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Newlyweds
Author: Pyrrhus
Date: 08-06-10 16:56
The wedding ceremony itself runs along traditional lines. The officiate welcomes everyone, says a few words meant to serve as sage advice to the soon to be wedded coupled. Vows and rings were exchanged and then couple were being pronounced husband and wife. Miranda, taking her role as flower girl very seriously, had saved back a few rose petals for the walk back down the aisle. She would do a cute little skip a few steps, stop, carefully asses how many petals she had left, then drop a few onto the silk runner. Two year old Georgie, who'd made it down the aisle one direction with coaxing and coaching, squirmed from his father's arms to run down the aisle as best as his toddler legs could carry him, giggling the whole way. Mason offered his arm to Azaelia just as Py has shown him so that the maid of honor was escorted by the best man. Lastly came Isolde and Pyrrhus. They kissed again then started hand in hand down the aisle, Azaelia having already helped Isolde get her dress skirt arranged as Isolde turned from facing the officiate to facing the opposite direction.
As they pass by his parents, Py sees his mother and both his grandmothers dabbing at their eyes. His father's smile is so wide you would have thought he was the groom. Pyrrhus's biological father, born Graham Hipworth but now known as Edmond Jeffers, sits just behind Paul and Eliza Fine, looking almost as proud as Paul, though that could have been because of Mason being in the wedding. Unlike Py, Mason has been raised by Edmond.
The reception is small but after they return from their honeymoon, Isolde and Py are planning on having a much larger, more lavish reception with all the extendend family and their many friends not invited to today's much more intimate, private affair. Still, there are two kinds of cake, and a very nice assortment of food for a sit down meal. Beautiful music, provided by the violinist who played during the ceremony as well as a harpist, adds to the atmosphere. Throughout it all a photographer is taking photos, including ones of the bride and groom cutting the cakes and feeding bites to each other.
There are toasts and lots of laughter and not a single mention is made of Isolde's condition. She's been much better but that's been true before that last - and worst - setback. Today though she glows and as they listen to another toast, Py whispers in Isolde's ear, "In case I haven't mentioned it yet, you look stunning."
"Shhh. My husband might hear you," she says teasingly flirtatlous.
After the cakes have been cut and served for everyone, the music changes for dancing with Pyrrhus escorting Isolde to the small area cleared for dancing with everyone else watching as they take their first dance together as husband and wife. They dance more but sit out just as many songs so that Isolde doesn't get overly tired. A few songs in they do the bouquet and garter throws, with Isolde making a point of throwing her flowers to Azaelia. To everyone's amusement, the now very wired Georgie somehow manages to snag the garter.
After awhile they both change into outfits better suited for traveling. Keeping with the more traditional theme of the wedding, the guests throw rice as Isolde and Py walk down the aisle the guests have formed.
Isolde had done almost all the wedding planning, telling Pyrrhus she prefered to do that and he could plan the honeymoon, and he could even surprise her with a destination. Py had put a great deal of thought into a honeymoon location. He wanted something they could both enjoy but where Isolde would also get plenty of rest.
Their destination has a single Wizarding bed & breakfast and provided Py with a portkey so after they've walked down the two lines of their wedding guests and been showered with rice, Py opens the box with the portkey in it. They hold hands and touch the portkey at the same time. Earlier in the day, Py had sent their luggage on ahead so that he wouldn't have to worry with it now. He'd decided to keep their destination a secret so had told Isolde to pack summery clothes and a few bathing suits. There are so many places at this time of year they could go that would require summery clothes and offer places to swim that by telling her what little he did, Py gave nothing away.
The next sight they see is of large tropical hut looking structure. The sound of waves lapping the shore has her turning around, a delighted smile on her face. It's also visibly later than where they'd just come from. "This is beautiful! Where are we?"
"The Seychelles. Relaxing on the beach, moonlit strolls, we can go sailing, snorkeling, diving, whatever you want."
"Let's get checked in and changed! I want to go exploring!"
A very short time later, both in shorts, and with Isolde wearing a light cotton blouse and Py in a cotton pullover, the newlyweds go for their first moonlit, starry walk along the beach.
Berlin, Germany: Inquiry
Author: Fritz Schnackenpfefferhausen
Date: 08-06-10 19:03
The German Ministry of Magic is located in Berlin. To get there, one enters the Alexanderplatz railway station, goes to the underground, and visits the last stall in the men's restroom, which is labeled as being out of order. The act of flushing the toilet takes one directly to the lobby area of the Ministry. At least, that's the way Fritz knows how to get there. He assumes there are several different entry points, since women can't exactly enter the men's restroom inconspiculously.
