Visiting Pots and Pages
Author: Hermione Granger
Date: 03-21-04 08:04
A light sprinkling of snow fell from the overcast sky above, dusting everything outside with soft, white powder. Hermione and Ron ambled down the snow-covered slope, breathing in the cool air and laughing as they argued over which Hogsmeade establishment to visit first. The Head Girl adjusted the red and yellow scarf around her neck and quickly stuffed her gloved hands into the pockets of her coat, throwing an amused look at Ron.
"We always go to the Three Broomsticks. Always, always, always. It's not an ice-cold butterbeer I want anyway. I'd much prefer some hot tea!"
Ron held up his fingers, which were pink from the cold (he'd left his gloves in the common room), and remarked, "That leaves us with Madam Puddifoot's, Pots and Pages or Briar's." His lips curled up into a smile. "Let me guess. You want to go to Pots and Pages."
"Excellent idea, Ron!" Hermione exclaimed, laughing.
"Something hot to drink and books in the same setting?! However could I have suggested something otherwise?" Ron said sarcastically. He rolled his eyes and laughed, watching as the air in front of his face fogged up.
"Well, on with it then. It's cold out there, even if the snow is lovely." Hermione looped one arm around Ron's, who buried his hands in the pockets of his winter coat and snuggled up to his girlfriend's warm body.
"Do you think Harry will come to town today?" Ron asked after a moment of silence.
"I don't know," Hermione answered. "Did you see him this morning?"
"The curtains were drawn around his four-poster, but I know he was awake. He's usually up far before me these days, off in the library or studying in the common room. I could see the faint glow of the tip of his wand moving slowly from side to side through his bed hangings. I think he was reading," Ron said.
"I must say that I'm impressed to see him working so hard this year, but it's taking a toll on his personality. He's never been this moody for so long a time." Hermione frowned.
"Maybe when the year is over we'll have Harry back to his old self again," Ron said, pulling Hermione towards the door of Pots and Pages. "If he's not too busy with his new career as a Flobberworm farmer!" Ron rolled his eyes.
"Speaking of careers," Hermione started, unbuttoning her coat as she stepped into the warmth of the store. She shot Ron a serious look, though a hint of playfulness was there.
"Oh, Hermione!" Ron groaned. "Just give it a rest and order your hot tea!" He grinned and urged her into a chair.
Lost and Found
Author: Draco Malfoy
Date: 03-21-04 11:50
Pulling the night stand's only drawer from its frame, Draco emptied the contents onto the cold, stone floor next to his bed. He rummaged through scraps of parchment, a few quills, a half-full well of black ink, and some other miscellaneous items, searching for the item he seemed to be missing. Expelling a flurry of curse words, Draco clenched his hands into fists and glared around the room trying to remember when he'd seen it last and where exactly it had been.
And then he remembered. He scrambled to his feet and tore the comforter and sheets from his bed and ripped the pillow from its rightful place at the headboard. It wasn't there either.
"What are you looking for?" Goyle asked from where he stood in the doorway of the dormitory room.
"Nothing!" Draco snapped. "Go to Hogsmeade, Goyle."
The large boy exchanged a look with Crabbe, who stood nearby, and together they walked out of the room leaving Draco to tear up the room in peace. He stood next to his bed, staring at the blank space where it should have been, pondering furiously as to where it could be now.
And then an idea came to mind. Draco climbed onto his bed and peered into the darkness between mattress and the headboard. Nothing. To be sure, he climbed out of bed and used his wand to levitate the mattress and everything else in the bed to see if what he sought had somehow fallen beneath them. Still nothing.
Growing more furious, Draco lowered the mattress with a thud and made an angry noise in his throat. "Where could it be?" Draco asked himself through gritted teeth.
He knelt next to the over-turned drawer and rummaged through the contents again, then started pulling his textbooks from the shelf in the night stand. It wasn't there, between the books, or behind them or anywhere else Draco could see. Frustrated, the Slytherin prefect threw his thick Transfiguration textbook against the wall, where it fell to the floor behind the night stand.
Draco sighed and thought he'd just leave it and go to Hogsmeade to blow off some steam, but something made him decide to fetch his Transfiguration textbook right then and there. Curiously, he leaned over the night stand and reached for his book, which he pulled up by the front cover. He threw it onto his bed and lit his wand, holding it in the crevice between the night stand and the wall.
And there, shimmering in the wandlight, was the mind-reading medallion.
Location Unknown: Read a Good Book, Everyday!
Author: Voldemort
Date: 03-21-04 19:19
I have finished reading through the Fenririan Manuscript. There is much interesting information in here. In particular is a passage as to how the Giants lost their godlike powers and were reduced to the brainless oafs they are now.
