From the Ashes

Who: Victoria and Gabe
When: Tuesday, January 26, evening
Where: Restricted Section
What: One Head of House job, two professors, lots of issues (and probably many witnesses).

Victoria had allotted Tuesday evening to her wards research. She had made her way to the library, past the librarian's desk, from which the librarian was fortunately absent at the moment of her arrival, and all the way back to the Restricted Section, where she was selecting an armfull of volumes for examination, probably in her office. The impulse to sneak by William was craven, and she knew it, but she still wasn't ready to discuss the Prophet's campaign and she expected the subject to come up. And it wasn't like she was a Gryffindor to have to care about denying her cowardly impulses. She'd had to deal with the curious stares of students of all four houses for the last two days. That was enough without having to analyse her own impulses on the matter, Ravenclaw-style.

Wards research was, in a welcome contrast, quite soothing. Find the book, read the relevant sections, take notes as needed for later cross-referencing. Lather, rinse, repeat. She'd been at it for perhaps a quarter-glass, ignoring the rest of the world, when she realised she was no longer alone in the Restricted Section. She didn't think it was William, but maybe if she ignored whoever it was, they would go away and leave her to her work.

Who: Gabe and Z
When: Monday, January 25
Where: Gabe's classroom/office
What: Z wants to make sure Gabe's still up for helping her earn an "E" on her potions NEWT

After Z's last class of the day (Herbology and why had she thought taking that was such a great idea to begin with?) Z swung by Gabe's office, hoping to catch him. She knocked and without waiting for a response, she entered.

Gabe was doing something. Z cleared her throat, in case he hadn't noticed her presence already.

"In class you said we got to ask you three questions unrelated to Potions. I have three for you now. Do you know Matthew St. Johns and if you do, can you write me a letter of introduction? I think he has a book I rather desperately need. Second, does my essay really have to be fifteen inches? You know I can get to the point and make a good argument in less space and I have to do stuff to get ready for tomorrow's Sixth Year Runes class and some notes to go over on the wards project I'm working on. Finally-"

Here Z paused for a second, and then in a much less business-like tone (but not one too overly familiar) she asked "How are you doing with everything?"

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: 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: Gabe and William
When: The wee hours of December 31st
Where: Gabe's rooms
What: Blood magic and dreams

William hit the bookshelf hard. He moaned into Gabe's mouth, already pulling at the heavy encumbrance of Gabe's robes to get to the skin and muscle beneath. Gabe's hand was around his throat - oh, he knew this dream, this memory, knew it well - and he squeezed as William pushed up against him, panting. William's head dropped back against the shelf and he inhaled raggedly, spots dancing in front of his eyes at the lack of oxygen, his hips still rocking forward, riding the bulge beneath Gabe's robe. "Don't stop," he gasped, afraid of the moment Gabe would pull away and leave him here, aching and incomplete.

The library swirled into gray around them, resolving into his rooms, candlelit and shadowed. His rooms, his bed, his door which Gabe currently had him pressed up against; much better for their purposes, certainly much more convenient than a library shelf. Gabe's hand tightened around his throat, and there was a strange sibilant hiss in his voice when he answered, "Oh, I won't." William opened his eyes and saw Gabe smiling, sharpened snake's teeth gleaming and a droplet of bright blood dripping from one pointed fang. William choked at the pressure, lungs screaming for air, twisting to get away in vain as Gabe leaned closer and hissed, "This is payback."

William woke up. It took a while for the room to distinguish itself from the darkness of night, for his eyes to adjust and his heart to stop pounding. He was soaked with sweat, one hand clutching the damp sheet covering his mattress. He got out of bed and set the candles alight, trying to chase away the lingering shadows and sick feeling left from the nightmare. He would have a cup of tea. Do some reading, visit the bath, maybe head down to breakfast early if he was still awake. Falling back asleep right now seemed impossible, with the memory of suffocation crowding in on him in his silent room. He could breathe perfectly fine, he told himself. It was just a dream. He could always go to - not to Gabe, he would ask too many questions - but to Bob, ask about a dreamless sleep potion. Bob had told him...had said...

