A Confrontation Overdue
Author: Santhea Fennally
Date: 09-20-03 02:47

Wednesday morning again. Which god had decided to torture her every Wednesday with what must be the most boring subject imaginable. Arithmancy. No, she had to admit that History of Magic was even worse. Well, that thought didn't raise her spirits one bit.

For the last two weeks, she had been one of the main topics of conversations through the whole school, especially in Slytherin. Apparently, the little incident at the Three Broomsticks had been witnessed by half her house, and at first everywhere she went she heard things like, "Oh dear, lovers' quarrel" or "the prince and princess have fallen out". Very soon however, people had stopped these comments. Even Pansy Parkinson had been quiet over the past few days.

And Malfoy was the worst of them all. But she had even managed to silence his stupid, "Give love a second chance". Now he seemed to be avoiding her at all costs. Whenever they met by accident between classes or in the Common Room they would glare daggers at each other. People had actually started to place bets - who would explode first?

---

She had reached the Common Room without any incident, not counting the fearful looks of a group of Ravenclaw first-years. Who did they think she was? The devil? She should have known her luck wouldn't hold. Because as she entered the room she found herself in the company of none other than... Draco Malfoy. Cursing herself she pretended not to see him and made for her dormitory. But Mr Malfoy apparently wouldn't let her get away so easy. "Look who we have here. It's the Slytherin Princess. Why Santhea, you look rather pale..." The familiar, and much loathed, smirk was firmly in place. Oh she hated him.

"Oh it's ferret boy. Aren't you supposed to be somewhere else? Playing with your little gorilla friends?" She smiled to herself as she saw the already pale face turn white with anger. "How dare you?" Her smile was fueling his anger and his right hand was in his pocket, fishing out his wand.

"Oh right. Only feeling strong with either your two bullies around or the little wooden stick in your hand. Tell me, Malfoy. Is there something you try to compensate with that?" No one ever sneered at him and he would certainly not allow her to be the first. "You'll pay for this, Fennally!"

"Oh yeah, how? Are you going to prove to the whole school what you really are? A heartless, coldblooded monster. Go on, tell them about Stuart! Show them all that there is no human being in you!" Curse him, she hadn't meant to cry, least of all in front of him. But now tears of anger and sorrow were streaming down her face. She turned towards the dormitories again, but before she could make two steps he was beside her, his hand closing about her wrist, pulling her back against him.

Later, she would never be able to explain how she came to be in his arms suddenly. Her hands were drumming against his chest, a high-pitched scream leaving her throat. She collapsed to the floor, drawing him with her. Questions that had haunted her for over a year were tumbling from her lips and she was unable to stop herself. "Why did you leave me? You promised to stay with me! You promised!"

Somewhere at the back of her mind a voice whispered to her that she would never be able to live this down. That Malfoy would use this breakdown against her for the rest of her schooldays, if not longer. But right now she didn't care. All she knew was that there was a shoulder to cry on at last. Someone who held her, someone who didn't tell her off for her tears. Later, Malfoy would use this against her, but here and now he held her tight, apparently too shocked to do anything else.

St. Mungo's: Paying a Quick Visit to Old Friends
Author: Bellatrix Lestrange
Date: 09-20-03 15:19

Bellatrix admired the bubbling potion before her. It had been a long 21 days to brew the polyjuice, and now it was finally ready. She had had to plan carefully, making sure she timed the muggle's disappearance and the finding of the card to coincide with the potion's readiness.

Carefully she poured a draft of the potion and then added the hair she had found in the muggle's house. This part would make or break her trip – she wasn't sure who the hair belonged to. Careful consideration told her it had to either be Dierna ní Cíaran, or Voleta Barret. The question now was which one.

When the potion turned bright yellow, Bellatrix drank the whole thing in one quick swallow. She was not prepared for the reaction and fell to her knees, feeling her insides heaving in protest. A quick moment of panic surged through her, followed by an incredible burning sensation in her stomach. Her skin felt like it was melting. Just as suddenly as it began, it ended, leaving Bellatrix panting with the effort of remaining upright. Carefully she got to her feet and grabbed a mirror. No, she was not Dierna by any stretch of the imagination. The hair must have belonged to Voleta, but she needed to check first. She picked up a copy of the Daily Prophet. It was from a couple of weeks ago Ð and covered the disappearance of the muggle she had been playing with. Near the bottom of the article was a small picture of Voleta, and it matched her present appearance perfectly. Bellatrix sneered. It would be easy to enter St. Mungo's as Voleta, partly because Voleta had once worked there.

