Rooms

Who: Helena W
What: Where is a little bat hiding
Where: Harry Potter
When: Currentish
Warnings/Rating: General screwyness, Hels still being jacked

( Memories )

Who: Neville Longbottom and YOU (Seriously, open to anyone through the HP door!)
Where: Halls of Hogwarts, between classes
When: Shortly after lunch time, Friday
What: Neville contemplates how everything's changed recently
Status: Incomplete/Threaded/OPEN
Warnings: Ummm....mentions of Voldemort?????

( Everything really had changed, hadn't it? )

Who: Wren and Evie
What: We're off to see the wizard(s)
Where: Hogsmeade
When: Nowish
Warnings/Rating: I solemnly swear this log is up to no good.

Wren thought she was possibly the only maman of a school-aged child who hadn't read the Harry Potter books. She knew a tiny bit about them, but not much. She didn't really like reading, and she didn't like television, and she couldn't remember the last time she'd gone to a movie. Her knowledge was the kind of passing thing that came from just being alive in society, because there were references to the books all over. But she didn't know them, and she was kind of trusting Evie to know how things in this door they were visiting worked.

She was dressed in yellow. The sundress was pale, and the shawl she had over her shoulders was French and old, pale blues and yellows, its fringes marking it as a piano shawl. She was newly blonde, and she was ready to see Evie's ears, because she figured that meant the other woman had cut her hair off. Evie hadn't touched her hair in the whole, whole time Wren had known her, and she wondered why her friend had done it.

The wizarding door was easy to find. She'd passed it a bunch of times, and she stood in front of it, hand on the knob as she waited for Evie to arrive. She got a little impatient, and she turned the handle. For a second, the inside flickered and looked like perfectly normal London. Then, she stepped a foot inside, and the door reconsidered. The scenery changed, and she was completely unaware that the magic (Loki's magic) made the door think wizard and not muggle. She just stared at the village, her mouth a little bit open, and she thought maybe she needed something new to wear.

[Remus wondered if there was a point where being here would stop being strange. Different time, different faces, and his name meant something. Not just oh that bloke that follows around Sirius Black and James Potter. Luckily they seemed to know an older version, so his face didn't exactly stand out. Occasionally he got awkward questions, but on the whole he kept to his friends and skirted around the edges. He was always a little wary of questions about his werewolf side. Things were a little better after the initial pain of knowing he missed his chance to get close with Teddy. Perhaps it was for the best. Wouldn't it hurt more, losing him that fast then? Were people supposed to know their futures?

Those were the thoughts twirling in his head in the afternoon. He was sitting in the library in a quieter section, because even in a few decades there was so much more the Wizarding community learned. Remus wanted to keep ahead of the schoolwork instead of drowning in it. Which would be useful if he was actually doing any studying right then. No, instead he was fiddling around in the special journal he got from this 'hotel' nonsense. It was strange reading so many things that made very little sense to him. He liked it, in the sense that new things made him curious, but he was cautious too. At the moment he was sketching and not really using it any other way. It was a stolen quiet moment for the shy Marauder.]

[Following this, Ginny, true to her word, is sitting in the courtyard. Her back is against one of the stone walls, legs outstretched. A school book--not Potions, thank you--lays open on her lap. It was a free period for her, so why wouldn't she take the opportunity to do homework while waiting?

A part of her wondered why she was doing this, but a stronger part of her was wondering if anyone else had bothered doing this. There was plenty of reason not to like Snape. There were plenty of reasons to give him the benefit of the doubt, especially young. Plus, she couldn't quite justify being rude to him when he could have very well been the main reason that the students who opposed the Dark Lord managed to live at Hogwarts her sixth year.

The hand that was not on the book was clutching the candy protectively against those who might try to charm it away. Sorry, hungry looking third year. She knows.]

[A half hour after this and this.]