Standing, William Summoned his night robe from the closet and belted it tightly around him. His hands shook slightly when he tied the knot, but it was just the claustrophobia of the room, the lateness of the hour, the idea that...

He grabbed the stack of parchment and headed for the dungeons before he could talk himself out of it. There was someone he needed to see, whether either of them liked it or not.

Who: Gabe and William
When: Late night, December 29th
Where: Primarily Gabe's rooms
What: Returning a lost belonging

William was re-shelving his last stack of books for the night when a flicker of motion caught the corner of his eye. There was nothing there when he turned, which led him to suspect it was one of the older students sneaking around trying to gain access to the Restricted Section. He frowned, waiting a moment longer, and then reached up to slide the final book onto the shelf and saw the flicker again. Much closer this time. A few inches from his fingers, in fact.

The mysterious intruder wasn’t a student, it was a snake. A hooded cobra, specifically. And one that was either Disillusioned or Chameleon Cloaked, judging by the way it faded in and out of sight. “Hello,” he said cautiously, voice low. He wished he could speak Parseltongue, but tone of voice was the best he could do. Back in second-year, he and Andrew had spent several weeks attempting to learn the basics from a recorded spoken-words book, but that had been long ago and they’d never really mastered the art. It was a difficult language to get the hang of, when everything on the recording sounded almost exactly the same to their ears.

The snake either couldn’t read his tone or didn’t care, because she coiled warningly, head rearing back. William froze, keeping very still as he watched it for signs of aggression. He would be able to get to Bob in time if it were merely a case of snakebite venom, of course, but this was no ordinary snake. William could feel the tingle of magic flickering dangerously along with its forked tongue.

“Right,” he said slowly. “Just let me…”

A conjured mouse was probably less satisfying to a cobra than a real one, but debatably more ethical to produce, and certainly quicker in a pinch. The snake made reasonably fast work of it regardless, while William stood at a careful distance and watched, his wand moving in deliberate, measured circles. The snake moved more slowly as the temperature dropped, relaxing into well-fed torpidity. It didn’t react with alarm when William edged forward, so he hooked it gently with his wand and let it curl sleepily around his arm.

“No biting,” he told it. He couldn’t remember the name that had been on the notice, but he had no doubt where this particular magical minion belonged. Apparently they were off to visit Gabe.

( Wanted! )

Who: Gerard and Gabe
Where: The corridor outside the library, immediately after this conversation
When: Early afternoon, Thursday, December 24th
What: In which Gerard and Gabe are both in bad moods


Gerard was a little unnerved by how empty the corridors were right now. Normally at this time of day he'd be lurking around the Great Hall, watching the students go back and forth -- it was a good way to keep an eye out for shifts in the currents of the school, to observe the sometimes hilarious patterns of the teenaged population. But most of the students had gone home for the holiday, and the ones remaining had no set schedule. Gerard was at loose ends.

He'd pretty much been kicked out of the common room that morning by the Gryffindor kids that had stayed -- he'd told Mikey he'd make a terrible head of house, Gerard thought grumpily, barely resisting the urge to stomp down the hall. He had some semblance of stealth and dignity left somewhere; he wasn't going to stomp. But Bob was doing some mysterious experiment in the Hospital Wing and Gerard had been informed he couldn't participate for reasons of Healer-patient confidentiality. Which sucked a lot, especially since there seemed to be an awful lot of explosions involved in whatever it was Bob was doing. Gerard was valiantly not investigating, but it wasn't exactly improving his mood to be excluded, even for a good reason.

He'd patrolled around the grounds for a bit, watching a snowball fight and an extremely disorganized Quidditch match, and Frank doing something really mysterious with a planter that seemed to require a lot of explosions -- everyone was getting to explode shit except Gerard.

It'd been a shitty couple of days, and Gerard had just wanted to relax and watch the epic trainwreck that was Peaches and Byron and Geoffrey's odd interhouse threesome, or to listen to Bob explain the implications and variations on the Aperio charm, or to blow something up. He could have asked Frank if he needed a hand -- but Frank already thought Gerard was a complete nutter without Gerard flying down out of nowhere and begging to explode things.

