking each present and writing down each student's box number. Once that's done she returns the roll book to her desk before slowly walking the room, stopping now and again to watch a student's work. A few minutes have passed when Akira Gunderson, who has gone to one of the ingredients shelves, turns and raises a hand.
Hurrying over Majandra asks in a low voice, "Yes, Akira?"
"This stopper is stuck, professor."
Majandra takes the glass vial of melaleuca oil and tries to remove the stopper. Sure enough the stopper is so tight if Majandra didn't know better she'd think it was glued. That puts her in mind of Peeves. It's something the poltergeist might do but as other jars, vials, and containers seem to be opening fine she doubts Peeves did anything to just this one.
Taking her wand she taps the top of the vial twice. The stopper barely moves. She taps her wand three times, saying the charm aloud rather than silently. This time when she tries the stopper comes out with an audible POP.
"Here you go."
"Thank you, miss."
Resuming her stroll around the classroom, Majandra watches as students julienne, chop, grind, and carry out other assorted actions using a variety of ingredients. She observes without comment Larkin carefully dicing gurdyroot then scooping it into one of her test tubes. Next to her Daphne Ellis is carefully measuring out the turmeric she has ground, adding it to her cauldron, stirring four times counterclockwise then adjusting the flame to as low as it will go without going out entirely.
By class's end there is a flurry of activity as the Gryffindor and Slytherin third years make sure they have something in each of their test tubes, getting everything packed into their boxes, and getting their stations cleaned. As she collects the boxes and dismisses class, Majandra bids them, "Have a good rest of your day."
As the last of them scurry out the first of the third year Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws begin trickling in, having no clue what is in store for them this period.
(Alanna) Not Yet Dead
Author: Beck
Date: 09-13-18 18:28
Curled in a ball on the hard, dusty, stone ground of a cavernous, underground room was Alanna. Her hair was disheveled, greasy, and caked in blood. Her clothes was soiled and torn in places. At the moment, all of her body parts were in tact, but old cuts and bruises were visible all across her thinning form. A chain kept her from wandering off––not that she had the strength or any remaining willpower. It was bolted to one of the walls and attached to her right ankle with a manacle. The chain had limited reach––just enough for her to go between her "bed" and chamber pot.
She didn't know where exactly she was or when it was. The underground chamber had no windows and very poor lighting. She didn't ever know if it was night or day, and she also had no idea how much time had passed since the first of July. It seemed both like ages and as if the attack on Diagon Alley had occurred only yesterday.
All Alanna knew was that she'd blacked out while still in the daycare and had woken up later in the dank, dark chamber with a few Death Eaters anxiously waiting for her to regain consciousness, so that their next spot of fun could begin. She'd been tortured endless since waking up and by so many different people, or so she thought, as some of the Death Eaters only ever wore masks in her presence.
Then, there was HIM. Alanna had never met Lord Voldemort in his previous existence. She'd escaped his first rampage in Diagon Alley without encountering him at the start of her fourth year at Hogwarts, and he'd died in Hogsmeade the following spring. Alanna couldn't at all compare what he'd been like then with what he was like now to say with utmost confidence that he was real. Of course, she had learned about him in Defense Against the Dark Arts and History of Magic, and he'd often been all over the front page of the newspaper and covered in WWN news broadcasts. Alanna felt like she did kind of know him even without ever meeting him before, and that version of him from school lessons and media coverage seemed very much like the one who visited her now.
Sometimes he tortured her, too, but a lot of times he talked to her. She rarely answered back, because she usually didn't have anything to contribute, but often she couldn't because of injury or pain. Voldemort knew that her former husband had helped get some of his followers out of prison. He also knew that she had killed him in self-defense and that she'd exposed his blackmailing ways. This was a source of contention, as Reed could have probably successfully gotten other Death Eaters out of Azkaban. But Voldemort recognized that Alanna willingly sacrificed herself to protect her family, and that was something he liked. After all, he expected the same from his family.
Alanna did not think he was keeping her around because he wanted to earn her support––how could he after all he and the others had done to her?––though she did wonder why she still lived and why some of the Death Eaters never showed their faces around her. Might she walk free someday, after all? Alanna did not have high hopes for that, but then she wasn't dead yet.