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Tipsy Tycoon

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                                    "Yes, isn't that what I just said? Not something I can explain. Like why 'pony' and 'bologna' rhyme in English even though they're spelled nothing alike...only with more embarrassing details about me," said Liesel, her tone guarded, razor-edged, hostile, even though she hadn't wanted for it to come out that way at all. It just happened when she and Phillip were together like this. Her heart said let him in but the neurotic part of her mind was screaming, RED ALERT!

                                    She knew it wasn't fair to him, though. It wasn't his fault that her life had gone totally haywire. Since they were five, he'd been nothing but kind to her, and she...well, she'd had the kindness beaten out of her, and with anybody else, she could have gladly patted herself on the back for her natural, conditioned snark, but not him.

                                    She didn't know what love was supposed to look like. Merlin knew her parents hadn't modeled it for her. But if she had to take a wild guess in the dark, it would be whatever she and Phillip had, and even still, she kept on ******** it up over and over with the same bitchy personality she prided herself on when dealing with the rest of the world.

                                    "Look, I'm sorry," she said.

                                    And she didn't apologize often.

                                    "But I just...it's not something I...what I did at the dance was stupid and unacceptable, but is there any chance you can just take my sorry and my word that it will never happen again? Liebling. I promise.." It just killed her, knowing how important he thought she was. Knowing how she just didn't have enough within her to give him all the...all the nice things he deserved.

                                    But maybe she could come close enough, if she set her damned mind to it.

                                    She'd get rid of the panic attacks somehow. Hell, she'd even take Amortentia if she had to! Of course, he'd have to keep it on his person if it was to work...but that wasn't a problem! She could slip a bottle into his pocket, let him carry it around all day, discreetly take it back when things were starting to get intimate between them, dismiss herself to the restroom to 'freshen up' so he wouldn't see her drugging herself...

                                    She could pull it off. Definitely. Sneakiness was just one of her many natural talents.

                                    She stammered a bit when he went on. "Physical reason?" she repeated. "Don't be ridiculous, what physical reason could I possibly..."

                                    He knew she wasn't exactly a blushing virgin. Hell, Pettigrew probably still had the little red bruises she'd sucked down his stomach and into his inner thighs.

                                    "I mean, come on." She gave him a conspicuous, staged once-over and said, "Any girl in this school would literally die to sleep with you, even the firsties--have you seen how they look at you? And they still think 'sleep with' means actual sleep!" she said.

                                    Any girl at this school would die to sleep with him...and yet here she was, frantically thinking up contingency plans in case of the event.

                                    "Physical reason," she repeated once more in a mocking tone, giving him a light, playful punch in the shoulder. "It's not you. Promise," she went on in the same tone someone might use to assert that two plus two equaled five.

                                    "Speaking of all that physical scheisse, don't you have to run around the castle twelve times or else your parents will send you a Howler or whatever?" she piped up.

                                    And she was usually such an opponent of the weird, structured lifestyle the Kutner family insisted upon.

                                    For as long as she and Phillip could remember, she'd been the force of dissent in his life. The girl who could always be counted on to nudge an extra Butterbeer into his hand because, "Merlin, Phillip, it's a party!" The one who'd spend her summers smuggling him cupcakes from that expensive bakery on Church Street, even though it always made her feel bad, like she was smuggling drugs. The one who'd beg him to skip his morning runs to "help her with her potions essays," which was really just code for, 'hang out with me.'

                                    His parents' strict regime was one of the things that had been driving a wedge between them all these years...but now, in Liesel's time of need, it was a barrier she could erect to her own purposes.

                                    And Merlin, did she need one now. She just wanted this conversation to be over quick, clean, and easy.

                                    "C'mon, soldier, chop chop, double-time," she said.

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XXXXKimberly-Lynn Lorna KencekXXXXX



                                                        "Ah, right." she said, sometimes Kim could be a bit slow on the uptake when it came to sarcasm. Not all the time, she was usually pretty quick herself, but when she was distracted like this by her own emotions she tended to over react a bit, apologize more than needed, things like that.

                                                        Immediately Dane started to take her side, defend her in all the right ways, and even cheer her up a little bit and this was exactly why he was her best friend. Never had ever put her down before, made her feel uncomfortable, or hid anything behind her back, he was always so forward with her but not as serious as most would be, and she loved him for it. Even when he put his hand on her shoulder she couldn't help but lean into it a little bit more. He always did make her feel just a little bit stronger, even just by being around.

