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Letter
Author: Lysander Stratford
Date: 05-11-08 13:50
Despite it being late morning and well after opening, not a single customer perused the bookshelves at Twice Told Tales. Lysander, somewhat bored by not having anyone to attend to, busied himself by straightening every book on the shelf by hand. Dexter occasionally wove between his feet, chasing after the particles of dust that sometimes drifted to the floor when Lysander touched a book that had sat on the shelf for quite a while.
A creak and a clatter at the front door drew the attention of both wizard and cat. The owl post had arrived through the mail slot on the front door. Dexter trotted over to the small pile of envelopes and advertisements, eager to punch holes into the parchment with his teeth. Before he could get to the stack, Lysander summoned it to him. Dexter, eyes darting, started for the flyaway pile and then meowed sorrowfully when he realized his new toys had just been taken away from him.
Lysander carried the stack to the counter and sifted through them, making several smaller stacks in the process. Among the letters were some for book orders, a notice for a long overdue meeting of the Hogsmeade Merchants Association, and an envelope bearing Lysander's own name, written in a familiar hand. He tensed immediately and dropped the letter as if it were hot coals.
Dexter jumped onto the counter to get another chance at the mail. Lysander, gently batting the cat away while never letting his eyes leave the envelope, finally decided to flip it over and verify that it came from the very person he hoped never to hear from again. And there it was, her name and address, written in neat, feminine script across the top of the back of the envelope.
Lysander gently pushed the determined Dexter away from the envelopes again and at the same time noticed something peculiar. Instead of the expected Fox family seal, the red wax circle on the envelope contained the image of a wolf with the word Wolf scripted just beneath it. Perhaps she boarded with someone by the name of Wolf and used his or her seal to close the envelope.
Not that Lysander cared what she did. He didn't even want to read it. Pushing Dexter away and this time keeping one hand on the cat's chest, Lysander pointed his wand at the envelope and stated, "Incendio." The envelope caught fire and soon burned away to nothing. Lysander blew the ashy remains off the counter and then scooped up the other letters and ads to take them somewhere where Dexter couldn't reach them.
Visions Not Of Dancing Sugarplums
Author: Jet
Date: 05-11-08 18:01
Running a finger up and down the feather of his quill, Jet's eyes are on the hourglass. He's been done with writing the Transfiguration NEWT for some time now and as the time drags on, Jet finds it more difficult to keep certain thoughts at bay. The one going through his mind right now is one that involves Professor Helveticus Moon on the floor screaming in pain.
Jet blinks several times, cleaing the image from his head. For a split second it had seemed so very real, Jet fleetingly thought he'd given in to the voice at last. But no. Helveitcus Moon stands at the front, writing the time now left on the exam on the blackboard there.
Such images are happening with increasing frequency. Being at Hogwarts these days is difficult enough without having added stress such as preparing for the NEWTs. Having daydreams that are brutal and bloody, each involving the adults around here who back Snider and Minister Smythe-Jones adds to the distractions Jet does not need right now.
Although he's not admitted it to anyone so far, Jet now fully remembers everything before he vanished for those years. He doesn't understand why he's been able to fight the voice this time. As each day has passed, Jet does find it harder to ignore. He supposes that's why he's been having the ugly thoughts more often, why he hears the voice, sees in his mind the shadow image with greater frequency. Perhaps it's the oppressive atmosphere at Hogwarts and the pressure of preparing for the NEWTs that makes it harder for Jet to shut the voice out, to block the images when they come.
There's a snapping sound very close by. Jet tears his eyes from Professor Moon to glance around to see what it was since it sounded louder - and closer - than the tip of someone's quill breaking. Jet furrows his brow when he notices the quill in his own hand is broken cleanly in two. He doesn't remember gripping it much less so tightly that he broke it.
Despite having completed the exam, Jet raises his hand to indicate he needs another quill. Best to spend the remainder of the time going over his answers than it is to sit and let vicious visions of harming the "new" staff at the urging of the voice. Thank Merlin his time at Hogwarts is nearly done!
An Empty Flat and Dinner for One
Author: Lawrence Masterson
Date: 05-13-08 18:09
Lawrence slid into the overstuffed chair, after Eloise grabbed the grocery bags from his hands. "Master rest. Eloise put groceries away and start dinner." The house elf moved into the kitchen fretting and tutting beneath her breath.
He had been trudging around for weeks. He'd seen Ariella a few times since they'd both been asked to "leave" the grounds of Hogwarts. He'd spent most of his time figuring things out for himself. He didn't have to work, but maybe he could find another teaching job? But, he was a pure, and teaching at a muggle high school or something would probably mark him a blood traitor and get him a visit from the "Snatchers," and that was something he didn't want to have happen.
