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: Mikey and Z
What: An unexpected meeting
When: Evening, Thursday, January 21
Where: A mostly-forgotten study, various corridors

After speaking with Victoria, Z had grabbed a quick dinner and headed back to her Common Room. She needed to work through the conversation so she rather happily abandoned the Ancient Runes assignments she'd started marking hours ago in favor of other pastimes. Z grabbed her current sewing project (a pretty red dress with a fraying hem and half a dozen missing buttons) and her guitar case and headed towards the medium-sized study on the fourth floor she'd discovered her fourth year. It had several bookcases, a portrait of a misanthropic middle-aged woman, several sheet-covered pieces of furniture and, most importantly, not too much traffic.

Z occasionally liked to do homework at one of the tables in the room but much more frequently, she came to read for fun or work on a sewing project. Slytherin's common room was occasionally too crowded or loud for some of Z's hobbies.

She settled in on a couch and spent an hour or two fixing her dress. The third time her thread broke, Z took it as a message from a higher power that tonight simply was not the night she was supposed to finish this project. She stretched and decided that it was the perfect time to mess around with the songs she was trying to teach herself.

Who: Mikey and Adam
What: Gossip
When: Monday, January 18th, late afternoon (after this)
Where: Staff Room

The teaching part of Monday done and dusted with, Mikey was set on relaxing in the staff room until dinner. If it so happened that there might be other people in there who could fill him in on the latest happenings, then that would merely be icing on the cake. His curiosity was only professional interest, after all. He knew John Nolan from the Ministry and if he really was the latest addition to the staff, as he'd heard, then Mikey ought to swing by and say hi sometime. See if he needed any help with anything and then speak the virtues of supporting Gryffindor at Quidditch matches.

He nudged open the door, smiling at the familiar face inside.

"Adam, hey," he said. Perfect. Just the person he could pump for details. "Word on the grapevine is we have a new teacher."

Who: Mikey & Adam
When: Evening of Tues, Jan 12th?
Where: Adam's Office
What: Checking up on the injured dude

Mikey knocked on the door to Adam's office as carefully as he could, mindful of the two mugs of coffee and the packet of chocolate Hobnobs balanced in his arms. It was a delicate art, carrying and knocking. As was working out what exactly he was going to say if Adam was interested in talking. 'Sorry I didn't tell you I had a boyfriend for a few months, but hey, I guess that's kind of old news now you've been bitten by a werewolf, huh?'

Maybe they could just sit in silence. Or maybe Mikey could leave the coffee outside the door and go back to his own office.

But both of those plans were shitty cowardly ones, and regardless of anything (and everything), he kind of needed to see Adam. The last time he'd lain eyes on him for more than thirty seconds had been when he'd come into the Hospital Wing early in that gritty morning after. Adam had just been lying there, pale and motionless in sleep, and Mikey had felt so abruptly sick that he'd turned and left before he could even sit down.

He stayed where he was and after a moment's deliberation, called out: "Hey, it's me. Mikey."

Who: Victoria and OPEN (Mikey, Audrey)
What: Random interaction!
When: Monday, January 11, after dinner (so anyone can be present)
Where: Staff lounge

Victoria hadn't realised when she'd taken a teaching position exactly how exhausting dealing with large groups of adolescents for most of each day was going to be. Binns' schedule, the one she'd decided to keep to for the rest of this year, was apparently predicated on his lack of any need for sleep. She found herself envying the teachers who had assistants and wishing for one of her own to help her with the student parchments.

She was sitting with rolls of said parchments at her feet, slowly marking off errors in red ink on them, in the staff room. She might have done better at the work if she'd been in the library or in her own office, but if Victoria didn't have some adult conversation soon, she was certain she was going to throw something at someone. At least her colleagues weren't going to prattle about third-year dating drama, or so Victoria hoped.

Who: William, Spencer, Mikey
When: Weds 30th Dec
Where: Somewhere about the castle
What: Hey, aren't you usually a little bigger?

Mikey was done with Wednesday.

Two hours ago he had gotten conscientiously out of bed in perfect time for his 9am lesson, trundled all the way through the corridors, tripped on a doorway, splashed coffee on his notes, then found the classroom empty and the only child nearby insisting it was Sunday.