                                                        Even if deep down she just figured he was saying these things because he felt he had too...not because they were true.

                                                        She couldn't help it sometimes, especially when she was alone, hearing these voices in her head that would put her down. The voices that would tell her the exact opposite of what Dane was trying to tell her right now, that she was stupid, and crazy. That she was overreacting and being silly for even thinking anyone would take her seriously or want to be with her.

                                                        Even Dane only liked her as a friend...

                                                        But that was because that was all they were, that was all they ever had been.

                                                        "Thanks Dane, you always know what to say how to cheer a girl up. It's a wonder you're still single." she said with a smile. "I mean, really, you were even stuck with me at the stupid dance last week when you probably could have had any girl in the school, what did you wait til the last minute when they were all taken?" she teased. Trying to make light of the situation even though it was only temporarily making herself feel better.

                                                        'Seriously though...Thank you, I don't know what I'd do with out you. Honestly, I'd be lost. I mean look at me, I'm a mess and it's only been a week...I haven't even talked to...well you know and I'm tearing myself apart, I didn't even ask him what happened! It could all be some stupid misunderstanding...right?"

                                                        Dane was the only person she trusted to talk about Amycus like this. Heck, even though she said yes to going to the dance with Amycus last week she still hadn't told him fully how she felt, but Dane knew and while she sometimes caught a glimpse of his disapproving look, he was always their for her in the end. She couldn't trust talking to anyone else about it, god forbid they get the word back to Amycus without it being on her own terms...or worse, Carmen.


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XXXXXXXXXXXXJames 'Prongs' PotterXXXXXXXXXXX
It's been a long day
And all I've got to say is make it strong
It's been a long day
And all I've got to say is I've been wrong



                                                        James led the crew as they walked down through the grounds and towards Hogsmead. He didn't care if they were keeping up, he didn't care if he would apparate without them if he got there and they were taking to long, to be honest he didn't care about much at all besides trying to get this bloody day over with and taking their time sitting back in the Great Hall eating breakfast was not going to speed the day up any faster...

                                                        Then again getting to the funeral wouldn't speed it up either but he'd worry about that when he got there.

                                                        He could hear his friends keeping up though and in the long run he was glad for that all while not caring at the same time. In the future, he knew he'd be glad they were here for him for this. He knew he'd be grateful for their support and thank them and even apologize for being the a** that he was right now, but in the moment...he couldn't do it. He just needed to get it over with, and then he'd worry about everything else.

                                                        Even when Peter jogged to catch up with him, meeting his pace and staying by his side as he asked the same question James had heard from almost every single person he had ran into this week. It was almost automatic now for him to expect that question to come from anyones mouth, but he really wished it wouldn't. Especially from his friends, whom he clearly hoped would have caught on by now that despite his responding to Peter or anyone else with the word, "Fine." that he clearly was not fine...and that was the last question he wanted to hear.

                                                        He'd apologize to Peter later about that too.

                                                        They got to the gate and James quickly stepped through, taking a deep breath as he hesitated. Not to wait for them to catch up, just like before he still did not care if they had or not, but hesitated only because his emotions from snapped from wanting to get this over with to not wanting to go at all very quickly, an experience he had been having all week with his emotions. It was something he was not used too...James was always used to knowing, and getting, what he wanted.

                                                        Sirius started to count down and it was what brought James back to the reality that regardless of him not sure if he wanted to go it didn't matter, he had to go. Plain and simple...and with that he apparated just like the rest of them to his house, only to hesitate at the door.

                                                        He could have opened it for them, let them in without question, but he hesitated again. In front of his friends, his supporters, he hesitated, not ready to go inside where his mother's body laid dead in a coffin somewhere in that house that he grew up in. Not inside where he was sure his father would be, probably as distraught as he felt he assumed. Not inside where the house he grew up in was once filled with happy memories of his mother and himself, of his family, where now those memories were going to be tarnished by this dark one instead...

                                                        Someone knocked on his house door for him...making him feel like if he was entering a strangers home...as if that would make this any easier.

                                                        Surprisingly enough his father opened the door in one swift motion and he was not alone. Professor Joycelyn was already there, standing in his Entrance Hall, sticking out like a sore thumb. In a way it made this easier to pretend that this wasn't his home, that it was a strangers home, or maybe even hers that this was happening in...and not his.

