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Before Lunch
Author: Marzipan
Date: 09-18-19 18:20
After rearranging the greenhouse following her fifth year class, Marzi spent some time getting things prepared for her next class, which wasn't until first thing tomorrow morning. Yesterday and today she'd met with her fifth year students, whom she hadn't had in class since their first years, when she still taught lower years Herbology. Although she had seen those students throughout the castle and grounds the past three years, it was almost like reacquainting herself with them again.
Those classes had begun with introductions to the O.W.L.-level course, a brief discussion on what the Herbology O.W.L. would be like, and then a run-through of the syllabus. Then, the fifth years launched into their first topic of the new term: self-fertilizing shrubs.
Tomorrow, Marzi would meet with the sixth years, who were lucky not to have a major exam at the end of the school year but would nevertheless find themselves quite busy with schoolwork. Theirs was a N.E.W.T.-level class, and a taste of what would come at the end of their seventh years. The sixth years would start out learning about the venomous tentacula.
After satisfying herself with the setup for tomorrow's class, Marzi decided to go to the Great Hall for lunch. During the walk, which she made outdoors though it was overcast and not a very nice day, her mind fluttered from thought to thought. First she thought about her erstwhile coworker who had held the position she currently did, professor of upper years Herbology. He had allegedly joined a dark faction overseas.
That thought brought her to the current predicament at Hogwarts. Fortunately, Marzi didn't seem to be one of the major targets of the press or the sibling monitors, though she wasn't entirely immune to the scrutiny either. She often got stopped by reporters going to and from the primary school in Hogsmeade.
Her response was always the same: "No comment."
Sometimes she wondered if someone as skeezy as Rita Skeeter would pluck isolated facts from her past or family history and spin them so that they related to the big story. Fortunately, nothing like that had happened… yet.
Marzi finally reached the castle and entered, crossing directly over to the Great Hall. Just within the doors, she was met by a student who had signed up to join the Herbology Club this past Saturday.
"Hi, Professor Ravenscroft! What will we be doing in the meeting this Saturday?"
Marzi smiled kindly at the enthusiastic student and said, "The first meeting will simply be introductory, but don't worry. It'll be a fun start to the club."
"Can't wait!" the student exclaimed, before bounding off to join her friends at one of the house tables.
With a smile on her face, Marzi continued on to High Table and sat down next to Neville.
Birthmark
Author: Julian Valentine
Date: 09-19-19 19:08
Glori and Caerwyn knock on Iola's door. Upon hearing, "It's open," he turns the knob and holds the door for Glori to go through first. He ends up holding the door when a friend of Iola's comes bounding up behind them.
"Thanks, mate. You must be Caerwyn. Clive Birtwistle." The man - late 30s-early 40s, stocky build, just over average height, flaming carrot hair and matching three days growth of beard, blue eyes - sticks out a hand to shake.
"Yeah, Caerwyn. Caerwyn Valentine and this is Glori Hodfuffer. Nice to meet you."
The two shake and then Glori and Clive shake hands as Caerwyn eases the door shut and Iola emerges from the hallway. "Oh good. You've all met." Moving to give Glori a kiss on the cheek and then one for Caerwyn she says, "Thank you so much for babysitting." Iola, and apparently Clive, are meeting up with a local group for dinner in honor of any of them with September birthdays.
Gesturing to the kitchen she tells them, "Help yourself to anything you wish or if you want to have something delivered I've left some money by the telephone along with takeaway menus for some of the local restaurants."
"Benedetta's has the best pizza in this area if you decide pizza," Clive offers. "Actually, anything Benedetta's does is excellent."
Nodding at Clive's assessment Iola adds, "The tiramisu and the sfogliatelle are to die for." She waggles a finger back towards the hallway. "Anwen is in the early stages of waking up. Give her a few more minutes by herself and she won't be as cranky as she gets when woken fully before she's ready. There's a bottle in the fridge if she gets hungry before we're back but we shouldn't be all that late."
She moves to clear a half-filled teacup from the coffee table. Glori moves a half-beat behind. "I can get that for you, Iola."
They end up bumping, the teacup staying in Iola's grip but the raspberry tinged liquid flinging out, ending up over the front of Caerwyn's pale yellow shirt. If Clive weren't there, he would take out his wand and not only instantly dry the large spot but also do his best to spell the raspberry stain away. If he couldn't get the stain out Iola or Glori would likely know a good spell for it.
