As Lee Jordan used to say...
Author: Albus Dumbledore
Date: 03-14-04 08:16
"It's a great day for QUIDDITCH!"
The sun is shining as brightly as it can, for the middle of winter. However, there is still a certain brittle crispness to the air that tells one it is winter. I am very glad to be wearing my warmest woolens. Somehow, Viktor and a team of House Elves have managed to magick all the snow off the pitch and out of the stands. There is a small and newly-formed range of mountains around the stadium. I see that Londy has reserved the entire front row of the Staff Box for me and my guests. I suppose there are a few perquisites to being Headmaster. Several of the staff are already in place and the House Boxes are slowly filling up as the students straggle in. Yes! It's a GREAT day for Quidditch.
Nevvyn and his three Toms are the first of my guests to arrive. The lads have completely surrounded a fifth person, wearing a slouch-brimmed hat and dark glasses. "Good morning!" I greet the group. "And who is your friend?" I ask of the Toms.
"You don't know who this is?" one of them pipe up. "This is none other than…"
Nevvyn gives the lad a sign and interrupts. "This is my friend, John. He lives in Hogsmeade!" Nevvyn leans close and whispers, "Actually, you have met him before. He is Captain Electron, but he goes about dressed like that so he will not be mobbed by his fans."
I nod in acknowledgement. "Welcome… John. I hope you enjoy the match."
Minutes later, Sirius arrives with Drucilla Eternal on his arm. I greet Sirius warmly and introductions are made all around. "Ah, yes! You're the young lady who is working with Arthur Weasley at the Ministry. Pleased to make your acquaintance."
A hush falls over the crowd as Bronwyn Dewhurst begins her opening announcements. We all hurry back to our seats. Sirius strategically takes the end of the row, allowing Drucilla to sit next to me. "Do you know much about the game, Miss Eternal?" I ask of her. "Today's match should be quite interesting. I understand that both Houses have been working on some new strategies. I am anxious to see what they might have to show us."
Ready and Waiting
Author: Viktor Krum
Date: 03-14-04 10:04
It still seems strange to Viktor to be out on the pitch for a match but not wearing Quidditch game robes although there is the advantage of being able to bundle up better to ward off the whipping wind. He carries out the case containing the quaffle, the bludgers, and the snitch, then waits for both the teams to emerge from the locker rooms and for both team captains to join him so that the came may officially be started.
Great Day for Quidditch
Author: Lawrence Masterson
Date: 03-14-04 10:14
Lawrence was up early and bustling about the room. Both Arley and Seb were up early as well, the three Hufflepuff quidditch players were chattering lightly as they continued to get ready for the game.
"Hey Guys! Wanna see what I hid for Vera?" He questioned and the two were eagerly at his side as he pulled the boxes out from their hiding place. "This I picked up in Sydney when we went over summer break." He opened it to reveal the necklace with the broom stick charm.
"And this was something I had found at Diagon Alley before we came to school this year." He opened the ring box and they'd see a claddagh ring resting on black velvet, an emerald resting where the heart is on the ring.
Lawrence got cheers and grins from the two boys and the three continued to get ready for the game.
Lawrence sat in the locker room near Arley and Seb, eyes focused on the captain. His hand curled about his broomstick, eyes darting toward Vera, a grin resting upon his features.
Soon it was time for them to take the field and the Hufflepuff team headed out on to the pitch to meet up with Ravenclaw.
Butterflies
Author: Sebastian Sjoblom
Date: 03-14-04 10:25
Sebastian groans, fumbling to unlace his Quidditch boots so he can pull them on. He glances up from the locker room bench. Hannah Abbott is silhouetted in the double door of the locker room, exiting onto the pitch with a single triumphant wave of her arm. The cheers of fans thunder in the stands overhead.
They're about to start and I haven't even gotten my boots on! he thinks with dismay. It was enough that after Lawrence had shown him the necklace and ring for Vera, he'd had to go back to the dormitory for his Quidditch boots. (How he'd left them in the dormitory, he hasn't the faintest idea.) And now, after turning the dormitory upside down and realizing after much frenzied searching that they had somehow ended up tucked under a toilet bowl in the boys' bathroom, the damn boots were going to make him late for his first game.
"Come on, Sebastian, forget the boots!" Arley urges. The rest of the team lines up on the grass. Two figures among them lean in for a kiss. Vera and Lawrence, of course, he thinks.
Sebastian tosses the unwieldy leather boots aside, jogging out onto the pitch in his socks, one black and the other yellow. He falls in beside Trey and Arley.
