Silly Smiles
are Contagious
Author: Remadi Ye
Date: 05-20-03 02:39
Remadi had confidence in Annie and her chess playing ability and knew she would do well at the next match. She offered to practice with her, too.
"How was your Holiday," Annie asks. "You seem especially happy."
Remadi grins, "Well, a cute boy didn't give me any jewelry, but I had a great time."
To prove it, she takes out a little laminated card. "After flying back from New York, my father surprised me by taking me to get my restricted driver's license. I know it won't really do any good here, but it's great just to have it. I also got to participate in a fan dance that my old Chinese dancing group was putting on. It was fun to meet old friends again and help my father with Tae Kwon Do classes and just the regular stuff I used to do." Annie nods.
Remadi elaborates a little bit more on some of her activities. She wraps up her little monologue with "But I have to admit that I did miss Hogwarts." Remadi sounds a little surprised at herself with the last sentence.
She is glad that she is having lunch with Annie.
We Meet Again
Author: Bronwyn Dewhurst
Date: 05-20-03 07:56
"Maybe we can get together and chat later on if you're not too busy?" Chance suggested.
Bronwyn smiled cordially and nodded her head in agreement as she said, "Sure, that would be great."
After a few students pushed passed them to get inside the Great Hall, Bronwyn stepped through the doorway. When Chance followed suit, Bronwyn added, "I've got two classes this afternoon."
She furrowed her brow briefly and asked, "Aren't you in my Astronomy class?"
"Tonight at midnight?" Chance questioned.
"Tonight at midnight," affirmed a smiling Bronwyn. "Well, if I don't see you anytime before then, I'll see you there."
She flashed Chance another friendly smile and then started for the Hufflepuff table. Halfway there, she turned on her heel and shouted, "Oh, by the way..." She paused, waiting for Chance to turn back in her direction. "I recall your cousin's name, but I didn't know her while she was here."
Chance smiled and waved, and then continued on her path to Gryffindor table. Bronwyn, meanwhile, found a seat next to Toby and gave him a sweet peck on the cheek before diving into her lunchtime meal. They talked about everything and anything, inviting friends and family to join them as the hour progressed.
Shortly before one o'clock, Bronwyn found herself in the library again, immersing herself in her Potions textbook. She kept her eyes on her watch, reminding herself to get to Potions class ontime lest she want to feel the wrath of Professor Snape. About a quarter to two, she found herself racing out the library door -- or at least attempting to do so. It appeared that she and one other person were in a hurry to exit the library.
"Oh, Merlin's beard!" exclaimed Bronwyn, laughing hard. "I'm so sorry, Chance. Seems I keep running into you today."
Chance grinned sheepishly. "No problem. It must be one of those days."
Bronwyn nodded, and the two began to walk down the corridor. "Where are you off to?"
"DADA."
"Ooooh, with Professor Somerset," Bronwyn said slyly. "He's soooooooo hot." Then she made a sour face. "I'm off to the dungeons to see an ever-disgruntled professor."
"Good luck," Chance said, smiling.
Bronwyn shrugged her shoulders and returned the smile. "Thanks, I'll need it."
She waved goodbye when they parted at the first floor, with Chance heading off to Professor Somerset's classroom and Bronwyn continuing the trek downstairs. Upon arrival in the dungeons, Bronwyn rushed down the musty corridor and slid into the Potions classroom, where Emma was already waiting for her.
"Get any studying done?" Bronwyn asked breathlessly, as she set down her stack of books on the desk.
"Some," Emma said, grinning. "Do you think he'll give us an exam today?"
"Without a doubt!" Bronwyn exclaimed.
Always
a Drag but It Always Turns Around
Author: Kennard Philips
Date: 05-20-03 20:25
First days are always a drag. He has come to accept that fact as soon as his last class for the day ended and he and his friends dragged themselves to the common room except for Diether who still has one class left. Seeing as the common room is quite filled, they found themselves a spot and flopped themselves on the soft cushions scattered on the floor.
"What a day!" he exclaimed as he propped his head on his hands.
