From the Ashes

Who: John and Mikey
When: Evening, Monday, January 25th
Where: Outside, the Quidditch Pitch
What: Catching up with an old acquaintance

Mikey slammed the lid shut on the Bludger case and then promptly sat on it. They were not having a repeat of the week before where they'd all been in but he'd hadn't flipped the locks down fast enough. No, this time he was handling it like a pro.

Riding out the bumps, he reached down, shoved the metal clasps to closed and finally relaxed. Gerard was giving the post-practice talk in the changing rooms, so all he had left to do was levitate the last of the kit to the broom-shed and lock up. Then he could go inside, get something warm to eat, and maybe do some nice marking.

Tucking a lurking Quaffle under his arm, he marched over to the waiting sack to put it away.

Who: Staff and TAs
When: Monday morning, January 25
Where: The staff lounge
What: Staff meeting about upcoming bad press

Enough people were present for Brian to start the staff meeting.

“Right, so I know things have been a little hectic-” Brian ignored the snorts and someone’s laughter and continued. “Yes, I know, it’s been fucking insane. You all knew that by the end of your first week and didn’t resign then, so suck it up. Hazards of the job and all.”

He waved his wand and a proof copy of this morning’s Daily Prophet shot out. It zoomed around the room for a few seconds before docilely floating next to Brian. He ignored the paper and its antics.

“I imagine that most of you have been ignoring the letters to the editor and op-ed pieces in recent issues of the Prophet, since no one actually cares about typographical errors and mis-attributed photographs or what barmy wizards think about Ministry polices. Time to start paying attention now.

“Some disgruntled parents and Hogwarts alums have been writing in, mostly to bitch about what we’ve been doing with the school. I’ve got a stack of letters about that on my desk, I’m sure most of you have gotten a few since you started. Someone’s been organizing them in a group, Concerned Wizards of Britain. They’re starting to make more noise and get some attention. They petitioned to meet with me and the Board of Governors this weekend about some of the decisions I’ve made-staff I’ve hired. Obviously, I’m not just going to give in to their whims and Rita Skeeter’s protégé got wind of the story. It’s front page of this morning’s Daily Prophet.”

Brian duplicated his paper and sent the copies whizzing around, one for each person present. One of the headlines screamed

“DO WE TRUST OUR CHILDREN TO FOREIGN WIZARDS?”

Below that, other headlines read:

“Is "Change" a good thing? Does Hogwarts need a new perspective?”

“Must we reinvent our school?”

“Where are all the British professors?”

Brian let everyone take a moment or two to read the headlines and think about them.

“So, the school’s under attack in the paper. Mostly it’s focused around my decision to hire foreign-born staff and keep Professor Saporta as the Head of Slytherin in light of hiring Professor Asher. It’s bullshit, we’re figuring it’ll blow over soon, but I wanted to tell you all before copies start getting distributed in the Great Hall.”

Brian collected his copy of the paper and rearranged his robes slightly. “So, I’ll be in my office dealing with Howlers and letters if anyone needs me. Owl or fire-call me if something comes up you can’t handle.” With that, Brian left the staff lounge.

Who: John & Adam
When: Sunday morning
Where: the Bakery in Hogsmeade

John woke up sweaty, feeling like someone was looming over him, repeatedly casting the Cruciatus curse with wand pointed directly at his forehead.  The next target was his stomach, a gut-wrenching twist of his insides, and then the dry-heaving started.  'Oh, great,' he thought. 'Another hangover.'  Having been unable to secure the hangover potion from Bryar before leaving the castle, he knew he'd have to settle for another of nature's wonder cures...coffee.  He made his way to the bathroom and cleaned up as best he could, but even he could admit he was looking a little rough.  A huge, bear-like stretch later, and he was shrugging his pants back on and putting on a t-shirt, before bundling up under his pea coat and green scarf.

He made his way out of the Three Broomsticks, letting his nose lead the way to the best bakery in all of Hogsmeade.  The smell of pastries made his stomach simultaneously turn and feel incredibly empty, and as he wasn't sure which ending would be reality, he decided not to eat anything when he arrived outside the little shop.  Reaching for the door handle, he was surprised as the door flew open and he was knocked backwards by a tall, solid object, which he recognized seconds later to be the curvy backside of a man who'd been trying to push the door open with full hands.  "Merlin, watch where you're going!" he exclaimed in a huff, after regaining his balance.  His agitation rose as the man turned.

