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A Quidditch Fantasy Camp
Author: Viktor Krum
Date: 09-07-14 13:45
Settling into a canvas chair on the sidelines, broom still in hand, Viktor brushes his other hand across his forehead. A cup of water appears in his field of vision. He leans forward to accept, simultaneously placing his broom on the ground. "Thank you."
Zuberi grins. "You're so sweaty when you're in the air for anyone below it has to be like standing underneath a shower."
"You are changing from architecture to comedy?"
Zuberi's response is a chuckle. After taking a sip of his own water he asks, "How's it going?"
"They are having a good time. That's what counts."
They are the group of mostly retired men and women participating in a fantasy camp. The professional players taking part include Hogsmeade Humbatas, Chudley Cannons, Kenmare Kestrals, and Appleby Arrows. A number of such camps, some with the Humbatas and some not, are scheduled in the Humbatas stadium throughout the summer and even into very early fall.
Viktor drains his cup and sets it on the ground by his broom. "You're back early."
"Combination of really bad weather and a band of rebels skirmishing near enough to the compound that Joseph decided any work done should be inside. He doesn't want to chance something drawing Muggle attention. The protective charms are in place but with another flare up of the fighting he doesn't want to take any risks. Since I was coming back tomorrow anyway I decided to come on home."
"See Olive."
"Why would I want to see Olive?" Zuberi asks overly put on mock innocence.
"I'm surprised you came here instead of going straight to see her."
"I wanted to clean up first."
"You already talked to her, haven't you?"
"Fire chat. We're getting together in about an hour. She's meeting me here."
"I feel so honored," Viktor says with amusement. He slaps a palm to his forehead. "You need money."
Zuberi laughs loudly enough a couple of people in the air turn to look down at the two men. "No, but if you're offering I no fool to turn it down."
Viktor chuckles now as well. "If you do need any, you know where there's some at the house."
"Other than the couch cushions, yes."
Viktor reaches over to lightly slap Zuberi on the head. Zuberi makes a face, ducking out of reach of Viktor's attempt to repeat the light tap. Eyeing what's going on overhead, Viktor reaches for his broom and pushes up from the chair. "Break's over. If I don't talk to you again before you leave for your date, have a good time."
With Zuberi still snickering a little, Viktor takes back to the air, his attention fully back on participating with the fantasy campers, though Zuberi, and Marjani for that matter, are never far from his thoughts.
(Mark) Potential
Author: Isolde
Date: 09-07-14 14:38
On the corner of Shaftesbury Avenue and Dean Street was a wizarding flat hidden among the Muggle buildings there. It was within walking distance of some of the wizarding restaurants in Soho and not much further to Chinatown and Piccadilly Circus. Out of all the residences Mark had seen, he liked it the best. Not only was it centrally located, but it was off the beaten path just enough to garner him and Capri the privacy they needed.
Since leaving Hogwarts Mark had been staying with his father. It hadn't been as wearisome as he feared, but now that Mark was fully grown, he longed to get out from underneath his father's roof. Unfortunately, he still didn't have a job. He had interviewed for two departments at the Ministry of Magic and felt he had done well both times, but nobody had contacted him yet one way or the other. It was a trifle frustrating.
At least Capri had work. Mark could tell that she really enjoyed it. She came home everyday with a smile and never seemed to mind when she had to take her work home with her. Her only complaint was her boss, whose behavior seemed to border on the inappropriate. So far it was only words. It still wasn't okay, but Capri didn't want to do anything about it. Mark didn't like it one bit but so far he respected her opinion to let it slide.
He arrived outside her building with a flyer in hand regarding the flat in Soho. He wanted Capri to see the flat before somebody else snatched it up. Her shift was nearly over, so he thought they could view the place and then grab a bite to eat in one of the restaurants in the area.
After he checked in with reception, Mark went into the staff area where Capri's desk was located. He found her on her hands and knees, picking up the pages of a manuscript that she had dropped onto the floor. Across the room, Capri's boss stood with a thermos in hand and stared at her butt.
Mark got angry and started to cross over to where he stood, thinking he'd start by knocking the thermos right out of his hand, but then Capri was up on her feet and calling to him.
He reluctantly altered his course and went to her side. "Hey. You ready to get out of here?"
"Yes, just about. Let me just put this away and we can head out," she said, straightening the parchments in her hands.
A few minutes later she was ready to go. Mark handed her the flyer and said, "I think I found us a place. Want to see?"
"Of course! What are we waiting for?"
With a grin, Mark took her by the hand and led her to what might become their new home.
