|
|
No Smoke Without Fire (Ravenscrofte Rare and Antiquarian Books, Knockturn Alley)
Author: Cassandra Catesby
Date: 08-21-13 05:25
Green flames flared in the massive stone fireplace at Ravenscrofte Rare and Antiquarian Books an instant before a wizard stepped out, brushing specks of soot off his puce-coloured cloak. A short, stout man, he bore an unfortunate resemblance to a toad with his bulging eyes and lumpy features.
"Mr Netherby," Cassandra greeted him.
"Miss Catesby," he replied with a quick bob of his head. His voice even sounded toad-like, she thought; a distinct croak. He was, however, one of her better customers, his research into the magical properties of Asiatic reptiles and their use in potions one that brought him back again and again. "I received your owl," he said to her. "I understand the volume I requested is now in stock?"
"It is," she said, reaching below the counter.
Perfidius Netherby walked forward eagerly. Avarice gleamed in his protuberant eyes. "The complete works of Dzou Yen," he breathed, clapping his hands together. "The celebrated Chinese alchemist."
"In his own hand," Cassandra confirmed. "It has been dated to the fourth century BC."
"My dear Miss Catesby, you excel yourself," he said, more than willing to fish out a bag of galleons that chinked gently as they hit the counter.
"Thank you, Mr Netherby," she said. She discreetly made the money disappear below the counter.
"So glad that you're not letting this terrible business with your sister distract you," he said. "All those reports by Rita Skeeter in the Prophet. Terrible, terrible..." But as he mouthed the social platitudes, he could not hide his eagerness for the latest gossip. "To think she was in cahoots with Grimshaw-Spore, and he now in Azkaban..."
"Surely you're not believing anything Skeeter writes, Mr Netherby," Kirley drawled from the doorway. "After all, her habits of embellishing the truth are so well known."
Netherby jumped. "Oh! Oh! Mockridge, I didn't see you there," he said. He eyed Kirley in the manner of a mouse eyeing a cat.
"Well, everyone knows Rita Skeeter's vicious quill, of course..." He gave a hearty, distinctly fake laugh. "But, then there's no smoke without fire, eh!"
"Will this be all, Mr Netherby?" Cassandra cut in, her tone as sharp as any scalpel. She rested her hand briefly on the Chinese volume.
"Oh? Oh, yes. This time, Miss Catesby," Perfidius said jovially. "This time." He gathered up his purchase and, with one last wary look at Kirley, scurried over to the fireplace and vanished with a flash of green flames.
Cassandra scowled after him.
"Want me to send something coated in one of Nephele's nasty potions?" Kirley asked. "I'm already thinking about sending Skeeter something with that disappearing potion of Neph's, but I don't think she opens her own mail."
"I doubt it," Cass said. "People would be too tempted to send her a letter filled with undiluted bubotuber pus."
She sighed and looked back at Kirley. "As for Perfidius, he's a nosy, gossiping fool, but he's a nosy, gossiping fool who spends a lot of money on expensive, old books. My mercenary side says sending him a nasty potion is a bad idea. And he's only saying what others are thinking. I am getting sick of this though. There must be something we can do."
"Short of visibly being questioned and cleared by the aurors looking for your sister?" Kirley asked.
Cass grimaced. "Definitely a last resort," she said; she'd had had enough experience of rude aurors to last her a lifetime from when her sister had first vanished overseas. It had taken a lot of time to convince them that she had no idea where Callandra was - if she had completely managed to do so, that was. She had her doubts when it came to some of them, suspecting there was at least one or two who had given up more through lack of further evidence and leads than because they really thought she was innocent of any involvement in her sister's activities.
"I've been thinking about taking a look around the Castle," she continued. "Callie never got her own place; she was still living there most of the time. It's easy enough to commute when you can Apparate. If there were any papers or whatever about what she was doing on Grimsay, the most likely place for them to be - other than still on the island - is there. With the Castle being Unplottable, as well all the muggle-repelling charms and anti-Apparition spells on the place, it's about as secure as you're going to get."
