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 Luckett Langford on Nov 30, 2022 10:17:09 GMT 10
Langford stood by the doorway in stark contrast to his normal self; rather than jumping all over his friends with his hair tousled to boyish perfection, he now slumped, as if the weight of the day were pushing down on him, and his hair was disheveled as if he hadn't stopped running his hands through it. His eyes also reflected a depressing hue, mixed with a shade of sad, pale honey.
He winced at the mention of exams as a group of fifth years filtered past him, and as much as he wanted to plug both his ears.. there was no way of escaping it. Exams were the hot topic of the day. Hell, they'd been the hot topic for months. But it wasn't until last week that the Hufflepuff started taking them seriously, really seriously, like broken broomstick mid-match seriously.
'Where the bloody hell are they?' He grumbled, pinching at his temple, trying in vain to ward off the dizzy throbbing in his skull. Every face that passed that wasn't Amelia, Jacob or Sophia's, his eyes narrowed in a mixture of disorientation and disappointment. Had he missed them?
After a spent sigh, he dragged his feet to the Hufflepuff table and landed heavily into a seat near Martha Twiggs. Her face wasn't one of the key few he'd been looking for, but it was friendly and familiar -- and identical to Amelia's no less, which made it easy to shoot her a tired smile.
He sat quietly with his plate of food and goblet of milk, doing his best to stifle his chain of yawns that seemed to play on a forever loop. No matter how much Lucky closed or rubbed at his eyes, each yawn brought more tears to their sleepy corners. The boy was in pretty rough shape, maybe the worst he'd ever been in, having not even noticed Martha taking her leave from their table.
But his expression perked up when he made a grab for the Prophet. Quidditch was the perfect pick-me-up for an exhausted teenage boy like him. There was nothing Langford loved more than the sport; he lived and breathed it. It was the big reason he'd been studying so hard. If playing professionally meant Lucky had to take and pass a million exams, he'd do it. Tired, but happily.
Saoirse was not sleeping, but one could be forgiven for thinking she was doing so. She had found an odd moment of tranquility, lying on the comforting hardwood of the Great Hall table while the soft susurrus of student whispers lulled her into a dreamy state. For a long moment, her stress was forgotten, and she could enjoy the peace.
This ended horrendously once the owls arrived. The first few screeches did not rouse Saoirse, but that certainly changed when an owl landed directly on her back, talons digging into it. She jerked upwards, sending the poor thing flying off the bench and to the floor. Saoirse turned to check if it was alright and promptly received another owl directly to the face.
That one had been the unfortunate victim of a NEWT student who was on the verge of tears from exam stress, and had shoved the owl roughly at Saoirse. Saoirse found herself holding the owl protectively in her lap and glaring at the older girl as she checked on the one that had fallen to the floor. That owl lay in a feathery pile, appearing dazed.
"I'm sorry for that," said Saoirse, "but you should know better than to stick your claws in me. Aren't you supposed to represent wisdom, or something?"
Saoirse picked it up off the floor and lay it on the table, noting the Daily Prophet clutched in its left talon. She started feeding bits of bacon to the owl in her lap, which was feeling particularly bitey after the abuse it had just suffered. She waggled some sausage at the one that had been knocked down, and was relieved when it started to snack carefully.
Only then did Saoirse gently remove the copy of the Daily Prophet from its talons and unfurl it so she could begin reading. In the chaos of the owl attack, she hadn't noticed the excitement in the Hall. But as soon as she read the headline, she paid attention to it. The Quidditch World Cup? Such a massive event had to be very exciting. She wondered if her father would like to go.
Saoirse looked over at Grace, who was sitting next to her. She also hadn't noticed her sitting next to her during the chaos. She waved her copy of the Daily Prophet at the other Gryffindor. Meanwhile, the owl in her lap stood up and painfully dug its talons into her lap, making Saoirse wince. Unfortunately, it seemed happy to remain there.
