Free Fact Booth
There were two things that Jeremy was looking forward to about camp.
Number one, to get to experience what it was like to be a part of the Department of Mysteries, of course.
But Number two...a month of face-time with the Hogwarts students. A month to prove that he was different. A month to show that he didn't belong where the rest of his family did. He loved them, and he was sure Slytherin house was just fine. But Ravenclaw was the house for him. He just knew it.
Now all he had to do was prove it to everybody else.
He had already tried introducing himself to individual students, but it was just too slow. He really didn't know which ones had the most sway with the sorting hat. He needed a much larger campaign, if he wanted the news to get back to school.
The idea had came to him in a flash. Ravenclaw was the house for the smart, for the clever. All he needed to do was prove to as many people as possible how smart and clever he really was. Would it help? Maybe not. Would it hurt? Definitely not.
So the boy had lugged over a spare table that it seemed like nobody was using. On it, he'd placed a number of quills, ripped parchments, and, the cherry on top, some cups of hot coffee that he'd brought over diligently from breakfast. Jeremy had sipped his Dad's coffee once and thought it was one of the worst things he'd ever tasted, but his sister and her friends had always gone crazy for it, and they went to Hogwarts, so maybe it was popular there. He hoped they would go fast, because he couldn't do magic yet, and couldn't really do anything to keep them warm.
On the table was also a sign:
"FREE FACTS! AND COFFEE!"
The 'Get Jeremy Into Ravenclaw' campaign had begun.
"Facts! Get your facts here!" the boy yelled out, taking a seat. He really didn't love talking to a crowd, but you had to do what you had to do. It would be well worth it if one student walked away thinking that they could put in a good word for him, with the headmaster, with the sorting hat, or with Rowena Ravenclaw's ghost, if Jer could be so lucky.
He'd heard his father say that if you're not paying for the product, then you were the product. He hoped that nobody else had dads that needed to schmooze people for a living.
Jeremy has set up a fact booth. Write down something on a piece of parchment and Jeremy will tell you a fact about it. The facts may or may not be accurate. One fact, and one cup of coffee per person. No redos.
(Any interactions welcome, no need to get a fact. Also, no need to go one at a time - all posts welcomed at any time)
Last edited by Jeremy Slater on 12 Aug 2026, 17:55, edited 1 time in total.
Free Fact Booth
Even if Jo hadn't recognised Jeremy's voice, she probably would've been willing to bet that the idea of a free fact booth had him behind it. He was just that kind of nerd.
Now, Jo didn't really need facts--she was perfectly capable of sourcing her own facts by going to the library or finding an expert on a topic--but she was curious to see if anyone had taken up Jeremy on his offer, and she wanted some of that coffee that Jeremy was advertising. Coffee was just one of those grown up things that protagonists in books were always subsisting on, which meant that if Jo wanted to be a spy or auror or anything cool at all that required lots of work over long nights, she probably needed to get used to it.
"I do be needing this," she announced as she approached the booth, and snatched one of the cups before Jeremy had a chance to retort. She took a careful sip as she glanced around his setup, and grimaced. If only coffee wasn't so gross... But she was determined. Fake it until you make it, as granda liked to say.
"What happens if you don't know a fact about the thing they ask about? Do they get something?"
Now, Jo didn't really need facts--she was perfectly capable of sourcing her own facts by going to the library or finding an expert on a topic--but she was curious to see if anyone had taken up Jeremy on his offer, and she wanted some of that coffee that Jeremy was advertising. Coffee was just one of those grown up things that protagonists in books were always subsisting on, which meant that if Jo wanted to be a spy or auror or anything cool at all that required lots of work over long nights, she probably needed to get used to it.
"I do be needing this," she announced as she approached the booth, and snatched one of the cups before Jeremy had a chance to retort. She took a careful sip as she glanced around his setup, and grimaced. If only coffee wasn't so gross... But she was determined. Fake it until you make it, as granda liked to say.
"What happens if you don't know a fact about the thing they ask about? Do they get something?"
