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Breakfast
Author: Phyllida
Date: 01-24-13 03:21
Phyllida was waiting for Tiberius in the kitchen, sitting at the small, rickety table in the centre of the room. Her elbows leaned on the paisley tablecloth.
His night had been filled with nightmares about the warlock and his hairy heart, mixed with images of Phyllida's lifeless, heartless body draped across the couch in his living room. He decided to leave his bed, glad for the pale sunlight filtering through the grimy window. He dressed himself in a set of simple, dark robes and went downstairs in silence, hoping that his steps wouldn't rouse his guests. His mind craved a morning drink. Even if not proper, he felt that the firewhiskey would fortify him a little after last night's trials.
She smiled at him. "How did you sleep?"
Tiberius' eyes opened in surprise to see her already up. Now, there would be no drink for him. However, seeing her smile brought back a little of his good disposition.
"Terribly. But it's not a novelty. How about you?"
"Fine," she replied. "Why didn't you sleep well?"
"Nightmares," Tiberius replied, shrugging his shoulders, trying not to give much importance to it.
Suddenly he realized there was something different in the kitchen. Did Osky return from the dead and start to cook again? That couldn't be it, of course. He noticed an apron, the one his mother used sometimes, on the edge of the table.
"Have you been cooking? It smells good..."
She stood up, smiling impishly. It reminded him of the way she would behave when she was younger, and had cooked up a new game. "You know very well that I can't cook, Tiberius."
"Then where does the food came from?" he asked, looking at the pots on the stove, trying to guess what was hidden there.
She grinned and walked over to the oven, removing a tray bearing two tarnished silver cloches. "Sit down, please," she instructed imperiously.
He did so, without protesting. His eyes studied her, carefully, absorbing each detail of this scene. Phyllida had become image of a perfect house-wife. It was as if a curtain had been raised, revealing to Tiberius how things could have been between them if some events from the past had been prevented. He wondered if he was still in his large bed, dreaming. How many times had he pictured this exact scene in the past years?
She set his plate in front of him, removing the cloche. She made a comical, sweeping bow. "Full breakfast: bacon, toast, eggs, baked beans, sausage and black pudding. Procured from an unknown source by yours truly." She smacked a copy of the Daily Prophet on the table. "And I brought you the news, too. Coffee, or tea? What a question! It's tea, of course."
"It's coffee, actually," he replied, looking with surprise at the large pile of food in front of him. Such a portion would be enough to keep him for days, if not a week. But it was clear she had made an effort with all this, and, to please her, he took a careful bite of his toast, while his eyes started to scan the Daily Prophet.
She placed a cup of tea in front of him, balanced on a pair of delicate saucers. "Oh, no, it's tea. You do remember our tea parties, don't you?" She grinned mischievously. "Tea is better for you, anyway."
He did remember those, and that was the exact reason he preferred coffee over tea. He took the cup to his lips, pretending to take a large sip. Phyllida was looking at the window, to the shadow of his Rolls-Royce, parked some yards away.
"Could you drive that thing to Hogwarts?" she asked abruptly.
"Yes, of course. Why? Don't tell me you miss school..."
She sat down, pouring tea into her own cup. "Turn to page four," she said, calmly. She rolled her eyes as he scanned through advertisements for The Well-Heeled Wizard: Quality Magical Footwear. "No, below that. Today is the Fall Fair. Don't you want to visit Titus at school?"
Tiberius read the article about the Fall Fair at Hogwarts and its many attractions.
"Indeed. But I am not in the mood to attend this sort of circus. Not to mention these security measures they advertise."
He closed the newspaper and put it aside, giving more emphasis to what he felt about this Fall Fair.
"But we have to go, to make sure Titus is alright. What if he takes up with the wrong crowd, or what if the other children are mean to him?"
"If they are mean to him then I trust he would be able to defend himself. I am not going to allow my brother to hide behind me. And as for friends...he mentioned an Avery. That isn't bad at all."
She frowned. "Well, you're his guardian, you know best."
"I don't understand this sudden interested in Hogwarts, love."
Momentarily, she hesitated, her gaze focused on the baked beans on her plate. "The day we met at the Hog's Head, I saw a strange mark on the bar. Aberforth Dumbledore was unhappy when I noticed it, and tried to hide it."
"A mark? What mark?"
Although he had never studied anything else outside Hogwarts, Tiberius knew the importance of marks and symbols in the Magical word. If old Aberforth was unhappy by Phyllida's discovery, then it probably meant something.