What he ends up doing is stripping off the t-shirt even as Iola reaches out, "Here, let's throw that in the wash right away so the stain won't set. If you'll look in the hall closet the bottom drawer of the dresser in the guest room I think there are some shirts I somehow still have that had been my husband's."
Nodding at her instructions Caerwyn turns to do as she's directed only to stop when his aunt's hand grabs his arm. "How did I not know you have a birthmark on your shoulder? I did give you a few nappy changes and baths when you were a baby."
Shaking his head and shrugging Caerwyn says, "I've always had it as far as I know."
Clive tilts his head, one finger drawing in the air in Caerwyn's direction. "Part of it looks like an H."
"Now you've said that, I see an H too," Glori says, her head now tilting as well.
Shaking his head again and missing the sudden shrewd expression on Iola's face, Caerwyn grins. "I can't say I've studied it that much since I don't spend much time looking at my back in mirrors." He continues on to the guest room to locate a shirt, returning just in time to hear Clive say, "If we don't hurry, we'll be the last to arrive and end up being the subject of gossip on what we were doing to be late."
Laughing, Iola replies, "Can't have that, now can we?" Over her shoulder she says, "If there's nothing decent on the telly, don't forget to check the dvd collection." One last, quick glance at Caerwyn, eyes narrowing slightly as she thinks to herself she needs another look at that birthmark, Iola allows herself to be guided out the door by Clive. She also thinks to herself that if she's not careful she'll spend the evening obsessing over the overall shape of her nephew's birthmark and miss having the great time she usually has at these monthly birthday dinners.
Trying Times
Author: Jolyon
Date: 09-20-19 08:32
Being the father of one of the students recruited by the Death Eaters, Jolyon was often accosted by members of the press and concerned parents, not to mention law enforcement. It was a very trying time in his life, though Jolyon tried to put himself in someone else's shoes. If he didn't have so close a connection to the situation at Hogwarts, he would probably have concerns about what was happening in the school. He probably wouldn't attack the staff personally, though.
Jolyon had received plenty of letters questioning his parenting, and there had even been an editorial piece in The Daily Prophet wondering if not having been in his older childrens' lives from the start had led to Asher going down a dark path. Everywhere he turned, Jolyon felt as if he were being made out to be the reason behind Asher's descent into darkness. It was hard not to feel affected by it all.
After a few weeks of trying to deal with it by relying on the support of his family and colleagues, Jolyon decided to take advantage of the two psychologists regularly visiting Hogwarts. His first session had been with Walter Phelps last week. It had felt very therapeutic to get it all out, and after the successful session, Jolyon told Arielle that she should consider talking to a professional as well.
Arielle had decided to defer attending St. Emrys University at least until January but perhaps even a whole year. Although Jolyon didn't think it was a good idea for her to do nothing for that long, he knew that she was trying to recuperate from everything, and isolating herself seemed to be her preferred method for doing just that. He was hopeful that she would decide to talk weekly with a psychologist, at least to get her doing something from time to time.
Father and daughter did get out on Sunday afternoon. After the first Hogwarts Pet Society meeting, during which he and Indigo discussed a common wizarding pet, the owl, Jolyon and Arielle traveled to Azkaban to visit Asher. It had not been Jolyon's first visit there since his son's incarceration, but it had been Arielle's first time. Jolyon had been somewhat concerned to take her there, but she'd insisted and seemed to bear the visit well, all things considered.
Jolyon set out for the stables and was surprised to find one of the consultants nosing around inside. The witch had observed one of his classes during the first week of term but hadn't bothered him since. Jolyon hadn't been visited by her brother at all.
The witch turned when Jolyon entered the stables. He wasn't in the mood to deal with her, but he did his very best to be polite.
"Good morning," he greeted.
She did not return the greeting. Instead she asked, "Did Headmistress McGonagall ever discuss the status of your employment in light of your son being a Death Eater?"
Jolyon bristled. "My son is not a Death Eater, and what does his attempted recruitment have to do with my employment?"
Eunice Smirt made a "Hmm" sort of noise, jotted something down on her clipboard, and then stepped around Jolyon to exit the stables. He watched her go, swore under his breath, and then forced himself to prepare for his first class of the day, the third years, who would be studying Ministry of Magic magizoological classifications.
(Alanna) Coma No More
Author: Beck
Date: 09-20-19 17:37
Alanna walked slowly along the corridor with the assistance of a walker and Jared by her side. She could only go so far before she got tired and before her legs, which were frail from disuse, stopped cooperating. After all, she'd only woken up from her 5-month coma a little over two weeks ago.