Fuck it, he'd thought. He'd go pester William and see if they'd gotten any new medical journals in. Maybe see if he wanted to duck out of the library for some coffee and talk over all the shit that'd been going down. Besides, Gerard was getting a little worried about William, to be honest. He'd looked sort of peaked lately, and, well, everyone was stressed at the moment, but Gerard wasn't entirely sure William was over the whole Veelification ordeal, or that cursed knife from way back when, come to think of it. He rounded a corner, pondering the best way to pry William out of his library stronghold and into the staff room where there was caffeine and biscuits, and then skidded to an abrupt halt, startled. Gabe Saporta was leaning with his back against the closed door to the library, head bowed, looking like... well, like someone had stabbed him.

"Hey," Gerard said, approaching warily, fighting the urge to snap his wand into his hand just in case there had been actual stabbing going on. There was no blood, but this was fucking Hogwarts -- you never knew. "Are you... is everything alright?"

WHO: Gabe and William
WHERE: The library
WHAT: Conversing. One on one. Hey, this is a big step for them.
WHEN: 24th December. Shortly after William intellectually broke up with Gabe by owl.

( Gabe's windowledge was hot owl real-estate. )

WHO: Brendon & Adam & anyone else who wants to go caroling
WHERE: The entrance hall of the castle and Hogsmeade village
WHAT: Caroling and the spreading of CHEER to all and sundry.
WHEN: Christmas Eve (Thursday, Dec. 24)

Adam hadn't bothered to attend any kind of dress rehearsal for caroling. Especially since Professor Urie's idea of caroling seemed to involve costumes and sequins and this was not Mardi Gras, it was caroling. Also, Urie's owl had said something about the dress part of dress rehearsal.

Urie could wear all the dresses he wanted, but Adam wanted no part of that. It was too cold for dresses, besides.

He arrived in the entrance hall a bit earlier than intended, but since he and Urie were in charge of this whole thing, it was just as well. He sat down on the steps to wait for more people to arrive so they could head off caroling.

Who: Everyone is invited to attend
When: December 20th - December 21st
Where: The Great Hall, Entrance Hall, and Courtyard
What: Yule Vigil

On the longest night of the year, all lights in the castle will be doused with the exception of one main bonfire in the Great Hall, which will burn throughout the night. The vigil is a time for reflection on the past year, preparing to face the new year to come. Those who keep it will not sleep until after they watch the sunrise.

Since this is an all-night event, feel free to start multiple threads and jump around as you wish. It's a good time for telling stories, remembering lost friends, making amends, setting new goals, and resolving to change for the better. No one is required to attend or to stay for the entire night if they do not wish to do so.

The bonfire is in the Great Hall, but the doors are open to the Entrance Hall, which will spill enough light outside that people can mingle there. The Entrance Hall is an easier place to have more animated conversations without disturbing the solemnity of those gathered in the Great Hall to reflect in the firelight. The Courtyard is lit by the moon and stars, and is a good place to go for those who feel the desire to commune with nature, or who need a breath of fresh air.

Who: Anyone and everyone!
When: Sunday morning, December 20th
Where: The staff lounge
What: Weekly staff meeting. Let's get this holiday party started!

"So Professor Saporta will be in charge of decorations," Brian concluded, still without any idea of how that had come about, and hoping it hadn't actually been his decision, as he feared it might have been. "Professor Smith can handle the trees, and that should put us in good stead for the end of the week. Hogwarts has a seasonal decoration charm, which I can put into effect now, that should save us all a great deal of trouble."

He cast the charm, the castle recognizing his authority as headmaster and bending neatly to his will. Garlands sprung up around the sideboard, crystal icicles glistened overhead, and a sprig of holly landed neatly on the tea tray. Excellent. "Professor Urie will be accompanying the carolers to..."

Snow began falling lightly in the staff lounge. One the sideboard, a festive wooden reindeer ornament leapt to the floor, charged beneath the table, and dashed through the door with a squeal, singing "FA LA LA LA LA," in a high-pitched festive wooden reindeer voice. As Brian opened his mouth to speak, a shower of miniature candy canes fell out of the air to rain down on everyone's heads.