                                                        "Professor..." he greeted before his eyes met his fathers and he became confused almost....His father did not look as he expected him too, but then again grief did stranger things to people. Maybe his father was just handling this in a way he could not understand. After all, he had only lost his mother while his father had lost his wife, life long lover, and friend...or so they would say they were anyway.

                                                        James walked into his house and stepped aside for the others to follow suit. He kept looking between his professor and his father, but thought nothing of it. No one else was here yet, but they were pretty early as it was. "Right then..." he started, feeling the need to say something if only to break the tension.

                                                        As if she was his guardian angel in some way, James' eyes went directly to Lily and in a moment of desperation to break some sort of silence or shield that was starting to build he almost jumped forward and directed her towards his father, "Dad...you didn't get to meet Lily yet have you?...Or Rymes, well Sam, yes...Lily, Sam this is my...Dad."


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It's been a long week
And all the lines come down heavy on me
Its been a long week
I'm finally feeling like its okay to break

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XXXXSandra JoycelynXXXXX


                                                        Sandra was trying to fight off the feeling that was starting to build between them, the same feelings that she started to feel on the grounds that night last week when they were alone...the feelings that made it feel like it was just the two of them in the world and no one else. She did not want to feel like that, not right now, not like this. It was wrong, and like everything else that was happening it made her second guess her coming here. She didn't say anything about it though, just listened as he stammered about him wanting her to stay with him, for now while they waited for others to arrive.

                                                        "Of course..." she said, but only just in time for someone else to knock at the door. She smiled slightly as Creighton went to answer the door only for it to be his son and his friends standing there.

                                                        The look on James' face when she had spotted him broke her heart and made her feel twenty times more guilty about any of the other feelings she was having towards his father. No matter what Hilaeira had done to her in the past, or Creighton, she was still a mother to James and he had lost her and nothing could replace that feeling in the world...nothing. She could only look at him for a little while before she had to glance down at her feet instead. As James had walked inside with his friends and started to introduce those in the group that wouldn't know his father, she began to feel like an intruder. A stranger on the outside who did not belong in this circle of family and friends.

                                                        She shouldn't be here...

                                                        But it was too late, she was, and Creighton did not want her to go. James did not seem bothered by her being here, and she wasn't worried about anyone else being disturbed by it so how could she just leave now? She knew she couldn't, she committed to this so she needed to stay as long as acceptable before making a leave but she also knew the longer she stayed the harder it would be for her to go...

                                                        Stepping forward slowly, she waited for James to finish introducing Samantha and Lily to his father, only then cutting in on the conversation, "I'm sure your father has at least seen Lily around the school, she's the Head Girl, and was prefect with Remus before that..." she stood only just outside the group as she spoke, trying to feel less like a spectator and more like someone actually here.

                                                        She could only imagine how strange it must be for her students....especially James right now, but she had to try...


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Dangerous Phantom


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Garrett couldn’t help but sigh when she mentioned how her boss was on her because of the Potters. He knew that he might have been one of the reasons he was riding her so hard. For the past week the daily prophet’s editor or he assumed it was him, kept on trying to find any information on the Potter case. The one that he was in charge of, so keeping them at bay. “yeah I’ve gotten quite a few messages from someone demanding any information. I assumed that was him, I’ll say this. When the prophet wants to run a story they will run it despite privacy…ah no offence” Since his time as an Auror which he would admit wasn’t long there was one thing he had learned. The Daily Prophet really does love to get in their way. He didn’t and would NEVER put Billie in that category. But from everyone else he had to interact with, it was a bit of a chore. It was because Billie that he was even agreeing to an interview, if it was anyone else he wouldn’t trust them with his words with his life.

He would admit that it might have been a mistake to ask if she wanted to hang here with him for a bit, especially for the interview, one that he knew he wouldn’t get today since Billie wouldn’t have been prepared. But…he wanted more time. Whenever they did decide to do the interview, he had a big feeling that he wouldn’t be able to see her until then. He knew that this little bit happiness he had whenever he was with her, this feeling would leave him as soon as he left this coffee shop. And he would have to return to his harsh reality, so it was a bit of a selfish act…for him to want more time.