Time was passing and she needed to get to St. Mungo's as quickly as possible. She apparated into a small deserted alley way just around the corner from Purge & Dowse. Within seconds she was through the storefront window and into the reception area. Almost immediately she came face to face with Lucius Malfoy and his wife, Narcissa.

"Good to see you, Lucius," she said. "And you, Narcissa."

Lucius merely smiled, albeit a cold, wintry one. "I'd know you anywhere, Bellatrix," Narcissa said, before Lucius could reply. "Must you resort to impersonating Ministry of Magic employees?"

"If it gets the job done, sister dear, why not?" Bellatrix replied. "I don't have all day to stand around here talking. Shall we visit our old friends or not?"

Without waiting for a reply, Bellatrix set a brisk pace towards the fourth floor, which was clearly labeled Spell Damage. The landing at the top of the stairs was quiet, especially after the bustle of the waiting room below. Bellatrix looked for the sign for the Janus Thickey Ward. The door was not locked, so the three entered the room without being stopped.

Bellatrix searched, looking for Frank and Alice Longbottom. They were near the back of the ward, in an area curtained off from view. Even better, thought Bellatrix. The urge to finish what she had started so many years ago was strong, she could feel it burn inside her, just like the polyjuice potion. She wondered exactly how long she had left before she started changing back into herself. Perhaps she would just have to settle for a quick visit, which would be disappointing.

She left Lucius and his wife just inside the door, instead crossing the ward towards the back. As she passed the other beds, she checked the charts. One belonged to a Lockhart, whoever he might be. Curious, she turned to look at the inhabitant nearest to Lockhart, who was at this moment sleeping peacefully. She checked the ward, apart from the Malfoy's and herself there was nobody present.

She came around to the side of the bed to get a better look at the occupant. "Well, well, what do we have here?" she whispered excitedly.

Remus Lupin lay under the covers, eyes shut and breathing the sleep of someone desperate to heal. Bellatrix thought quickly; Remus was supposed to have information regarding the Death Eaters. Without ceremony, Bellatrix pulled her wand out and pointed it at Remus, feeling the familiar surge of pleasure at the thought of imminent death.

"Crucio!" she whispered.

Bellatrix watched as Remus' eye's snapped open the second he was hit with the curse. He began to writhe in pain, his limps thrashing under the sheets with the effort to stay conscious. His eyes began to roll up in his head, and sweat broke out on his forehead. She couldn't resist it, she began to laugh. It was a laugh born of years spent in Azkaban, years uselessly wasted wondering what was going on in the outside world and wishing she was part of it. She laughed, convinced the Malfoy's must think she had finally gone insane.

It was then she realized the polyjuice potion was wearing off.

Career Exploration
Author: Hermione Granger
Date: 09-20-03 16:21

It was late afternoon by the time Hermione received a chance to speak with the Muggle Relations representative, Voleta Barret. Only one other student was hanging around Voleta's table, and he was a Slytherin at that. Hermione ignored the impulse to ask the boy's intentions, since it was well-known that Slytherins and Muggles didn't get along, and she waited patiently for her turn.

After Voleta finished advising a fifth year Ravenclaw student, she beckoned Hermione forward. The sixth year Gryffindor smiled and held out her hand, grasping Voleta's in a firm handshake. "Pleased to meet you, Miss Barret. I'm Hermione Granger, sixth year Gryffindor." She seated herself in the offered chair and sat up straight, just as if she was sitting in a job interview.

"Please call me Voleta," Miss Barret said, smiling too. She jostled a few papers on her desk and jotted down Hermione's name onto a piece of parchment. "What exactly can I do for you today, Hermione?" Voleta asked, once she had finished writing. She looked into Hermione's face expectantly.

Hermione launched into a brief, yet concise discussion of her interests and goals, though she confessed she had yet to decide on a particular path. "I'd like to explore my options," she finished, smiling pleasantly.

