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Ice-cream
Author: Johanna Steele
Date: 10-18-13 13:11
"Sorry I'm late. I got stuck at the cauldron shop. If I knew a new cauldron would be so expensive, I wouldn't have gotten rid of my old one."
"It's all right. I arrived like two minutes ago myself. Madam Malkin's was filled with first years."
Taran Tremaine seated in front of Johanna, placing his brand new cauldron on the floor. They were at Florean Fortscue's Ice Cream Parlour and while Johanna asked for a chocolate ice-cream, Taran chose the strawberry flavor instead. They had been writing to each other during the summer, being him the one who sent the first letter. Taran had asked her to go to St. Emrys with him but things didn't go as they planned due to what Mark had done to Kate. Johanna ended up cancelling her plans with Taran and now to make up to him she set up this date at Diagon-Alley.
"I'm sorry once again about the way I dismissed you at the festival. But Kate needed me."
"No worries, I understand."
Taran's reply was short and that pleased Johanna. She didn't want to discuss with him the Kate/Mark issue. But of course it was no secret. Several students had seen Mark with the unknown girl and Johanna was sure by now everyone at school knew what had happened, including Taran.
She decided to change subject and asked him for his OWLs grades. She had received her letter recently and she had to make some choices about what classes to drop considering what she might want to do in the future. Johanna was pretty sure she would want to study History of Magic after Hogwarts and make a career in it. Like she expected, she had an Outstanding on her OWL. However, her father advised her to keep other options opened just in case and she decided to take most of the subjects she was already having. She had good grades in her OWLs that allowed her to continue taking those subjects. But she decided to drop Care of Magical Creatures and also Fitness & Athletics. She completed her choices by opting to take Alchemy this year.
"I got an 'Acceptable' at Charms. So I won't be able to take it next year."
"Oh Taran, I'm sorry…"
"That's all right," he replied shrugging his shoulders. "But hey I got an 'Outstanding' at Arithmancy & Divination. "
"I am impressed! Does that mean you can actually read the future in a tea cup?"
The ice-creams arrived and Taran attacked his with enthusiasm.
"Sort of. It's not a subject where you read the textbook and you try to memorize what's in it. It's all about intuition. Either you are gifted or not."
"Prove it to me," and she offered him her hand, her palm turned up."Read my palm," Johanna demanded.
"Very well," Taran replied amused.
He adjusted himself on the chair and then he picked up her hand. He took a look at it, and he started to touch the lines from Johann's palm. At first he was very quiet and that left her impatient. But then he finally said that she was going to have a nice life, with a husband, four children and a dog. She removed her hand.
"You couldn't even earn you keep as a con artists. That was the worst palm reading is history, Taran. Everyone could have picked up my hand and predict those same things. "
"Maybe. But could they have predicted this?" he asked leaning forward and kissing her.
The ice-creams were left alone, melting in their bowls, completely forgotten.
A Week-Long Visit
Author: Jolyon
Date: 10-18-13 17:58
Asher stood against the stone railing of a little bridge that arched over a narrow stream and looked out over the water. There weren't any fish in the stream as far as he could tell, only rocks worn smooth over time. His eyes caught on a green leaf that had fallen into the stream. He watched it get swept away, disappearing around a bend.
A sharp barking drew his attention. Asher turned his head but remained in his position against the stone railing and saw his grandmother's new cocker spaniel wagging his stump of a tail. Arielle held onto a stick in her hand and waved it in front of the black, gray and white dog's nose.
Their grandmother laughed and said, "Wait until we get off the path, dear."
Arielle shot the dog a sympathetic smile and told him, "Not yet, Tor." She patted him on the head and then pulled on his lead to get him to follow her onto the bridge.
Bridget and Jolyon followed. It was just the five of them, grandmother, father, the twins and the dog, which had been a gift from Gaius. Other than one planned dinner, Bridget's paramour wouldn't be spending the week with them, electing to give her a chance to get to know her grandchildren without him serving as a distraction.
As expected, Arielle had no trouble fitting in with the family. She got on with her grandmother well. Asher, although much more pleasant towards Bridget than he was towards his sister and father, seemed eager for the week to end.
He waited for the others to pass him before falling into step behind them. They strolled leisurely down the path to an open field, where Arielle let Tor loose and pitched the stick as far as she could throw it. The dog bounded eagerly after it and brought it back to Arielle, wagging his tail happily. Arielle threw it again and again, but not very far in Asher's opinion. He didn't want to seem interested in the game, but he couldn't help himself.