She took a small piece of paper from her pocket, pushing it across the table to him. "I drew it down, so I would remember it," she said. "It seemed...familiar, somehow."
He studied it for a moment, his finger touching the lines she had drawn. He then left the kitchen table, the breakfast already forgotten, abandoned at the edge of the table, almost untouched. He returned moments later with an old book.
"It's a book of restorative magic. The best one I found so far," he opened it where the title was printed. The author, a healer named Gilbert Snowbell, was introduced as being one of the most illustrious members of the Trismegistus Society. The same symbol Phyllida had drawn rested on the same page, perfectly printed.
"The Trismegistus Society?" She read the page. "How come we've never heard of this before?"
"I found this book at my parents' vault at Gringotts. It's a limited edition, only a single manuscript was written. I guess they like to remain unknown."
"I wonder if we can find out more from Aberforth," she mused. "Or...perhaps there is something in the Library."
"And we can only do it today, while the school is opened to the public..." he looked at her. "And here I was thinking you were the type of witch who enjoyed carnival fairs," he laughed.
Of Weddings, Adoptions and Babies
Author: Karma Davyd
Date: 01-24-13 14:32
Piles of parchment scattered around the kitchen table were littered with plans for the Hindu wedding they would be having during the winter holidays, when we both had a break from classes at St. Emrys and when I wasn't teaching at Hogwarts.
"My mother better be pleased with the fact that I'm going through with this because the planning of it is driving me insane. Not to mention the fact that we have the trip to Mumbai in two weeks to meet with the girls and the head of the orphanage. I swear, if one more person tries to adopt them before our paperwork goes through in March of next year I'm going to scream."
I looked up at Dex, who had just walked back into the house from a run. He'd gone running while I worked on wedding planning. I also had invitations to send out for a wedding that was in less than eight weeks. Those would be going out in the post on Monday once I was done with classes at Hogwarts and could make it to the owl post in town, or I'd leave them for Dex to mail on his way to St. Emrys.
"Getting frustrated already love?" He asked, dropping down across from me and looking over the expanse of things on the table.
"You have no idea, and I had to make sure that our friends here do not necessarily have to bring money as a wedding gift when they come to the wedding. I mean, we are going to get plenty from my parents since it is the traditional gift for a Hindu wedding."
He shook his head. "Don't worry about it babe. Everything will work out."
I sighed and pushed up from the table, moving to settle in his lap despite the fact that he was stinky and sweaty from his run. "I know it will, but it is still so frustrating and at least I'm no longer getting ill. Which is a blessing in and of itself."
His hands smoothed over her still somewhat flat belly and smiled. "I still can't believe we are going to have a baby, and be adopting two girls within our first year of marriage." Awe still dancing through his words.
"I still can't believe you fainted when you found out babe, but yeah I know it's a bit overwhelming. I know I can technically take a year off, but I don't think I will. It also helps that this is my last term at St. Emrys to be finished with my advanced degree."
He nodded. "I know for a fact that my parents will help babysit as often as they can. Between us and Ember, they will have two new infant grandbabies and the girls to dote over and spoil. Hopefully, the children will soften your mother's attitude toward me and she'll be willing to help with the kids as needed."
"I think it will. She at least sounded positive in the letter I got from her the other day. She at least doesn't sound like she hates you any more, but then again it is hard to tell just how much anger is in her written words." I said, leaning into him and sighing.
He nodded and kept me in his lap for a few minutes longer before planting a kiss on my neck.
"Up you get, I need to shower and change and then we need to head up to the fall fair. It will be fun."
I slipped from his lap and smiled. "Go get unstinky and I'm going to change into something a bit warmer and then we can go. I'm looking forward to some of the games and meeting more of my student's family and friends."
Twenty minutes later Dex and I were heading to the castle for the Fall Fair.
(Serano Estate, Painting in the Attic) Biding Time
Author: Xiomara Sofia Serano
Date: 01-24-13 15:28
A cruel smirk danced upon his lips as he remained dutifully optimistic that the young child would be able to find the book he wanted her to get. Who would suspect a nine year old girl capable of performing a spell that would release him from the curse of this painting? Certainly none of the fools in the ministry, and that made it all the sweeter.
He toyed with the items in the painting, stack of books upon the desk, quill and parchment, and his own personal talisman that was barely visible beneath the curled end of parchment.
"Soon enough, I will be able to bask in the sunlight, and no longer be hidden within the dark crevices of that bitch's attic."
