Dinner Party
Author: Lucius Malfoy
Date: 08-25-03 21:00
Lucius's upper lip curls into a sneer as he gazes around at the room crowded with people sipping cocktails. When Fudge had issued the dinner invitation, the man had said it would be a cozy little affair of no more than eight or ten. Either the man cannot count or his idea of ten is something vastly different from both the Malfoys. There are at least a hundred and fifty people spread throughout several rooms and the backyard. There might even be closer to two hundred and fifty but with everyone scattered about, it's difficult for Lucius to get an exact count.
There are some in attendance who definitely need to be at a larger party such as this has turned out to be. But... Lucius sneers again... some are too far beneath the Fudge's social circle to have been invited and if they are below the Fudge's socially they are definitely below the Malfoys.
Lucius's gaze falls on a woman on the far side of the room, her head bent close to someone whose back is to Lucius. Not only is that one in a social circle as far removed from the Malfoy's as Pluto's orbit is from the Sun, but she has an annoying habit of sticking her nose in wherever she wants, using her position as Head Auror as an excuse to do it. What a shame she escaped before a certain great dark arts wizard could slay her in some horribly slow and painful manner.
Turning so that pest isn't in his line of view anymore, Lucius rolls his eyes after they come to rest on another Ministry buffoon. The man, who works in one of the departments dealing with foreign affairs, is already drunk and making one social gaffe after another. The man's boss should stop the oaf before he makes a political blunder around one of the foreign diplomats.
Spinning on his heel, Lucius says in a loud whisper to Narcissa, "I'm getting another drink then heading outside. I'll see you when dinner is announced."
Blocked
Author: Prof. Sorcha
Date: 08-25-03 22:35
Sorcha sat in her room staring at the pile of paper in front of her. All of the grading she had to do was already finished and in the classroom. Sorcha had been staring at them all day since she was unable to see Dierna.
She had been stopped by a ministry worker who repeatedly told her that Dierna was busy or she needed an appointment. The man was kind enough to suggest the earliest available appointment date, which was next week. So, after a small scene Sorcha left and returned to Hogwarts.
After an all night, and all day debate with herself, Sorcha decided that she would have to go to Dumbledore so he could contact Dierna. She could come to Hogwarts and both of them could hear the confession at the same time.
Sorcha finally got up and started walking towards Dumbledore's office to make her request. She took the spells and note with her just in case he needed convincing.
Networking
Author: Dierna ní Cíaran
Date: 08-25-03 22:37
The disdainful look on Lucius's face makes me snigger. I can see him trying to figure out how much I had to sell, or how much indebt I want, to buy the elegant, expensive robes I chose for this event - red or god, depending on how the light catches the material. The bet part is I could easily afford the gown.
"Is something funny?" asks the person to whom I am speaking, an important dignitary from the German MOM. Just then a staunchly man falls down in the middle of the floor, drunk. "Is he Irish, do you think?" the dignitary asks me, then realizes what he said and tries to apologize. He's an important person and could be good contact so I brush it aside. "We do have that reputation, sadly. But the traditionalists don't abide such things."
Someone helps the drunken man up and the German official turns back to me.
"And what do the traditionalists abide?"
"Truth above all else. Moderation is also important. They are specific in what is good and what is evil. As for myself, I aim to live by the Druid's wisdom, but doubt I can ever attain that lever of wisdom."
"Can anyone achieve such levels of greatness and wisdom?"
"Oh yes," I reply, without hesitation. "And one person such lives so today: the Olamh. Dumbledore."
We move toward the dinner table and resume our conversation.
"You have a deep understanding of these things."
"Go raibh maiht agait. I was raised with the traditional values. They are a part of me. Plus I studied old Irish magic."
"That would explain it. You name Dumbledore as a great and wise man. How would you reply to those who say he is senile?"
"Those people do not wish to accept Truth, and blame the Olamh for speaking it."
"You are referring to He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named."
"Indeed. Dumbeldore knows that Voldemort" some gasps and "Don't say the name!" interrupt here. I wait for them to die down before I continue. "Voldemort is back. But it's the truth, and Truth doesn't change just because we don't want it to be so. Dumbledore fights against evil in its forms, and stands for what is True - even "against the whole world" as the triad says. He has my loyalty above that of anyone else. I will always stand alongside the Headmaster. I hope one day I can have even a third of his wisdom."
"You speak very eloquently in his defense. I will bring your words to the German Ministry."
