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Tempestas - A Storm is Brewing

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[03 Dec 2004|01:27am]

[ mood | contemplative ]

The small fourth year girl drew in a deep breath as she shifted in her chair at the table by the window. She wasn't sure how long it had been since she had begun, but the sun had gone down many hours ago and she was left looking out into an abyss of darkness when she raised her head from the large text in which she had nearly buried herself. There was a time for everything and for now, there was homework to be done and she couldn't let her mind wander. Rubbing her eyes, she kept a yawn hidden behind her sleeve before resolving to return to her work once again.

Seamus had, in typical Seamus fashion, just made it into the library fifteen seconds before Madame Pince was set to close it, to quickly pick up the Potions manual he would need to complete the last part of his homework for Professor Snape. A quick scanning of the shelves, and he'd found the book he needed, but also a petite, dark-haired girl buried behind a huge tome. He recognized her in an instant, and grinned. "Emma!"

Her slumped shoulders straightened as she drew her head upwards and let her eyes fall upon the his face. She looked surprised, but not in the least upseted by the greeting, though she did not smile. With a quick, decisive nod, she lifted her hand and beckoned him over to her table. It was late enough that the library was empty, and she needn't worry about who was watching whom. "Hello, Seamus," she replied softly.

"Whatever are ye doing here so late?" he asked, taking in the purple smudges under her blue eyes and the drooping eyelids. "You look like you need some rest, lass."

She had been distracted easily these past few weeks, and had managed to fall behind in nearly all of her classes. This wasn't ready to share this sort of thing yet. "Homework," she answered simply, knowing he'd understand. "It knows no time of man."

"Ah, yes," he sighed. "The necessary evil. I'm just here to pick up a book for my Potions assignment, before Madame Pince shuts this place down."

"Do you often wait until the last minute?" asked Emma, no mocking in her voice. She seemed amused, perhaps.

"Only on Potions," he reassured her solemnly, before a thought seemed to enter his head. "Say, how about we go for some food and cocoa in the kitchens... a brief break? And then the homework can be finished after that, hmm?" His voice softened in concern. "You look about to fall asleep here, and that wouldn't be good."

It was true that she had just previously nearly nodded off, but she wouldn't admit that. "Well..." she began, eyes flitting back to the nearly-complete Transfiguration essay sitting on the table before her. She wouldn't mind the cocoa, or the company. "...I suppose."

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a nice night to fall out, of sorts [23 Nov 2004|02:39am]

[ mood | discontent ]

Blaise suddenly sat up on his bed. "Draco!"

He was met with a slightly raised eyebrow from across the room.

"We should go for a walk." Blaise checked the darkness falling onto the school grounds through the window. "Yes, right now would be good."

Draco glanced up from the parchment he was neatly scrawling his weekly letter to his mother on, "a walk?" he asked skeptically. The blond slowly set down his quill and papers. "Now why would I want to do that... with you?" His eyebrow raised a bit more and a small hint of laughter was apparent in his voice.

"Because you end up doing so most of the time, if I ask nicely," Blaise replied lightly. "And I'm a nice bloke." He bounded to where his scarf and mitts and winter things were tossed haphazardly onto a chair, and began to put them on. "Go on, then. Let's skip the arm-twisting and get out there. We need some fresh air," he said, wrinkling his nose. "I've been indoors for too long."

Draco stood up slowly, stretching his arms above his head, bones cracking as he did so. "A nagging bloke is more like it..." Draco muttered under his breath as he threw an expensive cloak over his shoulders and brushed a lock of blond hair from his eyes. "At a risk of having to hear you complain about it for the rest of the evening... I'll go." He stepped toward the door.

What say we try to rouse ol' ErmitrudeCollapse )

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[22 Nov 2004|11:42pm]

[ mood | moody ]

It was more than an hour after dinner, and the Great Hall was all but deserted. And yet, Harry still sat at the Gryffindor table, his head resting on his arms. All the other students had left, but he wanted to be alone where he could think.

Lisa had left earlier on with most of her friends and had stalled near the exit from the Great Hall near the grand staircase as she waited to see if he would pass. Two months into the school year, and they had barely had any time together. And now, after the attack . . . . Lisa Turpin now approached the Great Hall again. She was almost positive she hadn't seen him pass her by.