"There's a world of opportunity out there for you, and it's naturally up to you to find your niche," Voleta said. She retrieved a few brochures from her desk and pushed them across the surface to Hermione. "This literature may help you get a better understanding of the wide range of jobs in my field. Perhaps there's something here for you. If you do see anything you like and if you have some questions, please feel free to contact me."

Voleta dipped her hand into the pocket of her robes to retrieve a business card for Hermione when suddenly, her expression changed and she ceased all movement. The death eater card in Voleta's pocket grew hot in her hand.

"Miss Barret?" Hermione's voice broke through the silence. "Voleta? Are you all right?"

Voleta snapped back into reality and make eye-contact with the Gryffindor girl. "Yes, I'm fine." She smiled slightly and let go of the card, removing an ordinary one from her pocket instead. She passed it to Hermione and said, "Owl me anytime, Hermione."

"Thank you," Hermione said. She rose to get up, offering her hand once more. "Thank you very much."

It was nearing dinner time, and it rapidly became apparent that any further appointments between the career specialists and the students would have to be put on hold until tomorrow. Nonetheless, Hermione stopped by Nakshidil Aksoy's table as the Turkish witch was gathering together her materials.

"Maquis, you've made it after all. I was beginning to give up hope," Nakshidil joked. Maquis was a nickname Nakshidil had given Hermione after some correspondence.

Hermione grinned apologetically. "I've been in the library for most of the day. Finals are next week and..."

"No need to explain," Nakshidil said, smiling. "I understand perfectly. I'm going to be here tomorrow. Would you like to set up an appointment so that I'm sure to have a moment with you?"

"Oh, yes!" Hermione exclaimed. "I have an hour free after Ancient Runes tomorrow. Is 9 o'clock all right?"

"It's perfect! I have a gift for you, too," Nakshidil went on, smiling warmly. "You'll receive it tomorrow."

Hermione hung her shoulders slightly and said softly, "You don't have to..."

"Ah, but I want to!" Nakshidil exclaimed, and Hermione's smile grew.

The two conversed amicably for a few minutes until a house elf arrived to whisk the two guest speakers away for the night. It wasn't long before the tables were magically rearranged in the Great Hall for dinner. Hermione found her place at the Gryffindor table and wondered where on earth Harry, Ron and Ginny were. She hadn't seen them in hours!

Thank You for Visiting, Goodbye
Author: Voleta Barret
Date: 09-20-03 18:02

After visiting with ten students during the day, Voleta was ready for the day to end. Unfortunately there was still two more hours until supper. As soon as she had pulled out another handful of brochures for the taking, a handsome looking Slytherin boy came walking up.

His white teeth shined as he introduced himself, "I'm Sergio Lyon- Seventh year, Slytherin. I am interested in Muggle Relations." He shook her hand. This statement took Voleta by surprise, she remembered this kid. He was suave and sharp, and to add to it- Slytherins to be interested in Muggle Relations, good relations, were about as rare as a calm pixie, but of course challenges were just part of the job. So Voleta put on her kindest smile and asked him to sit down.

"Sergio, why would you like to be in Muggle Relations?" Voleta took out a quill and parchment. She had to write this down. It was too amazing not to.

He began by talking about how Muggles needed to be shielded from the magical world and that some of their minds were not able to handle the large amount of information that was our world. It was the textbook answer.

Putting down the quill, Voleta had to think, "Is this kid just pulling my leg?" "But don't you think that muggles and mudbloods are the scum of the earth?"

The boy looked horrified. "That isn't the way a Ministry worker should be talking! Especially one in Muggle Relations!"

Voleta looked ashamed and nodded, "Yes, sorry, I shouldn't have assumed, but now, really, what do you think of muggles?"

He shrugged, "They're okay. What, are you trying to test me?"

"No, of course not. Ummm...." She was lost for words. They sat in silence for almost a minute until Sergio spoke up.

His eyebrows knit together, he asked "What's in your pocket? You haven't taken your hand out of it since I stopped talking."

She looked down at her hand, it was in her robe-pocket rubbing the card again. This was not the first time she had found herself doing that, and it was usually when there was a Slytherin around. Jerking it out of her pocket she snapped, "None of your concern."

"Oh- okay- well- er," he shifted in his seat uncomfortably and so did Voleta. Thinking of nothing better to do, she shoved a brochure and business card at him. "If you have any questions, feel free to owl me. Nice meeting you."