It had been strange, but not necessarily a problem. And really he'd been quite happy to give one glance to the deserted corridors, take the Ravenclaw at her word, and then go back to bed. Getting days mixed up was something he was totally capable of.

No, the real problem was that he'd woken up an hour or so later to an owl from one of his first years wondering why their lesson had been cancelled with no notice. And now, when he left his room, it seemed to definitely be Wednesday. There were children bustling about the hallways, swinging book bags and chatting loudly, and the clock on the second floor was pointing authoritatively to Mittwoch.

Which meant he'd obviously been the victim of a neatly executed prank and his first years - and possibly others - were holed up in a common room somewhere laughing at him.

He sighed, and turned down a less busy corridor to try and concentrate on a suitable punishment. His fingers dragged against the wall and then suddenly he was blinking into sunlight strangely bright for the time of day and his head felt heavy, like he'd been sleeping for too long.

Who: Gerard and Mikey
Where: Mikey's office
When: Wednesday 23rd, late evening, after lights out/patrol
What: Brotherly chat about goings-on


This whole 'enforcing school rules' thing was not nearly as fun as it was cracked up to be, and it wasn't exactly cracked up to be the most super cool fun job ever. The only good part of being co-head of Gryffindor, from what Gerard could tell, was getting to give points every now and then. Fuck yeah, Gerard was enjoying the hell out of that  -- he'd given 20 retroactive points to Slytherin today to Prim for keeping a cool head under pressure, and she'd actually smiled at him. A facial expression out of Prim! Gerard was the coolest ever. But he also had to take points, and that sort of sucked, especially since he usually had to take them from his own house. Boris MacGregor was such a weenie, and if Gerard ever caught him goading second years to try and 'climb the Whomping Willow, it's a rite of passage in the name of bravery, no really,' Gerard was going to take way more than points, that was for fucking sure.

He sighed and rubbed at his eyes, nodding to the exhausted-looking Ravenclaw prefect that was out on her own patrol, and then continued up the staircase. The kids were all acting weirder than normal these days, or so it seemed. Maybe it was just that he was paying more attention now that his responsibilities had shifted slightly, but still... They were all so twitchy, and hormones were flying left and right and upside down, like drunken hippogryffs in heat. The school was full of teenagers, fine, that wasn't so abnormal, but Gerard didn't remember it being this bad. The Gryffindors were all tied up in knots, and there was way more shouting and deeds of incredibly stupid derring-do than usual going on, in his expert opinion.

He'd seen Mikey's office light glowing in the darkness as he'd flown patrol, and hey, what the hell. If Mikey was up, Gerard was totally going to crash his grading party, or whatever was going on. Co-heads of house meant that Gerard didn't have to dither about this shit on his own, right?

Knocking perfunctorily on the door, he shoved his head in the room. "Hey, Mikey--" He paused, and then grinned gleefully. "Dude, are you a-fucking-sleep?" Hiiilaarious, and also total payback for all the times Mikey had made fun of him for passing out on his comics and getting backwards-inked Batmans all over his face.

Who: All staff and teaching assistants are invited
When: The night of Thursday the 24th, after the great caroling expedition
Where The ballroom
What: Staff Christmas Party

The swimming pool has been frozen for skating and other icy ventures. There is a small ski ramp that the headmaster had installed for the occasion after seeing a Muggle moving photograph depicting the joys of sliding down a mountain on enormous wooden shoes. He's dubious, but the Muggles seemed to be having a good time, and he thought it might lead to further bonding.

There is light, fluffy snow falling over the newly-made ice rink, and over the holiday tree from the Forbidden Forest also enjoying the party in one corner of the room. The decor is red-and-white striped peppermint, with Chilly Icicles and other delicious candy treats scattered throughout the ballroom. Among the refreshments provided are egg nog, hot cocoa, cookies baked with love and inexperience by the younger students, and enthusiastically flaming plum puddings. Beware the fruit cake; the trasgu cooks mixed up a few of the ingredients when collecting the necessary assortment of candied fruits.