Free Fact Booth
Jeremy had to admit this plan wasn’t going as swimmingly as he hoped, 'cause for the moment nobody seemed to be flocking to his alluring setup and the first person who finally did was one of the last people he was hoping to see. Jeremy scowled. He really needed to set conditions on these things. ‘Free facts! Free to everyone! Except for Jo! (And Kahira).’
“Those are for customers only!” he grumbled, as Jo snatched a coffee. He hadn’t really thought anybody his age would even WANT the coffee. He hoped that would help bring older students. Judging from the look on Jo’s face he wasn’t even sure she DID like it - he squinted at her, wondering if she had taken it just to take something from him.
But the real problem was Jo wasn't even a first-year yet, just like him, so how was SHE gonna help him?
“No they don't get a prize or anything," he said, deliberately, trying to muster his patience. "It's not that kinda booth. And anyway it's not gonna be something they’re gonna have to worry about, because I know a lot about a lot of things,” he said, confidently. "Now you got your coffee, can you go now? They won't come if you're standing here." he said, drumming his fingers on the table, and trying to peer behind her.
"Next!" he called, ignoring that Jo was still standing there.
“Those are for customers only!” he grumbled, as Jo snatched a coffee. He hadn’t really thought anybody his age would even WANT the coffee. He hoped that would help bring older students. Judging from the look on Jo’s face he wasn’t even sure she DID like it - he squinted at her, wondering if she had taken it just to take something from him.
But the real problem was Jo wasn't even a first-year yet, just like him, so how was SHE gonna help him?
“No they don't get a prize or anything," he said, deliberately, trying to muster his patience. "It's not that kinda booth. And anyway it's not gonna be something they’re gonna have to worry about, because I know a lot about a lot of things,” he said, confidently. "Now you got your coffee, can you go now? They won't come if you're standing here." he said, drumming his fingers on the table, and trying to peer behind her.
"Next!" he called, ignoring that Jo was still standing there.
Free Fact Booth
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WC: 247 Interactions: Jeremy Date: August Time: Unknown
OOC Note:ReducioFawkes tends to wear her uniform even during the camp. Do with this info as you wish :> Mentions:Reducio@Jeremy Slater Speech:Reducio#6397b0
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━sta 06|eva 07| str 03| wis 09| arc 07| acc 08━━━━━━ Prodigal Astronomy Learner | Wandmaker ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━Fawkes had simply been roaming around the grounds. Just a leisurely walk to pass the time by. It was also the perfect weather to do so after all. So how was it she found herself here, in front of an upcoming first year, asking for a fact.
Quite frankly she didn't know. She had just walked by when she heard him call out stating he was giving out facts. What facts? Fawkes didn't know. But there was no harm in finding out! She yearned to learn all she could about anything and everything. It was in her nature to seek out any form of knowledge. Even if it came in the form of an 11 year old sitting in the Hogwarts campgrounds with a sign that said free facts and coffee, a drink she did in fact not enjoy.
Before she could go up, another girl had beaten her to it. She stopped walking and stood right where she was waiting patiently. There was no rush after all to get a fact. Fawkes resorted to simply looking around before she heard her be called up.
She walked up to the booth with this puzzled look on her face as she noticed the other girl was still there. Well as much as she wanted to, it was not her place to pry. She had been called up after all. I heard you were giving out facts? She asked tilting her head slightly. Got anything no one else would know?
| INpc: Raphael S. Jourdain | If you feel lost look up at the night sky. The stars will light your path! | Shop!: The Starlight Observatory |
Free Fact Booth
Jeremy perked up - could it be? His first real customer! And…spying the look of her robes…it was a Ravenclaw! "Oh yes, sure, lots of facts! What would you like to know about? Come right up!" he said eagerly, trying to be as welcoming as he could.
This was his chance. A true honest-to-Merlin Ravenclaw here? And he could give a fact on anything he wanted? Could he be so lucky? This was SURE to start the good word going about Jeremy.
