From the Ashes

WHO: Adam and Z
WHERE: the grounds.
WHAT: Clumsiness. Snow.
WHEN: Early evening, Tuesday (2/2)

All Adam really wanted out of life was the chance to have a cigarette before tutoring with Z. However, he worked in a school, and schools tended to be crawling with students, on principle. Which meant that he had to sneak through corridors and doors and out onto the grounds and find somewhere secluded enough that he could suck down a cigarette (or two, if he was fast enough, and often was) in peace and quiet.

Whether it was by some magical force or by the clumsiness brought on by having to walk everywhere in snow boots, Adam ended up on his back in a snow drift. He was pretty sure that one leg was going the other direction than he was laying. A bit of wiggling reassured him that it wasn't broken, just twisted and burning with the fire of a thousand suns.

That was just. Fucking. Delightful.

Adam let out a long-suffering sigh and fumbled his wand out of his pocket, pulling his hood up behind his head and casting imperviate to keep the snow from seeping through any more than it already was. It even kind of worked on the cold, which was nice. He then found his pack of cigarettes, lit up, and blew smoke rings into the blue sky above him.

It was just that kind of day.

Who: Adam and Z
When: Tuesday, January 26, last period
Where: Adam's office
What: Officially a DADA tutoring session. Really it's a chance for Z to deal with her emotions and get some perspective

Z knocked on Adam's office door twice to let him know she was there, then entered without permission. She took a seat in front of Adam's desk and probably looked exactly like the frazzled and stressed out twenty-one year old she usually hid behind smart remarks, short skirts and keeping her distance.

"How do you teach them? They're all horrible little monsters who don't do their work or care about the subject or respect me. God, I could just kill the 6th years-they're all right little smug bastards who think they know shit about Runes when really, most of them are somewhere between 4th and 5th year level because they haven't had proper classes until they got to Hogwarts."

Z paused for breath and settled into her chair a bit more comfortably.

"Hello Adam. Today I got to teach three Runes classes, including what was my own 7th year class right up through yesterday. I want to slap the headmaster for having Healer Bryar take over the class when he doesn't know the subject. I'd also like to eviscerate most of the Ancient Runes students. I would also like to garrote Beckett with his hair and I would give someone's heart to have the Concerned Wizards of Britain stop mucking about with my House. Also, you and I need to chat about wards and why Victoria Asher knows all about this project. I want her in on it, obviously. But I certainly did not expect to have a conversation with her about this last week."

Who: Staff and TAs
When: Monday morning, January 25
Where: The staff lounge
What: Staff meeting about upcoming bad press

Enough people were present for Brian to start the staff meeting.

“Right, so I know things have been a little hectic-” Brian ignored the snorts and someone’s laughter and continued. “Yes, I know, it’s been fucking insane. You all knew that by the end of your first week and didn’t resign then, so suck it up. Hazards of the job and all.”

He waved his wand and a proof copy of this morning’s Daily Prophet shot out. It zoomed around the room for a few seconds before docilely floating next to Brian. He ignored the paper and its antics.

“I imagine that most of you have been ignoring the letters to the editor and op-ed pieces in recent issues of the Prophet, since no one actually cares about typographical errors and mis-attributed photographs or what barmy wizards think about Ministry polices. Time to start paying attention now.

“Some disgruntled parents and Hogwarts alums have been writing in, mostly to bitch about what we’ve been doing with the school. I’ve got a stack of letters about that on my desk, I’m sure most of you have gotten a few since you started. Someone’s been organizing them in a group, Concerned Wizards of Britain. They’re starting to make more noise and get some attention. They petitioned to meet with me and the Board of Governors this weekend about some of the decisions I’ve made-staff I’ve hired. Obviously, I’m not just going to give in to their whims and Rita Skeeter’s protégé got wind of the story. It’s front page of this morning’s Daily Prophet.”

Brian duplicated his paper and sent the copies whizzing around, one for each person present. One of the headlines screamed

“DO WE TRUST OUR CHILDREN TO FOREIGN WIZARDS?”

Below that, other headlines read:

“Is "Change" a good thing? Does Hogwarts need a new perspective?”

“Must we reinvent our school?”

“Where are all the British professors?”

