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Mint Green (Catriona)
Author: Fionna
Date: 06-16-12 11:38
Just inside the doors of the Great Hall Catriona Amherst stops, spins around, takes half a step back the opposite direction and gives Polly Potts a slightly impatient stare. She tugs Polly's hand, "Come on."
"No, I've changed my mind. Besides I'll probably just stick with Ancient Runes and Muggle Studies."
Beside Cat Bianca Bonfamille sighs. "True, but you said you'd come and consider the other options."
"It's not as if there are lots of them," Polly counters. "Arithmancy & Divination and Care of Magical Creatures. If there were more to choose from, then maybe."
Cat gives a more insistent tug, reminding Polly, "We're blocking the doorway."
"Then let go my hand and I'll see you two later." Polly tugs back.
"You're being silly, Polly."
Polly's free hand goes to her hair, patting down a nonexistant stray lock. "Everyone will stare."
Seeing someone approaching behind Polly, Cat gives a firmer tug. Polly is pulled forward so suddenly, Cat imagines she hears an audible sucking pop as Polly's feet break free from the spot to which they'd been rooted. Now that she's in the Great Hall, Cat and Bianca guide Polly out of the walkway to stand to one side of the entrance.
As all this is happening, Bianca has pointed out to Polly, "Everyone saw you at breakfast and lunch so it's not like you are some brand new novelty for them to all come rushing to see."
"My hair is green. Of course they'll still stare," Polly says with hiccupy hiss as she tries not to start crying again.
Cat gives a sympathetic smile. "It's a very lovely shade of pale mint. You should pretend it's what you want. Lots of people use hair dyes."
"The girl responsible knows and so do her friends I bet. Why would someone ruin my shampoo?"
"Why do you think?" Bianca asks. "You've got the eye of Gus the Stud."
"Glaring at me and making snotty comments isn't enough? Someone had to jinx my shampoo? Not only that, it has to be a Gryffindor."
"That''s a good point," Cat concedes. "Unless someone has mastered summoning at long distances and summoned your shampoo, did whatever was done, and then also has mastered the spell to return objects to their places."
Bianca shrugs. "Doesn't matter who did it. I say own the look. You covered well at breakfast and lunch so keep it up. Don't give the satisfaction that you hate the color and are upset and angry."
Cat nods her head towards the tables set up for Course Day. "Let's get started so that we'll be done all the quicker. Anyway, for all you know, Gus van Tassel will find your minty hair fetching."
Bianca snorts with humor. "Trust a Ravenclaw to find a way to work fetching into a sentence and not mean something a dog is doing with a ball."
Bolstered by her two best friends Polly takes a deep breath and allows them to lead her to the nearest table. With Cat and Bianca being sixth years in the fall, they get to choose every course they will take on the condition that they meet the minimum requirements set by each professor to take the various NEWT level courses. Polly eyes dart constantly around, wondering if Gus is here already and wondering whether he'd noticed her hair at either meal today. Suppressing a sniff she pats her hair again, deciding that the color really isn't all that horrid.
Runes (AJ)
Author: Furnella Hodfuffer
Date: 06-16-12 14:57
"You know, Professor Hodfuffer, I think runes are interesting but, no offense, what's the point of studying them for an entire term, or making it a career?"
AJ nods. "Excellent question, and no offense taken. In the Wizarding World, runes have an important place. A rune alone can be powerful if used properly. When combined with others runes offer protection, strength, harmony, and too many others to list unless you want to be here awhile. Runes may also be used as divination tools. Additionally, there are advanced spells that involve more than just waving your wand and properly intoning a spell. Some such spells involve the use of runes. Without them, the magic won't work or if the runes are used improperly, the end result can be disastrous."
"Are any of those spells taught here?"
"We touch on some of the more minor ones in the seventh year course."
The second year picks up one of the items AJ has on his table. "This is a bracelet?"
"Yes, adding runes to jewelry has been done for a very long time, in both our world and the Muggle one."
"This one is pretty." The one now in question is a combination of wood and stone.
"Take my course and you can make one for yourself or as a gift."
"Third years get to do that?"
"I put aside time in all years for it because it's both popular among the students and because the students are so interested they better remember the meaning and symbolisms of the runes used."
"Cool! I think I'd like to take Ancient Runes but I won't know for sure what I'm allowed to take until I talk with my parents. They have to sign the form to turn in."
"I completely understand. Here is some information to take and if you or your parents have questions, I will be happy to sit down and discuss them."