Which is just the edge I need to get them to join me. For what has been done can be revered. I can promise to restore the Giants to their former glory IF they join me.
Marginalised as they are, I have no doubt the Giants will agree to such a gift. They will flock to me and I write a quick note and send it with an owl to Amashelle. She'll relay this new offer to the Giants.
Soon I'll have an army to cause the Order of Fools to run in terror.
Ron's Girl
Author: Adam Sparrow
Date: 03-21-04 20:25
"I swear that guy next to me looked like Captain Electron," Adam chattered to Sidi from his perch on the counter.
"Uh huh." She responded from the table more interested in studying "To Invoke and Compel: A Treatise on Successful Spirit Interface" than her husband's juvenile obsession with toys.
Adam continued to shoot at empty coffee containers with his paintball gun. None of which he hit.
"I wonder if it was him. He had red hair you know." He pulled the trigger again but to his utter despair it didn't work. He clicked the trigger again and again.
"Sidi!" click click click click click click
"SIDI!" click click click click click click
She absently waved her hand to allow the toy to start to work again and restore peace.
Paint balls escaped the barrel in a rush just as Hermione and Ron walked into the shop.
Ron jumped as he turned purple red and blue.
"Ahhhhhh!!" Ron yelled and ducked allowing Hermione to take the remaining 12 paintballs.
Adam started to laugh hysterically. Sidi jumped up furious.
"Oh my gods!" She ran to the girl who just stood there with more dignity and grace than Sidi knew a girl her age could have.
Adam howled with laughter. "You're such a bleedin' wanker!"
"Shut up!" Ron peeked out from behind a stack of pumpkin spice coffee. He raised his wand and tried to make his face as threatening as possible.
"You let yer girlfriend take the hit!!" He laughed so hard tears started to leak down his cheeks. "Oh put the wand away you're not allowed to do magic!!"
Sidi grabbed her wand from the counter. "Scourgify" and led Hermione to a table. "I'm so sorry, honey. Men are idiots and the sooner you learn that the happier you'll be. What can I get for you?" She had to raise her voice to be heard over Ron and Adam's bickering.
"Tea please," Hermione said as she got up to look through the books. Sidi brought her tea. "So you're Ron's girl! Ron, good job!"
Sidi and Adam, good friends of Arthur and Molly, had met Ron at his home over the summer holiday. Adam, embarrassed by his inferiority to the boy had been quiet and aloof. Ron, at his parents prompting tried to put him at ease and the two cultivated a friendship.
"Shut up! I did not!" His ears turned red as he realized he actually did let Hermione take the hit. He crawled out from behind his fort and sat at the table.
"I'll take a butterbeer." Adam brought it over. Sidi followed with a plate of scones.
"What is that? Let me see it." Ron was intrigued by the paintball gun.
Adam gave it to him. He looked hopefully at Sidi whose nonverbal communication indicated the toy would never work again.
"So what kind of books do you like?" She asked Hermione who was already halfway through the stacks.
"What doesn't she like?" Ron rolled his eyes and took another scone.
En Route to Hogsmeade, an Unusual Discovery
Author: Sebastian Sjoblom
Date: 03-21-04 22:09
Sebastian yawns, mechanically pulling on a ratty bathrobe with a ripped armpit over his pajamas. They're blue school-issued PJs that his previous school allowed him to take with him, pinstriped and piped with dirtying, unwashed white. Standing on his bed, he blinks at the light streaming in through the window, attempting to orient himself.
Echoing in his mind is a blurred memory of a white-tiled potions classroom, a heated insult, his wand raised, a hideous curse, a sea of insects, an explosion, and then his pretty, well-liked cousin shrieking and skidding across the floor, landing slumped against the wall, hideously disfigured, hair scorched to a charcoal scalp, barely breathing, in full view of a classroom full of shocked thirteen-year-olds. The room, staring, quiet as the grave for a half-second, and then there came the shouting, screaming girls rushing to his cousin Gotilda's side. He remembers Professor Berusius shouting for everyone to stand back, which they didn't, and at that point Sebastian took to his heels, hyperventilating, wanting nothing more than to escape what he'd done....
He massages his temple with a thumb and flumps back onto the bed. That's behind him, now. The only trace left of that past is the blurry flashback nightmare, though it has been haunting him with steadily increasing frequency....
Oh, well. That's behind him, now.
Coincidentally, just as he's telling himself that, Rudy swoops in through the window, dropping a letter, addressed in Swedish to "Hogwarts Akademien," into his lap and shooting him a distasteful glance that says "I've flown all night so I hope you're happy," before settling on the head of the bed, waiting to see if Sebastian will be writing a response. Sebastian reaches into the Mason jar on the bedside table and fishes out an owl treat. Rudolph eats it out of his fingers, and is about to dive for the whole jar of little rodent-flavored cubes. Sebastian shuts it hastily.