Brian let everyone take a moment or two to read the headlines and think about them.

“So, the school’s under attack in the paper. Mostly it’s focused around my decision to hire foreign-born staff and keep Professor Saporta as the Head of Slytherin in light of hiring Professor Asher. It’s bullshit, we’re figuring it’ll blow over soon, but I wanted to tell you all before copies start getting distributed in the Great Hall.”

Brian collected his copy of the paper and rearranged his robes slightly. “So, I’ll be in my office dealing with Howlers and letters if anyone needs me. Owl or fire-call me if something comes up you can’t handle.” With that, Brian left the staff lounge.

Who: John & Adam
When: Sunday morning
Where: the Bakery in Hogsmeade

John woke up sweaty, feeling like someone was looming over him, repeatedly casting the Cruciatus curse with wand pointed directly at his forehead.  The next target was his stomach, a gut-wrenching twist of his insides, and then the dry-heaving started.  'Oh, great,' he thought. 'Another hangover.'  Having been unable to secure the hangover potion from Bryar before leaving the castle, he knew he'd have to settle for another of nature's wonder cures...coffee.  He made his way to the bathroom and cleaned up as best he could, but even he could admit he was looking a little rough.  A huge, bear-like stretch later, and he was shrugging his pants back on and putting on a t-shirt, before bundling up under his pea coat and green scarf.

He made his way out of the Three Broomsticks, letting his nose lead the way to the best bakery in all of Hogsmeade.  The smell of pastries made his stomach simultaneously turn and feel incredibly empty, and as he wasn't sure which ending would be reality, he decided not to eat anything when he arrived outside the little shop.  Reaching for the door handle, he was surprised as the door flew open and he was knocked backwards by a tall, solid object, which he recognized seconds later to be the curvy backside of a man who'd been trying to push the door open with full hands.  "Merlin, watch where you're going!" he exclaimed in a huff, after regaining his balance.  His agitation rose as the man turned.

WHO: Adam & John
WHERE: Hogsmeade
WHAT: Celebratus Interruptus
WHEN: Saturday, January 23; Evening


The only real downside to having a teaching position at Hogwarts for Adam was that he was required to be at the school, teaching classes, five days out of the week. It was different from when he worked with the government and could move days around, or take days off whenever he felt like it. He couldn't just have someone stand in for him - he'd found that out the hard way back when his students didn't respect him, much less some substitute. But he was trading his liquid schedule for being in one place, trading being able to do whatever he wanted whenever he wanted for a home and a family.

It just meant shifting things around a little until it worked out. So if they were going to get a babysitter, and he was going to take his wife out for a little birthday celebration, then, well, they'd just have to do it on a weekend when he could get out of the castle, wouldn't they?

That was what led to Saturday night, post dinner, drinking at the Three Broomsticks with a group of friends, squished together in a booth with his arm around her. Early, but kind of perfect.

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: Adam and Greta
What: Discussions about inappropriate conduct and the many uses of bludgers
When: Friday, January 15th (the day before the Hufflepuff vs. Slytherin Quidditch game)
Where: The DADA office

There were exactly 47 ways for a Quidditch player to get injured without actually falling off his or her broom. At least, that was the number Greta had come up with in the last half hour, although she couldn't remember if it included the number of individual finger bones that could get broken by a Bludger. All in all, she needed to do something other than obsess about the number of tragic accidents she might have to prevent on the Quidditch pitch tomorrow. It wouldn't be so bad if she were convinced that the players were taking the risks seriously, but when she had tried to talk to the teams about defensive flying during their last practices before the game, no one had even been paying attention. She'd even caught three of the Hufflepuffs going over their "teacher ratings" in the middle of practice - which turned out, much to Greta's embarrassment, to be detailed ratings of a the professors' relative "shaggability".

It might not have been so bad if Adam Lazzara hadn't been rated more highly on hair than Greta herself. It was insultingly inappropriate in all senses of the word.

Professor Lazzara was not in Greta's good books at the moment. Whatever Z might say about tutoring, she was spending far more time in private with him than any student should with a professor. And hadn't there been some rumour about Lazzara spending time in Hogsmeade with a blonde? It was all just a little too suspicious. Greta glanced at the clock. It was only just after five - Lazzara should be on his own - unless of course he had any after-hours tutoring sessions this evening.