(Adriana) Madness
Author: Bill Weasley
Date: 09-07-14 16:42
For days after Ivanova's death, Adriana sequestered herself in her study and mourned. She did not realize how much she had come to rely on the first Death Eater to answer her summons a mere two years ago. Ivanova had been her right hand man, an extension of herself. His absence left a big gaping hole, was an unexpected amputation.
When she finally recovered enough to function somewhat properly, she stole to the crypt underground where she kept her treasures. She glided past the sword taken from the Fox house and the statuette of Circe pilfered from a Muggle museum and then stopped in front of the body of Berthold Beatenberg. It lay under a clear shroud and was magically charmed to prevent it from decomposing and stinking up the place.
At rest, Beatenberg looked peaceful. Adriana stared down into the face that should have been heavy with lines but wasn't thanks to the curse that had kept him away from a life that would have otherwise progressed normally. The more Adriana stared at him, the more angry she became. He should not be at peace, not even in death!
Her eyes darted to the green spindly hands resting by his sides. In one fluid movement she pulled the shroud away and produced her wand. She flicked it first at one wrist and then at the other, severing the dead hands from the dead arms.
"My Lady?"
Adriana let out a gasp of surprise. She'd been so wrapped up in mutilating Beatenberg that she'd not noticed Nicolas Blackthorn standing halfway down the stone staircase. He looked at her with concern evident on his handsome face.
It had been days and days since she'd spoken to anyone. She felt agitation and excitement all at once, and unable to control herself, she burst forth with unrestricted speech.
"Blackthorn!" she exclaimed, flicking her wand again so that both of the green hands levitated and seemed to dance comically in the air. "I want you to send the Ministry of Magic a gift! No note is necessary… They can guess where it came from, but I think they will be pleased!" She laughed maniacally. "I did them a favor. I got this bastard out of their hair! They can't say I never did anything for them!"
Nicolas furrowed his brow even more. "Yes, my Lady… the hands?"
"No!" Adriana exclaimed. "Those are MY gift to ME!" She threw her arm down, as if she might throw her wand to the floor, but instead the hands went flying across the air, up the stairs and dangerously close to Nicolas himself. They disappeared from sight and eventually landed on her desk to be mounted next to the blackened hands already on her wall.
Nicolas frowned slightly. "The body?"
"Yes, dump it in the Atrium for all to see. Make sure to do it during a busy time! I want screams and panic..."
Eleanor Blackthorn appeared at the top of the stairs. "We have a visitor…"
Nicolas looked up at his wife and shook his head. "She's unwell. It's not a good time."
Eleanor looked past her husband at Adriana, who was laughing silently to herself. Just as quickly, the laughter turned to tears. Adriana covered her face with her hands and cried, but then that feeling also passed.
She saw the Blackthorns staring at her with worry and spat, "What?"
"You need rest, my Lady," Eleanor started, but Adriana dismissed her words with a wave of her hand.
"I'm fine," she insisted. "Do as I say and deliver him to the Ministry," she said, jerking her thumb at Beatenberg's body. "I don't want him here anymore."
Nicolas and Eleanor nodded and came down to collect the body. "There's a witch upstairs. She found me when I was in Wiltshire and asked for me to bring her to you," explained Eleanor. "I almost didn't, but she claims to be Ivanova's sister."
That got Adriana's attention. "I will see her. In the meantime, get him gone."
"Yes, my Lady," said the Blackthorns in unison.
(Cornelia) Helping
Author: Griet
Date: 09-08-14 18:17
Cornelia grabbed a handful of clothing from the closet and laid them out on Griet's bed. Packing the wizarding way didn't have to be so very time-consuming, but some things needed looking-over to see if they were worth keeping. The two sisters had never shared clothes, but already Cornelia saw some things she liked.
Griet came into the bedroom with a suitcase rolling behind her and remarked, "The silver cardigan with the front clasp came from Tucker. You can have it if you want."
"You won't tear it off me in a fit of rage if you see me wearing it, will you?"
Griet offered her sister a small smile and said, "I can't make you any promises, but it seems unlikely."
"I'll think about it, then." Cornelia took the cardigan in question, folded it, and set it to the side, while Griet put the suitcase on the bed and opened it up. Rather than work on packing something else, Griet sat down in her green papasan chair and sighed.
Cornelia ignored her for a while.
When Griet sighed for what must have been the fiftieth time, Cornelia looked over at her and exclaimed, "I thought you said you were over him."
"I am. I'm so over him," Griet affirmed, "but that doesn't mean I'm not hurt or heartbroken."