There is a green shadow on the ceiling in the far corner that looks suspiciously like mistletoe. Schechter has given up on trying to control the stuff. It's a harmless tradition, after all, and everyone here is an adult.

Stockings are on the wall and the kids are in bed. Have an awesome time.

Who: Frank, Patrick & Mikey
Where: A corridor somewhere
When: Tuesday evening, December 22nd
What: Innocent strolling and mistletoe investigation

Mikey rubbed at a chocolate stain on his wrist and sighed. That was absolutely the last time he was taking part in a cooking lesson. He was pretty sure he still had flour in his hair, there were definitely icing stains on his elbows, and his robe cuffs were singed thanks to one of the makeshift-ovens malfunctioning.

Still, the weird spell on the blackboard hadn't blown up in their faces, which was definitely something to be grateful for. In fact it had been exactly as they'd left it when he checked in on the room after the lesson had ended.

Which was why he was on a quest for Patrick. He needed someone to talk it over with, maybe someone to drag back down with him, even, and he didn't think Patrick would mind him tagging along.

The only problem was, Patrick wasn't in his quarters. But that wasn't too big a deal. Mikey hadn't checked the staff room yet and honestly, anyone with any sense would probably be hiding in there lest Schechter appeared to hand out more 'holiday spirit' tasks.

That being said, the Staff Room was still a little snowy these days and maybe rather an obvious hideout place, all things considered, so that might throw a spanner in things. Nevermind.

[Owl to Professor Way]

Professor Way,

I'm sure you have noticed the current absence of a Head of House for Gryffindor. It is a situation I would like to remedy before the spring term, and as the sole member of the teaching staff originating from that House and most qualified to take on the additional responsibility, I would like to offer you at least an interim position as Gryffindor's Head. You have the skills, discipline and knowledge to be a great asset, both to that House and to the school.

In the interest of full disclosure, I will also be sending a similar query to Auror Way, as he has more time available and is in a strong position of leadership. You do not have to respond immediately, but I would appreciate a decision by the first of January.

Sincerely,
Headmaster Schechter



[Owl to Auror Way]

Auror Way,

I am in the process of selecting a Head of House for Gryffindor. Normally that position would go to a member of the teaching staff, but you are in a unique position of leadership and experience that I feel would benefit the students and set an example for the entire school.

I am also extending an offer to Professor Way, as he has had more experience working one-on-one with the students and is more familiar to them as an authority figure. I believe both of you would make a fine Head of House, and would welcome either of you to the position. Please let me know of your decision by the first of January so that we can make any necessary arrangements before the spring term.

Sincerely,
Headmaster Schechter

Who: Bob and Mikey, way too many littles, and eventually a Gerard
When: Tuesday afternoon, December 22nd
Where: A secondary kitchen in the lower levels
What: Adventures in baking!

Tying one of the musty-smelling aprons he'd found in a drawer around his waist, Bob tried to work out how the hell Brian had talked him into doing this... insane experiment. Activity. Thing. Bob was pretty sure it had involved Brian talking about keeping the holidays fun for the lower years while plying Bob with firewhiskey. Sneaky bastard.

Oh well, at least Brian had been able to discover this room down the hall from the main kitchens. It was, apparently, a holdover from the archaic times yore when all young witches were required to take a home economics course as a part of their education. Neither Bob nor Brian had been aware of that little tidbit of history before, which was probably a good thing. Apparently the course and room had been so forgotten to memory that not even the occupiers had managed to find the dusty little classroom. "Right, you lot. First things first. All of you must know basic cleaning charms, right? Grab an apron from the bottom left drawers in your stations and start cleaning," he told the students who were milling about the room.

A curly-topped third year started to groan loudly, though he quickly ceased when Bob's eyes snapped onto him. "I wouldn't complain if I were you. Either we clean this room and use it, or we use the main castle kitchens and risk angering the trasgus—as well as the rest of the school if any of you happen to do something to endanger the survival of dinner," Bob told him. The kid muttered an apology and quickly pulled on an apron.

Seriously. This was not in Bob's job description.

Who: Anyone and everyone!
When: Sunday morning, December 20th
Where: The staff lounge
What: Weekly staff meeting. Let's get this holiday party started!