Well, she couldn't do anything to stop the students from bashing each others' heads in tomorrow, but maybe she could have a quiet word with Lazzara about what happened to people who took advantage of her friends. She headed off for the DADA office before she could change her mind. Pounding on a door would do wonders for her stress, anyway.

Who: John & Adam
When: Thursday, January 21 during lunch
Where: Staff Lounge

The Gryffindor/Ravenclaw pairing of his Thursday mornings was somewhat exhausting, so instead of eating lunch in the Great Hall with the students, he found himself slumped in a chair in the staff lounge, sipping some tea and reading the Daily Prophet.  He was looking forward to the weekend, with plans to go to Hogsmeade and celebrate the end of his first week as Arithmancy Professor, but there was still a whole Friday to get through first.

His class schedule was a little bit random, but he'd found he had plenty of free time for marking the number charts he'd assigned, with time remaining to explore the castle.  He'd eventually found his rooms.  He wondered who might have occupied them before, as they were lushly furnished, but nondescript in the sense that there were no artifacts left by the room's previous occupant. 

They were only two floors away from his classroom, and consisted of four rooms: an office with ample space for all of his charts and posters with a second entrance into the sitting room of his chambers, located discretely in the back; a sitting room, decorated in Victorian-era flat paint with large wall hangings reflecting the Gothic style, with a large oak-framed couch in front of a stone fireplace; an extra-large bedroom with a massive four-poster bed up against the far wall and a lounge chair upholstered in fine Italian silk at its foot; and a private bath, complete with a large old-style tub that looked like it could seat at least three.  He wasn't used to living in such lush conditions, but found the room comforting and had been spending a lot of time in it.

Hoping to make contact with some of the other professors, he'd decided to stay in the staff lounge through lunch and the two periods following it, as he was scheduled free time.  He was just about to pull out some of the homework he'd collected the day before for grading when the door swung open.

WHO: Adam & Z
WHERE: Adam's classroom
WHAT: Tutoring sesh.
WHEN: Tuesday, January 19, 7th Period


Today, Adam's goal was to try and teach Z to make a patronus. After New Years, that had been something he'd been determined to do, and today was the day they got started on that. Might as well, since he was determined to hide out in his office as much as humanly possible since discovering that John Nolan was now also teaching at Hogwarts.

And despite what he'd told Z previously about Voodoo dolls being for total assholes, but he would have loved nothing better than to make one of John just then. But that was uncouth and he wouldn't do that. But first, tutoring. With Berg.

Who: Victoria and Adam
What: Victoria needs to have a chat with the DADA professor about student conduct
When: Wednesday, January 13, evening
Where: Adam's office

Victoria Asher was quite the formidable sight when annoyed, and anyone looking at her as she strode down the halls of Hogwarts on Wednesday evening could hardly miss that she was annoyed. She was headed directly for the DADA office, practically dragging a fourth-year student who had better sense than to protest. Whatever she'd said to the lad, or more likely whatever she'd caught him at, before hauling him up to see Professor Lazzara had cowed him so much he wasn't issuing even a peep of protest.

As Victoria came to the door, she stopped short, so quickly that the poor boy almost tripped over her feet and his own. He regained his balance while Victoria rapped sharply on Adam's office door, her expression reflecting both clear impatience at having to wait on Adam to open it and the amount of trouble she expected her charge to be in immediately afterward: a lot.

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: Adam & Gabe
WHERE: Adam's office/rooms
WHAT: Gabe putting porridge down Adam's pants?
WHEN: Wednesday, January 13, during their mutual free period.

Adam was hiding. Still. It was just better to stay in his office and avoid people rather than go out and be somewhere he might run into Gerard. Or Mikey, or - fuck, Gabe, who had thought that Adam was a werewolf and that was clearly, clearly not true.

Staying in his office was the best form of hiding, and if anyone asked, he totally had an excuse. He was researching. He was working on his report! He was looking things up for Z! Honestly! He was totally not hiding at all.

Nevermind that most of the time he didn't even have a book open or a quill out. Nevermind that most of his time spent alone in his office was spent dozing, or standing in his room looking anxiously at the healing bite-mark on his neck. (He could look at the one on his hand whenever he wanted. It required a lot less high-necked clothing.)