She rose out of her seat, expecting him to also. He looked a bit shocked, but took the hint. Without a single glance at the pamphlet, Sergio left the Great Hall.

Comforting after the Confrontation
Author: Draco Malfoy
Date: 09-20-03 18:34

Draco was too shocked and disturbed by the scene to do anything remotely in character. A human instinct, buried deep within him, emerged. He did the first thing that came to mind and pulled Santhea to him when she tried to turn away. He held her close, gave her a shoulder to cry on and gently touched her on the back to reassure her that he was still there. He didn't know why he was suddenly feeling so compassionate. Perhaps he hated seeing one of his own kind so distraught. That's what she was, despite her family ties. She was Slytherin. Just like him.

Yet, there was something terribly off-balance. She cried and bitched too much, and Draco knew perpetual PMS wasn't the culprit. Santhea cared deeply, almost too deeply for this dead brother of hers. This dead brother who traitorously plotted against the beliefs the rest of the family held so dear. But again, Santhea and Draco weren't too different in this regard.

A traitorous relative could even be found in the Malfoy family, through his mother's side. But this was where Santhea and Draco differed. Santhea had feelings for Stuart. Mushy, gushy, fuzzy feelings for the young man who had betrayed his family. Draco had none such feelings for Sirius Black, but then again he didn't even know the man.

Draco sighed quietly and gently took Santhea by the shoulders, pushing her away from his body to look into her tear-stained face. "Stay here. I'm going to bring you some dinner." He directed her to the over-stuffed couch in the common room and made sure she wouldn't budge from that spot before leaving for the Great Hall.

Strange Meetings
Author: Sirius Padfoot Black
Date: 09-20-03 20:45

Sirius had been nursing a massive headache since the meeting with the author Clive Riordan the night before. Promptly at 11 pm Sirius had unfolded the parchment with the instructions and apparated to the designated location. In that very short time, the parchment disintegrated entirely.

A heartbeat after he appeared at the meeting spot, a hooded figure had stepped from deep shadows and intone, "Patrick Blackburn, follow me."

Sirius had followed his guide through a high, ivy covered, gated wall, along a narrow flagstone path through a well-tended garden to a cozy looking cottage. Sirius was led inside then was positioned in front of the fireplace, handed both an enchanted pair of earmuffs to block out sound and a blindfold. After donning both, Sirius waited with some trepidation then felt himself being shoved towards the fireplace, hands like iron gripping both shoulders.

When the sensation of going through the Floo Network ended and Sirius reminded himself to breath, the earmuffs are removed and a gravel-filled voice told him to remove the blindfold. The first thing Sirius saw as he looked around while his eyes adjusted to the gloom filled room, was the hooded figure gliding out a door in the wall to his left. His nostrils had been immediately assailed by the pungent, yet somehow at the same time sickly sweet and cloying, aroma of some sort of burning incense.

The gravely voice, so scratchy sounding it made Sirius have the constant urge to clear his throat and cough, directed Sirius to sit. That's when he'd noticed the small table at the back of the room, lit by one lone candle and flanked by two chairs. The owner of the voice occupied one chair and through the dim light Sirius could faintly make out one arm making a sweeping gesture to the vacant chair. His eyes starting to water from the incense fumes and his head already starting to ache, Sirius closed the gap to the table and too the offered seat.

"You have the final contract?"

By way of answer, Sirius had pulled the folder from its resting place in his robes. "You have the manuscript?"

The man produced a thick tome where Sirius presumed it has been resting on Riordan's lap and dropped it on the table with a loud thump. Next Clive Riordan produced a quill and took the pieces of parchment Sirius had slid across the table. It was when Riordan had bent over to sign his name to both copies and his face became fully illuminated by the candle that Sirius got a good look at the man sitting opposite.

Cletus Richardson. Two years ahead of Sirius at Hogwarts. Most shocking of all, an alumnus of Ravenclaw.

The hooded figure suddenly appeared at Sirius's side. He'd never even heard the person re-enter the room but to his credit, Sirius didn't flinch in surprise when one of those hands with the iron gripped took hold of one shoulder again. Riordan, though now Sirius will forever think of him as Richardon, slid one of the now signed contracts back to Sirius who took both it and the manuscript. As Sirius stowed both items snuggly in his robe pockets, Riordan had leaned over the table again, his eyes scrunched up in the pale light.

