The Prodigal Returns - Part Two
Author: Briar Rose
Date: 08-06-03 21:25

Briar waits on the new customers then walks the short distance from the counter to the kitchen. She removes two sheets of cookies from one of the ovens, places the pans near cooling racks and with a wave of her wand, the cookies transfer themselves to those very racks. When Briar turns around to work on another task, she finds her way blocked by Bill. Briar takes a step back, closing her eyes, shaking her head as if to say no, while slowly expelling a breath. She looks down at her feet for a second or two though it feels much longer then holds up a finger in a wait signal to Bill.

Briar exits the kitchen and approaches a table where a young couple sit holding hands and eating chocolate croissants. The woman is the sister of Briar's employee Cora.

"Maggie, Ronan, would you two cover the shop for me for a little while? Cora's not back and I need to speak privately with someone."

The two readily agree, knowing they will be paid for their time and Ronan knowing it means he'll be able to stuff himself with seconds on the house. Briar is just glad to have people in the shop who've helped out before. She returns to the kitchen and gestures for Bill to follow her upstairs.

Remaining silent, Briar stiffly sits down in a large, overstuffed easy chair, nodding towards the couch for Bill to sit as well. Usually looking right at home in her living room, today Bill has the look a person often has when waiting in a dentist's office for a root canal. He perches on the edge of the couch as if ready to bolt at any moment, his face still flushed from their brief conversation in the shop. Briar sits quietly, waiting for Bill to speak first. The silence stretches uncomfortably across one minute, then two but Briar is resolved not to speak until he does. When Bill does speak, the words seem to hang in the air between them.

"It's true I've been avoiding you. For the most part, almost all interactions I've had for awhile now have been strictly work related. Things are confusing. Complicated. Much of it has to do with..., well..., you know."

Briar's fixed gazed seems to add to Bill's discomfort but she's not going to make this easy for him so doesn't look away. She does, however, blink several times as if blinking helps her to formulate a reply.

"Yes. Charlie. Helena. But most of all Adriana. Always Adriana."

"You almost sound jealous."

"Of Adriana? No, never of Adriana. Not now. Not as children." Bill's eyes shift to the waterscape over the mantle while clasping and unclasping his hands. He ends up knocking a book off the coffee table and as he bends to put it back in its place, tendrils of his long hair come loose from his ponytail, partially obscuring his stubble covered face. Briar wonders what exactly he's thinking. Why show up out of the blue today then act like he doesn't want to talk? Or has this become something he's put off for so long the reality of seeing her face to face is even worse than he imagined it would be?

The silence becomes protracted once more as Bill pushes the hair out of his face and takes a moment to redo the ponytail. Briar continues to study him, thinking back to when they first met, his hair was only slightly shorter than it is now. Then the shock of seeing him after he returned from the missing, the glorious flame of hair cropped becomingly short. Is he right? Is there perhaps some jealousy of Adriana?

Briar imperceptibly shakes her head no at that thought. Her reply to Bill was one hundred percent the truth. She never has been jealous of Fairchild and she never would be. The underlying truth is that as with Bill knowing Julian is all wrong for her, Briar knows that no matter what Bill thinks or feels about Adriana, no matter how deeply he loves the woman, in the long run, Adriana is not the person Bill should settle down with. Bill finally finding his voice again breaks into Briar's thoughts.

"I guess that no matter the excuses, how good the reasons, nothing justifies or explains away hurting you. Not being around to talk or be there if you needed support. All I can say, Briar, is I am very sorry. Hurting you was never my intention. You have every reason to be angry."

Briar chews on her lower lip then rubs the fingers of one hand across them as if to sooth them. "Despite what you think, I'm not angry. Just very hurt. I thought we were friends yet you totally shut me out without a word. Yes, I missed your company, being able to confide in you, lending you an ear whenever you needed one. But you know, much of my life has been spent without that sort of comaraderie. The deepest cut is that you couldn't even be bothered telling me you needed some space to think. That you needed some solitude. Would have been so easy. Taken only a moment in person or to write it in a letter. But no. Nothing in person. Not a single word in writing. Not even bothering to send someone else to tell me you needed some time. Was our friendship that superficial to you? Or too much of a burden?"

Briar stands up, sighing deeply. "No, don't bother answering that. I suppose it really doesn't matter in the grand scheme of things."