"Hi, Grace! Are you going to this? Do you know how much tickets usually are?" She doubted her grandparents would approve of such frivolousness.
The owl that had been dazed stood up on the table, ruffled its feathers, and very loudly hacked up a pellet that landed on Saoirse's left foot. She looked at the unfortunate composite of bones and cartilage on her shoe, and then back up at the owl.
"Hoo," it said. "Hoo yourself. Now we're even." Saoirse tossed another bacon bit at it, which it snapped up.
Kassia had not spoken to a soul at breakfast, which was quite unusual for her. A fourth-year Slytherin had opened her mouth to say something with a face that suggested she was going to be either flirtatious or mocking- or both. She quickly closed it when Kassia gave her a withering look. Her rolodex of hate started rolling in her head, and she picked out the girl's earrings.
"What a lovely shade of green those things have turned your ears," she sneered, eyeing the cheap metal. "I admire your ability to go out in public without caring what anyone thinks of you."
The girl made eye contact with a friend and rolled her eyes, but did hide her earrings behind a lock of hair. If her ears were any greener, someone would mistake her for a goblin. Kassia had done her good deed for the day. She chewed her food aggressively.
The owls arrived in a flurry, their numbers higher than usual. Kassia found herself having to idiotically swing back and forth on the bench to avoid being hit in the head by dive-bombing avians. Quite uncommonly, many students seemed more exasperated than excited by their appearance- although that quickly changed when they began reading the Daily Prophet.
Kassia watched a student next to her shout angrily at an owl that had knocked juice onto his textbook, and then brutally shoved it away. The owl righted itself, ruffled its feathers, and promptly began attacking the boy. Kassia watched and enjoyed the boy's wailing as he unsuccessfully tried to fight off the feathered fiend, protecting his eyes from its sharp beak and talons.
As he wouldn't be needing it, Kassia took his copy of the Daily Prophet. As for the boy, maybe the owl would permanently blind or disfigure him? Oh, well. Not her monkeys, not her circus. She read the Daily Prophet in peace, ignoring the chaos around her.
The Quidditch World Cup? Kassia raised her eyebrows and flipped through the pages as the boy next to her began swearing and crying. How very interesting. However, before she could read further, a second owl plopped down onto her copy of the Daily Prophet, a letter in its talon. It promptly urinated on the newspaper and began eating her eggs.
Kassia supposed the owl was simply expressing its distaste for modern journalism. She graciously took the letter, cracked the seal, unfurled it, and began to read. The boy next to her had finally quieted down. Hopefully that owl had silenced him permanently. Kassia didn't care to look over at him to check if he was still alive or not.
It was from Burt, and it included- two Box seats at the World Cup? Kassia's mouth opened, and then she snapped her jaw shut. She had never been to the World Cup, and to have the best seat in the house? She remembered that one of her family members would have to attend.
Well. Aoife her stepsister loved Quidditch, but Kassia was liable to throw her off the stands to her death. And then there was her stepfather Kieran, who would be moaning the entire time about Wales not making the finals. But Papá was a Muggle. And a Scot. He would love the whole affair, and be so excited. Maybe he was the one who would accompany her.
Kassia's reading was interrupted when the first owl who'd been shoved marched over and started wolfing down her eggs as well. Kassia eyed the owl and lifted its wing to check if it had been injured. Not that she cared. It hopped away, and Kassia was satisfied that it was fine.
The boy next to her moaned pathetically. Kassia rolled her eyes. "Why are you alive?"
Post by Jaxen Ashworth on Nov 30, 2022 11:36:18 GMT 10
He had spent almost the entire night tossing and turning, thoughts of ingredients and historical dates swirling around inside his head from a late night of last-minute cramming. Now the day of his OWLs had arrived, and Jaxen could barely stand to face the day.
Jax had awoken after what felt like seconds of respite from his constant stress of impending exams, feeling quite nauseous. His stomach turning over and over as he thought about how his entire future was dependent on how he performed today, and if he failed... Well, then what hope did he have?
