Hogwarts 1975

[FieryCold]

IN A TIME WHERE racial discrimination is rampant and the Cold War is at its height, an ominous force looms over the wizarding world. Despite efforts to keep them apart, the magical and the mundane nonetheless overlap and bleed influence into each other. Muggles grapple with political and military disarray, while the wizarding community is faced with an enemy so formidable it is only ever mentioned in whispers: they call him the Dark Lord, and his followers, the Death Eaters.

Such is the influence of this rising group of supremacists that even Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, rumoured to be one of the safest places in the world next to Gringotts, cannot remain unperturbed for long. A new academic year has begun, and as students both young and old pour into the school's ancient halls, whispers of an unspeakable terror reigning within campus grounds abound. A group of pureblood supremacists, armed with dark intentions and even darker magic, now stand at the helm of the school. The well-being of half-breeds and muggle-borns alike hang in the balance.

Hogwarts is no longer safe.

Current Event -- Chapter 3: A Day in Detention
Flashback: Tuesday, September 2, 1975

THE FIRST DAY of the new school year had certainly been an eventful one. Thanks to the Weasel and his henchmen, friendships had begun to tear apart, carefully woven masks had shown their cracks, and reputations so tightly safeguarded were now blemished. Yet, the day went past in a quick flick of a wand. Now that classes were wrapped up for the day, it seemed that the worst was finally over.

However, matters such as last night's senior party would always somehow make it back to the professors, regardless of how hard students try to cover it up or how many protective charms they cast on each other to ensure the secret stays hidden. As such, when the clock struck five and all four houses poured into the Great Hall for the night's feast, an announcement from Professor Dumbledore awaited them there.

The Headmaster had quite a few choice things to say about the students' disregard of the school rules and had made a note, albeit in his usual expertly calm demeanor, about how they had set a poor example to the lower years. In what seemed to be an off-topic remark, he mused about how the castle had been standing for however many long years, and that various parts of it would need some thorough cleaning. He gazed down upon the Seventh Years through his half-moon spectacles, just before flashing them a cheeky smile.

It was thus decided that the Seniors would be spending an entire Saturday cleaning the castle and the areas surrounding it. The catch, of course, is that it would all be manual labor, and all wands would remain confiscated until the evening of that day. Whether this punishment would teach the Seventh Years a lesson, however, is another matter entirely.

---

Saturday, September 6, 1975
Starting Point: Detention

WHAT A BEAUTIFUL DAY it was! There was not a cloud in sight and the sun was shining brightly through the castle windows when the students stirred from their slumber that morning. It would have been the perfect end to a long week—a chance to unwind and explore the school grounds, if only detention didn't await the Seventh Years that day.

While the lower years discussed what they would do on this fine day of freedom amongst each other, the seniors were merely filled with dread over what was to come. A listing of detention duties and groups had been put up in each of the four common rooms. It read as follows:

GROUP 1: OWLERY
LEAD: Asher Fay
Emrys Jernigan
Joan Lambert
Kyler Summers
Raina Summers

GROUP 2: KITCHEN
LEAD: Kassandra Castillo
Henry Chen
Lauren Harrison
Sebastian Kissinger
Christopher Williams
August Yilmaz

GROUP 3: QUIDDITCH PITCH
LEAD: Anastasia Fitzgerald
Jabari Asim
Pedro Govanni
Deborah Johnson
Felix Sloan

GROUP 4: LAVATORIES
LEAD: Persephone Gaunt
Heather Clarke
Morrigan Quinn
Oswin Ravenwood
Garaile Scriven
Millicent Thomson

GROUP 5: FORBIDDEN FOREST
LEAD: Alistair Blackbourne
Zedekiah Blackbourne
Seraphim Brimm
Melinda Geralds
Giselle Rosier
Maurice

Whoever decided on this list must have done so deliberately and with less-than-noble intentions, because with such conveniently mismatched groups, conflict is almost certain to arise!

Write-up by FieryCold | Coding by FieryCold | © Art by Andrew Davidson

SU / 1 / 2 / 3

 

[Nemopedia]

Both Raina and Joan snapped back at August in a familiar fashion. A way that indistinguishably confirmed who they were. The Ravenclaw wasn't sure if he was glad for it, two of them around meant that everything would be louder by the times of two. Something he wasn't ready for.

He did appreciate Joan trying not to step on Henry, however. Even if she did end up tripping over his arm. The Turk really didn't need any injuries on top of everything he already had to think of. To the question of Asher the boy just replied with a floating charm cast on Henry.

"It's Henry, breakfast will rise him from the dead even," the boy noted before floating the Hufflepuff off.

"You should worry about those loudmouths, Lambert is almost breaking her record there," the tanned boy smiled at Asher sparsingly before deciding that he needed more coffee to deal with more than one person.

"I'm going ahead, Henry will be too much of a liability in this group, don't get caught." And with that the boy left, floating his sleeping friend out of the inn back to school. Hopefully Henry would catch the smell of breakfast at the entrance, so that he would snap out of his slumber.

 

[Nemopedia]

Emrys 'Ambrose' Jernigan

That morning they faced their first obstacle. It had a mob of dark hair and was snoring lightly, curled up peacefulky under the stairs. Raina was quick to step on the boy, which made Emrys flinch a little. This almost felt like a literal act of how he felt metaphorically. Then Joan tripped over Henry's arm, another flinch from the Hufflepuff, but this time for the smack she made. That would require a trip to the hospital wing.

While Asher was inquiring about Henry's state August just floated Henry up, seemingly unfazed by everything. The Turk threw out another joke, smiled sparsingly through his morning mood and went off again. Emrys just blinked, watching the Ravenclaw walk away with Henry next to him like a zombie. Envy shot through him, with how at ease the foreigner was to be alone and at the same time to connect with people.