"Let me try," he said, holding out his hand for the stick. Arielle reluctantly handed it to him.
Asher threw it hard and much farther than Arielle could. Tor disappeared into the high grass and then emerged later with the stick in his mouth. Asher threw it a few more times and eventually started to laugh until he realized that he wasn't supposed to feel happy. When Tor brought the stick back, Asher wordlessly handed it to Arielle and moved away from the group.
Jolyon watched his son with a frown. Why did he have to be so stubborn?
Bridget walked over to Asher and started telling him about the area. How the field belonged to a Muggle farmer. Where the stream began and ended. Over the course of the conversation, Asher visibly softened. He couldn't help it. He kind of liked his grandmother, even if she had spawned his father, someone Asher vowed never to like.
He looked over his shoulder at Jolyon then, and saw that he was watching him. Asher turned away and scowled. He would not be happy this week. Not if he could help it.
Meeting Hagrid
Author: Finley
Date: 10-19-13 10:54
Finley sat in Mrs. Gill's office and awaited the arrival of someone from her new school, who was supposed to take her shopping for the supplies she would need for when term started on the first of September. The fact that Finley didn't have any money didn't appear to be an issue, though she certainly worried about it. How could she buy the books she needed if she didn't have any money to her name?
At last, the person assigned to take her shopping arrived. It wasn't the old woman Finley had first met when she'd learned about Hogwarts. Instead, it was a man. A very tall, very broad man with a bushy beard and very odd fashion sense. He barely fit in the small office, and had to move sideways to get through the door (though even that proved challenging).
"Hello, Finley!" the man exclaimed in a booming, yet friendly voice. "Me name's Hagrid," he went on, extending a large hand in the small girl's direction.
Finley stood up and cautiously stuck out her own hand. To her surprise, Hagrid didn't crush it in a powerful handshake. Instead, he was surprisingly gentle.
Mrs. Gill, who was also in the room, stood up from her desk and studied Hagrid doubtfully. "Mr. Hagrid… you belong to this school Finley is to attend in the fall?" She thought he looked like a homeless man, though he didn't smell like someone who hadn't washed in ages.
"Yes, ma'am. The Headmistress sent me ter take Finley ter get the things she'll be needin' next term. We shouldn' be longer than a few hours."
Mrs. Gill still had her doubts, but the strange man looked harmless enough. "Very well," she said. "I expect her back in no more than three hours, Mr. Hagrid. Do you have a mobile number where I can reach you?"
"A wha'?"
"A mobile telephone," Mrs. Gill enunciated, her eyes narrowing. She was beginning to think he was a hippy who didn't believe in using modern technology.
Finley spoke up for the first time, "You know, so you can contact Mrs. Gill if we end up running late, or so that she can contact you if necessary." Finley then turned to Mrs. Gill and said, "We'll take one of your cards. I'll use a public telephone if something unexpected comes up."
Mrs. Gill seemed only marginally satisfied with the option, but she plucked a business card from a wooden holder on her desk and pressed it into Finley's hand. She also handed over a phone card she kept in her desk drawer.
"Three hours, Mr. Hagrid," Mrs. Gill reminded him.
Hagrid nodded. "Three hours, Mrs. Gill."
(Toby) Waiting for News
Author: Beck
Date: 10-19-13 12:10
Toby sat in a small room at the Ministry of Magic and waited for someone to speak with him. The room had stark white walls and only a single table and a couple of chairs. He wondered if the room was ever used for the interrogation of prisoners.
The door behind him clicked open, and Toby turned to see his brother Anthony enter. Desi Diamond was on his heels.
Anthony put a glass of water on the table, but Toby wasn't thirsty. He was more interested in the files in Desi's hand.
"Have you found anything?" he asked.
Desi shook her head. "No," she said, her own voice sounding strained. It took great composure for her to remain in the office when she would much rather be out there, tracking down whoever had taken Bronwyn.
That the aurors were dealing with a kidnapping case wasn't certain, but it was the top theory among the many hashed out during the initial investigation following Bronwyn's disappearance. She had never turned up after leaving Toby, Hunter, Desi and Orion at Emrys Fest. Bronwyn had meant to meet them at the coffee shop opposite campus at the end of the evening but had left them waiting.
After her delay became worrisome, the friends had gone back to St. Emrys to search for Bronwyn. There had been no sign of her, and no clue as to where she had gone. They checked for her at home, at the Dewhurst residence, and Desi had even gone all the way to Seattle to see if she had unexpectedly gone to visit Wolfie. It was as if Bronwyn had disappeared without a trace.
