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 Grace Babineaux on Nov 2, 2022 2:23:48 GMT 10
Grace nodded, "I slept fine." she said. Nothing notable about the night, which was nice because it meant that she hadn't had any exceptionally scary nightmares, which happened rarely anyways. She was more excited about the end of the year than scared, but not so excited that it was difficult for her to sleep.
Grace was surprised that she got a letter that morning from her parents along with the Daily Prophet. She read the Prophet first, expecting it to be news that didn't really affect her, such as an update to an old Ministry code that prohibited owls from flying between 2:30am and 2:32am. Instead, she was shocked to see the news about people breaking out of Azkaban. Out of Azkaban!
"Oh!" Grace said, assuming that Saoirse and Alice would also be reading the Prophet. "I thought it was impossible for people to break out of Azkaban?" She didn't know much about the wizarding prison. It wasn't like her mum had any reason to bring it up. She tore open the letter from her mum, which was filled with words of comfort.
"I guess we should...go to class." Grace said, standing up and leaving her breakfast unfinished. It wasn't like she could do anything about the breakout, anyways. She was eleven! Maybe it would help Grace to get her mind off of it.
Post by Thorne Perry on Nov 2, 2022 7:03:05 GMT 10
Thorne noticed the instant mood shift before anything else registered. It was kind of tough not to, with the gasps and the sudden pockets of stunned silence. His hand shot out for a paper, fumbling to unfold it.
Paradoxically, his eyes were drawn to the small byline first: magical games and sports delay announcement. There had been no Quidditch lately, were those related?
Slowly though, knowing that was likely not the source of the shock, his gaze to the trailed up the Prophet's front page headline: MASS BREAKOUT.
He didn't know much about Azkaban, just from overheard "grown up " Conversation, but even what little he knew made his stomach feel queasy. Lots of prisoners escaping all at once? That was definitely bad.
He just wasn't sure how bad.
He suddenly had no appetite. He tucked the newspaper away with his other stuff, tidied his plate, and headed for the door.
Post by Arthur Hocking on Nov 2, 2022 8:03:36 GMT 10
It felt like Arthur had hardly sat down before the Daily Prophet arrived, and once it did he could feel the way that others were reacting. He'd been in the wizarding world long enough to have a general idea of what Azkaban was, and the current discussions among his peers made it clear that something like this was unprecedented.
Arthur himself was a little shaken up. From what he knew about wizarding criminals, they tended to be harsh on Muggles, and since all of his family was almost entirely made up of Muggles, well, he was a little worried about them. But nothing was said about Muggles in danger, so he had to hope that everything would be alright.
"This is awful." Arthur said to Oscar as he put the Prophet on the table. "I hope they'll figure it all out. Breaking out of Azkaban!" Arthur shook his head. Still, even with that news, he couldn't miss one of the last classes. He stood up, shook his head again, and headed down to the dungeons.
Post by Elizabeth Doren on Nov 2, 2022 8:30:28 GMT 10
Elizabeth had, as usual, arrived at breakfast without much note and eaten her meal politely, making sure that any crumbs were brushed off of her perfect uniform, if there were any at all. Breakfast was her chance to prepare for the day, and she had a lot to prepare for. Last classes meant exams soon, and although Elizabeth had been studying, she still felt like she could know more about some subjects.
Potions, for one. It was nice that she had a class in the afternoon that she could possibly ask any questions during. The sight of Prefect Duties was also welcome, as she rather enjoyed spending some time doing work that mattered. She wondered if she would be a prefect next year and hoped that she would. It would be nice to have that consistency.
When she read the Daily Prophet, the History of Magic lesson came back to her. An escape, just like the one Professor Archerose had talked about, only this time much more major. Criminals escaping from Azkaban! She doubted that the Ministry would have success in apprehending them. After all, they hadn't caught Demora yet, and that was years ago, apparently. She wondered if the dark wizard was connected to this chaos.