"That makes sense," Kirley said. "Should we go check things out?" he asked. "And yes, I am coming with you. Otherwise, who will you have to abuse when things go awry?" he teased.
Cass smiled. "I hoped you would," she admitted.
A Sister's Secrets (Catesby Castle)
Author: Kirley Mockridge
Date: 08-21-13 10:37
Callandra's room, or rather small suite of rooms, was in the North Tower of Catesby Castle. A stone spiral staircase wound upwards. On each landing was a door into a room that was almost circular because of the shape of the tower: a sitting room, a study and, at the top of the tower with views over the surrounding countryside, the bedroom. It reminded Cassandra of Ravenclaw Tower at Hogwarts with its airy feel; it was very different to the Slytherin dungeons that Callie had inhabited whilst at the school.
Roses of a lush, deep red - so dark they were almost black- rambled up the outside of the tower. The blooms bobbed against the windows, their scent heavy and oddly mesmerising.
"You don't think your sister was tampering with that rose breed, do you?" Kirley asked. His nose wrinkled despite himself, it reminded him far too much of the heady type of perfumes his mother favored when she wished to make an impression.
"Herbology wasn't her favourite subject, but it's not outside the realms of possibility," Cass replied. She'd opened the window to change the air as the rooms hadn't been occupied since her sister's escape from the aurors sent to arrest her, but the heady perfume made her close it again cautiously.
Just in case.
"Callie was always keen to protect her secrets. There may be more than one kind of defence on any hidey-hole," she said.
"If she was on good terms with Mother, or with a Grimshaw-Spore, she may not have had to do it herself. Mother has a garden there at the Dower House with certain types of flowers that it reminds me of. She's been known to walk out there with people when she wants them to be open minded or agree to some things that they might be resistant to," Kirley said. "She could have gotten clippings from Mother, or elsewhere, and simply accelerated their growth."
She nodded and said, "That's true. We've already got plants here at the Castle that have been... tampered with, shall we say. Those roses near the entrance that went after Nephele's hair on our last visit. One of my ancestors was keen on experimental herbology. I doubt my parents would have thought anything of a rose with an unusual perfume."
Kirley nodded. "They may not have noticed at all, really," he said. "So what are we looking for?"
"I'm not entirely sure," she admitted. "Something that gives more information about what Callie was working on on Grimsay? Something that gives some clue as to where Rita Skeeter is getting her information from?"
She glanced across at him. "Your mother and Blaise have said enough to make me suspect that there's more than a kernel of truth in Skeeter's stories. She must be getting that information from somewhere, someone who knew about the project through some means or another. If we could cut off that source of information..."
"Then we can stop the stories on Callie and the attention being drawn to you. It may also give me insight into why she's doing what she's doing," Kirley agreed. "Mother's theories are logical, but at the same time, they are Mother's theories and I'd rather not have her be right."
Cass snorted. "You have Mother issues," she said dryly. "Personally, I find Cloris to be surprisingly acute." She walked across the room and began searching for information.
"I should be scared, you and Mother get on far too well," he said.
The small smile that curved her lips was distinctly unreassuring. "Why yes," she said. "Yes, you should." Midnight-blue eyes held a wicked gleam. "Just think what she and I could plot if we put our heads together."
Kirley laughed. "And then what would be destroyed when she starts pushing you to make an honest man of me so the line can continue," he teased. He wasn't in any hurry on that front, but his mother could be quite persistent. And he knew Cassandra's reasons for not wanting to have children and he understood, in an abstract sort of way.
His eyes were drawn to a slight imperfection in the wall. "Could this be something?" he asked.
Cass gave a small snort at his comment about continuing the line, but didn't say anything, instead coming over to examine the wall.
"It could be," she said. She ran her fingers gingerly over the imperfection. "It feels different to the rest of the wall."
He rested one hand on her hip. "Should we push it?" he asked with a boyish grin. "Just to see what happens?"
"Knowing Callie, it might go boom, but we can try," Cass said. She felt around for any likely bumps or indentations and pressed them. As her finger moved over a small imperfection in the wall there was a soft click and a section of the wall about two feet square swung aside to reveal a metal door.
