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All Smiles, At First
Author: Bronwyn Dewhurst
Date: 12-10-12 10:19
"Don't your cheeks hurt?" Toby asked. "You've been smiling nonstop."
He and his wife were busy cleaning their duplex, a task they had neglected to do for longer than either wished to admit. Toby busied himself with removing cat hair from the sofa, while Bronwyn sorted through old magazines to see what could be tossed and which she wanted to keep.
Bronwyn looked up from her sorting (the keep pile was much larger than the discard pile).
"You would prefer me frowning all the time?" she facetiously asked.
"Of course not," Toby responded, shaking his head at Shadow who had decided to get on the sofa and groom himself. With every lick, black hair dispersed in all directions.
"You've always been a happy-go-lucky sort of person," Toby went on, "but this is a bit much, even for you."
"I can't help it," Bronwyn said. "I'm really, really, really happy for Desi."
From her hospital conversation with Orion, Bronwyn had learned quite a lot regarding his feelings for Desi––both said and unsaid––and in the last week, Desi had fessed up that she and Orion were finally taking things to the next level. Their fake relationship was now very real.
"I'm hoping he's the one," Bronwyn admitted.
"Didn't you say that about Xavier?" Toby asked, grinning, and then dodged a magazine thrown his way.
"Well, that didn't work out the way I wanted, thanks to She-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named. But," Bronwyn continued, "maybe the second time is the charm."
"Is this one for the toss pile?" Toby asked, picking up the magazine his wife had used as a missile. "Are you really going to keep all those?"
Bronwyn held out her hands. "Yes, they have important fashion tips in them. I can't just throw them out."
Toby shook his head and handed her the magazine. "Do we need to invest in some sort of filing cabinet or magazine binder for everything you plan on keeping?"
"Are you suggesting we go shopping?"
"Merlin, no. If you want to do that, take Karma or Desi. Is Desi well enough to spend hours at the mall with you?"
"She's almost recovered," Bronwyn said, tapping her chin, "and she does like to pay for things."
Toby laughed. "Great." He scooped Shadow up and deposited him onto the floor. The black cat looked miffed and started to stalk away to groom some place else, when he froze with ears alert and eyes focused on something out the window.
Bronwyn, too busy deciding on her magazines, didn't notice. Toby, however, turned to look and saw a large, charcoal-colored owl approaching. He opened the window to allow it inside and summoned a bowl of owl treats kept behind a closed cabinet so that the cats couldn't get to it.
The owl dropped a small envelope onto the coffee table, scooped up treats with both talons, and flew out the window, much to Shadow's disappointment. Toby sent the bowl away and closed the window.
"What's that?"
Bronwyn picked up the envelope. It was addressed to her in a handwriting she didn't recognize. Smudged ink or perhaps dirt marred the wheat-colored parchment. Bronwyn wrinkled her nose.
"You would think somebody sending owl post would have the courtesy to use clean parchment," she commented, opening the envelope with as little touching as possible.
"Maybe the owl dropped it."
"Why would the owl drop the mail it's carrying?"
"Because it saw a field mouse along the way and decided to have lunch?"
But Bronwyn didn't answer. She had removed the equally begrimed letter from the envelope and read the short lines written upon it. The smile she had been wearing ever since hearing Desi's good news faded completely.
"What is it?" Toby asked, noticing Bronwyn's fallen expression.
"This is from Azkaban," she slowly answered, her mind still trying to wrap around the fact that she had gotten a letter from prison. She met Toby's eyes. "It's from Theodore."
Watching
Author: Rowan Westwick
Date: 12-10-12 11:19
Rowan didn't have any intention of watching the Quidditch trials, preferring instead to take advantage of the relative emptiness of the castle. Neither she nor Willow had played Quidditch the last time they had been students at Hogwarts, and neither owned broomsticks, not now or in their previous lifetimes. The reason Rowan eventually found herself in the stands was because Willow had convinced her to go.
The Westwick sisters sat together, as they often did when they had the opportunity. Two weeks into term, and both still felt like outcasts, although Willow was making more of an effort at fitting in than Rowan.
"I think I might see about trying out for Quidditch commentator," she told Rowan, as they watched one of the scrimmage matches take place.
"You are?" Rowan asked, shocked.
"Yeah," Willow admitted. "I think the best way to feel normal is to just put myself out there." She saw the look on her sister's face and said, "I'm not talking about exposing my strange life to the whole school. It's not like I'm going to make an announcement about it or anything. I just want to move on with my life, don't you?"