"One doesn't need the boots for Quidditch!" he announces with a ragged smile to his teammates, and gives his toes a half-hearted wiggle. His socks soak through quickly, and in hindsight, with the terminal members of his feet well on their way to numbness, he wishes that he'd cast Impervius on his socks beforehand. His sweater's on backwards, too, he realizes from the tag scratching his collarbone, but the fans can't tell, thankfully.
He tightens his grip on his trusty old Cleansweep, straightening his robes and grinning to hide the anxiety pulling every molecule of him into a knot, starting somewhere around his solar plexus. All the practicing they'd done that Thursday seems to have disappeared. All of his and Arley's plays slip his mind, for a second, but Arley's voice grounds him and brings him back to the game.
"Got butterflies in your stomach?" Arley asks.
Sebastian looks bewildered at his fellow Chaser.
"You nervous?" Arley rephrases it.
"Oh, ja," Sebastian says frankly. "Of course." He looks up for the first time at the legions of students peopling the stands, and takes a deep breath. His anxiety retreats at the sight of at least a quarter of the stands proudly displaying yellow and black. Bronwyn's voice echoes across the pitch, announcing the team lineups.
He hears his name, and the butterflies resurge in full force. He exhales in one hard breath, leaving a quick-fading cloud. He feels faint, his face apple-cheeked from embarrassment and the December air, as Hannah releases her firm grip of the other captain's hand--Grease-Biddyson or something like that--and the balls are released.
His reaction is delayed for a moment, the reality of the game not quite dawning on him, and then his body, unlike his mind, is no longer anchored by nervousness to the ground. He's on his broom, running over the mechanics of each play a thousand times in his head as he robotically follows the Quaffle. The butterflies fade.
Preliminary Announcements
Author: Bronwyn Dewhurst
Date: 03-14-04 10:47
A few more than the ordinary staff and regular guests, such as Nevvyn and his Toms, filled the faculty box. One was Sirius Black, of whom Brownyn of course knew though had never met personally before. He looked much better than she'd ever seen (but mugshots usually are quite unflattering), smiling almost lovingly at the woman seated next to him. Another was a guest of Nevvyn and the Brownies, but Bronwyn couldn't quite figure out who he resembled.
She shrugged and redirected her attention to center field, where Viktor stood and awaited the Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw captains. They came forthwith, and Bronwyn clicked on the magical microphone and shouted, "Hello Hogwarts!"
She was met by thunderous applause and waited for it to die down before continuing, "It's time for Quidditch! Today's match is between Hufflepuff..."
She paused to allow for cheers.
"...and Ravenclaw!"
After the stadium quieted, Bronwyn announced the players. "For Hufflepuff: Seeker and Captain, Hannah Abbott! Keeper, Desdemona Diamond! Beaters, Vera Delgety and Lawrence Masterson! and Chasers Arlington Montgomery, Sebastian Sjoblom and Trey Wolf!"
She beamed at the sight of her friends and inwardly wished them all well. Desi looked positively horrified to be out there, but Bronwyn knew she'd do great!
"And for Ravenclaw: Seeker, Emma Crusher! Keeper, Rolan Boyd! Beaters, Coco Nutt and Fritz Schack-en-pfef-fer-hausen (whew, that's a tough one!), Chaser and Captain, Kody Reese-Emerson, and Chasers Ariana Maison and Alden Mitchel!"
Hannah and Kody walked to center field, where they listened to Viktor give the standard "play fair" speech. Then, they shook hands, mounted their brooms and cast off into the sky with their teammates.
Viktor released the balls and the game began.
Nervous but Managing
Author: Kody
Date: 03-14-04 10:58
Kody does his best not to let Hannah Abbott, a seasoned member of the Hufflepuff team, see his jitters but as they stand by Viktor, ready to kick off with the release of the quaffle, Kody isn't sure he's successful. To Kody, everything happens quicker than a heartbeat. Viktor's sent all the balls up and off and Kody is on his broom soaring to reach the quaffle first. Somehow it's in his hand and Kody has a moment of panic, "Now what do I do!?" but then he sees both Ariana and Alden and the panic passes. Kody's broom zips forward as he easily passes to Alden who in turn sends it to Ariana. The three continue passing the quaffle, moving ever closer to the hoops.
Knights Walpurgis - the Newcomer
Author: Nathaniel Hawkins
Date: 03-14-04 12:09
Nathaniel adjusted the bandage on his arm. The wound would not heal properly and he suspected that bitch Bellatrix had used some kind of magic athame when she cut him during the spell. When he had time he would have to try some kind of counter-curse to purge the dregs of the spell from his system. However there was no time to feel sorry for himself or debate the finer points of why he was really beginning to hate Bellatrix.
Instead now he had to deal with some chit of a girl who thought she possessed the right to join the ancient brotherhood of the Knights Walpurgis. He figured the day's events would probably be over fairly quickly – by sunset he could bury her body under the nearest hill and get back to his counter curse.