There was only one LITTLE problem, which is that despite his doing everything he could to make it clear that Jo wasn't exactly welcome, she was still hovering over them, probably scaring away the customers. He looked at her uneasily, considering whether or not there was a way he could make her go away without seeming unwelcoming in front of his first genuine Ravenclaw, and decided there probably wasn't. He shot her a look that hopefully said 'you better not ruin this for me!' and decided to ignore her hovering.
Of course, given full freedom to give a fact about anything was in some ways harder. There were a whole lot of facts he knew, how could he pick just one? It had to be a good one, he couldn't blow his chance. He decided to go with something safe and relevant for her.
“Well, I can see you’re a Ravenclaw," Jeremy said with approval. "So, how about something about eagles?” the boy asked, putting a hand to his chin.
“Did you know that eagles, even though they have the same size eyes that WE do, can see up to 8 times further? They say that eagles can spot a rabbit from up to THREE kilometers away. That's one of the best eyesights in the whole animal kingdom. It's no wonder they made it the animal of Ravenclaw house." he said glowingly.
@Fawkes Chaos @Josephine Byrne
This was his chance. A true honest-to-Merlin Ravenclaw here? And he could give a fact on anything he wanted? Could he be so lucky? This was SURE to start the good word going about Jeremy.
There was only one LITTLE problem, which is that despite his doing everything he could to make it clear that Jo wasn't exactly welcome, she was still hovering over them, probably scaring away the customers. He looked at her uneasily, considering whether or not there was a way he could make her go away without seeming unwelcoming in front of his first genuine Ravenclaw, and decided there probably wasn't. He shot her a look that hopefully said 'you better not ruin this for me!' and decided to ignore her hovering.
Of course, given full freedom to give a fact about anything was in some ways harder. There were a whole lot of facts he knew, how could he pick just one? It had to be a good one, he couldn't blow his chance. He decided to go with something safe and relevant for her.
“Well, I can see you’re a Ravenclaw," Jeremy said with approval. "So, how about something about eagles?” the boy asked, putting a hand to his chin.
“Did you know that eagles, even though they have the same size eyes that WE do, can see up to 8 times further? They say that eagles can spot a rabbit from up to THREE kilometers away. That's one of the best eyesights in the whole animal kingdom. It's no wonder they made it the animal of Ravenclaw house." he said glowingly.
@Fawkes Chaos @Josephine Byrne
Free Fact Booth
Jo could go, but she didn't especially want to. She hadn't gotten to see the thing she was most curious about: how Jeremy would actually fare when people started requesting facts he didn't know. Jo believed he knew about a lot of stuff, but he couldn't possibly know about everything, and she wanted to see if he'd squirm and admit he was stumped or if he would just make something up. (Besides, she was still drinking her coffee, and it would take a long time indeed to finish it, at the pace she was going).
Unfortunately, the next person to request a fact approached it all wrong, giving Jeremy complete freedom to say whatever he wanted.
"No, no," she told the new Ravenclaw. "You gotta be more specific! Otherwise, you're just letting him off the hook." She picked one of the scraps of parchment and quills and quickly scribbled down 'phlogiston' onto it. With a grin, she flashed it to the Ravenclaw girl before placing it back on the table and pushing it towards Jeremy with two fingers.
She probably would've been willing to bet at least those two fingers that Jeremy wouldn't be able to come up with anything--if he even knew what the word meant. Jo had no clue herself. It was just a word she'd seen in a very old book once and it had struck her as funny, so she'd remembered it.
Unfortunately, the next person to request a fact approached it all wrong, giving Jeremy complete freedom to say whatever he wanted.
"No, no," she told the new Ravenclaw. "You gotta be more specific! Otherwise, you're just letting him off the hook." She picked one of the scraps of parchment and quills and quickly scribbled down 'phlogiston' onto it. With a grin, she flashed it to the Ravenclaw girl before placing it back on the table and pushing it towards Jeremy with two fingers.