The enchanted ceiling overhead was dark now-- lit only with a slender waning crescent moon and a few stars. Harry sighed, and wondered drearily if green skulls and serpents would glow overhead if there were another attack.

She made a point of not going into the Great Hall between meals, it was always so large and so quiet. Now, at night, it felt far too dark. The teenage Ravenclaw was hesitant as she pulled open the large creaking door and entered slowly.

Harry belatedly heard the door to the Great Hall opening, but didn't look up. At that particular moment, he didn't much care if some self-righteous Prefect took it into his or her head to take points. There were more dire things.

Though he made no effort to look in her direction, Lisa could make out his familiar face in the dark. He was slouched over the Gryffindor table at the far end of the hall, staring away from her. She felt no impulse to speak, so instead she slowly walked toward him and slid into the seat on the bench beside him.

Gradually, Harry realized who it was that had entered, walked over and sat down next to him. He gave a brief nod in acknowledgement, but was unsure what exactly to say.

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[22 Nov 2004|05:25pm]

[ mood | anxious ]

Private Owl to Harry PotterCollapse )

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[22 Nov 2004|05:07pm]

[ mood | stressed ]

Jasmine had been pouring over books all day, yet found very little to satisfy her curiousity. She couldn't understand why others' emotions were so strong to her; and the different ones bombarding her at any given point overwhelmed her to the point she was drawing herself back from the crowd--again. She'd made much progress last year in coming out of her shell, but this year, she was reminded why she went there in the first place. Growing up, she was always vulnerable to others' feelings, and consequently, hers were put on display far more than she preferred. She was a target to her peers, often teased and taunted; the shell protected herself from the mean kids, as well as from their feelings.

Now the emotional bombardment was back, tenfold. None of the books she'd read so far had any solutions on how to stop it, either.

Jasmine sighed, turning another page, praying something would give her the information she needed.

Lisa Turpin, seated on the other side of the library, was laboring over her newest assignment. This time last year, she could've waited until the last minute to do it and then turned it in and received full marks. But she was too stressed and too tired only two months into the school year to attempt that. Chat between friendsCollapse )

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[12 Nov 2004|10:55pm]

[ mood | flirty ]

"Very well done, Ms. Spinnet. You handled the situation marvelously and improved our reputation for going the extra mile for our clients. You are to be commended."

Alicia, despite being tired both physically and emotionally after all the recent events, compounded by more personal ones with the trials and finally the last hearing for the man who tried to mar her fiancé’s reputation, still found herself blushing at the high praise from the head of Eglantine Price Inc. "Thank you very much," she said, shaking the elderly witch’s hand.

Formalities over, she was swamped by others, reporters and witnesses and other important officials, and she felt the strong need to get away. She was tired and wanted to rest and talk with Ter, who had likewise been pounced upon leaving the building. All she knew was that she was glad Shane would be behind bars.

Terence looked over at Alicia and frowned. She looked exhausted. Fighting his way through the crowds to where she stood surrounded by people, he slipped his hand into hers. "We're leaving, you've all had enough of our time," he said firmly, pulling her closer to him.

Nodding his head towards the security wizards, he waited until they'd cleared a space around them before lifting his wand and Apparating them to the flat.

almost married lifeCollapse )

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[written by self. apologies to Sky for any discrepancies there might exist with R.] [11 Nov 2004|02:52pm]

[ mood | sad ]

This is it.

She had been smiling so much, and for so long, that she herself could almost believe that it was all right, really.

Like she wasn't sending her parents away until heaven-knows-when across an ocean because of the war.

goodbye...Collapse )

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[11 Nov 2004|04:31pm]

The scrawny, clearly starved and injured black and grey flecked Owl barely managed to make it to its destination with the heavy message before collapsing in a dead heap... Perhaps that was what the sender had intended. No one could trace a dead owl after all.

