Mischievous Thoughts
Author: Isolde
Date: 02-13-04 16:40
Isolde sat at the Slytherin table with Pyrrhus, Alexis, Devo and Alicia. The five friends talked about this and that, but mostly conversed in low tones regarding the sinister plan they had cooked up for the first Quidditch match of the season. The voodoo dolls were ready, and Devo and Alicia were itching to use them.
The other three Slytherins were also excited about the big game, especially because things were very promising this year for Slytherin (aside from the planned sabotage). The team was faster and stronger than Gryffindor, Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw, and after last year's near win of the Quidditch Cup, the Slytherins were more eager than ever to win it this year.
Isolde grinned evilly and threw back the remaining droplets of pumpkin juice in her goblet. She let it hit the surface of the table hard, the sound of it ceased the chatter between her friends for a second. They looked in her direction and smiled when they saw her grin.
The match between Gryffindor and Slytherin would be one to remember!
Sao Paulo, Brazil: Insanity
Author: Ethan Somerset
Date: 02-13-04 17:48
A cracked mirror hung crooked on the wall. Shards of glass littered the carpet near the dresser. The steady drip from the faucet in the bathroom, which hadn't been shut off properly, hit the marble basin over and over again.
Drip. Drip. Drip.
Ethan, in jeans and a plain white t-shirt, sat motionless in a chair by the window. His hair was uncombed, his face unshaved and his blue eyes vacant. He felt nothing and everything, but mostly exhausted, confused, upset and concerned.
Something changed completely a few weeks ago. He forgot much of what had been haunting him since Berlin, but felt haunted by so much more as well. He knew he had done some awful things this past year, but he couldn't remember why. What prompted him to fall off the deep end? What caused him to kill?
Over and over again, images of Taz-Marah's death flashed before Ethan's eyes. He remembered entering the flat in Memphis. He remembered dueling with wizards. He remembered all died, but none by his hand other than the witch. Who killed the others? Surely he hadn't gone into that fight all alone?
Over and over again, he heard his own voice shout out "Avada kedavra." He remembered the flash of green light. He remembered Taz-Marah's eyes as life left her body. He remembered staring at her corpse where she fell. Why had he killed her?
Drip. Drip. Drip.
Ethan blinked. A fly entered the room via the open window and buzzed around his head. It flew across the room in zig zags, returning only to the window to hit against it a few times as it searched for a way back out. It buzzed incessantly, and it was all Ethan could hear for a while.
His mind shut it out and shouted, "Avada kedavra!" and the vision of Taz-Marah's lifeless form crumpled to the ground. Green light. Bodies everywhere. The dusty road in Memphis. The bazaar across from the apartment building. The morning sun. Ethan saw everything again, but couldn't remember the things most important; those very things that would help him put two and two together.
The buzzing grew louder and the constant drip, drip, drip of the faucet went ever on. Ethan blinked and snapped out of his trance, throwing a startled glance at the window where the fly continually flew against it. He lowered his head and rubbed the back of his neck before standing up and retrieving a newspaper from the top of the dresser. His shoes crunched on the broken glass, and Ethan paused to look down at the ground.
The fly continued its noisy complaint of being unable to find the open window, and Ethan remembered what he wanted to do and folded the newspaper in half. He walked to the window and followed the path of the fly with his blue eyes until he used one quick movement to strike the fly dead.
Just as quickly as I struck down that witch in Memphis, Ethan thought to himself, and he let the newspaper fall to the ground. He brought his hands to his face and rubbed his eyes with the balls of his hands, swaying slightly from side to side as he did so. He felt awful. He had to tell someone. He had to turn himself in...
"No!" Ethan exclaimed suddenly, removing his hands from his face. "You have to figure things out first. Stay here and think!"
Drip. Drip. Drip.
Happiness is a warm, soft, fuzzy place
Author: Nathaniel Hawkins
Date: 02-13-04 18:20
Nathaniel breathed a sigh of relief after the woman had disapparated. Suddenly the room felt…warmer and more cheerful.
He allowed his shoulders to relax. He poured himself a hefty drink and sat down by the fire. Out of the corner of his eye he could still the filthy book, the one that he had taken the spell from. It was a binding spell of horrific proportions, crafted by someone without a conscience. Although it contained alchemical ingredients, for the most part the spell was bound with fear and restlessness. Some of the ingredients were vile. Ravens blood was the least of it. Some of the other items he thought might be unobtainable, but then Merdroit was surprising in his resourcefulness.
With this thought in mind he pulled a sheet of parchment towards himself and began to write a letter to his friend. He phrased the words in a hesitant manner, careful not to mention any names. Then he asked Merdroit for a date which was convenient so that he and Bellatrix could visit.
He sighed. The thought of traipsing around in the deep snow and cold was already making his head hurt, let alone having to spend the trip with Bellatrix. With a flourish he signed the document and using the usual spell cleaned the paper so it was only readable to the recipient.