That had been a very exciting and confusing day. To wake up and find Jared in her room had made her think she was dreaming, because last she remembered, he hated her. But then other, more recent memories––the type that were very foggy because they happened when she was sleeping came to mind: Jared visiting everyday. Jared reading to her and telling her the news. Jared by her bedside as often as he could be. She remembered those things, though they didn't at all seem real. Turns out, all of the memories happened, though.
There was a lot she'd missed while she'd been sleeping, including just when Jared got over being angry with her for everything that happened because of Reed. Her grandfather, who had already been very old before the Death Eaters kidnapped her, also got around with the assistance of a walker these days. Ariella had gotten divorced, and Anthony had a baby daughter named Theresa now.
Then there was all the news she'd missed during her big sleep. Her rescue happened thanks to the discovery of Death Eater HQ. The current whereabouts of the remaining dark wizards were unknown, including that of Voldemort, who yes, was very much alive. That fact she remembered quite well. The latest news all the outlets reported on had to do with the fact that the Death Eaters were recruiting Hogwarts students. That tidbit made Alanna think about the young wizard who tortured her at Voldemort's command. She'd seen his face, but she didn't know who he was.
The fact that she was awake now and known to have been in the presence of the Death Eaters at their now-raided headquarters meant law enforcement was eager to talk to her, but so far Anthony managed to keep his colleagues away from the hospital. Her continued recovery was the priority.
Alanna definitely wanted to cooperate, but she was kind of glad that she wasn't being pestered with tough questions just yet. The darkest of her memories were quite fresh in her mind and recounting them surely wouldn't help her recuperation while the state of her overall health was still fairly critical. Really, it was miraculous that she was awake, much less alive.
She and Jared were nearing her hospital room again. He helped her with the door and escorted her all the way to her bed, helping her turn, sit, and then gently lifted her legs so that she could lay down. He drew the sheet and blanket over her body and said, "You were a little faster today."
"Was I?" Alanna laughed, her voice slightly hoarse both from disuse and asking lots of questions of her family and friends. "I still feel like I'm barely shuffling along."
"It's going to take time to get you back to how you were," Jared reminded her, "but you're really doing great."
"Thanks." Alanna chewed her bottom lip and said, "Listen, I know I've said it before, but I really am sorr––"
Jared shook his head and held up his hand. "It's all in the past. It took almost losing you to realize that I was an idiot."
"No, you weren't. I was the idiot."
Jared offered her a small smile. "I guess that means we're well-matched." He looked at his watch then and said, "I need to get back. See you tonight." He pressed a kiss to her cheek and then left the room to return to work.
Alanna settled back into her pillow with a smile. Sure, she'd hit rock bottom or just about as low as one could get in life, what with being near death and all, but things were most definitely improving in more ways than one.
(Titus) The New Trial
Author: Tiberius Nott
Date: 09-21-19 09:16
When Arielle broke things up with Malden he had punched a wall. Titus had a similar reaction, after she had kissed his cheek and walked away that day on Diagon Alley. But instead of punching a wall he had kicked a barrel of dry cockroaches that were drying in the sun, so the apothecary next door could then reduce them to powder and sell it. Titus had hurt his feet but he did not care. His heart was aching even more. The rejection was festering his system, turning his guts into anger. It was truth that he did not have a long lasting relationship with Arielle, but being with her made him feel loved and accepted, something he did not have for a long time in his life. She had turned him down and he felt that part of it has been because of his missing eye (who would want to date a one eyed man?), and the other because of Malden. If he had not brought Arielle to his trial, then she wouldn't get hurt, Asher would not desert the Death Eaters, and he would be able to continue to date her. Even so, Malden wasn't even the one to blame. No matter what had happened to Arielle and her family, Titus was still hoping that her love for him would endure and that they would continue dating and being together, no matter the circumstances. It seemed like he had been wrong and he wasn't enough for her. He started feeling sorry for himself getting and entering a spiral of self-pity and self-hating.
As the days passed the pain started to mitigate and a new feeling started to take over him. He used to have nightmares about his trial, and he often thought about it but the affliction and the pain he had felt were becoming a distant memory. What he now recalled the most was Voldemort and the approval on his eyes when he announced that Titus had passed the trial. He started to think that in a world where no one appreciated him, the Dark Lord seemed the only one to give him some value.