"Thank you."
The second year moves along, momentarily leaving AJ to think about an obstacle he's reached with a plot twist for the current mystery novel he's writing. When he gets really stuck, he'll work on the non-fiction book that Zabrynna's been helping him with organizing photographs, documents, and everything else that goes with writing non-fiction. His mind also turns to the cook-out Mariposa and he are giving tomorrow afternoon between lunch and dinner at Hogwarts. It's a come and go and the timing is so that there will always be staff on hand to keep an eye on the students, particularly at noon and evening mealtimes.
Another second year is approaching his table to AJ puts his mind back on talking up Ancient Runes to those unsure about what electives to take when the 2006-2007 term begins in September.
Lunch Companion
Author: Furnella Hodfuffer
Date: 06-16-12 16:15
Now that the lunch rush is over, I go to the kitchen to try and decide what to eat myself. My appetite is still somewhat off but with Phlagmelina nagging me half the morning about eating something, I think she implanted the thought in my head that I am actually a little hungry. One of today's lunch specials had been a lovely grilled dover sole with ginger cream sauce served over a bed of herbed rice. I select some steamed vegetables to go with it and go out into the main dining room to sit at a booth to eat.
I've not been there above five minutes when someone slides into the seat opposite. "You've lost weight since last I saw you. You already look good. You don't need to keep dropping pounds."
"Hello to you too, Max. It's been a long while."
Max Black reaches for one of the hot buttery rolls recently deposited on the table by one of the staff, probably at Phlagmelina's behest, Breaking off a piece he shrugs, "Work's kept me busy," before popping the yeasty dough in his mouth.
"You know, you never have said what line of work that is. Whenever it's mentioned, you've changed that subject."
"Have I? I guess I'm not much of one to talk work when I'm not working. Your fish looks good. Maybe that's what I'll order." Max waggles a finger at Kaylee then points to my plate. She nods in understanding, going to the kitchen to put in his order.
"There you go again."
Max gives me a puzzled frown.
"Changing the subject. What work do you do?"
Another shrug, another piece of roll popped into his mouth. Max chews slowly as I watch him, not about to let him squirm out of answering this one simple question.
Noting my fixed, determined stare he grins. "Nothing glamorous. Import-export."
"Import-export of what?"
"Lots of different merchandise. I just got back from Malaysia where I was making arrangements to buy some very high end hand made, hand carved teak furniture. Before that I was in the US, the Pacific Northwest specifically, looking over some unique, hand made jewelry."
"Sounds interesting."
"It can be but all the travel can be tiring."
I quiz him a little on some of the places he's been, studying him as he talks. While there is a resemblance to Forest, now I so notice all the differences I can't believe I ever thought Max was Forest. When his food arrives, Max steers the conversation back onto me, wanting to know what compelled me to go on a diet.
"It's nothing I've done on purpose. I was slightly depressed for a little while and then I was sick with a flu that just did not want to go away. Since then my appetite has been off."
"You aren't anorexic are you?"
The question makes me laugh. "Heavens, no. I like chocolate and other sweets far too for that."
"In that case, if you're free tonight, would you like to get dinner with me?"
I laugh again. "We're in the middle of lunch."
"So."
I am actually free. I'd been at the Crown & Cauldron since about 5:30 this morning. A group of ladies had rented out one of the private rooms for a breakfast meeting and there was all the regular morning duties that go with having a restaurant, even one that doesn't do a regular breakfast. For example, someone had to look over the Dover sole when it arrived this morning then sign for it. Some mornings are even earlier for whomever has the first shift because of the need to go to the market at the crack of dawn to select fresh produce, see what meats, including fish, are available, and all that other fun stuff. With Phin grown and out of the house, I don't mind the early mornings as much though now I have Bogart and Bacall, I hate being away from them the extra time.
After a moment of silent thinking, all too aware of Max's eyes on me, I finally say, "Okay, I'll have dinner with you."
"Great! I'd suggest this perfect place called the Crown & Cauldron, but I'm thinking you might like something else for a change."
"I do love this place, but yes, a change now and again is nice."
Our talk turns to other restaurants, trying to decide where we might go tonight and how dressed up we want to get. By the time lunch is over and Max has left, I'm ready to get home. I want to cuddle with my puppies, get in a short nap, and then have a date to get ready for.