His owl waited patiently for Nathaniel to attach the letter to his leg. "Take this to Merdriot Turin, at Durmstrang."
Now he would wait for the reply, but meantime there was nothing to stop him from enjoying the rest of the evening.
Being Played?
Author: Draco Malfoy
Date: 02-13-04 19:48
"Santhea, I'm going to ask you something and I want you to be honest with me." Draco's thoughts raced. What was the real reason Santhea went against her father's wishes? Was she just trying to get back at him for what he had done to Stuart or was it something else entirely? Was it something to do with Draco himself?
"What is it, Draco?" Santhea whispered.
"Do you..."
"Yes?"
But Draco changed his mind entirely and bit his tongue, sweeping gray eyes farther down the table where Pansy and Milicent sat watching him with contempt. He continued to massage his thumb over Santhea's hand an rested his head against hers.
"What are you playing at, Fennally?" he finally said.
"Whatever do you mean, Malfoy?" Santhea questioned softly.
"Nothing."
Time to dust off the mind-reading medallion...
Feasting
Author: Aaron Miller
Date: 02-13-04 20:02
Taking another helping of potatoes and gravy then eyeballing some of the other tasty dishes arrayed on the table, I decide that the Halloween feast is even better than the Start of Term feast. Or maybe it just seems that way because when school started I was nervous and unsure of how well I'd do here whereas now, things are going well and my students have LOVED the hands-on work we did at Cloud's Kiss this week.
When I made the announcement to my third years on Wednesday, I thought I might have to put off the actual first visit to the estate because of how excited the students were. It took me a minute to finally get another word in and a few more minutes to get them calmed down enough to get them lined up at the fireplace to Floo to Cloud's Kiss.
Bluebell and Tulip had everything ready just as asked and for the rest of the class period, the third years learned how to make toast using an actual toaster and how to operate a dishwasher. The students who were Muggle born or had a Muggle born parent weren't all that thrilled about making toast but they soon found it as fun as I did to see those of pureblood backgrounds in such awe of something as simple as a toaster.
Upon returning to school, I made the third years promise not to tell anyone else in Muggle Studies about the hands-on experience so that each class could have the thrill of being surprised as they were. To my delight, they all held to the promise or if they didn't, anyone in my other classes who knew didn't give it away. I think that all my students are now looking forward to next week's classes as much as I am. Of course, they don't know yet that they'll be making cupcakes. Edible ones I hope...
Thinking of cupcakes reminds me I've not yet tried any of the sweets on the table so I pile my plate with a variety and dig in!
Total Embarrassment
Author: Logan Hendrickson
Date: 02-13-04 20:18
Logan sat in front of the fire in the commons room...He had just made a total idiot of himself in front of two of the nicest girls he knew in Gryffindor House. And deciding that maybe he wasn't made for conversations with the opposite sex anymore, he had just disappeared quietly without anyone noticing and decided he was better off reading a good book. He had picked up a couple of the cutest little pumpkin cakes he could find and left them on the table near their rooms with a little note apologizing.
Picking up his books, he climbed the stairs to his room...There just happened to be the nicest window seat that looked out over the grounds of Hogwarts that was next to his bed.
This was heaven...at least here he wasn't making an idiot of himself. He had a large glass of pumpkin juice and a couple of cookies and started to read.
"Hogwarts -- A History"............
A Light When All Lights Have Failed
Author: Dierna ní Cíaran
Date: 02-13-04 20:37
We run toward the ladder, but the hole seems to have vanished. "Ca bhuil?" I ask, the feeling of dread rising in me. "Ta seo aneo... Ca bhuil an doras?*"
Nevvyn and I shine our light around . . . the trapdoor and ladder might never have existed. They are gone. The cavern suddenly vibrates with an echoing voice, sending pebbles falling from the ceiling.
Degenero Corpus
The room turns icy cold, and I can feel something approaching . . . something for which "evil" is too mild a term. Nevvyn is trying to tell me something, but I can't hear him. I'm frozen . . . not even in Voldemort's lair have I felt this much terror. I can't get my mind to work. I slide to the floor, close my eyes, try to block out the feeling of whatever it is coming toward us.
Then there's another voice, "Dierna, get up. It's not the end. Not for you, not yet. Please get up."
Even here, even is my fear, I know who it is. I'd know it anywhere.
"Lily?"
There she is, a faint ephemeral form a siabhra, a spirit. Here, now when I need her most. My closest friend proving true to her word, as always.
"Yes. I told you before I'd always be there when you need me. I can get you and your friend to safety, but you must hurry."
I get up and she takes me hands and starts leading me somewhere. Lily looks toward Nevyyn "Hurry. You don't want to know what that spell will do to you if it gets you." He does, looking in awe at the form of Lily. Lily takes Nevvyn and I to a far wall and places her hands on the rock face. It opens, then closes as soon as we are all in. The only light is the faint outline of Lily. She leads us down a path, slippery with moss and slime.