WHO: Adam & John
WHERE: Hogsmeade
WHAT: Celebratus Interruptus
WHEN: Saturday, January 23; Evening


The only real downside to having a teaching position at Hogwarts for Adam was that he was required to be at the school, teaching classes, five days out of the week. It was different from when he worked with the government and could move days around, or take days off whenever he felt like it. He couldn't just have someone stand in for him - he'd found that out the hard way back when his students didn't respect him, much less some substitute. But he was trading his liquid schedule for being in one place, trading being able to do whatever he wanted whenever he wanted for a home and a family.

It just meant shifting things around a little until it worked out. So if they were going to get a babysitter, and he was going to take his wife out for a little birthday celebration, then, well, they'd just have to do it on a weekend when he could get out of the castle, wouldn't they?

That was what led to Saturday night, post dinner, drinking at the Three Broomsticks with a group of friends, squished together in a booth with his arm around her. Early, but kind of perfect.

Who: John and Victoria
When: Friday after classes
Where: Outside of the History of Magic classroom

With the end of his first week as Professor coming to a close, John was practically skipping towards his rooms to gather his things for a weekend trip into Hogsmeade.  His plans were to meet up with his best friend, Jesse Lacey, for some celebration that included gallivanting about and consuming lots of fire whiskey.  It had been a while since he'd been feeling social, so the owl from Jesse alerting him that he was traveling in London was unexpected but much appreciated.

A quick trip into the hospital wing was really his last stop before taking off.  Knowing he had to be back Monday morning for the staff meeting as he'd missed this week's, he wanted to procure an anti-hangover potion.  He made his way down to the first floor and peeked into Bob Bryar's office, hoping he might catch him.  Unfortunately, he wasn't there, so John decided he would just have to limit his alcohol intake on Sunday.  Only slightly discouraged, he made his way back towards the stairs to go up and grab his things.

Merging with a herd of students who were just leaving a classroom, he overheard them talking about Defense Against the Dark Arts and realized that must be Adam's classroom.  He didn't exactly tip-toe past the door, but he didn't want to be noticed, either.  He ducked his head and stuck with the students, nearly running over a brunette who had just come out of the classroom nearest Adam's.

"Excuse me," he said, nodding at her.  He took a moment to give her a once-over and realized there was no way she was a student.  "I'm sorry for our near collision, I wasn't really looking where I was going."  He cast a glance back at Adam's doorway to make sure they didn't have an audience.  "I'm Professor Nolan," he said, smiling at her and extending his hand.

Who: John and Z
Where: Arithmancy Classroom
When: Wednesday, January 20

John, having awoken late and in a rush to prepare for his fifth year Hufflepuffs and Slytherins, had forgotten breakfast.  Teaching over the rumble of his stomach proved to be a difficult task, and he found himself agitated when one of the students asked him a question about something he knew he'd covered at least two times.  As soon as third period ended, he made a mad dash to the Great Hall to nip some food, but didn't stay amongst the students for fear of cursing each and every one of them.

He didn't really feel like hanging out in the staff lounge either, so he headed back to his classroom and sat at the desk, digging into his spaghetti enthusiastically and not even caring that the sauce was dripping into his beard as the slimy noodles smacked his chin.  He had plenty of time to prepare for his NEWT students.  Hearing a shuffle outside the classroom door, he realized he probably should have locked it if he'd wanted any sort of privacy.

Who: John & Adam
When: Thursday, January 21 during lunch
Where: Staff Lounge

The Gryffindor/Ravenclaw pairing of his Thursday mornings was somewhat exhausting, so instead of eating lunch in the Great Hall with the students, he found himself slumped in a chair in the staff lounge, sipping some tea and reading the Daily Prophet.  He was looking forward to the weekend, with plans to go to Hogsmeade and celebrate the end of his first week as Arithmancy Professor, but there was still a whole Friday to get through first.

His class schedule was a little bit random, but he'd found he had plenty of free time for marking the number charts he'd assigned, with time remaining to explore the castle.  He'd eventually found his rooms.  He wondered who might have occupied them before, as they were lushly furnished, but nondescript in the sense that there were no artifacts left by the room's previous occupant. 

They were only two floors away from his classroom, and consisted of four rooms: an office with ample space for all of his charts and posters with a second entrance into the sitting room of his chambers, located discretely in the back; a sitting room, decorated in Victorian-era flat paint with large wall hangings reflecting the Gothic style, with a large oak-framed couch in front of a stone fireplace; an extra-large bedroom with a massive four-poster bed up against the far wall and a lounge chair upholstered in fine Italian silk at its foot; and a private bath, complete with a large old-style tub that looked like it could seat at least three.  He wasn't used to living in such lush conditions, but found the room comforting and had been spending a lot of time in it.

Hoping to make contact with some of the other professors, he'd decided to stay in the staff lounge through lunch and the two periods following it, as he was scheduled free time.  He was just about to pull out some of the homework he'd collected the day before for grading when the door swung open.