With a push Emrys signalled for Asher to help Joan up, he himself already extending a hand out towards her. How surprisingly clumsy the Gryffindor was, or unsurprisingly ungraceful. Emrys hasn't quite decided yet which of the two Joan was.

 

[darkflames13]

Montserrat

Zedekiah Blackbourne

☆ Location Great Hall

☆ Interactions

Melinda Geralds
(@Nemopedia)

Alistair Blackbourne
(@FieryCold)

Mel was acting odd, he decided. He wasn't sure why, but definitely was. There was a gnawing feeling that was telling him that whatever it was that was making his friend act weird, had to do with the events last night. Or perhaps the dream he'd just shared was just so ridiculous that the mere thought of it bothered her?

Liking that idea best, Zed latched on to it being the truth and tried to ignore the small voice at the back of his mind that was saying he was wrong.

He considered her question for a moment before answering, "I feel fine, just little sore from sleeping on the floor." Again, there was a nagging feeling telling him that he should be feeling a lot worse than he was.

All of a sudden, a voice called Mel's name from nearby. Zed turned and found the Gryffindor half-giant, with his head turned down. Disgust was written all over his face at the sight of the halfbreed. Before he could even question why Maurice was in their presence, he apologised to Mel for what happened yesterday. His eyes went wide as a memory flashed before him very briefly. In it, he saw Mel and the half-giant together outside the inn. Hadn't that been a dream? Zed clutched his head in his hands. He felt very confused and frustrated at his foggy memories.

Zed looked up at the sound of his brother's voice and saw him snatch the paper out of the half-breed's hands. His brows shot up at Ali's accusing question towards his fiancé. "Ali, what—" He never got to finish the question as he read the headline from the paper shoved towards Mel.

"It wasn't a dream..." he whispered before snatching a copy of the newspaper from someone else sitting nearby. The housemate he took it from seemed to not care, clearly enamoured by the drama that was unfolding before them. Memories of last night slowly started to get back to him as he read the article. He barely realised his hands gripping the paper tighter, crumpling the edges as he did.

"This shouldn't be here," he said, voice low. If what he thought to be a dream was real, then the article shouldn't even exist. "Unless..."

His head whipped up from the paper he was reading and turned towards the Ravenclaw table, looking for a certain redhead mudblood.

 

[Nemopedia]

Dancing Script;

Melinda Geralds

Melinda's breath hitched as the worst possible scenario came out. Maurice approached her, seemingly apologetic for last night, but not realising the bad timing of it all. To make matters even worse her fiancé decided to join the party, bristling terrible accusations at her. She could almost see the fumes coming out of his ears. All of the people she wished to speak and see the last gathered around the table, with the rest of the school spectating.

Zed gasped something next to her, but Melinda paid it no heed. Anxious and pale the Gryffindor fixated her eyes on both men near her. One that represented everything that she so despised and condemned. One that was basically her future. Both holding the power to destroy her and her family's carefully paved accession to the upperclass.

Anxious as she was she tried to gasp for breath, feeling lightheaded as she got up from her seat. She had to do something, she had to and she willed herself. Anger, she needed anger, but her legs were trembling and she wanted to vomit.

"I—I will come back another time," Maurice stammered as he realised his timing. Stumbling back the half-giant tried to slip away as gracefully and as unseen as he could, but tracted more attention to himself with his clumsy movements. Melinda knew at that moment that she had to take her chance. Now or never.

"I'd rather you left me alone," Melinda finally managed to mumble in a daze. The wooziness in her head was growing worse. Too much, there was much too much.

"Pardon?" Maurice stilled himself as he turned back to Melinda. Gentle hazel eyes staring her down. Her heart skipped, and her brain froze switching over to intuition. Too much.

"Leave. Me. Alone!" Melinda cried, tears stinging as she staggered, her legs giving out as she fell back into her seat. "Leave me, leave me, you dirty, filthy," Melinda was heaving trying to grab for something on the table.

"Half breed," she finally managed to gasp out, her voice a spiteful bile as she shocked even herself with the weapon in hand; a butterknife point right at his chest with a trembling arm. What had been her intent with this item? The Gryffindor was too scared to think of anything, but was glad that she hadn't thrown anything.

Maurice scurried off soon after, fear setting into his eyes as Melinda dropped the utensil immediately. The clatter of iron on stone keeping her from sinking away too far. Too much, much too much.

Slumping a little more the female wondered what was going to happen now. Would thunder hit the spot she was sitting in now? Would she faint? Vomit? She certainly felt like it. However, none happened. Except from whispers and stares and the reality from continuing.

Instead her eyes fell upon the newspaper of today, remembering again what had caused all this. A familiar bile of hate and disgust filled her as she grabbed it, turning around and threw it in Ali's face.

"You twat!" she yelled, near the brink of tears as she stomped her foot. A new surge of energy went through her, raising her up to her feet. All this ruckus, and for what?

"You dare to blame me?" the Gryffindor's voice was rising to such a level that it almost pitched, her lungs unable to keep up with all she surpressed in her little body. Anxiety, anger, hate, fear... everything and Melinda felt like she was losing control of her carefully packed bottle of emotions.

"You are the sleaze here, not me!" she managed to pinch out, an accusatory finger at Alistair. Body tense and fist balled the girl was ready to fight her bethroted right here and then. Her name, her pride, tarnished just like that.

 

[FieryCold]

FELIX SLOAN

✯ ✯ ✯ ┆ we get ever so hot ! whether we like it or not !

Felix was already wide awake and lounging in the common room when the first few hungover seventh years began to trickle back into the dormitories. From where he was seated on the chaise lounge, with his huge cosmetic set spread out before him on the coffee table, he acknowledged his returning housemates with a smile—smug and rouge-tainted—before bellowing a loud and hearty good morning that was apt to wake the entire dungeon. It seemed that his housemates were still suffering from migraines, if their cringe of pain was any indication.

