5 Apr 2020, 19:59
“Why Must Owls Deliver Publicly?”
It was time for the daily owl delivery in the Great Hall and many students were in attendance. Excited clamor echoed through the enormous chamber as dozens of students recounted their most recent exploits, awaited care packages or messages, or otherwise enjoyed the opportunity to sit next to their friends. The Great Hall posed a challenge to those shy students who disliked being around so many people at once or simply feared the extremely public nature of gathering there en masse.
Aida was an extremely new arrival at Hogwarts and she had no friends to sit with, so she parked herself at the very end of the Ravenclaw table by default. The ruckus inside the Great Hall was unlike anything she had experienced earlier in her life, and knowing no one likely to send her a letter, she attended the daily owl delivery mostly to hear what kinds of conversations other people were having. Thus it came as a great surprise when a pitch black owl with long, fluffy tufts over its eyes swooped down in front of Aida and dropped a battered piece of parchment squarely in her hands. The zoologically-inclined in the hall might have recognized the bird as a rare dark morph of the Eurasian eagle-owl from its trademark orange eyes and eclipsingly large wingspan. Anyone from the Owlery would know immediately it was not one of the birds in residence, and it left as quickly as it had arrived.
The paper Aida received was crumpled and slightly torn, burned on one edge, and lacking an envelope. It readily fell open in Aida’s hands, looking as if it were about to disintegrate. Pawing some wild white hair behind her ear, Aida began to read the letter while her lips parted in fear. A distinct sense of darkness emanated from her corner and conversations nearby grew quiet as several people began to look at the strange pale girl. After Aida’s light violet eyes had stopped darting about the page they stared transfixed for a moment – and suddenly the girl was toppling over, fainting over the tabletop. Aida’s grip on the paper opened and it skittered slightly across the floor.
Anyone intrepid enough to pick up the paper read,
Aida was an extremely new arrival at Hogwarts and she had no friends to sit with, so she parked herself at the very end of the Ravenclaw table by default. The ruckus inside the Great Hall was unlike anything she had experienced earlier in her life, and knowing no one likely to send her a letter, she attended the daily owl delivery mostly to hear what kinds of conversations other people were having. Thus it came as a great surprise when a pitch black owl with long, fluffy tufts over its eyes swooped down in front of Aida and dropped a battered piece of parchment squarely in her hands. The zoologically-inclined in the hall might have recognized the bird as a rare dark morph of the Eurasian eagle-owl from its trademark orange eyes and eclipsingly large wingspan. Anyone from the Owlery would know immediately it was not one of the birds in residence, and it left as quickly as it had arrived.
The paper Aida received was crumpled and slightly torn, burned on one edge, and lacking an envelope. It readily fell open in Aida’s hands, looking as if it were about to disintegrate. Pawing some wild white hair behind her ear, Aida began to read the letter while her lips parted in fear. A distinct sense of darkness emanated from her corner and conversations nearby grew quiet as several people began to look at the strange pale girl. After Aida’s light violet eyes had stopped darting about the page they stared transfixed for a moment – and suddenly the girl was toppling over, fainting over the tabletop. Aida’s grip on the paper opened and it skittered slightly across the floor.
Anyone intrepid enough to pick up the paper read,
“My dearest Aida,
I have asked a family friend to deliver this letter to you after your eleventh birthday in the event that I am unable to. I hope that it will find you in Hogwarts, as it was always our wish that you be well-educated. There really are no words good enough to write to you now that it has come to this. I suspect that any future attempts at correspondence from me will be censored by the Ministry, so it hurts that during this likely final letter I struggle to find adequate words. I guess I am trying to earn your forgiveness although nothing I can do now will make me deserve it.
If you are receiving this message, it means that I have failed to recover your mother, Jennifer. I want you to know that this does not mean we don’t love you. On the contrary, we did these things only because we love you so much. I only wanted us to be a happy family together. If I can only teach you one thing as my final act as your father, it is that you must learn to recognize when your reach exceeds your grasp.