Rowan sighed. "Of course I do. When I first came back, I found myself in this strange future, but somehow I got over it and adapted to all the changes."
"And it was so much harder for me," Willow reminded her.
"I know, but now it seems like we've traded places," Rowan said. "You're the one adapting and I'm too scared to do anything. I still haven't decided what to do about that extra credit assignment for History of Magic."
"It's extra credit, which means that you don't have to do it if you don't want to," Willow told her, "but at the same time, if you do, maybe it'll be a welcome relief."
Rowan nodded. "I've had that thought."
Willow's eyes roved the action on the field. "See that girl there, the dark-haired one?"
"Yes," Rowan said. "What about her?"
"She's one of my roommates. I get the feeling she's kind of an outcast, though I don't really know why. She only hangs out with one of the boys in our year, and I don't know what his story is."
"So?"
"So, the point I'm trying to make is that we're not the only ones who feel like we don't fit in. Even people who weren't cursed for a quarter century have issues."
Rowan smiled at Willow. "When did you get so smart, little sister?"
Willow grinned. "Maybe I'm just acting my real age. Technically, I should be an adult."
"You and me both," Rowan said. "Okay, then. Try out for commentator, if there are tryouts for it? Meanwhile, I will make an effort to fit in too." She scanned the players on the field and spotted her own roommate Beatrix playing keeper. Rowan figured she could start her attempt at normalcy by being more friendly and maybe even making a real friend.
(Aralyn) Instincts
Author: Lysander Stratford
Date: 12-10-12 12:45
The sounds of cheering and loud voices carried all the way into the village from the Quidditch Pitch on the Hogwarts grounds. Aralyn only half-listened to the noise, focusing instead on the thoughts that ran rampant in her head. She had not told anybody, not even Kristos, about what she had learned at the Ministry of Magic.
Her first impression had been total shock at seeing her name next to Lysander's and Charlotte's in the birth register. Surely she would know that the child was hers. Even if somebody had tampered with her memories, and she had no doubt now that Lysander had for reasons still unknown, wouldn't she have been instinctually drawn to her own child?
Her next thought had been to go straight to Twice Told Tales and snatch Charlotte away from Lysander, but she hadn't. Aralyn was well-aware that Charlotte wouldn't think too kindly of her if she took her away from the only parent she knew. Although unsure, Aralyn didn't think Lysander had gone so far as to adjust Charlotte's own memories. Probably, Aralyn had been out of Charlotte's life for nearly as long as the child had been living.
But why had he done it at all? What had gone so wrong in their relationship that Lysander wished to cut her from his and Charlotte's life? Or had they not really had a relationship? Had it been a one-night stand that had led to Charlotte's existence?
Obviously, Lysander had also gotten to Kristos. Aralyn suspected her brother had been aware that Charlotte was his niece, and that Lysander had covered his tracks by obliviating Kristos too. She remembered how Kristos had somehow become aware of a gap in his mind, which was how he came to participate in the memory study conducted at St. Mungo's a few years ago.
Why hadn't she ever come to the same realization? Had Lysander simply done a better job of making her forget than he had with Kristos?
Aralyn wanted to confront Lysander, but she wasn't sure how without causing problems for Charlotte. Her daughter was the reason why Aralyn hadn't said anything to Kristos yet. Kristos would want to go blazing into the bookshop, and would want to punish Lysander for keeping his sister away from her daughter. Aralyn didn't want that to happen.
She slowed to a stop outside the used bookstore and looked into the front window. She saw both Lysander and Charlotte. Lysander was putting books on a shelf, and Charlotte was seated in a large chair with a book in her lap.
"Aralyn?"
Startled, she turned and pressed a hand to her chest. "Liam," she said, when she found the ability to speak again. Her gaze dropped to the boy and girl with him.
"These are my children, Noah and Sophia," he introduced. "Say hello to Aralyn. She's a friend of Uncle Lysander's."
The kids murmured hello and then slipped into the shoppe to play with Charlotte.
Aralyn watched them for a long minute, wondering if she and Lysander would have had more children together, had whatever happened to separate them not happened at all.
"Are you all right, Aralyn? You seem concerned about something," Liam said.
She kept her eyes on the scene inside the bookshop and replied, "I just found out something really major and it's consuming me whole."
"I take it whatever you found out isn't good."
She took in a sharp breath. "Well," she said, "it's a bit of both, actually."