"Thank you, Sir. I would appreciate that very much."
After dinner is over and people are leaving I give my name to the German official. He gives me his own card and tells me to contact him if he can be of help I apparate back to Hogsmeade in a good mood. I made a potential ally and also made several very interesting observations about certain people.
MOM - Wandering
the Hallways
Author: Drucilla Eternal
Date: 08-26-03 07:01
Walking towards my office, I thought over the events of last evening. Fudge's party, a ghastly affair, had not moved me any further in my search for information. The only thing I had seemed to accomplish was avoiding Dierna and keeping up a casual appearance with Lucius. I had stuck it out though, and did end up talking up the Italian Minister. By the time I had left, I had jotted down his name as a potential future ally. Unfortunately, that blasted Dierna woman had been singing the praises of Dumbledore to every person she met. I did my best to do a bit of damage control, but in the end I think she might have convinced a few of them.
Almost reaching my closet of an office, I heard the faint sound of whispering. I tilted my head slightly, trying to make out the direction of the sound. It was then that I realized the sound was coming from the walls!
"She wants to get rid of her", said the hushed voice. "She doesn't trust that Veela woman".
Turning the corner, I saw two men whispering in a painting of the Ministry office when it was first built. Smiling slightly, I approached the men and made my voice come out in a somewhat musical tone. "What is your name, sir?"
He blinked once, and then his face relaxed as an odd smile played on his lips. "I'm Perry. And you are Drucilla."
I smiled, as I kept my gaze steady on Perry. "I heard you talking Perry. Who doesn't trust me?"
"Ms. Barret. I heard her say so in her office."
I looked downwards and frowned. How much did this Barret woman know? Was she on to me? Smiling again, I dismissed Perry with a musical "Thank you". Walking into my office, I sat down at Arthur's desk, deep in thought. I'd have to keep my eye on Barret. And if it turned out that she knew too much, then she would be dealt with - appropriately.
Letters
Author: Majandra
Date: 08-26-03 11:26
Sitting in the most secluded spot in the virtually empty library, Majandra once again reads the two most recent letters from George. The first had arrived Monday morning, crossing paths with one she'd sent to him. Still very upset with extremely mixed, and confusing, emotions from Sunday's shocking news, the unexpected contents of the letter threw Majandra into even greater inner turmoil.
George began the letter assuring Majandra he loves her very much then revealed that he had finally done what she'd been suggesting for months now. George had spent time with another girl though he stressed it that at no time were she and he on any actual dates. When a friend of Blossom's came to visit from the States, Blossom and Fred asked George to accompany them as they showed Lena around Wizarding and Muggle London. George had greatly enjoyed Lena's company. Found he truly - deeply - liked her.
Majandra had nearly not finished reading the letter at that point, sure George was building up to admitting he was ready to end things with her, letting her down as gently as he could by saying he still loved her but. There is always a but in such situations, followed by we can still be friends. Majandra had forced herself to read on and was very glad she'd done so.
George had then gone on to write that he thought he and Lena could be great friends and if Majandra ever had a chance to meet Lena, he knows she would want to befriend Lena as well. And as nice, intelligent, and funny as Lena is and as much as he likes Lena, every time they were together, part of George kept wishing Majandra could be there to share the experience of meeting someone new and having fun sight seeing with him and the others. As enjoyable as everything was, George felt something was lacking the entire time - Majandra's presence.
For George, this confirmed that Majandra's the only one for him. Lena has so much of the same qualities and personality but she's not Majandra. George affirmed again how much he loves Majandra. He then brought up eloping. He'd done it before so Majandra wasn't surprised. George has even let Maj know that if she wants to finish school, they could still elope over the summer and simply not tell anyone who might make an issue of there being a married student at Hogwarts.
Majandra's mood was greatly bolstered by George's letter and she was also very glad she'd decided to confide in George about the news concerning Pyrrhus. Majandra has said not a word to anyone, not even to Pyrrhus or their parents, about what took place Sunday. The only person she'd even considered telling was George. Writing the letter to him had been difficult because of the confusing riot of thoughts and emotions about it all but she knew, as she's always known since falling for George, that he will be supportive and keep things to himself, even from Fred. Plus, there is always an inner need to share with George all that goes on in her life when he's not around.