Briar moves near the window that looks out onto the street below but while she appears to be watching the people going about their business, she doesn't even see them. She hears Bill stirring behind her and then he comes into her peripheral vision, standing at her side, shifting from one foot to the other and trying to figure out what to do with his hands.

"I do have to answer though. You can't verbally slap me in the face like that then take it back. You are my friend, Briar. One of my best. I don't know why I did what I did. I couldn't think straight. Still can't."

Bill moves closer and puts a hand on Briar's shoulder, exerting gentle pressure until she turns to face him. "I know it doesn't seem it and you'll probably not believe me, but in addition to everything else, I was also worried about you. Worried that someone would reveal your true identity. Worried that you'd vanish like Adriana. Worried about you marrying Valentine."

Briar cuts him off. "One less thing for you to give yourself an ulcer over."

Briar shrugs off Bill's hand and returns to the easy chair. "I still love him. I think I always shall in some way. Being in love with a person doesn't mean that person is the one to commit to for life. You saw that between Julian and me and now I do as well. You don't want to hear this but I'm saying it anyway, it applies to your own life as well. I just wish you could see it."

Before Bill can reply, Briar gets an odd look on her face. She jumps up and rushes into the bedroom and goes straight to the bathroom, slamming the door shut behind her. As she makes her mad dash, another strong wave of nausea hastening her all the more, Briar thinks to herself, "Damn! Not now! Damn, damn, damn!"

Whack and Thud
Author: Vera Delgety
Date: 08-06-03 23:10

Now tied with Slytherin, Vera was pleased. She and Toby were doing pretty good up until she let the quaffle go into enemy hands. Vera had attempted at knocking it off course with a bludger but missed it only by a few inches!

She gave a mumbled curse. But her little act had backfired. The bludger headed toward Tempest and Alexis Black whacked the bludger back Vera's way as to rescue Tempest. Not having any time to react, Vera was struck in the gut with the same bludger. The hit knocked her off her broom and she hit the ground with a thud.

Madam Hooch raced over to see if she was alright. Vera staggered to her feet holding her stomach. "I'm fine, I'm fine!" She groaned. And after calling her broom she whizzed back onto the game.

Vera could feel that the blow had broken a rib or two, but she played on!

Saturday in the Cottage
Author: Professor Belladonna Sinistra
Date: 08-07-03 00:26

"Good morning?"

"Good afternoon, I think. It was cloudy last night, so I don't know why you're so tired. Working hard on the textbooks, Bella?"

Bella Sinistra dropped on her living room floor, a feat made much easier due to the fact that the center of the room was composed of heavy cushioning surrounded by a table.

"However did you guess? I'm worried about my eyes giving out. I thought recovering from an illness meant rest. Damn me for being the typical ex-Ravenclaw overachiever. Twinkle, an espresso in a regular coffee mug. Black with a bit of firewhiskey added. If you spill it, just make another mug and don't hurt yourself."

She pulled herself up and straightened her shirt and jeans before shrugging about her coffee addiction. Really, when it was just her and Liam, both of them preferred to dress like Muggles. It was comfortable and casual. Truthfully, for an heiress, she had rather common tastes. Well, thick carpets called for bare feet and her mother was not around to criticize.

"So, we're missing the Quidditch game, not that I'm interested in seeing Slytherin or Hufflepuff. Afternoon at home, n'est ce pas?"

"Mais oui. I despise Slytherins. Oh, they are horrible. I had to fight to keep myself from taking away points because I couldn't stand their attitude or their way of picking on those who couldn't take care of themselves. Nasty little Malfoy. Truth be told, I wouldn't mind if the whole family got sent away. One of the few things I don't miss about teaching."

"I agree with that. Twinkle should be bringing lunch soon after your coffee. I thought the chicken Marsala that was left over from dinner last night. In a pasta mood?"

Bella nodded before sipping her coffee. It would be a long, lazy Saturday for once. She needed it.

Crash and Goal
Author: Bronwyn Dewhurst
Date: 08-07-03 08:52

Bronwyn watched in silence as Vera climbed back onto her broom and soared into the air to join her teammates as the game continued. "Delgety's all right!" the Hufflepuff commentator shouted, and her announcement was met by a round of cheers.

Meanwhile, Tempest zoomed through the sky with the quaffle but lost the ball during an attempted exchange with one of her fellow chasers. It slipped from her fingertips and started to descend to the ground, only to be retrieved once again by Megan. The chaser spun her broom around sharply and darted in the opposite direction. She reached the goal hoops after an impressive burst of speed and arched her arm back to toss the ball through the center circle. Unfortunately, Pyrrhus threw his arms up for the block and stopped the quaffle from entering.