"Hmmm," was all the answer he got from the others as they were too tired to even open their mouths.
To keep his own energy, he just hummed a soft tune then motioned for Christina to come near him. She obliged and he let her lean on him as she hummed the tune herself. Soon, his other friends were humming, too, and they had some sort of humming contest to know who among them has the tune right. He almost forgot how tired and drained he felt.
Almost that is, because when Diether arrived, he started complaining on how the day sucked and that his brain is not yet functioning well. He was silenced though when the five of them threw pillows at him and they had all cracked up seeing his confused look.
"That's what you get for being inconsiderate of us," Mirai told him, which only confused him further for his frown only deepened, which, only made them laugh further.
"I'm glad I'm in this group," he whispered to Christa.
"Yeah," she answered. "There's always something that would cheer us up," she added with a smile.
And he smiled back in return.
Thinking and
Running into People
Author: Chance Morgan Lovell
Date: 05-21-03 08:14
It seemed I kept running into Bronwyn again and again over the course of the day...I bid her farewell for now and was on my way to DADA...I was kind of in a hurry I did not want to be late for class.
I was tired and I hadn't much felt like going to Care of Magical Creatures but I made my way down to Hagrid's hut for class...Hagrid always had some odd creature for us to look at or take care of.
~*~*~*~A while later~*~*~*~
It was now almost midnight and time to head off for Astronomy class. As much as I enjoyed astronomy I hated the late hour...I was already tired from the long first day of classes and I just wanted to go back to bed, but I slowly made my way to the astronomy tower.
I spotted Bronywn shortly after I got up to the tower and I made my way over to her and sat down. "Did you make it to Snape's class on time?" I questioned knowing how Snape could get if you were late to one of his classes.
"Yes, I made it...just barely though."
Laughing slightly I smiled at her. "Good I am glad our lil run in did not make you late...I always hate to make Snape in a worse mood than he already is." Our conversation continued quietly through Professor Sinistra's lesson. I normally did not talk during a lesson but I could not help it, it was so late and I just wanted to go back to bed. I mean and who could hardly not talk to the person you had run into 3 or 4 times in one day. We talked about our cats...Seems we both have cats, Mittens my cat. She was curled up on my bed up in Gryffindor tower...(where I wanted to be). Bronwyn had left her cat at home...her mother just loved the cat so much she could not bare to have her go off to school with Bronwyn.
*~*~*~*~Tuesday*~*~*~*
Well here it is the second day of classes and my first class of the morning is Charms with Prof. Flitwick. Charms is my easiest class and I am pretty sure even with the new term that won't change.
I could not concentrate on the lesson was a little upset because I got an Owl from my cousin Casey yesterday...
January 6th, 1997
Dear Mopsey,
Hello my dear cousin. I have missed you a lot. It sounds as though you have had an interesting vacation. Now you are back at school how are things so far? Have you seen Vincent Triegher yet? I know just how much you like him. When I was still there you talked about him nonstop. Are you still talking about him to anyone who will listen? Do tell me all when you write me back. You have a couple classes with him don't you?
Yes I know what you mean. It was so strange being away from you and your Mum and Dad for the holidays. Mum and Dad were quite dismayed that we were not able to make it for Christmas...but they were both so busy with work that they just could not take the time off. I missed you so much.
I agree, our Dad's have become close before we moved...It was great...and you're probably right. It was probably their shared hate of Aunt Aggie. Speaking of her, that is the only reason I am glad I was not there for Christmas.
Oh, yeah. I talked to Mum and Dad and they are not sure when we will be able to come back home to England. They are both so busy with work...but Dad said summer does not look good. I miss you so much it is killing me being away from you. You're my best friend. Maybe they will let me come stay with you...I will have to talk to them and we will see.
Well my dear Mopsey I need to jet. I have class in a few...so I will talk with you later. I hope to hear from you soon.
All my love,
Your cousin Flopsey
I was so caught up in thinking about Casey and the fact that it looked like it would be a long time before I got to see her again that I walked right into Vincent Triegher. I was so embarrassed I did not know what to say to him...I blushed a brilliant shade of pink and stammered and stuttered for something to say to him to break the awkward silence.