The second letter from George came early Tuesday afternoon, just after lunchtime and just as Maj thought, George had written a very thoughtful, supporting, loving letter. As she finishes reading both letters she immediately starts reading them over one more time. When done, she finally sets them aside, pulls out a slightly scent, pale rose piece of parchment, picks up a quill, dips it in ink, and begins writing another letter to George. Unlike other replies in which she'd not written a word when the elopement issue had been brought up, this time Majandra asks George exactly how he thinks it could be pulled off.
Divining
New Lesson Plans
Author: Saffron
Date: 08-26-03 14:07
At a table in the faculty lounge Saffron scribbles line after line on official looking forms on thick, quality, yellow parchment, each page having a Hogwarts seal as a watermark. She isn't aware of the door opening nor of someone sliding into the chair beside her.
"You are certainly working hard on a holiday."
Saffron jumps, the quill smudging ink then splattering droplets of violet over several pages of parchment. Her eyes wide, one hand going to her thumping heart, Saffron suddenly gives an almost giddy sounding giggle. "
You startled me, Professor McGonagall."
The older woman smiles widely enough for a friendly flash of teeth to show. "Obviously, though it was quite by accident. I thought you head me come in. Oh, dear. I've caused you to make a mess."
With a wave and a tap of her wand, the ink droplets vanish and the smudge becomes a legible word. "There. All better. Except for the becoming violet splotches on your cheeks and nose," Professor McGonagall chuckles.
Saffron laughs, "If I see any students before I wash it off, I'll be sure to tell them I've come down with a case of purple polka dots disease."
This quip draws forth another chuckle from Professor McGonagall who then nods towards the pages of parchment. "Getting ahead on writing lesson plans?"
With a quick shake of her head Saffron replies, "No actually, getting behind I think. Late last night I decided to take a different approach for the next few weeks to introduce the fifth and seventh years to some of the more unusual forms of divination, which means rewriting what I had already prepared. So very often the so called trick questions on the OWLs and NEWTs aren't so much a trick but rather involve something obscure to which the student has had little or no exposure."
Professor McGonagall nods her head in agreement. "What do you have in mind for next week's lessons?"
"I thought I'd start with some of those that involve edible substances. Aleuromancy, Alomancy, Alpitomancy, Cromniomancy, Ovomancy, and Tiromancy. From what I've gathered, all the classes under Professer Trelawney have had extensive lessons in Tasseography so I won't cover it again this year other than in review. I also don't expect to get all of these covered next week but hopefully the week after that I will have at least exposed my classes to them. They won't need to be experts or even proficient for the OWLs and NEWTs but they should at least have basic knowledge. After I've covered this group, I'll cover other forms, such as Onomancy."***
Professor McGonagall nods again. "Well, I shall leave you to your work. Please let me know if you need any supplies. I'll see you get them right away."
"Thank you, I appreciate your offer and will definitely take you up on it if needed."
The other woman smiles and pats Saffron's hand, "Just part of my job. Think nothing of it. I let you get back to work."
By the time Professor McGonagall is halfway across the room, Saffron is once more scribbling away, very deep in thought.
***
Aleuromancy - divination using "fortune cookies" in which answers to questions are rolled into balls of dough and once baked are chosen at random
Alomancy - divination using table salt
Alpitomancy - divination which uses special cakes (usually of barley) that are digestible by persons with a clear conscience but are unpleasant to others
Cromniomancy - divination in which the significance of omens are drawn from the color, smell, direction, and form of onions sprouts
Ovomancy - divination using eggs
Tiromancy - divination using cheese in which the holes and mold are interpretted
Tasseography - divination method of reading tea leaves that remain in a tea cup once the beverage has been drunk
Onomancy - divination method which studies the meanings of names
A Fine Time
to Finally Share
Author: Pyrrhus
Date: 08-26-03 16:32
Since Sunday, Py's small circle of very close friends have known something was up but as yet, Pyrrhus hasn't said to word to any of them, not even Isolde. While he's know that Isolde is hurt that he's not confided in her, and as awful as he feels about being the cause of Isolde's upset, Pyrrhus has needed some time to think before sharing his news.
Despite the sense of satisfaction at learning the information in the anonymous letter was dead on correct and despite the attitude he'd shown on Sunday when having this information confirmed, Py never expected to feel conflicted and confused within hours after the "family" meeting ended.
Eliza and Paul Fine are the only parents he's ever known. Eliza is from an excellent Wizarding family and overall has been a really great mother. At no time has she ever give Pyrrhus a reason to suspect she'd not given birth to him. As for Paul, he might be a dirty mudblood but Py has to admit that even with that shortcoming, Paul has been a pretty good father.