Titus was working at Florean's when he watched an attractive witch approaching. She must be around his age, and when she asked for an ice-cream she actually flirted with him. She smiled, waved her long red hair, and looked him in his single eye, with interest. People usually tried not to look at his eyes because of the eyepatch. But this girl did not seem to care. She stayed at the ice-cream parlor until it was closing time. Titus was in charge of closing, and soon they were alone. He looked at her and she made him a sign with her finger for him to approach. He did so. He could feel the tension in the air, as the girl pulled him by his working robes, ready to kiss him…until she started to laugh and pushed him away.
"You're so pathetic Nott! You really think a girl would want something to do with a one eyed ice-cream seller wizard?"
"What do you want Maurice?" Titus asked with irritation, adjusting his robes.
"It's Mindy," Maurice joked. He had used the polyjuice potion again but Titus had recognized him by his speech. "And you ought to show more respect, acolyte."
"I'm sorry," Titus said. He did not like to humble himself in front of anyone but he knew Maurice was already a Death Eater and Titus would not go anywhere if he lost his favor.
"Finish closing the shop and then come with me."
"Where are we going?"
"To meet an old friend."
*
The old friend turned out to be Malden. Titus and Maurice had used a portkey to his grandfather's house. Maurice led Titus to the kitchens, not allowing him to see much of the house itself. He could tell there were people living in the house but he did not see any of them with the exception of Malden.
"Gentlemen, I present you your next trial," he offered each one a black envelope.
He was no longer the attractive witch of before since the polyjuice had lost its effect, but he was still wearing the girl's robes. They both opened it fast, and read the words written on black ink. Titus did not like what he had been requested to do, but he thought that it sounded better than his first trial. The instructions were quite clear and not vague as the first one. He wondered what sort of trial Malden got. However the answer did not take long to arrive.
"You have the same trial," Maurice revealed.
Titus looked at Malden, and Malden looked back at him. They both concluded that who got what the Dark Lord requested first would be the winner. The one who failed would most likely be left behind in the path to become a Death Eater.
"When can we start?" Malden asked, eager for the competition to begin and to measure forces with Titus.
"Right now. But you must know you will have to work together on this one. No one stays behind. If one of you is caught it is over for the other, even if he escapes. You either fail, or succeed together. Since Malden cannot leave you will have to come here to work on your trial with him," Maurice told Titus. "You have to be discreet because if someone starts noticing your whereabouts and gets suspicious not only your trial ends, but also Malden's. I will prepare some portkeys for you to use. You can work together on Malden's living quarters. And of course, Malden you are not excused of your kitchen duties."
He opened a door that reveled the pantry, with a pallet as a bed set up at a corner. Malden did not seem very pleased with Maurice. Titus had assumed Malden had a bedroom upstairs with a proper bed and that he would be doing thrilling things alongside the other Death Eaters. Instead he had to sleep in a room with no windows, almost like a prison cell and he seemed to be working on the kitchen. Titus realized that he had lost his eye on his first trial, but Malden had lost something far more important: his freedom.
"Good luck gentleman! We expect to hear of your deeds soon," Maurice said, leaving them alone.
Titus and Malden did not say word, as they were both processing what was about to happen. Starting now they were both dependent of each other. They had to work together and most important trust each other. Titus thought that would be very hard to accomplish. His hate for Malden was visceral and he was pretty sure Malden did not had any good feelings about him either. This was going to be a long and hard trial.
Quidditch Fan Letter (Mira)
Author: Sirius Padfoot Black
Date: 09-21-19 14:55
Sliding into a seat beside her brother Mira casts a glance to where Miranda Weasley is sitting nearby. In a low voice Mira asks James, "What did you have Mum or Dad get Randa?"
"Get Randa for what?" Before Mira can say more James shakes his head. "I'm a bit thick sometimes. Her birthday. Friday. That sun pendant with amber we saw."
Mira laughs and nods down at her hands below the table line, out of sight should Miranda look their direction. She holds a small box, opening it to show him sun earrings with amber that match the necklace James is giving. "We do share the twin brain sometimes. Do you need me to help you wrap?"
"I think I have it. Not as neat as you'd make it but it will do."
Mira flashes a grin then jumps up. She could eat with James but had already told Selma she'd sit with her and help Selma work out writing a fan letter to Duncan Eastwick, a beater for the Salisbury Snakes. The last few days Selma has talked so much about Duncan Eastwick and Quidditch that Mira keeps having flashbacks to trying out for this year's Slytherin team.