*Mopsey=Chance
*Flopsey=Casey
Tuesday Morning
Author: Isolde
Date: 05-21-03 13:53
Professor McGonagall turned away from the blackboard and carefully placed a very worn-down piece of white chalk onto the surface of her desk. She stated firmly, "I want you all to read chapter twelve of your text," as she thumbed through the open book on her lectern. Stern eyes raised to meet the faces of the Slytherin and Hufflepuff fifth years in the classroom. "We will discuss what you have learned on Thursday morning. Class dismissed."
Isolde grabbed her textbook and parchments and pulled them to her chest, waiting for Pyrrhus and Alexis to gather their own school supplies and walk with her out the door. None of the three had another class until Potions in the afternoon.
Rather quietly, the three friends marched down the corridor, descended the stairs and made their way to the dungeons, eager to steal away into the common room and to find some secluded seats in a darkened corner.
All three felt a little glum, some more so than others. They missed Azaelia's presence terribly; it was strange not having her around anymore. Maybe they'd get used to it in time. Pyrrhus had reassured Isolde often that the feelings of loneliness would fade to something more bearable someday in the future, but Azaelia's cousin didn't think that day would ever arrive.
On top of Azaelia's absence, the loss of Mrs. Stratford was a dreadful blow to many Slytherins, especially Isolde, Pyrrhus and Alexis. Isolde had cried when she heard the news, and as if Mrs. Stratford's death wasn't enough, her unborn child had perished as well. Isolde wanted to do something for Mr. Stratford...flowers, maybe. Did he even like flowers? He would probably appreciate the gesture, though nothing would ever make up for nor ease the pain of Chyler Stratford's death.
Only one thing kept the three Slytherins from total despair, and that was Alexis' report on her dealings with the voodoo Mary doll Pyrrhus had given her for Christmas. She had relayed her success in making her younger sister's holiday perfectly disappointing, which garnered a small smile from Isolde and a hearty congratulations from Pyrrhus. At least something had gone right this winter.
All Mixed
Up
Author: Jet
Date: 05-21-03 14:07
Scowling at the thought of spending the next hour in Herbology when that perfectly good time could be spent doing any number of other things, such as finding another unsuspecting first or second year to lure into his private room to experiment on, Jet shuffles out of Transfiguration. Jet's head is bent slightly as if there's something intensely interesting on the floor. As a result, he doesn't see the person trying to get around him in the press of students, some trying to leave the classroom and others trying to enter.
They go down in a tangle of arms, legs, and spilled book bags. Always quick to openly display all the qualities of a Hufflepuff when so many are around to witness his behavior, especially a teacher, Jet gives a sheepish grin and what sounds to be a sincere apology.
"I'm really sorry. Wasn't looking where I was going though I know I should when so many are trying to enter and leave through the same doorway at the same time."
Jet gets up and extends a hand to the girl. As he pulls her up, he continues speaking. "Say, I've not seen you around before. If this were an elective class I'd just chalk it up to a change in your schedule but since it's not, I guess you're new, huh? I'm Jet. Jet Obsidian. In Hufflepuff. Fifth year."
The girl smiles shyly, bending to help pick up the scattered books, parchments and other assorted items from the book bags. "Yes, I'm new. Yesterday was my first day of classes. My name's Emma Crusher. I'm a fourth, Ravenclaw."
Jet bids her welcome and goodbye, saying he was going to be late for Herbology. He took off at a near run only to realize he had the wrong book bag. He makes a sharp U-turn while cursing under his breath and races back to the Transfiguration classroom, hoping to reach it before Professor McGonagall starts the lesson.
Jet pokes his head in and not seeing McGonagall anywhere, locates Emma and in a loud whisper calls out, "Pssst! Emma! We mixed up the book bags."