Over the past few days, Pyrrhus has thought things over a great deal and made some decisions. He will keep the Fine name but add in his biological father's last name. If the Fine's won't agree to let him do that now, he will do it when he turns seventeen and legally able to make the name change whether they wish it or not. Py also will request that Eliza and Paul make it known to other family members, namely the grandparents, that they have kept a secret all these years. If Paul's parents want to still consider Py their grandson and continue giving him money and gifts, well, Py isn't fool enough to turn down nice presents, even ones from Muggles.
Py has also made some decisions he doesn't plan to share with "the family." One is that when the Dark Lord gains control of the government, Py will see what he can do about not having the Fine grandparents or Paul killed. Paul and Eliza can suck it up and live the life the Dark Lord orders for those of Muggle heritage and those stupid enough to marry them and the grandparents can be dutiful Muggle serfs to the new world leader. Or, if the four can't handle that, Pyrrhus will see what he can do to ensure they have speedy deaths.
Dear sister Majandra is another story. Something long, slow, and painful for that overly goody, sweet, simpleton. Maybe if she were in Hufflepuff or Ravenclaw, she wouldn't be so hard to tolerate but Gryffindor for pity's sake. Makes the stomach turn.
Further thoughts of the future he envisions for Majandra come to a halt when Isolde sits down beside Py on the sunny spot of grass where Py's lain deep in thought much of the day. Pyrrhus sits up, takes Isolde's hand, very aware of the veiled hurt and anger in her eyes. Py raises the hand to his mouth and gives it a gentle kiss before saying, "I know you aren't very happy with me right now but give me a few minutes and I'll explain."
The look in Isolde's eyes doesn't change nor does she so much as nod at him, but she also doesn't pull her hand from his. A good sign. Changing positions so that he can look at Isolde as he talks, Pyrrhus begins telling Isolde about his birth mother Sally, Eliza Fine's best friend, and about the man Sally loved. A man who was to receive the Dark Mark but died supporting the Dark Lord's cause before he could do so. Died not knowing that Sally was gravely ill and expecting their son.
MOM Headquarters:
Making Alliances
Author: Dierna ní Cíaran
Date: 08-26-03 20:38
Still in a good mood, I ponder the lists of people I had talked to last night. During the evening more than one person had been drawn to the conversation with the German VIP, and I had found myself arguing like a brehon. I must remember to write to Caitle and thank him for his stressing eloquence.
I replay the scenes in my mind. The new MMA employee had been there too -- Drucilla. She seemed to want to avoid me, though tried to make her avoidance seem casual. I am much too experienced to fall for such a trick. I'll have to talk to Arthur about her, see what he thinks of the co-worker. Then I think of Voleta. Since working with her on the Godric's Hollow case I'd come to respect and like her very much. She sees the new MMA employee too.
I walk quickly to her office and knock. Voleta seems reluctant to answer the door but brightened considerably when she sees it's me.
"Oh. I was afraid it was that Drucilla woman again!" Before answering again I glance to the picture frame on the wall. It's empty so I say, "That bad, is she? I think we should talk - about her and a few other things. Why don't you come to my place after work? It's safer that way; more secure."
MOM HQ: Burning
Bridges
Author: Nakshidil Aksoy
Date: 08-27-03 09:20
"Nakshidil Sultana, gunaydin! Nasilsiniz? Cette parti, comment etait?"
The assistant to the acting IWC Deputy Director was a slim, dark-haired, excitable girl much given to wriggling like a kitten and leaving scorched fingermarks on her paperwork when she greeted her mistress in the mornings. Gulbehar's struggles with English and her lapses into more comfortable tongues were hints of her ambivalence about leaving Paris for the comparative security of Britain, but she *was* trying hard to adjust -- just as hard as she had tried when Kiusem smuggled her out of Istanbul into the Sultana's protective circle.
Nakshidil sighed, adjusting the folds of her bulky sash. "English, Gulbehar. But gunaydin. It was fine, that party; I must have signed two dozen books before someone gave me a quill to do it for me. I was shown off without shame, but that had to happen sooner or later, I suppose." The nadir of the evening had come when Fudge cajoled her into summoning a rose of fire for a sneering sort whose haughty demeanor put her in mind of her husband during the thick of his plotting. Nakshidil, resplendent in her feather-sewn yelek and dripping rose petals from her sash, had felt her eyes begin to glaze over by the time Fudge "introduced" her to the Irish truthsayer. She was grateful to Fudge for his panting, starry-eyed employment and protection offers, but last night's party turned out to be another demonstration of his lack of discernment.