Now the aurors were working on a timeline to see who might have seen Bronwyn last and where exactly she had been before her disappearance. It involved tracking done others who had been at Emrys Fest, of which there were very many. Surely someone would have seen something helpful.
Like Desi, Toby itched to see some progress.
"One of our colleagues already went to Azkaban to talk to Nott about a Solstice Murder involvement, but he claimed not to know anything and appears to be telling the truth," Anthony said. His face became drawn as he thought of how to say the next thought on his mind.
"What? Just say it," Toby said, even though he knew he probably didn't want to hear it.
"We're pursuing whether or not there is a copycat serial killer at St. Emrys," he said. "We know Garrow was a lone wolf, but we can't rule out the possibility that someone has decided to pick up where he left off."
Desi accidentally snapped the quill she was holding in half and then tossed the pieces onto the floor. "We're going to find her, Toby, alive… and on the off chance that she's not… well, whoever hurt her is going to pay. I'll see to it personally." She had a dangerous, spontaneous look in her eye. The kind that tended to get her into trouble.
"What can I do to help?" Toby asked.
"Keep your eyes and ears open," Anthony said. "If someone has her, there's a chance you might get a ransom letter, if the motive is money. She's the wife of a professional Quidditch player, so it's not an impossible theory."
"They can have whatever they want," Toby said. "I just want my wife back in one piece."
"That's what we all want," Anthony said.
Toby let his shoulders fall, suddenly bone-weary. This wasn't Bronwyn's first unexpected absence, but that didn't make it any easier or less scary.
(Alexander) Erased Memories
Author: Mildred
Date: 10-19-13 12:13
"Mildred knows about the car," Regina said, sitting in front of her son in law.
"What do you mean? Who told her?"
The old witch looked at Alexander with disdain and superiority.
"Do think someone needed to tell her? She is intelligent, just like her mother. She found out on her own, with a little bit of help from that Muggleborn girl she spent part of the summer with. Mildred is keeping her discovery to herself, of course. But I caught her with the magazine and the photograph. She tried to hide them from me when I entered her bedroom.
I told my house elf to watch her and he reported to me saying she decided to contact with some Muggle newspaper to confirm that it was indeed that car that killed her mother. But obviously she doesn't know much about Muggles and she only leaves the house accompanied by me and so for now she has not done anything. But there are proofs she is trying to learn all about Muggle mail. I saw the way she looked at those mailboxes on the streets. Sarah used to carry the same expression on her face whenever she was up to something."
Alexander thought for a moment about all the information provided by Regina. He had made the association between his wife's death and the Sims' car when he saw the magazine cover right away. Unlike Mildred, he didn't need any proofs: Alexander was sure this had been the car that killed Sarah. When he contacted Joseph he had refused to help, but Regina had become an excellent ally and support outside of Azkaban. Alexander knew his mother in law was not doing him any favor by trying to confirm what the Sims have done. Regina's motives were simple: she wanted justice for the people who killed her daughter. But so far they haven't elaborated any plan or figure out how to proceed because they were studying all possibilities. Mildred's knowledge was an obstacle. Or maybe, an advantage.
"She was there, when the car ran over Sarah. Maybe she remembers if it was a man or a woman driving. Or maybe the car was under some spell and they were controlling it at a distance."
"Mildred doesn't remember anything, Alexander. I made sure of that."
"What do you mean?"
"I could not allow such little girl to be the witness of her mother's death. You should have seen her state when the authorities delivered her to me. There was blood in her clothes, she couldn't say a word, she only cried…I did what I thought it was best for my granddaughter: I changed her memory."
Alexander looked at Regina in shock, although he didn't know what terrified him the most: the description of Mildred after the accident or what the old witch had done to her memory. He was incredulous and he was having trouble to articulate a single word. Regina spared him and she continued:
"I am somewhat gifted with memory charms. It was a simple one, actually. I just made sure that Mildred recalled being at home with an old neighbor watching over her and then the authorities came and told her about her mother's death and how now I would have custody over her. I didn't want her to grow up with the traumatic memory of her mother dying in front of her; it is bad enough Sarah died."
"So now we will never know what exactly happened that day. What if magic was used? All the witnesses were Muggles, they wouldn't know and of course the car left right after the accident. No one found it. I wonder if the Muggle police found the car and the Sims just changed their memories. The Minister of Magic was not involved, since it was a car accident. They would have no way of knowing..."
Regina nodded.
"I am not that imprudent. I extracted Mildred's memory before modifying it. I have the original one kept safely."
"Did you see it?"