His words barely left the small space he shared with the young girl when she came to play, thinking him a friend, and not realizing who he was, what he'd done in the past to gain him the 'pleasure' of being cursed to the painting for an unknown amount of time.
She'd been starved for companionship and he'd easily supplied it and ultimately after several months began hinting at the fact that he could join her for real for one of their tea parties if she could find out how to get him out of the painting he'd been so wrongfully locked in.
Wrongfully? What a crock of dragon dung. He'd done enough damage to others, torn families apart and had been rightfully cursed into the painting to live out his days eternally at the age of twenty-seven. Though, rightfully he should be nearing forty after having been in the painting for nearly a decade.
He fingered the pendant tucked beneath his shirt, he'd stolen it from the Serano bitch before she'd imprisoned him within the painting and knew that dealing with her would be difficult, but ultimately he would have his revenge - and making her offspring suffer the punishment of casting potent, dangerous magic underage would only be the tip of the iceberg.
Family
Author: Jolyon
Date: 01-25-13 17:22
Because the ponies had been such a success at last year's Spring Social, Jolyon had once again arranged for some to appear at today's Fall Fair. The difference this year was that there were only two as opposed to four, and they were in the cozy barn instead of out in the open.
Jolyon stroked the muzzle of the dark bay Exmoor pony and encouraged the younger sibling of one of his students to take the brush he held in his other hand. The Exmoor, also known as Celtic pony, was incredibly fuzzy. Although very interested, the young girl, who was dressed in thick tights, a corduroy skirt, and brightly colored jumper, was hesitant to accept the brush.
"He won't bite," Jolyon gently said. "Besides, I've got his head. Just brush his side. I promise you, he won't mind. In fact, I think he'll like it."
Deciding to trust Jolyon, the girl eventually took the brush from his hand and slowly ran it down the pony's fuzzy flank. She turned her head to smile at her family.
At that moment, the doors to the barn opened and Jolyon's mother and boyfriend walked in. Jolyon felt his own smile slip from his face, but he forced himself to keep it on for the sake of his other guests.
Bridget waved at him and then went over to the other pony, a Kerry Bog from Ireland. Kerry Bogs were very rare. This one was a palomino.
"Look, isn't he a sweetheart?" she said to Gaius.
Gaius ruffled the palomino's mane. "Are you sure it's a he, love?"
"I think so," she said, looking under the animal to check. "Jolyon, darling, is this pony a boy or a girl?"
"They're both boys, Mum," Jolyon answered, moving towards them after the little girl left with her family. "What are you both doing here?"
"It's Fall Fair," Bridget replied, as if the answer were obvious. "I read in the newspaper that family and friends are invited to visit Hogwarts today and wondered why you didn't tell me to come and see you."
"Because this is technically an event for students and their families and friends," Jolyon replied. "Besides, you visit me whenever it suits you, whether there's something going on or not."
"You sound like you don't want your mother visiting you at all," Gaius stated.
Jolyon narrowed his eyes at him. "I didn't ask your opinion."
"Boys, please stop." She put a hand on Gaius's chest and said, "You're wrong about Jolyon. He doesn't mind my visits. He's just not too keen on me visiting with you," she went on, turning to her son. "You are going to have to accept that I've moved on and that I'm very happy with Gaius. I wish you two could get along."
Jolyon didn't say anything. Then the door to the barn opened again and Asher and Arielle stepped through, followed by their mother.
For a moment, time stood absolutely still. Merrie met Jolyon's gaze first and then noticed Bridget standing beside him. Bridget's eyes went round and her mouth fell open, making a small O. When she sufficiently recovered herself, she looked up at her son, who shook his head so slightly that it went unnoticed by Gaius and the children.
"Hello, Jolyon," Merrie said, breaking the silence first.
"Hello, Merrie."
"Hello, Bridget."
"Hello, Merrie."
The Kent twins observed the greetings curiously, but ultimately decided that what they'd witnessed was yet more proof that adults were strange and incomprehensible at times. Arielle went to the Exmoor pony and started talking sweetly to it, while Asher poked around the stalls.
"It's been many years," Bridget said to Merrie.
"Yes, it has."
"Are those your children?" Bridget asked, almost breathlessly.
"Yes, Asher and Arielle."
"How very nice," Bridget murmured.
Gaius had no idea who Merrie or the children were and wasn't sure why everybody else seemed to know each other. He held out his hand. "I'm Gaius Lorey. How exactly do you know my Bridget?"