[He'd opted for no tie. Yes, he'd mentioned wearing his most official of robes, but, as this was branded as a clandestine meeting of the Heads, he thought perhaps he best look inconspicuous. The black drape of nice robes over his shoulders, fitted well over a t-shirt and slacks, James Potter descended the well-worn staircases, even as they slotted in and out of their jigsaw arrangements, to the Kitchens. He idly wished he had the Map with him, just so he might entertain himself if Evans was late (she wouldn't be), but he'd memorized Hogwarts and its channels, passageways, and other secrets long before. He didn't need any guidance to the large, piping room near the Hufflepuff Common Room.

Inside, after he'd duly tickled the pear, he cast a glance around the space—but, seeing only the industrious bobbing of heads that came up to his knee, he understood that some stroke of chance had him more punctual than the notoriously on-time Lily Evans. He grinned, quite pleased with himself, and set about talking to one of the tiny chefs, asking after pastries and a goblet of pumpkin juice.

If nothing else, it would be good for spitting out if Harry slipped with the Cloak. Such a display would surely cement his innocence in the shining green eyes of Evans.]

Who: Severus Snape
What: A narrative
Where: School grounds
When: Recently
Warnings/Rating: None to speak of.

( Read more... )

[Delivery: Harry P.]

[Left on his bed are a handful of Chocolate Frog packages. A piece of paper is on top of them that just has a smiley face and a G.]

[Quicklog: James P./Ginny W.]

[Ginny had really been kidding about the whole "special privileges" thing. Mainly, she had said it to get a rise out of everyone. Hopefully, James understood that--but she planned to explain it either way.

Some of the Honeydukes candies she had bought with Neville were tossed onto the table beside her as she flopped into an arm chair, sitting sideways in it with legs dangling over one of its arms. Idly, she shuffles through a pack of Exploding Snap cards while she waits.]

Who: Sirius and James
Where: The Gryffindor Boys Dorm
What: Sirius is having a sulk - what else is new?
When: After this
Warnings: Sirius' mouth. As per usual.

( Quicklog things are under this cut. Do not proceed if you do not want to read quicklog things. )

[True to her word, in an hour, Ginny had arrived at Hogsmeade. Desperate to get away from the unnatural quiet of the castle--and the inevitable fact it was unfair she had to go back to school after she already took N.E.W.T. tests--it was a welcome reprieve to meet her old friend and housemate. Had it been anyone else but Neville, she'd have taken pause about meeting a male friend at his apartment.

But it was Neville, whom she was convinced didn't possess an ignoble bone in his body. It was safe.

Approaching his apartment, Ginny wasted no time in knocking. While she waited, she crossed her arms and leaned one against the door frame casually. Without thinking of pesky things like "neighbors," she called out:] I hope you're hungry, because I'm planning on getting all the non-school food I can. [She grinned.]

Who: Harry Potter & James Potter
What: meeting for the first time
Where: Gryffindor Tower
When: BACKDATED; right around when Harry appeared
Warnings/Rating: some feels

( Harry smiled vaguely when he saw the way James' hair flopped over his forehead. It was nice having somebody to blame for that. )

Who: Sirius and Remus
What: Bros being bros in the South of France
Where: A beach near Cannes, but not too near.
When: Recently
Warnings: Lots of swearing because Sirius. And also probably drinking. And general juvenile delinquency.

( It was a dark and stormy night )

Who: Lily Evans & Severus Snape
What: Talking.
Where: Slytherin dungeons.
When: Now.
Warnings: Nah.

[Descend a staircase and pass through the corridor, through the damp smell of stone and the metallic chill that pervaded any underground dungeon that was worth its spooky lore. It was the middle of summer, and Lily wore sleeves. She'd never had much of a purpose in coming down to the Slytherin Common Room, although it seemed silly to avoid it now since this year's Head Girl business was bound to include all of the castle. She'd never ventured into the other common rooms(it seemed rather invasive didn't it?), and she had no intention of starting now, with the snake den. Rather, she would only stand in the corridor, and she would speak the words that she carefully recited on her way down the dungeon stairs. Words that were meticulously written on parchment earlier, words that were x'd out in frustration and began anew with determination. Lily would speak words that were polite, but dignified. She would give instructions to Severus for while she was away, and it would be an extension of kindness to the rival house -- something that would certainly be expected of a Head Girl.