Although Griet had confronted Tucker ages ago about his infidelity, she'd not had much time to empty out her flat because of her own busy work schedule. As difficult as it was not to think about him kissing Kelly, Griet had tried hard to focus on her new job. Mourning her failed relationship was something she saved for after-hours.
Cornelia stopped putting things into the suitcase and sat down on an empty space on the bed. "It probably doesn't help that he's trying to get you back."
Tucker had begged Griet to reconsider, claiming Kelly meant nothing to him, but Griet refused to give in. He had done something unforgivable. She could never take him back.
"Which is why I can't stay here anymore. This is his building, and he has a key to this flat. I know he won't use it… well," Griet amended, thinking she had never seen his betrayal coming so maybe Tucker would use his ownership privileges to enter her space without permission. "Maybe he would, but I hope he doesn't."
"I'm sure you don't want to stay with Mum and Dad forever though."
"You are so right about that," Griet said, "but as for my little condition, I don't have anywhere else to go right now."
The next full moon was just days away. Normally she would have spent it in the basement with Tucker, but there was no way in hell she would get naked and lock herself up in a cell with him after what he'd done. Instead, she'd have to settle for being confined in her parents' house, as she had done all those summers and holidays before moving into her flat.
"After you get over your monthly affliction, we should go look for a new place. Maybe we can get a two-bedroom. Me and Cassander in one, you in the other. We can save money that way."
Griet made a face. "Sorry if I don't want to hear the sex-capades coming from your room."
"That's what sound-proofing charms are for. Believe me, I'm the expert at using them." Cornelia grinned. "How many times do you think Mum and Dad were blissfully unaware of what was happening right under their roof?"
Griet laughed. "You are so bad… and desperate."
"Hey!"
"Why would you want to do anything with them in the other room? There's nothing romantic about that at all."
"What can I say? Cassander and I can't keep our hands off of each other."
"Obviously."
Cornelia's smile slipped and she asked, "Have you realized that you have poor taste in men?"
"Yes, I am keenly aware of that fact," Griet replied, no longer smiling either. "How is it that both of my ex-boyfriends ended up with Blakely girls?"
"Be glad there's only two, though I suppose Morgan could turn the other way and nab the next guy who takes your fancy."
"And now I will always worry about that," Griet said, somewhat jokingly.
"Come on. We better get back to work. You don't want to be here any longer than you have to be."
"You're right," Griet said, clapping her hands onto her knees before standing back up.
Cornelia hopped off the bed and went back into the closet to grab another armful of clothes. Some went into the suitcase, some onto Cornelia's pile. They made quick work of emptying the closet and then tackled another part of the bedroom.
I Should Care Because?
Author: Griffin Price
Date: 09-08-14 18:28
Rather than a small visitation room Griffin is shown into a larger one. There are small tables lined in neat rows, some empty, others with an Azkabanian with one or two visitors. Jacob LaBranche is being ushered in from one doorway as Griff comes through the opposite door.
Griff pauses for a brief second, exhaling a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. He has no idea why he agreed to come when the request arrived. He has no desire to see his uncle, at least not a conscious desire. Moving again to the table where Jacob has taken a seat Griff stops stalling, wanting to get this over with. Reaching the table, he sits, without preamble in a flat voice saying, "What?"
"Hello to you too."
Griff raises his eyesbrows, eyes going wider in question but doesn't bother repeating his question.
"Notice anything different about me?"
Griff starts to say that Jacob is looking a little haggard but goes with, "You're thinner."
Jacob taps the hairline near his temple. "A touch grayer. A tiny bit aged from when you last saw me."
Griff shrugs. "I put it down to the effects of life in prison."
"For many, that would be true."
"The potion. You should look relatively the same."
"Some weight lost from the lack of good food; but, yes, otherwise much the same. Exactly the same even."
"The potion finally starting to wear off it is? You want me to retrieve your stash so you can take more?" Griffin's voice grows angrier with every word, rising without realizing it from the chair in preparation of leaving.
"I'm dying."
Griff looks down at his uncle. "Dying?"
"A form of cancer that hasn't been responding to treatment. It won't be long before I'm transferred to a secure ward at St. Mungo's."
He sits back down. "I should care because?"
"It would be nice if one of my only two living relatives "
"Whose fault is that?"
"expressed sadness at my upcoming demise but even I know that's hardly likely. I wanted to tell you myself while I'm capable so I could also give you this." Jacob takes out an envelope and slides it across the table.
"Last will and testament?"