"Hmm... not your standard safe," Cass murmured; there was no dial to turn to select numbers and open the lock. She drew her wand and pointed it towards the door.
"Alohomora," she said.
Nothing happened.
"I should have known it wouldn't be that easy," she observed.
Kirley studied the front of the safe. "I've heard of these," he said, kneeling down to examine it carefully.
She lowered her wand. "Did anything you heard give any clue as to how to get in?" she asked.
"It looks like a blood safe," Kirley said. "I'm not sure if it recognizes DNA or what, but it might work with you being identical twins," he said. His finger brushed an indentation.
Blood magic was Old magic, bordering on the Dark Arts; Cass wasn't entirely surprised to find her sister using it to defend her secrets. She nodded.
"Let's see," she said.
She reached out with her non-wand hand, pressing her index finger into the indentation. In the base was a thorn like that of a rose. Cass sucked in an involuntary breath as it pricked her. It stung, pain singing along the nerves in her hand. A droplet of blood welled up. It glowed like a tiny ruby for one second, then seemed to soak into the metal.
Kirley tugged her wounded finger up, kissing the small mark with a wink at her. The door to the safe unclicked and he looked up at her. It was her sister so she should be the one to open it. Carefully, she did so.
Inside were some parchments, a small volume bound in green leather, and a canvas pouch. Cass reached for the book.
"It seems to be some sort of journal," she said, flicking through the pages. As she did so, a loose sheet slipped out and drifted towards the floor.
Kirley picked it up. "Grimsay?" he said, reading it off the paper. "Cass, I'm really starting to think you won't find anything good in this journal." Concern filled his eyes, something he normally would have hidden.
She closed the volume with a snap. "I need to know," she said. Her eyes met his. "She's my sister, Kirley. My twin. There has been too many secrets, too much speculation. I need to know the truth."
"I can understand that," he said, getting to his feet and slipping an arm around her waist. "If it were Nephele, I'd need to know too. And I'm here, regardless of what we find," he promised.
She touched his cheek with her fingertips. "Thank you," she said softly. He bent his head and kissed her softly. It wasn't often that he let his guard down and showed what lay behind his charming, superficial mask, but Cass had a talent for drawing it out of him.
(Kate) Theory of Charms
Author: Bronwyn Dewhurst
Date: 08-21-13 17:50
The dreaded O.W.L. exams had finally arrived. Kate sat near the front of the Great Hall, head bent over her Theory of Charms exam booklet, and carefully read each question. She was nearly finished with the written test, but hoped to have enough time to review her answers before Professor Douglass asked the examinees to stop writing.
She had not gotten enough sleep last night, but not because she'd pulled an all-nighter or studied past her normal bedtime. Kate had made herself go to bed early with the thought of getting enough rest for the day ahead, but nerves had kept her tossing and turning for much of the night.
Kate had nevertheless managed to get up with her alarm and had kept alert through much of the morning, but her energy was rapidly fading. Other than exerting herself mentally and with her writing arm, Kate's mostly inert state made it very easy for her to get sleepy.
A yawn escaped her lips. She smothered it with her hand, squeezed her eyes shut for a moment, and then forced herself to concentrate on what remained of her exam. It turned into something of a struggle, however.
Around her, quills scribbled fast and furiously on parchment. Students sniffed, coughed or sneezed. Pages turned. While it was true that the noises had been there from the very beginning, Kate had only just started to notice them. She shut her eyes again, silently counted to ten, and then turned her focus to the exam once more.
Her second attempt at concentration went better. Before long, she was making headway through the rest of the written exam.
Poor Pomfrey
Author: Harry Potter
Date: 08-21-13 18:13
Bleary eyed Harry stumbles into the kitchen of the St. John's Wood manor, thinking yet again if he's going to be in seclusion he should ask after one of the Order's smaller locations or ask Kingsley what the Ministry might have that's not quite as spread out and spacious as this mansion. Often here alone, Harry finds it's just too large for his taste and feels extremely empty.
Ginny comes and brings Jamie but for appearances she also needs to be seen around their house at Grove's End. Some nights after she's made a show for anyone who might be watching the house of extinguishing lights, making it seem like she's going to bed, Jamie and she come here.