He had no desire to be marked a blood traitor, as it was, according to what Snider had said, Ariella was already being "watched" because of the actions of her brother and half-sister. He closed his eyes, and sliding a hand through his hair. He would be getting ready to give his first through fourth and sixth years their finals in a couple of weeks. His fifth and seventh years would be taking their Herbology O.W.Ls and N.E.W.Ts today. More importantly Ariella would be taking her Herbology N.E.W.Ts, if they hadn't been careless, hadn't gotten caught. They were so close to the end of the term, so very close and now...
He pushed himself up and moved away from the chair, fingertips working the buttons of his shirt. A hot shower would hopefully do him good, and break some of the funk he'd found himself in since he'd been sacked and essentially brought Ariella's final few months of school to an end.
He stood under the heated water, letting it wash down his form. He normally never hated the sounds of the empty flat, but now each moment that dragged on in silence was maddening to him. He wanted to be with Ariella, he wanted to be back at Hogwarts. He couldn't have the second, and he wasn't sure what was going to happen with the first right now.
By the time he'd gotten out of the shower and pulled on a pair of jeans and a button down that he left open Eloise had a simple meal set for him. "Master hungry?" He nodded and settled at the table and let out a sigh. The house elf moved along through the house and tidied things up, leaving Lawrence to eat his dinner in peace. After that he didn't know where the house elf had gone, and he didn't care. Eloise could always take care of herself, as he could.
Stress
Author: Ronan Eastwick
Date: 05-14-08 17:17
After Ancient Runes, Ronan returned to the Gryffindor common room. He dumped his books on a side table and slumped down into the accompanying chair, stretching out his legs before him. Although his day hadn't been too busy, having had only Herbology, History of Magic, and Ancient Runes, Ronan felt distressful. Perhaps the tension the OWL and NEWT candidates exuded carried over to those not taking the exams, though the real reason for Ronan's strain was the mere fact that he and the other nons didn't feel welcome or wanted at Hogwarts anymore and hadn't for a very long time.
He couldn't help but feel slightly lucky, however, that he was only a sixth year this year and hadn't been among those nons expecting to take the OWLs and NEWTs only to find out last minute that they were no longer eligible. Ronan had worked hard all year long but had expected to have another full year of studying before taking his NEWTs. He wondered if he should even bother with his studies anymore, since it didn't seem like he'd be taking the NEWTs next year either.
His thoughts traveled to summer. Although he was a legal adult now and didn't need to follow his mother's orders anymore, Ronan knew very well that as a legal adult who was also a non, he was at great risk of getting snatched, even if he had another year left at Hogwarts. Ronan well-imagined himself stepping off the Hogwarts Express at King's Cross Station, right into the clutches of the Ministry of Magic's Relocation Assistance Committee. Would even his mother, pureblood and positively evil through and through, be able to protect him?
Did he even want to be protected by Enid Eastwick? Ronan couldn't figure out what was the worse punishment, to live under the same roof as a murderer or get relocated to some heretofore unknown place. Perhaps he worried for nothing, though. Fear and doubt often left him imagining things that were bigger and much worse than what would really come to pass. Perhaps he would return to Hogwarts for his seventh year, and everything would be normal again or just as it was this past school year. He didn't want to experience another year like the current one, but certainly preferred it to his other options.
After resting for a while and sifting through the thoughts mulling through his head, Ronan collected his things and went to his dorm room, where he relaxed and thought some more before it was time to go to the Great Hall for supper.
The Headmistress' Office
Author: Alanna Beck
Date: 05-15-08 17:50
Alanna looked up when a house elf entered the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom and spoke in low tones to Professor Yaxley. The Deputy-Headmaster looked from the house elf to Alanna and stated, "Miss Beck. The Headmistress wishes to speak with you."
Alanna felt all eyes turn to her. She nodded and stuffed the notes she'd been taking into her textbook before scooping up her things and slipping out of the classroom behind the messenger house elf. She didn't expect to return, as it was nearly the end of the class period anyway. Also, a part of her wondered if Professor Snider intended on throwing her out, just as she had Ariella a couple of weeks ago.
Her feet echoed in otherwise silent hallway. Alanna felt them grow heavier and heavier as dread washed over her. Even though she wanted to stand up for her family, Ariella had insisted that she do all she could to stay at Hogwarts. Although Alanna didn't really have any respect for Professor Snider, she didn't want to lie about her beliefs. Still, Ariella wouldn't want Alanna doing or saying something that would give Snider cause to throw her out too.
The house elf stopped before the gargoyle that served as the gateway to Professor Snider's office and stated "Supremacy" in a squeaky, somewhat annoying voice.