He pulled a blood red cloak from a large cedar chest and threw it around his shoulders. Then he pulled another cloak out, this one less ornate and white. He checked the wool and frowned. On the shoulder there was a small brownish spot of something which resembled old blood. Oh well, he thought, it had been a while since the last acolyte failed the test.
He apparated to the small shack where he had left the woman, Appollonia. On top of the rest of the day's irritations, it was now raining a steady drizzle. Nathaniel pulled up his hood and removed the magical lock from the door. Inside stood the woman, who appeared to be ready as if she knew he would come. Others might be impressed, but it took a lot to surprise Nathaniel – unless you were Bellatrix Lestrange. Appollonia was a slight woman, tall but slender with auburn hair and hazel eyes. She was the image of what as an Alchemist he would describe as a Wood Witch. They were usually at one with nature and bore careful watching.
"Put this on," he snarled, thoroughly bored with it all already.
Surprisingly enough the woman didn't reply; she just accepted the garment and put it around her shoulders and pulled up her hood.
"Follow me," he said, turning around and marching off across a broad expanse of grass. They neared some buildings, set into the background of an old forest. Before a large stone stood another man also wearing a red cloak and the symbols of the Knights upon his cuirass.
"Appollonia, this man will be your opponent during the upcoming trials. His name is Bryon de Lacey. Bryon, this woman is Appollonia Solon and she had requested the right to join the Knights Walpurgis."
De Lacey scoffed. "With all respect, Nathaniel, this is a woman. We have not accepted a woman into the order since 1765. I was hoping for something resembling a challenge, instead I see nothing before me but an easy step upwards in my promotion."
Nathaniel laughed. "At least give her a chance, Bryon. I wasn't planning on digging any graves until at least after dinner."
Surprisingly, a Quidditch Machiavelli, or: Goodbye Butterflies
Author: Sebastian Sjoblom
Date: 03-14-04 13:01
Sebastian ducks beneath the Ravenclaw Chasers, craning his neck up to watch the Quaffle. Their passing is solid, but Sebastian knows it's not as solid as it could be, and he recalls a play that he and Arley devised together, tailored to just such a situation.
"Ignatia Wildsmith!" he shouts, making eye contact with Arley and pointing to the captain. They got the names for their plays from Sebastian's Chocolate Frog card collection, and "Ignatia Wildsmith" happened to be the name of the witch whose card they'd pulled out.
Upon hearing this, Arley lines himself up with the Ravenclaw captain, falling in just behind him to catch an errant Quaffle, should the pass be off by just a few inches. Sebastian marks another Chaser--Albin Mitchum or something like that--and flies close beside him.
Trey belatedly zips in to guard the hoops, making lopsided figure eights near them. Trey has a good eye, but isn't exactly the steadiest flyer, so Sebastian had designated him for the easiest role in the play. Desi looks disgruntled at having her job hefted from her by the young Chaser, but Sebastian reminds her with a meaningful glance that the extra help couldn't hurt.
Too late, Sebastian realizes that this play leaves the last Ravenclaw Chaser--a blonde fifth year girl named Maison--unguarded. Though he and Arley are guarding Mitchum and the captain closely, making it hard for them to pass, this gives the girl the opportunity to make a blitz for the goalposts if she can see an opening between Desi and Trey. Sebastian bites his lip and hopes she doesn't see how easy a goal would be.
Just then, he sees something bulky and black coming at him from the corner of his eye. The Bludger closes in, fast and ruthless, barreling toward him and Mitchum. Vera and Lawrence are too far away to stop it, and one of the Ravenclaw Beaters, the German boy, expects it to hit Sebastian, apparently, so he doesn't move. Self-preservation kicks in, though, and Sebastian pulls his broom up, hard.
The Ravenclaw Chaser, on the other hand, is caught unawares, and the Bludger roughly knocks him aside. Sebastian can't help feeling a twinge of pity for the bruised boy, but right now, for once, he's single-minded. There's no time to worry about others' welfare or how he can't feel his toes or what he'll have for dinner this evening, he tells himself. He dives down after Maison, planning to snatch the Quaffle from Ravenclaw faster than you can say "victory."
The wind blows back Sebastian's hair dramatically, making him look a little more intimidating than usual, in his opinion, and he feels a flush of pride in his team, though not one goal has been scored by either side. We've prepared an arsenal of plays for the Chasers, and we're all upperclassmen and friends, except Trey, but he is pretty good anyway, he thinks confidently. He shouldn't be counting his eggs before they hatch, he knows, but he just wishes he'd bet a few Galleons on Hufflepuff last night.