She could feel eyes boring into her as her own wandered down to the bottom. Dorens Deny Involvement. She looked up at William, who seemed to be in a similar situation to her, and then Charlotte, who wasn't. That was good. Charlotte's emotions seemed a little too uncontrolled for Elizabeth's tastes, but Elizabeth had a fine grip on hers.
An owl dropped off a letter. Perhaps it was from her parents, reassuring Elizabeth that they had no involvement and that whatever tabloid journalist had thought it was a good idea to mention them better wish that they had never done so. Instead, she read horrifying words from someone who didn't even identify themselves.
Elizabeth shoved the letter into the bottom of her bag. Perhaps she would talk to Professor Snape about filtering her mail, or she would go all the way to Professor Rickard. Whichever was in charge of making sure such lies didn't make their way to Elizabeth.
She straightened out her already almost perfect uniform, and with perfect posture, walked out of the Great Hall like nobody was talking about her family. Hopefully William and Charlotte had the good sense to do the same.
Orla felt awful, like the pastry she was eating had turned to stone in her stomach. She pushed the Prophet away from her and tore into another sausage roll, eating mechanically because she knew being hungry later would just make the day worse.
Her mind drifted to home, and her memories of crisis in the family. The women of Fallwater Manor would flock home, like bees to a hive, gathering tightly in the kitchen. Orla remembered being lifted into strong arms, no matter her age, so that she could see what was happening.
There was no real head of the house there - the family seemed to know who to turn to, who was best to speak in uncertain times. Whoever that was would ask the family to help, and as though it was in their DNA, the women would get to work to solve the issue at hand.
Orla wondered when she would feel so able to face hard times. Right now, all she wanted was for someone else to take charge; she cast her eyes to the head table, wondering if anyone was going to reassure them.
There was a steady trickle of students leaving the Hall now, heads bowed or huddled close with friends to speak in hushed tones. Orla began chewing her lip, bundling her robe tightly in anxious hands; no reassurance came, so she stood to leave.
She turned in time to see Thorne walk out, and was glad that the next class would have friendly faces in it. With one last glance to the teachers, Orla hurried out of the Hall.
Post by Jaxen Ashworth on Nov 3, 2022 10:22:53 GMT 10
Jaxen had been enjoying a plate of scrambled eggs on toast when the mornings post arrived. He had not been expecting any post but turned his eyes to the sky anyway, uncertain as to whether or not he'd receive a worried letter from home following what had happened between Reena and Amelia. There was a high probability that the school had written to their mother and informed them that her child had been attacked while under their care and supervision, news he feared she would not take well.
As it happened, he did not receive a letter from home (and would be checking to see if Reena had), but he did get a rather mysterious package and attached his first issue of the prospectsy. It was unexpected. With the stress of his OWLs and everything that had happened recently, he had forgotten all about his subscription.
Jax set the article aside for the time being, instead turning his attention to what had gotten the entire hall into a panic. The Daily Prophet. Picking up his copy, he scanned the front page and felt his heart drop into his stomach. The headline was bold and unmistakable bad news. He had so many questions, how had it happened and why? Who had orchestrated a mass breakout of that magnitude? Which inmates had escaped?
He could not help the anxiety that clawed in his belly at the idea of dangerous witches and wizards that had once been behind bars, were now roaming the streets of Great Britain.
Suddenly his breakfast did not seem very appetising. Pushing the plate aside, he took hold of his prospectsy and hoped for lighter news that might help lift his mood. He did not find it. Beneath all of the information of potions and a section about a potioneer named Aris Meek, Jax came across a rather interesting message.
His mouth felt dry after reading of his father's apparent heroics. At least, one person thought him a hero for his actions that day. Actions that had cost his life and tore their family apart. Jax was not expecting to be caught off guard by such a revelation. The incident at the Department of Mysteries that saw Aris Meek resign, that had to be the very incident that had cost his father his life- what had happened that day? He still did not know, but maybe this would prove to be a key piece of the puzzle.
Stuffing everything into his bag, he scrambled to free himself from the bench and set off out of the hall. He needed to get to class and after... He had to find Reena.