For a moment he believed he wouldn’t get it. As she mentioned having a deadline, which he could understand. But his smile widened when she said yes, though it wouldn’t be the interview itself. “That’s fine, I didn’t expect you would” he grinned scratching the scruff on his jaw before turning to lead them to a corner table. “You should know I can’t speak of anything classified” he said casually as he took another sip of his cup. “other than that, I’m yours” His eyes shined as he watched her sit across from him. “What do you want to know?”





Muggle Coffee Shop: ♞ L o c a t i o n
Billie:♞ W h o ' s W i t h M e

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Anxious Roisterer

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location: the Slytherin table with: Edward and Natasha

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                                            "Don't talk to me, Callaghan, I'm sober enough to kick your arse now and this will be your final warning, you ******** cow," Marilyn hissed, and that was the last of the attention she paid Danielle while there were more worthwhile people to entertain herself with.

                                            As Liesel walked away Marilyn rolled her eyes at Edward and said, "You are so up her arse." What? He'd said it himself that she should get on his case instead of Lise's. Although she did agree with him about some of Lise's recent choices. Pettigrew was the kind of useless worm who needed to be bred right out of the gene pool. But if he kept Lise nice and distracted...

                                            She took the banana from him but resolutely refused to peel it. "You know bananas don't really keep you from fainting right? Trust me, my father is a Healer." She had no idea whether that bananas thing was true, but she could usually get away with passing off any health-related statement as true if she qualified it with her father's reputation.

                                            The same father who ignored her, left her alone and dumped her at her uncles when her desire for a normal education and social life became an inconvenience to his traveling healer gig, although she couldn't complain about that part. Uncle Marcus had been more of a father to her than her real father had ever been. Everyone thought he was such a hero, but Marilyn knew better. As the daughter he allowed to fall by the wayside she knew he was nothing but an irresponsible, big fat lard who was trying to claw his way to sainthood to make up for the fact that he wasn't good enough to take care of his own family.

                                            And now he was leaving her mother for some Mauritanian whore he'd met in his travels. Ridiculous.

                                            And maybe one banana wouldn't make Maire go up a dress size, but it would tighten her skirt a centimeter or two around her waist and the thought alone was enough to make her want to retch considering she'd worked SO HARD to distance herself from her father, thinking if she could only beat the genetic hand he'd dealt her then maybe she could leave her past behind and just be ******** happy.

                                            She sipped her water and turned an affectionate smile to Natasha when addressed. "Of course, that's what they call me!" She took out her pack of cigarettes and offered one to Natasha. "Why is it always that hot girls don't have their own smokes? Probably used to boys just handing them to you, eh? I bet those French boys were really crazy for you. Our boys have been sending you glances all week. So, Tasha--may I call you Tasha?" She grinned. "How are you liking the place so far? Any favorite classes? Opinions on which boys have the best calves?"

                                            Over the rim of her cup she glanced briefly at the Ravenclaw table just in time to see Phillip get up. He had some nice calves, nice arse too, she thought as her eyes followed the lean line of his legs upward. He looked like he was in a hurry to do something...and hopefully that something was dumping Liesel Dolohov so Maire could have her shot.

                                            She looked back at Natasha with her smile still in place. She wasn't usually so, well, non abrasive, but best to be nice to the new girl just in case she needed allies down the road. Word on the street was Phillip and Lise hadn't spoken for a week, but Marilyn knew she was still in a precarious position, and she wasn't in the clear just yet.


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The Squadfather's Significant Otter

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                              Funerals were always something to be avoided. Reese had been to very little, but they had always left a dour taste in her mouth. It helped she didn’t have to attend this one, even though it seemed as if half the school was gone. No, even if she had wanted to go, she couldn’t. She had managed to get herself detention, and it was not for something she could talk herself out of, else she would’ve tried by now. Leaning against the wall, a few corridors from her safe, comfortable dorm, she cracked her fingers methodically, one by one—from her little finger on her left, to the opposite on her right.

                              Stalling before the inevitable.

                              She felt awkward—and if there was one sensation she hated, it had to be that feeling. Reese wasn’t accustomed to, nor did she enjoy, feeling off balance. Whatever happened, she maintained her cool (or at the very least, some version of it), and it was rare to be truly disturbed by anything.

                              Then again, maybe disturbed wasn’t the right word here. Intrigued or frustrated would be more like it.

                              Yikes.