The scrimmage match that keeps coming to mind was the fourth one she played. Mira, James, and Dolph Hibbert, another third year, were the chasers up against Mona van Houten, Reginald Price, and Bernice Burns. Dolph got the quaffle straight away, keeping it from the opposing chasers, who were wearing purple to Mira's team in orange, all the way to the hoops. The keeper easily knocked the ball away but instead of sending it to Reginald as she'd clearly meant to do, she'd put it straight into Mira's arms.
Faking a pass to James, Mira was able to get the quaffle past the keeper. Reginald put the quaffle back into play with a pass to Bernice. Bernice had the ball until just before the halfway point when one of the orange team's beaters, Mira was never sure which one, clipped Bernice with a bludger. The quaffle had popped out of Bernice's grip, allowing James to grab it up. He'd hurled the ball to Mira who passed it on to Dolph. This time when Dolph drove in close to the hoops, even with one of the purple team's beaters sending a bludger at him, he was able to get the ball by the keeper.
The rest of the scrimmage went much the same way, with the orange team scoring two more goals. The purple team managed to the quaffle through a hoop once for a single goal but Mira was convinced then and still is that the only reason they were able to score is because one of the purple team's beaters sent the bludger right at Brom von Roon's face. As Brom was the orange team's keeper and as the bludger took him full on in the face, dislocating Brom's nose and sending blood spraying, Brom missed blocking the quaffle.
Selma asking, "Do you think Duncan will write me back personally or do you think he has someone who does that for him?" pulls Mira's attention back to her roommate and the fan letter. Mira also realizes she's been sitting all this time without getting anything to eat even though she's starving after Fitness & Athletics this afternoon. Reaching for a platter of chicken Mira answers Selma, "I guess that depends on who many fan letters he gets a week."
(Gareth) After Fitness & Athletics
Author: Gerry
Date: 09-21-19 16:11
Gareth and James left out of Fitness & Athletics together. Both had tried out for Quidditch a couple of weekends ago. Just like in the previous year, Gareth tried out for all positions. He knew the only spot on the Gryffindor team truly open, assuming all of last year's teammates returned, was seeker, so that was where he put in all his effort. Then again, Gerry could find himself yanked off the team by their parents, or hell, even expelled, so maybe there was a chaser position to fill, too.
In the match where Gareth played seeker for the purple team, he spotted the snitch right away, only to lose sight of it when someone immediately targeted him with a bludger. The black ball screamed past his nose, barely missing him, but it was enough of a distraction for the golden snitch to completely vanish. Fortunately, the seeker for orange lost sight of it, too.
Both proceeded to systematically search the Pitch for where the snitch might have gone. Gareth scanned this way and that, listening to the sounds of the other players and keeping an eye out for obstacles, like an errant bludger or a player barreling his way.
The first time Gareth thought he saw the snitch again, it turned out to be the glint off of professional Quidditch player Kody Reese-Emerson's wristwatch. Gareth and the other seeker both zoomed after it from opposite directions, but when Gareth realized it was just an illusion, he jerked his broomstick around to avoid a crash.
While he made the abrupt turn, the real snitch game into view. Gareth zipped after it, with the other seeker hot on his tail. He dodged the bludger coming right at him and didn't turn to look when he heard it smack into the other seeker just behind him. The snitch was diving, and Gareth dipped with it, one arm outstretched. Down, down, down they both went, and then Gareth took a chance and leapt forward, grasping the snitch in his hand while rolling forward and off his broomstick onto the turf. The broom jabbed him as it hit the ground, but Gareth didn't lose his hold on the snitch.
It might have just been dumb luck, but it had been quite the ending to the scrimmage match.
"Hey Hyphens!"
Both Gareth and James, roommates with hyphenated last names, turned to look at Schuyler, who was jogging to catch up to them.
"Do you want to play a round of three-player chess before supper?" Schuyler asked.
"Sure," Gareth said, while James nodded and said, "Yeah, let's."
"Gryffindor common room or Commons?"
"If we go to the Commons, we'll probably spoil our dinner," Gareth pointed out, "so I vote the place of least temptation."
"I'm okay with a little appetizer before the main course," James countered.
"Sure, but I'm pretty sure your eyes are bigger than your stomach, and then what? You won't be hungry for dinner."
"How about this?" Schuyler suggested. "Chess in the Gryffindor common room, dinner in the Great Hall, dessert before curfew in the Commons?"
"Deal," the Hyphens simultaneously said.
—
Sometime later, after a quick game which Gareth and James overwhelmingly lost to Schuyler, the three wandered down to the Great Hall for dinner. Gareth excused himself to sit with his brother, who was waving a letter from their parents.
