Building Excitement
Author: Jared
Date: 03-30-04 20:10

"I can't wait for tomorrow to get here if that answers your question," Jared states while hastily scribbling a letter to send home to let his mum know their invitation has been accepted. He plans to send it off by owl before going to his only Friday class, Herbology.

"I'm even looking forward to seeing Etta," Jared adds, referring to his eight year old sister, Julietta, "though I'm sure by Monday I'll be ready to strangle her again."

Hearing this prediction, Orie gives a snort of laughter, a grin visible through the cascade of hair puddling on her potions book. Jared folds the parchment and jumps up. "I'm going to send this off. Meet you in class!"

Jared grabs his book satchel and bounds out of the common room, even more excited about winter break now that friends will be spending at least a few days of it with his family.

---

Accepting an Invitation
Author: Riku
Date: 03-30-04 22:21

Riku considered Sora's question for a moment. It was pretty easy to see that spending Christmas with Sora would be a billion times more fun then at the castle. He looked at Sora, who had on his begging face.

"Ok, I'll just make sure to write my parents so they know I'm going with you," He said. He watched as Sora celebrated in his own way before running off to go get lunch. Riku followed him and made a note to make sure to pack now.

---

Ellspeth's Herbals Etc: Winter Evenings
Author: Ellspeth
Date: 03-31-04 09:27

Darkness comes early this time of year in Hogsmeade, Scotland, and even thought there were several hours left in the business day, Ellspeth looked out the window at the falling snow in the dusk light. It was just like a picture postcard. One of those magical ones of course. Where everything moves and all. When she had seen pictures of Hogsmeade before moving here, well she had simply fallen in love with it. Now she lived here, how exciting, her dreams had finally come true.

Quickly giving herself a bit of a shake, she began turning up some of the sunflower lamps around the shop. She had an 8 foot one in one corner that could actually give you a bit of a sunburn if you sat beneath it too long. It had always come in handy as a bit of a heat lamp when you had sore muscles.

Then began stringing garlands of greenery throughout. She had talked a few lightening bugs into making their homes in the garlands earlier that year and they had cheerfully populated the entire garland now, blinking here and there. The adults a bit slower, but the baby bugs running hither and yawn and picking a tempo that made you head whirl. During the summertime she would return them to the out of doors to visit family and friends. They were such accommodating little creatures.

After rummaging around in the back for a moment, she finally found the chocolate/peppermint popper powder she loved so well. Adding a large spoonful to some hot milk, she sat down in her favorite rocker near the front of the shoppe and watched the folicing antic of the gingerbread people and also the softly falling snow threw the frosted paned windows at the front of the shop...

---

Knights Walpurgis: Sharper than a Sword
Author: Dierna ní Cíaran
Date: 03-30-04 19:07

"You contradict yourself almost as much as you underestimating people. If my act is so perfect, how can I let things slip? And don't assume I'll fail just because I am not Jehan Guru. You don't know me, Hawkins. Nor do you know my capabilities. If death and terror were detriments to me, I would not be here. Ask your dead friend De Lacey the cost of miscalculating my abilities."

Hawkins seems taken aback at my comment. He also looks angry at bringing de Lacey into the conversation.

"There is one more thing I wonder about." He says, changing the topic . . . seeing he won't win in words against me, nor get me to cower in fear.

"Just one?" I ask. He ignores the quip.

"For someone who is obvious Irish, why do you have a Greek Name? Do you think it will fool anyone?"

"Who says I'm trying to fool anyone? You don't need me to do that. You make fools of yourselves well enough without my assistance." The man grits his teeth at that comment. "My name is a family tradition. We always give each other foreign names- first and last. Its been going on for centuries."

---

Knights Secret Temple: Musings
Author: Merdroit Turin
Date: 03-30-04 19:42

"The chief auror in Britain is MIA, had you heard? Kolinkar Stryker, a sixth level Knight asks, when he sees Merdroit examining a parchment in the ill-lit chamber of the Temple. The Temple, and its surroundings, was a carefully guarded secret. Only initiates above the Third Order were permitted. And even then, certain sections were only accessible by invitation of the Grand Master.

Merdroit, put down the scroll and looked up at Stryker. His obvious, uncharacteristic interest putting lie to his claim that Dierna means nothing to him.

"Really? How interesting? They have no idea where she is?"

"None." Stryker confirmed, grinning at the thought, "Of course, her colleagues are trying to hide it. But it's obvious, they have no clue were ni Caran is."

Stryker put a recent copy of the Daily Prophet down on the table. "My cousin sent this to me yesterday. I would have told you right away but you were at Durmstrang." Stryker left out the "instructions" he'd been givn to never mention Merdroit being a Knight at the school. The simple statement would be enough.

Merdroit scanned the article, a thoughtful look on his face. But he did not share whatever thought it is that crossed him mind. Instead he asked, "So, what do you think of that Solon girl?"

