An active, character-driven Hogwarts experience set in the early 2000s. Unique items, plots, and features. Non-canon; this isn't Harry Potter's story, it's ours.
Post by MJ Birdwhistle on Aug 26, 2022 14:25:45 GMT 10
"Don't worry about it too much. I think it's natural not to know if you don't follow the sport." MJ reassured her friend with a smile. She took a few more bites of her bacon butty and then poured herself a glass of orange juice.
"Yes please! It will be fun to go together and I will have new plants I haven't seen before either!" She just felt a bit sad she didn't have anything new to plant. Sadly, her allowance was running low and she was resisting buying anything else for now. New seeds and pots would just have to wait.
"Did you manage to plant something yourself then?" MJ took a sip of her orange juice before asking Charlotte this. She had noticed before that someone had planted some seeds near her own slots and wondered now if maybe they belonged to her roommate.
Post by Thorne Perry on Aug 26, 2022 20:08:22 GMT 10
Toast and tea devoured, bacon nibbled at, Thorne took a moment to contemplate breakfast, round two. The first thing that popped into his mind, though, was some fruit and nuts. He could take those for a snack later, right? He tucked an apple and a handful of nuts into his bag, and picked up a second apple, biting into it and licking the juice off his lips.
Apples were always so nice - crisp and sweet with just a hint of tartness. His grandda always insisted on growing apple trees along with the wand-wood trees, and Thorne had never once questioned why. That was one of those decisions that just made sense.
Last Edit: Aug 26, 2022 21:04:05 GMT 10 by Thorne Perry
Owl post was a disaster, as hundreds of soaked owls swooped into the Great Hall to deliver the Daily Prophet -- as well as any letters or packages from home. The mail itself seemed quite untouched, but the poor birds delivering them were wet and disgruntled.
Official post owls were more tolerant of it, looking exasperated more than anything, and those well-trained by students or staff faired as well -- but the rest were far more temperamental. Some dumped the post and left, others shook their feathers as dry as they could -- which resulted in water droplets flying everywhere like a shaking dog that had just gone for a swim. Then there were more than a handful of students getting bitten, if they didn't appreciate or reward the owl in time.
A few smaller owls even collapsed, taking a moment to regain their strength and wits about them before considering taking off again. Those were especially keen of bits of bacon, and gave strained hoots of gratitude in return.
As interested in many were in today's paper, there were sounds or surprise and intrigue -- as opening the newspaper allowed a piece of parchment to slip out. At first, it seemed to be an advertisement of some sort, but bore the Daily Prophet logo and everything. It was that time of year again; the Daily Prophet's Youth Reporter contest.
Professors weren't too thrilled, despite the topic always being focused on them and their achievements. But this year Hogwarts had many new Professors, so it would be quite a refreshing task for those hoping to win / get published in tomorrow's paper. The deadline certainly felt much sooner this year though, and was now open to all years not just N.E.W.T students as it was in the past.
Contest details found here-- everyone, please cast your vote for your character's favourite Professor ASAP (deadline is less than 48 hours).
~ Breakfast ended ~
The following letters were also delivered:
To: @charlotte
Good morning.
I was surprised to hear from you, but of course I do not mind. Things have been rather quiet here at the estate, with your parents still abroad until the summer. I'm not sure why I'm the one gifted with a letter from you to finish up my busy day, but it's a lovely surprise.
You don't need to thank me for the card, however. I know it's not the same as the one you were promised, which I'm sure would have been more beautiful -- but it was my gift to you, précieuse. The least of what you deserve.
I'm happy to hear you're enjoying Hogwarts, and I hope your siblings continue to as well. I'm not sure I know much about Potions Kits or Flying, so you'll have to fill me in sometime, but the Herbology Kit sounds exciting! Perhaps you'd like to help me in the gardens over the summer, if your parents permit it?
I just planted some rather lovely roses I think you'll enjoy. They dance if you sing to them, isn't that delightful? But I think it's wonderful you're broadening your skills, so well done from me. New experiences bring new perspectives, which are invaluable. I'm glad Hogwarts if giving you lots of new opportunities. I was worried for you at first, with the noise and crowds of that castle, but it seems you're a Doren through and through.