Dierna's eyes had crinkled at the edges, signaling her amusement when she reminded Fudge that she had already met the respected Scheherezade.
"Oh, quite right, quite right," he bluffed shamelessly.
"Did you speak to the Magus?" The peri's eyes were round and solemn.
"Yes, of course ... it's the same as always; Suleyman gives not an inch and blusters that he will kill us all someday." Fudge had been in danger of monopolizing her all night until, with great relief, she found the Turkish MOM, Magus Osric, and begged off the rest of the rounds to speak privately with Osric. "But our sisters are persevering; the got three out last month with prospects for two more this month. I asked him to send them to Kiusem, who may bring them here."
Gulbehar nodded sagely. "Ah, then will we do our work this morning, or the Ministry's work?"
"Our work *is* this Ministry's work," Nakshidil reminded the girl sharply. She brushed past her toward the door to her private office, but the chastened look in the peri's eyes caused her to turn at the jamb. "All right," she relented. "You may come with me later today when I visit Hurrem. She's having troubles with learning the language; it would do you good to tutor her for an afternoon."
An Evening
Visitor
Author: Albus Dumbledore
Date: 08-28-03 16:43
It was Wednesday evening, and I was busy at my desk...
Question No. 5 - How does one go about disarming or neutralizing a Boggart? Demonstrate!
I set my quill back in the inkwell and began thumbing through the books and notes for more questions for the O.W.L.'s. Londy appeared before my desk and announced, "Professor? You have a visitor... one of the professors. Shall I show her in?"
"Of course! Of course! By all means!" I said, looking up at the waterclock on the shelf. Hmmm! Quarter of eight? A little late for a casual visit. Must be some kind of problem. These thoughts ran through my head as Londy escorted Professor Sorcha into my office. There is a worried look on her face that told me my last thought was quite near the mark.
"Good evening, Christina!" I said as I lead her over to the comfortable chairs in my "chatting" nook. She had a fistful of papers clutched in her hand. Londy poured tea as we both took seats at the low table. "Well now! I would say that there is something bothering you. How can I help?"
She explained her situation in halting words, finally showing me the papers as corroberation. I recognized the handwriting, immediately. "So this is why you were so anxious to see the Head Auror!" I exclaimed. "I think the best we can do is set something up for Saturday! For this, I don't think she would mind sacrificing a bit of her weekend."
I hastily scratched out a note to Dierna, and Christina added a short PS. I asked Londy to send it off immediately, Knowing Dierna would not be in bed yet. Before I let Christina leave the office, I gave her two very powerful spells designed to keep others out of her head. With a tearful thank you, she left and went back to her own quarters.
Not So Error
Proof Test
Author: Sirius Padfoot Black
Date: 08-28-03 18:35
Head bent, alternating massaging his temple a thumb of one hand with making circular motions on his forehead with the fingers of that same hand, Sirius contemplates taking a break and scrounging through cabinets for a headache remedy. He finishes laying out a page for a primer of sorts on the simplest, most fundamental of spells, charms, and potions that can be used for dark arts, or other felonious purposes, then pushes away from the table.
With the pounding, throbbing pain in his head, Sirius nearly misses the mistake. The migraine is bad enough that Sirius did the page layout in preparation of printing without actually seeing what was in front of him. As the headache came on, the more automatically mindless his work became. When pushing away from the drafting style table, his eyes took in the draft off which he'd worked and for some reason the mistake registered.
There, plain as day, the draft reads forty-one feathers of the Amazilia cyanocephala, otherwise known as the Azure Crowned Hummingbird (found in Mexico and Central American). Sirius knows without doubt the number is transposed and the correct number of feathers for this particular potion is fourteen. Putting in forty-one would render the potion inert and completely harmless.
Over the past three weeks, Sirius has lost count of how many errors, ranging from extremely minor to very major, he's caught in the materials on which he's been assigned to work. These mistakes are not simple typographical or grammatical in nature. The errors have all involved specific information that when changed greatly change the desired outcome of the magic to be rendered.
As with all the others, Sirius makes a record of the error in a large, bright blue leather-bound ledger notebook used as a log, marks the mistake on the draft parchment in equally bright blue ink, and makes the correction on the page layout. As he does this he once again thinks to himself that either the people Wheelright has doing the proofreading are becoming more and more imbecilic and irresponsible in carrying out their work or Wheelright is testing him. It's for that very reason that, as much as Sirius is loath to fix each error, every single mistake he catches is logged and corrected.
