|
|
(Alanna) Still Not Dead
Author: Beck
Date: 02-01-19 11:32
In the beginning, Alanna bore her daily torture session as expected. She screamed, she cried, and she wondered how she endured any of it. Most of all, she was astounded that none of the Death Eaters or Voldemort himself had deliberately ended her life. What purpose did she serve to them other than apparent sport? Surely, they should be bored of her by now?
She didn't know when "now" was, though. Alanna correctly guessed that it was winter, since the underground chamber where she was imprisoned had gotten remarkably frigid. Now on top of the pain and suffering she experienced everyday, she also felt endless cold.
Sometimes the cold served to distract her from other pain. Other times it even numbed her body enough to make the torture slightly more bearable.
Alanna marveled that her body hadn't given up yet. She should have died from all the trauma she'd suffered at the Death Eaters' hands. While it was true that she had lost a large amount of weight and was in terrible physical condition, she felt weirdly stronger with each passing day. Maybe she was adapting, but Alanna also felt herself getting angrier and angrier.
She never lashed out, thinking the behavior might lead to a hasty death. Anyway, she probably didn't have the strength to do anything. Sometimes she couldn't even talk, despite wanting to run her mouth.
Instead, she started to listen. She probably wouldn't ever escape the Death Eaters, but if by some miracle she did, then she wanted to leave armed with information. She'd already heard a lot, and much of it had come from Voldemort's own lips. Now if only she could share what she knew.
Alanna heard the door at the top of the stairs open and then a pair of individuals swept down the staircase. She was curled on the ice-cold stone ground, facing the wall and braced herself for what would come next.
"To earn your mark, you must prove yourself worthy," said the silky voice Alanna had come to know well. "Destroy her mind, and you will be one step closer to joining us."
With some effort, Alanna rolled over and was shocked to see an unmasked wizard standing next to the Dark Lord. The wizard looked very young. He was certainly less than 20 years old.
Alanna looked from the boy to Voldemort and back again.
"Don't do this," she croaked.
But in response, the young wizard grinned evilly and raised his wand.
Trap
Author: Bill Weasley
Date: 02-02-19 12:54
The owl bearing Qadir's note came in the early afternoon, just as Bill was debating whether to have another cup of coffee or step outside for a breath of fresh air. Qadir asked if Ian might wish to meet him at a different pub from their usual and before the evening rush. Bill was technically on duty till close, but he was also the boss and could allow himself to leave early. As Ian, Bill scrawled a reply to Qadir, sent it on its way with the owl that had delivered the other wizard's note, and then finished up a few tasks around his office.
When the time came to meet Qadir, Bill informed the other staff at Gringotts that an unexpected engagement had come up, requiring him to leave early. He wished everyone a good evening, stepped out onto High Street, and made the quick journey to the book shoppe to give Lysander a heads-up. Lysander instructed the house-elf Brudha to eavesdrop once more and reluctantly wished Bill luck.
Bill stepped back onto the street and then disapparated for Sunderland. He met Qadir inside The Last Resort, a pub with a bit of a shady reputation, not unlike The Hog's Head or the establishments in Knockturn Alley. Bill remembered reading a news article years ago about a battle between Death Eaters and law enforcement inside that very pub.
There was no sign that anything destructive had ever happened there, but Bill noticed plenty of seedy-looking individuals inside the dim establishment. He looked around, taking note of all he saw as well as exits in case those were necessary and then sighted Qadir, who was sitting near a door facing the rear of the pub.
"Bonjour, Qadir," Bill greeted, affecting his fake French accent.
"Hello, Ian. Have a seat, order a drink."
Bill did both and then asked, "I don't know zis place. Do you?"
"Only by reputation," Qadir said. "So has your cousin finally come around to helping you?"
"Non," Bill replied with a scowl.
"Bastard," Qadir said. "He acts like a saint, but he's really nothing but a trouble-maker. Wizards like that always get what they deserve in the end."
"What does 'e deserve?"
"To suffer, of course," Qadir said. Then he grinned and added, "Don't look so shocked. He's responsible for my father's downfall, and countless others, I'm sure. It's really time someone makes an example out of him."
"What are you suggesting?"
Qadir didn't answer Bill for a long moment. He twisted his glass around on the grainy, stained surface of the table and looked at Bill like the cat that caught the canary. Bill realized seconds too late that Qadir's other hand was under the table. A red bolt of light flew from under the table and struck not Bill but Brudha, who had taken a seat at the table behind theirs.
The little house-elf made a terrifying sound and started toward Bill, but Bill could do nothing for it or himself, it seemed. Qadir disarmed Bill before he could get up and then sprang up from his own seat to seize Bill by the collar of his robes.