"For fuck's sake," Brian said. Overhead, a candy cane wobbled loose from its perch on a twinkling icicle and smacked him on the nose. "Keep going," he ordered, pointing back at his staff, and went off down the hallway in a swirl of headmasterly robes, following the singing reindeer.

Who: Bob, Gabe, William, Gerard
Where: Bob's rooms/the hospital wing
What: Nightime visitations (what happened after this).
When: Late Thursday evening, November 26th 19th (whoops)

One of the nice things about being the healer, in Bob's opinion, was that his rooms were right next to the hospital wing, with doors connecting them to both the wing itself and the adjoining hall. This meant that as long as he has some means of acquiring food and drink (Auror Way, random first years, and the occasional Summoning spell seemed to do fine), he need never actually leave his bubble of safety and risk running into a peeved Lazzara. Not that Bob was planning on hiding away for the rest of the school year or anything crazy like that. Just until the Defense professor cooled down a bit over his forced delivery to Williams. So, sometime after the Christmas holidays, perhaps.

The unfortunate thing about having rooms right next to the hospital wing was that people had no trouble finding him. Which was a good thing, really, since it wasn't as if Bob wanted anyone to be in pain or something longer than they needed to be just because they could find the healer. Still, he couldn't help a small sigh of regret as he was called away from his current game with Betsy (Bob was going to win this one, he could feel it) by someone banging on the door.

Bob limped over to the door and opened it.

Who: Gabe and William
When: Thursday, immediately following this
Where: William's rooms
What: You can probably guess.

The journey to William's rooms had in theory been more accelerated than usual, but in reality probably took longer, owing to the number of times they'd paused along the way so that one or the other of them could pin the other against the nearest wall. They'd definitely scandalized a couple of portraits in the corridor outside William's door, which was practically in his rooms and therefore fair game (in William's opinion) for indulging in the same sorts of things that were about to happen inside them.

His door guardian raised an eyebrow and ruffled a few feathers when she saw them, but didn't offer any comment besides her customary, "Riddle?" spoken with perfect neutrality. They were very well-matched, William and Phix.

He didn't have the patience for riddles at the moment, however. "Now," he growled. Her tail lashed once, but his door swung open obediently. Phix might have been Sphinx, proud and aloof, answering to none, but she also knew William well enough to know when not to push him.

William twined around Gabe as the door closed behind them, the heavy scrape of stone-on-stone preceding perfect stillness. His arms wound up over Gabe's shoulders and into his hair, and he turned his face into Gabe's neck to inhale his scent again. "You should take your robe off," he advised, chasing the smell of smoke and musk into Gabe's hair and nuzzling into dark curls.

Who: Maja and Gabe
When: Friday the 13th (backdated)
Where: the Great Hall
What: youthful meetings!

Maja went to sleep one night a proud new member of the Swedish police force, and woke up eight years later at a school in Scotland. Or so explained the note she found by her bedside when she awoke. She authenticated the note three times, and performed a quick field test on herself to check for befuddlement charms, but it only took a single look out of her bedroom window to prove that she was definitely no longer in her little apartment in Gothenburg; last time she checked, her neighborhood had not had nearly this many turrets.

The whole situation was highly unusual, but made for a nice break from the two weeks of desk duty she had been expecting to wake up to. (For the record, the mishap with the hedgehogs had not been her fault. And even if it had been, it certainly wasn’t enough to warrant punishment by filing. Not even Karlsson had expected that multiplication charm, and it had been pure bad luck that Maja had triggered it just as the Director entered the room).

All in all, a surprise visit to Scotland wasn’t half bad. She poked around the room briefly, dressing in the unfamiliar robes she found in the closet, and ruefully acknowledging that it seemed she was never going to get any taller. Then, following the rough map sketched onto the back of the note she had apparently left for herself, she made her way down a ridiculous number of stairs to breakfast.

Who: Gabe and Ryan (spectators and interruptions welcome!)
When: Thursday after dinner
Where: Staff lounge
What: Serious chess business

Scrabble was all very well and good, but it wasn't a game for real men - it was just a spelling bee crossed with parquetry - and Gabe would feel that way even if he hadn't been banned from playing after the time he got caught drawing an extra leg on a P when he needed an R.