Inside, the children pointed out the window, where Aralyn and Liam stood. Lysander locked eyes with Aralyn. She stared back at him with an expression of such hurt that he looked completely taken aback. Then her eyes dropped to Charlotte, who was pointing out the illustrations in the book she was reading. She couldn't decipher the expression on Lysander's face when she looked at him again.
Aralyn turned to Liam. "I better go. I have to work."
"Whatever it is, I hope it doesn't worry you for much longer."
She smiled at him. "Thanks."
He nodded at her and went into the bookstore, where Lysander was still watching them. Aralyn didn't give him or her daughter another look and continued on to Petals for her shift.
Seeking The Position Of Seeker
Author: Christopher Chant
Date: 12-10-12 12:58
Leaning back on his broom Christopher allows a small sound of exasperation to escape his lips. He saw the pitch not two seconds before, steered this direction and poof, now it's gone. No one got in his way blocking his line of sight. No ball crossed his path. There's been no gust of wind. No swirl of debris.
He simply doesn't understand how the snitch could be there one second, his eyes firmly locked onto it and gone the next as if its apparated away.
Scanning the immediate vicinity, Christopher sees nothing that remotely resembles a small white ball with golden wings. Putting his broom in motion again, he starts the search once more, only somewhat mollified that the other seeker this match has not spotted the snitch at all. At least he's caught the snitch in two of the scrimmages he's participated in, even if one was an extreme fluke and no one else in the match was happy with him in the slightest.
That scrimmage has been only 30 to 45 seconds into the match. The laces on one shoe suddenly felt loose and as he didn't want to be zipping along at top speed in pursuit of the snitch and have his shoe fly off and bean someone in the stands or on the ground, he'd contorted to pull his foot up and onto his broom stick, carefully balancing as he started tightening the shoelaces.
That done, he'd dropped his foot back down and lifted his head to look around, assess the situation and scope out what the other seeker was doing. When he'd looked up, the snitch was right there, practically touching the tip of his nose. Pretty as you please and quick as he could, Christopher has snatched it from in front of his face, capturing the snitch and ending the match. His teammates and those on the opposing team weren't happy because the match had hardly begun and all were wanting to have as long as possibly to showcase their skills in their desired positions to better increase their chances of being selected for their respective house teams.
Christopher had smiled and shrugged somewhat unapologetically. He'd done his job and won the match for his team in the process.
In addition to the match he's in now where the snitch seems to have developed either the skill to disapparate or to use concealment charms and the two in which he'd gotten the snitch, Christopher has been in a few other matches today, all as seeker. Before that he'd been in Viktor Krum's group for the warm-ups and drills. He'd run sprints and flown sprints, he'd weaved his way through spinning rings. There were bludgers to dodge, one of which clipped him on one knee and from the way it's still sore he has little doubt he'll find a bluish-purple mark when he goes to change later. One of the seeker styled drills had them chasing after a single snitch in a straight line, trying to first catch up to it and then to actually grab it before the area designated for the lane ran out. It's one of those drills that sounds easy enough but isn't.
Down near the ground Christopher spots the snitch again. Angling into a dive by the time, he never lets his eyes stray from the speck of white and gold. The other seeker comes at the ball from a different direction and angle, both of them having to give chase when the snitch takes off along the ground away from them both. Christopher is closest to it when the whistle blows ending the match.
Touching to the ground, he goes in search of a drink before joining Catriona who's come to cheer him on.
The Chase Is On (Hunter Rabnott)
Author: Aaron Miller
Date: 12-10-12 15:21
Tired, Hunter Rabnott backhands his eyes, which have begun to feel gritty after being outside since just after breakfast and in the air for scrimmages throughout the day. Going to the table where there are sandwiches and other easily portable foods he grabs a napkin, wets it with water from the bottle he's carrying then dabs the napkin across both eyes.
"Problem?"
At the sound of his brother's voice Hunter shakes his head. "Other than starting to run out of energy, no."
Hadrian grins. "Up late were you?"
"Sort of."
"Don't suppose you've finally found a girlfriend and she happens to also be in Gryffindor."
"Polly Potts offered to snog."
"Don't be flattered. You aren't the first. If someone told me she was spied in a dark corner locking lips with Snape I wouldn't be surprised."
In the process of taking a drink of his water Hunter nearly chokes from trying not to laugh. When he can talk he says, "I still can't believe you decided not to try out. You always try out."
"I don't always make it though."
"But you have other times."
Hadrian lifts one shoulder. "I actually did sign up on the sheet on the Ravenclaw bulletin board but then I got to thinking about NEWTs and the extra time needed for those."
"So you chose extra study time over possibly spending your seventh year on your house team. Spoken like a true Ravenclaw grades freak."