The gargoyle turned, revealing a revolving staircase that took the elf and Alanna all the way to Snider's office door. The house elf stood out of the way, making it clear that Alanna was to enter the office alone.
Alanna knocked, despite being expected, and entered on Snider's command. She walked to the witch's desk, well-aware that Snider was appraising Alanna's every move. She hoped she didn't appear nervous or angry or any other emotion that might show weakness or insubordination in Snider's eyes.
Alanna stopped and said clearly, "You wanted to see me, Professor?"
"I did," Snider replied curtly, scrutinizing Alanna under her stern gaze. "Do you know why?"
Alanna had a hunch but thought it better to say nothing. "No ma'am."
"I see," Snider answered, leaning back in her throne-like chair. "Allow me to clarify for you, then." She pressed a pudgy finger to a file folder on her desk which, Alanna then noticed, bore her own name on the tab. The file wasn't terribly thick, but she could see the edges of a few parchment sheafs resting inside of it.
"It is my grave understanding that you have blood traitors in your family, a brother, sister, and half-sister among them."
When Alanna said nothing and remained expressionless, Snider went on, "Being a blood traitor is almost worse than being of an impure bloodline. Turning one's back on one's heritage is..." she paused, thinking of the right word, "...despicable."
Almost certain Snider would reprimand her for interrupting, Alanna nevertheless opened her mouth and said, "Professor, I would never turn my back on my heritage."
Not a lie, she thought to herself. Alanna hoped Snider would think she meant the pureblood way of life and not Alanna's own family.
"This environment is really quite important to me," Alanna went on quickly, not giving Snider a moment to mull over what she'd just said. "Some of my new professors this year have certainly opened my eyes to concepts I might not have considered when Professor Dumbledore was still Headmaster."
Snider's eyes clouded over at the mention of Dumbledore's name, but she otherwise seemed to take to Alanna's words, which, Alanna thought to herself, were also not lies, though they weren't whole truths either.
Snider tapped her pudgy finger on Alanna's file a few times and then completely removed her hand from the folder. She folded both hands together in her lap and nodded.
"You may go, Miss Beck."
Alanna didn't need to be told twice. She said "Thank you, Professor," and turned on her heel, walking, though not too quickly, to the door and slipping onto its other side. She got down the stairs and around the corner of the corridor before she broke out into a run.
Three Months
Author: Severus Snape
Date: 05-16-08 11:11
"What day is it?"
Severus rolled over in his cot and attempted to pull the threadbare blanket over his shoulders, not at all aware that he'd spoken out in his sleep. In his unconscious mind, it felt as if he'd been at Azkaban for three years instead of the mere three months it had actually been. Although daily life in prison had always progressed slowly, the presence of the dementors filled the inmates' days with dread and caused each and every minute to drag all the more.
"I might be mistaken, but I think we're in the middle of June," came a voice from nearby.
Severus stirred on his cot, caught somewhere between sleep and reality.
"It's midday or after," the voice continued, "and midweek, I think, though I can't be certain. Being locked in here without natural light makes it difficult to keep track of when it's day and when it's night."
Severus cracked open first one eye and then the next, finding himself face to face with the cold, stone wall that comprised of the very back of his cell. He turned onto his back, roving his gaze to the equally dull ceiling and gave up on trying to warm himself with the blanket. Out of the corner of his eye he could see tendrils of fog seep through the bars of his cell.
All voices in the cell block quieted. The door to the cell block opened. Severus felt the chill that accompanied the dementor long before he saw the creature sweep past his cell. It glided down the hall and doublebacked before exiting through the same door through which it had entered.
It took a full minute before anyone spoke again.
"I want to sweat under the heat of a blistering sun," Snape's neighbor said, and now that Severus was fully awake, he recognized the voice as Ethan's. "I tire of the cold."
He swung his legs over the side of the cot and sat up, pushing the threadbare blanket off his lap. "If things remain as they are, I suspect neither one of us will ever see the sun again."
He got up and walked to the bars of his cell in an effort to stretch his legs. He leaned his forearms on the crossbars and looked towards the door of the cell block, wishing he could walk through it and never return.
Tuesday & Thursday Afternoons Suck
Author: Emerald Green
Date: 05-16-08 14:55
Tuesday and Thursday afternoons majorly bite. Back to back Carrows. Emerald leaves the Potions classroom rubbing her right arm. Amycus Carrow had been so disgusted with Katheryn Matisse's potion that he'd blasted her cauldron. The potion inside had splattered in a wide circle and chunks of cauldron had gone flying. One smacked into Emerald's arm and a lump has formed. She knows without having to look that the bruise already looks spectacular and is sure it will be worse by tomorrow.