"Say, you look a little bit like someone behind me in school. Sirius Black. You've probably heard of him because of when he was put in Azkaban and then again when he made a real splash as an escaped fugitive from that same prison. What a wanker he was. Probably still is. Must have given you a bloody hell of a time when he was running around on the loose."

Sirius, whose heart had virtually stopped beating at Riordon's words, felt blood rushing to his ears as his pulse rate returned to normal. He smile grimly at Riordan. "Bloody hell doesn't begin to describe my life when that git was a fugitive. Because I resemble him some, when his picture appeared in The Daily Prophet the first time after he'd escaped Azkaban, someone turned me in to the Ministry. Those buggers descended on me, made accusations, raised suspicions, took a really close look into my private affairs. I lost my job and some lucrative connections because of it all. I've drifted around since then and even after Black was declared innocent, I've had a hard go of it. Mainly because people are slow to trust and to believe that a person could be just an innocent bystander. At least the Ministry's trained monkeys didn't stay on me for long. It was soon clear to them I wasn't who they were after. Did they apologize? No. Did they make any effort to help restore my job and my life? Hell no. I owe Chris Wheelright a huge debt for giving me a good job and for allowing me to hold my head high again."

Riordan shook his head slowly as if sad at Patrick Blackburn's tale of woe. When Sirius was finished speaking, Riordan nodded to the hooded figure. "Wheelright provides a much needed service and apparently you've proven yourself trustworthy and indispensable. Next time he sends you, I'll be sure to have a nice spread of refreshments. We can exchange some stories. I'll tell you all about what a high and mighty prick Sirius Black was in school."

Sirius chuckled. "I'd like that a lot. I do hope we have that opportunity."

With that, the hooded figure guided Sirius back to the fireplace for a mirror image trip of the first one. Once back at the meeting spot, Sirius had apparated back to the shop to put the manuscript and contract in the lock box Wheelright had left on his desk for just that purpose.

Now, here it is the next day and Sirius is working on the manuscript doing the page layouts for the graphics while Wheelright does the final proofing and editing before the manuscript is ready to print. A large screech owl comes shooting through the window, drops an envelope on Sirius's workstation, then goes shooting out again. Surprised at getting a missive, Sirius opens it, frowning at the contents of the coded message.

"From the look on your face I'd say you just got some really bad news, Patrick," Chris says from across the room where he's had quill in hand as he proofreads the Riordan manuscript.

"No, not really bad. Just not the best. I'm divorced and the ex has custody of our son. Seems his appendix ruptured without any warning that there was anything wrong. Moony, that's my son's nickname, is at St. Mungo's recovering from the emergency surgery and he's asking his mum to have me come see him."

Wheelright jumps up and rushes over. "You'll go now of course. Nothing is so pressing on what you're doing that it must be done right this second. Anyway, your kid comes first, even if he's on the road to recovery."

Sirius thrusts his hand out to shake Wheelright's while smiling in thanks. "I appreciate this, Chris. I'll just pop in for a short visit, come back and finish out the day then go back to St. Mungo's this evening. I will be here to work tomorrow unless something happens to set Moony back. I'll let you know straight away if that happens."

Sirius steps away from Wheelright and disapparates. A minute later he's striding purposefully towards the ward reception pointed him to. Sirius walks in just in time to see a young woman bending over an unconscious Remus Lupin, his body bowed as if in pain, her wand raised and pointed.

Sirius bellows, "What in bloody hell do you think you're doing, miss?"

Startled, the woman steps back, her eyes darting to the side. Sirius follows the direction her eyes take and is shocked to see Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy standing there.

Eyes narrowed as he controls his rising ire, Sirius bites out, "Lucius. Cousin. Would either of you or this woman care to explain just what bloody shite is going on here?"

Lucius, smooth as ever, calmly replies, "Narcissa does volunteer work here several times a week. I met her here and before we left to grab a bite to eat, Narcissa realized her brooch was missing. The last place she recalled having it was when she came to put fresh flowers in a vase for the poor Longbottoms over there. We came up to retrieve the vase and turned around to see Voleta standing here by Lupin's bed."

