30 Jul 2019, 08:59
A Little Bit of Prophet
Reducio
Canonically September 2nd - first day of school year @Lark Flaer
Their first lesson wouldn’t begin until later that afternoon, and Lark had spotted a notice on the Ravenclaw Common Room bulletin board, regarding cleaning after the festivities of Summer Break. James had been a little reluctant at first, but the thought of spending a little more time with Lark sounded like it might be worth wading through whatever kind of garbage these wizard-types left behind.
He’d appreciated how fiercely she’d defended him at the Owlery when his thoughts on magic had been challenged. He looked at the quirky girl with silver hair and decided that wizards surely couldn’t be so bad if she was one.
He spotted a brown pile splattered out across the grass, and as he drew near to it the smell of it overwhelmed him. Gross! It was dung, like it had been strewn around by some kind of explosive. He slowly scooped some up, and placed it into his large black garbage bag, thanking the powers that be that he had been provided with cloves. I scooped a little onto the end of his finger and grinned wickedly.
“Hey Lark, come and smell this. It’s like the creamiest chocolate I’ve ever seen!”
They continued across the grounds, as their bags steadily filled. James actually enjoyed the prickly warmth of the Autumn sun, as the air in Scotland had been cool and biting in the Owlery that morning.
As he went, he picked up nearly thirty chocolate frog wrappers – unfortunately no cards to speak of several of the colourful packets of Burtie Bott’s Every Flavour beans, in fact one still had a very suspicious looking yellow bean in it that James dared Lark to eat.
He also managed to find a tin of beans – still full – and an empty Pringles can.
After about 20 minutes, James slumped down underneath the shade of a sturdy-looking Oak tree and stared out across the Great Lake. His life had changed so much over the past year. Learning he was a wizard. All but losing his best friend. And then, perhaps finding a new one.
He noticed, to his embarrassment that his eyes had filled with tears. He wasn’t usually one to cry, but the past few months had been a rollercoaster and his body didn’t know quite what else to do.
He stood up, trying to hide his face from Lark, and noticed an old copy of the Daily Prophet fluttering in the wind gently. He picked it up, eager to add it to his stash and fill his garbage bag to the brim, but the front page stopped him in his tracks. “Trial of the Century” – it was an article about Harry Potter.
“Look, there he is again, Lark… this Harry Potter guy.” James shifted uncomfortably thinking about his previous discussion with Logan about this “Dark Lord”. He’d been so wrapped up in the mechanics of these curses, he hadn’t thought about the man who’d dealt them out.
“Lark… this- this Dark Lord guy. What did he want to do? Why was he so- y’know – uh “dark”? What was his goal?”
Words: 512
Stamina : 5 | Evasion : 5 | Strength : 7 | Wisdom : 8 | Arcane Power : 7 | Accuracy : 3
30 Jul 2019, 18:31
A Little Bit of Prophet
Even if they were first years, Lark felt it would be good to chip in around the castle. She had noticed how frustrated the Professors and staff had been about all of the mess left outside. Having stayed this summer she too felt a bit responsible. Plus it would give her and James a chance to pal around and get more familiar with the grounds! Not to mention some welcomed fresh air after the stuffy and...rather smelly trip to the Owlery.
As she followed not too far behind James, she bent over constantly meticulously picking up bits of wrapper and even tiny scraps of paper. A couple gum wrappers, some sort of crumpled up scrap bit of parchment, two empty bottles and what appeared to have been a sandwich at some point in it's soggy existence.
“Hey Lark, come and smell this. It’s like the creamiest chocolate I’ve ever seen!”
Looking over towards James, she gave a once over in the grass around her finding it to be free of rubbish then wandered over towards her friend. Lugging her bag behind her she cautiously eyed the substance on his finger.
"It's probably some sort of melted chocolate frog with all this hea-" That's when the smell hit her nose. "MERLIN'S BEARD!" A gag let loose from her throat. Lark dropped her bag and slapped both gloved hands over her nose. The smell was atrocious. Ignoring his laughs she swatted at the boy giving in to the laughter herself.
They continued on with their chore getting as much as they could cleaned up. She was actually shocked at just how much there had been scattered about. A majority looked like it had been from a picnic, sitting under a tree with empty cups and napkins stuck to the roots. At some point James found a single bean leftover which Lark gave in and accepted the dare only to find it had been a who knew how many day old taste of lemon meringue.
The rubbish bag was getting pretty weighty by the minute. A large cardboard box, some more candy wrappers, a stale liquorice wand, a shoe with no mate, and some suspicious looking Weasley's Wizard Wheezes wrappings. She didnt dare guess what type of shenanigans had gone on.
