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Spic-and-Span
Author: Hermione Granger
Date: 06-17-12 17:31
Hermione gave the interior of her home a critical appraisal. She and Ron had cleaned the place from top to bottom, but somehow it didn't seem quite tidy enough for the party they were hosting tonight. The party was in her honor, commemorating her long overdue graduation from the healing program at St. Emrys. It should have taken six straight years to accomplish, but her stint on the run during the governance of former Minister of Magic Euphemia Smythe-Jones had thrown a wrench into Hermione's plans.
Already, Hermione was thinking of continuing her education. She had a great interest in spell research, especially when it related to healing, and had quite enjoyed her last rotation in the Spell Research Laboratory at St. Mungo's Hospital. But with the baby on the way, Hermione felt it best to wait on resuming her studies––at least formally. She would always have her books.
In the meantime, she'd secured a permanent position at St. Mungo's in Spell Damage. All entry level healers were considered Trainee Healers, which should not to be confused with the Student Healers from the university healing program. Hermione was set to start working as a Trainee Healer in the Emergency Ward.
Her former classmates, all of whom were invited to the party tonight, had also been hired on at St. Mungo's: Imogene Li in Pediatric Care, Philomena Patil in Magical Bugs and Orson Rush in Neurology. Caldonia Black, the lone member in their group besides Fletcher Harrison to have graduated on time, still worked in Spell Damage and specialized in Transfiguration Mishaps.
"Stop scrutinizing," Ron told Hermione. He carried two sacks of ice and dumped them into a large chest, which he planned on filling with bottles of butterbeer.
"I'm not scrutinizing," Hermione replied. She leaned over the back of the sofa to check for cat hair and loose threads.
Ron turned to his wife. "Yes, you are. This place is spic-and-span, or as spic-and-span as it can get with pets in the house." He took her by the shoulders and turned her so that she had no choice but to look up at him. "Relax. Promise me you will."
Hermione smiled up at him. "I promise, but––"
"No buts," Ron interjected, shaking his head. "Grab one of your many books and sit somewhere while I finish getting things ready for tonight."
"I can help."
"You've already done a lot. Let me handle the rest. This party is for you, after all."
Hermione reluctantly relented. "All right, but if you need me––"
"Then I'll ask." Ron pecked her on the lips and then steered her in the direction of the library.
Hermione went over to the wall of bookshelves and selected one of her old textbooks. She had an excellent memory, but it never hurt to review old material. After nudging Crookshanks from her armchair, Hermione sat down with her knees up, using her thighs as a bookrest.
After a few minutes, she noticed Crookshanks playing with something on the floor. Hermione squinted, and then got out of the chair to better see what had drawn the old cat's attention.
"A dust bunny!" she exclaimed.
The mass of fluff had come from under the desk and was just the right size and shape to make it the perfect plaything for Crookshanks. He didn't want to give it up, but Hermione needed to get rid of it.
"'Spic-and-span' he says," she grumbled, now on her hands and knees and using her wand to zap away all the particles of dust she saw on the hardwood floor.
"Oi!" Ron exclaimed sometime later when he discovered Hermione feverishly cleaning the library floor. "What happened to you relaxing with a book?"
Hermione crawled out from beneath the desk and got to her feet. "I was, but then Crookshanks found a dust bunny, Ron. A dust bunny!" The last words were said with a note of hysteria in her voice.
"New plan," Ron decided, seizing Hermione by the hand. "I'm going to draw you a bath. You will soak in the tub beneath a mound of bubbles, all right? And I don't want to catch you scrubbing at the tile with a toothbrush or pulling hair from the drain."
Hermione frowned. "Why would I do that?"
They were in the bathroom now. Ron started filling the tub and then turned to Hermione. "That's a rhetorical question, isn't it?"
"I wasn't aware you knew what rhetorical meant," Hermione replied. She smiled at him impishly.
Ron rolled his eyes. "How could my vocabulary not expand when I'm with you? Now get in the bath." He waited for her to rid herself of her clothing and sink into the warm, bubbly water before he stepped from the bathroom to continue getting things ready for the party.
Hermione put her head back and shut her eyes. Perhaps if she put her mind to it, she could truly relax and not fuss over dust bunnies and mildew.
(Luke) Decisions
Author: Johanna Steele
Date: 06-18-12 03:54
Luke took a good look into a crystal ball that was placed at the Arithmancy & Divination booth. He wondered if he could see the future but there was nothing in it but a white blank swirl.
"Impressive isn't it?"
His cousin Evelyn was right next to him staring at the crystal ball as well. Unlike Luke she didn't seem disappointed with it. She actually looked marveled and excited.
"Are you seeing something?" he asked to her.
Evelyn replied negatively with her head.