"As someone who puts in a fair amount of time studying too, you're one to talk."
"I don't do it because I WANT to. I do it because Mum and Dad will make me quit the fun stuff like Quidditch if I don't meet their standards. It doesn't help that my eldest sibling sets such a high mark."
Hadrian grins again. "The perk of being first born. Say, what happened to your hand?" He's only just noticed a gash across the back of Hunter's left hand.
Hunter had been in Beatriz Basso's group this morning for the warm ups and drills. He explains, "We were doing some exercises on the ground. Someone tripped, bumped into someone else who knocked me over and then somehow managed to also trod on my hand."
"Trod. Yes, that's a word a normal chap your age who doesn't put in extra studying uses on a regular basis."
"Oh, shut up."
"How did stepping on your hand do that?"
"We aren't sure but it did. It looks worse than it is and hasn't really bothered me except for right after it happened and only then partily because I got smacked by a bludger there."
When his group has begun drills, the gash has throbbed under the plaster, which he's since lost at some point in the day, Ms. Basso has put on it after making sure it was clean. The bludger drill in which he'd taken the hit was the one where a bunch of bludgers came one right after the other in rapid succession, forcing Hunter to move quickly back, forth, up, and down. He'd gotten clipped on the shoulder and then the one that took him on the hand right across the gash. Other than that, he'd done well avoiding getting hit. Better than in a lot of actual games, that's for sure.
Hunter's worst drill performances had been those involving snitches. He gets far too impatient trying to spot and catch the bloody thing and even the drill with lots of snitches buzzing around him wasn't much of an improvement. The only time he likes that is when it's a fair game for prizes, though why he'd do better in that situation than in a drill he has no idea.
Hunter continues talking with Hadrian for a few more minutes, until he needs to go form up for another match. Jack Emerson and his cousin Marlow MacDougal are the other two chasers with him this go around. A first year from his house, a boy called Mickey, Olive Green, and Sadie Mickle are the three opposing chasers. His eyes linger on Sadie a little longer than necessary, Hadrian's comment about having a girlfriend coming to mind. Sadie is cute and she likes Quidditch plus she's nice. Now's not really the time for such thoughts though, not when he doesn't now if he's got a lock on a chaser position with Gryffindor yet.
When Sadie vies with Hunter for the quaffle first, his competitive instinct kicks in. Cute girl or no, she's not on his squad this match. Hunter dives for the quaffle, getting it a hairsbreadth before she does. He does a lob to Marlow who takes the quaffle and rockets away, Mickey Moon right on her heels.
Jack gets ahead of Marlow so she's got an opening to throw. Mickey manages to bump her, which puts off her aim just enough that it's a little wide of Jack's position. He backtracks for it but not before Olive gets there. She makes a long pass to Sadie but Hunter is able to maneuver into the quaffle's path for the steal. Red ball tucked in close, he gives Sadie a sidelong glance, a smile quirking his lips upward as he accelerates away.
By match's end, the score is tied one goal apiece, not bad for such a short time to play. On the ground again, Hunter finds himself looking at Sadie once more, wondering if he asked her to sit with him at lunch some day if she'd accept.
(Ailbe: McCray Manor) An Important Meeting
Author: Roisin Rae McCray
Date: 12-10-12 16:09
Ailbe McCray reached for his pipe. He never felt completely comfortable without nibbling at the edge. He had it for decades and couldn't bare to think on parting with it, for he thought of it as a materialized friend. Plus it helped him pass the time by striking up some creative thought. He leaned back in his chair and began to hum to himself. He was waiting for an old friend who worked for the Ministry; Albert Oswin who was employed by the Improper Use of Magic Office.
They had been friends since their days at Hogwarts, causing mischief among their fellow Ravenclaws. They were all fine memories the two shared from their youth but were a pain to their parents. He began to think back on those days when Albert entered the study. Ailbe stood to great him, taking his hand as he exclaimed:
"Right on time! Late as expected! Never early, never on time, but always late." He let off a chuckle as he sat back down and signaled for his companion to take a seat in front of his desk. "How is everything, old friend?"
Albert leaned back and folded his legs and moved to stroke his white beard as he eyed Shakespeare, who was resting on the windowsill. "Everything is well with me but I know nothing is well with you."
He got right to the point. As always and as suspected. But despite this expectation Ailbe's features sunk as he became saddened. "I'm sure you've read the news."
"I have indeed and I find it to be preposterous. Who knew Freddie's wife..." All of a sudden he stopped speaking, as if he had some revelation that his words would bring his friend painful memories.