Owl to Severus SnapeCollapse )
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[10 Nov 2004|01:53am]

[ mood | worried ]

Miles Bletchley wasn't an idiot. He knew that the Gringotts goblins would never consent to letting him take a few days off to visit Britain-- despite the circumstances. The goblins weren't known for their general sympathy to human hardship. Of this fact, Miles was very aware.

Which was why, two hours after he had gotten off of work, after a snippy conversation with the surly operator of an international floo office and quite a few galleons spent, he was stepping through green flames that would transport him to the Leaky Cauldron.

From there, he flooed to Hogwarts, entering the school through the kitchens and making his quick way down the main corridor. Stepping in front of the first Slytherin he saw-- a small girl who looked like a first-year, he curtly asked her the whereabouts of their 7th year female Prefect.

The girl pointed vaguely down a hall. "She has studying sessions with a tutor of some sort in the Ancient Runes classroom once a week... but they should be done soon."

"Thank you," Miles answered, and headed down the Ancient Runes corridor without a backwards glance.

In the classroom, unaware that anyone was conversing about her, Pansy Parkinson stowed the books she'd been lent by Bill Weasley, said tutor, in her schoolbag. It had been a long few days; Seventh Year was as hard as Chang had said it would be, even without the news that her sister's murderer was now on the lam from Azkaban.

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[09 Nov 2004|01:40am]

Pansy Parkinson was taking full enjoyment of the first official Hogsmeade visit of the year, strolling up the High Street towards the Three Broomsticks and a hot butterbeer when she encountered the poster.

A sneering, growling face she'd not seen ... since a cold day, in a cold courtroom, the day he'd been convicted of the murder of her sister and Miles' entire family. The idea that Mikel Dobbs was once again free turned her insides to ice, and she stood frozen for several moments watching the image.

You'll be next, she could almost see him mouth, and without thinking she turned away from the Three Broomsticks, in the direction of the post office .. and their international express owls. No time for a poky school owl.

"Parchment," she spat at the young wizard, obviously not much older than herself, who stood behind the counter. He blinked at her several times before gaining comprehension of the girl who had clearly taken mad, and pulling a sheaf from under the counter, clearly hoping that if he didn't test her, she would simply go away, and not turn into a banshee.

She scrawled furiously, taking no care, wasting no time.

Owl to Miles BletchleyCollapse )

She folded the parchment carelessly, unconsciously slicing her finger on its edge as she gazed over the owls waiting for a commission. "How does miss wish to send this letter?" the postkeep queried.

She looked at him, a hard edge in her glance. "International express." She pulled the galleons she'd been looking forward to dropping at Madam Armelie's from her pouch and dropped them on top of the missive.

Her heart much heavier than it had been that morning, she returned to the castle, hoping for an owl from her parents. Dress robes and butterbeer would have to wait.
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[09 Nov 2004|12:49am]

[ mood | curious ]

Emma Dobbs could feel the November wind practically pushing her all the way to Hogsmeade. It came from behind, blowing her dark hair into her face and causing her to constantly push it out of her face. As was normal for her, she walked alone and very much in silence the entire way, thinking about what had happened in the world hardly a week before and if the Daily Prophet had accurately reported everything. It didn't exactly have the greatest track record, and she wanted to use the Hogsmeade visit as an excuse to do just a bit of investigating.

Three steps into the village she had already found out more than she had needed to know. Tacked onto the wall of a store on the main street was a Wanted poster, courtesy of Azkaban. Growling at her was the facade of one Mikel Dobbs, emphasized be the words "ESCAPED" and "EXTREMELY DANGEROUS." She didn't have to look at it twice bfore she was running against the wind back to the safety of Hogwarts. Hair blowing wildly behind her, she didn't stop until she was within the castle doors, and nearly in the arms of someone unexpected.

Seamus Finnigan had remained behind that weekend, mostly due to a Potions exam that promised to be a beast looming up ahead next week. He was on his way to the kitchen after memorizing the uses of dragon tears from different species of dragon when a small, cold figure came barreling in from outside, rushing blindly in his direction. He barely had time to react before she was in his arms.

He looked down, and his eyes widened in recognition. It was... her. The Slytherin girl with the lonely eyes.