"No goal!" Bronwyn shouted, watching as Megan quickly high-tailed it after the Slytherin currently in possession of the quaffle. It was Isolde, who wove her way through the pack of players in the air. Finding her way semi-blocked at one point, the chaser rammed the Hufflepuff flying alongside her, causing that person's broomstick to spiral out of control.

Michael came crashing to the ground with a mighty thud, and his broomstick nearly broke in two. Madam Hooch's shrill whistle sounded and she shouted, "Foul!" She touched down to check on Michael and his broomstick, and when it seemed that both were in order to continue the game, the Hufflepuff and the referee kicked off for the penalty shot.

Pyrrhus readied himself at the goal hoops, while Michael lined up in preparation for the attempted shot. He had already made one goal today, would he make another?

"He shoots, he scores!" cried out Bronwyn, as Michael successfully threw the quaffle over Pyrrhus' shoulder and into one of the hoops. "Hufflepuff leads by 10!"

Taipei, Taiwan: On Assignment
Author: Ethan Somerset
Date: 08-07-03 09:48

The streets of Taipei were bustling with people leaving work for their homes when Ethan stepped out of his hotel and joined the crowd of pedestrians. He had apparated to Taiwan only a few short hours ago, leaving Voldemort's lair for the first time in nearly a month. With a diversion in place set to distract Dierna, Ethan was free to move about the world and aid the Dark Lord as he was designed to do.

His first assignment involved meeting with a small group of dark wizards rumored to be living in the capital city. While Voldemort already had a small army gathered among his death eaters and the young witches and wizards like Ethan, he still desired more allies for the dark cause. A battle was brewing between Voldemort and those opposed to him, and soon it would be an all out war. The more wizards he had on his side, the better.

Ethan stepped off of the curb, pushed with the masses of Muggles crossing the street. Upon reaching the other side, he ducked into the open doorway of a meat market and pulled a crinkled piece of parchment from his jeans pocket. He read the instructions and the address to refresh his memory, folded the parchment and stuffed it back into his pocket before heading back into the throng.

He walked a few short blocks to the Ta An district and sought out a soup shop he knew to be somewhere in the area. It was known to be frequented by both Muggles and wizards alike, although the Muggles had no idea it catered to two very different sorts of people. The shop, simply called T'aipei, stood at the very back of a dead end road. Neon signs flashed above it and on many of the buildings around it, but it wasn't quite dark enough outside for the fantastic lights to truly take effect.

Slipping inside, Ethan took note of the various patrons of the soup shop. As to be expected, most everyone wore Muggle clothes, even the wizards. A few of the bolder ones wore robes and drew stares and giggles from some of the Muggles.

Ethan's sapphire eyes scanned the room for a moment until they finally settled on the man behind the soup counter. He was told by Morgain that this man was a wizard but that his allegiance was not with any dark cause.

Taking the few steps to the back of the shop, Ethan waited for a customer to finish an order and then spoke with the man. "Excuse me," he said in English, as he did not speak Taiwanese. "I'm looking for Kep-Tian. Would you happen to know where I can find him?"

The man studied him for a moment before answering, "Come with me." He stepped out from behind the counter and led Ethan to a door he previously hadn't seen. Following the man through the door, Ethan stepped into a narrow hallway which had one door on each side and one at the very back. The proprietor of the shop pointed at the back door and said, "You'll find your man through there," and then he left Ethan alone in the hallway.

A dusty light bulb flickered ominously overhead. Ethan ran a hand through his hair and approached the door, giving it a slight knock before letting himself inside. He found four sets of dark eyes staring at him when he shut the door behind him.

The room was small and dark, much like the small corridor outside. A similarly plain lamp hung over a green card table, at which the four patrons sat. The three men and the woman watched him silently and incredulously for a few short moments until one of the men spoke. He stood up slowly, abandoning his cards on the table. A cigar dangled between his lips.

"Who are you?" he asked in English.

"My name is Ethan Somerset," Ethan started, smiling, "and I have a proposition for you."

The One, Two Punch
Author: Pyrrhus
Date: 08-07-03 18:29

Py makes a fist with one hand and smacks it into the palm of the other, angry with himself for letting another goal get past him. Glowering, he repositions himself as the Slytherin chasers take possession of the quaffle and begin deftly working it to the other end of the pitch.

