From the Ashes

Who: Gryffindor versus Slytherin (as represented herein primarily by Pete and Gabe; weigh in at your own risk *G*)
When: Dinnertime, Saturday (14/11)
Where: Unfortunately, publicly, just outside the Great Hall
What: Dun tole joo - Gryffindor versus Slytherin, round two: fight!

Unfair advantages were beautiful things to have, and this week Gabe had had a couple: 1) he'd started out on the older side of the staff in the first place, and 2) even if he hadn't been actually in the basement at the moment of age-fuckery, he'd still been a fair way away from Schechter's office.

On the other hand, various acquaintances and family members could have told you, if you'd gone to Spain to track them down, that Gabe as a teenager had been an enthusiastic, unfocused, but generally harmless kid. Gabe in his early twenties had been a bitch. (And any student who'd had Potions on Friday would back this one up.)

Case in point: for the past five minutes, following Pete down to dinner, he'd been ragging on Gryffindor's quidditch team, their win, their supporters, their inferiority to Slytherin, their coach, Pete's obvious bias, and the fact of, "I don't know, dude, are you blind or just too short to see your team fucking cheating?"

And yes, Gabe had sought Pete out specifically to do this.

Who: Everyone
When: Saturday night, Hallowe’en
Where: The armoury
What:

To all staff,

After curfew and following the Hallowe’en Feast, you are cordially invited to attend a holiday gathering in the armoury. Costumes are not optional, so if you find yourself somehow accidentally lacking one upon arrival, there will be plenty available you can borrow from the suits of armour, as they will be dressed for the occasion. Drinks, desserts, and every possible permutation of pumpkin dish will be served, and there will be a festive soundtrack of popular dance music from both wizarding and Muggle cultures to enjoy. Masquerade glamours are permitted in the spirit of the holiday, but please try not to unnecessarily alarm your colleagues. Castle ghosts are also invited to attend the festivities.

Sincerely,
Headmaster Schechter

who: Pete, Ryland, & Adam
where: in the shared hallway outside their classrooms
when: Friday, shortly before last period officially lets out
what: zombie hoardes gaggle?

Pete was in the habit of wandering out into the hall with his little group of Seventh Year NEWTS a few minutes before class officially ended; it was a more casual type of conversation, so they could feel free to probe him (metaphorically) for information about his Year As A Muggle. The kinds of questions they couldn't ask in class. How shaggable were muggle girls, for example. Or how did muggles keep from pregnancy and disease? That sort of thing.

Thus, he was in the middle of a somewhat spirited discussion of the American muggle political system when something wandered up to one of his Ravenclaws and bit her on the leg.

"Ow," she said. "What the bloody hell?"

At first, Pete thought it was one of Adam's second years - they'd just started filing out, and you never could tell with second years - but when she jerked and he got a good look, he saw it was...a house elf. A weirdly stumbly, glazed-eyed, ashy looking house elf that was reaching out with its grasping little hands and trying to pull his student's arm down.

That was...weird. "Hey now," he said, frowning, and wrapped his hand around his student's wrist, jerking her firmly away from the house elf and to his other side. The house elf (Pete was pretty sure this one was named Sana) moaned creepily and stumbled towards him.

He stunned it, instinct kicking in, and then winced guiltily. "Shit," he said, taking a hasty step forward. "Shit, sorry."

"Um," one of his other kids said. "Professor Wentz."

Behind Sana there was a small group of house elves, all with the same creepy affectation. Worse, a few of them had blood smeared down their chins, and they were looking...decidedly zombie like. Pete blinked, and said, with as much sincerity as he had ever said anything in his life, "Shit.."

who: pete and ryland
when: saturday afternoon
where: infirmary
what: love potion finally over!

Ryland had been sitting in an uncomfortable, too small chair for what felt like many more hours than it actually had been. His ass was sore and his legs were awkwardly sprawled, but he was dealing. He didn't know what Gabe had done to Pete, exactly, but he knew Pete had been unconscious for hours. Ryland was determined to be there when he woke up.

The nurse hustled by him unexpectedly, startling him out of a rather extensive daydream sequence, and he sat up sharply. "Is he awake?"

At her absent nod, he heaved himself out of his chair and followed her through the curtain that had been drawn around Pete's bed. He was, in fact, awake. Which meant Ryland would only need to yell at Gabe a *little* for all of this.

Of course, what he was really nervous about was what Pete would say when he realized Ryland was there and Gabe was not. Ryland drew the curtain closed behind him and pushed his hands in his pockets, rocking back on his heels anxiously and waiting while the nurse checked Pete over and handed him a potion to swallow.

who: ryland and gabe
when: friday night
where: gabe's classroom
what: second night of trying to fix pete

This was taking far longer than Ryland had anticipated. Their efforts the night before had been fruitless, and so far, current efforts were proving no better. Ryland handed over another ingredient when Gabe requested it...eye of newt, tail of lizard, whatever, and scowled. "Aren't you supposed to be some extremely talented potion's master?"