He slits the letter open with his fingernail, and pulls out two sheets of paper. One from Sigfrid, one from Jonatan. He skims over them half-heartedly, and quickly scribbles a return message consisting of bland good wishes to Sigfrid and Jonatan and Astrid med flera*, empty, unenthusiastic chatter about last week's Quidditch match, and apologies, because, he writes, he's in a rush, and regrettably has to be going on his way to one of his many exciting Hogwarts classes. The readers, of course, have no way of knowing that he's lying, and it's Saturday.
After sealing the new letter in the envelope it was sent in, scribbling out the previous address, and replacing it with "Jonatan Sachs och Sigfrid Ljungborg", he hands it to Rudy with instructions to take it back to the old school, and promptly goes back to sleep. The letters from Sigfrid and Jonatan lie abandoned on the floor beside his bed.
A hand shakes him awake. Sebastian rubs the sleep from his eyes with the heels of his hands, propping himself up on his elbows.
"What is the time?" he asks.
"Ten," Arley informs him. "You slept all morning, an' I didn't wanna wake you."
"I'm very sleepy..." Sebastian says in what is indeed a very sleepy manner, pushing back the coverlet.
"It's Hogsmeade weekend," Arley says. He combs his fingers through Sebastian's unruly hair to lay it flat, one of the small, insignificant physical intimacies that he's allowed himself over the course of the week. "Let's walk this weekend."
"I'm sleepy, and it is cold outside," Sebastian says. "Who wants to walk in the cold?"
"You do," Arley informs him. "With me, Bron, and Desi."
"Okay," Sebastian caves, ever complaisant. He does a series of elaborate waking-up stretches, touching his toes, cracking each knuckle in turn, and performing various contortions of his limbs. Arley laughs at him, and he punches him good-naturedly before changing into a mismatched outfit of Muggle clothes.
Arley clomps down the stairs, with a yawning Sebastian in tow, and they meet up with their fellow Hufflepuffs. Sebastian says little besides monosyllabic mumbles, earning him a spray of cold water in the face from Desi. This wakes him up, finally, and they forge out into the cold for Hogsmeade, making small talk as they walk. The conversation drifts first to Hogwarts in general, then to sporting events, and gradually to the Triwizard Tournament a few years back, which neither Arley or Sebastian are familiar with. Bronwyn expounds for them on a particular event involving dragons.
"I saw one of them in the holding pen," Bronwyn explains. "Huge, with dark green scales. I swear, it almost lunged at me."
"Common Welsh Green," he recites automatically. "Habitat: high, craggy mountains in Wales. Diet: sheep. Coloration: Green. Relatively harmless unless agitated."
Desi is the first to catch on.
"That's from Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them," she says. "From the section on dragons."
"But, Seb, you don't take Care of Magical Creatures," Arley says, having secretly committed Sebastian's schedule to memory. "When did you read Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them?"
"Oh..." he says, stalling. He folds and unfolds his fingers, a nervous habit. "One... one picks such things up." He attempts to change the subject, and succeeds, launching Desi and Bronwyn into a heated discussion about... something or other; he isn't following it closely. However, feeling as though Arley deserves at least some of the truth, he whispers in a cryptic aside:
"Dragon Keeper training." Arley's eyeballs pop out of his head, but when Bronwyn turns to Sebastian with a "What, now?" he puts a finger to his lips, and Arley nods conspiratorally.
*et al.
Christmas Plans
Author: Desdemona Diamond
Date: 03-22-04 11:13
The four of us walk towards Hogsmeade, the guys talking about something or another. Bronwyn and I talk mostly about Bronwyn's seldom seen shoe collection. She, of course, denies that it's a collection but 'a carefully chosen array of footwear for any occasion, which may arise.'
"Dragon Keeper training," Arley suddenly says loudly. I keep walking, but Bron turns to look at them while saying, "What now?"
It's about then that we reach the Three Broomsticks and walk in. We pick a table near a window and four butterbeers come over to the table. I watch as the others drink theirs as I play around with the bottle. I never did like to drink them.
As Arley and Seb talk amongst themselves, I look at Bron. "Bron, umm, for Christmas every other year I spend with my parents. The year I'm not there is the year my sister is and since last year was the off year it means that I'm going to go back to Seattle for Christmas this year."
"Oh, I see," Bron says more to herself but quickly follows up with, "I can't believe you're leaving me with those two over there," pointing at Arley and Seb.
"Well," I glance at the two, "I sent a letter to my parents asking if you could join me and they said that you come with me if it was ok with you and your parents. Which means you won't be stuck here with them, but I'll be stuck with you shopping."