In which Seamus and Emma talk for the first timeCollapse )

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[05 Nov 2004|01:38pm]

[ mood | annoyed ]

*Took place on October 31st before the attacks*

Marcus slammed into the locker room, wincing as his shoulder twinged. Looking around, he sighed. Bloody hell, they had a new trainer, someone that the others on the team had raved over, so where the heck was she? Supposedly she was turning into one of the best in the league and the Falcons had been lucky to get her to sign on with them.

He sat down on the bench and tried to pull off his sweat-soaked shirt, cursing loudly as pain shot down his arm. Standing up again, he walked further into the room, sitting down on one of the massage tables. "Oy, anyone here?"

"Just a minute!" a friendly voice called back. Murmurs and footsteps could be heard coming from an adjacent room, and two women appeared, one stocky and short-haired toweling off the sweat from her brow and the other younger with dirty-blond hair swept into a loose ponytail.

"Thanks again, Kates," the older woman was saying as she slung the towel over her shoulders. "Those exercises really help the leg!"

"I'm glad they're working," 'Kates' beamed. "Just keep me posted if anything changes."

"Will do!" And with a wave, the Falcons Chaser left, neither of them hardly noticing the man waiting on the table.

Marcus stared and then shook his head. No fucking way! The new trainer was Katie Bell...Collapse )

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[02 Nov 2004|01:52pm]

Owl to M. BletchleyCollapse )
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[01 Nov 2004|11:06pm]

Cassius strode back through the doors of Hogwarts early that morning, his broom slung over his shoulder and a solemn expression on his face. His building had been luckier than some-- a smaller place had been entirely obliterated not too far away-- but for the moment, he was still unable to return home while there were repairs being made. Quietly, he made his way down the familiar hallway, ignoring looks of surprise coming from younger students.

Pansy was on her way to the Great Hall for a spot of breakfast when she saw a face she recognized -- a face that shouldn't be there under normal circumstances. "Cassius Warrington!" she called out as she approached him. "What are you doing back at school?"

"Pansy," Cassius managed a wan smile for his friend, and walked over towards her. "It's... a long story, why I'm here. How are you doing this term?"

"Things are fine. What's wrong?" she said, her eyes darting back and forth as she took in his features, and the fatigue and wariness they displayed.

"So... nothing unusual has happened here, then?" Cassius ventured, breathing a sigh of relief. "That's good." He paused, and took Pansy's arm gently. "I think we should sit down before I tell you what has happened."

"Sit down?" Pansy's mind reeled. "Oh no," she mumbled.

Cassius led her over to the Slytherin table, which was still fairly empty. He paused, before saying in a quiet voice. 'There's been an attack in Hogsmeade.'Collapse )
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Painting [01 Nov 2004|09:16pm]

A soft breeze blew a few strands of sandy-coloured hair across Blaise's vision, and he pushed them aside with the end of this brush, never taking his eyes off the horizon. The white cliffs in the distance stood in quiet majesty, impressing a sense of reverence in the young man who stood before the panorama like a single bloom in an emperor's garden. His eyes flickered from landscape to canvas and back again, wrist and fingers working in a calm fury that only others like him could perceive. He was creating what was already in existence; paying homage to the source of his inspiration; doing that which others do to survive, like breathing. Minutes or hours passed in silence and chaos and serenity.

Hermione was walking briskly, wanting to get back to her common room as soon as possible. She wasn't thinking, only allowing her feet to take her back to the tower, as she didn't want to think about anything at all until she was within the safety of her friends. She rounded another corner on the fourth floor and slowed down slightly, not wanting to go fast enough to cause a sweat. Throughout the corridor, she swore she heard something - water softly breaking among the rocks or something of that sort.

She shook it off and continued on her way and was half way up the staircase to the fifth floor when, on a whim, she turned back. She quickly jogged back to the corridor and paused, listening for the sound and noting that it was coming from a door.

Hermione took in a deep breath and opened it.Collapse )
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[same as the other log, sorry it's late] [01 Nov 2004|02:16pm]

[ mood | scared ]

"There are so many other things you can be doing with your life other than Quidditch, Cho," Mrs. Chang was sighing as she spoke to her daughter. "You know that with your scores on the NEWTs, you could be a researcher in the Department of Experimental Charms." That was the path that Mrs. Chang had taken herself, so many years ago. But her daugher shook her head.