Forfeited Match
Author: Ginny Weasley
Date: 06-16-12 20:07
Stepping through the front door of Grove's End, Ginny sets her athletic bag at the base of a coatrack, props her broom against the wall behind the coatrack, then makes her way to the master bedroom where she drops a small overnight type case to the floor in front of an armoire. The house seems unnaturally quiet and walking to the kitchen her footsteps seem to echo more loudly than usual. Through one window she sees Hedwig on a perch they'd put out for her, wings spread wide as if enjoying the mild sunshine.
After watching Hedwig for three or four seconds Ginny pours a small glass of grape juice and takes it to the family room. Stopping long enough to flick on the wireless and tuning it to a Quidditch match she sits in her favorite chair, feet tucked under her, sipping her juice. Feeling slightly chilled she eyes the fireplace but then settles on warming up with an afghan knitted years ago by her mum.
The Harpies were supposed to be playing a match today in Poland. They'd gone yesterday to get in practice time on the pitch, spent the night even though there's only an hour time difference from Great Britain, and got in some drills at dawn only to have the other team officially forfeit just before the match was set to begin. So many of that team's players ill with such a nasty strain of flu that most with it could barely stand much less sit a broom while performing with the coordination required at the professional level of Quidditch.
Ginny hated not getting to play. All the Holyhead Harpies were disappointed for that matter. Worse, all those people who'd expected an exciting match only to find part of their morning and afternoon free had the additional frustration of standing in long lines waiting to get tickets reimbursed. Harry and a few other members of the family had come but unless they decided to do some sightseeing or shopping, they should have all gotten back to the UK before her because the Harpies head coach decided that as long as they were on a pitch and ready to play, the team could get in some additional practice. Harry had let her know he was going to make himself finish up some paperwork at the Ministry so she presumes that's where he is right now.
Closing her eyes, Ginny is more than a little tired thanks to getting up so very early for those drills. She's also slightly nauseous and is starting to regret drinking even the small amount of grape juice she'd had a few minutes ago. As chilled as she is, Ginny concludes she's coming down with the flu, though can't imagine who she caught it from because none of the Harpies were around anyone from the other team that she knows of.
Wrapping the afghan around her shoulders, Ginny turns off the wireless, takes her empty juice glass to the kitchen, then returns to the master bedroom to crawl into bed, suddenly not as disappointed afterall in no match being played today.
Possible Electives (Jade & Hunter)
Author: Emerald Green
Date: 06-16-12 22:41
As she enters the Great Hall with her twin Jade pulls a packet of cookies from her pocket. Tearing it open and pulling out a small round of shortbread she has the thought that these are the only cookies that sort of, though not really, look like biscuits. As yet, she's never found anyone who can explain to her satisfaction why people over here call cookies biscuits. Her dad would sometimes forget and call them biscuits but when she or her siblings would ask him how come they're called different names he'd say it was just one of those things, sort of like how Americans say bandaids and the British tend to say plasters. As a Ravenclaw, Jade has more and more found she greatly dislikes such responses that don't actually answer anything. She'd much prefer if someone would simply just admit to not knowing. Popping another shortbread round into her mouth Jade makes a mental note to look up the whole cookies-biscuit question before the weekend is over.
Sensing eyes on her, Jade glances at Hunter, holding the packet of cookies out to him. Even as he stuffs two in his mouth and takes another three he asks, "Where'd you get these?"
"The commons. There are different kinds."
"Like what?"
"Chocolate chip, only you know how over here they don't say chocolate chip. They say chocolate drop and stuff like that. Same difference."
"Yeah."
"Oatmeal raisin, peanut butter, lemon, sugar, and apple cinnamon. There might be some others. There's Arithmancy & Divination and next to it is Muggle Studies. You think that's because Professors Sacheverelle and Miller are married?"
"Yeah, probably. How come she's not Miller too? Or isn't her dad's last name Porter like her brother's is?"
"Emmie said it's because she was married before and decided not to change her name so that no one would have to say which Professor Miller."
"Makes sense I guess." Hunter holds out his hand. "Have anymore of those cookies?"
Jade divvies up the rest of the packet between them. "I sort of want to take Muggle Studies because it would be fun to get to spend time around normal stuff, you know? At the same time "
"You aren't sure if you want one of your two electives to be something you pretty much know all about. Yeah, same here. I'm pretty sure I want Care of Magical Creatures. Fitness & "
"Athletics is a given. What are your thoughts on A&D?"
"Okay, I guess; not sure really. Why can't we have a few elective choices like woodshop or band?"
"You only want band so you can play drums."
"Nothing wrong with playing drums."