Harry's worked the past several nights though so no Ginny to snuggle against and no Ginny nudging him out of bed if Jamie wakes up in the night. The work has been for the case involving the sex slave ring a good number in the department are also working in some capacity. With Polyjuice, Harry becomes Bruno Bicklestaff, brothel bouncer for when patrons get unruly or can't pay. He thinks the name Bruno is a bit cliché for a bouncer but he didn't get to pick his undercover name or persona.
When not pulling shifts at Leather & Lace for the sex slave ring case, Harry does duty at St. Mungo's, posing at an employee as part of the on-going stakeout for the person behind the bomb. It's dragged out for so long he's certain the decision will be made to have Harry finally come out of his "coma" but every time he's asked Kingsley, who's personally been overseeing the case, he's told, "Later, Potter. We'll talk about that later."
Harry really hopes later comes soon. He's tired of the pretending and he knows it's not easy on Ginny, Ron, Hermione, or any of the rest of the family.
Harry has been standing staring at his food options. It's late enough in the morning he could bypass the usual breakfast choices and have something more lunch-like. Though, come to think of it, he's never understood why some foods are considered breakfast foods and if eaten at any other time than breakfast, they are still referred to as breakfast foods such as having breakfast for lunch. Why are other foods good for both lunch and supper and not deemed for one or the other?
With a shake of his head, Harry reaches for a loaf of bread, slicing off two pieces as evenly in size as he can. He sets a knife to cutting tomato slices while he slathers a horseradish sauce on the bread then layers thinly sliced roast beef on one side. Adding the tomato slices he debates pickles or not. Maybe on the side. There's some leftover rice casserole that he zaps a portion of with his wand to quickly heat it.
At the table, Harry reaches for the paper that had come this morning about the time he was getting in from Leather & Lace. He'd not even glanced at it then, so tired his eyes are practically closed when he'd tossed the Daily Prophet on the table to make his way to the nearest comfy couch, not wanting to expend the energy required to go all the way to the bedroom he's using.
On the front page is the latest Rita Skeeter article in her series on Hogwarts staff. The subject: Nurse Poppy Pomfrey.
Poppy Pomfrey has long served as nurse for the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizarding and the oversear of the school's hospital wing. Madam Pomfrey is well known for handling most medical crises that arise among the Hogwarts students and staff without the need of a healer. She is known to be competent and cool, caring yet stern.
There's another side of Poppy Pomfrey, a side few have any knowledge of. According to Angela Whitehorn, who worked with Pomfrey first as a nurse-in-training and then as bright-eyed, new, young nurses, Pomfrey could be a bit scatterbrained and often panicked, turning to others for information and help. Whitehorn relates that in their first six months on the job, more patients suffered serious setbacks or lost their lives entirely under Pomfrey's care.
The article goes on at length, ripping apart Poppy Pomfrey's life and career, ending with the question Is this the person you want providing healing care to your child?
Shoving the paper away, Harry wonders who's left for Skeeter to spear with her sharp quill. It can't be very many based on the number of articles he recalls reading.
After a few seconds he pulls the paper back to him, turning to the sporting news while he finishes his lunch. When done, he quickly cleans up the small mess he's made then debates sleeping more before having to report in at St. Mungo's to spend four hours watching for anyone suspicious nosing around his hospital room or going through Geheimzinnige Zilver again or one of the other Geheimzinnige volumes in the series he has copies of.
Nap or headache inducing dark arts related material.
A few minutes later Harry is lightly snoring on the same couch he'd slept on earlier.
(Titus) Talent & Stupidity
Author: Tiberius Nott
Date: 08-22-13 05:03
The start of the OWLs served as a reminder to Titus that his own exams would take place in two weeks. Most of his colleagues were not worried yet, but he was. Not because he wanted to have good grades that would distinguish him from everyone else. Oh no. What Titus really wanted was not to fail.