Because Ryland was not convinced this was the truth. Not when they were on the second fucking night of trying to make Pete normal again.

Who: Pete & Ryland
When: Friday Afternoon
Where: Pete's classroom
What: Postponement

Pete had tried to figure out some way to get his class to help him woo Gabe. Sadly, he'd been lacking in enough imagination to come up with it, and just because he was in love didn't mean he was stupid enough to think getting his class to proofread his very romantic and adoring love poetry was a good idea.

But luckily he had free period, so he had all the time in the world to sit on his desk and turn roses into rose petals. By hand. Hundreds of them.

"Come in," he called absently, carefully plucking the petals off the rose in his hand.

who: ryland and william
when: after dinner
where: william's room
what: :|


Ryland was almost certain that he was not a) crazy or b) cursed. Therefore, he had no explanation for what he had just witnessed at dinner. Namely, Pete spending the whole meal gazing adoringly at Gabe, or talking adoringly at Gabe, or, finally, following Gabe adoringly out of the Great Hall.

Since he was unable to confront either Gabe or Pete about this, as they were far too busy either adoring or being adored, he jumped one more person down on the list and went to find William instead.

Surely if there was anyone else as completely at a loss over this, it had to be William. No matter how cool he and Gabe attempted to play it, Ryland had most certainly seen them making eyes at each other in very much the same way he and Pete did, so.

He marched up to William's door and knocked, sharply.

The mongoose emits a high pitched noise, commonly known as giggling, when it mates. The giggling is also a form of courtship when this animal is choosing a mate.

I love books.

p.

[owl to Ryland]

I would just like you to know that, contrary to William's beliefs, I am absolutely interested in shagging you. Trying to explain romance to Ravenclaws can be so difficult sometimes.

who: pete and ryland
when: lunch
where: by the lake!
what: totally not gay picnic

Ryland thought this was very possibly the most insane day of his life. And it wasn't even lunch yet. A school full of children plus the sudden addition of furry, in the flesh, corporeal Partronii was, to put it mildly, a complete cluster fuck.

All of that added up to Ryland being extremely pleased to receive an owled invitation to lunch from Pete. There were no students at the lake. Only Pete, Ryland, Ryand's greyhound, and Pete's lion, which Ryland was dearly hoping was just as large as the students had described it.

"I believe we're going on a picnic, Reginald," he told his very large, very well groomed Patronus, as he scribbled a reply and tied it to the owl's leg. Reginald blinked from where he was sitting by Ryland's feet and shifted around minutely, offering Ryland his ears to scratch behind. Ryland obliged. "How do you feel about lions?"

Who: Everyone!
Where: The mysteriously-acquired floating pavilion on the lake.
When: Sunday night, 11 PM, after the kiddies are in bed.
What: The 'virus is cured, we have all slept for a full day, and everyone is alive!' party.

You can get to the white pavilion on the lake via magical means, or there are the first-year rowboats tucked up on the bank available for use. It's hard to miss; there are dozens of candles lighting up the night sky, and the pavilion itself is the size of a small house. There are bottles of champagne and trays of hors d'œuvre lining the walls. There are also over-sized cushions everywhere, so if anyone chooses to spend the night under the stars, that's totally an option. It's been a stressful week; the party might go until dawn.

who Mikey, Ryland, & Pete
what totally plot-less hangs!
where Pete's room!
when Wednesday? *hands*

In Mikey's defense, there wasn't a sock on the door, and it's not exactly like he interrupted anything, not really. Anyway, they'd stopped making out a whole minute before Mikey knocked—Pete swore he'd heard the sinister ruffling of owl feathers and the last thing he needed at the moment was to magicless and have pecked-out eyeballs—so it wasn't even like there was heavy breathing.

"Come in," Pete called absently; there was a dark corner over behind his closet door that seemed just shadowy enough to conceal a jealous, confrontational owl. "As long as you're human. And not a student!"

We're jumping the gun a little on this, but we're excited, so there.

WHO: Gabe, Ryland, and their fairy godmother (aka Pete)
WHERE: The hitwizard lock-up in Diagon Alley
WHEN: Sunday morning (after Hogsmeade Saturday)
WHAT: Um. Yes. We can totally explain everything, officer.

Someone was poking Gabe in the ribs. "Salga," he mumbled. "Cinco más minutos." He flailed at the poker, wriggling around to get more under the blanket and burrowing into his pillow. But his pillow turned into a toucan and stuck feathers up his nose, so he pushed it away and clutched onto--

--someone's ankle?

