From the Ashes

Who: Nate, Gerard, William, Jon
When: New Year's Eve
Where: Out on the grounds
What: The hunt

It was freezing outside. Scotland in the dark time between December and January, of course it was. William had a heavy woolen cloak and a warming charm in his winter boots, but even that wasn't enough to cut the cold seeping through his many layers of clothing. He wasn't planning on staying out here long, at least. No more than an hour or two.

Bob's warnings had been frustratingly paradoxical. It would be best to quarantine him away from the students in case anything went wrong, but too dangerous for him to leave the grounds. William had decided on a walk around the outer wall of the castle, footfalls crunching quietly in the snow. It was peaceful out here, and he knew enough charms to avoid frostbite. The moon hung pregnant, full and round in the night sky. He could pick out an abundance of constellations from here, and wished briefly that he'd invited Mikey along for the walk.

It would have been too dangerous, though, if anything went wrong, and too cold, besides. Knowing Mikey, he would have agreed in the spirit of friendship, when he could have been curled up with Spencer in front of a roaring hearth. The potion Gabe had promised to attempt wouldn't be ready for another half-day, at least, so for now William was on his own, walking the grounds outside the castle.

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.

Who: William and Nate
When: The Monday after William's Weekend of Isolation (23 Nov.)
Where: Library
What: Questions and research and indirect-message-passing, oh my!

Nate had never thought of himself as a studier. Maybe it was a result of the Hufflepuff stereotype, maybe he was just a bit of a slacker, but he'd always tried to do his homework as quickly and correctly as possible, and never really worried about it beyond that. He'd definitely never voluntarily gone into the library.

He'd thought that he hadn't changed in the five years since he'd been at Hogwarts, but fighting with his teenage instincts during the de-aging had proved him wrong, fairly definitively. He could accept that, probably. That didn't mean he wanted to admit that he was actually doing research for something completely unrelated to any of his classes.

But after his debacle with Delving Into the Infinite Mysteries of the Spark Magnificus, it seemed fairly apparent that he was never going to actually understand anything about magical theory and origins unless he found the right books, and that was why they had a librarian, wasn't it?

Which very neatly fitted itself into another quandary: how to make sure that William was okay, and maybe try to find out what information he could, without being too obvious about it. He'd been thrilled at the first rumours of Saporta and William being completely indiscreet (how did anyone in this school expect to keep any secrets whatsoever? Except for Professor Blackington, but that was only a matter of time) in the hallways, worried at the news that Kara had seen Saporta carrying a Beckett-sized person down to the Hospital Wing, and more than a little unsettled by Gerard's vague report.

And then William had disappeared for the entire weekend. He was a little pale, Nate noticed, making his way through the mostly-deserted library. "William?"

WHO: Adam and Bob... and Nate... and Hayley...
WHERE: Bob's House of Pain, aka the Infirmary, a corridor, and Hayley's Office of Doom.
WHAT: The few, the proud, the memory-having.
WHEN: Friday afternoon (11/13)

While Adam was not a fan of Bob, he had heard a rumor, and that rumor was something to the effect of the following: Bob Bryar, nurse extraordinaire, retained his memory in a way that - sweet Merlin - so many other teachers had not. And man, did Adam ever need some sympathy. And possibly someone to put him out of his misery.

That was why he aimed toward the infirmary, anyway. Bob would have fun spells and potions and unctions and whatever else and he would understand why it was so damn hard to be adult-but-trapped-in-a-teenaged body. Also, Bob was probably swimming in his robes just as badly as Adam was. Adam couldn't remember being this short. And now he was. And it was weird. Even thinking "At Least I'm Not Patrick Stumph" didn't make him feel any better.

He burst into the infirmary. "Bryar! I need help!" he said, hoping that, well, Bob was around to witness his dramatic entrance. Otherwise it was a waste.

Who: Nate and Gerard
When: Wednesday, 13 November
Where: Random hallway #72!
What: De-aging shenanigans!

Nate's teenage years had been fine, as far as those things went — he'd actually enjoyed them, which was more than he could say for some people he knew — but that didn't mean he wanted to go through them again. Twenty one had been a well-deserved age; he'd kind of wanted to experience it for a little while longer.

Instead, he'd abruptly lost six years and a fair bit of height, which Nate didn't appreciate in the slightest. When you were around William Beckett, Gabe Saporta and Ryland Blackington for significant periods of time, you needed to keep all the height you could get.

Thankfully, he'd managed to keep most of his memory, even if his body and his mind kept on giving him conflicting messages. Some of his friends — well. Nate was grateful.