He was not a bright student and it took him the double of his classmates' time to dominate a spell or charm. At History of Magic he kept swapping names and dates, while at Potions he frequently forgotten the order the ingredients should be put into the cauldron or he would get the dosage wrong. He still had a hard time in Astronomy, trying to identify the right stars and planets on the telescope. The only subject he felt comfortable with was Herbology, although sometimes Titus tried to hide his talent and enthusiasm around the subject, not wanting Anton to mock him. Herbology was not really the coolest subject to be good at.
Titus knew he could be better if he applied himself. If he paid more attention to the classes, didn't copy his homework from Valeria and Petula and practice his spells he was sure he would improve. But Titus was a bit lazy. Maybe because his parents weren't around and they wouldn't lecture him once they learned about his grades. It's not that they could ground them since they were at Azkaban. Titus was also sure Tiberius would not really care about his grades as long as he made it to the second year.
He was also aware of another flaw he had: at the first difficulty he would give up. If he couldn't turn a match into a needle at his first attempt, then he would put his wand down declaring he was not good at Transfiguration. It was a silly excuse, and he knew it, but he just felt so affected by his failures that he did not want to try again, only to not accomplish it again.
He had come to Hogwarts thinking that due to his family name, he would be a great wizard and distinguish himself from his classmates. Titus had indeed distinguished himself but in a negative way.
He pretended he didn't mind being one of the weakest in his year, telling out loud to everyone that could hear him that he was very proud of his laid back attitude towards classes and homework. However, that was all an act and he just wanted to be the best. But since he didn't felt like he could be the best, at least he wanted to be average.
Since he had only classes in the morning, Titus decided he could spend the afternoon studying and catching up with homework. He went to the girl's bathroom on the second floor where he knew he wouldn't be disturbed or distracted. He decided to start by practicing the Levitation Charm. He raised his wand and focused on a pile of toilet paper by a shelf. He wanted to raise one the rolls and make it levitate.
"Wingardium Leviosa," Titus said.
The roll on the top tilted a bit but that was it. He tried again and he produced the same result. At his fourth attempt he was about to declare defeat and try another spell when he heard a strident laugh behind him. He would recognize Myrtle's voice anywhere and he looked at the ghost girl with a frown.
"It's not funny!"
"Of course it is. You can't cast a simple charm. What kind of wizard are you? A not very good one, I see. Maybe the letter you received from Hogwarts was a mistake. It wouldn't be the first time..."
Titus couldn't tell if he believe in Myrtle or not about the school sending letters by mistake to people. After all she has been here for a while now and he probably knew everything that was going on at the castle. The ghost put herself in front of the pile of toilet paper. Titus tried the charm again but he failed.
Her laugh grew and she started to call him a squib, saying he couldn't perform magic. Anger started to form inside of Titus and he felt like he was about to explode:
"I AM NO SQUIB!"
And then he pointed his wand once again to the toilet paper. The object levitated and hit Myrtle, although of course since she was a ghost she didn't feel a thing and it passed right threw her. But that didn't matter. He did it! Titus had finally manage to levitate an object.
"Well, well, well…after all there's talent there. But only when the right buttons are pushed, I see."
Titus looked at her and declared:
"If you call me a squib again I'll kill you."
Myrtle laughed again. "There's talent but also stupidity. I am already dead, Titus Nott. You should know better."
Instead of replying he just used his wand to throw another toilet paper at her.
Let the OWLs Begin
Author: Charisma Stone
Date: 08-22-13 06:52
Theory of Charms had gone well earlier, and now our exam group was standing outside the Great Hall, getting ready for the practical exam that was going on.
The Seventh years were being tested during the same time period, with Professor Douglass proctoring this particular exam. I had a feeling I'd done well on the written portion of the Charms exam, there had only been a small handful of questions that I'd second guessed myself on, but they were few and far between.
Blake was eventually called to go in as a table freed. I had no idea when I'd be going in, but I just hoped that I did well. I spent the time waiting leaning against the wall across from the door, muttering to myself the spells that we'd learned up until now, trying to remember them, and those that had been discussed during the theory exam earlier this morning.
As it was, I was starving, and eagerly waiting for my time in the Great Hall to be done, before I can go to the Common Commons and grab something small to nibble on before dinner was available after quarter past five.