Some of the other patrons simply watched the incident while nursing their drinks, though a few stood up with wands drawn to join in whatever fight might come.
"Your ruse worked for a time, Bill, but it's all over now."
"Brudha, go!" Bill exclaimed, and then everything went black.
(Honoria) A Miracle
Author: Sophie McCourt
Date: 02-03-19 07:16
It was early in the morning, when Honoria McCourt felt the first labour pains. Ian had already left the house to go to work. She could have easily sent him an OWL and go to St. Mungo's for the birth of their third child. Instead she went to their bedroom, sending a Patronus in the shape of a squirrel, summoning someone else.
The witch came using the Floo network, followed by two house-elves. She was known as Milagros, the Spanish word for miracles, although Honoria could not tell if she was actually Spanish or not. It had been one of her friends who had suggested to use of Milagros 'services and Honoria decided to use it.
The witch glanced at the bedroom and used her wand to lock the door. The house elves started to gather towels and warm water. She looked at Honoria and asked:
"Do you have the payment?"
Honoria nodded and pointed to her bedside table. The witch picked up the red velvet purse and opened it. She ignored Honoria's scream when a contraction hit her, as she counted the galeons to make sure she had nod been fooled.
Honoria did not like the way the house elves moved around her bedroom, knocking a precious antique chair down, and pulling the expensive bedcovers away with their little dirty hands. She also did not like the way Milagros ignored her. At St. Mungo's when Florence and Penelope were born, the nurses had nothing but kind and encouraging words to her. Milagros and her minions made her feel like a breeding mare, which only purpose was to extract the child out of her body. After a couple of hours, Honoria gave a final push and the baby was born.
One of the house elves collected the child and cleaned it.
"Is it a boy?" Honoria asked with hope, stretching her neck to the crying baby.
"A girl," Milagros said. Honoria closed her eyes and sighed. Another girl. Ian would be disappointed and she was afraid he might loose his patience and divorce her. She was well aware their marriage had not been based in love. He was hoping she would give him a healthy son. "Do we maintain transaction?" Milagros asked.
"Yes," Honoria said without any sign of hesitation in her voice.
Milagros turned to one of her house elves. "Bring the child," she ordered.
The elf bowed and disappeared. He reappeared less than a minute later with another newborn baby in his arms. The baby was sleeping.
"A healthy boy, as agreed"
"A pureblood?"
"Of course."
The house elf offered the newborn to Honoria. She looked at his sleeping face. He seemed strong, unlike her stepson Elmer, such a frail creature. This child was her ticket to gain Ian's approval and assure he would never divorce her.
"I think we are done," Milagros said, as the house elves finished cleaning everything. Her daughter, as if sensing an imminent departure intensfied her cries.
"Wait!" Honoria said, looking at her own child. "I want to keep her too."
"That was not part of our agreement."
"Please! I'll pay," Honoria said in desperation. "There, my jewelry box. Pick anything you like."
Milagros did so without any ceremonies. She picked the most expensive item Honoria possessed a necklace with sapphires, made by goblins.
"You are a fool. It was clear you were not expecting twins."
"That is my concern alone. Do we have a deal?"
"Deal."
Milagros placed the baby in the bed next to Honoria and then stored the necklace in her pocket.
"Deal. " She said.
Her house elves had finished tidying everything, giving the room the appearance that Honoria had given birth on her own. Without so much of a goodbye the trio left. Honoria unlocked the door with her wand and she finally called for her husband.
Ian appeared right away. He kissed his wife's forehead and he picked up the boy, completely ignoring the girl, his real daughter. Honoria did not mind, instead she told him how fast her labour had been and how she had given birth to twins, without expecting it. Ian was overjoyed by the happy event, and that made him blind to logic. Honoria sighed with relief: her plan worked to perfection and she was even able to keep her real daughter thanks to Milagros' greed. She could almost call it a miracle.
(Azaelia) Brunch
Author: Isolde
Date: 02-03-19 08:34
Azaelia stepped inside Brews & Stews and spotted her mother almost immediately. She pulled off her winter cloak and slung it over her arm before making the short journey to her mother's table. A latte with a heart drawn into the foam sat at Nimuë's elbow, along with an open menu.
"Hello, darling," Azaelia's mother greeted, rising slightly to kiss her daughter's cheek.
"Hello, Mum," Azaelia replied. She draped her cloak over the back of her chair and hung her wristlet purse from the chair's frame before sitting down across from her mother.