Suffice it to say that Felix truly enjoyed being one of the very few sober folks in his year. As much as he enjoyed parties, Felix being who he was would never betray sleep for a night of inebriation. As a matter of fact, he barely had much to drink the previous night, and even then he made sure to stay properly hydrated. He called this a responsibility; others called it vanity.

In time, he finished his morning routine with a flourish. He rounded up the brushes, lipsticks, and palettes of various purposes with a flick of his wand, casting them into a small charmed bag that would have otherwise been unable to hold Felix's enormous collection. He gave himself a once-over in a beveled mirror—which sighed in exasperation and said, yes, he looked perfectly fine, now would he please leave?—then, with a tut, sashayed out of the dungeons for some much-needed breakfast.

The Great Hall was already packed with people by the time Felix arrived, though there were notably fewer seventh years to be seen. He pranced along the aisle, treating it like his own personal catwalk, before slowing down at the sight of a certain blonde. Percy was seated at the Slytherin table, alone as what always seemed to be the case. A wave of pity overcame him for a mere moment, then with a practiced smile, he bent down and gave her a kiss on the cheek.

"Good morning, dearie," he piped ebulliently, just when his eyes fell upon a stack of newspapers sitting quite deliciously upon the table. More delectable than any of the meals surrounding it. "Gary boy's been busy, I see," he said, delicately fishing the newspaper with his forefinger and thumb. He helped himself to the articles for a moment, eyes almost feasting upon them. Then, he gasped, eyes wide open as if he had been petrified, the newspaper falling slowly to his feet.

He then regarded Percy with the most serious expression that had ever made itself known upon Felix's face. He sat down and leaned close, but when he finally spoke, he hardly tried to keep his voice down.

"A threesome with August and that pretty Blackbourne boy!" He breathed, utter disbelief written all over his face. "How ever did you manage to do it? Tell me everything, sweetcakes."

► ll

in for the kill - la roux

 

[FieryCold]

---

ALISTAIR BLACKBOURNE​

---

IT TOOK NO MORE than a few seconds for the half-breed to realize his bad timing. With a stutter, he apologized for the intrusion and began to leave, but Melinda stood up and muttered something that caught his attention.

"Pardon?" Maurice asked, turning back to look at her. At the same time, Melinda's breathing grew heavier, legs noticeably shaking underneath her as though standing burdened her small physique. All color drained from her face as tears welled up in her eyes, threatening to fall at any moment. Seeing Melinda like this—so frail and unlike her usual feisty self—took Alistair aback, so much that he realized perhaps he had gone too hard on her after all, though he didn't know what he could possibly do to amend the situation now.

"Leave. Me. Alone!" Melinda cried out, legs finally giving away as she fell back onto her seat. Still mumbling, she desperately grabbed for something on the table. This confused Alistair for a moment until Melinda picked up a butter knife and pointed it at Maurice's chest. "Half-breed." The words that came out of her mouth were laced with venom, which surprised even Alistair as she said them. Perhaps it was the effect of the butter knife, small and unassuming it was, but in Melinda's hands it seemed all of a sudden a fearsome weapon. An act of savagery, hinting at murderous intentions.

The half-breed clearly thought the same, for fear flashed across his face and he scurried away. The butter knife fell onto the table with a clatter just as Melinda slumped into her seat, all energy seemingly seeping out of her frame. Now that she was no longer shouting, the whispers of their classmates were all the more audible.

Alistair was still not done with her, though he had made up his mind to talk to her in private and with more sensitivity than he had first approached her with. However, that all went out the window when Melinda suddenly threw the newspaper in his face, finding renewed energy as she stood up again to face him. The newspaper fell discarded onto the ground, leaving Alistair in a mixed state of shock and rage.

"You twat!" She yelled, stomping her foot as a child would in a fit of temper. The pounding in Alistair's head grew worse, and the shock of her insults rendered him speechless and reeling in anger. "You dare to blame me? You are the sleaze here, not me!"

"Say that again," Alistair demanded, closing what little distance was left between them in a show of dominance. Fuelled by a wounded pride and an abiding turbulence he didn't know he held within him, he gripped the accusing hand that pointed at him and pushed it aside. "I'm not the one romping around with a pesky half-breed, or have you forgotten?"

"Go on, hit me, woman," he challenged further when he took note of her balled up fists, leaning in and eyes wide with the fury of a madman. In his anger, he had completely forgotten where he was and failed to realize in the heat of the moment the consequences of his actions. All that occupied his mind was Melinda. The nerve of this woman to turn against him, when she relied so heavily upon his reputation. "Or should I call you blood traitor?"

He didn't mean it, not entirely, but his was a fire that had taken on a life of its own and could not be contained any longer.

- Location:
The Great Hall, Hogwarts
- Interactions:
Melinda Geralds [FONT=Georgia]@Nemopedia[/FONT]
Maurice (NPC)

Colour tag: #339966​

 

[darkflames13]

roboto;rs;

Heather Clarke

"Yes, professor. We're sure." Heather smiled politely at the grumpy man before her. She could see the skepticism in his narrowed eyes as he shifted to look at the girl beside her for confirmation.

Giselle smiled the same polite smile that Heather did and answered, "It's true. I saw it myself."

The man raised an eyebrow, still suspicious of their words. "Okay. If there really was a distraught house elf wandering the halls, then why didn't you do anything?"

Without missing a beat, Giselle swiftly answered, "I tried to sir, but it wouldn't listen to me. It just kept going on and on about how their master was going to punish them." She frowned, acting worried for the non-existent creature.

Heather was quite pleased by her housemate's acting skills. She could now see it in the man's eyes. They were close to convincing him.