Just because Severus was prejudiced and rude, that didn't mean that Lily should lapse on her responsibilities. Truly heavy is the head that wears the crown.

Lily came a stop before the Slytherin common room door, and she straightened the cuffs of her sleeves before knocking three times. She would talk to Sev like he was any fellow student, and not like he was a friend who'd cruelly betrayed her.]

Who: Hogwarts students [open!]
What: party for the Savior of the Wizarding World and a bloke named Neville
Where: Prefects' bath
When: sunset, nowish
Warnings/Rating: TBD

( Boys. Tsk. They didn't do much in the way of preparation or decoration. )

[Narrow, beautiful letters.]

Seventh year, at last.

Who: Severus Snape
What: Narrative
Where: Hogwarts grounds
When: Recently
Warnings/Rating: None

( It was all different yet the same. )

[After this.]

[Lavender. The spigot spewed it, lilac, lolling, bubbles bowing, the air rich with it and heavy with wetness. James floated in the miniature sky on his back, backstroking in a swath through white. His glasses were removed, set aside on the lip of the large stone tub, sunken into the tiles of the floor, shining as they were like the scales of a mermaid's tail. Not a real mermaid, mind. But the sort that lounged in sugar-dyed glass nearby, giggling and splashing about most enticingly in stained waves. Scaly blues, aquatic greens inlaid in the ancient room. It reminded the young man in the bubbles of a Turkish bath, and he closed his eyes.

He enjoyed the suspension of weight.

It was similar to flying, he thought. The weightlessness.

But that thought was overshadowed by the toss of journal and quill, by the prick of tears as he considered the harsh truth of mortality. His parents were dead. He wouldn't see them again, whatever Sirius said, and how was he supposed to cope with that? There would be no funeral, no procession or remembrance. They were gone, long gone, as he himself supposedly was. Perhaps he—or some version of him—knew them, in the Great Beyond. Perhaps they were together.

He breathed out his nose.

Tightness curled in his chest, around his heart.

There had been no progress made in dressing himself. James was having a bath, and Sirius' presence didn't change that. He'd bathed in the room before, as it was open to Quidditch captains, and he'd learned long ago to not care much about his own nudity (unless Evans was around). Sirius would simply have to deal with it.]

[Locked to Teddy L]
Will you accompany me somewhere?

Who: Vic and her mum
What: Meeting
Where: Hogsmeade
When: Nowish
Warnings/Rating: Zis will be 'armless!

She was rather entirely ready to go round the bend. Hogwarts was nearly empty, and there was no one at all in the Slytherin common room. Even Teddy hadn't made a peep since the meeting with the undead at Madam Puddifoot's; she expected him to profess his love once or twice, or even to try for a grope, but it wasn't surprising, all things considered. She wondered if he was sitting in the Hufflepuff common room, hair some sallow shade of misery, and she couldn't stand any of it.

It could be said that they'd grown tall on the bones of the dead, but they'd never thought of them as people. They were stories, the Marauders and all the others who died so they might live. On 2 May, they'd stopped being people, and she wasn't sure what do now that they'd become more than tales.

She missed her family. Even her overprotective dad, and she missed Shell Cottage and the water lapping at her toes. There had been no pretense there, no need to pretend. Snake or lion or Veela, it hadn't mattered among the muggles.

But that was entirely enough of that. Snakes did not mope, and nor would she. She slipped into a muggle dress, purple and without sleeves, and her black boots came to the knee. Hogsmeade, and somewhere for a butterbeer and some conversation of a decent sort, as there wasn't any to be had where she was.

Exactly what rules do I have to follow when I'm forcibly removed from my time period and thrust into a world where I have met an untimely demise and am forced to spend summer holidays at school. I'll need a list.

[Marauders]

If I don't get an answer in 13 minutes exactly we are blowing this place. Guess what I found.