"Thank you for coming to see me. I know your day has only just begun and I'm sure you have duties at the library to keep you busy," Nimuë said.
"Yes, but I purposefully skipped breakfast to make our meeting worthwhile." She meant the jab, but if Nimuë took note of it, she didn't react.
A waitress came over to take Azaelia's drink order. After the waitress left, Azaelia turned to her mother and asked, "How is the job search going?"
"Oh, quite well, actually. I'm a temp, and I find a like it. The hours are unusual, but the pay is surprisingly good. Plus, I'm meeting so many new people and making great contacts."
"What kind of temp work do you typically do?" Azaelia asked. She couldn't imagine her mother doing anything with much enthusiasm, especially real work.
"Oh, a little bit of this and that," Nimuë mysteriously answered. Her face lit up suddenly when someone came through the restaurant door.
Azaelia turned to look at saw her mother's friend Ally coming their way. Ally took off a fur coat and hat and handed them to the waitress who had just dropped off Azaelia's mocha caffe.
"I'm grateful for the sun," Ally remarked, "but it really is too cold."
"Your furs are lovely, darling!" Nimuë gushed. "Be thankful it's cold so that you can wear them."
Ally smiled and sat down between Nimuë and Azaelia. "Hello, Azaelia," she greeted. "So nice to see you again."
Azaelia pressed her lips together in a thin smile. She had thought her mother had wanted to have brunch with her. She'd had no reason to believe there would be a third person dining with them.
"Hello, Ally," Azaelia managed. "I hear you are keeping my mother busy with odd jobs."
"Yes, she's quite good at everything I throw at her. I couldn't be more satisfied with the quality of her work."
"That's great," Azaelia said. "Does this mean you've saved enough money to move out of Aunt Iseult's house yet?" she asked her mother.
Nimuë shrugged. "Iseult and Gorman have both said I can stay as long as I'd like. I don't see any hurry to leave, but I'm in a good place financially now, so I could get my own place."
The waitress came back to take Ally's drink order and to see if the three were ready to order brunch as well. Once they were alone again, Ally turned to Azaelia and asked, "How do you like working for Minerva McGonagall?"
Azaelia found the question strange and out of the blue but she shrugged and said, "She's stern and strict just like she was when I was her student, but I like her well-enough."
"She's not Albus Dumbledore, though," Ally remarked with a slight, questioning inflection at the end of her sentence.
"No one is," Azaelia said, "but she's by far the best person to fill his shoes."
"You seem confident in her abilities."
Azaelia shrugged. "It's always been said that Hogwarts is one of the safest places in the wizarding world, especially when Dumbledore was still alive. I've never had reason to feel concerned about Professor McGonagall's leadership, and I truly believe that she is continuing Dumbledore's legacy."
Ally regarded Azaelia for a long moment and then asked, "Do you think she's intuitive enough to know when something nefarious is happening right under her nose within the walls of Hogwarts?"
Azaelia gave Ally a sharp look. "Is something happening I should know about?"
Ally shook her head with a lazy smile on her face. "I only mean that she never realized a Death Eater was living under her roof."
Azaelia could feel herself getting angry. "I don't want to talk about Robert."
Ally held her hands up in a placating manner, and Nimuë reached over to place one of her hands on top of her daughter's.
"I"m sorry. I didn't mean to offend or stir up bad memories. I only wonder if your Headmistress is really suited for the job, especially in these uncertain times."
Azaelia pulled her hand out from underneath her mother's and said, "What is your issue with Professor McGonagall?"
Ally's hands were still up. "It's not personal. I just am not convinced she'll keep Hogwarts as safe as Dumbledore did."
"Dumbledore, who didn't know there was a basilisk living inside the walls of the castle? Dumbledore, who unknowingly had a Death Eater impersonating a professor?" Azaelia leaned forward and jabbed her finger repeatedly on the surface of the table while she spoke. "Dumbledore was human in the end. McGonagall is human, too. We all make mistakes. Some of us marry the wrong people. Some of us commit stupid crimes and go to Azkaban for it. Some of us wear fur! I don't know who you are or what your deal is, but you need to get over yourself."
She rose and grabbed her things, just as the waitress was coming back with their meals.
"Leaving already?" the puzzled waitress asked.
"Yeah, sorry," Azaelia said. "Can you send it up to the castle for me. Here." She dug in her wristlet for coins and tossed them on the table.
"Azaelia, wait!" Nimuë said, but to no avail. Azaelia left the restaurant without a look behind her.
Booking A Venue
Author: Christopher Chant
Date: 02-03-19 19:53
Leslie eyes the gazebo, disdainfully saying, "A little on the small side. Maybe it's better close up."