The woman rapidly shakes her head up and down in agreement. "I was coming to check on someone for the Ministry but before I got to Karkaroff's bed, this man starting having a convulsion, I was hoping to stave it off with a charm long enough for a healer to get here. But you walked in and started yelling."

Lupin has stopped convulsing but is now very pale. Voleta, whomever she might be, adds, "Well, now that others are here, I must be going. I've an appointment I cannot miss." With that she walks quickly to the door and out into the hall. The *POP* that accompanies someone disapparating is heard and sure enough when Sirius pokes his head into the corridor, the woman is gone. He turns back to question the Malfoy's further when someone else enters the ward.

"Sirius, a chara, is everything all right? I stepped away for a few moments to the ladies' room."

Jim's Junk
Author: Peeves the Poltergeist
Date: 09-20-03 21:00

I sneak into the first-year Hufflepuff boys' dorm and grab one of the trunks. Apparently, it belongs to a young man named Jim Raynor. So, I zoom out of the room, and fly up to the ceiling of the great hall, open the trunk, and begin to throw its contents at the people in the hall.

Suspicions and Surprises
Author: Dierna ní Cíaran
Date: 09-20-03 22:01

"Sirius, a chara, is everything alright?" My answer isn't far, as soon as I enter the ward I see Lucius and Narcissa standing at the foot of the bed. What, in Bride's name are they doing here?

I walk over to Remus and examine him carefully.

"He looks . . . shaken." I observe, neutrally. "Something must have struck him in the ten minutes it took me to find the Ladies room and return."

"I found those two and another women they called Voleta here when I arrived."

"Voleta Barett?" That comes to me as decidedly suspicious. She doesn't know Remus or have any reason to come here as far as I know. Sirius sees the fleeting expression of surprise cross my face. "Do you know her, Dierna?"

"Yes. She works in Muggle Relations." I can't say the rest - my new suspicions of her, the change that seems to have come over her etc. in front of Lucius and Narcissa. Instead I give Sirius a look telling him to meet me later "someplace confidential." I also make a note to ask Voleta about her visit.

"And you, Lucius?" I ask, not hiding my suspicion. Nor expecting an honest answer. He repeats his earlier explanation and when he's done I reply "ah yes, of course you were concerned. I'm sure Remus will be appreciative of your - assistance - when he's recovered."

That Was Close, But Let's Get Closer
Author: Lucius Malfoy
Date: 09-20-03 22:26

Lucius and Narcissa take their leave, not speaking even to each other until after they've apparated into a house not their own. Lucius gives Narcissa a peck on the cheek. "Excellent suggestion about the brooch, dear. I'm glad you mentioned the idea to me as we walked up to the ward."

Narcissa give Lucius one of her cool smiles then walks over to join her sister. Ensconced in the plush cushions and pillows of the couch and looking quite like herself again, Bellatrix lets out another one of her goose bump inducing laughs. It's such an evil laugh that even the hairs on the back of Lucius's neck bristle.

After sitting down in one of the comfortable chairs near the couch, Lucius sends a brittle smile Bellatrix's way. "That was cutting it fine. If Black has arrived even a split second sooner, he would have heard you cackling maniacally. All in all though I think we handled his surprise visit well. By the way, Bells, it's damned lucky you were looking like Voleta Barret because that chit Ni Ciaran showed up right after you left. Apparently she's been spending a great deal of time by the werewolf's bedside."

Narcissa pats Bellatrix's knee. "Let's brew up some new potion. We'll pick a Muggle for another face for you. Someone no one would know. It's certain that as Voleta, Dierna would have wanted to chat you up if she'd seen you today. With a face of a stranger who's just another St. Mungo's volunteer, she shouldn't have reason to question you should she see you."

"I agree," Lucius chimes in. "Let's make sure the potion is strong and add a few long lasting charms to it. Then, for added safety, you can carry around a vial or two of the stuff. If anyone sees you with a vial stuck in a pocket, who'd think anything of it? There are vials being carried around all over that place."

Bellatrix's mouth slowly curves up into a cat that ate the canary grin. "Yes, that would be excellent. I do so want to get in a visit to Karkaroff and have time to spend with my dear, sweet, best bosom friends the Longbottoms. I thought I was going to have to pout about it. Lupin is a delectable added treat. Let's get started right away on the new batch of polyjuice!"