Hands-on learning can be very educational, yes. You've had some over the years, but your parents prefer other means of learning. Perhaps we could work something out? Such as helping me in the garden, or putting some of your newly-learned spells to use around the estate? I'll put in a good word for you, though they don't tend to listen to me either.
That Valentine's Party... does it truly matter, précieuse? Alas, you asked... I'm ashamed to say, I interrupted the party to inform your parents of their mistake. Your father came to check on you. He was the one who put you to bed. I only delivered your card, and ensured you had the right amount of blankets.
I am curious what has brought this up, but you needn't tell me. I assume it was it because you found the card? I am surprised you kept it. Though honoured, of course.
I hope this answers your questions. Thank you for writing, petite fleur. I enjoyed reading your letter over a cup of tea, winding down from the day. I have no expectation for you to write again. Even if this is the only letter I receive from you, know that it put a smile on my face.
Good luck at Hogwarts. I do hope you're prepared for any upcoming exams, and that you're making friends. I'll see you in the summer.
Your mother and I were sorry to hear about the Pitch, and the cancelation of the rest of the Quidditch Season. I know, personally, how it feels to have a match cancelled -- but this is your first year on the team, and I wanted to make sure you're okay. Amy too, of course.
We were planning to visit yesterday anyway, to try to make up for it, but work has held me up. The occurrence is far more unusual than the Prophet can detail on a single page. Please make sure you're staying away from the area, okay? I mean that, son.
Again, I'm sorry Quidditch was cancelled. That's rough. Hopefully next year will be a better go of it? Keep your skills sharp though. You've got this -- and there's many years ahead of you to win matches. I'm sure I have just the thing to cheer you up over the summer, though. It's a surprise... and worth it, I promise.
But to ensure that happens, you need to do well in your exams and stay out of trouble, okay? Keep your friends close, Toby. We send our love, and look forward to seeing you soon.
Congratulations on becoming a Prospectsy subscriber!
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Prospectsy is an exclusive, ever-growing subscription service that provides highlights and fun facts within certain corners of the Wizarding World. We have a focus on magical advancement, and fantastical inventions or discoveries around the globe.
Your introductory issue is on its way. We look forward to including you as one of our valued Prospectsy adventurers.
A warm smile spread over Charlotte face when she was given some reassurance about not knowing. It gave Charlotte a little more encouraged to at least try and go to one of the matches, especially for her friend, MJ. Maybe next year? If she could slowly get use to the idea, maybe if she went near the pitch every match, maybe by time Ravenclaw played, she would be able to attend fully?
"I did plant a few things last time, but I have neglected to go and see them," Charlotte said a little down at herself. As she was about to speak more about it, the sudden arrival of owls appeared. Several were not happy, one near her ruffled it's feathers when it landed, sending droplets of rain into her face and hair. She shielded herself, but it was pointless.
As a copy of the daily prophet landed by her, she took it up in her hands and read over the main story. What had happened to the pitch was awful and she felt her heart ache for her friend who's games were ruined now. As she read, she was rather surprised that it was something to do with the magic within the school itself and she felt a sudden pull at her chest.
Was the school even safe?
Then, another owl arrived and with it, a letter for her. Taking it, she began to read it and found that it was from Mr. Gilbert. When it called her precious, she felt her cheek burn but her heart pulled. But, why would he call her precious and not her name, Charlotte? She didn't bother with it as she continued to read.
He was happy to hear from her? Her parents hadn't been and she was sure that he wouldn't be either. The interest in her Herbology kit made her smile and she made a mental note to tell him all about her current plants in the greenhouse. His invitation to help in the greenhouse was a welcomed one and she couldn't wait herself. Would her parents allow it? She would just have to ask, like she had done in the past.
Gilbert worried about her? Charlotte didn't think anyone worried about her, her parents hadn't seemed worried about her and he was just part of the staff. He would put in a good work to see if she could help? Maybe that would help her! Yes, she hoped it would.