The first thing he sees when he gets to the lobby is a large reception desk. Guests of the Ministry all have to sign in there, while employees and contractors go about their business with ID badges visible on their robes. Fritz waits his turn and then states his business while signing his name on the sign-in parchment. He gets directions to the Muggle liasion and then moves in the direction of a large spiral ramp behind the reception desk.
Fritz falls into step with others climbing up the ramp. There are several landings along the way. Fritz gets off at the third one, and using the directions given to him by the reception clerk, navigates his way to what is essentially the Muggle Relations office. It consists of a small reception desk, and many cubicles that stretch back quite a distance.
Again, Fritz states his purpose for being there, and then is directed to a nearby chair. He doesn't have to wait long before a man in his 30s or so approaches. The man extends a hand, says, "Guten Tag," and introduces himself as Richard Schmidt. He leads Fritz back to one of the cubicles and invites him to have a seat.
In German, he asks, "What can I do for you today, Herr Schnackenpfefferhausen?"
In response, Fritz produces the letter he'd received from the German government regarding his required military or community service. He hands it to Herr Schmidt and says, "My parents received this in the mail on my behalf. As a wizard, can I be exempt from this or is it something I still have to do as a German-born citizen?"
Herr Schmidt looks the letter over and nods. It's something he's seen before, and in fact, when he'd been Fritz's age, he'd gotten one too.
"I've only ever seen wizards who were raised as Muggles, that is to say, the Muggle-borns, receive these," he commented. "Wizarding children are pretty much off the radar when it comes to the Muggle government. That said, our government and the Muggle chancellor have discussed this. There'd been some concern that putting a wizard in the military could lead to problems, but that's mostly rubbish as you well know and just Muggles being frightened of what they don't understand."
"The Muggle chancellor knows about wizards?" Fritz asked, surprised by the news.
"Oh, yes, but she would never tell anybody about us."
Fritz was just about to ask why that might be when Herr Schmidt said, "Ultimately, it was decided that it would only be fair if wizards are included, but only wizards like you who already have a foot in the Muggle world."
"That hardly seems fair if purebloods don't have to participate."
Herr Schmidt shrugged. "Like I said, they're off the map as far as the government is concerned. You were born in a Muggle hospital, you went to public school here in Germany, and you probably have, or had at one time, a valid passport, am I right?"
"Yes. So, you're basically saying that I have to go through with this?" Fritz reluctantly asked.
"I'm afraid so. Now the big decision is just what you will do."
Fritz frowned. What would he do? Would he join the Germany military, or would he do nine months of community service somewhere?
Familiar Face
Author: Bronwyn Dewhurst
Date: 08-07-10 11:34
Diagon Alley wasn't as crowded as it probably would be on August 31st, when it seemed like all of Hogwarts went to London to buy textbooks and new robes, but it still seemed more crowded than usual. Bronwyn spotted several school-aged wizards, some older, some younger, going in and out of the different stores she used to frequent when she'd been a student at Hogwarts. Not everyone was a procrastinator, then.
She herself had a few errands to run, though as usual, she was dead on her feet. Although working the night shift at the WWN station should have gotten easier as time went by and Bronwyn grew more and more used to it, she found it harder and harder with each passing day. She really wanted to switch to days and scoured the employment ads daily for jobs for which she could apply. So far, few WWN positions had been posted, and Bronwyn really didn't want to do anything else.
Bronwyn was just passing the offices of The Daily Prophet, when she spotted someone she hadn't seen in years.
"Theodore?" she called out questioningly. He looked both the same and different.
The dark-haired young man paused at the corner near Knockturn Alley and turned to see who had called his name. When he spotted Bronwyn, he looked at her in surprise. A myriad of expressions then crossed his face, but when Bronwyn smiled and drew nearer, he smiled too.
"Bronwyn? Wow, it's been..."
"Years," she finished for him. "How are you?"
"I'm doing well. And you?"
"Oh, I'm all right. What have you been up to since Hogwarts?" Bronwyn asked him.
"Working. I'm a financier," he replied. "And you?"
"I'm a WWN announcer. You probably haven't heard my show because it comes out when normal people are sleeping."
"Is that right?" Theodore chuckled. He glanced down Knockturn Alley, which was considerably darker and dreary than sunny Diagon Alley.
Bronwyn followed his gaze for only a moment and then asked, "Seeing anyone?"
