From the Ashes

Hey Jon,

I haven't spoken to you in a while, heard some weird stuff from some of my students -- is everything alright? Maybe we could meet up sometime, go get a drink. I'm here if you need.

-- S.S.

Who: Mikey and Spencer
Where: Greenhouse 3
When: Wednesday night
What: "Disregard the wording."

Spencer's favourite thing about the greenhouses was that they were never really dark. Even when night fell, there were some plants who needed light all around the clock: strange, exotic breeds that naturally grew next to magical crystal formations that glowed, or seedlings rescued from the inside of volcanoes, who were used to glowing embers. At night, the greenhouse was lit up by any number of fake suns, and Spencer could wander through it and pick the time of day as he liked.

It was overgrown at the moment in Greenhouse 3, but the only students who got to come in here were his NEWT kids, and they seemed to find an overgrown environment more authentic, rather than a marker of Spencer's laziness and general indulgence when it came to the plants spreading out. He was pretty good at not tripping over roots, now, despite the predilection certain varieties had of reaching out and grabbing at him.

On this particular night, he was sitting at his desk with a pile of marking. It didn't need to be done for another week, really, but it was as good a way as any to keep himself occupied, and he'd mixed some Pepper-Up Potion into his coffee, enough to keep him from the overpowering need to lie down, even if he couldn't sleep, for a couple of hours. It kept him from drowsing off on a pile of parchments, anyway, which was becoming a steadily more frequent occurrence. Spencer was almost glad, actually -- it gave him a handful of minutes of sleep, but was uncomfortable enough to wake him up before the nightmares hit.

Now, he raised his eyebrows at Delilah Gwynth's explanation that some plants are more dangerous than other plants like the devil's snare which is because it wants to be left alone. Spencer circled the lack of capitals with red ink and scrawled Carnivorous?? next to the line, readying himself to face yet another small tantrum in the next class. Whenever that next class would be, and he stilled, taking an uneasy glance through the glass up at the castle.

Said glance, besides giving the strangely ominous sight of the castle up against the night sky, revealed a figure coming steadily towards the greenhouse, and Spencer stood up, blinking, wondering who was on their way down this late.

(sent Tuesday evening)

Spencer,

I used to use this to keep me from drifting off when I was waiting up for someone during the war. It kept my mind off where they were and what might be happening. It's stupid, but it always seemed to make the time pass quicker when I didn't want to lie in bed alone. Maybe it could help you a little until we manage to work out what's going on with your dreams.

It was a gift from my parents, so I might have to ask for it back at some point, but until then it's yours.

Mikey

In a pouch with the note is a polished wood Rubik's Cube. Rather than being coloured differently, the squares are made from different types of trees. As it is a magical toy, it reshuffles itself at random and doesn't always respond to touch the way it should. Mikey swears that on the lonelier nights it used to glow at him.

Who: Everyone
Where: The Staff Lounge
When: Tuesday morning
What: Emergency staff meeting

William came straight from London to the staff meeting, arriving just as the clock was ticking over to 8 AM. The amount of information collected in the archive was vast, and he'd worked through two nights to look at as much of it as possible, not wanting to waste any time. Whatever the students had was getting worse, and still spreading. Over the week and a half since they'd first noticed it, at least four dozen students had developed magic fatigue and an increased inability to perform spells. The affected first- and second-years were all but Muggles. He didn't even know that a quarantine would help them at this point, but that was undoubtedly one of the things they were here to discuss.

Most of the seats were taken when he arrived, and the number of people in the room meant that the way to the sideboard was blocked. He cast a pleading look at Pete for a cup of tea, settling in the corner and shuffling his notes out of the way so he could draw a small vial out of the pocket of his robe; one which Gabe probably shouldn't see. If he was going to get through the day, though, he needed something slightly stronger than caffeine.

"How are the students?" he asked, glancing around the room and blinking back the threatening exhaustion. "Any change?"

Who: Spencer & anyone
Where: Staff lounge
When: Monday afternoon
What: Free day, free day.