James and Schulyer sat down close to Schulyer's cousin Miranda, leaving a space open for Gareth if he wanted to rejoin them.
"Are they recalling you home?" Gareth jokingly asked Gerry.
"No. They want to know what our choices are for a trip over Christmas."
"This early? It's only the end of September."
Gerry shrugged. "Look at the options and write back with your choice. You better not choose one of the big city tours with museum visits and other boring stuff. My vote's for the island in the Pacific."
Gareth actually like that idea himself, but he found the perfect opportunity to tease Gerry. "Doesn't Grace's family own an island in the Pacific? Is she going there for Christmas, by chance?"
"I've no idea. Make your choice and be smart about it." With that, Gerry deliberately turned to his other side to address Will.
Gareth snickered under his breath and read through the options his parents had given for a possible family trip over Christmas break.
Happy News
Author: Sophie McCourt
Date: 09-22-19 01:57
As always Sophie woke up earlier than everyone else. She went outside for a walk, thinking that the only thing she would be missing from Pole Manor would be her morning walks around the property. Michaelmas term would soon start at St. Emrys and she was looking forward to her new life on campus and start her Astronomy degree.
Sophie passed nearby by the Threstals stable. Wren was already up, and he was using his wand to control a broom that was sweeping the entrance.
"Good morning Mrs. Pole," he greeted.
Sophie approached.
"How many times did I tell you to call me Sophie?"
"I'm sorry. Hello Sophie."
She smiled at him and he smiled back.
"Can I help?" She offered.
Wren told her it wasn't necessary but Sophie insisted. He asked her to fetch a bucket inside and fill it with water. Sophie did so. She started to enjoy herself helping Wren out with the stable maintenance. It was a good break from all the parties and events her mother in law made her attend, including her birthday party two days ago. To celebrate Sophie's 19th birthday the family decided to throw a dinner and a ball. Sophie had wanted something more discreet but Jasper told her this was her first birthday as a Pole and it needed to be celebrated with pomp. Sophie's father and stepmother were invited, as well Sophie's mother but Leslie had declined the invitation, promising her daughter they could celebrate another time. The Poles had not invited her stepfather who was a Muggle.
It had been a magnificent celebration and the Poles invested a good deal of money on it. The press had been there and Carys was also hired. Sophie did not know most of the guests who she had to receive by the door next to Jasper. They wished her a happy birthday and offered her meaningless presents, which she thanked for pretending to be grateful. She thought about her birthdays at Hogwarts at the common commons surrounded by her siblings and friends. The only good moment of the night was when she had to open the dance with Jasper. Mrs. Pole had insisted that Sophie should take dance lessons. She had not been very pleased with Sophie's dancing skills at her wedding and she wanted them to improve in order not to cause any embarrassments in front of her acquaintances. The dance went well and Jasper smiled at her the whole time making her feel safe. Sophie was glad when all was over and she was able to go to bed.
"How is Cecily doing?" Sophie asked Wren.
"She is well. She wrote to me the other day saying she rejoined The Hogwarts Pet Society, and that she is looking for Quidditch practices to start."
"I actually have something for her. My old Supernova broom. She gave it back to me on the Hogwarts Express when the last school year ended. But now I have no use for it. I was thinking about trying to join a Quidditch team at St. Emrys but I know my husband is against that so I was thinking Cecily could keep it for good."
"Are you sure?"
"Yes. I can pass by your house later with it, so you can send it to her," she smiled again.
"Thank you, Sophie." He smiled back.
Something about his smile made her feel happy. But that feeling did not last for long. Sophie started to feel a bit dizzy, and she started to loose control of her legs. She sensed that Wren held her before she reached the ground and then everything went dark.
Sophie woke up in a hospital bed. Jasper was at her side holding her hand.
"Sophie, honey, you are at St. Mungo's. You passed out and Wren brought you here as a precaution. He sent his patronus to warn me. He is outside because since he is not family he was not allowed to enter. How are you feeling, my love?"
"Weak...but all right."
A healer came into the room and presented himself as being Magnus O'Dell. He had a parchment with Sophie's medical information collected by one of the nurses at her arrival.
"What is wrong with my wife?" Jasper asked.
"I am about to find out."
Healer O'Dell approached Sophie. He asked for her permission before he started to analyze her. He made her some questions about her past weeks, what has she been doing and how she has been feeling physically. He gently opened her robes to reveal her belly.
"Is it food poisoning?" Jasper inquired. "I know we shouldn't have had those oysters on your birthday, but Mama insisted..."