When he told her about her father coming to get her and put her in bed, she wasn't sure if she felt glad for that or not. If he had come and taken her to bed, why not wake her and take her to the party that she was promised? She was so confused, but it was nice to know that Mr. Gilbert stayed to make sure she was covered and warm enough for the night.
As he closed it, she found herself smiling when he called her little flower and that he enjoyed her letter over some tea. She was going to have to write again, maybe after she went to the greenhouse. She stored it away in her bag and stood up quickly to head to the greenhouse.
"Let's go now, MJ," she said in a happy tone, before she left the Great Hall.
Post by MJ Birdwhistle on Aug 27, 2022 2:45:16 GMT 10
The owls finally arrived, bringing MJ a newspaper. The owl that landed next to her plate looked a bit like a drowned rat.
"Oh you poor thing!" She offered the owl a nice piece of bacon. It seemed pleased with this and took off a moment after gobbling it down.
She smiled as it left, meeting Charlotte's gaze for a second before looking at the paper. Immediately her heart sank. "Quidditch matches are cancelled for the rest of the year."
That was so unfair! Why couldn't they fix the pitch? MJ felt tears forming for a moment. She had only got to play one game! MJ let herself had a moment of self-pity, wiping away her tears.
She knew she was being silly but she was still sad.
MJ took a shaky breath, distracting herself with the other articles in the Daily Prophet. Scanning over the story about the father who tried to save his son.
That didn't help with her sad mood.
Oh great, a dragon was killed in Japan too!? Poor thing! Oh, was there nothing good about today? MJ sniffled and turned to read about the contest.
This seemed like something better to focus on.
She read the details and wondered if she would have time today to take part. It would be fun to interview a teacher... MJ wondered who would be picked, she had a few teacher she wouldn't mind interviewing.
Folding up the paper, she put the paper away into her bag and gave Charlotte a smile, agreeing, "I'm ready to go to the Greenhouse whenever you are."
Picking up her bag, she stood to leave the Great Hall.
[OOC: Exit]
Last Edit: Aug 27, 2022 2:47:27 GMT 10 by MJ Birdwhistle
Post by Oscar Tinkle on Aug 27, 2022 6:19:36 GMT 10
Oscar had managed to stumble into the Great Hall and over to a seat at the Hufflepuff table just in time for the disaster that was the owl post. The whole thing seemed fitting for how his morning had gone so far though, so he was not fazed by the chaos. It just seemed right.
He had spent the morning hunting down various belongings that he had managed to lose in the dorm, since apparently his things had all joined together and decided on that morning to go walkabout.
That included his tie that had somehow curled itself around the top of his bedpost, a shoe jammed behind his headboard, and a charms textbook that was under a bed across the room. The book was recognisably his from the damaged corners and his name scrawled inside the cover.
All of his belongings recovered, Oscar had made his way down to the Great Hall fully expecting to have missed breakfast.
So even though the sky was miserable, the younger student that he had sat next to was complaining about being splashed by their owl, and an older student further down from them was cursing about the owl that bit them, Oscar was just relieved that he could grab a banana to eat.
He quietly munched on said banana as he read the Daily Prophet that had dropped in front of him when he sat. His brow slowly furrowed as he did so. He'd found out that the explosion had been the Quidditch pitch on the walk back to his common room that same night of course, his housemates eager to gossip about it. That did not make it any less concerning though.
The only thought that he found a comfort was that, if it had to explode, at least it had chosen dinner time to do it rather than the next day when it was due to be full. He shuddered just at the thought of that.
Trying to distract himself himself from that horrifying line of thought, Oscar let his eyes drift further down the page and immediately zeroed in on the word 'dragon'.
Straight away he wished it hadn't. He thought that headline was no better than his last focus.
Oscar was about to flip to page eleven to find out more anyway, unwilling to just leave it alone when a creature had been killed, when a familiar owl dropped a package on the paper, did a circle overhead, and then landed on his shoulder.
"Hey Merc," he cooed to the soggy owl, reaching with his other arm to offer up some bacon.
It was his parents owl, a tawny that they called Mercury. He was not that surprised to see the animal, not after the events at Hogwarts and having written home himself the morning after the Big Bang. He thought that of course they would write after all of that, what kind of parents wouldn't? He just wished it had fallen on better weather for the poor owls.