"Something like that. There's authorization there for you to access my funds so that you aren't stuck paying for a funeral with your own galleons and so I don't end up in a pauper's grave if you weren't willing to handle matters otherwise. There's information on where I'd like to be buried, though I suppose I can't expect you to care or bother. Lastly, there are the documents needed for all I own to go to you, including a second vault that holds items you will surely find disagreeable."
"Like what's left of the potion."
"Yes."
When Griff doesn't respond or react Jacob says, "Better you than someone like me."
Tucking the envelope into a pocket, Griff once again stands. "Thank you hardly seems appropriate. I'd be lying to say I'm sorry for your news so I won't say that either."
Griff also doesn't say goodbye. He simply turns and walks off, not even bothering to tell Jacob to have him notified when the move to St. Mungo's takes place.
He leaves Azkaban to return to making an attempt to track Berthold Beatenberg's movements. The elderly wizard's body has been unceremoniously dumped in the Ministry Atrium recently. Though the most recent reports of the man had him with some sort of spindly green fingers, the body was once again lacking hands. Beatenberg had been checked for cause of death, a theory being with his age he'd had a stroke or heart attack. With the killing curse pegged as the culprit, the cause of death is officially homicide. With no leads to speak of, Griff hasn't made much progress in figuring out where Beatenberg has been, what became of the odd hands he allegedly had gained and then lost, and who killed him.
Between the frustration of this particular case and of meeting with Jacob today, Griff is very glad he has time with Tristan this afternoon for his son to get in more practice on his little broom. That and a family dinner with some sort of board game with Tristan and Carys tonight has him wishing his work day was closer to an end.
Proud
Author: Johanna Steele
Date: 09-09-14 08:06
It was early in the morning and Johanna left her parents' house in Surrey, in order to go to work. Since the house was located in a Muggle residential area, the Steeles fireplace was not connected to the Floo Network, so she used apparition to travel to the Royal Museum of Magic. She would walk down the lane to a quiet alley that had nothing but trash cans and she would disaparate there, after making sure no one was passing by.
She walked by the Lings' house and she was surprised to see Eric Ling standing there, mowing the front lawn. Despite the early hour the sun was strong and the physical work had made him take off his t-shirt that was abandoned on the door steps. Johanna recognized the Gryffindor's lion on it but her eyes did not stay long on Eric's clothing. Unfortunately they moved right back to his chest and she had to admit she liked what she was seeing.
"Good morning," Eric greeted.
Despite being at the same year at Hogwarts they were not friends and they rarely exchanged a word with each other when at school. Maybe because they had been sorted into different houses and had different groups of friends and different interests. But when forced to spend the summer at their homes in the Muggle world, a strange bound was formed and they would talk to each other as if they were close.
"Hello, Eric. How come you don't use magic to do that?"
"I needed to do some exercise, to keep in shape. And according to my mother, I have better things to do than stay in bed all morning. She likes when I get myself useful. You are really fancy wearing those robes. Where are you going?"
"To work. It's an internship at the Royal Museum of Magic. It's not as glamorous as it seems. I have been spending my days at a desk, selling tickets or telling people where the bathroom is."
Eric grinned.
"I'm sure eventually you'll get promoted. Probably they're just testing you; see if you're a skilled hardworking witch."
Johanna thanked Eric for his vote of confidence. She wanted to continue talking to him but she had to hurry or she would be late for work. They said goodbye to each other and he told her he would pay a visit to the museum one of these days when he felt bored and maybe they could have lunch together. She didn't take him serious.
*
The atrium of the museum was very quiet and the only person there was a security named Arthur. Johanna occupied her usual place at the front desk and she consulted a scroll where she had written down a few sentences written in Spanish, French and Italian. The museum had many foreign tourists and at times they could not express themselves in English and it was her job to aid them when buying their tickets, or providing them with the information they needed.
So far she was enjoying her internship but she wished she would be doing something more related to History of Magic. She thought about Eric's words and she hoped he was right and that eventually she would be called to do more important tasks than being at a desk. She wondered if revealing that she had been nominated Head Girl at Hogwarts would open some doors to her. It had been a surprise when she received the badge and it had been with delight that she had pinned it to her robes, just to see how it looked like. Her parents couldn't be more proud of her. She couldn't help herself to write the news to all her friends and she was happy to discover that Felicia had been chosen to take her place as the Slytherin seventh year prefect. It would be good for her to have a new occupation now that Baltus wasn't around and being a prefect was just the right thing to put Felicia out of her misery.