"Please, professor. You've got to help the poor creature out," Heather pleaded, putting her own acting skills to practice.

Just like that, the uncertainty in his eyes vanished and with a sigh he nodded. "Alright then. Where did you last him?"

"He ran off to the first floor last I saw."

The man nodded once more before excusing himself and heading off to find the make-believe house elf. Heather couldn't help the smug look on her face as she began walking away from the High Table. Instead of heading back to the Slytherin table however, she was headed towards a different house: the Gryffindors. She hadn't gotten far when the blonde she was with, stopped her with a hand on her arm.

"What are you doing?" Giselle asked with a frown on her face.

Heather smiled a playful smile and instantly answered, "I'm heading to the Gryffindor table." Her answer was true, just not the answer that she knew her fellow pureblood wanted out of her. She knew what it was the girl was really asking; not the 'what' but the 'why' of it. This was only further confirmed by the pointed look that blonde was now giving her. Heather couldn't help the small chuckle she let out at her expression.

"Alright. I might as well tell you," she paused to turn around before continuing,"Even though I think it's quite obvious as to why I'm headed there." With that said, Heather resumed making her way to the lions. Giselle let out a frustrated sigh but quickly followed to catch up.

Soon as she felt the pureblood fall into step beside her, Heather marginally slowed her pace, making the blonde appear to be walking slightly in front of her. This was how they normally walked together. They were never truly side by side, there was always one that moved ever so slightly ahead of the other. It was her way of subtly showing people that this was Giselle's idea, even if in reality it was hers. She wasn't sure if the girl noticed, if she did, she gave no indication of it.

It seemed that a full blown argument was already happening by the time they'd made their way to the Gryffindor midget that was headlining today's papers. They'd manage to catch the younger Blackbourne's words. Blood traitor, he'd called his fiance. Heather felt delight the juicy scene that was before them. Things were already on their way towards a downward spiral and she loved it.

It wouldn't hurt to stir the pot more, right?

She tutted at the bickering pair, looking to draw their attention. "Now, now, Blackbourne. It's quite unfair of you to be calling out your fiance for being unfaithful when you yourself had quite the tryst last night." Heather took a step to stand beside Mel. "Cheating on her with two others, a guy and a friend of yours!" She made sure to catch a glimpse of the older Blackbourne's face as she gasped, before shaking her head.


Interactions: Alistair Blackbourne (@FieryCold), Melinda Geralds (@Nemopedia), Zedekiah Blackbourne (me), Giselle Rosier (NPC)

colour: #398c40

 

[Bubs]

Persephone Gaunt

Seventh Year, Slytherin

Percy found comfort in the pages of a muggle written book, it was quite the page turner. Stomach unsettled with the vast and horrible rumours left in the pages of the newly released paper. Shame of her house was on her head, along with the Head Boy's now... Alistair Blackbourne a fine pure blood that she had admired for a time at a distance, due to his status of engagement, though forced it was the right thing. How lowly, to destroy someone's happiness for false gossips and utter lies to create jests and puns. Percy thought shaking her head bitterly in disapproval, causing the beautiful strands on her platinum blonde hair to flare out in waves. Eyes of a snake soon began to seek comfort in her book once more, smiling lightly.

Books were a release for Persephone more of then not now, an escape from the world around her. Blood traitor or not for reading a muggle's work, something about the young pure-blood didn't care anymore. Scarred hands held the book almost protectively from disapproving on lookers who could possibly take it from her, eyes of shimmering greenish-yellow drank in the words from the page. Something just drew Persephone Gormlaith-Avalon to that main character, maybe there was something relatable to her? Or just the main character was delightfully charming and not real for her to feel heart break over.

Yet, Percy found herself blinking back tears while reading the story of Anne Shirley in her first and starting adventure in Anne of Green Gables. Gaunt found Shirley relative to her in a emotional level, the girl had lost so much in her short life. Though the imagination of Anne was something Percy envied almost, as she had almost lacked it. Life as a witch caused items of her imagination to become reality, muggles didn't have that. So their imagination became books, or famous pieces of artwork, dictations in time, something was so beautiful to Percy about that, yet she'd never speak of it.

Biting into her small thumb nail, humming a light tune that calmed her mind. A lullaby tune that reminded of softer, and sweeter days. Drawing the hardcover book to a close, after placing an old photograph in between the pages as a book mark. Leaning back into her seat, a soft and sweet sigh left her soft lips. Eyes adjusting from the focus she had put into reading, and back to the live Grand Hall.

Soon the sound of an almost fast paced strut echoed her perfect ears, before a something cool and glossy was present to her lips. A well practised tone of voice ringing perfectly through Persephone's ears. Stiffening in her place, the girl found herself tucking her book to her lap. Grasping the hardcover spine awkwardly, watching the pale lanky hand grasp a newspaper from the pile. Curious orbs of greenish-yellow, Percy peaked at the glamorous figure at her side.

I wish that I could look that good in make up, Felix never fails to impress. Perce thought to herself, not wanting to spike the ego of her former so-called friend. Time had changed them so much, Felix the most it seemed. In a sense Percy felt happy for him, it was good to see he had some confidence now, even if it was an overbearing amount. Smirking lightly at the sudden change of Felix's expression after he read the front page of lies, it was strangely appealing seeing such a different expression on the fashionable man's face.

Taking note of his sudden sitting down, and leaning forward like a gossiping old lady would over a fence to her neighbour. Rolling her eyes slightly, Persephone rested her head into the palm of her hand, elbow falling into place on the table's surface. "It's a simple and not as interesting as the dribble on that page. Alistair was feeling sick, so I helped him to the room he rented. Halfway up the stairs he was beginning to get heavy, and August stepped in to help out." Pulling a tight lipped smile Percy, her tone held a venomous bite of sarcasm. Annoyed by Felix's almost sudden interest in her life again, before sighing resting back up rubbing at her aching temples. "Anyway, why are you taking a sudden interest in wither I got "laid" or not?" Percy asked rather bluntly, speaking back to him in a dulled down tone, moving her scarred hands up then moving her fingers downward to pretend she was quoting something.