He opened one eye (the other one being squished against some flat surface that was a lot harder than he remembered his bed being) and winced. Madre de dios, it was fucking bright in here. With a whimper, Gabe wedged an elbow under himself and levered himself up on it, which was immediately proven to be a bad idea because his stomach and head spun in different directions, plus something yanked at his neck. Something was fluffy and around his neck and his elbow was on it and it was a shade of red that should definitely be fucking illegal at this hour of the morning and, "What the actual fuck?" Gabe said out loud, small and plaintive. Why was he wearing a feather boa?

Oh... hang on...

He looked up, squinting, and yes, the light was coming in between the, er, well... bars. Of the cell.

"Well," he said. "Fuck." And slumped back down. Ow.

who Pete & Ryland
when Sunday morning, after breakfast sleeping through breakfast
what gift-giving. "gift"! (and possibly making eyes for help moving)
where Ryland's quarters

Look, it took Pete several days to figure out which puff was best suited for Ryland's personality. Sure, he'd just be absentee parenting, but whatever. These things deserved careful consideration.

So it was Sunday that found him making the (now briefer) trek to Ryland's quarters, puff nestled snuggly in his hoodie pocket, and knocking firmly on the door. Well, a British firm. Definitely a step or two above timid.

who: ryland and gabe
where: ryland's classroom
when: free period
what: a rigorous vetting process

Ryland was spending today's free period in a valient, if mostly fruitless, attempt at organizing the bookshelves at the back of his room. He could just do it by magic, but these books were old and unruly, so half of them refused to budge without being physically picked up and rearranged.

"You know," he said, glaring sternly at a particularly stubborn text on 15th Century wizards. "Just because you're two centuries old, it doesn't mean you aren't flammable."

Who: Open To All
Where: The Staff Lounge
When: Tuesday before dinner
What: Chilling out & drinking tea

Someone had used ennui on the Scrabble board. That was a brilliant use of vowels, and provided an excellent opportunity for William to use his q, if that space was still open by the next turn.

"Pete," he said absently, reminded by ennui and turning from the board to find a comfortable chair arm on which to perch. "Have you or your historically-inclined gentleman companion ever heard of a poet named Augustus Bedivere?"

who: pete and ryland
where: pete's rooms
what: ..something.
when: between classes and dinner

Ryland didn't really know what he was *doing* at Pete's door. But he finally had a moment of free time, so it seemed like the place to be. Not that he was going to do a deep examination of *why* it was the first place he chose to go. But anyway. He was there.

He knocked, three raps with his fist against the wood door, and waited. He was nervous. In that stupid flippy stomach way. He hadn't felt like this since he was a third year and had the biggest crush ever on a fifth year Quiddich player.

Not that he had a crush on Pete. An *interest*, certainly. But calling it a crush seemed a bit...childish.


Ryland sighed. Who was he kidding? It was definitely a crush.

Who: Ryland and William
Where: The library
When: Saturday afternoon
What: If you've been following the gossip, you can probably guess

Saturdays, William had found, tended to be lighter on the library foot traffic in comparison to other days. It wasn't a weekday when students had homework and only one free period at a time to study, or Sundays when crunch time finally hit and everyone swarmed in looking for the same five books at the last minute. Saturdays were when everyone flooded outside, this early into September, to enjoy the good weather while it lasted.

The library was built into a corner of the castle, so William could occasionally pause in his reshelving and glance out, through the transparent plates framing the magnificent stained-glass windows, to watch what was happening down on the grounds. The current main attraction was clearly the hordes of children on the Quidditch pitch, swarming on broomsticks after a figure that wasn't any larger but was probably Pete, from the way he was flying. Some of the kids were good, but none of them were that good.

He pulled himself away from the window reluctantly, turning his attention back to shelving, and nearly dropped the small stack of books hovering patiently behind him. They were far enough in the back not to disturb anyone reading at the tables, so William ducked his head in acknowledgment and greeted quietly, "Professor Blackinton."

Ryland had all his shit done and was ready to go a half hour earlier than he actually needed to be. Not that he was nervous or anything, that would be ridiculous. Too ridiculous to entertain, even.

Instead, he ignored the whole Pete presenting at his door thing and went and knocked on Pete's door. He figured that, if nothing else, he could lay around and watch Pete get dressed. Which would not be a bad thing. Especially if it involved a lack of a shirt. Not to objectify or anything, but Pete was hot.

Really hot.

Who Pete and Ryland
Where Ryland's quarters
When Just slightly before uncivilized o'clock in the evening
What Shameless pandering

He and William had finally ironed out all of the rules of their scrabble tournament, managed to copy them down in a legible enough fashion, and post them in the staff lounge. Which meant that Pete made a bee-line to Ryland's quarters and knocked firmly on the door. If he had any chance of winning-hell, if his whole team had any chance of winning, he needed to ensure that they had Ryland on their side.

Who: Peter and Ryland
When: Sunday Evening, After Dinner
Where: Staff Quarters, Gryffindor
What: He has a hankering!

( there's a light on in chicago and I know I should be home )