"I didn't say there is. Why woodshop?"
Hunter's shoulders bob up then down. "In movies and on tv guys always have woodshop or metal shop. Ooooooh. I know. We should have a fishing elective?"
"Fishing?"
"Yep, fishing." Hunter's eyes glaze over and he gets a blissful, far away expression on his face. "Think how much fun it would be getting to fish nearly every week or maybe even every week, despite the weather. In winter, there could be ice fishing. We'd learn how to make our own flies and different casting techniques."
Jade rolls her eyes. "You are so weird sometimes." She taps his arm and points, "With A&D and Muggle Studies both right there, we might as well start with them."
Sighing at being pulled from his happy day dream, Hunter allows his twin to pull him over to the Arithmancy & Divination table as their first stop in helping them figure out what electives to take third year.
Not The Saturday Planned
Author: Harry Potter
Date: 06-17-12 10:25
Spending a few hours at the Ministry catching up on paperwork had not been part of Harry's Saturday plan. With the Holyhead Harpie's winning their Quidditch match before it had even begun, his plans had rapidly changed. If Ginny had been free, he would have suggested taking in a little of Krakow, even if all they did was roam hand in hand through some of the more historic sections. The Harpies head coach had other ideas and Harry didn't want to thrust himself on any of the others who'd come for the match just so he'd have something to do. He considered doing a little sightseeing on his own but though he has nothing against doing such things by oneself, Harry thought it would be nice to wait and do those things for the first time when Ginny could be there.
With a stacks of files and paperwork hiding the top of his desk from view, much as he hated to several hours of the morning and early afternoon on such a nice Saturday sitting in a cubicle from which he's got a quarter view of one of the faux Ministry windows, that is exactly what Harry decided to do. Might as well spend his sudden free time being productive and have that much less to do Monday morning. Though the Ministry is never truly devoid of staff, even the offices of the Auror Division always seem much quieter most weekends. Without as many distractions to slow his work and because much as he wanted to invent a few distractions Harry forced himself to stay on task, he made quite a bit of progress.
More than ready for a break from the tedium and realizing he'd never eaten lunch, Harry arrives home to Grove's End with a mind of going straight to the kitchen to make a sandwich from some of the pot roast left over from dinner last night. Noticing Ginny's game bag near the coat rack when he comes in, Harry walks in the direction of the kitchen, now more to see if she's there. He searches the other rooms in the front part of the house before walking in the direction of the bedrooms.
"Ginny?"
Entering their bedroom he finds her curled up, eyes closed. Carefully crawling onto the bed to snuggle next to her, he softly says, "Ginny?"
Without turning or opening her eyes, she drowsily asks, "Get your paperwork done?"
"Yeah, most of it. Have you been home long?"
"No, or at least I don't think so. If I fell asleep more soundly than I thought, then I have no idea how long it's been."
Reaching a hand up to touch Ginny's brow he asks, "Are you okay?"
"I don't know. I'm tired mainly but I may have picked up a touch of something. I was a little nauseous earlier but it seems to have passed."
"You think you have whatever it is that caused the forfeit?"
"That had crossed my mind but that's a flu and real flu doesn't cause stomach upset."
"You going to be up for Hermione's party tonight?"
"Yeah, I think so. I just want to sleep a little longer, maybe eat a little soup."
"I was going to fix me a sandwich. How about I get you some soup while I'm at it?"
"Yes, thank you."
Rolling away from Ginny then easing off the bed, Harry returns to the kitchen. He'll have his sandwich first to give Ginny a little longer to nap them heat up her soup. After that, if she wants to nap more, he wouldn't mind snuggling up next to her for a little while just as long as they are up, awake, and presentable for Ron's party for Hermione tonight.
Saint Tropez - Pot, Kettle
Author: Lucius Malfoy
Date: 06-17-12 15:07
Barty Crouch, Jr. stands on the terrace taking in deep lungfuls of the salty air gently wafting in from the direction of the beach, carrying with it the soft sounds of slow rolling surf. Finally turning to join Bellatrix and Lucius at a table Barty comments to neither in particular, "Nothing against Venice, as it is a perfectly quaint city, but the air is much fresher here."
Looking up from swirling the wine in her glass Bellatrix smirks. "Yes, but my Venice house has a far more interesting history than this little place of Lucius's."
Lucius pulls his attention from where Carina is playing with Bellatrix's pet pig Catweazle. "Trust you to find a woman's slow descent into madness that ended with her being carted away after she'd murdered three Muggles and four of her family members in rather disturbing fashion interesting, Bellatrix."