She probably would've been willing to bet at least those two fingers that Jeremy wouldn't be able to come up with anything--if he even knew what the word meant. Jo had no clue herself. It was just a word she'd seen in a very old book once and it had struck her as funny, so she'd remembered it.
Free Fact Booth
Alfie's camping experience wasn't going so well. To be sure it was early days, but he'd spent the last several weeks convincing himself that remaking his image would be easy at a new school. No one knew him here. He wasn't that weird little liar who didn't have a father. No one's parents had let it slip to them that he was the reason his mother hadn't lived up to her potential or was unable to find a husband. No one's grandparents had gossiped about what a shame it was that the Owens-senior couldn't enjoy their golden years unencombered by an adult child and her mistake. No, he'd been convinced that he could present himself any way he liked at Hogwarts and that by the end of the month he'd have loads of friends or even people waiting in line just to be his friends. Perhaps if he hadn't allowed himself such high hopes he wouldn't be feeling so defeated today. But between wearing the wrong sort of clothing on his first day, and drawing the most socially awkward roommate in the cabin, he was not getting off to a good start.
Today will be better, he told himself, trying to will this thought into being. He had despensed with the school uniform, which he'd been told made him look over-eager, and he'd put on non-magical clothing. Not that there had been much to choose from. His non-magical wardrobe mainly consisted of his other school uniform, which was what he selected today: black trousers, white polo, with the bright jade Ysgol Cybi1 jumper pulled on over the top. The clothing had seen better days. He'd been wearing a limited number of pieces repeatedly since the beginning of year six, but this was the best of the lot. The jade jumper was still fairly bright and the trousers only a little too short. For once, he was glad that his mother hadn't shelled out the money for the Ysgol Cybi crest. No one had to know it was a uniform. Perhaps he just liked this shade of jade.
Naturally, the first person Alfie saw after leaving the cabin was a girl in her black school robes. And wait-- there was another. Of the first three people he saw, more than half were in black robes. Bobol bach!2 Could he never catch a break?
As he drew near he recognised two of the group as his cabin mates. The snarky girl had been the only other robe wearer then, and she was dressed the same way today. There was also a new girl Alfie had never seen before. The boy, seated at a table, was the one from the cabin whose lies the snarky girl had outed. Alfie had labeled him 'Amateur Liar' in his journal notes.
At an appropriate distance Alfie stopped, stealing a glance at the words on the sign before busying himself with retying the laces of his trainers. He was close enough to see and even eavesdrop if they would speak loud enough, but not so close that he looked desperate and couldn't feign indifference should the need arise.
The sign was interesting. It gave Alfie the impression of a somewhat desperate attempt to do what he himself was doing: trying to reinvite oneself as cleverer and more interesting than you actually were. Of course, the kid could really be knowledgeable, in which case, Alfie could stroke his ego and use him to fill in the gaps--read chasms-- in Alfie's knowledge of the magical world. Not here and now, of course. Alfie wasn't going to reveal his ignorance publically. He wasn't even sure that Amateur Liar here was someone whose discretion he could trust, let alone whether his knowlege persona was as fake as his claims of not being a future first year.
So Alfie took his time, dawdling over the laces, and craning an ear to see how the boy would handle the first question. Alfie waited until the answer was finished before standing and strolling closer.
"Not bad," he declared. He hadn't known the eagle facts before, but they hadn't seemed all that surprising either. It was nothing that Alfie couldn't have looked up himself in the library back on Holyhead. What Alfie really wanted was information about magic and how this magic school worked. Asking something that basic would brand him as ignorant though. Better to start with a trial question. He could name something that he was mildly curious about, but not something that every magical person could be expected to know. Of course, it would help if Alfie seemed to already know the answer himself and to only be asking to test the boy's knowledge.
"Betcha you can't tell me about Welsh magic though. Most English haven't got a clue. You could maybe just name a famous wizard or witch from Wales. It's okay if you can't. I expect they don't teach that down south."