The hallways were in chaos, full of people who had kept their memories leading around people who had lost their memories and attempting to explain all the recent changes in the decor. The piles of rubble, for example. And even the people with their memories intact were tripping over their own feet, unused to suddenly being awkward, gawky teenagers again after being years past the worst of their growth spurts.

Nate was in the middle of dodging a flailing elbow when he saw Gerard. "Gerard!" he said, waving, before wondering if that was a good idea. Gerard looked... hunted.

(He was too distracted to avoid the elbow, which hit him in the stomach before the student attached to it drifted past, complaining, "I have acne again!")

Who: Nate and William
When: Thursday around dinnertime, November 19th
Where: The indoor statuary garden
What: A magical mishap

One of the unfortunate things about having trasgus in residence, William was quickly learning, was constantly having things disappear and show up later in unusual places. This morning he'd discovered two of the sculptures from the indoor statuary garden, a chimera and a merman, flanking the doors to the library. They made intimidating guards, but took up rather more room than the corridor allowed, which meant students had been squeezing in between stone fishtails and giant paws all day to reach literary sanctuary.

He was returning them now to their plinths, attempting to remember which had gone where and in what direction they had faced. There were a few students around, but none he particularly cared to make inquiries of. The visitors today appeared to be a courting couple of older seventh-years, a lone Ravenclaw sprawled out at the base of a wrought stone ogre, sketching various anatomical studies, and a trio of younger Slytherin girls, possibly second-years, one of them nearly in tears over her broken wand. From the snatches he'd caught of the conversation while levitating the merman back onto what was hopefully his rightful pedestal, William gathered it had been damaged in an accident and was currently being held together with Spell-O-Tape.

"Eet haz been een my family for generations!" the distraught girl wailed to her consoling pair of friends. "Eet haz my great-great-great-great-grandmere's hair at zee core!"

[in response to this]

Mr. Novarro,

I must say I'm surprised to hear your report, considering how highly esteemed Botollinger is among scholarly witches and wizards of a certain generation. In fact, of the many texts in which he is referenced, I can't remember even one of them ever calling him anything like an obtuse windbag of epic proportions filled with arrogant pomposity.

I'll take your suggestion for a new subsection of the library under consideration, although my concern is that once the students find out such a thing exists and clamour to vote for their own selections, it will expand until there is nothing left on any other shelf and the stacks crack under the weight.

I don't know how Auror Way fits into any of this, but I shall do my best to distract him with wild gesticulation and invented crises, should he appear to be heading in that direction.

Sincerely,
The Benevolent Dictator

Who: Nate and Mikey
When: Friday, Free 6th Period (Nov 6th)
Where: The Transfig Classroom
What: Breaking in the Teaching Assistant

Mikey tapped his wand against his side restlessly, eyeing a new piece of graffiti on the desk with great thought. To take the message 'TFG SUX' personally or not? More importantly, to cast a tracking charm on the ink next time he had his second years around or not?

A wave of his wand had the TFG slowly spreading out to spell DADA instead. Plus a few blotchy scratches for realism, of course. It was kind of perfect until he stood up straighter and realised he was trying to one-up his students by vandalising school property.

He sighed and spelled the message away completely. In his defence, it had been a long week. And one in which everyone and their sister seemed to be talking about Professor Smith and Mister Beckett and oh my god, have you been to the cupboard yet? I stood inside!! Or Professor Smith and Professor Wentz's duel and oh my god, what if one of them dies?!!?.

On the one hand, he was really rather amused by it all. On the other, almost disappointed that Novarro obviously hadn't spread the information he'd recently garnered. Not that Mikey wanted to be gossiped about exactly, but it was starting to get a little frustrating that nobody knew he was the one curling up with their resident Herbologist and not William.

Which didn't want thinking about, really. Not when the next person he was going to see was Nate himself, turning up to earnestly further his studies by helping out however Mikey deemed necessary. Mikey particularly liked that part. However he deemed necessary. Still, it wasn't Nate who was responsible for the cupboard incident and it wasn't like not spreading rumours was a crime, so the task of searching on the floor for dropped needles was probably out. For the meantime, anyway.

Who: Nate and Gerard
Where: the Great Hall
When: midway through lunch in late September (blast from the past!)
What: A mutually beneficial exchange of information (ie, Hogwarts is way better than any soap opera)

William looked fine, sure. He was lounging against the staff table and gesticulating wildly with half a sandwich -- probably Pete had started another debate on the Muggle Romantic poets, again. Either he never learned or he liked watching William flail. Probably the latter. Anyway, William was the picture of librarian health -- good color, indignant expression, decent coordination. Gerard sipped his coffee and leaned against the wall, frowning. Probably he was making a fuss over nothing -- the head nurse had pronounced William healed and released him from the hospital a few days ago -- but he'd seen the man get stabbed with what looked like a really fucking nasty cursed knife, and Gerard was damned well going to keep an eye on him until he was sure no surprise malevolent aftereffects were going to pop up.