All my love,
Your father Ronan”
Last edited by Aida Mòrsgor-Ama Ellwood on 9 Apr 2020, 19:55, edited 1 time in total.
6 Apr 2020, 16:38
“Why Must Owls Deliver Publicly?”
Although she sat alone, Lydia was entertained enough with the snack she had packed in, the transfiguration homework she was rushing to get done, and the familiar presence of her mother's owl.
"I'll take it now, I'll take it now..." she mumbled to the bird who was now cooing at her, visibly irritated. The Ravenclaw brushed her cheek with her quill as she thought, but nothing came to her - she really was not inspired enough to complete this homework. She finished off her essay with a lazy conclusion and slammed down her quill contentedly.
Her attention back to the owl, much to his delight. "Come on now, Bogbean, what've you got for me then?" Lydia gave the little tawny owl a smile as she took the little scroll. She scratched its already dishevelled head as she read. Not much news; her father's lectures had been cancelled due to some virus, and her mother was very excited about a "new mundane plant that would be absolutely perfect for a hair growing potion".
Hughes had just dismissed little Bogbean when she heard a thud, not too far from her. Her head whipped around as she jumped in her seat. It took the first year a few moments before she fully processed what she saw: one of her housemates had... fainted?
"Shit, shit, shit, shit..." Lydia mumbled under her breath as she rushed to get out of her bench and hurry around the table to the Ravenclaw's side. What had happened? How were you supposed to wake her up? Should you even wake her up? Was she ok?
She was slightly stunned as she stood next to the girl, and all that she could really think to do was bend down to hear if she was breathing. She was. That's good.
Frantically looking around, she noticed the letter that had fallen out of the girl's hand, but quickly shifted her eyes before she got too tempted to read it. The little Lydia had seen all sounded good - something along the lines of "happy family together" - but the horrible appearance of the parchment did pique her interest.
No time for that, she told herself sternly. No time for that. Get help.
Not knowing what to do with her hands, Lydia took one more look at the poor girl before calling down the Ravenclaw table: "A little help, anyone?? I think she's... passed out. Any first aid people? Or, I don't know, healers...? We need to get her to the Hospital Wing, something's happened..."
but to feel nothing as to not feel anything - what a waste
stamina 7 | evasion 6 | strength 5 | wisdom 6 | arcane power 4 | accuracy 7
6 Apr 2020, 18:35
“Why Must Owls Deliver Publicly?”
The mail delivery had returned to being somewhat rudimentary. After all, you can only receive a truly epic broom once in your school career, or certainly in first year anyway. So whenever Darby swung into the Great Hall, she was usually carrying letters from Ruthie's mother, who hung close to her regiment of regular owls. It still seemed unfair and a bit silly to the blonde girl, but it was just a mother's instinct: when your child nearly dies, you want to ensure they are still breathing. As such, Clare's letters were much more about how Ruthie should keep herself safe than about any goings-on at home. Still, she opened each one, curious to see if anything much of anything had happened in their sleepy fishing village. It hadn't.
Returning the most recent letter from home back in its envelope, she reached into her nearby satchel to pull out a notebook. She had a Potions essay due in a few days, and while it was one of her better subjects, she had found herself procrastinating of late. She'd had trouble concentrating virtually the entire year since the events of the ballroom, but she'd been doing better. This recent relapse could only be attributed to that ridiculously short match against Hufflepuff. The badgers had snatched the snitch well before she'd gotten anything to do with the quaffle. She'd have to train harder, faster, stronger this summer, and she'd be sure to speak to Emma bout it before the term went out.
But, regretfully, sports were not the only part of Hogwarts. Instead, academics were important too. Cracking open her notebook, she thought back to her last Potions class. It was always one she enjoyed; so much so that she brewed that wonderful quality forgetfulness potion Shauna accidentally drank. Shauna. Ruthie felt a pit in her stomach start to grow. There wasn't a day that didn't go by where she didn't miss her friend and feel guilt for her absence. It wasn't worth being good at Potions if she didn't pay attention enough to prevent a catastrophe.