---

 

[Nemopedia]

Dancing Script;

Melinda Geralds

Tears sprang into Melinda's eyes as Alistair continued to taunt her. His words of last night emerged once more as she felt herself struggle with getting a grip on her thoughts and words. She? A blood traitor? The Gryffindor felt like vomiting as the accusation reached her ears, her breath hitching as she tried to fight back the burning sensation behind her eyes.

She hated this. She hated Maurice, the whole school, whoever wrote the awful article, her decision to go to the party, Alistair, her life, but above all; herself. Melinda hated everything at the moment, but mostly herself. Oh, how she hated every decision and breath she had taken up until this moment. How she knew she was going to despise every moment thereafter.

When Heather popped up between to light up the fire further the Gryffindor had half the mind to throw her tea in the face of the Slytherin, the muscles of her jaw tight as she focused on the ever moving ceiling of the Great Hall. A vague drizzle of rain was displayed, but none of the cool water she longed for hit her.

"You. Are. A. Sleaze," Melinda hissed at the male, her eyes slowly turning towards her fiancé again once she felt she had calmed down. Repeating her words with malice the girl then gathered her belongings, deciding that she had enough. Heather could fill the boy in on his own hypocrisy. Though Melinda doubted that the blondine would do anything that would help Geralds.

"Ask your better half what happened, he stood right next to me" she spat at Alistair before promptly turning around to stride out of the Great Hall. Of all people to call her a blood traitor he did? Melinda was bristling by the thought of it. The nerve he had after bedding a half-blood!

 

[FieryCold]

---

ALISTAIR BLACKBOURNE​

---

THE VERY MOMENT those acidic words left his mouth, a certain blonde sauntered over to Melinda's side, her malicious agenda evidently clear on her face and by the way she tutted at them. Another wave of annoyance overcame Alistair as he regarded the girl with disdain, but if she noticed it, she paid no mind, instead continuing on with her patronizing rebuttal.

"Now, now, Blackbourne. It's quite unfair of you to be calling out your fiancée for being unfaithful when you yourself had quite the tryst last night," Heather said. "Cheating on her with two others, a guy and a friend of yours!" She followed her accusations with a feigned gasp, shaking her head as a disappointed mother would to a naughty child.

"Shove off," Alistair replied with a force he didn't know he had. The article about him was clearly slanderous in nature and based on lies. Melinda's on the other hand, proved to be at least partly based on truth. Theirs were two entirely different circumstances, and Alistair would not stand to be called a hypocrite when he believed he had done nothing wrong.

"You are a sleaze," Melinda repeated her words from earlier as he had dared her to do, each word punctuated with a certain calm hostility for effect. She bent over the table to gather her things. "Ask your better half what happened, he stood right next to me," she continued, emphasizing the thinly-veiled insult.

Those last few words barely registered in his head, however, for he was too livid at her daring response to think of much else. He would not let her have the last word, he thought, as the woman turned on her heel and flounced away.

"Don't you dare walk away from me, Geralds! I'm not through with you yet," he stumbled on her name, having had half a mind to call her something far more dreadful. He tailed after her just long enough to give one final blow. "I won't stand in the way between you and your filthy half-breed beast. I'm calling the engagement off, just you see!"

- Location:
The Great Hall, Hogwarts
- Interactions:
Heather Clarke @darkflames13
Melinda Geralds [FONT=Georgia]@Nemopedia[/FONT]

Colour tag: #339966
​

 

[Bubs]

Lauren Harrison

Seventh Year Hufflepuff

Laurie was careful in her steps towards the Grand Hall, moving around with a little wobble on each step. The muggle-born hadn't felt that gross before, this was a whole new level of things. Sensitive orbs of brilliant blue, pale fingertips glossed along walls leading to the entrance of the Grand Hall. Between few and far students still pouring in and out of the vast doors. Standing at the doorway Lauren took in a huff of alluring and inviting smells. How good that food smelt to her in a time like this.

Walking on over to the Hufflepuff table, Laurie flopped down in a seat very quickly getting to business filling the plate in front of her. Wiping back her drool on the sleeve of her cloak, the girl couldn't contain herself when it came to food. Chomping down on a piece of toast in her mouth, the bread waving around in her mouth as her hands worked on stuffing her plate with all the goodness close to her. Crumbs fell all over her uniform, the slightest smug of apricot jam stained the young badger's nose. Giggling in utter childish delight with her mouth full, she poured herself some tea. Few fellow students of her house merely stared at Lauren Harrison pear-shaped.

Skilled at finishing her toast without hands, the ginger badger sighed struggling to make a tough decision of which of the next tasty treats on her plate shall she eat. Decisions like this were worse then trying to win at Wizard's Chess with Annie, or completing the mathematics equations. Finally settling on a tart Laurie picked it up and smiled lightly. Munching into the custard and pastry. Letting a satisfied groan leave her, eyes rolling back into her head momentarily. Breakfasts in the Grand Hall were so lavish compared to her small modest home, run but many crazy siblings, and two doting parents.

Blue orbs of the badger seemed to crawl around the Grand Hall, observing everyone. Taking in all the mannerisms all the other houses hand, some were loud and outspoken like her, or proud and polite like Annie. I guess it just comes with who you are, muggle-born, pure-blood, half-blood. The troublesome little ginger thought resting her head into her open palm. Noticing the large numbers of papers on the tables. First day of class and the newspapers full of normal lies are already stacked high. Some even lingered along the floors near tables... Maybe turning up late to the party was a bad idea... Laurie wondered what could have happened, taking another from her delectable custard tart. Taking in the feeling of her very slowly filling stomach.

