From the Ashes

Who: Gerard and Spencer
Where: The Forbidden Forest
When: December 20th, early enough to be grumpy.
What: Christmas Tree Hunting.

"No offense," Spencer said, as they trudged along the crisp, snow-covered ground to the first stretch of trees. "It's just that, you know, the Forbidden Forest has a bad rap, don't you think? I haven't seen anything scarier than Jon's Hippogriffs out here, and, I mean. Baby twin Hippogriffs." He gave Gerard a meaningful look, because Spencer was a mature adult, and he'd stopped getting starry eyes over the baby Hippogriffs quite some time ago. Really.

"Anyway," he added, "you've been coming out here with me for months and we haven't seen anything." He scratched his chin. "I'm starting to feel cheated. Maybe we're just not going in far enough or whatever? But basically, I still think this is Schechter punishing me for the whole fireworks thing." He nodded just once, decisively. That had been the original point of an argument that had gone on rather longer than he'd meant it to, and he smiled sheepishly at Gerard.

The first few trees loomed up in front of them, unexpected as the Forbidden Forest always managed to be, and Spencer breathed in. All arguments aside, the forest was always a little frightening. Spencer and Gerard were on a mission, though, to spread holiday cheer. If that meant trying to coax a few particularly grumpy pine trees out of the forest, well. Spencer was a professional.

Who: Greta and Victoria
Where: The front lawn of the castle
When: Afternoon of Saturday, December 19
What: Two new teachers arrive at the school

Victoria had chosen to floo up to Hogsmeade and walk up to the school from the train station, her bag of gear over her shoulder. She'd learnt to travel light in her years working as a cursebreaker; the vagabond lifestyle didn't lend itself to an excess of material possessions, even if she could shrink most of them down and stuff them in an enchanted bag designed to hold them all. Much of what was in the bag now was the books she'd been studying to prepare her lessons for the various classes according to the old Ministy curriculum. Victoria had heard the library was open, but without seeing it herself, she didn't have much confidence in the state of things.

Trudging around the lake, she caught sight of a lone figure on a broom headed towards the front of the castle. Assuming it was another professor coming back from a trip home, she raised her arm and offered a wide wave the way she would have to a Quidditcher on the pitch. The broom rider would certainly arrive before Victoria did. She picked up the pace. It was bloody well cold, even with a warmth-charmed cloak and gloves, and, for all that Victoria might not care to admit it, it would be nice to have company when she went in.