"Alfie Wyn Owen," he added as an afterthought, nodding pleasantly to include all parties before addressing his cabin-mates more confidentially. "It was a bit of a dog's dinner yesterday. I didn't catch your names."
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Today will be better, he told himself, trying to will this thought into being. He had despensed with the school uniform, which he'd been told made him look over-eager, and he'd put on non-magical clothing. Not that there had been much to choose from. His non-magical wardrobe mainly consisted of his other school uniform, which was what he selected today: black trousers, white polo, with the bright jade Ysgol Cybi1 jumper pulled on over the top. The clothing had seen better days. He'd been wearing a limited number of pieces repeatedly since the beginning of year six, but this was the best of the lot. The jade jumper was still fairly bright and the trousers only a little too short. For once, he was glad that his mother hadn't shelled out the money for the Ysgol Cybi crest. No one had to know it was a uniform. Perhaps he just liked this shade of jade.
Naturally, the first person Alfie saw after leaving the cabin was a girl in her black school robes. And wait-- there was another. Of the first three people he saw, more than half were in black robes. Bobol bach!2 Could he never catch a break?
As he drew near he recognised two of the group as his cabin mates. The snarky girl had been the only other robe wearer then, and she was dressed the same way today. There was also a new girl Alfie had never seen before. The boy, seated at a table, was the one from the cabin whose lies the snarky girl had outed. Alfie had labeled him 'Amateur Liar' in his journal notes.
At an appropriate distance Alfie stopped, stealing a glance at the words on the sign before busying himself with retying the laces of his trainers. He was close enough to see and even eavesdrop if they would speak loud enough, but not so close that he looked desperate and couldn't feign indifference should the need arise.
The sign was interesting. It gave Alfie the impression of a somewhat desperate attempt to do what he himself was doing: trying to reinvite oneself as cleverer and more interesting than you actually were. Of course, the kid could really be knowledgeable, in which case, Alfie could stroke his ego and use him to fill in the gaps--read chasms-- in Alfie's knowledge of the magical world. Not here and now, of course. Alfie wasn't going to reveal his ignorance publically. He wasn't even sure that Amateur Liar here was someone whose discretion he could trust, let alone whether his knowlege persona was as fake as his claims of not being a future first year.
So Alfie took his time, dawdling over the laces, and craning an ear to see how the boy would handle the first question. Alfie waited until the answer was finished before standing and strolling closer.
"Not bad," he declared. He hadn't known the eagle facts before, but they hadn't seemed all that surprising either. It was nothing that Alfie couldn't have looked up himself in the library back on Holyhead. What Alfie really wanted was information about magic and how this magic school worked. Asking something that basic would brand him as ignorant though. Better to start with a trial question. He could name something that he was mildly curious about, but not something that every magical person could be expected to know. Of course, it would help if Alfie seemed to already know the answer himself and to only be asking to test the boy's knowledge.
"Betcha you can't tell me about Welsh magic though. Most English haven't got a clue. You could maybe just name a famous wizard or witch from Wales. It's okay if you can't. I expect they don't teach that down south."
"Alfie Wyn Owen," he added as an afterthought, nodding pleasantly to include all parties before addressing his cabin-mates more confidentially. "It was a bit of a dog's dinner yesterday. I didn't catch your names."
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Welsh Vocabulary and English colloqualisms used in Wales:
Reducio
- 1Ysgol Cybi.****(UH-sgol KUH-bee) The name of a primary school in Holyhead, Wales. Ysgol means school. Cybi is the name of the saint who Holyhead (Caergybi) is named for.
- 2Bobol bach!*** (BOB-ul bahkh) Literally "Little people!" used as in English "Good grief!"
- 3Dog's dinner.** UK colloquialism meaning a badly messed up or chaotic situation.
Last edited by Alfie Owen on 28 Aug 2026, 04:59, edited 4 times in total.