He had paid little attention to looking presentable as he'd left his dormitory that morning. He'd almost put his shirt on back to front without realizing and his tie looked like it had been fastened by a toddler who'd been blindfolded. He had not even brushed his teeth that morning, his hair remained unkempt from where he had neglected to brush it.
Jax had never felt so nervous before an exam, like a tight knot had formed in his stomach, every so often squeezing to remind him of its presence. Ducking into the bathroom on his way down to the hall, he'd heaved into the toilet bowl but there had been little in his stomach to bring up.
Now as he made his way into the Great Hall, a thin layer of sweat settled upon his forehead and he clutched a Transfiguration textbook protectively to his chest, as if afraid someone might pry it away from him. He moved as if on autopilot, heading for his usual place at the Ravenclaw table and glaring at a group of rather loud second years.
Opening his textbook to the correct page, the smell of another students scrambled eggs had him retching into his hand.
"Move, now" he pointed at the offending student and gestured aggressively for him to move to the opposite end of the table. Far away from where he was seated. No, he would skip breakfast today. The thought of food was enough to make him consider running for the bathroom again.
Focusing on his Transfiguration textbook, he stared at the words that seemed to swim off the pages, nothing sinking into his stupid empty brain. The screech of owls alerted him to the arrival of the morning post, and he snatched his textbook back up to his chest defensively as the post began to fall from the sky.
Jax immediately ignored the daily prophet, because what news could be important on a day like today. If someone died then he was sure news would spread rather rapidly- maybe if the minister died, they'd cancel exams? That was an awful thing to hope for.
When the familiar small grey owl landed beside him after depositing a letter in front of him, he stared at her, and she stared back. Begrudgingly he picked up a piece of bacon, fighting the urge to gag and offered it to her before reading the letter.
He felt a lump form in his throat as he read the words, the handwriting easily recognizable as his mother's but the words were not hers- it was a nice gesture. Perhaps she had assumed he would not recognize her handwriting, or else was just trying to do something nice for him, by making him feel closer to his dad on a day like today. But Jax could only worry about disappointing his father today, and he could not hope to stomach even a bite of food when his stomach was still churning.
Post by Lindsey Bryce on Nov 30, 2022 13:54:17 GMT 10
Lindsey sat quietly, going over her notes a few more times as she ate her breakfast. It was important to be ready for the exams and to be honest, she felt ready. But, anything could happen, right. She paid little attention to others who sat near her and looked up sharply when she heard the owls arrive. It was not uncommon for her to grab the nearest prophet from where it landed and she took her time reading over it.
"Ciod?!" Lindsey called out loudly as she read over prophet, a smile spreading across her face. "Their flitting on up in the quidditch world!" Lindsey said in a voice full of excitement as she lifted the paper and read over everything. Her mother would likely not be able to take her, but her grandpa loved a good match and he enjoyed the sport as much as she did. The totally excitement caused her to jump when and owl landed before her and held out a letter.
It was her father's writing and she quickly opened it.
Mo Chreach(my darling), Your mother says that today is your exams and we both wanted to wish you good luck. I have no doubt that you will do just fine, since you have always been quite clever. She said you had invited a young friend and we will be glad to welcome her as long as her parents are find with it.
We will see you both very soon, Love, D' athair
She smiled at the letter and tucked it neatly away into her bag before she continued with her studies.
Charlotte jumped a little when the owls arrived, but took a copy of the daily prophet to read. Though it did not particular interest her, she did read about it, taking in the information about the teams and even turning to the page that explained more. MJ cared about it, so Charlotte felt like she needed to care about it. She was going back to read over the other things when she heard her name being called by a familiar voice.
When her sister gave her the instruction, she looked at her with sadness. She had wanted to eat with MJ and the others. She didn't want to eat alone and be alone in her room.