Cat reaches for Christopher's hand as they tromp down the snowy path towards the gazebo. "Sorry," she says under her breath. "She sort of invited herself along."
Christopher shakes his head. "I don't mind. Maybe if Ms. Kettleburn thinks Leslie's criticisms will have us going elsewhere she'll drop the price."
Cat laughs. "Galleons saved on the venue could go to the honeymoon fund or to the home fund. Say, wasn't there a Care of Magical Creatures professor named Kettleburn at Hogwarts at one time?"
"Yeah, I think so. Retired twenty or so years ago I want to say."
"Think she's any relation?" Cat nods at the woman walking ahead of them with Leslie."
"Probably so. Or should I say definitely so considering that pretty much everyone in the British wizarding community is related somehow to each other, even if only distantly."
Cat laughs again. "You realize that means if we both follow our family trees back enough we'll find we're cousins."
Christopher grins at her, pulling her closer then stopping altogether to give Cat a quick kiss. "Kissing cousins."
Leslie looks back over her shoulder to call out. "Come on you two! It's too bloody cold out here to be standing around snogging."
"So in love," Ms. Kettleburn coos. She makes a sweeping gesture with her arms. "The gazebo is a glorious spot for the ceremony. The flowers will be in bloom, swans and ducks out on the pond. Just glorious."
"What if the weather is bad the day of the wedding?" Leslie asks.
Ms. Kettleburn turns to look back at the small but beautiful manor. "The ceremony would be held inside, either in the grand reception hall or the ballroom. That would be Catriona's and Christopher's choice to make."
"And the reception in good weather is entirely outside?" Leslie again.
"Oh no. The ballroom and garden combined can be used for the reception. Again, it's the couple's choice as to how they wish to use the space."
"You don't book more than one wedding each date?"
"We do depending on what package is booked for an event. If the event is strictly outside here at the gazebo, we will book an event for the ballroom if someone is insistent on having the space."
Christopher takes the steps up into the gazebo asking a question for the first time. "Can guests see the ceremony that well when a couple is married standing up here?"
"Yes, they have a wonderful view what with the way the gazebo opens and the couple are beautifully framed."
Cat has joined Christopher in the gazebo followed closely by Leslie. "I don't know about you, but I love it."
Christopher nods. "Me too."
Leslie hisses under her breath, "Don't show too much enthusiasm. We want to book the best price." More loudly she says, "Yes, yes, it is rather nice but we do need to hurry on to the next venue on the list before your afternoon classes, Cat."
"It is a good idea to look around and find the spot best suited for what you want for your wedding," Ms. Kettleburn tells them, "but please don't take overly long deciding on us or you might lose the date your wanting."
Cat looks to Christopher and nods. He nods back at her. Cat turns to Ms. Kettleburn. "We've been to enough venues to know we want this one."
Leslie starts to object but Christopher cuts her off. "We love it, your mum, Leslie, and my mum came the other day and love it. We want here." To Ms. Kettleburn he says, "We'd like to put down a deposit."
Leslie grumbles about how they've just ruined any chance of a discount even as she hurries back towards the manor and its warmth while Ms. Kettleburn keeps assuring her the rates are excellent and competitive with other venues. Cat and Christopher once again trail behind, walking hand-in-hand, not all that upset they might not have a huge saving on the venue to add to the honeymoon fund or to their fund for buying their first home together.
Aftermath
Author: Lysander Stratford
Date: 02-04-19 18:15
"I think we've got what we need from you, Mr. Weasley. Are you sure you don't want to go to the infirmary?" asked auror Clara Smarts, as she regarded him with concern. "You could have a concussion."
Bill shook his head and gave her a reassuring smile. "I feel fine, really. Am I free to go?"
"Yes. We'll summon you if we need more, and then there will be the trial, of course."
Bill took his leave and stepped outside into the hall, where Lysander was waiting for him. He walked over to the wizard who was not his friend and shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans. "I didn't expect you to wait."
Lysander pushed off from the wall and started to head toward the lift. "I wasn't waiting for you. I was waiting to see if they'd call me back in."
"Sure," Bill said, falling into step beside Lysander.
Everything had happened so quickly yesterday. Lysander had been getting ready to close the shop for the evening when Brudha appeared, looking like she was on death's door. She latched onto Lysander's hand and disapparated with him to The Last Resort pub in Sunderland, where Lysander witnessed Qadir use Mobilicorpus on an unconscious Bill to get him off the floor and out the back door.