Free Fact Booth
“Hey! That…that’s not what this is about," Jer tried to protest, as Jo seemed to think it was some kinda 'stump Jeremy' booth. Jeremy had been feeling mighty clever as he gave what he thought was a very interesting fact - but of course Jo was still hovering. Did she know that she wasn’t supposed to be here? He suddenly felt very strongly that Jo was the type to show up to other kids’ birthday parties even when she wasn’t invited and take the first slice of cake.
But she had followed the rules, and she had written the word down on the parchment so what could he do now? By the honor of his booth, he had to give a fact, especially with everyone watching.
Jeremy wrinkled his nose and looked down at the word she'd written. ‘Phlogiston’...? Was he reading it backwards or something? He almost blurted out a challenge, that that wasn't even a real word! That it was just something she had made up. But luckily he caught himself in time. No, that would be an amateur move. If he knew she was making it up, she'd look foolish. And if he said she was making it up and she wasn't, HE would. He looked up and squinted at her, trying to see if she looked like she knew what she was talking about, and found her eyes inscrutable.
“Right, Phlogiston...” the boy said, his brain spinning.
What the heck was a 'Phlogiston'? He knew how to figure out words by comparing them to other words, but 'Phlogi'? It made him think of logistics...Logistician? No...But it sounded old...and kinda Greek. That didn't help much. Lots of old things sounded Greek. He didn't know what 'ton' meant, but he'd heard of something called a 'sexton' once. That was some old job, though he didn't remember what they did.
He looked up again, at the expectant faces around him. And before he knew what he was even gonna say, he found himself talking.
“Well it’s impressive you even know what that is, because there haven’t been Phlogistons in so many years, most people don’t even remember they existed.” he said, not sure where the words were coming from, and how he was looking Jo straight in the eye as he said it.
“Back before there was even a Ministry of Magic, or the Wizengamot, or any of those things, when somebody was accused of doing something bad, it all came to the town Phlogiston. They weren't like a Chief Warlock, or a judge, or anything - not exactly. It was their job to talk to everybody in the town one by one, to hear what every single person thought of the person accused. Not just if they thought he did it but what he was really like. They were supposed to be the ears and the heart of the town." he said, pleased with that turn of phrase, which sounded like something he might read in a book. "If it wasn’t for the town phlogiston, lots of innocent men woulda gone to the grave. They were friends to all, and everybody respected what they said. Now, are you satisfied? he said, meeting her eyes with his, and giving her the hardest stare he knew how to, daring her to tell him he was wrong.
In fact, he so badly wanted to beat Jo that he was half-convinced it must be right. Maybe he'd just forgotten that he'd read it somewhere.
Still, it was a big relief when Alfie spoke next, breaking what felt like a very long silence. He welcomed the boy warmly, and ignored the part that made the English seem daft.
“Jeremy Slater, and o’course I can tell you about Welsh magic, I can tell you lots about it.” the boy said proudly. “There's lots of books about famous Welsh wizards - so what about the ones that worked right here? Everybody knows about Helga Hufflepuff, so that's too easy. But did you know that a Welsh witch was also a Headmistress of this very school?” he said pointing in the distance at the castle he so badly wanted to enter. “Her name was Dilys Derwent and she was here in the 1700s. Not only was she headmistress, she was ALSO a healer, and she even has a portrait in St. Mungos, which is one of the best hospitals you could ever work in. So not only did she work at the best hospital, she also worked at the best school.” he said proudly.
@Alfie Owen @Josephine Byrne
But she had followed the rules, and she had written the word down on the parchment so what could he do now? By the honor of his booth, he had to give a fact, especially with everyone watching.
Jeremy wrinkled his nose and looked down at the word she'd written. ‘Phlogiston’...? Was he reading it backwards or something? He almost blurted out a challenge, that that wasn't even a real word! That it was just something she had made up. But luckily he caught himself in time. No, that would be an amateur move. If he knew she was making it up, she'd look foolish. And if he said she was making it up and she wasn't, HE would. He looked up and squinted at her, trying to see if she looked like she knew what she was talking about, and found her eyes inscrutable.