"Do you remember when you hit Bellatrix with the slug Belching curse?"
"Yes! She called you Mudblood!! No one insults my friends like that!"
"All the Gryffindors thought it was brilliant."
"Minerva didn't. She took away fifteen pins and gave me detention."
We both laugh at that. Lily's presence has calmed me considerably. I don't notice the seemly infinite stairs and turns we've been taking.
We go on like this for some time, exchanging memories of Hogwarts and our youth together. Suddenly the stairs end and we are at a platform.
"If you run very quickly, you can escape the Curse. Be careful of the dragon. He'll be looking for intruders now he's awake."
Lily turns to Nevvyn. "I know you look out for Dierna. Thank you for that. Her loyalty and devotion is unfaltering, sometimes it gets in the way of her logic."
"You are most welcome! And yes it does indeed." He gives me a look as if to say ‘even your friend says so!' "Can you tell us what curse it is that was let loose?"
"Degenero Corpus, the Soulless Death curse. Its effect is much the same as a Dementor's kiss."
Then Lily looks to me:
"You have a powerful and unrelenting enemy, Dierna. She'll go to no ends to destroy you. There is one more thing I can do to help you - but I must go somewhere else to do it."
"Lily - "
"You've always been the truest friend, Dierna. When you cross the veil, I'll be waiting for you. But don't rush into that fate. Its not your time yet. I have to go now. Goodbye, Dierna."
I Stand looking at the spot where Lily was for a long time. I realise my cheeks are wet and I try to wipe them off before Nevvyn can notice.
Potio Socors
Author: Severus Snape
Date: 02-13-04 21:14
To Snape's surprise, Goyle returned with the ingredients a little over an hour later. The bulky Death Eater placed the two bottles and the small box on the table next to the other materials and then resumed his position at the door next to Crabbe. Looking away from his guards, Snape started to busy himself with the Potion.
Although many of its ingredients were common and not dark in nature alone, when mixed with certain materials in particular quantities and in specified ways, even the simplest of ingredient could be quite hazardous. Snape worked tirelessly on the potion, carefully measuring each ingredient before throwing it into the boiling cauldron. He stirred the contents three times clockwise, four times counter-clockwise and tossed two salamander eggs into the swirling mixture. Again and again he did this until he'd done it five times. When all of the ordinary ingredients had gone into the cauldron, Snape concentrated on the more serious portion of the potion.
He started to sweat, both because he was nervous and because the boiling cauldron gave off much heat. He wiped his forehead with the sleeves of his robes and carefully unscrewed the lid to the bottle of pickled human brains. They were slippery when he pulled them out of the jar, one by one. He nearly dropped one onto the dirty floor of the storeroom and had half the mind to scold himself as he often did Longbottom but refrained from any such action.
Crabbe and Goyle looked on but obviously didn't pay enough attention to memorize Snape's every move. This gave the Potions master some comfort, and allowed him to work a bit more freely and confidently. He cut each portion of pickled human brain into quarters and tossed them into the boiling mixture. The thick, gooey substance bubbled ominously and gave off an awful stench. It turned from a pasty gray color to slime green and then to mucus yellow.
Snape continued, not noticing as the next hour went by and then the next. He'd chosen a quick potion for his demonstration, but even it would take at least one more hour before completion. A dollop of runespoor venom, a few more stirs to the left, another half a dozen of quartered brains. Snape stepped back and allowed the cauldron's contents to simmer. He checked the time and waited for fifteen minutes to pass. Then he added the final ingredient: human blood. It must be his own, for only the blood of the brewer of the potion could truly make its properties effective.
Reaching for the knife on the table, the one he had used to quarter the brains, Snape used his wand to clean it. Then he put the blade against his hand and cut into his skin, adding three small drops to the simmering cauldron. It hissed and the color changed to a bright red. Snape checked his watch again and knew the potion would be complete in another fifteen minutes.
The time passed slowly, and with every aching moment Snape hoped and prayed he'd done everything correctly. He was quite sure he had but he feared something would go wrong anyway. He mended his hand with a simple healing spell and waited. After time was up, he bottled some of the mixture into a container made of quartz. It had thinned as it cooled and now looked remarkably like fruit juice.
Snape tucked his wand back into his robes and carried the potion to Crabbe and Goyle, who made room for him to pass into the next chamber. Severus looked around the room as he made his way to its center, noting that the facial expressions of the other Death Eaters hadn't changed since his arrival. He stopped in the middle of the room and turned towards Voldemort.
"May I present to you the Potio Socors," Snape announced, offering the quartz bottle to the Dark Lord.
Voldemort looked unmoved. "What does it do?"
"It deprives the drinker of his mind. It starts with a small pulse in the brain, so you know it's working. It intensifies and causes great pain for the victim until ultimately he is nothing more than a vegetable."
"How long?"
"Depends on the dosage," Snape answered. "A teaspoon could take days, maybe weeks. A full glass, an hour."
He waited for Voldemort to speak again.