"Absolutely. It's positively riveting. In fact, I've been thinking of letting Terrortours include the house in one of their packages; just for the summer months, of course, when Venice tends to be somewhat intolerable as a place to live."
"When you make such statements, Bellatrix, I have cause to question just how much of your sanity you have recovered."
"My proposal to break Rudolphus and Rabastan from Azkaban is met with a slight roll of the eyes but an idea to include my house in a tour package during those months I will most certainly be living elsewhere raises a concern over my sanity? You always were ever so droll, Lucius."
Bellatrix's peel of laughter rings across the terrace. She drains her wine glass then holds it out to Lucius. "More, please."
Lucius uncorks the bottle and obligingly fills her glass. "What about you, Barty?"
"Yes, thank you."
Barty pushes his glass towards Lucius who half rises to better reach. In the process an envelope of obviously good stationary quality slips from his pocket. Bellatrix catches it before it reaches the ground, ready to hand it to Lucius once he's reseated. That's before the return address catches her eye.
"Why in Merlin's name has that old bat Cloris Mockridge written you?"
Lucius puts out his hand for the letter. "Come now, she's not all that much older than you and I."
Bellatrix gives an indelicate, derisive snort. "Please. She's far older than we three."
"Barty is in his 40s, you and I are in our 50s."
"Cloris Mockridge is 80 if she's a day."
Barty guffaws at that and says without a trace of sarcasm. "Not at all like you to exaggerate so, Bellatrix."
"Her oldest can't have been much younger than you, Barty," Bellatrix says with a haughty sniff.
Taking a sip of his own wine Lucius corrects, "I might be mistaken but I believe if he had lived he would be in his late 20s to early 30s."
Bellatrix snorts again. Lucius swears that it's only a matter of time before she starts making snuffling noises like her pig. "The one who had the child, correct? Brat must be nineteen or twenty by now."
"The girl is eleven and only recently so."
Bellatrix frowns as she ingests this bit of information then, tired of quibbling about ages, she asks, "How did the old biddy even know how to reach you?"
"The same way you did. I told her."
Barty's, "How are the Mockridges?" is drowned by Bellatrix's, "What in Merlin's name for? Cloris Mockridge is a manipulative, scheming old witch."
"That's rather the pot and kettle, isn't it?" Lucius dryly inquires.
Bellatrix waves the comment away. "Has she finally made you an offer of marriage? After Mockridge died, Cloris had an eye on you. Frankly, it's shocking she's waited so long after Narcissa's death."
Lucius does roll his eyes now. "Cloris has no marriage designs on me."
Barty, though joking, adds fuel to Bellatrix's fire. "That you know of."
Bellatrix smugly, as if Barty and she share a secret, arches her eyebrows at his comment. "If not you, then what is it? Draco. That's it, isn't it? Wants to marry that one girl of hers to him. Have I mentioned she's always been a schemer after power?"
"Did you not hear the pot and kettle comment? And no, she has not suggested a marriage between Nephele and Draco. Cloris is well aware he just got married to Asteria Greengrass. If you recall, she attended the wedding."
Bellatrix slams her hand down on the table, another trill of laughter filling the air. "That's who that was. The whole wedding and reception I kept trying to put my finger on who exactly this one hag of a woman was. It was Cloris Mockridge."
"Is there a reason you are being overly unkind to one of our own, Bellatrix? Cloris is a striking woman who, in my opinion, looks younger than she is."
Barty takes a gulp of wine. "I might be able to enlighten you there, Lucius. Once, the Dark Lord praised Cloris highly while hardly saying two words to our dear Bellatrix. Listening to her now, I have concluded she has never forgiven Cloris for the Dark Lord's snub."
Bellatrix's brow puckers as she petulantly says, "I was his favorite so the least he could have done is voiced his pleasure at the mission I'd just done."
Lucius and Barty exchange a look. Only a woman would begrudge another for decades a few words of praise the other had received.
After a few seconds of silence Lucius asks, "Other than that, you are friends with Cloris?"
"Well, yes, I suppose, that despite all her manipulations and quest for power, she is an all right sort, and we could be, on some scale, considered friends."
"With regard to being manipulative and wanting more power, once again I must point out. Pot. Kettle."
Twirling her wine glass in her fingers Bellatrix grins. "What can I say? I was born Black, afterall."
The two men roll their eyes as Lucius tops off all their glasses with more wine.