"Why don't you join the owlery, huh?" he said to the owl, running his fingers over the feathers. "It might be better flying weather later. I'll see about visiting you, okay?"
Mercury bobbed his head as he finished his bacon prize and then took off back into the air. Oscar hoped that he was going to lay low for the weather to change.
He opened the package and very nearly jumped for joy at the sight of a neat row of maritozzi. The cream buns and their box had obviously been spelled to survive the journey, since they looked perfect and still smelled fresh. His Mamma was the best, that was his day immediately improved by a hundred percent.
Oscar carefully fished his letter out from where it was stuffed down the side of the box and made quick work of his parents words. Sure, it was his Mamma's handwriting but he could recognise both of them in the letter.
The letter was almost as much comfort as the buns had been, so it was a much happier Oscar that left the hall to head to class.
The mood was going down and down as the conversation progressed. When Toby arrived Xavier could feel the tension. He felt bad for the pancake being murdered by the red-head but he kept his mouth shut. He felt like Toby was a ticking timebomb as this moment, letting him calm down on his own was best. There wasn't much he could really say, he couldn't magically make things better sadly.
Suddenly the Great Hall was a flurry of flapping wings as the owls descended with the mail. Drops of water splashed on him as the poor wet creatures shook their feathers going by. Xavier quickly grabbed one of the daily prophets, tossing the closest owl a piece of cracker who gobbled it down happily.
He quickly skimmed the front page before his stomach dropped. "Cancelled. The entire season?" He knew it would be on hold for awhile, but he thought they would be able to fix the Quidditch pitch. He hadn't expected the whole year to be cancelled. He hadn't even gotten to play his first game yet. Now it looked like he would have to wait until his second year. That felt like forever.
He had been trying to keep the mood up this whole time but now his was turning as gray as the clouds outside. He didn't like feeling like this, he needed to clear his head and focus on something else. Anything else.
"See you at class later," he said with a wave to Saoirse, Alice, and Toby. Hoping they would all be in better spirits by the afternoon. He knew there was more to their conversation but honestly at this point they would just be going around in circles. It was best to just leave it to the adults for now.
Grabbing an umbrella from one of the stands by the door, he headed out on his search for more potion ingredients and hopefully a much needed distraction until flying class.
Sinead arrived in the great hall, still tired from the previous night's events. The brunette yawned as she helped herself to some food, just as the owl post arrived. She had been sent a letter and some of her favourite sweets from her grandmother as well as receiving a daily prophet. Sinead's tired expression brightened and she hastily finished her food.
Sinead fed the owl that had delivered the post, the last bits of her bacon and then stuffed the paper and sweets into her bag. She stood up and then left the hall for the dorms so she could drop off the sweets before class.
Post by Tobias Twiggs on Aug 27, 2022 9:41:26 GMT 10
The telltale screeching of owls announced the arrival of the morning post and Toby looked up from where he was butchering his pancake, when an owl landed in front of him. The bird looked rather disgruntled, completely drenched from the downpour outside and when Toby reached to take the letter it had brought him, it actually screamed at him.
Toby offered the bird a piece of bacon and then reached for his letter, which was relinquished to him without protest from the waterlogged owl. He'd half expected the animal to bite him due to its evident bad mood. At least he wasn't the only one having a bad morning.
His spirits lifted a little when he saw his dads familiar handwriting on the envelope, but then the initial excitement was tarnished with unease. Had his father written to scold him again for something? He wracked his brains trying to remember what he'd done the previous day and if he'd given any of his teachers reason to write home.
He didn't think he'd done anything wrong?
Tearing open the envelope, he was relieved to find that there was not an angry word written within. Instead, his dad was just checking in and making sure that he was coping in the aftermath of the biggest tragedy of his young life. It was disappointing to learn that his parents had planned to visit and had to cancel, but he understood that his dads work was important.
It would soon be summer and then he would be able to see his parents again. Though... Maybe they'd still be mad at him for getting into trouble, he hadn't forgotten his grounding.