                              Her trouble had all come from the fact she’d skipped Defense after that first lesson. You could only do that for so long and still be enrolled in a class at NEWT-level, and it had surprised her professor Riddle hadn’t kicked her out at this point. Instead, he’d given her detention for a large part of every Saturday until at the very least the first of December. Not unfair, but still very frustrating, especially seeing as she’d be confronted with the person she’d been trying to avoid.

                              The least he could’ve done was, give her a heads-up as to his appearance. Then again, she only had herself to blame. She’d been so hungover upon returning to Hogwarts, she’d largely gone through the motions of the Feast on auto-pilot, her mind asleep, while she sat as far away from the teacher’s table as possible. She’d let loose a string of muttered curses the first time she unsuspectingly walked into the DADA classroom, drawing curious glances from some of her housemates, while she spent the rest of the lesson stone-faced, trying to decide on how to deal with this.

                              There were more than enough people she’d slept with currently attending Hogwarts, but she hadn’t counted on one being in a professor’s (or assistant, if you wanted to get specific) role.

                              Well, they said there was a first time for everything, wasn’t there?

                              With a long, suffering sigh and a face set to thunder, she trudged up the stairs and to the third floor, to the Defense classroom. Knocking, she waited for a minute, but no response came. However, the door was unlocked, and with the most neutral expression she could plaster on her face, she opened it, finding the room to be empty. Letting herself in, she sat down at one of the double-desks in the front of the room, tapping her fingers on the table in a clearly impatient gesture.

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Tipsy Tycoon

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                              If you had asked Rodolphus Lestrange one year ago what he imagined himself doing in a year's time exactly, he'd probably say getting ready to hex little kids in Halloween costumes for sport. Instead, he was preparing lesson plans--shocker, really, and he wasn't the easily shocked type. Still, he didn't anticipate the Dark Lord ever setting him up as an assistant while he passed himself off as a Defense professor. The full-time desk job didn't exactly agree with Rodolphus, who was restless and easily driven stir-crazy.

                              But, wherever Lord Voldemort put him, there he'd stay. He was nothing if not a faithful soldier. So he graded papers, drudged through the days, and contended with the boredom by using a few unauthorized punishment methods on students in detention and sleeping his way through the lovely ladies of Hufflepuff House--those 'puffs were always so generous, weren't they?

                              Unfortunately, his Saturday morning was booked. Instead of sleeping in or enjoying himself, he'd been asked to oversee detention in the Defense classroom, so that morning, he grudgingly dragged himself out of bed, made himself presentable, and turned up to his post.

                              When he opened the door, he paused a little, a smirk spreading across his face.

                              Maybe overseeing detention wouldn't be so bad after all.

                              "Cutting defense, are we, Madame Macharet?"

                              He only called her that because he knew she hated it.

                              They'd fooled around a little that summer--who would have thought she'd end up one of his students?--and she'd seemed like a dame with no disillusions about life on this compost-heap of a planet. She knew you didn't have to know what you wanted and she had no problem giving the finger to society and all its limitations.

                              But even still, she had a lot to learn in the breaking-the-rules department from him.

                              Or maybe she just didn't like him--either way, she hadn't come to see him, which was disappointing.

                              "I hope you're not avoiding me, mon petit chou."

                              'My little cabbage.' French, right?

                              "You don't think I couldn't handle the rejection, do you? Come on, we're all civilized human beings here..."

                              He threw the door shut with a flick of his wand and in a few strides, crossed the room to her desk.

                              "So, what'll it be? Remedial lessons? You sure have missed a fair bit in class," he said, leaning over with a hand on her shoulder.

Tipsy Tycoon

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                          Lily was the sort of person who wanted to be there for you, who'd keep her back straight for your sake so you'd have a pillar of strength to lean on in trying times.

                          But try as she might to play that role, never had she felt more awkward than she ever had in her life. She watched as Sirius took Sam's hand and glanced down at James' hand with contemplation...

                          If you had asked her as a firstie if she would ever hold James Potter's hand, even if his mum was dead, she'd have said, no way. But now, things were different...

                          Would he even want to be touched right now, though? She saw how short he got with Peter and cast the boy a sympathetic smile. He was a nice guy, but a little tactless sometimes.

                          Along with the others, she Apparated to the Potter estate and moved along with the crowd. When they reached the doorstep, James just looked dumbfounded, so Lily knocked in his place and soon enough, a man who, judging by the resemblance, must have been James' father opened the door.