"So Professor Saporta will be in charge of decorations," Brian concluded, still without any idea of how that had come about, and hoping it hadn't actually been his decision, as he feared it might have been. "Professor Smith can handle the trees, and that should put us in good stead for the end of the week. Hogwarts has a seasonal decoration charm, which I can put into effect now, that should save us all a great deal of trouble."

He cast the charm, the castle recognizing his authority as headmaster and bending neatly to his will. Garlands sprung up around the sideboard, crystal icicles glistened overhead, and a sprig of holly landed neatly on the tea tray. Excellent. "Professor Urie will be accompanying the carolers to..."

Snow began falling lightly in the staff lounge. One the sideboard, a festive wooden reindeer ornament leapt to the floor, charged beneath the table, and dashed through the door with a squeal, singing "FA LA LA LA LA," in a high-pitched festive wooden reindeer voice. As Brian opened his mouth to speak, a shower of miniature candy canes fell out of the air to rain down on everyone's heads.

"For fuck's sake," Brian said. Overhead, a candy cane wobbled loose from its perch on a twinkling icicle and smacked him on the nose. "Keep going," he ordered, pointing back at his staff, and went off down the hallway in a swirl of headmasterly robes, following the singing reindeer.

[Sent Weds afternoon following this exchange]

Spencer,

Just had a drawn out conversation with Adam through owl. He didn't understand why you were angry at him in the painting or why I had told somebody about what happened the other week. I couldn't not explain it all so I did. He's still pretty pissed, but I think it's mostly at me now; you should be in the clear.

Look, I don't know why you told him whatever you did, but if there was/is a problem, I'd appreciate it if you talked to me about it rather than him.

M.

YOU ARE A TRAITOROUS TRAITOR.

And I hate you.

- A

Who: Mikey, Spencer & William
When: Sunday 22nd Nov
Where: Mikey's Rooms
What: General awkwardness

Mikey sighed and leaned back into his pile of cushions, pushing a stray essay away and smoothing down the covers a little. The bed was comfy and he had Spencer company for the evening and though they were supposedly getting some work done, it was obviously meant to be one of those evenings were they just talked about the possibility of giant invading dungbeetles all night or skipped everything in favour of going straight to bed.

Except they weren't actually doing either. It was just bits of marking punctuated with awkward little stints of conversation. And where ordinarily going over his first years' thoughts on tortoises to teacups wouldn't have been too bad, it was suddenly becoming less and less palatable.

"Hey," he muttered, nudging Spencer's foot with his own. "So apparently someone rigged Schechter's office with fireworks the other week. And then managed to get out with their lives." Or supposedly they had. Either that or the Headmaster had hidden the bodies pretty well.

[Sent late Monday Evening (23rd Nov)]

Gee,

Adam says you owe him some cigarettes and seems strangely agitated about this. According to him it was just teenage hormones and skin problems that had him up in the hospital wing the other week but reading between the lines I'm pretty sure it was actually stress from the outstanding loan issue. I think you should go talk to him and square things up before it gets out of hand. He's prone to wandering off into the Forest late at night on his own when he's upset (he may try and pass these suicidal jaunts off to you as legitimate unicorn searches -- do not believe him).

All the best,

Your favourite brother.

PS. It's probably best if you don't let him know you're coming.
PPS. Cigarettes not actual issue.
PPPS. If you have to pull on his hair again please make sure he knows not to tell me about it afterwards.

Who: Mikey & Adam
Where: Adam's Office
What: (The End of) The Age of Avoidance
When: Monday Evening (Nov 23rd)

Mikey hummed restlessly as he made his way though the corridors to Adam's office. He was relieved to finally be seeing Adam again (no more having to abort the normal quick anecdote owls, no more casual avoidance of the staff room, no more flinching at any and all mentions of Astronomy) but he still didn't know exactly how he was going to look his best friend in the eye after having all but yanked him onto his lap and - well, come worryingly close to fumbling teenage frottage. Especially given the fact that said best friend was happily married and he'd held their baby in his arms.

He, sixteen at the time or not, was a giant dick.