Reaching the stairs to exit the dungeons, Emerald counts herself among the lucky. She's just got a lumpy bruise running from shoulder to elbow. Several of the sixth years are at this very moment headed for the hospital wing, including Katheryn Matisse. Professor Carrow hadn't allowed them to go immediately after his temper tantrum, instead making them wait the fifteen minutes until class's end. That particular decision is probably so that every one of them who has Transfiguration next will be either extremely tardy or miss the class altogether, ensuring that they are the subjects of Alecto Carrow's ire. It won't matter to that devil of a woman that they were in the hospital wing. All that will matter to her is that they were late or missed and didn't get their homework turned in on time.
Not that homework truly matters anymore. Finals aren't going to matter either in the grand scheme, at least not as far as Emerald can see. Fifth and seventh years Nons have been denied taking the O.W.L.s and the N.E.W.T.s. Children who are Nons - including the youngest of the Green children, Jade and Hunter - and not old enough for Hogwarts have been yanked from their homes. Jewel Reily was arrested simply for attempting to go to another country to join her family. Many students who are Nons have one or both parents missing and if under school age children aren't being allowed to stay with Pure guardians then Emerald can't see the school age ones being allowed to either. Emerald figures the Nons will be made to stay at Hogwarts, forced to endure the Carrows, Yaxley, Snider, and others like them. That's a torture about as bad as being crucioed.
Reaching the Transfiguration classroom Emerald goes straight to her seat, pulling out her Transfiguration assignment as she sits. When Alecto Carrow doesn't immediately show up, Emerald pulls out another assignment, one that's due tomorrow. The homework is for Muggle Studies. Professor Parkinson wants no less than fifty ways in which Muggles are inferior to Witches and Wizards and she stressed that the Muggle Studies students are not to use any of the examples she gave.
Tapping her quill against her lips, Emerald tries to think up ways that Muggles are inferior to those with magic, while why Professor Carrow is so late for class.
Grounded
Author: Saffron
Date: 05-16-08 18:00
As she's done on a regular basis in the weeks since Aaron disappeared, Saffron pays a visit to the Department of Half-blood, Muggleborn, and Half-breed Registration and Regulation. Saffron has been seen by enough pudgy people that she'd begun to wonder if being anywhere from a little overweight to obese was required for the job. She's forced to change her theory when the man who calls her name this time is so thin, so gaunt as to be caderverous.
He glances at the request form she's filled out every single time she's visited the Ministry on Aaron's behalf. He sighs deeply then flatly intones, "The Ministry has no record of arrest for Aaron Miller."
"You and I both know he was arrested and is being held in Azkaban."
"What we both know and what is a matter of record aren't necessarily the same thing."
"So you acknowledge that Aaron is in Azkaban."
"No, Ms. Sacheverelle, the Ministry acknowledges no such thing."
"But you just said,"
"That the Ministry does not have any record of arrest for Aaron Miller," he cuts her off. Clearing his throat he continues, "You are already listed as a person of interest with the Ministry, thanks to your persistent line of inquiry about the half-blood Aaron Miller. If you continue, in a very short time you will be officially deemed a blood traitor. Do you know what the Ministry does to blood traitors, Ms. Sacheverelle?"
His flat intonation changes ever so slightly when he delivers that last part. Saffron presumes it's skeleton man's attempt at delivering a threat with an ominous undertone. She says nothing to let him know it's anything but. She does, however, take the threat seriously since it comes from the Ministry itself and not just from this man who seems to be barely among the living in looks and voice.
What he says next takes Saffron by surprise. "It's only because of the close friendship of Lohengrin Porter with both Dolores Umbridge and Minister Smythe-Jones that has kept the blood traitor label from you so far. There is an limit though to what a friendship can keep at bay."
As surprised as Saffron is to learn this, she keeps it from her face. She says with forced politeness, "Thank you for that tidbit of information and thank you for seeing me."
Rising, Saffron starts to walk from the cubicle when he speaks once more. "One last thing."
Turning, Saffron asks, "Yes?"
"Your wand."
"My wand?"
One bony hand is outstretched. The fingers curl in a come on gesture. "Your wand."
Saffron hands her wand to him as he informs her in a flat voice, "You are not to buy a new one. After you return to Hogwarts by Floo you will only Floo with express permission from Harriet Snider or from the Ministry. The same goes for the Knight Bus."
"You're joking?"
This earns the rhetorical response of, "Do I seem the type to say things in jest?"
Spinning back around, Saffron leaves the cubicle and wends her way through the maze that is the Department of Half-blood, Muggleborn, and Half-breed Registration and Regulation, all too aware that he's following her to the Floo to ensure she returns to Hogwarts.