"It were not the oysters," O'Dell said.
Her robes were open even more. Sophie felt a little bit embarrassed because the healer could now see her underwear. Jasper watched O'Dell, not quite pleased with his moves. The healer ignored the husband and he passed his wand softly on the lower part of Sophie's belly and muttered a spell. Sophie felt something warm inside of her, as if a candle had been lit. It was a funny feeling that lasted only a few seconds. Healer O'Dell removed the wand and gave permission for Sophie to redress herself.
"So?" Jasper asked with impatience. "What is wrong with her?" He repeated.
"There is nothing wrong with your wife."
Magnus O'Dell turned to Sophie and he smiled at her. "Congratulations Mrs. Pole! You are with child."
The only thing she was able to do was looking at the healer in shock, while Jasper started to laugh in euphoria and happiness at the happy news.
On the Way to Daycare
Author: Illyria
Date: 09-22-19 14:30
Illyria pushed a modern stroller with her youngest snug in the seat and her oldest standing on a skateboard attachment between her and his little brother. At three, Ian was sporty and adventurous, and he just loved standing on the skateboard like a big kid. Little brother Nicholas, who turned one a few weeks ago, studied his surroundings with interest. The three were on the way to Blossom's Daycare.
Nathan took care of the boys every morning before it was time for him to go to work. Before leaving for the office, he made sure Illyria got up, usually enticing her awake with an aromatic cup of coffee. Illyria tended to sleep in a little every morning since her classes ended in the middle of the night. She usually spent time with her boys until about mid-morning, and then the three would set out for the daycare in the village. Nathan always picked up the boys when he got home from work.
The trio were nearly there when a wizard Illyria didn't recognize caught up to her. "Ms. Jones, a word if you please."
Illyria turned and asked, "Who are you?"
The wizard held up the press badge he wore around his neck and said, "Andy Smudgley, reporter for The Daily Prophet. You are Illyria Jones, aren't you?"
Illyria decided she didn't want to correct him, and she also had nothing to say about the whole Death-Eaters-at-Hogwarts situation. "No comment," she said.
"No worries, Ms. Jones. I wasn't going to ask you about Death Eater students," Andy said, correctly interpreting her hesitation to speak to him. "At least, not the way you think."
Illyria pushed the stroller forward again when Ian lamented, "Go, Mummy, go!"
Andy fell into step beside her and said, "What I want to know is how do you feel, as a victim of the Pureblood Movement, about teaching students who aligned themselves with a dark faction known for considering Muggles and Muggle-born wizards as inferior?"
Illyria shook her head as she walked. Ian, glad to be on the move again, exclaimed, "Wheeeeeeeeee!"
"The communities for nons were not created or sponsored by the Death Eaters," Illyria pointed out. "Sure, some were involved, but not because the whole thing had anything to do with the Death Eaters as an entity."
"And with their involvement…" Andy began, but Illyria held up a hand to cut him off. "What's going on at Hogwarts today has nothing to do with what happened over a decade ago."
"And yet, with the return of the Death Eaters, is it not possible that a movement towards suppressing the rights of wizards not of pure blood is on the verge of rising once again? Think of it, Ms. Jones. There's a whole crop of students who just started at Hogwarts who were born in the thick of the Pureblood Movement. They might not remember those dark times, but they may very well be about to relive them. How do you feel knowing that your niece is among them?"
"How do you know about my niece?"
"Her name appears in Children Born in Dark Times, just like your name appears in The Complete History of the Communities for Nons."
Illyria frowned. She wanted to ask how Andy could even link her and Alexandra together, not that she supposed it would be all that hard to find out, but still. Instead, she told him she had a pressing appointment to keep and continued on a direct path to the daycare. Fortunately, the reporter did not follow her.
Illyria kissed her children and gave them giant hugs after dropping them off at the daycare. Ian ran off to play with some of the other children his age, while Nicholas was placed in a bouncer, which contented him for a good while. She peered out the window before setting off for the castle again, but rather than go straight there, she popped into the bookstore, hoping to get her hands on a copy of the first book Andy mentioned. If she couldn't find it there, since it sounded like it was relatively new, then she might try the library instead. Either way, she wanted to know what the book had to say about Alexandra and any other kid born during a not so good time in recent history.
No Energy (Alex)
Author: Plum
Date: 09-23-19 19:57
Yawning, Alex flops back onto his bed. "I wouldn't mind if Astronomy got cancelled."
From his own bed Joe says, "Thought you liked Astronomy."