"Not yet but after some classes I'm sure I will. It's going to be exciting to be able to see a glimpse of the future and make predictions. I already asked my mother to get me my own Tarot card deck, so I can start practicing during the summer holidays."
"So you're going to pick Arithmancy & Divination as an elective?"
"Yes. And Ancient Runes too. It was an easy decision, really."
"Let me guess, you're not attracted by Muggles or magical creatures."
"Exactly. What about you? Have you figured out what you'll pick for next year?"
Luke shrugged his shoulders. He still wasn't sure which courses he would like to take next year. His parents didn't make any demands, they told him to choose the ones he wanted. Luke was grateful for this Course Day. Hopefully he would leave the Great Hall with a decision taken. Luke left Evelyn with the crystal ball and met Edgar at the Muggle Studies booth. He seemed a bit disappointed when he greeted Luke.
"What's the matter?"
"My parents don't want me to take Muggle Studies, but I have been talking to Professor Miller and I want to know all about their telephones, or whatever they're called. They don't use owls you know? But my parents think Muggle Studies won't be a useful course to take, so I'll guess I'll pick Ancient Runes. Better than Arithmancy & Divination. My sister is driving me crazy with it, although I would love to see her in class trying to make a prediction on her crystal ball and not be able to see a thing in it but that bloody white swirl. "
They both laughed at the vision of Evelyn failing in her class, when she was already telling, for those who listen to her how, what a great Seer she was going to become. Alcmene joined Luke and Edgar after a while inviting them to come and check the Care for Magical Creatures booth. The three Gryffindors walked together towards Professor Kent's booth, all eager to learn more about his subject.
Care of Magical Creatures
Author: Jolyon
Date: 06-18-12 18:09
At first glance, the rather large box on Professor Kent's table contained six romping Jack Russell Terrier puppies. A closer inspection showed that the little dogs weren't the mundane variety of terrier at all. They were crups, as evidenced by their forked tails.
Hagrid had procured the crup puppies sometime between yesterday afternoon when Jolyon had left Hogwarts to attend his father's funeral and this morning when he'd met Hagrid in the stables before breakfast. Hagrid had thought showing off the puppies during today's Course Day would attract students to Care of Magical Creatures.
Jolyon wasn't certain about that, although they did at least seem to draw students to his table. A group of them swarmed him now.
Alcmene Acker clutched one of the squirming puppies to her chest. It licked at her face and wagged its forked tail. The puppy in Luke Walker's arms nipped at the one his cousin Edgar Steele held. Edgar's puppy let out a high-pitched yip and then nipped its sibling back.
"They're so cute," Alcmene gushed, snuggling her face into the puppy's soft fur.
"Yes," Professor Kent agreed, "they are, and they are good dogs, too––if you're a wizard."
"What does that mean?" Edgar questioned.
"Well, you could say that crups have superiority complexes," Professor Kent explained. "They don't like Muggles."
"Have they been known to cause problems for Muggles?" Luke asked.
"It happens, which is why the ownership of crups is regulated by the Ministry of Magic. These are still quite young, but they will require licenses soon. Not only that," Professor Kent added, "the forked end of their tail will need to be removed."
Alcmene looked upset. "What? Why?"
"In case they ever come into contact with Muggles. Muggle terriers don't have forked tails."
Alcmene still didn't like the idea of the crup puppy in her arms having to endure surgery. She kissed its head numerous times and then gently returned it to the box on the table.
"It's painless, I assure you," Professor Kent said. He used to work in a veterinary clinic, so he knew from experience that the crup puppies didn't feel anything when the Severing Charm was used.
Alcmene didn't look convinced.
Jolyon decided to change the subject. "So, are you lot interested in taking my class?"
Milling About the Great Hall - Pondering Muggle Studies
Author: Rylee
Date: 06-18-12 19:12
Wandering the Great Hall for the event titled Course Day, which was essentially a showcase of the elective options for the students starting third year, Rylee pondered her own options. Her parents had already began discussing how the remainder of her schooling would go, and as they had to sign off on the electives that their daughter chose they would of course ultimately be the ones controlling it this time next year when it came her turn to actually begin focusing on the selection of electives.
They had even discussed it briefly via owl leading up to the current event being held today and Rylee was currently not pleased with the way things were panning out. Superiority of the Marks family was quickly coming to the fore as she was told flat out that she was not going to be allowed to take Muggle Studies, she was not allowed to even consider it as an elective because it was not considered proper for a Marks when they were still in their primary years of education.