Crumble messily collecting at the corner of Lauren's lips, as she decided to turn back in on her table. Speaking with another fellow outcast, another muggle-born. He was new, share and bubbly, the very embodiment of how she was on her first day. Bubbly, and scared out of her wits until she met Annie on the Hogwarts Express. "You should be fine! Just need to find friends or a friend that would like you for who you are! Because that's super important. My best friend is the Head Girl of Ravenclaw. Her name is Anastasia Fitzgerald, but I call her Annie. If you ever get lost or scared you can always talk to her, and she'd be willing to help. She's helped me back to the Hufflepuff Basement a number of times before." Laurie spoke with a light hearted giggle, a warm hue dancing along her pale cheeks. Almost as if she was still a little tipsy from the night before or the sugar was getting to her.

---

 

[FieryCold]

---

MILLICENT THOMSON​

---

THINGS WERE GOING almost exactly as planned. Mille tried to feel proud of herself as she lay on her bunk bed, imagining the argument that was now probably taking place between Geralds and that Blackbourne boy. All the same, however, she could not help but feel a sense of foreboding worming its way into her mind.

With clarity, she recalled Zed's face and the threats he had made the previous night. The audacity of him to think he could manipulate her into doing as he pleased! And yet, regret consumed her. Sparked by annoyance and a need to prove that arrogant pureblood wrong (because no, she would not be told what to do!) Millie had done the brash thing and published the article anyway.

It was certainly not her smartest move. Zed might have been a bumbling fool, but his twin brother Alistair was not. He would report her, she knew, for being an unregistered animagus. They would send her off to Azkaban in a heartbeat.

Azkaban. The very definition of all that is dreadful.

Spurred by a newfound energy, or perhaps it was nerves, she hopped back onto her feet and swiftly changed into feline form. There must be someplace in this vast castle where she could hide... at least until all this blows over and she could figure out a way to escape. It would mean living a life on the run, but at the very least she would be free.

- Location:
Ravenclaw Tower
- Mentions:
Alistair Blackbourne
Melinda Geralds @Nemopedia
Zedekiah Blackbourne @darkflames13
​

 

[darkflames13]

Asher gave a wry smile at the Turk's remark regarding his friend and nodded as he left, levitating his sleeping friend with him. The Slytherin then looked towards the so called loudmouth and held back the chuckle that threatened to come out. Only Joan could stumble over someone despite being cautious to avoid them. He shook his head and moved to help her up.

Shortly after, they were headed back towards the castle. The trip was a quick one and before he realised it, they now faced the passageway's entrance behind the statue. Asher moved ahead of the group and poked his head out to check if the coast was clear. Perhaps he was being overly cautious considering that most were likely already in the Great Hall, but one can never be too careful. Seeing no one roaming around the vicinity, he stepped out and motioned for his friends to do the same.

He sighed, feeling relieved that they'd somehow made it without getting caught. This was short lived however as a voice sounded through the halls.

"Where are you little house elf?"

It didn't take long for Asher to realise that the voice belonged to one of their professors. Immediately he felt his whole body tense up. Not knowing what else to do, he quickly turned back to his companions and frantically motioned for them to go back into the passageway, but it was too late. The professor was exiting one of the classrooms on the very corridor they were in and stopped at the sight of students wandering the halls at this hour.

His eyes suspiciously narrowed at them and towards the open passageway they'd just exited from. "What do we have here? Students sneaking into the castle? Just where have you lot been?" The professor looked at each one of them, stopping to raise a brow when he reached Asher. The young man internally groaned at what he knew was to come.

"Mr Fay. I must say, I am quite surprised and very disappointed to catch a prefect sneaking about," Asher hung his head in shame and kept his eyes rooted to the floor.

The older man cleared his throat and swiftly issued their punishment. "Fifty points from each of you. See me in my office after your morning classes to discuss your detention. Now if you'll excuse me, I have a disraught house elf to find." He then moved past them, leaving the students before any of them could voice a complaint.

 

[FieryCold]

FELIX SLOAN

✯ ✯ ✯ ┆ we get ever so hot ! whether we like it or not !

With clear displeasure that was unlike her usual demeanor, Posey rested her elbow upon the table and cradled her head in her palm. The obvious eyeroll that she greeted Felix's presence with did not go unnoticed. She proceeded to shoot him down, somehow still managing to give him a bitter smile despite it all. Felix, in his surprise, was rendered into silence for a moment as she bounded her way to a semi-coherent, almost desperate denial. Then, after all was said and done, she began to rub her temples as if their simple conversation had triggered a migraine.

"Anyway, why are you taking a sudden interest in whether I got "laid" or not?" She asked after a moment had passed, her voice still lined with the same fierce intensity with which she had spoken earlier. Something about that question snapped Felix out of his bewilderment and triggered him into a fit of giggles which he tried to conceal with his hand.

"Oh, sweetie, there's no need to get all defensive," Felix remarked, still smirking, as he regarded the platters of food on the table for the first time. Posey's lecture had made him hungry, but none of the food seemed at all appetizing. Wrinkling his nose at the sight of sausages and bacon, as though he could smell the oil oozing out of them, he opted for a banana instead. "I won't get my turn with those boys if I don't do my research. Opportunity doesn't always come knocking on your door, honey. You should know."

He began to peel the banana with a certain delicate flair, careful not to ruin his perfectly polished nails. Giving Posey a sideways glance, he continued, "If I were you, I'd have snogged the living daylights out of that Blackbourne boy." He took a bite of the banana and seemed to relish in it, closing his eyes for a moment and moaning just loud enough for the others to glance in their direction. He followed this with a tut, as though to chide her, "What a missed opportunity."