Jolyon flinched at the phrase "my Bridget", but spoke up before Merrie or his mother could reply. "Merrie and I knew each other long ago. A very long time ago," he answered.
"That's right," Merrie said. "I know your Bridget through Jolyon."
"I see," Gaius said, no less confused than before.
Bridget took him by the hand. "I think we ought to see what else there is to see, and perhaps we can talk to Jolyon more later." She stared at Jolyon pointedly.
Jolyon understood clearly what she wanted to talk about. "Yes, fine."
Gaius shrugged. "All right. You lead the way, my lady!"
Bridget giggled but shot another lasting look at her son before departing from the barn.
Merrie moved to the other side of the Kerry Bog and said, "Your mother has changed."
"Yes, she has."
He looked over at Asher, who was peering over the door of one of the stalls. Arielle was still cooing at the other pony.
"Not yet," Merrie said, answering the unasked question.
Jolyon looked at her for a long moment and said nothing. At last he sighed and said, "All right."
He could accept that telling Asher and Arielle the truth about him would be entirely on Merrie's terms, but the waiting grew more and more difficult with each passing day.
Minutes Before The Ceremony
Author: Griffin Price
Date: 01-25-13 18:12
Kneeling in front of his son Griff adjusts Tristan's tie and asks, "Do you need me to go through it with you again?"
The six year old rolls his eyes and fidgets from the tie adjustment. "No, Dad. I remember."
Juliet Davis pulls open the flap of the tent being used as the men's dressing room. "Griffin? Carys is about ready."
That's the cue for the groomsmen, best man, and groom to take their positions and for Alun Hanham to take his place with Carys. Griff waits until they are standing along a runner laid to form a T with the center aisle runner to slip Cary's ring on his best man's thumb. Tristan tucks his thumb into his fist. "I won't lose it, Dad."
"You remember when you're supposed to hand it to the Minister?"
That eye roll again. Tristan's got that so down pat it's like he's already in practice for his teen years. "I know it, Dad. You remember your part?"
Griff grips Tristan's shoulder in a light squeeze. "I hope so but I'm a little nervous."
"I'll remind you if you forget."
"Thank you."
Next to Tristan in the line are the other two groomsman, rounding out three standing up with Griff to match the three bridesmaids Carys has. Griff had a tough time deciding who to ask. He's got a number of friends from work but none that would qualify as best mates. He's not had any real non-work related friends since moving to Great Britain. After great internal debate and some discussion with Carys he decided to ask two aurors he's often been paired with at work and gets on well with, Ron Weasley and Harry Potter. If one of them hadn't been able, he would have asked Anthony Beck or Geoffrey Blackwell.
Sitting where the groom's family would traditionally sit is the closest person Griff has to family, Ruth Gainsborough. The only actual family he knows of is his uncle, the uncle who is in Azkaban and who killed what other family Griff had.
Ruth offers Griff a smile and then looks to Tristan and gives a little wave just as the music the bridesmaids are walking down the aisle to begins playing. Griff shifts his gaze to the end of the aisle where Carys will soon appear with Alun.
(McCray Manor) Less Than Pleasant Reunion
Author: Andreva
Date: 01-25-13 18:26
Andreva held in her breath as she walked up to the front door. How long had it been? At least six months, and only then she had returned because of what She did. She hadn't even communicated with her parents, that is, aside from brief holiday wishes. Certainly her father would disapprove that she suddenly appeared at the Manor - he was one to prefer a notice before an appearance. But even more so where it concerned his only child. She didn't wish to fight this time but her father could certainly turn it into one. What if he had learned of her meetings with Adrian and had waited to confront her in person?
She reached into her pocket and fumbled to take out the key. Only five keys to the Manor had been made upon its creation centuries ago - they were charmed, so as to avoid rust, and had an inscription written on the side.
Under the Highlands one will find the secrets of the line.
She had no idea what it meant, but that it wasn't the family's motto, and it wasn't like her father would tell her anyway. Every time she would bother to ask he would shrug and respond:
"In good time, deary. In good time."
The keys were made for McCray blood alone and she was a McCray so it only felt right that she should know at least this family secret. Aside from hers, everyone had them had one - Ailbe, Cleona, and now Roisin too. The fifth and final one was never spoken of, as though it was something worth dying for. She had assumed that it was her father who carried the spare but she never saw it, unlike his own key that he always carries in his pocket. He was always the one to encourage the family to always keep it on their person and never speak of it, so that no one would get curious and take it from them. This bothered her since it was just a simple key, a materialized item that had no bearing to their survival. And yet Ailbe McCray always spoke of these keys as though they were his children. He was a strange man, that was true, but where it concerned the keys he was one to always take great care.