"I think she won me a lot of money." Stryker replies, not able to pass on the chance to gloat about something to Merdroit. Merdroit fixes the other man him with a displeased stare. "Same thing everyone else does. She has no right being here, she was lucky winning the tests, but she won't last long."

"Hmm." Merdroit commented, noncommital. "No doubt Nathaniel will take care of her in short order. Where is the man, anyway? He was supposed to come here directly after checking on the woman."

"Don't know. Anyway, I have to go. Catch you later, Merdroit."

Merdroit nodded sharply at the other man, then looked again at the newspaper.

---

Shopping Ideas
Author: Sora
Date: 03-31-04 16:38

Deciding to hold in his excitement, Sora waited for Riku at the entrance hall. "Aw, you're such a slow poke!" said Sora as Riku caught up to him. He hardly showed a glimpse of excitement (although Sora could tell that Riku was rather happy about his decision to go with Sora).

"I arrive exactly when I mean to, Kiwi," said Riku. Sora just pulled his hair. "Awwww! Not you too!!" Riku only laughed as he pushed Sora into the Great Hall. There, they found Kairi, Tranquillina, and Roane already there eating. Sora and Riku sat next to each other filling their plates. "Quite the ladies men we are, eh' Riku?" said Sora as he lightly nudged Riku on his arm with his elbow. "Aw, shut up!" Riku snapped as he ruffled Sora's hair.

"Okay, okay, okay!! Knock it off!" Demanded Sora as he pulled his hair away from Riku. Straightening up, Sora continued to fill up his plate. "So, I was thinking we could stop by Hogsmeade to do some shopping... if that's alright with you." Riku shrugged. "No objections there."

Sora gave yet another goofy grin. "Great! Then it's settled!" he said as he tood a huge bite out of his sandwich.

---

Presents Et Cetera
Author: Sebastian Sjoblom
Date: 03-31-04 23:47

On a cold Friday afternoon, his four classes for the day completed, Sebastian sits cross-legged on his bed, wearing a thick grey Aran sweater and carefully cutting squares of wrapping paper for his friends' presents. The paper has broad stripes of green and gold, with seasonal red Quaffles laid out at intervals in the centers of the stripes. He had picked it out very especially last weekend in Hogsmeade, when he had also bought, in a last-minute rush, jewelry for Desi and Bronwyn and odd books for most everyone else. He folds the paper very carefully around each present, after which he chokes it in Spellotape with reckless abandon. He's just finished wrapping up a necklace for Desi, and, giving his wrapping job a little consideration, he picks up the roll of Spellotape to wrap it a little tighter.

Lawrence strolls in at that moment, and Sebastian tries frantically to hide the evidence of his half-finished wrapping effort by shoving the whole lot of it into his lap, for he hasn't yet wrapped Lawrence's gift, a leatherbound selection of Camus' writings.

"Don't look!" he says in a panicked voice, arms encircling the mess of wrapping paper, Spellotape, and gifts, eyes wide like a criminal caught red-handed. Lawrence laughs, apologizes, covers his hands with his eyes, and retreats down the stairs again. Sebastian finishes his wrapping with the curtain drawn around his four-poster.

"Look at this," he says proudly, offering Arley's Christmas present to him when he arrives from class. It's fairly flat, longer than it is wide, and a foot or two in length. The tape is wrapped tight around it, often layering over itself in crazy haphazard patterns.

Arley hefts the gift in both hands and reads aloud the square of parchment Spellotaped to the side.

"For Arlington, from Sebastian. Do NOT open until Christmas," he says, reading the capital letters in "not" in a very capital voice.

"Go on!" Sebastian urges, laying a hand on Arley's shoulder. "Try to open it!"

"But the card says--"

"Exactly!" Sebastian says, grinning expectantly. "Try it."

Arley raises an eyebrow and attempts to undo the layers of tape asphyxiating the gift inside. Before he's managed to peel much of the Spellotape up from the wrapping, though, the stuff takes on a life of its own, unwinding a little in order to wrap itself tight around Arley's fingers and bind them together. He shouts, alarmed. The package throws itself back and forth, tethered to Arley by the length of tape, and the weight alone makes him attempt to toss it away. At that gesture of surrender, the tape withers quickly from Arley's fingers, crinkling into papery ash and falling to the floor. The present thumps onto the ground.

"If you try to open before Christmas," Sebastian informs him, picking the gift up again and setting it on his bed, beside its fellows, "it does that."

"It's... effective," Arley says. "Hey, I got a letter from Fallon. She said she's got a house in Hogsmeade, says it's a, I quote, a 'fixer-upper.'" He removes the letter from his robe pocket and unfolds it.

"There's more," Arley goes on, holding out the letter to Sebasian and tapping a finger on the relevant paragraph. "She wants us to come to Christmas dinner."