"I want to stay and eat with my friends... I do not like being by myself," she said to Elizabeth as she looked at her. The idea of being alone, in her room, while MJ and the others ate and talked. It didn't sit well with her. She didn't like it at all. It would mean being by herself for a while and what if there was something special with it being after exams?
She had come to enjoy the time with the Ravenclaw table, the chatting with MJ and the others. Sure, sometimes things happened and she didn't like them. But, she was looking forward to dinner tonight, because with exams, no one was very happy this morning. Everyone was tense. When MJ left, she gathered her own things and looked at Elizabeth.
"I will finish my meal and go to my dorm," she said, though she never said if she would finish quickly or go ahead of everyone else. Charlotte honestly didn't want to do that at all.
Post by Reena Ashworth on Nov 30, 2022 15:47:26 GMT 10
Reena told herself over and over again that she was in fact well-prepared. She was still nervous about exams but her repetitive mantra helped keep her anxiety in check. She did not need performance angst today.
She had wisely decided to sit between some third years and second years today, not wanting to go anywhere near the older students and set them off with breathing too loudly or choosing food that was too crunchy.
She had just finished her cereal in yogurt when the little ashen owl dropped off a letter and she read over it briefly before tucking it away and writing a little note herself.
She then pulled out a small to-go-box she had borrowed and cut open an apple, feeling better overall with something to do to keep her distracted. She placed the slices inside before she closed the box, gathered her stuff and made her way over to the Ravenclaw table.
Once she had located her older brother, she approached him carefully, not wanting to startle him.
She wordlessly put the lunchbox next to him and smiled before she turned around to leave again.
The box contained the one sliced up apple and baby carrots, something that was easy on the stomach yet would provide him with some needed energy inbetween exams. On top of it she had placed a small scrap of parchment with a four leaf clover drawn onto it.
Once she was safely out of reach, she decided to head towards her exam area and find someone to speculate about the exams with.
Post by Sophia Rhynhart on Dec 1, 2022 0:00:06 GMT 10
Sophia sleepily dragged herself into the Great Hall while the owls were zooming around. She dodged them purely by instinct as an experienced Chaser used to dodging Bludgers. In her mind, they were the same thing today.
Yawning widely, she dropped into the seat beside Lucky and immediately used his shoulder as a makeshift pillow. It wasn't your typical tiredness, it was more mental -- never had she studied so much in her life the past few weeks.
She just stared at breakfast, as if trying to work out what food even was anymore. Her hair was, as so rarely seen even by her close friends, it's natural shade of brown. It was quite a lovely colour, and it was a wonder she always changed it with her ability. Sophia wasn't even aware of it. The most grooming she'd done today was brushing her teeth (forgetting the toothpaste), and running her fingers through her hair so it didn't resemble a bird's nest.
She'd forgotten her tie, and there was a 50 / 50 chance her shirt was inside-out.
'Picnic in the Savannah, if we survive this torture?' Sophia asked Lucky, frowning as she searched for their other friends. 'Martha too, wherever she went. I'll find her.'
Bored, she picked up the Daily Prophet and if ever there was something to refill her energy it was Quidditch. The sounds she made were barely even human, too excited to form proper words. Babbling something to Lucky, she wished him luck on his exams and ran out of the hall with his newspaper. She needed to write home!
Post by Luckett Langford on Dec 1, 2022 1:26:22 GMT 10
Luckett was back to hanging his head over his full plate, his eyes beginning to drift. His face softened, a ghost of a smile hanging on the corner of his lips as his mind ran with thoughts of the Quidditch World Cup. He didn't know when he fell asleep and when he began to dream; it was so real that he did not feel as if he were dreaming -- and the chatter in the hall played a part.
He was hovering above a bottomless pitch, the roar of a crowd at every side of him like the best white noise in the world. His cheeks were rosy, his fist pumping. He was celebrating. Was he a player for the Ballycastle Bats.. or another team altogether? Had they won their final game? It all felt so vidid, so real, as if it were a treasured memory of his playing back instead of dream.