► ll

in for the kill - la roux

 

[Bubs]

Persephone Gaunt

Seventh Year, Slytherin

"No defences were placed, my words were merely truth, not lies that simple-minded folk of this school seem to take utter pleasure in. On another matter, you're never interested in my affairs Felix... So what changed?" The silver serpent stated quite bluntly, sighing. Percy no longer understood Felix, it had been so long since their time of being considered as friends. In truth she did miss the old company they shared, though drifting is quite natural when people took different paths, their ambitions had differences that would have only caused issues for each other, Persephone had understood that sometime ago.

Watching Felix's near orgasm at the taste of the banana dancing on his taste buds, bile merely burnt at the back of Percy's throat. Squirming clearly uncomfortable at his current taking pleasure in the fruit, and the overly obnoxious side of Felix making his meal of the piece of fruit. Persephone blushed at Felix's next comment about snogging a certain Blackbourne, the certain Blackbourne that Percy had been sweet and possibly romantic feelings towards since day one. Swallowing back the burning bile, the young woman allowed a moment of victory to Felix to make her feel flustered on talk of Alistair.

"It wouldn't be proper, I'm lucky enough to have Alistair possibly regard me as a friend." Percy's tone shifted, almost to a sad and softly spoken. A dull whisper only for Felix to hear, as she turned her head to face him. Sadness and almost a look of loneliness holding in her snake like eyes. "It would be completely selfish of me, if I acted... Felix, he's meant to get married to Melinda, I can't get in the way of that. The Gaunt family's reputation isn't regarded in the nicest light, even if I'm the only female left there's nothing left of my house, just a shitty old, and my grandfather's wand... That's nothing to measure in the world of Pure Bloods." Persephone sighed, resting her book back on the table, grasping the spine almost trying to understand the overcome of the last few months.

At Felix's taunt Percy pushed herself up, staring at him for a moment, feeling tears beginning to well in her eyes. "Not all of us can be like you. Some of us have greater consequences to consider. Have a good day, Mister Sloan. Always the pleasure." Persephone's had a hiss of painful venom as she withdrew herself, walking over the papers that Felix and she had dropped on the ground leaving a foot print on both, before making her way for the door. Book held tightly in hand. Power walking through the long stretching hallways, Percy's almost silver-white hair flowing at her side free from contact of her shoulders for a moment or two.

Stubbornly pushing back the tearing back from the owlery, before climbing the stairs covered with leaves of autumn. Crisp crunches echoing in the sad little serpent's ears, as she looked around for her owl. One of the only living things that she owned gifted by her family. Even if Percy and Odile the angry little horned owl her father brought her upon getting the letter of acceptance for Hogwarts. Coming face to face with the beautiful citrine eyes of her owl, Percy pulled a sad smile wandering over to her. Tears fell absently down her cheeks, lightly extending her hand to the angry looking bird.

A sudden sting caught her when Odile bit her, though Percy didn't seem to mind it anymore. "We were never met to become friends, but even then, I'll still love the happiness left of family in your presence. I remember how father beamed when he bought you..." Persephone told the horned owl before her, lightly stroking her head for the very-first time. Odile seemed to understand something about Percy was trying to say in that moment, which was a comfort to the seventh year Slytherin. For once they were on a mutual ground, as Percy settled down on the steps of the owlery lightly tending to her bleeding hand, wiping falling tears with the sleeve of her jumper. "Gosh, I'm pathetic..." Persephone whispered softly to herself, gazing to the cloudy sky with glassy eyes.

---

 

[Bubs]

Anastasia 'Annie' Fitzgerald

Seventh Year Ravenclaw

The raven's brown-gray eyes watched, and almost desperately hoping for an appearance from her badger friend. Time seemed to pass slowly as she curiously eyed the door, no doubt looking somewhat scary to the others around her with the intense expression on her face. Perfectly shaped brown eyebrows knitted tightly together in worry for her little muggle-born friend Lauren Harrison, who wasn't ever late for food, especially free food. About to raise from her seat, Annie finally caught a glimpse of a small ginger mess of hair wander into the Grand Hall, causing the Ravenclaw Head Girl to ease in her stress and worries.

Good, food brought the badger from her basement... Annie thought with an escaping sigh of relief. Her pale hand lightly resting at the peaks of her chest. Before slipping back to the table, almost making an audible 'thud' on the table before her, yet no pain was felt as she was still caught on thoughts. Shaking her head, watching her friend stuff her mouth like a squirrel or chipmunk who had found some food. Noticing with time she was talking to a new first year, Anastasia felt almost sorry for the first year. Laurie will either scare the shit out of the poor kid with her open personality, or make herself look like an idiot... Worse case both... Time to step in... Annie thought, drawing herself up from the Ravenclaw table, heading over to the Hufflepuff table. Resting her hand on the bubbly clearly still tipsy badger, that reeked of butterbeer through sweat.

"Morning Laurie, are you scarring the first year? Please don't, it's our job to leave a good impression..." Annie sighed, before an echo of a gross 'burp', then audible and duly noted 'belch'. Leaving the red head badger clutching over her small hand over mouth, trying to swallow back whatever was trying to come back up. Making Anastasia become increasingly nervous for the safety of her nicely cleaned and ironed uniform, or possibly the cleanliness of the Hufflepuff firing range of Lauren vomit if it dared to make itself apparent.

What followed wasn't a pretty sight to behold. Squirming back, Anastasia stepped back rather quickly as the contents of Lauren's overfilled stomach made itself known, spilling forth onto the table through the food, and onto the poor, poor, poor newly sorted badger in front of her. Reaching forth, Annie said a little pray for her uniform leaning forward gripping Lauren's jumper collar, jerking her back enough so the vomit would at least be on the floor rather than coating the other Hufflepuffs around her. Some food wasn't even digested and looked like they originally were, which made Anastasia shiver, and groan with a rolling gag of discomfort.