Returning to James under a large tree, Lark tied off her bag and noticed he looked as if he had a great deal weighing on his mind. Had it been the Owlery? Or his letter making him think of home.. Not wanting to make it worse she stayed silent and took off her gloves to let her hands air out.
"Look, there he is again, Lark… this Harry Potter guy.” Shifting her weight to one hip she stood and faced her brown haired friend. He asked further about the goal of Vol-... shivers streaked up her spine. Taking a breath she sat down under the tree and wiped a bit of sweat from her brow, readjusting her hair that had been matted to the back of her neck.
"My parents wouldn't ever tell me the whole thing.. said I'm still ta young but from what I know he just wanted power. He and his followers killed so many.. magical folk and of course it ended up effecting Muggles too." She didn't want a repeat of the Owlery but James deserved to know. He was a part of this world now and so were his parents.
"He believed in Purebloods being the better race and tried ta wipe out anyone else, especially... well." Lark met his brown eyes. "Muggle born." She felt shame wash over her. Even if her family had not sided with Voldemort, it still made her feel awful. "I spose he had always been angry Pa said... as a boy he had a lot of pain but he also caused a lot. It wasn't just him being in Slytherin, he had something deep in him that my Mum said just took hold and never let go. Consumed him."
She went on to explain the Wizarding Wars. Leading off of what Logan had already divulged about Harry. The battle at Hogwarts and how Dumbledore had been killed. Describing all she knew about Death Eaters and how for years the Ministry ignored all the signs, their hesitation meaning a lot of people died that didn't have to. How they even vilified Harry, Dumbledore and others who had just been trying to help. Even explained her own family hiding other half-blood families and Muggle borns. Her grandfather's death when he refused the Dark Lord's grip on the Flaer name. Her eyes returned to James as she trailed off and let everything sink in. Most of it seemed so surreal to the peaceful times they had now. She looked at the old Daily Prophet James held and put a hand gently on his.
"It wont happen again. He's gone and..." She wanted to promise nothing else awful would come along but knew she couldn't. The wizarding world always had some possibility of tension blowing up. Instead all she could manage was a warm smile.
WC: 822
Stam: 4 - Ev: 6 - Str: 3 - Wis: 5 - AP: 7 - Acc: 5
In friendships we are searching for a soulmate, someone who shares every facet of their passions and imagination.
31 Jul 2019, 06:41
A Little Bit of Prophet
James listened intently as Lark explained. His stomach dropping at the mention of Muggles. He thought about his mum and dad, wondering how close they might have been to meeting a grizzly end because of a misfired killing curse.
And they would have never known, he thought. They would have died alone and confused. He could barely imagine how frightening it must have been for those muggles who were killed by something they didn’t understand.
He felt a wave of fury rise up in him. It was the Ministry of Magic. They sounded corrupt and they had barely any oversight. And they elected to keep this stuff secret from people who deserved to know. Who NEEDED to know.
He stood up and took a breath. It was all a lot to process in one day, and it was not worth getting angry about until he knew all of the facts.
But he was sure of one thing… he did not like the Ministry of Magic.
James turned to Lark and gave her one of those lopsided smiles that had become a staple of his over the past few days.
“I’m sorry about your Grandfather,” he said softly, “he sounded really brave.”
James crumpled up the copy of the Daily Prophet and shoved it into his garbage bag. He noticed a gaggle of plastic bottles bobbing gently on in the shallows of the Great Lake and started his way toward them.
He decided to move the conversation towards a less sour topic for the pair.
“So what’s your read on Professor Lear?” he said, as he fished a sprite bottle filled with murky lake-water from the mud, “I mean, the suit of armour and everything. It’s that a regular get up for a wizard or is he kind of mad?”
He noticed a particularly arm-shaped branch on the ground, a long thin brown stick with several forks that curled off at the ends.
I squatted down, trying not to get mud all over his robes and did his best to start fishing for bottles that had started floating deeper into the lake.
One of them said Bunson Bobbles Reverse Bubble Drink, and he wondered whether that meant the bubbles went down or they were somehow little spheres of liquid surrounded by air.
Another bottle was simply adorned with a sticker that said “Fireworks Squash”. It still had a little left in the bottom and as he poured a little on the ground and just as it made contact with the muddy
bank of the lake it exploded in flashes of iridescent light making a colossal “BANG” as it did.
“Shit!” James yelled in fright, falling backwards and landing directly into the murky waters of the lake.
James spluttered as the cold water rushed over him and began to soak into his robes.
He stood up and stood in the shallow of the lake, staring at Lark, soaked from head to toe.
He began to laugh. “How do I look?” he said, wiping some of the mud from his face.