As Arthur opened the museum's front door and the first visitors climbed the stairs, Johanna decided to discard the idea of boasting around about her Head Girl nomination. She was very proud of her accomplishments but she didn't want to sound petulant or irritating. Just like her newest position at Hogwarts she should conquer a better position in the museum by working hard and be good in all the tasks given to her. And so she put on her best smile and welcomed an Italian couple into the Royal Museum of Magic, ready to receive their money and give them their tickets in return.
(Orion's Flat, London) A Request He Can't Deny
Author: Orion Howell
Date: 09-09-14 14:34
Orion eyed the pile of folders he'd spent months putting together. His parents and brothers had left a sizeable inheritance behind, and he'd immediately put most of it into a trust for Sagitta. But there was still work to be done in managing it, and it was best he do that when not actively teaching at St. Emrys.
So he'd made few plans for the summer, hoping to get through some of the crazy amount of paperwork her inheritance generated. Plus, he didn't really know anywhere he wanted to go, and his niece was happiest if she got to go shopping with Bronwyn a few times and spent time with Remedy and Crew.
"Uncle Orion?" the petite redhead asked, twirling a corkscrew curl around her finger.
"Yes?" he answered, turning to look at his niece.
"Are we going to Emrys fest this year?"
"I don't know yet. Do you want to go?" he asked. Memories played in his head from the year before, when he and Desi hadn't quite been he and Desi yet. He stilled owed Drive for that black eye...
"I think so. Remedy and I were talking and some of the bands are pretty good. I don't know if I like all of them though."
"I'd worry if you did, kiddo," Orion said with a grin. "I'll see if I can get tickets for the two of us and Remedy, then Jeff can work if he has to."
Sagitta beamed and threw her arms around him. "Thanks, Uncle Orion. You're the bestest!"
He laughed. "Alright, off with you. Go through your closet and pull out anything that's too small, please. If you want to go shopping with Bronwyn this summer, you need space for the new clothes."
She grinned and bounced off to her room to do as he asked. The promise of new clothes made her want to get it done.
Stress Relief
Author: Driver Morgan
Date: 09-09-14 18:42
Fletcher wiped a trail of sweat from his forehead with the back of his gloved hand just seconds before a punch flew right for his face.
"Smooth move, old man!" Driver teased his slightly older brother who dodged the jab.
Etch just shook his head, "I'm not old, Drive. You used to say that when we would spar with Dad. I am surprised you asked me, why aren't you taking out your frustrations on your friend?"
Driver looked up with a sly grin, "Because he is more likely to kick my ass than you are, as far as boxing goes."
"Yes, but you like that!" Fletcher's retort was met with a swift punch to his nose, which left a trickle of blood running out. He just shook it off and stopped to grab a drink. "How is everything going with the bar, and those classes?" Etch asked, to change the subject.
"Well it is summer, no classes, so I'll try to spend some more time at the bar." Driver said as he leaned against the wall.
Fletcher just shook his head, "Driver, you need down time, from what I've seen the bar is just fine if you aren't there all the time."
Driver took offense to that, "Fletcher, I helped build that bar, took it over when the owner died."
"D, I remember all the details. I just want you to relax, spend time with people you love."
"I know, I do what I can, I spend most of my free time with Orion, and I'm fine with that. We can't all be professional Quidditch players with a wife and two kids you know." His tone was teasing, but there was something else there, something even Driver didn't quite realize. Fletcher was about to say something, but Driver cut him off, "Etch, I'm happy right now, and my personal life is really none of your business." He pulled his gloves back on, a silent challenge to his brother.
"I need a break Driver." Etch said as he tossed his gloves aside and took a seat.
"Alright." The younger man relented and joined his brother on the bench. "How are Mom and Dad?"
Fletcher frowned, "Mom's been more depressed since the girls went back to their mom."
"Wait, I thought they still had all three of them?"
"No, she took 'em back, and I'm not sure that was the best decision."
"For Mom and Dad or her?"
"For the girls mostly, those kids were doing pretty well coping with their grandparents."
Driver nodded, not really sure what they could do about the situation. "I guess we could see what could be done to help everyone in this situation. I can ask around?"
Fletcher sighed and stood again, gathering his gear. "Yeah, that would be good Driver. Oh, tell Orion he needs to come to dinner at our place one day this week, Fallon would love to see you both, and Crew has been itching to see Sagitta."
Fletcher said with a grin, he knew his eldest son was excited his friends were home from school for the summer, and was already waiting to start at Hogwarts in the fall.
"I'll let him know you offered."
"See you soon, Driver. Go see Mom and Dad too, they get worried when you hide out. Get some rest too, don't make me stun you to sleep."
"Yes Sir." Driver laughed as he apparated home to the bar.