Qadir had Bill's body halfway through the door when Lysander suddenly disarmed him. Bill's body fell to the ground in a heap. Qadir started to run, but Lysander had him stunned and bound in an instant.
He thought he might meet resistance from the others in the pub, but most had paid the incident little heed, and those who'd gotten to their feet when the kerfuffle started, sat down and returned to their drinking.
Lysander ordered Brudha to the Ministry to get law enforcement. Several aurors came, including Clara Smarts, who seemed to be the lead investigator in the case.
Bill and Lysander were interviewed last night and then again this morning.
"How's Brudha?" Bill asked.
Lysander punched the button for the lift and said, "Dead."
"Oh. Sorry."
Lysander shrugged. Brudha had appeared to respond well to medical attention, but she suffered a setback overnight and died just before Lysander was summoned to the Ministry this morning.
"I'm going to have to visit my aunt and tell her the bad news," Lysander said. "The house-elf is––was––in my care while she's away."
"Was she close to the elf? I don't know of many wizarding families who look at house-elves as more than servants who can easily be replaced," Bill added.
The two stepped into the lift and reached for a handle to hold on to while the lift jerked this way and that.
"Families like mine, you mean?" Lysander asked. "Surely you Weasels treat your elves, if you even have any, like family or dear friends."
Bill calmly replied, "Treat your servants with love and respect and they will repay you in kind."
"What a sentiment!" Lysander sarcastically stated.
The lift jerked to a sudden halt and the grate opened. Lysander stepped out, followed by Bill.
"I'll see you in court!" Lysander exclaimed.
Bill grinned at the joke and headed for the fireplaces.
Megara Makes Plans
Author: Errol
Date: 02-05-19 20:45
Just inside one of the entrances to Orange Errol scans the section of seating where Megara had said she'd likely be. Spotting her, he weaves around people and tables to drop his pack into one of the two empty chairs then sits in the other. "I'm starting to think I should have waited to do any internship."
Looking up from adding what's probably honey mustard dressing to her salad Megara asks, "Yeah? Why?"
"Interning is more tiring than if I had some part-time job and it takes up so much time I can't carry as many classes, which means it's going to take longer to graduate."
"So quit the internship and reapply for it again later."
"Too late for that."
"Why?"
"It would give a bad impression."
Megara purses her lips, wiggling them around as if in thought. Finally, she shrugs. "Yeah, I can see that." She reaches for the cup of soup she'd gotten in addition to the salad. "Is graduating later rather than sooner all that bad?"
Errol's turns down in disdain even as he replies, "No, I guess not." He pushes back from the table. "I'm going to get something to eat. Need anything?"
"Banana shake."
"They're doing banana shakes now?"
"You asked what I needed. I need a banana shake. I don't see why they can't throw in a banana or two when doing a vanilla shake."
"Have you asked them?"
"No."
"Then how do you know they won't do it?"
She waggles her fork in the direction of the food service section where milkshakes and malteds are available. "The lady there always gives everyone the evil eye. No way am I asking."
"So ask someone else on duty."
"She's the only one I ever see there."
Errol makes a silly face at her then says, "Back in a few."
He goes through the food line fairly quickly, grabbing a sandwich and a small bowl of fruit. From there he goes to get a chocolate malt and to ask if a banana milkshake is possible. A few minutes later he's back at the table handing Megara a banana milkshake.
"How did you manage that?" she asks, greedily accepting the cup.
"I asked. Apparently, they do a whole range of shakes and malts."
"Not just vanilla, strawberry, and chocolate?"
"Not just."
"Since when?"
"Since always."
"Oh."
Megara takes a drink and looks as if she's thinking about smacking her lips in appreciation of the flavor but instead asks, "Seeing your mum this weekend?"
"I don't want to talk about it."
"Cancelled did she?"
"Not talking about it."
"She does that a lot."
"Running for office and then winning it has kept her busy."
"Is she not going to be in London at all?"
Errol shrugs. "Dunno."
"So she might be in London but can't take a few minutes to see you?"
Errol's face grows hot. "I said I don't want to talk about it, Megara."
"All right, all right." She takes another drink of her shake. "So, if you're free this weekend you can go with me to the after Valentine's Valentines party. There's someone I want you to meet."
"Not a set up."
"Who said anything about a set up?"
"You did."
"Not I."
"You didn't say it in so many words but you did. It was there. In your tone."
"So you're coming then? Great! We'll have fun."
Errol glares at Megara who smiles sweetly back. He thinks about arguing with her and being firm about not going to the party and not meeting this friend of hers but she's Megara. She always wins these things so why not take the easy way out and go along. It's not like he has anything else now this weekend anyway.