Who: Z and Adam
What: The start of weekly DADA tutoring and a conversation about Dark magic and wards
When: BACKDATED Tuesday, January 5
Where: The DADA classroom and surrounding environs

Z liked to think that she was watching the clock tick like a sleek predator waiting out its prey but really, she was watching it like something helpless that was praying for divine intervention. Today was the worst day ever. Z had woken up around 5 am from near-nightmares about time travel. The sheer amount of magic she'd been exposed to the past weekend was still sending her senses reeling and the vicious fighting and deaths she'd seen in the past were still affecting her. The loss of William's friendship stung and Z was still trying to sort out how she felt about Gerard being a werewolf and having to fight him off to protect Professor Lazzara.

Z had also woken up covered in sparkles and when she'd flailed and fallen out of bed due to the potent combination of almost-nightmare and glitter, she'd realized she was trailing them. This wasn't the worst reaction she'd ever had to her cat allergy potion (Z was pretty sure this had happened a couple times, though the colors might have been different-once when she was eight and delighted by it, once when she was thirteen and she'd be appalled, and again during her last year of high school, which had "forced" her to skip so not to freak out the muggles) but it was still annoying. No one wanted to be trailing multicolored sparkles, especially to the second-ever class they had to TA. Worse, it was Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs. And Ryan Ross. First thing in the morning.

Z's life sucked.

Charms had been all right, though she couldn't quite meet Nate Novarro's eyes (she'd spent large parts of the holidays avoiding him like the plague) and Herbology continued to confuse her. Also, there was dirt. Somehow Z'd managed to sparkle through the dirt. Potions had actually been really good, but Runes ruined her day. The sixth years were all bastards who needs to die and Ryan Ross seriously needed to get his shit together and actually figure out how to teach. It was so close to 3:50 pm and Z was so close to freedom.

Finally! Freedom from Runes. Z was the first one out of the room and intended to back to her dorm and have a wonderful, glorious and otherwise amazing nap until dinner. Then her planner started shrieking at her about being late. Z checked it and swore. Defense Against the Dark Arts tutoring with Professor Lazzara, 4pm.

Fuck her life.

Z turned abruptly and started trudging towards the DADA classroom.

WHO: Adam & Z
WHERE: the DADA classroom & surrounding areas
WHAT: The World's Most Awkward Tutoring Session. Ever.
WHEN: (BACKDATED) Monday, December 28 - afternoon

Even though this session had been scheduled for weeks - much like the session the day all of them had ended up beneath the mistletoe in the first place - Adam wasn't looking forward to trying to teach Z Berg anything. Or even looking her in the eye. If he could do that. He wasn't really sure he could look her in the face after having had to kiss her - and after all the dreams that he'd had thanks to Hogwarts's lovely, monstrous hybrid of dreamvine and mistletoe.

Adam kind of hated everything about Hogwarts sometimes.

That was precisely why he was sitting at his desk in his office, feet up on the corner, radio on and eyes closed. And okay, if anyone knocked and wanted to know what he was doing, he was reading. Hey, look, there was even a book open on his lap, okay, no one needed to know that he was really watching the insides of his eyelids. He was just trying to find his zen, was all. And brace himself for an hour or so of trying to get Elizabeth Berg to apply practical Dark Arts Defense with skill and finesse.

He needed the rest.

Who: Z, Adam, Bob (and Betsy)
When: Very late on December 31
Where: Hospital Wing
What: Z introduces Bob to The Patient

After successfully levitating Adam after Gerard's attack, Z made her way to the Hospital Wing as quickly as possible. She decided to eschew the not-so-secret-passages that would make the trip shorter, but would also increase the odds of Adam getting some kind of unintentional damage from his head bouncing off a wall or something.

"-so I'm sitting with Greenwald and Alexa and it's sort of confusing because she also goes by Alex sometimes? So we've instituted a last names policy thing when it comes to Alexes and Mikes and Nicks, only we're all rather sloshed at this party and it's really hard to pronounce Runion's last name after a certain point and that point is also when "Mark" and "Mike" start sounding alike? So I'm sitting with Alexa and Greenwald, trying to talk to Murray and Runion about...something, and someone was distracting me and somehow this becomes a game of truth or dare? These things happen, and then someone dares Greenwald to snog Mike, but it comes out like Mark or maybe Runion ended up sounding like Ronson? Either way, the only Mark in the room right then is Ronson and that was hilarious because they had a thing neither of them admits to-and you're not listening at all, are you?"