Nicely polished shoes, and crisply cleaned socked were now stained in shades of the rainbow of vomit that Lauren delightfully spewed forth. An expression of utter shock and disgust held on the pureblood's face, as she stared down at her limp muggle-born friend slumped on the bench she was once sitting one. "Really, Lauren Harrison... It's the first day of classes... And now you're a mess... Not only smelling like butterbeer, but now of vomit and vile custard tart that you threw up..." Annie couldn't help but scoff, groaning in discomfort coming to the conclusion that some of the contents on her feet had managed to get into her shoes as well.

---

 

[Nemopedia]

Dancing Script;

Melinda Geralds

As if part of some romantic drama Alistair decided to give chase to the girl. Calling after her as he threatened to break off their engagement. A thought Melinda certainly wouldn't mind. Just, not like this. Not with her reputation slandered and her person scandalised.

"You won't be stepping between anything," she bristled back in a hiss. Turning around sharply she gave him one fierce glare before her eyes shifted to the crowd. For a moment her posture faltered as she wondered why they had to do it here. Here, where all the people were. Didn't Alistair hold a bit of courtesy within?

She decided that the whole scene didn't win the prize for sophistication. It was a scene, a huge one, theatrical and unreal.

"I, however, don't oppose to breaking off the engagement if that rooms me out of your way," the Gryffindor breathed, suddenly feeling small and tired. The day had barely started and already she felt like she had gone through three lives and an eternity.

Merlin, can this day end now?

 

[Nemopedia]

Garaile had gone back to the dorms once he realised that all the excitement had died down. Reason being that his utensils were all in the dormitory and that he had to be early in order to get ahead of his plans.

It had been a long night, but it paid off. The paper was out and Garaile was ready to see what havoc he had caused this time.

Surprisingly upbeat for someone who supposedly had an all-nighter (though everyone involved knew he had his goons to do the labour) the boy skipped his way to lunch, eyes peering around with interest to see if anyone had noticed yet.

There at the Gryffindor table Alistair and Melinda were fighting, a dumbstruck Zed spacing out before he snatched himself a copy. Delightful! The blond could just imagine that idiot Maurice trying to patch everything up. What a gentle giant was all not good for.

Then, somewhere else he saw Felix and Persephone. Another peculiar pair and by their expressions Garaile coukd just guess what they were talking about. Brilliant, and they just so happened to be housemates as well. Time to stir trouble.

Making his way over to the pair Garaile's smile piqued up when he realised that Persephone was showing some unusual spunk, speaking in a harsh tone that was so unlike her usual sweet demeanour. Perhaps there was some Slytherin in her after all.

"Not all of us can be like you. Some of us have greater consequences to consider," he heard the girl say and the Weasel's eyes popped open even wider. There was more that followed, but this was all he needed. This, just those lines, they were like music to his ears. The tune of scandal already playing.

And when the girl hurried herself away, leaving Felix alone Garaile grabbed his chance.

"Oh. My. God," he slid into a seat across of Felix smacking his lips as he put forth his best impersonation of his housemate.

"Can you believe what she just said?" he gasped theatrically, scandal written all over his face as he waved his hand. Felix was such a great person to mimic for fun.

"If I didn't know any better it almost feels like an attack to your blood status," he continued, tone same as ever before he took a sandwich and bit into it, making sure his lips didn't touch the bread. He couldn't have 'Felix' smudge his lipstick on his watch, right?

"But of course she wouldn't, right? Like, she may be a pureblood and she hangs out with those, but she wouldn't, right?" he continued, munching on the bread as he rolled his eyes.

 

[Nemopedia]

How he had sneaked into Hogwarts with a floating Henry —still fast asleep— was beyond the foreigner. But he managed and he didn't get caught. That was the most important thing of all and all that mattered at the moment other than a dire need for coffee and some food.

Floating the Hufflepuff into the Great Hall August yawned and stretched himself a few good times before considering to look for a spot to sit at. He ignored the staring eyes and hushed voices surrounding him in the meanwhile as his eyes glided over to the Hufflepuff table, deciding that he should park Henry with a few more familiar faces. The Hufflepuff table was filled and was probably better prepared for the sleeping boy that surely would wake up once the smell of breakfast registered.

"Morning," he greeted to both Anastasia and Laurie, dropping the Asian boy on the seat next the Ravenclaw sat down as he reached for some coffee and sugar almost instantaneously. Bringing the cup to his lips almost as fast as Henry could scourge down food the Turk's face cleared up. That hit the spot.

He considered both the head girl and the red head to be sort of friends, if not just friendly acquaintances. Anastasia for the reason that they both shared the role of caretaker over a few badgers (read: Hufflepuff friends) and Laurie through connection.

"Don't worry about Henry, he won't skip breakfast," he reassured the two with a smile, finally feeling a little more human again.

August Yilmaz

 

[Nemopedia]

Emrys 'Ambrose' Jernigan

It didn't take too long for the group to reach the school. Asher knew a secret passageway that cut their traveltime considerably, which Emrys could appreciate seeing the small time-frame they were working with. However, when the brunetter came to a halt and tried to urge them back Emrys just knew that everything had been way too easy for them.

And it was. As the teacher caught them Emrys started to glare into the direction of Asher, making sure that the other knew the mute was displeased with his friend. Of course the Hufflepuff knew that the other couldn't help it that an house elf happened to be distraught and a teacher went to look for it, but couldn't Asher at least have posted someone on a watch? He seemed to have enough girlfriends for that.

To make it even worse they were down fifty points each. Each! Which meant that Hufflepuff lost not fifty, but a grand total of hundred fifty! Plus detention! The school year had barely started, but Emrys was already the most hated boy of the house, he just knew it.

And for that Asher deserved all the more to be glared at.