1, 2, 3,
4, 5, 6, Switch
Author: Emma Crusher
Date: 05-21-03 15:04
"Pssst! Emma! We mixed up the book bags." came the quiet voice from the door. The girl in question looked down at her bag or, more precisely, the bag she thought was hers.
"Oh!" she said and took it over to the door. Emma handed Jet the book bag and took her own. "Thank you," she said, turning back to her desk.
"No problem," he said smiling in that helpful, Hufflepuff way. He was gone before she could reply, racing towards the greenhouses in the hope that he wouldn't be too late for class.
As soon as she sat down again, class began. She listened half-heartedly to the lesson, which was a review of the things they'd accomplished before Christmas.
That's the second time I've run into somebody, she thought. I really should start watching where I'm going from now on.
Road Trip
Author: Blossom
Date: 05-21-03 16:01
Blossom embraces Fred in a tight, heartfelt hug. He moves slightly without breaking the hug to kiss Blossom slowly, passionately. Both ignore George at the front of the store making mock noises of disgust in between laughingly saying such things as, "Don't stand so close to that display. The heat you two are putting off will ignite it!!" and "Oy! This is a place of business. Get a room!"
Fred takes a step back so he can look Blossom in the eyes. "I've told you a dozen times already that George can handle things here. Hell, he offered even before I mentioned to you he could get by without me for a bit. I'd really like to go with you if you want. I've got packed bags in the office."
"I'd love for you to come, Fred. I just don't want to impose on you or put you and George in a bind here at work."
"You have the first real lead on where your father's located plus you think your grandfather will show up again at any time to try and force you to go back with him. I want to help you find your father and I think you need someone with you in case your grandfather does try something. But more than that, I want to be with you."
Fred reassuringly squeezes Blossom's hands as she considers his words. Both the look on his face and the tone in his voice are earnest, sincere, and, most importantly, full of love. Blossom slowly nods then closes the gap between them and once again enjoys the feel of Fred's lips on hers.
A moment later Fred goes into the office to retrieve his things and Blossom walks to the front of the store to thank George. Fred puts his bags with Blossom's and shrinks everything down to a manageable size for traveling. By that time George and Blossom have joined him. Fred gives George a hug, pounding him on the back while profusely thanking him. Blossom steps over to give George a much more gentle hug and a peck on the cheek. With a wave and a POP the two are gone, leaving George to run things alone for awhile.
Transformation:
Mountains into Molehills
Author: Albus Dumbledore
Date: 05-21-03 18:31
I contemplate my desktop over the rim of a steaming cup of herbal tea. Thanks to Poppy Pomfrey, I am feeling somewhat better already. Five days at the International Wizard's Convention have worn me down and now I am paying the price. Why anyone would schedule a mid-winter convention in a northern city is beyond my simple reasoning. Cold and damp... rain alternating with snow... draughts and chills... and now I am suffering mightily with a common cold. Another violent sneeze erupts, caught barely in time by my large linen kerchief. Carefully, I blow my red and tender nose, then "Refreshio" the kerchief before tucking it away in my sleeve.
I examine the piles of notes on my desk... all three of them. Fortunately, the largest stack has a heavy brass paperweight on the top, which is marked "DONE". The smallest pile, marked "TO-DO" contains a single scroll. Unopened, it is sealed with a special blue wax which will respond only to members of The Old Crowd. The third pile is the Wizarding equivalent of junk mail, consisting of special offers on second-hand wands, elixirs which promote healthy hair and beards, special charms to eliminate stains from robes and other garments and the ever-popular "Handi-Mop", guaranteed to pick up the nastiest of spills with a single stroke. These I gather and walk to the fireplace, where I slowly feed them to the hungry flames. I love to listen as they catch fire and gasp out a final, "But WAIT! That's not ALL!..."