"Dating here and there. And you?"
"I'm married now, to Toby Beck."
"Wow, congratulations. Do you have kids?"
"Not yet," Bronwyn said.
She heard someone call her name and looked to see her brother approaching.
"I better leave you," Theodore said, before Siegfried had reached them. "Nice seeing you again."
"Definitely. See you around, maybe."
"Sure."
Instead of going to Knockturn Alley like he'd intended, Theodore turned and moved in the opposite direction. After a short distance, he stopped and looked over his shoulder, where Bronwyn and Siegfried were talking animatedly to each other. He was relieved that Bronwyn didn't seem to have recovered the memories he'd taken from her a few years ago, when he'd kidnapped her and very nearly killed her.
As far as she was concerned, she hadn't seen him since their days at Hogwarts together. And hopefully, it would stay that way.
About that Note
Author: Bill Weasley
Date: 08-07-10 12:48
After catching a few more performances following Dragon's set at Emrys Fest, Bill had gone straight to the Ministry of Magic while Fleur and Victoire had gone home. The auror he'd talked to about the mysterious note he'd received had promised to look into its origin, particularly since Bill was a potential target of the wizard or wizards behind the attacks on Harry and Ron. Bill didn't have a bodyguard like Ginny and Hermione did, and if it were just him he had to worry about, he probably wouldn't even consider it. With Fleur and Victoire in the picture, however, Bill strongly debated hiring a protection detail to keep his family safe.
He didn't feel that the note he'd gotten had come from the same source as the cursed notes Harry and Ron had received, though. He almost felt like someone was playing a big practical joke on him or perhaps was just trying to get under his skin. He could think of some people who might like to do that. Khalid Adallah was one wizard who had a beef with Bill, but he was recently dead and unlikely to have sent the note. Then again, Adriana Fairchild was dead too, so how could she have even written it? Obviously, it had been forged to look like it had come from her, but why?
Bill wondered if Lysander Stratford or Julian Valentine had something to do with it. Lysander probably wouldn't waste his time on it, however, and Helena Tufton had been Julian's secret love, so why would he want to bring up something that was certainly still a sore spot in his heart? Then again, Bill remembered how angry Julian had been with him following Helena's death. Bill had been the last person to see Helena alive, and they had argued during that last meeting. But again, why would Julian bring it up again now after all these years?
It seemed likely that the author of the note was someone else altogether, but who?
In the days following Emrys Fest, Bill had gone to Charlie with a copy of the note (the original having been submitted into evidence at the Ministry). Charlie had read the single sentence over and over again, but like Bill, hadn't been able to make anything of it. Helena had been Charlie's first wife, and though she had deceived him, the feelings he'd had for her had been real.
Bill thought about paying Julian a visit about the note, but so far he couldn't bring himself to do it. Besides, his work at Gringotts kept him busy enough these days. His student intern was Stephen Hunt. Stephen proved to be a very fast learner and showed an interest in working for the bank after graduating from Hogwarts next year. The internship would last only a little bit longer and then Stephen would have a short amount of time before it was time to go back to school.
Meanwhile, the expansion of the building was complete. Mrs. Davies was glad to have an office of her own and not have to borrow Bill's. Bill was glad about it too because Mrs. Davies tended to get his paperwork in disarray.
At some point Bill would go over to Twice Told Tales and show the note to Julian. He would be interested to know what Julian made of it.
Collecting Astrid
Author: Lysander Stratford
Date: 08-08-10 13:08
Lysander stepped into the Argentine version of the Ministry of Magic and tried to orient himself. Most of the signs were in Spanish, a language Lysander didn't know. He found himself very much lost, until a hand fell on his arm and he turned to find Aralyn Fox standing next to him.
"You look a little overwhelmed," she said, taking her hand away. She gestured to the man standing just behind her. "This is my husband, Vincente. Vincente, this is Lysander. We went to Hogwarts together."
"It is a pleasure to make your acquiantance," Vincente said, shaking Lysander's hand. He had a slight accent, though his English was perfect.
Lysander nodded and tried to make it seem as if he'd never met Aralyn's husband. Neither Aralyn nor Vincente remembered that Lysander had already met the latter, since those memories had been erased from their minds.
"We'll show you where they are keeping Astrid," Aralyn said, gesturing for Lysander to follow her and her husband through the busy wizarding government headquarters. The law enforcement department was located on the same floor as the lobby. Astrid was being kept in one of the temporary holding cells there.