The key to not sleeping, Spencer had discovered, was to stay in motion as much as possible. This was a little difficult when you were so tired you couldn't move very well without tripping over things, so Spencer had developed a foolproof method of moving from place to place, and then lying somewhere quiet for a while, until sleep threatened again and he had to get up and move around once more.

The cancellation of classes on Monday came as a gift, as Spencer was getting a little desperate when it got to classes. He felt especially guilty with the NEWT students -- they had their final exams coming up this year, they needed him to be able to teach them, but he was having trouble linking things together in his head, let alone out loud. Questions were too often met with tired stares, and he was using a couple of battered textbooks William had unearthed for him at the beginning of the year shared between the students as a means of teaching. They were hopelessly outdated, but they were still better than incoherent mumbling, which Spencer had an awful feeling was the best he could manage these days.

A couple of hours after lunch, Spencer almost nodded off sprawled under a tree by the lake, even with roots digging into his back, so he picked himself up off the ground, brushed off excess grass, and headed for the castle. The corridors were mostly empty, which was a little frightening. Study day or not, Spencer would have expected kids to be racing around and making the most of a day without classes. Instead, the castle felt too silent. Most of the paintings acted as though it was the middle of the night, drowsing contentedly in their frames. Spencer tried not to hate them.

The staffroom was empty when he got there, and he made a beeline for the couch, sprawling out on it. It was just a little too small to fit his legs, which was good, and he propped his neck up in a way sure to give himself a crick. Then he closed his eyes, and started reciting Latin names for plants in his head. No sleep, he thought, firmly, and then, small even in his own mind, I wish my mum was here.

Who: Joe and anyone who wants to play.
What: Morning of first day jitters.
Where: The staff room.
When: Monday morning before classes.

Joe gets lost no less than four times between his rooms and the staff room, leaving him thankful that he accidentally woke up a full hour before he had to and couldn't get back to sleep. After twenty minutes wandering in a hall composed of doors that lead to no less than a dozen different bathrooms, from a stone hole in the floor to a luxurious suite decked in gold, he manages to stumble into the cozy room Patrick pointed out on their quick march through the castle.

Woofing out a relieved sigh, Joe flops down in one of the deep armchairs. The thought of having to leave the room and find his classroom is too much, so he settles for rifling through the pile of papers sent (rosters of students, maps, curriculum of professors past) and wondering what on earth he's going to teach the kids when they show up.

Who: Mikey and Spencer
Where: Second floor somewhere
When: Thursday, mid-evening
What: A chance meeting

Mikey strolled round the corner of the second floor corridor lost inside his own head. He was hoping to make it downstairs in time to catch the tail end of supper, but after going all the way down to Jon's hut and then popping into his own office on the way back, it was going to be close. He knew the house elves would happily bring him food in his quarters if he was too late, but missing supper might also mean missing out on an engagement ring delivered by a flock of flamingoes or another impromptu food fight between Hufflepuff and Slytherin. Plus it was almost Friday and that fact alone deserved celebration with his no doubt equally-relieved colleagues.

The corridor was still and blessedly quiet as he went down it, free of the normal post-dinner swarms pushing and shoving their way along. He suspected, given the time, that all the children had already finished eating and were back in their dorms for the night. It was a bit of a surprise therefore to pass the battered statue by the stairway and see Professor Smith sitting on the window ledge opposite, staring out through the glass.

It was the ledge that had been reserved for sixth years to sit at loftily when he was at school, but as far as he remembered it also offered a nice view of the lake and surrounding grounds. It was a pleasant enough place to sit, but when they had a fully-fledged staffroom with large comfy armchairs and a year's supply of coffee available to them, it seemed odd to pick an uncomfy wooden sill instead.

He started to smile and was about to launch into a question along those exact lines, but then he realised he hadn't even been noticed.

"Spencer?" he said quietly.

There was a part of him that felt bad about interrupting the professor when he was so obviously caught in some kind of reverie, but they had never created their chance to talk after the pool party and he had been looking forward to having the opportunity.