Returning to my desk, I sift through the "DONE" pile. Minerva has thankfully taken care of everything in my brief absence. Most are invoices for goods delivered or services rendered. These are but copies, the originals having been forwarded to the Ministry of Magical Education for proper payment. Several sheets are fastened together, the top one being a hastily scribbled note from Professor Trelawney, requesting an urgent need for sabbatical. The second page is an explanation of the circumstances, in Minerva's fine hand and her trademark green ink. I have a good laugh over the part about Sybil going off to seek spiritual sustenance from her Swami! Well! One never knows! Perhaps this will be her third correct prophecy? The next several pages are correspondence between Minerva and one Saffron Sacheverell, who has been given a temporary position as Instructor in Divination! "Hmmph!" I mumble to myself. "It will be a permanent change as far as I am concerned!"
A second cluster of notes involves the apparent disappearance of Professor Fairchild. Seemingly, she has been neither seen nor heard from since the Weasley Wedding fiasco. Our newest staff member, according to Minerva and pending my approval, is a Miss Trisha Spencer. Well, I can take care of that. With a broad black quill, I pen the word APPROVED! to the bottom of her application, and sign my name with a flourish. I shall go around to the classrooms later today and meet my newest staff members.
Now, for the last message! Taking a small, innocent-looking, brown stone from my robes, I pass it over the seal while reciting the proper incantation. The blue wax parts with an audible "POP" and the small scroll unrolls onto the desktop. The parchment contains a series of unintelligible wriggles and squiggles. I pass the stone over the surface of the "letters" and they quickly rearrange themselves.
Dumbledore, Beware!
You have a spy in your midst!
Take precautions!
Watch for my signal.
Tuesday night.
Fletcher
What, I wonder, has been going on in my absence? Mundungus is not a man to go jumping at shadows. Well! I suppose I will have to wait for tonight to see what he has found out. I take this last message to the fire and watch as the bright tongues devour it, then carefully stir the ashes to ensure it cannot be reconstructed. I finish my tea as I file away the various records, then prepare to take a walk about the halls of Hogwarts.
Memory
Author: Lysander Stratford
Date: 05-21-03 21:18
Lysander sat on the edge of his bed, simply staring at where her sleeping form should have been. Nothing looked the way it had when she was still alive; brunette curls weren't spread about the pillow, ivory skin didn't glow warmly against the burgundy comforter. He could picture her so perfectly in his mind, for he had often watched her while she slept, but despite his vivid memory, all he could see with his eyes was the bare space next to him.
He still couldn't believe she was gone.
They had buried her at the little cemetery in Hogsmeade on Saturday, the fourth of January. Several had come to pay their respects, from local merchants to friends and family. Chyler's brother, Michael, whom neither Julian nor Lysander had ever been able to tolerate, suddenly hadn't seemed so insufferable. During times of grief, even the worst of enemies can put hostilities aside out of respect for someone's loss.
Lysander gently leaned forward over Chyler's side of the bed and closed his eyes, imagining her scent. She had always used a floral-fragranced shampoo for her hair, partly because she liked it herself and partly because she knew Lysander loved it. He had often spent nights cradling her in his arms with his nose buried within her dark curls, inhaling the essence of fresh flower petals.
Gently, Lysander placed his cheek on the pillow, exhaling solemnly as he did so. "Why did she have to leave me?" he breathed aloud.
"Lysander." A low voice cut through the otherwise silence of the room. "Why don't you come to Briar's with me? We can get some lunch."
Lysander opened his eyes and raised his head, running a shaky hand through his dark hair. "I'm not very hungry, Julian," and when he caught the look of concern in Julian's eye he added, "I'll come visit later. I think I'm going to visit Chyler––Chyler's grave...for a few minutes."
"Want me to come along?" Julian asked.
Climbing to his feet, Lysander reached for his coat, which was draped over the back of a chair in the room. "You don't have to," he said.
"May I?"
Lysander paused mid-button and raked his eyes over his best friend's face. He knew that Julian had been hurting, too, but Lysander had been so preoccupied with his own sadness and pain that he hadn't really noticed Julian's suffering. Julian had been like a brother to Chyler, probably more so than Michael Thomason had ever been. He would have been a proud uncle, had Chyler and the baby survived.
Crossing the room, Lysander placed a steady hand on Julian's shoulder and said, "Of course. I'd be glad if you'd join me."
