From the Ashes

Who: Mikey and Pete
When: Saturday Morning
Where: Pete's Office/The Grounds
What: Tackling the Broomsheds


Mikey knocked on Pete's partially ajar door and then nudged it open a second later. He really didn't care if Pete didn't want him to enter. He also didn't care if Pete was in the middle of performing the can-can on his desk naked. He even didn't care if Pete was busy reading outloud some filthy sonnet he was writing for Beckett.

If Pete had got him hooked up with teaching a bunch of hyperactive eleven year olds the ins and outs of their reproduction systems, Mikey was going to do more than just walk into his office uninvited. Mikey was going to -

"Pete," he said catching sight of his colleague. "I'm going to hang you from the Astronomy Tower with your own house scarf. Please tell me you didn't actually send an owl to Schechter."

To All:

While I am eternally happy for my colleagues who have found love (and, if my third years are to be believed - you've also procreated, nevermind that we're ignoring all physical improbability here), I had a small group of fifth year Ravenclaws ask me if I knew of any Entrancing Enchantments that worked between two people, rather than the target and the caster.

Be on your guard, those are the ones that read the books.

- A.L.

Who: Gabe and William
When: Friday night, circa half-past nine
Where: Library
What: Gabe needs - needs, this is a physical requirement, you understand - to make fun of William over this shit.

Pete owed William some money, because Gabe's sixth-period sixth-year class? Had barely been able to get to the third stage of their Salamander Draught for discussing the "hot professorial hook-up", as one brazen Hufflepuff referred to it. Gabe? Gabe was flexible - they switched to Amortentia and didn't get much more done practically, but he still thought the kids actually learned some theory.

Anyway, by the time Gabe had had dinner, cleared up the classroom, entertained a couple of kids with burning questions (including one fifth-year Slytherin possibly in the midst of a burgeoning sexuality crisis, but he'd never actually got around to admitting he had a crush on the librarian so that Gabe could assure him that was just a sign of excellent taste) there was absolutely time to drop past the library before it was time to terrorise his snakely charges into being in bed not more than half an hour after curfew.

"Bill. Baby. Mi amor." Gabe came striding into library, dodged a pair of third-years, and draped himself melodramatically across William's counter. "Pete? Really? You're breaking my heart, here."

That might have been more believable if a) he wasn't grinning like a loon, and b) he hadn't passed Wentz in the corridor on the way here and given him a congratulatory high-five and arse-slap.

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."