Who: Gabe and Spencer
Where: Gabe's mad scientific lab. Or, uh, the dungeons.
When: Friday afternoon, after 7th period.
What: Help.

The sugar rush of last night's midnight snack now most decidedly worn off, Spencer almost tripped down the stairs on his way down to the dungeons, stumbling heavily over the stone. One day soon, he thought grimly, he was going to be able to -- to function again, properly, or something. He'd sat in class today with instructions written up on the board and slumped in his chair for as much time as possible, and most of his students had, unbelievably, picked up on the need to be quiet and not disturbed him. Still, it had been a pretty shocking day.

The dungeons were darker and cooler than the rest of the castle, though, which Spencer's aching head was decidedly grateful for. He slipped down the long passageway to Gabe's classrooms and office, passing a few third year Gryffindors coming up and debating loudly about something or other that Spencer couldn't really pay attention to, until he was standing in the doorway of the potions classroom, looking about hopefully.

"Hello?" he called. "Are you here, Gabe?"

Who: Brendon and Spencer
Where: The Kitchens
When: Midnight, Thursday night/Friday morning
What: Manly moping

If Spencer was doomed to go through the night without any sleep whatsoever, he decided, he was going to do it with style. Which translated as skulking through the sleeping castle, waving briefly at the shadowy figure of an auror on patrol down the hall -- he hadn't been able to tell whether it was Patrick or Gerard, from the distance -- and heading down to the kitchens to try and convince the few house elves left since the war to make him a midnight feast.

Spencer had never been so good at that. Mostly, when he'd been at school, the role had fallen to Ryan, who was infinitely more persuasive when he wanted to be. Spencer relied mostly on widening his eyes as much as possible and playing off the fact that he looked like shit, face ashen and eyes red-rimmed. Tomorrow, he resolved, he would go and see Gabe, for sure, for sure. He'd meant to today, only time either moved at a slow, dragging pace or impossibly fast, and today had most definitely been the latter.

Eventually, begrudgingly, Silla produced a large jug of hot chocolate, raisin toast with butter melting just nicely on it, and a bowl of vanilla ice cream. Spencer grinned tiredly at her, and said, "Thanks a bunch," and her beady expression softened a little, as she patted him on the head before she scurried off to get back to work with the other elves. Spencer started to pour himself a mug of hot chocolate, only to be interrupted by someone appearing suddenly in the doorway.

"Hey," he said, startled. "What are you doing here?"

Who: William and Spencer
Where: The Library
When: Wednesday afternoon.
What: Bad moon rising

Spencer had barely dismissed the Slytherin and Ravenclaw fifth years before he was stumbling out of the greenhouses himself. He'd tried out a charm at lunchtime to make his head ache a little less, keep him a little more awake, but the effects had faded quickly in the first five minutes of the first lesson after lunch, and he had never been more grateful in his life for the free periods he had on Wednesday afternoons.

He couldn't stay in the greenhouses, though. The thick, humid air made him feel worse, and he needed somewhere cool and quiet, somewhere he could sit and be still and not hurt his head. He couldn't remember the last time he'd slept properly, and last night the hour he'd managed to catch had been full of Hogwarts burning, and the sudden, sickening realisation that there were a group of third years trapped in a classroom. He'd woken just as Gabe emerged out from the wreckage, all of them starting forward at the realisation that Pete wasn't beside him anymore. He hadn't been able to get the faint taste of bile from his mouth all day.

Inside the castle wasn't much better than the grounds; in fact, there was a crowd of students, laughing and shouting across the halls as they headed off to their next classes, and Spencer swallowed and kept his head down, headed up to the library. William was militant enough that Spencer had no doubt it would be quiet enough, and the air in there was cool, the musty smell of books familiar and comforting. He slipped in the door quietly, nodding at some of his first year students waving at him from a table, and found himself a dark corner. For a moment, he just leaned against the wall, and then he slid slowly to the floor, drawing up his knees and pressing his forehead against his knees. He was so goddamn tired. He wasn't going to risk sleeping.