“Right, Phlogiston...” the boy said, his brain spinning.
What the heck was a 'Phlogiston'? He knew how to figure out words by comparing them to other words, but 'Phlogi'? It made him think of logistics...Logistician? No...But it sounded old...and kinda Greek. That didn't help much. Lots of old things sounded Greek. He didn't know what 'ton' meant, but he'd heard of something called a 'sexton' once. That was some old job, though he didn't remember what they did.
He looked up again, at the expectant faces around him. And before he knew what he was even gonna say, he found himself talking.
“Well it’s impressive you even know what that is, because there haven’t been Phlogistons in so many years, most people don’t even remember they existed.” he said, not sure where the words were coming from, and how he was looking Jo straight in the eye as he said it.
“Back before there was even a Ministry of Magic, or the Wizengamot, or any of those things, when somebody was accused of doing something bad, it all came to the town Phlogiston. They weren't like a Chief Warlock, or a judge, or anything - not exactly. It was their job to talk to everybody in the town one by one, to hear what every single person thought of the person accused. Not just if they thought he did it but what he was really like. They were supposed to be the ears and the heart of the town." he said, pleased with that turn of phrase, which sounded like something he might read in a book. "If it wasn’t for the town phlogiston, lots of innocent men woulda gone to the grave. They were friends to all, and everybody respected what they said. Now, are you satisfied? he said, meeting her eyes with his, and giving her the hardest stare he knew how to, daring her to tell him he was wrong.
In fact, he so badly wanted to beat Jo that he was half-convinced it must be right. Maybe he'd just forgotten that he'd read it somewhere.
Still, it was a big relief when Alfie spoke next, breaking what felt like a very long silence. He welcomed the boy warmly, and ignored the part that made the English seem daft.
“Jeremy Slater, and o’course I can tell you about Welsh magic, I can tell you lots about it.” the boy said proudly. “There's lots of books about famous Welsh wizards - so what about the ones that worked right here? Everybody knows about Helga Hufflepuff, so that's too easy. But did you know that a Welsh witch was also a Headmistress of this very school?” he said pointing in the distance at the castle he so badly wanted to enter. “Her name was Dilys Derwent and she was here in the 1700s. Not only was she headmistress, she was ALSO a healer, and she even has a portrait in St. Mungos, which is one of the best hospitals you could ever work in. So not only did she work at the best hospital, she also worked at the best school.” he said proudly.
@Alfie Owen @Josephine Byrne
Free Fact Booth
It occurred to Jo, as Jeremy delivered a long speech about the history of phlogistons and their important role in early wizarding society, that her approach at trying to stump him might have been just a teensy bit flawed. Given that her knowledge of phlogiston started and ended with the word itself, she was poorly positioned to tell whether any part of his little spiel had been truthful. She had a sense, though, that he was talking pure s-h-i-t-e. If only because his version of a phlogiston sounded interesting enough she was sure she would've remembered it. Well, and there was something mighty suspicious about the way he was staring at her. She didn't think she'd ever seen him stare that hard at anything that wasn't a book. But was she certain enough that he was lying that she was willing to outright tell him?
She narrowed her eyes at him and took a slow, deliberate sip of her (still too bitter, how did grownups drink this all the time?) coffee as she considered her options. She had to admit he had delivered his explanation with a confidence she never would've expected of a lying Jeremy, but maybe all she had to do was press him hard enough that he'd confess.
Unfortunately, one of the boys from their cabin had arrived for his own fact, forcing Jo to sit through a dreadfully boring explanation about a Hogwarts headmistress who'd once been a healer. She literally almost yawned.
"I'm Jo Byrne," she told Alfie. "Middle name redacted." Which was a cooler way of saying that no one needed to know that her parents had decided to name her like a character from a old-timey romance novel. At least Josephine was salvageable.