                          She followed the conversation between father and son and jolted to attention when her name came up as James introduced her and Sam to his father. "Ah, yes, you must be Lilian! We've heard so much about you," said Mr. Potter, and Lily struggled not to cringe.

                          "Actually, it's just Lily," she said.

                          "Yes, of course! Terribly sorry."

                          She could understand. He was probably distracted, what with...well, everything.

                          He stood in the foyer like that for several seconds and ran a hand down his face, fingers brushing his nose and mouth. "M-Mr. Potter?"

                          "Terribly sorry, Lily, sorry...it's just that you so resemble..."

                          What was she supposed to say to that? That she was sorry? For looking so much like James' redheaded mother?

                          She was sympathetic, really, but this was getting more and more awkward by the second.

                          "I'm very sorry for your loss, Mr. Potter," she said.

                          Mr. Potter thanked her in a mutter and led the lot of them inside.
                          "Professor,"
                          Lily nodded to Professor Joycelyn with a smile as they stepped into the foyer.

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Sparkly Fairy

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•·.·´¯`·.·• •·.·´¯`·.·••·.·´¯`·.·• •·.·´¯`·.·••·.·´¯`·.·• •·.·´¯`·.·•

"The pleasure is mine, Diederick. I would so hate to see you make a fool out of yourself." Her eyes flicked to Dirk, betraying the fact that at this moment, she would love nothing more. She fell silent as he continued his tale, returning to her breakfast, concealing the small smile that crept across her face at Roerva's response. It was as she finished her meal, and was about to excuse herself from the table, when the owls arrived with the mail. Liz blinked in surprise as a letter dropped on her lap. She looked up, trying to find an owl she recognised, but there were so many owls to make it impossible.

Turning the envelope over, the hand writing brought a soft smile on her face as she tore through the seal of the envelope and pulled the parchment out. Her expression transformed, for a moment, into a frown before hardening into nothing once more. Folding it and placing it into her pocket, she rose to her feet, gathering her things. "Excuse me," she spoke softly to her fellow Ravenclaws, before leaving the Great Hall at a brisk pace, and from there she moved to the grounds. She waited until she was out of view of the castle doors before she broke out into a run towards the forest.

Breaking through the tree line, she slowed her pace so as not to fall, quickly reaching a clearing that she was most familiar with. In previous years, she would come here to meet with her brother, given the prejudice that surrounded inter-house relationships, even those of siblings. Here, she could relax, not worry about showing weakness. She smiled at the thought, moving to the centre of the clearing and sitting, eyes closed as the early morning rays began to light the area up.

It was only a few minutes later that the sound of approaching footsteps reached her ears. She rose to her feet, not turning around. "I hope you have a good explanation for this, dearest brother. Demanding to see me at such an early hour," her tone light, almost playful. In her hand, the letter.

It read

I must speak with you, face to face, now.

There was nothing else on the parchment.

There was silence and only then did Liz finally turn around, the smile on her face vanishing to be met with an expression of horror. "Anthony! What happened to you?!" Her brother was almost unrecognisable. His left eye was bruise and swollen, his nose was crooked as though it had been broken and poorly repaired, his hair was a mess and when he walked towards her, he limped quite heavily on his right foot. But there was something more than just his physical injuries, it was as though a light had gone out in him.

"This? It is nothing that I did not deserve." As he spoke, Liz saw he was missing a few teeth. "You could never deserve such a thing. You are too gentle to warrant such treatment." Anthony shook his head. "When Father commands me to do something, he is not to be disobeyed." Liz's expression changed rapidly from confusion to understanding to rage. "Father did this to you?! Then you have agreed? To join the Dark Lord's forces?" Anthony nodded once. Liz's fists clenched. "No. He cannot ... I will not let him get away with this. I'll write to him at once and ..." "No! You will say nothing to him! You shall keep your mouth shut and say nothing. It is too late for me. It is too late for you." Liz recoiled at his tone, his face transforming into a snarl she had never seen directed at herself.

"Your betrothed has been selected. Jack Prince." With those words, Anthony turned and walked away, disappearing into the forest without even a farewell wave or a smile. Liz stood there for minutes ... perhaps longer ... she could not tell. She felt as though the wind had been knocked out of her by a weight crushing her chest. Hands trembling, she reached into the pocket of her robe, withdrawing a packet of cigarettes, placing one at her lips and lighting it. She breathed in deeply, removing the cigarette from her lips to exhale and noting as she returned it to her lips that her hands were shaking and her cheeks were damp.