Vincente did the talking at the reception desk, where they were asked to temporarily give up their wands and submit to a quick search before entering the secure area. One of the law enforcement officers led the group into the back, where the holding cells were located. Some were empty, while others were full. Some held single occupants, others several individuals at once.
Astrid was in a small cell all to herself. She was sitting on her cot, staring into space. Her hair hung limp around her face and looked rather dishelved in the back. When she saw she had visitors, she looked up in surprise. Lysander was standing in the foreground, after the law enforcement personnel, and it was him Astrid noticed first.
Her eyes went large and round and a gasp escaped her lips. Before long, she was up on her feet at the bars of her cell, reaching out to Lysander. He was close enough that she could reach him, and she pulled him to her in an awkward hug and pressed kisses to his face.
"Lysander! Where have you been? What happened? I thought for sure––"
But before she could finish her thought, Lysander cut her off with a finger to her lips and then gently extricated himself from her embrace.
"I'll fill you in on it later. You're going to get released today, and then I'm going to take you home."
Astrid looked over his shoulder at Aralyn, who was looking at Lysander with interest.
The law enforcement officer said she needed to stay put a little longer and then started to lead the others to a desk where they could fill out some paperwork. Vincente moved ahead with the guard, while Aralyn fell back to talk to Lysander.
"Lysander, are you having an affair with Astrid?" Aralyn asked. "Does Chyler know? Where is she anyway?"
Lysander knew that Astrid throwing herself on him like she had just done had suggested they were more than just cousins-in-law, but he didn't want to tell Aralyn that yes, he was dating Astrid now. It would only lead to more questions about Chyler, and Lysander so didn't want to go there right now.
"She's just keen on me, is all," Lysander answered carefully. "As for Chyler, she stayed home to look after Charlotte. Charlotte came down with a fever before I got ready to leave and Chyler didn't want to leave her side."
Aralyn said, "I'm sorry to hear that," but whether she truly believed Lysander, he couldn't tell.
They reached the desk and started to fill out the paperwork necessary for Astrid's release.
Therapy
Author: Carys
Date: 08-10-10 18:15
In all the years Carys' mother had owned and operated Hanham Photography in Cardiff, Carys had never noticed the psychologist's office two doors down. Evidently, it had always been there, since well before Gaenor Hanham had first opened her photography studio.
When it seemed obvious that Carys needed more than just time to get over her issues, her grandfather had gone to see the elderly witch whose name was on the door. Amoret Needlehouse and Alun actually knew each other from their time at Hogwarts, and though they hadn't kept in regular contact over the years, they had seen each other from time to time, mostly whenever Alun had visited his daughter at her studio.
Alun had feared that Carys wouldn't want to open up about her feelings to anyone, least of all a perfect stranger, but when approached with the idea, Carys had readily agreed. She didn't want to feel miserable anymore, especially when she knew that it affected not only herself, but her family and her friends.
Today was to be her very first session with Amoret Needlehouse. Alun had offered to go with her, but Carys had declined in favor of him keeping an eye on Tristan while she went into the wizarding business strip of city.
Although there were pockets of wizarding places all around Cardiff, there was a main street for shopping. It wasn't tucked away in a hidden alley the way Diagon Alley was in London, though. There were a few Muggle shoppes scattered along the street with the illusion that they were quite bigger than they really were. When a Muggle got inside, he or she simply didn't notice that, in fact, the building wasn't as large as the storefront suggested. In reality, wizarding buildings took up the extra space. The Muggles just couldn't see them.
When Carys got to where Hanham Photography used to be, she frowned. There was a music store in the building now. It sold sheet music as well as instruments, from ordinary Muggle varieties like clarinets and violins to wizarding instruments like exploding tubas and magical bodhráns. It hurt Carys that her mother's studio wasn't there anymore, but its absence wasn't anything new. It had been that way for nearly five years now.
Carys had started walking again but stopped when she realized the significance of what this summer meant. Her brother had died five years ago, and the fifth anniversary of her mother's death was coming up on the thirty-first of August. She immediately felt guilty for not thinking of them more often and for having forgotten to mark the anniversary of Owain's death with a visit to the cemetery.
Carys almost forgot that she had an appointment to make. She had started to turn around and go home, but then she remembered where she needed to be.
She walked the few remaining steps to the office. Inside, it was pleasant and cozy. There were overstuffed armchairs reminiscent of those she remembered from the Gryffindor common room at Hogwarts. A sidetable was laden with magazines, and another had a vase with a bouquet of brightly colored flowers. A cheery-faced receptionist looked up from filing her nails and exclaimed, "You must be Carys. Amoret is waiting for you."