She turned back to Jeremy. "I can't believe you went with a healer when you have the entire history of the Holyhead Harpies right there. Just Gwenog Jones has loads of interesting facts about her. Did you know," she told Aflie, "that when she was the manager of the Welsh national team, during one of the World Cups, she was banned from entering the stadium for like the first half of the game because the shirt she was wearing was too rude?" She was reasonably confident the answer would be no, because it had happened before they were born and because he was a boy, and boys were almost universally dumb about the merits of the Harpies, even Welsh ones.
"And you wouldn't mind if I check the accuracy of that phlogiston fact, right?" she asked Jeremy, making sure to speak quickly so no one else could interrupt again. "I'm sure there must be a dictionary in our cabin." She smiled at him expectantly. She'd already seen, the previous day, that Jeremy was willing to go quite far to back up a lie, but surely he'd know that she wouldn't hesitate to fact-check him. In front of their entire cabin, if need be.
She narrowed her eyes at him and took a slow, deliberate sip of her (still too bitter, how did grownups drink this all the time?) coffee as she considered her options. She had to admit he had delivered his explanation with a confidence she never would've expected of a lying Jeremy, but maybe all she had to do was press him hard enough that he'd confess.
Unfortunately, one of the boys from their cabin had arrived for his own fact, forcing Jo to sit through a dreadfully boring explanation about a Hogwarts headmistress who'd once been a healer. She literally almost yawned.
"I'm Jo Byrne," she told Alfie. "Middle name redacted." Which was a cooler way of saying that no one needed to know that her parents had decided to name her like a character from a old-timey romance novel. At least Josephine was salvageable.
She turned back to Jeremy. "I can't believe you went with a healer when you have the entire history of the Holyhead Harpies right there. Just Gwenog Jones has loads of interesting facts about her. Did you know," she told Aflie, "that when she was the manager of the Welsh national team, during one of the World Cups, she was banned from entering the stadium for like the first half of the game because the shirt she was wearing was too rude?" She was reasonably confident the answer would be no, because it had happened before they were born and because he was a boy, and boys were almost universally dumb about the merits of the Harpies, even Welsh ones.
"And you wouldn't mind if I check the accuracy of that phlogiston fact, right?" she asked Jeremy, making sure to speak quickly so no one else could interrupt again. "I'm sure there must be a dictionary in our cabin." She smiled at him expectantly. She'd already seen, the previous day, that Jeremy was willing to go quite far to back up a lie, but surely he'd know that she wouldn't hesitate to fact-check him. In front of their entire cabin, if need be.
Free Fact Booth
Credit to Marigold Wesley
@Jeremy Slater | @Josephine Byrne
Alejandros wasn't completely sure what to think about this whole summer camp thing. It was kind of nice to follow Rina around, or even just wander, but when he wandered then he had to worry about wandering somewhere people didn't want him to be. He didn't need everyone to like him, but he really needed no one to dislike him, which he supposed was best accomplished by staying out of the way. That was easier, too, because his English wasn't very good.
Currently, Ros was wandering. He liked to people-watch, to see what everyone was up to. This drew him to the oddest thing he'd seen yet today: a table set up out on the grass, complete with a sign and a huddle of people. It was his interest to see what the sign said that brought him closer -- he had to get the right angle, with the limbs in the way -- and he was met with something luckily easy to read. Free facts! And coffee! How interesting. He wondered if Rina liked coffee, but she probably didn't need it. She already had so much energy.
After reading, he realized he'd wandered into a situation that seemed somewhat tense. Ros was good at picking up on that sort of thing. He was also good at inventing tension where none existed, but it was hard to tell the two apart. There was a girl with auburn hair and a boy with brown hair -- he was behind the table, so must be the one with the facts -- who seemed to be in a sort of stand-off, and he glanced between the two, apprehensive. It was hard to tell what they were saying, they had so many words, and for that reason maybe he shouldn't ask for a fact. His feet felt glued to the grass, unsure of how best to escape unnoticed. Perhaps he should back away slowly?
Aislin Darragh (PC) • Bridget Collins (1st gen PC) • Phyllis Stanwood (1st gen iNPC)