And they would have never known, he thought. They would have died alone and confused. He could barely imagine how frightening it must have been for those muggles who were killed by something they didn’t understand.
He felt a wave of fury rise up in him. It was the Ministry of Magic. They sounded corrupt and they had barely any oversight. And they elected to keep this stuff secret from people who deserved to know. Who NEEDED to know.
He stood up and took a breath. It was all a lot to process in one day, and it was not worth getting angry about until he knew all of the facts.
But he was sure of one thing… he did not like the Ministry of Magic.
James turned to Lark and gave her one of those lopsided smiles that had become a staple of his over the past few days.
“I’m sorry about your Grandfather,” he said softly, “he sounded really brave.”
James crumpled up the copy of the Daily Prophet and shoved it into his garbage bag. He noticed a gaggle of plastic bottles bobbing gently on in the shallows of the Great Lake and started his way toward them.
He decided to move the conversation towards a less sour topic for the pair.
“So what’s your read on Professor Lear?” he said, as he fished a sprite bottle filled with murky lake-water from the mud, “I mean, the suit of armour and everything. It’s that a regular get up for a wizard or is he kind of mad?”
He noticed a particularly arm-shaped branch on the ground, a long thin brown stick with several forks that curled off at the ends.
I squatted down, trying not to get mud all over his robes and did his best to start fishing for bottles that had started floating deeper into the lake.
One of them said Bunson Bobbles Reverse Bubble Drink, and he wondered whether that meant the bubbles went down or they were somehow little spheres of liquid surrounded by air.
Another bottle was simply adorned with a sticker that said “Fireworks Squash”. It still had a little left in the bottom and as he poured a little on the ground and just as it made contact with the muddy
bank of the lake it exploded in flashes of iridescent light making a colossal “BANG” as it did.
“Shit!” James yelled in fright, falling backwards and landing directly into the murky waters of the lake.
James spluttered as the cold water rushed over him and began to soak into his robes.
He stood up and stood in the shallow of the lake, staring at Lark, soaked from head to toe.
He began to laugh. “How do I look?” he said, wiping some of the mud from his face.
Reducio
Words: 508
Reducio
@Lark Flaer
Stamina : 5 | Evasion : 5 | Strength : 7 | Wisdom : 8 | Arcane Power : 7 | Accuracy : 3
31 Jul 2019, 17:59
A Little Bit of Prophet
Lark waited for James to mull the information over as she rummaged through her bag of trash separating some of the bottles to be recycled into a spare bag she had brought along.
"I’m sorry about your Grandfather..."
Lark gave a nod in appreciation. She had never been able to meet the man but had constantly heard stories about him. Eoin had recalled the time he met her mother and for years how Grandpa had warned them they would have a daughter. Buying all sorts of trinkets and things in preparation.. Had even left her his journal that had plenty of his own notes and scribblings in it. Gran had kept it safely stashed for her until the day she received her Hogwarts letter.
Standing up Lark finished sorting through her bag and brushed the dirt from her knees. They had been out here for what seemed like forever and yet still saw more bits of rubbish to collect. At least the grounds round the lake looked better.
"So what’s your read on Professor Lear?” James' question was pretty fair. She had wondered herself. He looked so mystical in all his armor and wizened eyes.
Placing her gloves back on she gave a laugh l. "Well l guess most Wizards have a funny wardrobe. He is interesting isn't he?" Bending down she tossed another used plate into the bag of non-recyclables. Adjusting her grip on both bags trying to be careful not to drag them and create a hole she leapt at the sound of a loud bang dropping them both to the ground.
"What in the-" Eyes wide, she faced her brown haired friend. He was soaked and dirty and... trying to fight back a laugh Lark snorted. What a sight. Muddy, drenched and that grin still plastered on his face.
"Brown really is your color." Giving in she let out of roar of laughter clutching her side.
"I can't breathe." Wheezing in between gasps and laughing. "Gosh, oh my gosh!" Her cheeks hurt as she finally breathed her way down from the giggling.
Walking over to him she inspected his face. "Wait hold it!" She said very slowly and held her left hand up. Bending down she felt around in the water for a moment.
"You just have a little something-"
In one swift motion Lark stood up quickly and slathered two handfuls of mud into the boys hair standing it on end before laughing wildly and taking off at full sprint towards the castle, snatching both bags as she raced away to turn them and the gloves in then wash up before classes.
WC : 423
End of Errand, will turn in bags etc at the castle!
Stam: 4 - Ev: 6 - Str: 3 - Wis: 5 - AP: 7 - Acc: 5
In friendships we are searching for a soulmate, someone who shares every facet of their passions and imagination.