He gripped his wand a little tighter and wondered whether pausing to bang his head against a nearby wall would help at all. In fact he almost turned around and headed to the greenhouses to blurt everything out to Spencer - again - and get some kind of advice. But then he remembered the way it had been the last time they'd talked about it, with the feeling of faint unease just under the surface, and threw that plan out too. No, the only thing to do was go face up to it and deal with the consequences.

Stopping outside Adam's door, he took his hand out of his pocket and knocked reluctantly.

Mikey,

I think it's time we stopped avoiding each other. Come find me after classes today? (Bearing in mind that if you don't, I'm going to find you tomorrow and it won't be pretty because I will definitely do it in front of people.)

I say these things with the utmost of love.

- Adam

Who: Mikey and Spencer
When: Monday morning (the 9th -- backdated)
Where: Mikey's rooms
What: Rude awakenings

The bed was really soft, and really warm. Spencer couldn't remember the last time he'd woken up on something like this, and he wasn't particularly interested in trying. It was a waste of enjoying the soft sheets and blankets pulled up high around him, nothing like the grimy pallet on the greenhouse floor that was his usual place of rest. He wasn't even that interested in working out what had happened. If this was the Death Eaters' idea of torture and imprisonment, he was living out the rest of the war here in style.

Also, someone was pressed up warm and comfortable against his back; comfortable, at least, until they shifted slightly, and Spencer groaned. "Ryan," he mumbled. "Watch the fucking elbows, seriously," and that, rather than a mysterious bed, was the thing that woke him up.

Because Ryan wasn't here, of course, hadn't been here for a very long time and also, despite the many complications Ryan fucking Ross had brought to Spencer's life, naked snuggling had not been one of them. Spencer squawked and shuffled backwards and away from the stranger as quickly as he could, rolling over to try and grasp some small idea of what the hell was going on.

Who: Gerard and Mikey
When: Mid-morning, Monday the 9th
Where: the Batcave (AKA, a secret walk-in closet off the laundry room on the third floor)
What: a very confused reunion

Fuck, Hogwarts was a wreck. There were signs everywhere: reconstructed walls, skittish portraits peering around the edges of scorched picture frames, a subtle hint of Dark magic lingering in some of the hallways. And blood, Gerard could smell blood and decay lingering in the stones beneath strong cleaning charms. Blood always lingered.

But apparently that Lazzara fucker hadn't been lying, whatever his issue had been with Gerard and walls, or whatever. There were students in Hogwarts again, flooding the corridors, chattering about classes and exams. Gerard had the urge to bundle them all up and make sure no one was hurt. Surely there shouldn't be children around when there was still the smell of recent death and Darkness in the castle. But they were there, and worse, some of the students knew him--he'd had a bad moment when one had come up to him while he was hugging a wall and making his way down to the third floor.

"Is everything okay, Auror Way?" she'd asked, and she had her hand on her wand and was scoping out the corridor for signs of trouble. "Is something wrong?"

He'd eyed her warily and tried to edge away, but she'd just followed him, frowning, and then had finally given up, muttering something about what pricks Aurors were when they hadn't met their coffee quota for the morning. Gerard frowned after her, but he didn't have time for mysterious students that appeared to know his mid-morning habits. He was going to meet up with Mikey in their old, time-honored Hogwarts location, and they'd figure things out together. He'd relaxed a lot after hearing Mikey's Patronus, but he'd still feel better when he saw his brother for himself.

Thankfully the third floor laundry room wasn't one of the boarded-off areas, and Gerard was able to slip in undetected by any students or adults. There were piles of laundry, mounds of it, which was... odd. The house elves had never let it get that bad, not when Gerard had been a student. Gerard put that on his mental list of things to investigate, and was about to head towards the back left corner of the room and start humming the Entrance Music, when he caught a whiff of mold and heard a grunting clatter. He spun around, wand raised.

A dark, surly little man glared back at him, arms full of yellow sheets. It had a red, pointed hat and a mean sneer, and was definitely not the laundry room elf Gerard had known since he'd been twelve years old.

"Whatchu lookin' at, scruff?" the little man said, and Gerard narrowed his eyes.

"You," Gerard said through clenched teeth, leveling the wand at the gnome-thing's head. "Are not Portnoy. Explain. Quickly."