"I do, or most of the time anyway. Tonight I wish it was earlier, as in already over. I just want to crawl under the covers and not budge until tomorrow."
"Tomorrow afternoon at that," Louis chimes in through his own yawn.
Without moving to look Louis's way Alex asks, "After lunch you mean?"
"Or later."
"We have class until almost three," Joe points out.
"Yeah, but right now nothing but sleep sounds good."
Alex mulls this over then says, "I think I'd sleep until lunch, eat something, then play Quidditch if the weather's good enough or play something in the commons if it's not." Sighing he rolls off his bed with a grunt. "Guess it's about time."
Scooping up his bookbag, Alex shuffles out of the dorm, his roommates trailing behind, matching his less than energetic pace. Alex is fairly sure if he was heading out to a Quidditch in the dark match he'd be as close to sprinting as he could get without actually running in the halls. He's played a few times in the dark, with the balls and brooms illuminated with a soft light. Amazingly, the snitch was no easier to spot and catch.
He wouldn't mind if a few official Hogwarts matches were played that way. Maybe he'll suggest that and for the next trials too. Just for fun. Not that the trials this time weren't fun. They were. Alex participated in hope of being named a Hufflepuff chaser.
One scrimmage he was in was a little weird. Alex had caught a pass from an older Slytherin girl whose name he can never quite remember for some reason. Julie? Jewel? Julia? Something like that he thinks. Alex skirted around one of the seekers then shot straight ahead towards one set of hoops. Nearing them a beater from the other team smacked him good, or is that bad?, with a bludger, causing Alex to fumble the quaffle. An opposing chaser snatched up the red ball then also took a bludger that spun him around a few times. When he got control of his broom, he must have been both dizzy and confused because he threw the quaffle through one of the hoops. The keeper had been so surprised at having one of her own teammates throw the quaffle at one of the hoops she tended that she didn't move. The quaffle soared through the ring with Wiggy Hodfuffer deeming the shot good and a goal for Alex's team.
The other team protested but then it didn't matter if Alex's team had the goal counted for it because the other team's seeker caught the snitch just after, ending the scrimmage with enough of the allotted time left that Alex was disappointed to have to give over the pitch to the two teams playing the next scrimmage.
Reaching the Astronomy tower, Alex yawns again, wondering why the thought of class makes him so sleepy right now but he bets if Professor Goode suggested instead of regular classwork they all go out and play the nighttime version of Quidditch he loves, he'd be the first to the pitch, eager, energetic, and ready to play.
Close Encounter Of The Smirt Kind
Author: Dante Knight
Date: 09-25-19 19:42
After his office hours ended at 2:30 Dante had gone for a run. Returning to the castle, now hot and sweaty, Dante climbs one set of stairs after another to his sixth floor flat to clean up and change clothes before taking dinner in the Great Hall. His door in sight and no one else around, he sheds his damp t-shirt, using it to wipe his face with one hand while reaching to unlock the door with his other. He jumps and whirls around at the same time when a voice says, "Nakedness in the hallways is not appropriate with impressionable minds about."
Eugene Smirt jots in his ever present notebook, making a noncommittal sound at Dante's, "Being shirtless is hardly being naked. As I didn't see anyone about and was nearly at my door," he jerks at thumb towards said door, "and as I am burning up, I didn't think there was any harm."
Smirt makes the sound again then turns as if to go. Moving back towards his door Dante rolls his eyes. He rolls them a second time when Smirt speaks again. "During the years your family was on the run, how often did your parents meet with Death Eaters?"
Pivoting, Dante suppresses a sigh. "As far as I know, never. My parents were not Death Eaters nor were they affiliated with Voldemort in any capacity."
"They commonly used dark arts."
"That doesn't mean they supported Voldemort or that they ever worked with him."
"If you were recruiting students to the dark arts, would you admit it?"
This time Dante neither suppresses the sigh nor hides rolling his eyes. He also doesn't bother to hide his irritation at the question. "What possible reason would I have?"
"There is a saying. Perhaps you've heard it. The apple does not fall far from the tree."
"I am not now nor have I ever been a dark arts practitioner nor have I ever advocated for the dark arts."
There's the noncommittal sound and more scribbling in the notebook. Smirt looks up from his task to say, "I do hope if dining in the Great Hall this evening you will be fully clothed." Head bent over the notebook, he walks away.
Slowly shaking his head, Dante watches him go before finally entering his flat, now wanting to wash off both the sweat from his run and the grime he now feels from this Smirt encounter.