Blake went in, and each time a student stepped out of the Great Hall, another went in, and eventually it would get to my turn, and I was eager to get in and get out of the Great Hall and be done with the Charms exam. Fingers laced through my hair, and ultimately I was called in to begin taking my exam. I headed over to the empty table, which was overseen by Professor Marchbanks.
Twelve and a half minutes later I stepped out of the Great Hall, confident that I'd gotten an Outstanding on my Charms OWL. I'd managed to correctly perform each and every one of the charms that she'd asked of me. I'd levitated the small, round ball that she'd placed on the table and I'd done everything else quite nicely.
Thankfully, once these exams were done, I would have one year to live without the stress of another major examination. I headed to the common commons to met with Blake who was currently in the middle of playing a game of Wizarding Chess with Eric.
Charms Practical
Author: Cai Pembroke Carter
Date: 08-22-13 07:04
Thank Merlin I was the first one in for the practical examination this afternoon. I was eager to get it done and out of the way. Angharad and I felt the same way. We were seriously both ready for this term to be over with, already we were getting a case of the summer jonsings. Ready to be free of the Castle and back out in the world.
"Good luck." I offered to Angharad, a light smile offered to her, before she headed over to the table where Professor Tofty was waiting for her. I headed over to the table where Professor Marchbanks was waiting, and held my wand loosely in my hand, waiting for the practical examination to begin.
Easily, I moved through the spells that were asked of me.
The color change charm was by far the one that I was the best on, making the surface of the book I was offered turn from the brown of leather, to the colors of a vibrant sunset.
Accio resounded as the four of us cast the spell, summoning the item to us as requested by each of the professors proctoring the exam from the Ministry of Magic.
Each of us stepped out of the Great Hall at relatively the same time, which was uplifting and I headed back to my room for the time being. I wanted to destress, and I was considering a shower before I headed down to dinner. There was no quidditch practice as the Championship match had been played nine days ago, and Hufflepuff had come out the victor.
Proctoring Charms All Day
Author: Declan
Date: 08-22-13 08:34
As proctor for the Charms O.W.L. and N.E.W.T. Declan remained in the Great Hall after breakfast to help the process of converted the large room to a testing center. With only one class to teach on Mondays and a class of fifth years at that, he'd not needed to arrange for a substitute.
The written portion of the two Charms exams, often referred to as the Theory of Charms, went by uneventfully. When he'd called ten minutes left, Declan had dropped three or four of the anti-cheating quills into the desk of a student who'd gone through at least that many in the previous fifteen minutes. Knowing only ten minutes were left, the student would no doubt increase the pressure on the quill nubs in the frantic rush to finish.
When those ten minutes were up, he'd call time, quickly collecting exams, quills, and ink. His next task was to rapidly clear the room so that the desks could be removed and the dining tables put back in place. The Great Hall was opened for lunch shortly thereafter. Declan hadn't realized how hungry he was until he sat down to eat.
When lunch ended there was a repeat of the process from breakfast, though instead of desks lined up in neat rows, four stations were set up for Professors Marchbanks, Tofty, Brecknock, and Huntingdon. As always, each is far enough away from the others to help reduce as much as possible any distraction from the students being tested at the other three locations.
When all was ready, Declan had stepped outside the main doors, checking his roster against those students queuing up. At the appointed time he sends in the first four of the fifth years in, ready or not, for the practical portion of the Charms Ordinary Wizarding Level.
Declan's job is to keep the students waiting from getting overly loud while watching for an exam table to be free and sending a student to fill the empty spot. It's not difficult and the in between waits don't seem all the long to him but he's sure to those who have yet to go in, the time between students being sent in is interminable.
He wonders how many go and pass out for a nap after the stress of having both portions of the exam over and the adrenaline has worn off. How many go straight into a final cram session for tomorrow's Transfiguration exams? Sending a student to Professor Brecknock's table, Declan thinks back to when he'd been a student in South Africa, going through exams such as these, and how he was so sure he'd failed every one of them even though he was a good student and had thoroughly prepared for each.