"That would be cool!" Bron exclaimed.
"Ummm, I also asked my parents to ask my sister to be there too so you can meet her."
"Awesome! That'll be fun!" Bronwyn pretty much yelled. It drew the attention of the guys who began looking at the both of us with questioning faces.
Paintballs
Author: Hermione Granger
Date: 03-22-04 16:22
Hermione had, of course, seen a paintball gun before. Several years ago, the Grangers had hosted a summer picnic with their fellow employees and friends from the dentist office. The receptionist's twin boys, age 16 then, had come armed with the guns and a sack full of paintballs. Mr. Granger and some of the other males present had thought it would be a fine idea to have a paintball war in the nearby woods, and promptly drove off to the nearest store to purchase the guns and more ammunition.
Upon their return, Hermione had been cajoled into playing to make the teams even. She joined her father's team, which had consisted of one of the twins, Jeremy (or had it been Jaron?), their father and one of the technicians from the dentistry. She had lasted a quarter of an hour before finding herself pelted with blue, yellow, pink and green paintballs, never having fired a shot herself. Her father's team had won the game, nonetheless, but Hermione's clothing had remained stained with the vibrant colors of the paintballs. (She couldn't "Scourgify!" at the time because of the underage wizarding law.)
"Is there a particular book you're interested in?" Sidi asked, and Hermione snapped out of her reverie and looked to the shopkeeper.
"No, nothing in particular. Is there anything you recommend?" Then she leaned in close so that Ron couldn't hear and asked, "What do you suggest for a Christmas present for that one?"
Hogsmeade...NOT Just Another Saturday!
Author: Albus Dumbledore
Date: 03-22-04 17:40
Our 'Hogsmeade Security Force' is somewhat depleted, but I have made arrangements for a number of others to fill in for the missing Snape and a few of the others. I think we have the place rather well covered. I am about to go up High Street and see if I can recruit the old Wizard, Nevvyn. I also need to ask him about his findings at the Quidditch Match. Everything was rather chaotic at the end of the match, having run so much later than usual. With all the 'good-byes' I had to say, we did not have a chance to talk, privately.
As I approach his 'Notions and Potions shop, I hear the strains of an Irish jig, floating out through the open transom. I open the frosty door and add the musical tinkle of the door chimes to what appears to be an impromptu Irish Ceili band. One of the Toms is playing on a bodhran, while another has a penny-whistle. The third is pumping an old squeeze-box and Nevvyn, himself, has a fiddle tucked under his chin. Surprisingly, they all seem to be playing the same tune. The old fellow laughs heartily at my attempt to dance to their music. I suppose I am not quite as light on my feet as I once was. After a few more measures, the entire group (including myself) dissolves into laughter.
"What brings you out in this weather?" he asks, eyeing the few lingering snowflakes still clinging to my hat and heavy robes.
"Why, it's our Hogsmeade Visit! I reply. "Didn't you get the notices?"
"I suppose I did," he says with a rueful chuckle. "Then, I promptly forgot, as sometimes happens."
The Toms busy themselves with collecting the instruments and tucking them safely away in the back room. Nevvyn leads me to one of the big leather chairs near the hearth and hands me a hot cup of tea. "I have been trying to get down to see you about that little request I made at the Quidditch Match. Unfortunately, the week seems to have just flown by."
"Ahhh! You're talking about trying to get a reading on Sirius' Lady-friend?" He settles on the other side of the fire. "Had a bit of difficulty, there! Too much commotion to do a thorough job of it. However, what I did see has me quite puzzled." Nevvyn takes a long sip of his tea and then launches into a lengthy discourse on what he calls life-sparks. From time to time, I add a few bits of information to the pot he is stirring. By the time he is finished, he has filled a scrap of parchment with strange signs and a very few understandable words. "This," he explains, "is my own form of memory jogger." He puzzles over it for several minutes, drawing lines here and there, scratching out some entries and adding others. Finally, he leans back and announces, "Well, Sir! She is either predominantly Human, with a severe manic-depressive complex, or she is predominantly Veela, and trying desperately to hide something."
For some time, I just sit there, trying to digest this information, form a plan of action and decide how to approach Sirius with my concerns. Suddenly, I realize that the morning is wearing on and I am not out patrolling the streets as I should be. I thank Nevvyn for his efforts and his kind hospitality, then ask another favor of him. "Could you more-or-less keep an eye on this end of High Street?" I ask. "If you see anything unusual, don't try to handle it by yourself. Just send up a shower of red sparks. You'll have Aurors a-plenty, before you can draw another breath." He agrees quite willingly, and I go back out into the crisp December air. The sun is now shining brightly and thankfully, the snow has stopped.