Chess was a completely different matter. Chess had history and tradition and application and gravitas. And also Gabe didn't completely suck at it. It had actually been quite a long time since he'd played a round, and so help him, there was going to be one tonight. He had the board all set up on the table in the staff lounge - Western rules and all, he was making sacrifices, man - he just needed a victim partner and--

"Fuck it." He also needed the pieces to stop rearranging themselves. Bloody animated English chess sets.

Who Gabe and Hayley
When Early evening Tuesday (10/11)
Where A second-floor corridor
What Appeasing the clipboard

Hayley wasn't snooping, or at the very least, no one could prove that she was. For all intents and purposes, she was just a former student taking a stroll around the school. Or what was left of it. It was strange; she'd loved Hogwarts, in the vague, distracted sort of way you loved the places that served as the more important backdrops to your life at one point or another, never really so deeply she'd cried the last time she'd left her dormitory, or felt compelled to cut a piece of grass from the Quidditch pitch. Coming back, though, and seeing caved-in class rooms, corridors that ended in gaping chasms and ripped paintings deserted by their inhabitants felt sad, in a sharper and more profound way than she'd expected. The statue of Björn the Bonkers, of all things, blown half to smithereens in the middle of the hallway, had nearly reduced her to tears on her first pass. She hurried past it now with her eyes averted (silly) and rounded the corner, drawing up short in surprise when she suddenly found herself face to face (or face to chest) with Gabe.

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: Gabe and William (and Andrew)
When: Saturday, mid-morning
Where: In the corridors near Andrew-the-ghost's hideaway
What: How could an awkward lanky librarian be this hard to find?

Gabe finally actually had some time - well, a little, since marking the sixth-year essays hadn't taken as long as he'd thought it might, but he'd been invited to stop in at the Slytherin quidditch team's strategy session this afternoon, despite the fact the whole team was well aware how rubbish he was on a broom, so there was no way he was missing that.

He'd been trying to catch up with William since Tuesday, and really trying since Thursday, but possibly Beckett had actually evaporated with the force of his horror (and scorn for Spencer and Pete) because he'd proved absolutely impossible to find. Gabe had even tried asking William's favourites - the tiny, serious Ravenclaws - if they knew his whereabouts, but in the subsequent staredowns Gabe had actually been unnerved first. He'd hex anyone who mentioned it.

And because he was so busy, it'd taken him this many days to think of the guy - well, ghost - he'd come up here to see. It wasn't at all Gabe's usual neck of the woods, and he wasn't sure precisely which room he was looking for, but he did know where the much-discussed Ministry bird was bunking these days (the Slytherins learned everything eventually, if you were willing to pay for it) so he knew where he was avoiding.

Which meant he was skulking out of a side corridor when a voice said, "Don't tell me you're hiding from Hayley as well."

Gabe may have flinched, but only a little. "Hey, I have time, but not that much time," he declared, turning back to face the floating (and grinning) ghost. "And I'd prefer to use it finding William. Any clues?" When Gabe had been catching his breath after the whole Travis thing, he'd managed to have a bit of a chat with Andrew, and the guy had known a lot about William. Telling things. That had been what finally made Gabe decide to trust him. Provisionally, at least.

Now the transparent grin just widened, and Andrew said, "This way, loverboy!"

The big problem with ghosts was that you couldn't punch them in their incorporeal arms.

Who: Gabe and William
When: Tuesday, last period, following this
Where: Potions classroom
What: Quite possibly a lot of railing

William barely waited until the clock had ticked over to the hour before marching down the stairs, all the way to the dungeons. He could see Gabe through the door as he approached, leaning back casually against his desk in lecture mode, so he didn't even wait before throwing the door open so hard it banged against the wall and storming inside.

"I know you know where I was," he raged. "I know because it's where I am every day. I know you can't possibly have been incompetent enough to forget that, or to forget that where I work is called the library, because it is full of books, and it is quiet. That is, in fact, one of the defining features of a library. It is a sacred, hallowed hall filled with precious written words and silence. Until this afternoon, when it was suddenly filled with the sound of your amplified shouting." He stabbed a furious finger at Gabe while he took a fresh breath for more volume. "You sent a HOWLER into a LIBRARY."