She was currently thinking of ways to circumnavigate her parent's aversion to her taking Muggle Studies because it truly was something that interested her - especially considering her mother's obsession with Muggle fashion designers. Either way, she was in much better spirits this weekend after having returned this past Sunday from time home for her Grandmother's funeral and the reading of her will. Inheritance would be waiting for Rylee upon her seventeenth birthday, with an allowance granted each year for personal expenditures and other necessities including spending money when she reached her third year and could go to the village.
Rylee at the moment currently stood looking over the Care of Magical Creatures booth and the crups that Professor Kent had on display, and they were adorable, her sister had pondered getting one if the restrictions hadn't been so tedious with the Ministry thanks to the creature's superiority complex and their dislike muggles.
She moved on toward the Arithmancy and Divination booth as well as the Muggle Studies booth, wanting to talk to Professor Miller about muggle studies and ways that she could perhaps convince her parents to let her take the course when she reached her third year. This, by far is more initiative than Rylee has taken in her courses since she started at Hogwarts this past September, and perhaps things were turning around for the first year Slytherin, perhaps this may also be a sign that she is growing up.
Names and Dates
Author: Phyllida
Date: 06-19-12 02:35
From the dark recesses of Phyllida's memory, Professor Snape's dry, humourless voice repeated the same words. This clumsily written verse was penned, I regret to say, by your own father…
She fingered the dry, crumbling leather of the cover, flicking through the marbled, brownish frontispiece. The swirls of pigment around her father's inky hand seemed like clouds of dried blood. The book has been enchanted as so to differentiate the taste of a pureblood from half-breeds and muggle-borns.
"Why are we doing this again?" Nathaniel asked, twirling his hazel wand between his fingers. "I'm sure Snape asked you to leave it alone for a reason."
"That's Professor Snape," muttered Phyllida, elbowing him sharply. He winced. "And because I want to know. You are going to help me find out."
She placed the thin blade of her quill knife on his open palm.
Nathaniel's face fell. "Why do I have to do it?"
"Professor Snape said any pureblood will do. You'll find it easier explaining your hand slipped while sharpening your quill than I will. Nobody would suspect you of meddling with Blood Magic."
"Right. I'd forgotten about your 'accident' in fourth year."
"That was no accident," she hissed. "I had just borrowed some of Papa's old books to see if they could help with Defense Against the Dark Arts."
"Uh, yes." Nathaniel looked at the quill knife, retracting the blade from the silver handle.
"You won't need much, just a few drops," Phyllida explained. "Give me your hand."
He extended his hand gingerly, closing his eyes tightly.
Phyllida laughed, kissing his palm. "I won't hurt you much, I promise."
"I'm not reassured. You like hurting me."
"Only when you deserve it," she said, pressing the blade against the soft mound of his thumb. His brows trembled a little with surprise, but she caught his hand and touched it to the swirling pages before he could protest. His eyes flew open as the smear of blood disappeared into the page, and momentarily, the brownish swirls glowed the vivid red of fresh blood.
And, as if a quill was scratching the other side of the page, a line appeared in thin, black ink, all curving extenders and pointed flourishes.
Hands off, Mudblood.
"What?" Nathaniel shut the cover furiously. "That thing called me a mudblood?"
"Well…it's old, it might have gotten confused. Give it here."
He gave her the knife and book without protest, sucking on his thumb grudgingly.
She set the shining edge of the blade against her palm – it still glistened with Nathaniel's blood.
And the knife cut deeper than she'd intended; she gasped as blood splattered over the open pages. For moments, nothing happened, aside from Nathaniel'd horrified face as he clasped his hands over her bleeding one, and she felt sick at the sight of her own dark blood, and clammy shivers ran through her skin. And then the blank pages started to fill with lines of brown ink in a steady and even hand – each line unwaveringly straight and carefully spaced. No secret and horrific curses of legend, no ghastly illustrations – just line after line of names followed by dates. Names followed by dates, names followed by dates…
"Oh shit. It's a fucking record."
Nathaniel flicked through the book, scanning the pages. "Emeric the Evil, 1452. Egbert the Egregious, 1478. It looks like something Professor Binns would have written in his spare time."
"Is there anything else?" she asked, voice quaking in urgency. "Flip to the end."
"It ends with a wizard called Arcus Grimshaw."
"Oh. He was my great-great-grandfather. He was murdered in a duel with his brother-in-law. I don't understand what he has to do with any of these others…"
Nathaniel sighed. "That's enough for now. Let's get you to the hospital wing – I'll do the explaining."
Lounging with Blake
Author: Charisma Stone
Date: 06-19-12 17:38
Isma and Blake were currently curled up on a couch in the Gryffindor commons, having spent most of the morning and into the afternoon doing homework since they couldn't go to the lesson this morning and had no intention of adding any further electives to their coursework next year. At the moment they were sharing a rather large cupcake that they'd grabbed from the Common Commons and headed back to their house earlier.