"Albert," Ailbe said, pressing his fingers in prayer formation as he leaned forward. "Please use your contact at Azkaban. Make it certain that Bernice never has a means of escaping. I do not want her to come for her daughter..."
"I will do my best." He responded, pausing to think on something he had forgotten. "How do you want me to handle the Snodgrass affair?"
Just the referral of the McCray enemies made Ailbe's lips form into a tight frown. He absolutely hated all Snodgrasses and hated it even more to deal with them. In fact he would do his best to avoid them all but with this latest pestering event, he had no choice but to intervene.
The Jenkins Brothers (Alastor & Jasper)
Author: Aaron Miller
Date: 12-10-12 17:09
Cousins Eden Jenkins and Heather Rabnott sit together discussing whatever comes to mind. At the moment that's a cute top they've spotted another girl wearing. Upon seeing the top they both now covet they'd stopped mid-conversation on who they thought might be selected for their respective house teams, Eden being in Hufflepuff and Heather in Ravenclaw. That they've been at the pitch since before the trials began is testament to the fact that they both like Quidditch and even enjoy playing it. That they would rather spend the time required for Quidditch practice if on a team doing other things, such as sitting in the commons seeing if there are covet worthy cute clothes on display, is why they are not trying out themselves.
Only one of Heather's brothers is trying out today, Hunter, who's just finished up a match. Both of Eden's are hoping to make their house teams. Both Alastor and Jasper are trying out for chaser while Alastor is also trying out for beater, his preferred position. About the time the two girls were spotting that totally cute top, Alastor and Jasper were taking to the air as chasers on the same team.
Right out of the gate Jasper takes a bludger to the forearm as he's reaching for the quaffle. A girl from Gryffindor get the quaffle instead. Undaunted, Jasper pursues watching for an opening to steal. It comes only a short time later when the girl decides to finally pass to one of her teammates. When she throws, Jasper has a good idea of why she's held onto the quaffle for so long. She's got somewhat poor aim and not a very good arm for throwing even a short distance. He wonders why she'd want to try out for chaser instead of something like seeker or keeper instead.
Jasper easily makes the interception and almost immediately has to duck a bludger. He passes to the other chaser on his team who in turn passes off to Alastor. The seventh year makes a drive in towards the opposing keeper, quaffle at the ready for a goal shot. Letting it fly, Alastor watches as the quaffle gets past the keeper only to hit the hoop's rim. Bouncing off back towards him and the other chasers, there's a mash up to be the one getting the rebound. A chaser from the other team, not the Gryffindor girl, gets it. Jerking broom around to head back the other way, Alastor, Jasper, and the other chasers and all four beaters start the same direction.
As the match comes to a close in what seems like only a blink later, the game is scoreless though Jasper did get a goal attempt in as did the third chaser playing with the Jenkinses while the only goal shot made by the other side was by the Gryffindor girl who can't throw very well.
The next scrimmage Alastor is in is as beater. Using his own bat instead of one provided today, he climbs with his broom to wait for the match to start. When it does, he's off like a shot to the nearest bludger. The other team has possession of the quaffle so Alastor targets the chaser with the ball. The other three beaters are all trying to get to the second bludger so Alastor flies after the one he's just hit, ready to hit it again once it's found its mark.
When the bludger has indeed hit the chaser, causing a little havoc with the chaser's hold on the quaffle and letting one of Alastor's teammates pluck the red ball away, and when he's got the necessary clearance to swing the bat to knock the bludger elsewhere, Alstor smacks it in the direction of the other team's seeker is looks to have sighted the snitch.
When he's once again sitting, waiting to see if he'll get another turn to play, Alastor can't believe how fast the day's gone by so far. It hardly seems above an hour or two since he was placed into Stan Stanislaus's group and Jasper into Imelda Weatherstorm's. The drills they'd done had been similar, and in some cases identical, if in a different order. With beater being the position he likes best to play, Alastor found he was more focused and did better on the drills geared more toward those playing that position, such as batting bludgers at moving targets. Jasper, on the other hand, really shown with the more chaser related drills. He even got a quaffle past Imelda Weatherstorm when she was standing in as keeper, not such an easy feat.
While Alastor is sitting thinking how fast this day is going, Jasper is at the food table, eating for about the fourth time since food was first put out. A ham and cheese sandwich along with a small bowl of raw vegetables to crunch on, Jasper locates some of his friends to go join them, hoping he'll get another chance to play before the trials end.