When Hufflepuff manages a steal, Py leans low over his broom, getting set for another attempt at scoring. Something slams into Py's right side and before he can recover, he's hit from his left. Momentarily dazed, his broom does a slow spiral toward the ground.

The announcer, Bronwyn Dewhurst excitedly proclaims, "Cauldwell scores! Hufflepuff up by twenty!"

Shaking his head to clear it, the sharp stings from the bludgers still smarting, Py pulls his broom into a climb and retakes his spot in front of the three hoops. Double teamed by the Hufflepuff beaters. A Slytherin style move if there ever was one.

Thinking Ahead
Author: Hermione Granger
Date: 08-07-03 19:44

"Are you about ready for your O.W.L. exams, Ginny?" Hermione asked, turning away from the action on the Pitch to look at her friend. Harry sat on Ginny's other side, and like Ron, who sat on Hermione's right, his eyes were plastered on the players in green and yellow.

Ginny raised an incredulous eyebrow and exclaimed, "Ready? Hardly!" But at Hermione's scolding look, she quickly added, "But I'm working on it. I'll certainly be ready when the time comes."

"It just never hurts to be ready early," Hermione said. "I've already started preparing for the N.E.W.T.s."

"I don't know how you'll ever retain it over the summer break, Hermione," Ron cut in, watching as the Hufflepuffs' strength and skill on the field vastly improved from the very beginnings of the match.

"If I keep up with my notes and readings, I'll be fine," Hermione stated matter-of-factly.

Ron tore his gaze from the field to look her in the eye. "Summer's for rest and relaxation, Hermione, not studying for N.E.W.T.s!"

Hermione rolled her eyes and said, "Just you wait and see how stressful things will be for you next year, Ron. You'll wish you'd gotten an early start over the summer break."

"Speaking of summer break," Harry interjected, "what are we all going to do?"

"You can come to the Burrow," Ginny supplied, and Ron nodded his head.

"Or you guys can come to Sirius' place, given he's actually back from his job by then," Harry said.

"Just what exactly is he doing again?" Hermione asked.

Harry shook his head. "I don't really know. I asked, but he was pretty vague about it."

"Something secret, no doubt," Ron observed quietly.

Their attentions turned back to the game, but thoughts of summer and summer plans lingered on their minds.

Educated Speech
Author: Coco Nutt
Date: 08-07-03 20:16

Coco chose to forgo the game today in favor of taking Pea down to Hagrid's to see Fang. As the three enjoy the early spring day, even though it is still a little nippy out, Coco does her usual talking to the animals as if they are people.

"Yer know, Oi am uhroun' lorts of folks wot speak awl proper loike. Iffin Oi'm gorna grow up an git one uv those Wizardin' jobs, Oi shud learn ta talk better, roight? Sound all edumacated loike."

Pea and Fang sit down and stare at Coco as if deeply contemplating her words then they bark in unison and scarper off behind Hagrid's hut. Coco follows only to find them both earnestly chewing on something important looking. Coco takes the item from them and looks for the place where it belongs while scolding, "Yer gorna git me in Barney wif Hagrid!"

Just then the gentle giant rounds the corner, scratches his head and asks, "Wot's git in Barney mean?"

"Allo, 'Agrid. Barney means Barney Rubble wot means trouble. Sumthin' wot's called Cockney rhymin' slang. Oi haint Cockney meself but ware I live there be quite uh few wot retired there, an them toorists in summer. Me Papa Wal's partner be one az wail."

Hagrid nods sagely as if Coco is giving him some great philosophical insight then he motions for her to follow him into his hut. "Puttin' on tha kettle. Wanna cuppa? An some sugar biscuits. Made'em meself."

Smiling happily, Coco trots as fast as she can behind Hagrid with Fang and Pea hot on her own heels.

Durmstrang Institute: Toil and Trouble
Author: Michael Turin
Date: 08-07-03 21:22

Michael freezes for a split second. "Deletrius," he says, pointing his wand to the smoky words hovering in the air. "Who is it?" he asks, then quickly levitates the boiling, fume-emitting cauldron to a far corner. "The headmaster. Let me in." Michael says some things he knows many people would be shocked to hear from him. He erects a shied around the cauldron, blocking its fumes from spreading. Michael opens the door.

"Good afternoon, headmaster. I was not expecting you. Apologies for the delay, I was making the place presentable."