But then, his eyes shot to an open, jarring him out of sleep. His startle was muffled, his balances disturbed, but he steadied himself before he face-planted into his portion of cheesy eggs.
It was only his best friend Sophia, her naturally brown hair bringing him fully back into the present and clearing his mind from the distraction of his dream. He'd forgotten how good it felt to be so close to her, how comforting it felt to have her head on his shoulder, the scent of her hair bringing him a sense of calm. What was it about her that always made him feel safe, relaxed?
'Right, yeah. Lets do that.' He nodded, trying to shake the fog from his brain, and suddenly found himself fighting another yawn. 'I'll meet you both there when I finish. If I ever do.'
Langford smiled at her wishes of luck, and soon, began to head out for some more last minute studying -- but likely to turn into some last minute napping. He just wanted to get his exams over with. There was no more time for dilly dallying. His tests wouldn't take themselves, as much as he wished for a magic like that, and the sooner they were done and behind him, the better.
Last Edit: Dec 1, 2022 1:36:30 GMT 10 by Luckett Langford: Lucky is outtie!
Post by Ezra Ashworth on Dec 1, 2022 1:46:37 GMT 10
Even though Ezra was still curious to find out what exams were actually like, nerves had started to creep in from the panicked air that most of the school was giving off.
The older years had all taken exams before, so did their panic mean that exams were actually big scary things? Scary things with lots of teeth just waiting to chew up and spit out unsuspecting students?
Ezra wished that he had thought to ask his siblings about what to expect. Why had he not done that again? Oh right, because his go to for questions like that had his OWLs and he was worried about distracting him. How sad.
His wonderings about exams was paused by the arrival of the mail and the fluffy owl that was gone as soon as she had dropped his letter.
Ezra reached for the letter with a jam-sticky hand, curious over what it was.
He grinned when he saw it was a reassurance from his Auntie Mum, having not expected one. He folded the letter back up and tucked it away in his shirt pocket. It would be allowed to stay there through the exams, right? He hoped so. It was nice having a little wish of luck for them.
Seeing that people were leaving, Ezra took that as his cue to go and find where his exams would be held. He just had one other thing to do first.
He wandered along the length of the Ravenclaw table in search, his usual excited bounce left behind for once. That was probably a good thing though, the upper years were not likely to approve of such things that morning.
Finally he spotted Jaxen and, ignoring the urge to tackle him in a hug, flashed him a double thumbs up and a smile.
"Good luck! You're gonna do great," he whispered and then he was out of there before a sixth year that was glaring at him could throw their book at him.
Post by Arthur Hocking on Dec 2, 2022 1:46:01 GMT 10
Arthur was completely frazzled and definitely didn't feel ready for his exams. It was a relief that he wasn't taking his OWLs, but it wasn't really a strong feeling of relief. More like just slightly less dread. He had a bunch of textbooks surrounding him, and was looking between Charms and Transfiguration trying to make sure he remembered the proper wand movements.
Then he opened his Potions textbook and tried to remember all of that. Everything seemed to come down to this. He wished there was more relaxed moments during the year to do stuff like this. Every exam at once just made him feel a little queasy.
He picked at the sleeve of his very wrinkled robe as he turned to look at his Defense Against the Dark Arts textbook. Oh boy, this one was definitely going to be tough if it was practical, and with Professor Hathmore making the exam he was certain there was going to be something practical about it.
The arrival of the owls was startling, and for more people than just Arthur. He covered his textbooks as mayhem occurred all around him, hoping to save them from disaster. Then, he tried to study. It wasn't looking like he would do well, but maybe with a bit of luck...
Arthur packed up his textbooks. Now or never. He gulped. Being late to an exam would be dreadful, and he definitely didn't want to deal with the fallout of that.
Post by Tobias Twiggs on Dec 2, 2022 9:59:55 GMT 10
The Owls were already on the way out of the hall by the time Toby decided to wander down. Unfortunately, this also meant that breakfast was over, and the food had already disappeared from the tables. This was probably a good thing; he didn't want to risk something unsettling his tummy before his exams.