Carys fidgeted where she stood. Was she late?
"She has a pretty empty day today so she's rather looking forward to some company. She's just down the hallway there," the receptionist went on, pointing with a perfectly manicured nail to the hallway in question.
Carys swallowed the lump in her throat and mumbled her thanks before setting off for her very first therapy session with Amoret Needlehouse.
Functioning As Close To Normal As Possible
Author: Furnella Hodfuffer
Date: 08-10-10 19:21
My son Phin, his step-sister Jewel, her fiance Bailey, and I stand just inside the entrance of one of the private rooms we offer for rent at the Crown & Cauldron. At the moment it's filled with round tables that seat four with four chairs at each of those tables. There is also a speaker's podium opposite from where we stand. I explain to Jewel and Bailey, "We've got a historical society luncheon with guest speaker here today. They prefer these tables in this particular arrangement. This is also similar the usual arrangement, for those days we're particularly busy and need the extra seating."
Jewel moves further into the room, her eyes taking in the details. "If we did both the ceremony and reception in here, would it be too much?"
"Not with as small a gathering as you've talked about."
Phin walks across the room to the speaker's podium. "Is this the direction you'd want to be facing or to the windows?" He gestures to a wall that's lines with floor to ceiling windows overlooking part of a side garden that's part of our landscaping. There's a set of French doors in the middle, also of glass, that open onto a small courtyard semi-enclosed with vine cover stone walls.
Jewel and Bailey both study the room more before either ventures to answer Phin's question. I keep my mouth shut. It's their wedding and reception and I do not want to thrust my ideas on them as to how I would do things. Bailey ends up going to the French doors and with his hands on the handles asking, "May I?"
"Yes, certainly. I don't think they're locked at the moment."
He nods, pushing down the handle of one then the other and pulling them inward. After stepping outside Bailey walks around the courtyard where he's soon joined by Jewel. Holding hands they make a slow circuit around the courtyard, Jewel stopping to smell some of the fragrant flowers blooming. Inside the restaurant and around the immediate vicinity of the outdoor dining area, we don't have candles or flowers with fragrance. Any live flowers inside and around the outside dining area don't have a perceptible scent to the average human nose. Away from the outer dining area, in places such as this courtyard, we do have fragrant flowers. At the moment, Jewel is bent over a vibrant yellow rose, her eyes closes as she inhales the sweet aroma. After a few seconds she straightens and turns to say something to Bailey. They stand close, her face turned up to his, his looking down at her as if she's the only thing in the world at this very moment.
I smile at the scene then move to sit in one of the chairs at the nearest table. Phin comes to join me, asking as he does, "Are you all right? You've been really quite lately. Almost meloncholy."
With a slight back and forth shake of my head I tell him, "I'm fine."
"You can say that all you want but I don't think you believe it anymore than I do. Is this about what you think you saw at Emrys Fest? Or should I say who you think you saw?"
"I know I saw him. All those who've seen the memory agree with me that the man I saw looks like Forest. Every time I've looked at it again, I just become more convinced he was there."
"How many times have you viewed it in a pensieve? And how many others at the Ministry have?"
"Five others have, including Prunella Cromwell."
"Have you told his family yet?"
"No. None of us want to give them false hope."
"Can't say I blame you there."
I don't reply to that because Jewel and Bailey have come back inside to ask, "Would it be possible to have the ceremony in the courtyard? If we have it out there, how many guest could comfortably sit or stand out there or would it be better to have them seated here inside, facing that way?"
Standing up again, patting Phin's shoulder as I do, I walk out to the courtyard with them to see get a better idea of what they've got in mind for the ceremony so that I can better answer their questions. Now, as with every waking moment since Emrys Fest, at the back of my mind is one question after another about whether that was Forest Woods I saw but if not, then who? If Forest, what was he doing there? Where has he been? Did he not hear me calling to him? If he did, why didn't he turn to acknowledge me?
Trying to function as normal with all these thoughts about Forest swirling through my mind is mentally exhausting. But, I do what I've been doing. I do my best to carrying on with the business at hand, which at the moment is helping Jewel and Bailey plan an intimate wedding ceremony and reception. At least Jewel's mother, Phin's step-mother, will be arriving tomorrow to help with some of this planning. Or maybe that's not a good thing since it's less for me, which in turn gives me more time to think about Forest, or whoever it was I saw at Emrys Fest.