Z'd had to take a flight of stairs that was notorious for shifting direction and she'd ended up one floor above and most of a corridor away from the Hospital Wing. Adam was sliding in and out of consciousness and Z was certain he shouldn't be allowed to pass out entirely so she needed something he could focus on. Stupid stories about her friends obviously weren't doing the trick-singing might?

"What are your thoughts on Queen, Professor? No objections? Excellent. Feel free to sing along then." Z started singing Bohemian Rhapsody (figuring that with Adam in tow and The Events of Which No One Should Ever Speak, it was a better idea than Somebody To Love, which was the only other Queen song she knew most of the lyrics to). She got most of the way through the song when she came the Hospital Wing doors. Z stopped midlyric to rush forward, bang on the door and yell

"Healer Bryar! Professor Lazzara's been hurt!"

WHO: Adam & Gerard & Z
WHERE: the DADA classroom & surrounding areas
WHAT: SHENANIGANS
WHEN: New Year's Eve (Thursday, Dec. 31)

Adam, being prone to getting into trouble when the mere thought of boredom set in, had spent the day locked up in his office, scribbling away at a myriad of notes and research. He was trying to compile them into something that made sense (he had been for years - he was an extremely unproductive researcher). So if time got away from him, that was totally understandable.

That was why he was running late for a hot date with a hot lady as he tried to stack all the mess scattered around his office and get everything locked up whilst paying attention to personal hygiene (not awful, even though there was a big smear of ink on his cheek) and the state of his clothes (dismal).

He got his jacket caught on the doorknob of his classroom on the way out, and had to stop to untangle, swearing all the while.

Dear Scrabble Team 'Skipped A Few Classes in Primary School',

There is no such thing as a netbook in the English or Latin languages. To give you the benefit of the doubt, perhaps you meant notebook, and one of your intended letters inconveniently fell off the board and the word rearranged itself into incomprehensibility. Possibly you were thinking of a neti pot, but while those are currently in existence (albeit not as a solitary compound word), neti books almost certainly, to my knowledge, are not. No one in their right mind, flexible Indian yoga practitioner or not, would attempt to use any sort of book in such a manner.

Your score has been penalized accordingly.

P.S. If this has anything to do with the Worldwide Spiderweb, please remember that Muggle slang has no place in civilized Scrabble games. Do try to spell with some decorum.

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: Audrey, Adam, Z, and Nate
Where: random icy corridor
When: Tuesday 22 December
What: evil mutant mistletoe! (and ice skating)

Tuesdays without Gryffindor/Slytherin 5th years were fast becoming Audrey's favourite kind of Tuesday. She was headed up to the owlery after breakfast, blissfully enjoying the freedom of not hearing William and Ellsworth bickering, and so was completely taken by surprise when she rounded a corner and her feet shot out from underneath her.

Laughter rang out as soon as she hit the ground, from a group of students who appeared to be using the hallway for ice skating. Just because the gods frowned upon Slytherins, Ellsworth was there and laughing the hardest. Audrey rolled her eyes and used a low-hanging portrait to pull herself back upright.

"All right, professor?" One of the Hufflepuffs, Susannah something, called out. Audrey flapped a hand at her.

"Yes, fine. How long has this ice been here?" She asked the group at large. Several shrugs went around. "Okay, easier question, how long have you lot been sliding around on it?"

"We just found it this morning." A Gryffindor prefect said. He looked a bit sheepish to be caught skating around in the corridor like a firstie in socks. "Prim did a spell for detecting dark magic, she said we should be safe."

Prim nodded firmly when Audrey glanced her way. She had to admit, it was more likely this was the same malfunctioning charm still causing snowdrifts in the staff room than some sort of evil plot. And it did look like an awful amount of fun.

"Yes, all right, don't let me ruin it." Audrey said. "Still, least you could do was put up a sign or something." She edged carefully back around the corner to whisk up some kind of warning.