In between surreptitiously watching over William, monitoring the student population for further signs of magical illness, and figuring out what the fuck Mikey was doing with all those puffskeins in his room, Gerard hadn't had a lot of time to keep up with his favorite romantic dramas and so was taken by surprise when Peaches the Heartless Siren threw a platter of potatoes at Oblivious McGryffindor. Gerard reared backwards, narrowly missing being splattered with starchy detritus. He only just managed to keep from sloshing his coffee over his shoes. 

"What the fuck!" Gerard said indignantly, glaring at the couple, who were clearly getting ready to launch into another epic shouting match over who forgot their fifth anniversary of their first detention for snogging in the broomshed, or whatever. Gerard'd thought they were still on their lovey-gooey-terrible-nickname stage, but clearly they'd somehow already bypassed that and were heading for another breakup. Fuck, if Gerard had realized that, he'd have picked a safer spot for lurking in.

Who: Mikey & Spencer & Nate
When: Friday Evening (back-dated) (30/10)
Where: Greenhouse Three
What: Hogsmeade

Mikey nudged open the Greenhouse door quietly, slipping inside and then shutting it gently behind him with a click. He'd never been more glad to see the back of a week in his life. Between restarting lessons, cleaning, cooking, repairing, and worrying about those in the Hospital Wing, he was a little tired.

It was a good kind of tired though. He felt pretty positive about all they'd managed to get done over the past few days. Meals were starting to come out with fewer and fewer accidents, the Entrance Hall wasn't looking quite so charred, and he hadn't stumbled across a forgotten bloodstain in hours.

It all added up to a bit of relaxation time in his mind. Where relaxation time meant an evening alone with the one person who seemed to be managing to avoid the worst of the castle chores.

He cleared his throat. "Hey."

Who: Everyone
When: Saturday night, Hallowe’en
Where: The armoury
What:

To all staff,

After curfew and following the Hallowe’en Feast, you are cordially invited to attend a holiday gathering in the armoury. Costumes are not optional, so if you find yourself somehow accidentally lacking one upon arrival, there will be plenty available you can borrow from the suits of armour, as they will be dressed for the occasion. Drinks, desserts, and every possible permutation of pumpkin dish will be served, and there will be a festive soundtrack of popular dance music from both wizarding and Muggle cultures to enjoy. Masquerade glamours are permitted in the spirit of the holiday, but please try not to unnecessarily alarm your colleagues. Castle ghosts are also invited to attend the festivities.

Sincerely,
Headmaster Schechter

[Unsent, partially scribbled over, tossed out, and then burned, just for good measure.]

Headmaster Schechter,

Somebody told me
I heard that, given all the recent insanity at Hogwarts,
I've heard that some of the professors need assistants. I'd like to apply; I'm not picky as to placement, and I really need something to do


[Sent]

Headmaster Schechter,

I've heard through various sources that some of the faculty are looking for 6th- 7th-year assistants. If this is still true, would it be possible for you to at least take me into consideration? I'd be willing to assist anyone. My academic record isn't outstanding, but I'm a fast learner.

If you would rather get someone else, I understand. Thanks for your time,

Nate Novarro

Who: Everyone!
When: Sunday, midnight
Where: Ground floor
What: The last stand

Anyone who looked out the windows toward the Forbidden Forest at midnight would have seen, curiously, flickers of torchlight moving out of the forest in a wide arc. If this held their attention, they'd have seen the lights coming closer until they eventually resolved themselves into flaming arrows nocked onto the bows of centaurs, driving the remaining horde of House-elves out of the forest.

With the portcullis still raised, the House-elves made for the shelter of the castle courtyard, flinging themselves against the doors to the entrance hall to batter them down. Some of the centaurs' arrows thunked into the doors rather than finding their smaller moving targets, and the flames quickly spread from the arrow shafts into the old, heavy wood of the doors.

The final battle for Hogwarts was about to begin.


(OOC: Treat this like a party post; join in whenever your character is ready and move between groups and locations as needed, link between threads to let us all know where you're going and coming from. The courtyard is surrounded by stone walls and overlooked by the towers and gatehouse. If the main doors are breached and the entrance hall is flooded with House-elves, the immediate threat will be to the Great Hall, the classrooms on the ground floor which have presumably been cleared, and the two staircases that lead to the rest of the castle - primarily to Hufflepuff and Slytherin.)