"Oh," Sebastian says, skimming over it. "That is nice of her...."

"No, it's not," Arley says matter-of-factly. "It'll be excruciating. Imagine, you, me, and her, eating her blackened cooking in a dilapidated old shack that she thinks is 'charming.' But I guess we gotta go. She's my sister."

Sebastian reaches the postscript and reads it. Then, doubting his own abilities with English, he reads it again, translates it to Swedish in his head, then considers it. Yes, it is indeed telling Arley to leave the window open on Christmas eve night if he wants a "surprise."

"Did I read rightfully?" Sebastian asks. "A surprise."

Arley glances at the postscript and folds the letter up again, returning it to his pocket.

"It is kinda creepy," he says, pacing toward the window with Sebastian following behind. "I guess she's getting me a big present." (Neither of them is aware of this, but in fact Arley is only half right. There will be two big presents.)

Sebastian opens the window and surveys the windy white world outside the warm, insulated dormitory. The sky is pale grey, but Sebastian likes the color grey. He looks down. The snow beneath looks inviting, and he has to remind himself that sixteen is too old for snowball fights. He imagines falling into the snow, feeling the previously undisturbed snowbank crunching beneath his weight, the snow cold on his face and hands and seeping wet into his clothes.

Arley wraps an arm around his chest, and Sebastian turns to face him. He hops onto the windowsill backward, taking Arley's hands in both of his and sitting there, his back to the cold, his face to the warmth and to Arley.

"I want to fall out," he says, kicking his heel against the wall.

"Don't," Arley says and squeezes his hands, and then, with a rather touching concern, "Your hands are real cold." He brings Sebastian's fingers to his mouth and blows a steady stream of warm air.

Sebastian glances down at the white again.

"The snow is thick enough to cushion me," he says, and, feeling reckless, he leans out backwards further, clasping Arley's hands to keep from falling, and then he leans a little further, just until he can look straight up at the pale grey four o'clock sky. The breeze blows his hair in his face. He feels dizzy and his grip is loosening on Arley. He wants to fall out.

Arley pulls him back inside abruptly and shuts the window.

"C'mere," he says, and the air is suddenly, pleasantly warm on Sebastian's skin, and Arley's lips are suddenly, pleasantly warmer. There's a clomp-clomp-clomp on the stairwell, and they hastily, guiltily shove away from each other. Sebastian wipes the corner of his mouth with the back of his knuckles.

Lee Sickleby comes clomping up the stairs (he frequently clomps), and by the time he arrives in the room Sebastian and Arley are looking very busy with arranging wrapped presents alphabetically by last name of recipient and reading a letter, respectively.

"I'm goan home soon," Lee announces victoriously, clomping over to his bedside. "You two staying at the castle? Shame. Me and the folks are holidayin' in Majorca. Gotta pack me bags."

"Lucky snowbird," Arley says, looking up from Fallon's letter, which he was pretending to be rereading.

Lee packs the presents from Arley and Sebastian into his suitcase, thanking them amiably, accidentally pulling up some of the tape on Sebastian's and earning an attack from the charmed Spellotape. He babbles on about Majorca as he packs, and Sebastian and Arley cede to his yammering. Sebastian zones it out, not wanting to keep up with the English. Eventually, he makes for the common room, inducing relieved sighs.

After a large dinner, they gather in the common room, sitting on the floor near the fire. Sebastian rushes upstairs to retrieve Desi and Bronwyn's presents, so that they can bring them with them to the US without a poor owl laboring to carry them.

"Listen to the little card," Arley warns in Sebastian's absence. "It means everything it says about not opening the thing before Christmas. I should know." Desi and Bron respond with moderate alarm, though Arley doesn't elaborate. Eyebrows are raised.

"Happy Christmas!" Sebastian says upon his return, offering the Spellotape-encased boxes. The Quaffle-decorated wrapping paper is hard to make out under the layers of tape. "Be cautious with the tape. It's very sensitive." Eyebrows are raised again, and the girls take the packages tentatively.

The night marches on, and eventually the conversation winds down. Arley tells Desi to say hello for him to some American people whose names Sebastian doesn't recognize, and the conversation veers into an anecdote that is mostly incomprehensible to him. It gets late, and so goodnights and goodbye hugs are exchanged.

"It will be a little lonely when everyone has left," Sebastian remarks as he and Arley ascend the stairs.

"Yeah," Arley agrees sleepily, and then he remarks, grievously, "but we can always look forward to Christmas dinner with Fallon."

Sebastian rolls his eyes and laughs.

"Night," Arley says. He gives Sebastian a brief peck on the cheek, because all the bed-curtains are drawn but theirs, and heads for his bed.

"Night," Sebastian says, smiling at how commonplace and routine that was. He toes off his shoes beside the bed, draws the curtains against the cold, and straightaway falls asleep in his thick grey sweater.