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: Jon and Spencer
When: Saturday afternoon
Where: Jon's hut/pseudo-classroom
What: Fresh air! With no gossiping whatsoever. Nuh-uh.

Spencer was in a bad mood all morning. It had been his first day with the chance to sleep in properly, no classes to prepare or get up early for, and he'd ended up waking before the sun rose, a sense of danger and fear leaving his skin clammy, breathing ragged. It was the fifth nightmare in a week, and Spencer had never been one to suffer from bad dreams before. Now, he was lucky to go a night without one, and he had started having trouble falling asleep in the first place, too cautious of what might come. The urge to quote Macbeth, he thought gloomily, was probably a sure sign of madness.

That morning, though, he chewed idly on dittany leaves to clear away some of his exhaustion while he was marking the Seventh Years' homework, and then the afternoon rolled around and the clouds cleared and it was suddenly, unexpectedly, a beautiful day. Spencer felt his grumpiness dissipate easily, and before he even had a real destination in mind, he was walking out across the grounds, hands in his pockets, face tilted up to the sun.

He set off for Jon's hut, deciding to ask him how the first week of classes had been. He'd seen Jon very briefly on Wednesday night at dinner, but mostly he'd been avoiding the inside of the castle as per usual, and it would be cool to catch up with Jon again, at least find out how the baby hippogriffs were going. Spencer felt kind of attached to the idea of them.

"Hello?" he called, when he could see Jon's hut, close now. "Anyone home?"

Who Anyone and everyone
What Staff party
When Eleven and any time after on Friday
Where Pete and Brendon's Magical Muggle Pool Ballroom

For the evening, they've given up on the dream of muggle accuracy and the whole thing is decked out magically; the pool is full, but the water glows for no apparent reason. Brendon has decked shit out with trees, there are portraits of jungle animals hung on the walls in various parts of the ~forest that make their applicable noises, and there's even a "beach" of pure white sand. The ceiling is charmed to look like the night sky, complete with a moon about half-full (just in case there are any werewolves in attendance whose biology might get confused), and there is a "cabana" of sorts with food and more alcohol than you can shake a stick at.

It's a casual affair and, despite Pete's careful wording on the invitation, the point, plain and simple, is to get wasted.

[OOC: basically a free for all where time is fluid and threads can be started all willy nilly!]

Who: Spencer, William & anybody else who wants to join
When: Monday night
Where: Fourth floor, near the girls' bathrooms
What: Debugging the castle

It wasn't like he'd thought the first day of classes would be, for any possible meaning of the word, easy. Still, Spencer was maybe a little amused by just how quickly he'd found himself comforting some crying second year Ravenclaw girls about the "horrible, horrible things!" they'd apparently run into in the bathroom on the fourth floor. He'd spent his free period heading up to see what was going on, and after establishing that the horrible things were considerably more dangerous than a sixth year in a bad mood, he'd sealed off the bathroom and a good deal of the area around it and sent out an Owl to as many people he could think of who might be interested in fighting their way through some vicious greenery and what looked like two very annoyed Graphorns. He wondered how they could have missed it in their initial clean-up of the castle -- probably it had a trigger to do with students, he supposed, which meant he'd be willing to bet his life on some nasty charms waiting inside along with the more visible traps.

Now, he leaned back against the wall, twirling his wand idly between his fingers and waiting. To be honest, he was almost glad of the distraction from the pile of parchments waiting on his desk. He'd decided a good way to start off the year would be administering quizzes in an attempt to find out what the students already knew, and had somehow conveniently managed to forget while doing it that he was the one who was going to have to mark them.

Plants with seven inch teeth sounded infinitely preferable.

Who: Gabe and Spencer
When: Backdated like fucking crazy to shortly after this owl landed
Where: The greenhouses
What: "So, Slytherin, huh? What does that shit really mean?"

Hola Abuela, look at me now, Gabe was thinking, leaping down the front stairs of the castle two at a time. Of course, he wasn't actually sure that his maternal grandma would believe any more than he did that he had been made head of a house he barely understood at a school he hadn't attended in a country to whom he owed no allegiance, but had fought for regardless.