"This is something I do well," Cho murmured. "Besides, it makes me happy." She didn't think it prudent to mention the group that she'd be joining-- outside of playing reserve Seeker for the Montrose Magpies. It was information that would only worry her mother more, and besides, the less who knew about that, the better.

And the afternoon talk, with a shocking endingCollapse )

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[yeah, yeah, supposed to have been posted on the 31st... bear with me, I had a 14 hour workday] [01 Nov 2004|12:22pm]

[ mood | shocked ]

For the first time that week, Cassius Warrington was able to leave his office early, and the young businessman arrived at his Hogsmeade flat at half-past four, determined to spend the rest of the evening doing anything but paperwork.

He had just send his tawny owl off, with a package of Honeydukes sweets and a letter, towards the direction of Hogwarts for his sister, when a frightened screech pierced the air outside.

And Hogsmeade is attacked...Collapse )

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A Slytherin Perspective [01 Nov 2004|12:48am]

[ mood | blank ]

"Draco, I've a present for you," chirped Blaise as the other blonde boy strolled into their dormitory that night. The former had a reputation of being uncharacteristically friendly, charming, and generally sociable for a Slytherin pure blood, inadvertently gaining himself a flustered following of admirers from each house, to which he was maddeningly oblivious. Being in a rather amiable temperament, as was usual, he decided he was going to be generous to one of his oldest and closest friends. Blaise sprawled himself on luxurious satin sheets and gestured with a finger for his present company to come closer.

Draco raised an eyebrow as he slipped his pack from his shoulder onto his bed. He shook his head as his friend lounged and beckoned him over. "I'm not one of you harem Blaise..." he snorted as he hung his robes up in a wardrobe and loosened his tie. Finally comfortable, he looked over at Blaise. "What's the occasion?" He asked curiously.

My sister's finally snapped. Well, again, Blaise thought. "Since when have we needed occasion? Or if you must, it's All Hollow's Eve. More people should give gifts instead of carving pumpkins and the like, if you ask me. That only gets you messy and orange." He reached for a package on his bedside table. "Here you go, then," he said as Draco came to the foot of his four-poster. The young man watched with sparkling green eyes as the recipient inspected the elaborate gift box.

It's the G sortCollapse )

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[31 Oct 2004|09:59pm]

[ mood | worried ]

This couldn't be happening--not now, not when things had been so quiet for so long . . .

Dumbledore just told them of the attacks, and Jasmine was dangerously close to hypervenilating. Hundreds of emotions bombarded her--the bulk of them not hers--and she felt herself struggle for breath. She stood weakly, her appetite vanishing immediately upon the news. She looked towards the Ravenclaw table, anxious to find a certain pair of blue eyes. To the Hufflepuff Common RoomCollapse )

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[31 Oct 2004|09:12pm]

[ mood | stressed ]

The sun was setting outside, crimson streaks across a dusky blue sky. It was rather warm for October, and the captain of the Appleby Arrows was smiling slightly as he called the end of practice and ushered everyone towards the locker rooms.

It took only a short while for Angelina Johnson to change out of her practice gear and into her street clothes. This was her second year with the Arrows, and while that thrill she always felt after a good practice remained, she now longed to hurry home to the flat she shared with her boyfriend-turned-fiance. Angie tied her hair up in a loose knot, threw her bag over her shoulder and left the practice pitch after offering a quick goodbye to her teammates. Once off the practice grounds, she apparated to

Diagon Alley, not far from her home. She usually stopped for a coffee or tea and to pick something up from a nearby cafe for supper. Today, however, instead of appearing in a calm, quiet street filled only with the soft chatter of people leaving work and heading home at the end of the day, the young woman found herself caught in a tight crowd of people.

"Is your floo working, Madame Girmwin?" a hysterical female voice sounded by one of the shops, which seemed in disarray. "I've tried Flourish's, Florian Fortescue's AND the Leaky Cauldron... WHAT IF MY SON WAS HURT?!"

Angelina, feeling immediately strangled in the crowd . . . Collapse )

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