"What are we doing this summer?" Blake asked as they lounged, finally done with homework for the weekend.
"I don't know yet, I know we've got that Quidditch thing that we are going to at the end of July, and then that's about it. Though, I think Charlie and his family want me to go with them to Ireland for a week in August before he goes back to school."
Blake nodded. "Sounds like a plan, and how is Charlie doing lately? I know there was that issue with his dad or something and things were kinda dicey there for a while."
"He's doing alright. Mum sent me the post yesterday and there was a letter from Charlie in there," Isma said snuggling into Blake a bit more and stealing the last bit of cupcake for herself.
Blake chuckled and kept his arm wrapped around her and flicked his gaze over the commons, there were some upper years, mainly seventh years that were working on NEWT preparation for the coming months as their exams were closing in, and there were even some fifth years who were currently working on OWL preparations for the coming months because their exams were coming as well.
"To think, this year could have been a lot more stressful than it already was," he mused with a slight tightening of his arms around Charisma as they both thought of what the past two years had done to them and how it had changed their friendship into something more as well as given them their first true sense of loss of a friend.
"I know, but that will be us next year," she said with a light sigh. "I'm seriously wondering if we can balance it all, but I have a feeling we will manage."
"Of course we will, because I know you will still intend on being seeker of the house team next year, or if we are lucky, there will be a chance to go to other places next year and we can do that as well," Blake said.
"As if you don't want to continue being a beater for the house team. You love it, despite the amount of bruises you take from the bludgers."
"I know, and I'm not denying it," he said with a chuckle dropping a kiss on the top of her head.
She cuddled into him, eyes sliding closed as she contemplated a nap all cuddled into the warm embrace of her boyfriend. She flicked her wand briefly, "Accio knitted-afghan."
The afghan came down the stairs quickly and she soon enough was snuggled beneath it against Blake and they talked a bit more, before she would nod off a bit, glad for the nap.
The Three Ds: Desdemona Dominique Diamond
Author: Bronwyn Dewhurst
Date: 06-19-12 17:42
The mound in the bed did not react to the whoosh of flames in the fireplace in the neighboring room, nor to the sound of a person tumbling onto the hardwood floor. The muttered complaints and the rather noisy effort to remove soot from the rug also went unheard.
"You sleep like the dead," said Bronwyn, after entering Desi's bedroom and finding her friend still asleep, despite the fact that it was late in the afternoon.
She started to sit on the edge of Desi's bed but then noticed her appearance in the mirror that hung over the dresser. A black mark marred her otherwise flawless cheek.
"Darn soot!" Bronwyn complained, rubbing vigorously at her cheek. Then she noticed the makeup products on the dresser. Gone were the dark lipsticks and eyeshadows Desi had worn for as long as Bron had known her. Now the shades were more subdued.
Bronwyn opened a compact and used the puff to dab the smudge on her face. Desi's old foundation was much paler than what Bronwyn normally wore, but the new shade was just right.
Bronwyn began to grow excited. She and Desi had never been able to share makeup before, and now it appeared that they could.
But why? Bronwyn tore her gaze away from the products on the dresser and frowned at the lump in the bed. That was what Bronwyn came over to find out.
She went over to the bedside but became sidetracked by the closet, very well aware that not only could she and Desi share makeup now, but they could share clothing too. And while Bronwyn did peruse Desi's new wardrobe, she also looked for her combat boots, not believing that Desi could ever truly get rid of them. To her surprise, they were nowhere to be found.
At last Desi emerged from her comforter. Her hair, lacking all color but the natural one, looked disheveled but very healthy. She eyed Bronwyn warily.
"What do you want?"
Bronwyn held up a skirt. "This, for starters."
Desi waved her hand and sank back against her pillows. "Take it."
"Really? Thanks!" Bronwyn carried the skirt to the bed and sat down. "So, we need to talk."
"Now? Don't you have somewhere to be?"
"Not until brunch tomorrow," Bronwyn said. "Remember Karma? She came to my birthday party last year? We're going to catch up on gossip. It's been a while since we've done that."
"Why wait till tomorrow?" Desi asked, staring up at the ceiling. "Never put off until tomorrow what you can do today."
Bronwyn folded her arms over her chest. "I get the distinct feeling you're trying to get rid of me, and I absolutely know why that is. The problem is that while I know why you're avoiding having this conversation, I don't actually know why."
"Are you deliberately confusing me?"
"You know exactly what I'm getting at Desdemona Dominique Diamond."
"Oh, my full name. I must really be in trouble."
Bronwyn sighed. "Well, are you? Troubled, I mean. I'm worried about you, Desi. What's going on in that head of yours? Why have you decided to give up your individuality and now look like your own worst enemy?"