Taking in a deep breath, she resolved to focus. Her eyes tracked the messy script that ran across the lined paper. When she heard a call from down the Ravenclaw table--a call for help. Turning her head in the direction of the noise, she could spot a young student about her age as the source of the panic. Flipping closed her notebook, she shoved it inside her satchel, now swung across her shoulder, and jolted down towards the girl.
"What happened?" Ruthie said, as she arrived, trying to size up the scene. Another girl, also young with white hair, had collapsed on the table. No, no, this was not happening again. This time, Ruthie would be helpful if it killed her. Her eyes darted around as she struggled to know what to do first. She'd seen accidents at the harbor of course, but there was a cut, a wound, a reason. "Yeah, the hospital wing," she agreed, looking up at the ginger girl, "Come on, you grab one shoulder and I'll take the other." Ruthie wasn't the strongest, but she wasn't weak either. They'd make it together.
As she took ahold of the fallen girl's arm to lift her up, she noticed a brunt, fragile looking piece of paper. Seeing how the owls had just come through, it might have been a delivery--a dark delivery. Having seen the giant break-in this fall (not to mention getting her marks up in Defense Against the Darts Arts), Ru had become a bit more suspicious of the magical world. "And don't touch that," she added to her new companion. Maybe she was blowing it out of proportion--maybe the girl would simply wake on her own. But Ruthie had had too many bad experiences in her first year to take that chance.
Interacting with @Aida Mòrsgor-Ama Ellwood & @Lydia Hughes | NB: I am currently replying slowly because I have too many threads. I'm sorry; I couldn't resist.
Ruth Iona Greer
Stamina: 6 | Evasion: 4 | Strength: 5 | Wisdom: 9 | Arcane Power: 6 | Accuracy: 6 | Ability: Sixth Sense
Frog Choir President | Ravenclaw Chaser
6 Apr 2020, 19:38
“Why Must Owls Deliver Publicly?”
Ruthie and Lydia were successful at picking Aida up off the table. Chatter began to swell around them and whispers of "curse" and "dark arts" followed them as the three Ravenclaws started walking towards the hospital.
The passages leading out of the Great Hall towards the hospital wing seemed uncharacteristically dim today. As the students moved, the talking paintings lining the walls began to gasp or make unhelpful comments such as "Well, that doesn't look good."
Aida's body was remarkably heavy for her size. While you couldn't normally tell from looking at her form under billowing cloak and tunic, the pale girl was actually quite muscular and very, very lean. While they were moving her body to the hospital, Aida's sleeves got pushed up, revealing parts of her arms that had not previously been visible. It appeared that a large number of variably shaped scars covered her body. Two particularly strange marks appeared to be circular burns around her wrists while others may have been bite marks, cuts, or were unidentifiable. What could be the story behind such unusual features on a little girl? With her eyes closed, Aida's white eyelashes stuck out more than usual. Everything about her was just so white.
The passages leading out of the Great Hall towards the hospital wing seemed uncharacteristically dim today. As the students moved, the talking paintings lining the walls began to gasp or make unhelpful comments such as "Well, that doesn't look good."
Aida's body was remarkably heavy for her size. While you couldn't normally tell from looking at her form under billowing cloak and tunic, the pale girl was actually quite muscular and very, very lean. While they were moving her body to the hospital, Aida's sleeves got pushed up, revealing parts of her arms that had not previously been visible. It appeared that a large number of variably shaped scars covered her body. Two particularly strange marks appeared to be circular burns around her wrists while others may have been bite marks, cuts, or were unidentifiable. What could be the story behind such unusual features on a little girl? With her eyes closed, Aida's white eyelashes stuck out more than usual. Everything about her was just so white.
This thread has been moved to the Hospital Wing (LINK). This thread is now closed. Ambulance chasers may enter the hospital thread freely. It is assumed that Aida reclaimed the letter after recovering.