Nero
Author: Ethan Somerset
Date: 03-14-04 14:10
Ethan pushed away the bowl of porridge he had received for breakfast, and leaned his head up against the cold, stone wall behind him. He shut his eyes and expelled a long, weary sigh. Nearly three weeks he had been in Azkaban, and though he knew he deserved to be confined in his cell for all eternity, Ethan almost felt as if he couldn't live another day in such utter tedium.
Everyday, everything was the same. A guard would come in the morning, pass Ethan a bowl of porridge or oatmeal, and wander away to feed the rest of the cell block. Ethan would take his breakfast on the floor with his back up against the wall, the same way he took all of his meals. The stone floor wasn't any harder than the firm cot he slept on, and he didn't have a table or chair in the cell to use for his meals.
An hour later, the guard would return to collect the used dishes and wouldn't return again until lunch when the process repeated. Lunch was by far the most interesting meal of the day because it varied the most. On some days there would be sandwiches, on others soups. Dinner was always a mysterious gruel of some sort, and Ethan started to think that it was made up of all the leftovers from breakfast and lunch, ground together. Sometimes it had texture to it, but most of the time it was more liquid than not.
Ethan was never let out of his cell. There was nothing to do except stare into space or at the ground or at the wall. The other prisoners never spoke to him, and they hardly spoke to each other. Azakban was a very dull place, and rightly so. Ethan thought for sure he'd go mad, even without the dementors there.
Ethan opened his eyes and strained to see in the darkness at the sound of squeaky wheels coming down the corridor. They'd squeak every few paces and fall into silence as the cart stopped while the guard collected the breakfast dishes from the other inmates. When at last the guard stopped in front of Ethan's cell, the ex-auror stood up, crossed the few paces in the cell to get to the gate and passed his bowl, spoon and cup through the bars.
The guard turned back around since the hallway ended there, squeaking the whole way down the corridor. When the sounds couldn't be heard anymore, Ethan's neighbor spoke to him for the first time.
"What are you in for?"
Ethan sat down on his cot and looked at the face staring at him through the bars of his cell. The man was olive-skinned with dark, shaggy hair and black, piercing eyes. He wasn't very tall or skinny, but wasn't terribly short and fat.
"Don't you talk? What are you in for?" the wizard asked again.
"Murder," Ethan answered flatly. He said nothing more because he had no desire to strike up a friendship with any of these men. They weren't like him, in most ways. He hadn't meant to become evil. He hadn't meant to kill Taz-Marah. Or had he? He couldn't really remember...
"Me too. The name's Nero." The wizard held out his hand.
Ethan looked at it, then at Nero's face. Then, Ethan got up and shook the man's hand.
"I'm Ethan."
Knights Walpurgis: Gladiator?
Author: Dierna ní Cíaran
Date: 03-14-04 18:37
"With a brilliant observant mind like that, I see I don't stand a chance." I quip sarcastically at the man whom I'm to outwit. He is large and muscular, and has a look of bloodlust in his eye. Apparently, his sense of humour is rather lacking.
"I'll break you in half with my own hands, girl." He snarls, sounding more like a rabid bear than a man. I give him a bored look. Really though I'm taking stock not only of this man, but the crowd that has gathered to watch the fun. It brings to mind the Colosseum and gladiators of ancient Rome. I turn my attention back to Nathaniel when he starts to explain.
"That structure is the Tomb. You must find your way through, avoid the obstacles and outwitting the other. No magic, we know you can do it with a wand. We want to see you think your way out of trouble. The first one through wins the round."
I toss my wand to the man - it is just a tool, after all. I long ago learned not to rely on magic. Such a reliance can be crippling. De Lacey does the same, then charges after me.
***
Inside the "Tomb" it is damp and dark. I can hear the heavy footsteps behind me, betraying my opponent position. He stops, trying to track me. But my footfalls are as soft as his are loud. My eyes, now adjusted to the darkness, reveal details on the ground. In a passage to the right, a smear of what must be blood is smeared against the wall. It looks as if someone was injured then tired backtracking to safety. I decide against that passage.
I continue straight, listening for De Lacey, or any other dangers. I put a foot down and the sound of the floor is different. Quickly I step back again. A false floor? How much weight can it hold? Looking around for options I notice a rope hanging from the roof. Could I swing across? Its impossible to tell how strong the rope is- or how far it will swing.
I grasp the rope and use it to climb up the wall. As I suspected, wooden plants criss-cross the roof. They look solid enough to take my weight, so I start to crawl along it. From here I can see the exit and much of the "Tomb." I crawl along the cross-beams as far as I can, toward the door, then slide down a support pole, to the ground. I know the door is in a straight line in front of me, but the "Tomb" doesn't go straight . . . and then I hear, coming up behind me, the heavy footsteps and hard breathing of Bryon de Lacey.