Toby wondered how many Quidditch matches had been cancelled during his father's time on his house team, he'd mentioned having personal experience with such tragedy. Maybe he would ask him about his Hogwarts Quidditch days over the summer- if he wasn't working.
Tucking the letter into the pocket of his robes, he had to admit that he felt a little better. Even if his heart sank as he picked up the daily prophet to see a photograph of the smouldering pitch on the first page. Closing his eyes, he turned the paper over on the table so that he wouldn't have to look at it again.
"Excuse me" he muttered to those that still lingered at the table, he had to study or something... His dad had said he needed to get good grades if he wanted to see what surprise he'd mentioned in his letter. Shouldering his backpack, he headed for the nearest exit, trying to remember where he'd put his defence against the dark arts textbook.
Post by Ezra Ashworth on Aug 27, 2022 9:43:20 GMT 10
Ezra had been in too much of a rush that morning to notice that his tie was askew, but at least his rush had worked and he had arrived in time to eat half a bowl of cereal before the owl post arrived.
He even managed to grab some bacon in time to reward the hard working owl that had dropped a newspaper in the remains of his cereal.
Sure, the owl had bad aim, but the poor thing had battled through horrible weather to drop that off! It was just very unfortunate that whatever allowed the paper to survive the rain apparently was not strong enough for the might of his soggy cereal.
He picked the paper up out of the bowl and watched, slightly fascinated, as a single cornflake slowly slipped down the page to plop right back into his bowl.
Deciding that he was still going to try to read the paper, he attempted to flatten it out on the table. He had some success, by that he meant that he only ripped the pages several times but he could at least get the gist of the stories.
His paper kind of read, and since the hall was slowly clearing out, Ezra decided to join the crowd in exiting. He needed to figure out how he was going to spend his morning, since apparently he had the whole thing free.
Post by Jaxen Ashworth on Aug 27, 2022 9:55:34 GMT 10
The screeching of owls alerted Jax to the arrival of the morning post and droplets of water on the back of his neck warned of approaching danger. Snatching his herbology textbook from the table, he was surprised when an unfamiliar owl landed in front of him, where his book had been lying only moments before.
The owl didn't seem particularly angry at having to fly through such awful weather. If anything, it looked bored as if the task of delivering his mail was beneath it. Were owls capable of thinking such complex thoughts? Did this owl think it was better than him?
Taking the letter, he offered the owl a few slices of sausage and was glad when the offering wasn't immediately rejected. With the feathered messenger appeased, Jax turned his attention back to the letter in his hands. Confused when he didn't see familiar handwriting on the envelope. Then his confusion gave way to apprehension, remembering the last time he'd received mail from an unfamiliar sender.
Oh, he hoped this wasn't more concerned fan mail.
Opening the letter, he scowled as he read through it. Back to being confused. Why had his father's transcription transferred to him? And what exactly was Prospectsy?
Rolling his eyes at the idea of receiving issues of a magazine that he never subscribed to, he stuffed the letter into his bag and then tucked his Herbology book in alongside it. Maybe he'd ask Reena what she thought about it, but she'd probably be just as confused as he was- maybe she'd even laugh at the idea of him being bombarded with trashy magazines for the next few years.
Leaving the table, he headed towards the nearest exit. Grabbing an umbrella on his way out of the castle as he headed towards the Greenhouses.
Murmurs about cancelled Quidditch filled the Hall as more students trickled in; the mood slowly shifted, especially as more people noticed the lack of teachers and disrupted class schedule. Orla chewed on a crispy strip of bacon (she found she preferred the American style, but no one would ever know this) and tried to wrangle her sour mood into something more productive.
it was more difficult than expected. Looking up at the enchanted ceiling, Orla knew she would love a rainy walk around the Grounds on a day like this. It rained more often than not at home, and it never really hindered the work or lessons of the day, so Orla wasn't daunted even when thunder rumbled.
However, the lack of sleep and tense atmosphere was affecting her more than she liked to admit. Orla was the youngest by ten whole years in her family, so she was very used to being self-sufficient, even when she could use a helping hand. The day ahead was daunting, especially when there was flying to be done.