"No! I couldn't bear to see my daughter's death and Mildred's suffering. I just kept it because maybe one day my grandchild would like to see the truth. Years from now, when I'm dead. It is on my will. "
"Regina you have to see that memory. We need to know who killed Sarah. Her death was no accident…The Sims have killed her, I'm sure of it!"
"I shall think about it, but I don't promise anything. And you should not jump into conclusions right away. It does not make any sense why only after so many years they had decided to take an action against your wife. You were arrested and everyone knows Azkaban is perhaps a better punishment than death. Something is not right and maybe it is better not to start digging up the past. Because, in the end, who might end up hurt is Mildred. And she doesn't deserve that. She deserves a happy life."
And with that, she stood up and left. Alexander sighed, knowing perhaps his mother in law was right. However he doubted Regina would be able to stay still. Her daughter had been murdered and at least she would want to know who did it and why.
One More Chance
Author: Lysander Stratford
Date: 10-19-13 14:35
Lysander knelt in the window at Twice Told Tales and set up a back-to-school display with books on the various subjects taught at Hogwarts, including used copies of all the textbooks required by staff. The book shop didn't do as much back-to-school business as Flourish & Blotts in Diagon Alley, but there were plenty of students (or their parents) who took advantage of buying used instead of new since it usually saved money.
He stacked a set of O.W.L. study guides on Herbology and then got up to retrieve more books for the display, when an elderly witch stopped him and asked if he had any travel guides on Greece. Lysander showed the witch what they had in stock, though he advised her that some of the information might be dated. He left her in the stacks to decide on what she might like to get, if anything, and then returned to his work of setting up the display.
Lysander invariably thought about his own recent (second) trip to Greece, to Tegea and the temple of Zeus Teleios, where there was said to be a baetylus stone. As with all his other follow ups on rumored sites of baetylus stones, Lysander had come up empty handed and without any sort of clue on where to look next.
There was one other lead he would follow, but if it didn't pan out, then he would quit the task altogether. Even Adriana couldn't say he hadn't tried to help her. In all likelihood, the Resurrection Stone wasn't meant to be found. Voldemort wasn't meant to come back, and neither was Chyler.
Lysander should have never gotten his hopes up that his long-dead wife might return to him. The thought had lead him down a dark path once upon a time. He didn't need to make more mistakes out of foolish desperation.
Lysander realized he was brooding in the window and got off the ledge, turning his back to any onlookers on the street. A moment later, the old witch came forward with a stack of travel guides in her arms. Lysander immediately stepped behind the counter to ring up her purchase, using the task as a temporary distraction from his ever darkening thoughts.
(Beatrix) Visiting the Westwicks
Author: Griet
Date: 10-20-13 08:38
Westwick Grove was a big, old house set on a large lot. Beatrix stood on the curved, dirt driveway in front of the two-story, stone house and had little difficulty imagining what everything would have looked like a quarter century ago. Rowan had never indicated that her family had been well-to-do, not that it really mattered. The Westwicks had lost everything in the end, except for the house that had certainly seen better days.
It wasn't completely in shambles, though. With the support of the Finches, it looked clean and had seen some repairs. Even with it still being a work-in-progress, Beatrix was impressed with how everything looked.
She turned to Rowan, who stood next to her on the drive, and said, "This is your house, truly?"
"Well, technically it's my parents' house," Rowan replied, "but yes, this is where I grew up before…" She trailed off, not needing to say more.
"It's really nice. Really, really nice," Beatrix said, even as one of the window shutters fell off its hinge into the untidy bushes below.
Ash, who had been walking the grounds with Willow, limped over with a frown on his face. He picked up the shutter and examined the rotted-out wood. Beatrix watched him, admiring the way his features became serious whenever he thought deeply about something.
"Do you want to live here again?" Beatrix managed to ask Rowan, even while gazing adoringly at Ash.
"Yes," Rowan said.
Willow added, "But we can't live here until it's properly fixed up, and not without an adult either."
"So that means we either have to wait for our dad to get out of prison, or for Ash to turn 17," Rowan said, "and I wager Ash's majority will come first."
"Can't you argue that you are all technically older than 17?" Beatrix asked.
"Maybe we can," Rowan said, allowing herself a small smile, "but none of us feel 17. I wouldn't know the first thing about running a house."
Ash tucked the broken shutter under his arm and walked back to the group. When Willow inquired what he wanted with the shutter, he informed her he wished to measure it for replacements. Beatrix liked how very focused he was and found herself staring at him with a goofy smile on her face.
Rowan cleared her throat and asked, "Shall we go in?"