She reluctantly pushed open the door and entered the Manor, taking a quick glance around. Her family's ancient home had never truly made her feel comfortable or safe. Rather, it gave her a chilling sense of foreboding. She could feel her heart pounding as her head and palms began to perspire as she turned in the direction of her father's study. He was a predictable man and spent most of his time in that godawful room - the room that gave her the greatest feeling of being uncomfortable. As expected he was in his chair, looking down at something in his hands. For a short moment she stood in silence, watching him intently. She was now taking in deep breaths as she began to feel miserable. Nonetheless, she took courage and spoke:
"Hello, father."
Ailbe McCray slightly jumped at her voice. He rushed to put his moment's infatuation into his pocket, as though he was a child playing with the most irregular item. A peculiar man he was but that was strange even for his standards.
"Ooh, Andreva!" He exclaimed, unable to hide the exasperation in his voice. "Come child. Come sit."
"No I can't." She replied, desperately trying to find an excuse. "I really must be going shortly."
"Oh what a shame. So, what do you want?"
Naturally he assumed that she wanted something of him, else she wouldn't have come to McCray Manor after six months of silence only to stay for a few moments. Nevertheless she felt a pang of sadness at his words. Whilst they did have their problems he was still her father and she his daughter. Quickly she thought up her next words:
"I was in the area and wished to stop by."
He nodded his head almost in disbelief. "How's your work at the Ministry?"
"Fine - I got another promotion."
"And you hadn't informed your mother and I on this? We could have celebrated..." His words trailed off as he leaned back in his seat. Suddenly a look passed over him, as though he had recalled the world's greatest secret. In that instant she knew that he knew. "So I hear that you have been speaking to a Snodgrass."
"Adrian, father. I am speaking to Adrian."
"It doesn't matter which one you've been speaking to. They are all Snodgrass and you know very well..."
Andreva cut him off.
"I know that the feud has been over centuries ago and it seems as though only you and Charles know what happened. Who I speak to doesn't matter - I choose my own friends."
Her words fell out between her lips quickly and by the time they were done, she regretted them. She had pricked her father's temper by confronting him on the family's rivalry. But it was worse than that; she knew that this would be the last conversation they would have. He jumped up out of his seat and pointed a finger at her, as though he prepared to scold a child.
"Oh, no, you are very wrong. What happened then is still happening and you can't just chose a Snodgrass as a friend. Much more is at play here than you think. For one, Charles has sent his house-elf to follow your mother and I. And secondly, Walter's his eldest son and has committed horrendous crimes. Now get out!"
She took off running, wishing to be far away from her father and his stupid Manor. When she stepped foot outside, she slowed to a walk and began to cry. And little did she know that upon her departure, Ailbe took out his pipe and muttered to himself:
"I should have known that it was inevitable that blood is thicker than the nurturing."
In Attendance
Author: Hermione Granger
Date: 01-26-13 08:23
The weather appeared to have cooperated for the outdoor wedding of Carys Hanham-Beauvais and Griffin Price. The only element with which to contend was the cold air, but heating charms and torches spaced throughout the area of the ceremony rectified the issue. Hermione, in attendance because Ron was a groomsman, sat in the audience and watched as the bride walked down the center aisle on the arm of her grandfather.
Hermione's time at Hogwarts had overlapped some with Carys', who had also been a member of Gryffindor House. However, they had not known each other well, since Hermione had been a fifth year student when Carys had entered Hogwarts as a first year. The most interaction they'd ever had had been in the roles of prefect and new student in need of guidance.
That had all been a very long time ago! Hermione marveled at how much everyone had changed; how grown up everyone had become.
This outing was her first since Rose's birth and their first lengthy separation. Hermione had reluctantly departed from the Burrow earlier in the morning to attend the wedding with Ron. She had spent every waking moment with Rose for the past month, and leaving her with Molly had felt almost like leaving behind a limb.
At the same time, Hermione appreciated the chance to dress up and attend an event that was certainly family friendly, though perhaps no place for a potentially fussy newborn. Still, she looked forward to her reunion with Rose.
The bride reached the groom. Her grandfather pushed up her veil and gave her a kiss on the cheek, before taking his seat in the front row. Carys and Griffin held hands and turned to the minister, who started his part of the ceremony.