Another strip of bacon crunched between her teeth, and the hall began to fill with soaking owls. Orla managed a sympathetic giggle as they straggled by, hooting in annoyance, and snatched up a Daily Prophet.
Ancient magic? Orla scanned the front page, the photo giving her the first proper glimpse of the destruction at the Pitch. Surely the teachers would have it sorted soon, but it was concerning that such old, protective magic barriers had been disturbed.
Orla glanced around, wondering if the castle ghosts knew anything about the Founder's Era magic, and caught MJ's eye as the other girl hurried from the Hall, following a friend. Orla gave a small smile and wiggled her fingers in greeting, figuring she would see MJ soon.
She glanced down at the other headlines, her mood sinking further. Such dark times seemed to be creeping into the world - perhaps that was why people claimed to see Dumbledore around. Her Aunts always spoke about him in hushed tones, with a mix of awe and a particular derision they reserved for most menfolk.
Orla wished she was by the fire now, listening to their busy chatter as they knit and baked and cooked. Involved, included, even in a small way.
With a sniffle, Orla stood slowly, her back still a little sore from sleeping in the chair. She stretched and yawned before slipping the Prophet into a spare robe pocket. She left her plate, which was still full of half-eaten sausages, and left to start her day.
[ooc: exit]
Last Edit: Aug 27, 2022 10:20:45 GMT 10 by Deleted
The Daily Prophet arrived, and with it, a threat to Kassia's flawless hair. She watched as they came in, water streaming off of them like drowned demons who had just crawled back from the abyss. The ones who landed shook themselves, spraying the students near them.
Kassia acted quickly. She reached into her bookbag and took out a small, folded-up umbrella. She opened it with a jerk of her arm, and swept it over herself and Amelia's heads. Bad luck be damned. It was worth it when the water sprayed the umbrella and not them.
One owl hit the table with such force that Kassia thought it might have stunned itself. She held the umbrella sideways when it rose unsteadily and shook itself, avoiding getting sprinkled with filthy feather water. Only when she was sure that the danger was over did she shake off her umbrella and put it away.
Kassia picked up the least damp copy of the Daily Prophet that she could find and read it quietly. No more Quidditch, family tragedy, and Dumbledore spotted in London? Kassia frowned. She hoped this wasn't happening just because Dumbledore was around anymore. What was he doing there, attending Shakespeare plays?
Kassia sighed and stood up, letting the owl finish off the rest of her breakfast. She looked at Amelia. "Shall we walk together, darling? Mind your step." She pointed at the puddles of water on the floor.
Saoirse pushed away her empty plate as Toby sat beside them. She could tell he was upset by what she'd said. But it was the truth, so she thought. She could sense his rising anger, but wasn't about to apologize for her own opinion.
"They'll rebuild the Quidditch pitch. They can't not do that. The pitch can always be rebuilt. People's lives can't."
The owls arrived, and Saoirse saw that they were completely soaked through. The image was quite amusing, especially the owl who screeched at Toby before giving up its letter. Saoirse glanced at the nearest copy of the Daily Prophet. No more Quidditch for the rest of the season. She was pleased, but kept it to herself.
Everyone was starting to head out- mostly to study, she assumed. Saoirse was still set on going to the duelling chamber, even if no one else was. She stood up from the bench and said her goodbyes, disappearing into the crowd of students flowing towards the exit.
Amelia looked up as the owls arrived, the owls soaked as the flapped through the great hall. It was chaos, but the sudden shield of an umbrella came with a welcomed smile.
It was pure chaos from the owls, some which were in very foul moods, indeed. With the events over, she took the nearest, though damp daily prophet, and took a good look.
No more quidditch? She felt her face burn red and she clenched her jaw before she continued to read the rest. Dragon stained... which was sad as dragons were beautiful creatures. Tragedy in a family, though the title made little sense... but she just shook her head.
Wait... Dumbledore? In London? Why? She searched the store for it, but there didn't seem to be much on that.
Kassia finished the prophet herself it seemed and Amelia looked up when she offered to walk together.
"Sounds great, let me grab my stuff," That didn't take long and soon they were headed towards class. Amelia felt a little better, though her body was still in recovery mode.
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