Gabe didn't actually live his life to fuck with his grandmother's head, but it was a nice perk.

It was a lovely evening, and despite the fact that he whined from October right through to April every year he'd been in this benighted country so far, Gabe would readily admit that one of the good points of being this far north was how long the sunlight lasted in summer. It was rich and golden, pouring over him like honey as he strode down the lawn towards the still battered-looking greenhouses, wherein he really hoped he was going to find Spencer Smith. Because if he was going to be head of Slytherin, and the owl from Schechter suggested he was -- and oh look, he was still holding that, better shove it in a pocket or something. Where was he? Right. Being head of Slytherin. Maybe knowing a bit more about the house than Pete's drunken prejudices and the layout of their dorms might be a good idea.

"Anyone alive in there?" he called out, as he came up towards the entrance to the main greenhouse.

Who: Anyone and everyone
When: Monday morning
Where: The staff lounge
What: Staff meeting!

William strolled into the staff lounge five minutes early, with teacup in hand and new robe flowing breezily behind him. He sipped briefly as he noted the other staff members already present, and then the note hovering just above the table, covered in Schechter's sharp, harried handwriting.

It was hard to resist anything in writing, particularly when it might be informative. Glancing around, William flipped his voluminous sleeve back with one smooth twist and plucked the note card from the air between two fingers, scanning the contents.

Business to attend to, arranging the train or an alternative method of transportation. I'm sure all of you can handle whatever needs to be discussed. Don't forget the kids come on Sunday. - Schechter

William blinked once, then set the card carefully back into mid-air. "Well," he remarked. "That's interesting."

Who: Jon and Spencer
Where: Front steps of the castle
When: Morning
What: A tour 'round the castle.

Spencer clutched the large cup of coffee to his chest a little possessively and sat down on the third step from the giant doors. He'd Owled Jon Walker last night suggesting meeting after breakfast outside, and now he was occupied trying to remember at what time the rest of the castle ate. Spencer hadn't gone down to the Great Hall for breakfast -- it had been strange enough last night with shadows taking up a good portion of the corners, and Spencer didn't think he was quite ready to see exactly how empty it was in the full light of day. A trip to the kitchens for coffee and out there on the steps left him, he hoped, sufficiently awake.

He wasn't sure how they'd been selected for the tours, although he guessed that his appointment made sense. He'd spent most of the summer prowling the grounds, looking out first for the (many) hidden traps and dangers that had been planted generously through Hogwarts, and then hunting for supplies for the depleted greenhouses. He'd found plenty of both, and had the odd advantage of knowing the school grounds like the back of his palm by now. So, okay, the appointments had made sense. Mostly, Spencer was just glad that -- anyway. He wasn't going to think about this evening. He was going to make nice to Jon, and then go and hide in Greenhouse #4, the one hidden halfway into the Forbidden Forest, for the rest of the day.

The clock in the castle rang out nine o'clock, and Spencer stood up, hunching his shoulders against the cool breeze and blinking into the morning sun.

Who: Summer staff and early arrivals
Where: The Great Hall
When: Dinnertime
What: The last evening before new arrivals


William understood the need to move from the staff lounge into the Great Hall for meals now that their numbers were increasing, but it was still strange (and slightly creepy) to eat dinner in a vast room so empty that it echoed whenever his fork tapped his plate. Maybe they should have Chinese next time; chopsticks would make less noise.

It was sirloin tonight, it looked like. Most likely the house elves wanted to enjoy themselves cooking fancy meals for a just a few before they had to start preparing food in bulk. The high table was set up with all chairs facing the hall, which made sense during the year when there were children to supervise, but made conversation difficult right now. William hooked his wand beneath the decorative filigree on the back and cast enough of a lightening charm to pull the chair around behind him to the opposite side of the table. It was a little close to the edge of the dais, but it would do.

"It's weird in here," he commented, settling in across from the others and summoning a place setting from the abandoned corner of the table. "Nice, but still weird."