If this is all some damned test, Sirius is determined to pass, particularly since it would mean gaining even more of Wheelright's trust and thus becoming privy to the vital information Sirius seeks.
Putting the log back in its proper place, his migraine now worse than before, Sirius goes in search of that headache reliever.
Late Night
Mail
Author: Dierna ní Cíaran
Date: 08-28-03 20:24
"Dierna remembered to send the present for little Sabina?" Blinkey asks me. It would be a bit late if I hadn't, Michael's niece's birthday was on Thursday. Blinkey had spent the past few days at Michael's estate, keeping the place spotless. So she hadn't been able not remind me.
"Yes, Blinkey. I sent Michael's gift Wednesday morning. That way it would get to France in good time."
Blinkey nods, pleased when there is a sudden tapping on the window. Blinkey jumps up and unlatches it and an owl flies in. I frown.
"Who could send me a message at this time of night?"
I take the letter and read it, it is from the Olamh. I read it quickly, and then the post script from Professor Sorcha.
I take a pen and reply:
I always have time to talk to you, Olamh. I'll be at Hogwarts early Saturday morning. I have other news for you too, which I'll tell you in person.
Is Mise le Meas.
Dierna
I attach it to the owl's leg and send it off. Then I walk to my study and take out an issue of The Auror's Orb and put it on my desk, along with some papers and notes. Tomorrow's meeting should be very interesting.
Taipei, Taiwan:
A Decision Reached
Author: Ethan Somerset
Date: 08-29-03 07:59
Ethan met Kep-Tian, Chichang, Yilan and Meilan in the back room of the soup shop in Taipei, eager to finally learn the Taiwanese dark wizard's decision on whether or not he and his followers would join Lord Voldemort's forces. As usual, they were seated around the small, circular table, playing-cards in one hand, an alcoholic drink in the other and a cigar protruding from the leader's lips. The British wizard joined the table, accepted a drink from Meilan, who had just retrieved it from a nearby refreshments cart, and asked, "Well, have you reached your decision, Kep-Tian? Have you decided to join the Dark Lord?"
Kep-Tian lowered the cigar from his lips and eyed Ethan carefully through dark, mysterious eyes. "I have reached a decision, and my friends here," he gestured around the table, "are in agreement with me. We will join the Dark Lord..."
Ethan inhaled sharply.
"...after you do something for us," Kep-Tian finished, studying Ethan intently.
Ethan exhaled and queried, "And what exactly do you ask of me?"
"We have encountered a little problem," Meilan replied, taking a rare moment to speak. "One of our old colleagues--her name is Taz-Marah--has resurfaced. She left Kep-Tian last year during one of the raids. We have reason to believe that she has gathered several wizards to work for her. We would like to..."
"You would like to bring her back into the fold?" Ethan interrupted, quite interested in the tale.
"No," Kep-Tian answered, somewhat angrily. "We would like to kill her and all who have joined her."
Ethan leaned back in his chair and thought a moment. "Because she betrayed you. Because she's started anew without you."
Kep-Tian nodded his head grimly.
"Well," Ethan started, looking Kep-Tian in the eye, "if dealing with Taz-Marah will get you into the Dark Lord's circle, I'd be happy to help you. Where can we find her?"
"Memphis, Egypt," replied Meilan.
Work, Work,
Work
Author: Darksong Shadowhart
Date: 08-29-03 15:50
Darksong sat at her desk in the office of The Daily Prophet, her omnipresent mug of coffee steaming temptingly as she pulled a stack of weekly columns from her inbox to edit. She gave the first a cursory glance, then her red-inked quill began skimming over the parchment.
"You'd think these people would learn to buy self-correcting quills!" the woman snapped resignedly as she finished editing for spelling and grammar, then glanced at the facts at the beginning of the column. She made a note about the lack of source citations, then slammed the parchment into the pile of stories that she deemed to still need work. As this was the Easter week, she was taking on more things that her job normally required, since most of the employees of the paper were home with their families. Darksong shook her head, deep brown hair falling into her eyes. Just as well she wasn't married- it left her more time to get ahead in her work. She knew her parents had been at her to take a week off to come visit, but she had consistently ignored their owls. -I shall have to go for a couple of days to appease them soon,- she thought, glaring at the next piece of parchment with a frown wrinkling her pale brow.