Overall, he was feeling rather good about the day. A little nervous but looking at the state of some of the older students, he didn't feel too bad about it.
Toby made his way towards the Ravenclaw table and immediately noted Joe looking quite worried and sitting by himself. He slumped down beside him on the bench and picked up the nearest copy of the Daily Prophet.
The next moment he let out a loud sound that sounded like a yell had got caught in his throat and as a result, made him sound like he was the victim of a rather violent strangulation. It caused several older students to glare in his direction, but Tobias didn't even notice.
"Joe! Look at this! The World Cup! Merlin's Beard!" he thrust the paper under Joe's nose, not much caring for last minute exam preparations now.
Exams had arrived and Orla was woefully unprepared.
She knew this with almost complete certainty. Normal students sat at breakfast with the look of the haunted or messy hair of a restless night; Orla had slept like a log, waking with the morning light feeling refreshed and bright-eyed, notes untouched since she'd written them down in class.
She'd even written a letter home and sent the owl off before heading to the Great Hall. This sudden communication was a certain sign of doom.
Despite this, Orla felt strangely peppy. She snatched a tall, crumbly scone from the Slytherin table and sat perched with restless, swinging legs.
The morning felt surreal, but she wasn't about to unwravel that feeling - best to be in denial. Best to let the static in her brain take over.
The scone was slathered in butter and sticky seedless raspberry jam, her favourite summer treat (apart from ice lollies and cheesecake and icecream and lots of other things).
She tried to look around and see if she could spot familiar faces, but one dagger-glance from Kassia almost made her choke on the airy scone crumbs that seemed to orbit her face.
Orla spluttered and swiftly stood up, her gaze settling on a tense-looking Thorne sitting at his house table. With a mumble of apologies as she bumped into grumpy tablemates, Orla slunk behind Thorne and leaned over his shoulder, swallowing the last of her incredible breakfast scone.
"Mornin'. Good luck today, I'm sure you'll do great!"
Orla smiled stickily, giving Thorne an awkward pat on the back before she headed towards the doors. She should probably at least glance at her class notes before the test, but the very thought of it made her head spin dangerously.
Post by Grace Babineaux on Dec 2, 2022 14:20:02 GMT 10
Grace watched with some amusement as Saoirse had some trouble with owls. She was lucky enough to dodge the most of it, though it wasn't easy, and she ended up with some sort of spill on the edge of her sleeve. Now she would match all the rest of the students who were worried about their exams. Nice! Well, not nice. She didn't think she would have time to clean it. She rolled up the sleeve and tried not to think about it.
"I hope so! But I'll probably have to ask my parents. I don't know if they'll let me." Grace wasn't sure. Her brother definitely wouldn't want to go, so that was already a negative in the 'parents make decisions' book. "I think the tickets are kinda expensive anyways? Or maybe it's expensive for good ones."
She didn't know, since she didn't regularly buy things. She wondered how many chores it would take to save up enough Galleons to go out and buy Quidditch World Cup tickets for her and all of her friends. Maybe if she offered to help her mum with the Muggle-plants garden she would be able to buy one. They couldn't be that bad...could they?
Saoirse scratched the owl's head as she listened to Grace. Right, money. She supposed she was lucky. She and her father had always just... gone places. There was always petrol in the engine and in the jerry cans, and if there wasn't, they simply waited until there was. Now, to participate in these events, she always somehow needed money. Saoirse frowned and tucked away her newspaper copy.
"I don't care about good seats, but you're right. Maybe I should get a job." Who would hire an eleven-year-old, though? Saoirse supposed it was a later problem.
The owl in her lap fluttered away, leaving Saoirse free to stand up. She looked over at Grace. "I'm going to find the exam room. I don't want the moving staircases to make me late. You can come, if you want!" She rose from the table and exited swiftly, avoiding the angrier students.
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