"Indeed." The headmaster, Rasputin, brushes past Michael and looks around. Michael has the uneasy feeling that the headmaster is looking for something.

"What is that smell?" he asks. Unfortunately, Michael had not had the time to clear the air.

"A potion. I'm giving a practical test in potion identification to the sixth years on Monday." Rasputin regards Michael for a moment, "I see."

"Merdriot has said you have been unkind to him."

Michael scoffs. "The man is an idiot, blabbing secret plans in public, where anyone could hear him! I won't be associated with such stupidity."

Again, Rasputin regarded Michael. "Fair comment. That is all. Good afternoon, Nativitch."

"Afternoon, headmaster." The man left and Michael feels decidedly uneasy. Can he suspect? Or worse, does Merdroit suspect? Things would get very complicated if they did.

Michael fills glass with the potion and swallows it gagging. Ugh! It is almost as bad as polyjuice! He needed to think quickly, he needed to know if any of his "colleagues" suspect. He had to do so without asking. "Mon doux! Ce n'est pas bon."

Sick
Author: Fritz Schnackenpfefferhausen
Date: 08-08-03 08:54

More than a little bit sleepy, Fritz dives back into his bed and buries himself beneath a pile of heavy comforters. He's sick with a sore throat and a cold, which is never fun and is especially disappointing when it occurs on a Quidditch match Saturday.

Although Fritz's home team isn't on the field today, he would still like to view the game to see who will continue to the championship game.

Fritz can't believe how much he's grown to like the sport, since he's never really held much interest for sports of any kind. His preference as always been for books and chemistry experiments, while other boys his age have always preferred to play ball games outside with their friends.

Lacking in even the energy involved in reading his Potions text, Fritz adjusts his pillow behind his head, rolls over until he's comfortable and drifts off into a restless sleep, coughing, sniffling and groaning at irregular intervals.

Serious Thoughts
Author: Severus Snape
Date: 08-08-03 09:53

Snape sat among his fellow staff in the faculty box at the Quidditch Pitch, having quite enjoyed the start of the game when Slytherin seemed to outplay its opponent, Hufflepuff. Things had changed since the very beginnings of the game, however, and Hufflepuff now led the match by twenty points. Mere as these points were, Slytherin was already looking discouraged.

Scowling, Snape's mind drifted from the game to his own turmoil. He knew Voldemort wanted to kill him. He knew that there was little he could do to remedy this, and that he had in as much failed Dumbledore too. But, a kernel of an idea had planted itself in his mind during Slytherin's last Quidditch match--a plan to return to Voldemort's good favor once more and to continue his duties as spy for Dumbledore...

It would be extremely risky, and it would involve the aid of at least one other. Snape had yet to voice his thoughts to anyone at all, particularly since he didn't know whether he would ultimately choose to go this route. Despite his intentions, things could still go very wrong and all would have been for naught. He wanted to first weigh his options, though delaying too long could be equally bad...

Snape's attention was torn from his thoughts momentarily as an event on the field drew gasps from the audience. It seemed that the Hufflepuff seeker, Miss Abbott, had seen the snitch. She tilted her broomstick towards the earth and shot straight down like pelting rain with Malfoy at her heels. At last minute, she pulled the front of her broomstick up so that it was parallel to the ground, casting an impish and most unHufflepuff-like smirk over her shoulder at the Slytherin seeker. Malfoy nearly bit the hard turf, straining to control his broomstick as it quavered dangerously.

Frowning sternly, Snape shook his mane of greasy, black hair and listened to Miss Dewhurst recount Malfoy's near crash to the ground and Abbott's use of the Wronski Feint maneuver. As the game continued without further incident, at least for the time being, Snape slipped back into his thoughts, this time pondering the mysterious disappearance of Professor Somerset.

The former Defense Against the Dark Arts professor had often nerved Snape to no end with his always cheerful, always pleasant countenance. It had been nauseating at times, particularly when Somerset never seemed to take the hint that Snape wasn't interested in friendly conversation with him. Snape had, at least at first, honestly thought that Somerset would stick around for the entire year and for many years after, denying him the job he has always wanted but will likely never get as well as putting an end to that position's one-year-only curse.

As Snape had often avoided conversation with Somerset when possible, he did not witness the other man's change in personality quite to the extent that some of the other staff and certainly the students had. The Potions master wondered what could have brought on the change, but his mind didn't linger too long on this thought because the Slytherin fans started to roar with excitement as young Miss Black tore across the field with the quaffle in her arms...