Willow led the way, giving Beatrix a tour of her family's house the way a docent at a home tour might. Even mostly empty, Beatrix could see how opulent the home had once been. She hoped that the Westwicks could return it to its former splendour and that she could visit them often.
At the end of the tour, the girls sat down on the floor of the living room, while Ash made mental notes of other projects he wished to attend to before term started at Hogwarts. He wandered from the room, leaving the girls to talk amongst themselves.
"Will you be able to ride with us on the train if you're a prefect?" Rowan asked, having recently learned of Beatrix's new role as fifth year prefect for Ravenclaw.
"I think so," Beatrix said. "I hope so, anyway. There's supposed to be a meeting in the beginning, but I can probably sit with you after it ends. You haven't purchased your school supplies yet, have you? We should meet up in Diagon Alley."
"Just tell us when you're going and we'll try to be there," Rowan said.
Beatrix looked at the doorway through with Ash had gone and asked, "Is he nervous about returning to Hogwarts?"
"He is, but he hasn't said much about it," Rowan said. "He won't know anybody except for us, and I'm sure he'll be a curiosity, just like we were, since he'll show up and seem new but not be sorted with the other new students."
"Too bad he's Slytherin," Beatrix said, "no offense," she added to Willow.
"None taken," Willow said, aware of Beatrix's crush on her brother and knowing she merely wished that Ash were in Ravenclaw so that they might see more of each other at school.
Ash limped back into the room and said, "I want to go to the hardware store. Do you girls want to come?"
Beatrix scrambled to her feet. "Yes, I'll come." She didn't know anything about attaching shutters to windows, but she would definitely learn if it meant working closely with Ash.
Rowan rolled her eyes and also climbed to her feet. "Sure. Willow?"
"Okay," Willow said, getting up.
The set out for the hardware store.
(Edgar) Waffles
Author: Johanna Steele
Date: 10-20-13 10:49
Edgar went downstairs, rubbing his eyes. He was still wearing his pajamas because the smell of waffles coming from the dining room was too tempting and he just felt lazy to change his clothes before eating breakfast. He wondered why Melvin, the family's house elf, had cooked waffles this morning. As far as his half sleeping brain could remember, it wasn't anyone's birthday.
As he kept walking he noticed a small pile of luggage at the entrance hall and then the sound of cheerful voices. Something was wrong. He went to the dining room and found Evelyn there with her two friends, Dinah Northington and Evinrude Walthrop.
Only then Edgar recalled that the two girls were going to spend the rest of their holidays with them. Such perspective didn't please Edgar but there was nothing he could do, since their parents had given permission to Evelyn to invite them. He had completely forgotten that Dinah and Evinrude were supposed to arrive this morning and now it made sense why Melvin had prepared them a special welcome breakfast. There was no sign of their parents and Edgar thought they might already be at work.
Evelyn was seated at the top of the table, playing the role of the perfect host. The conversation between the girls slowly died when they noticed Edgar's presence in the room. He was conscious of how bad he must look like with this bare foot, wearing an old pajama with a snitch on his chest and messy hair. Dinah presented him with a teasing smile, while Evelyn seemed horrified. Edgar could almost read her mind as she shot him a furious glance: How dare you, to appear in such a figure and ruin this welcoming meal to my friends?!
But Edgar thought that this was his house too and he had as much right as his sister to have breakfast in the dining room, and so he chose an empty seat and sat there, serving himself with a still warm waffle.
"Evinrude, can you please pass me the jar of milk?"
"Of course…"
If Edgar wasn't still a bit numb he would have noticed how Evinrude's hands shook nervously has she picked up the half-full jar with milk and gave it to him.
"Thank you."
"You're very welcome," the girl said with a smile, glad to be helpful.
For a moment no one spoke as Edgar filled his glass with milk and put some powder sugar into his waffle. But then Evelyn took command and she continued to entertain her friends and guests, ignoring his brother, almost pretending he was just part of the furniture and not really a person. Edgar did not mind at all and he didn't try to make an effort to join the conversation. Instead, he just savored the waffles, wondering what he would do today.
He had wanted to spend part of the summer with Luke, but he had gone to an expedition with his father who would be studying a group of Merpoeple at the Mediterranean Sea. Edgar had wanted to be part of it as well, but his parents thought it was too dangerous and they didn't like the idea at all. And now he was condemned to stay at home, surrounded by a group of three Slytherin girls.
Not feeling ready to face the day just yet, he served himself with another waffle. He was going to need all his strength and patience to deal with his sister Evelyn and her friends.