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Location :: Forbidden Forest :: Small clearing With :: Alone
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Sparkly Fairy

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Dom blinked as someone said his name. Looking up from his pumpkin juice, he saw Racy and smiled. "Good morning Racy." He held his bandaged hand up, before finally grabbing a slice of toast from the table. "After the week I've had, I could use a little cheer up to be honest." He bit into his toast and chewed quietly, thinking. Once his toast was gone, he turned back to Racy. "Had a bit of an accident in Potions, hence the bandages. Lucky the Matron even let me out today. She was going to keep me in another night." He smiled sheepishly.

He returned to staring at his pumpkin juice. Though in the same house as one another, Dom didn't speak to Racy much, given that she was a year older and her friends resided in Slytherin. That isn't to say that he disliked her. In fact he found her to be quite pleasant, but Dom wasn't exactly 'friends with Slytherins' material. He drained his goblet, placed it back on the table and watched as it magically refilled itself.

"So, how's Racy?" He glanced up at her, a smile tugging at his lips. "Been having a good week? Getting all your homework finished on time?" He chuckled softly. He reached back out to the food at the centre of the table, piling his plate high with bacon, scrambled eggs, sausages and more toast, his appetite returning from some mystic, hidden part of his brain. His stomach cried out for food that wasn't from the Hospital wing. Racy had only been sat besides him a few minutes, spoken a few words, and already he as feeling distracted, feeling better.

He began to eat.

The owls arrived with the post and Dom turned his face up expectantly. It had been over a week since he had heard anything from his parents. He waited and waited until the final owl had left before frowning and returning to his breakfast. He wasn't worried, he wasn't. They were probably visiting a relative or were busy or his letter had been lost in the mail. That's what he kept telling himself anyway. He made a note to send another letter after lunch.


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Location :: Great Hall :: Hufflepuff table With :: Racy
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Natasha smiled. "Excellent Maire, and of course you must call me Tasha." She smiled as she took the cigarette. "Thank you Maire. I normally do carry my own. I'm rather particular in what I smoke you see. However, I trust your judgement on this." She smiled, placing it between her lips and lighting it, taking a deep drag and sighing in relief. "Not bad." She smiled at Maire. She was silent, as she considered Maire's questions, and remained silent until she put out the butt on her plate.

"The French boys go crazy for anything with nice legs and breasts provided they dress in a way that draws attention. Short skirts, exposed cleavage, just a hint of stomach when you stretch your arms. French boys were far too easy." She smirked at the girl "Let's hope English boys are more of a challenge." She shot a grin at Edward, teasingly. "Would your attention be so easily bought, Edward?"

Returning her attention back to Maire, she thought a moment. "Well, the halls are large and draughty, the students are loud and rude, particularly the ... Gryffindors, the ones in red, and I find it impossible to locate any of my classes!" Tasha sighed dramatically. "That being said, the grounds are beautiful, especially when viewed from above, so I suppose that redeems some of the flaws." She grinned once more, knowing that the 'problems' she had listed really did not bother her at all.

"As for classes, who really likes them? They are the things that distract us from having any fun. Making us spend hours sat in rows, listening to some Professor waffle on and on, only to be given hours of work to do afterwards." She thought for a little while, before deciding her answer. "As Defence Against the Dark Arts gave the shortest essay to be handed in, I shall have to pick that one as my favourite. And I won't complain about the teaching assistant either."

Tasha turned to look around the hall in a sweeping glance. "I must confess something, Maire darling." She leaned across the table, lowering her voice as if divulging a great secret. "Calves just don't work for me. I'm an abs woman truly, and facial hair makes me weak at the knees." Leaning back into her seat, giggling softly, she took a drink, enjoying the company of her fellow Slytherin immensely. Placing the goblet down, her expression relaxed. "I admit, however, that I am taking a break from men. A ... nasty break up, shall we say, has put me right off them for the moment. Does not mean I cannot look at them, however." Her eyes shone mischievously.

"But come, Maire. I have talked quite enough. You are an attractive woman yourself, surely the men are dying for your attention. You simply must share all the details! Unless you have yourself a Beau already?" Her eyes flicked back to Edward. "And don't think I've forgotten you Edward. I shall be questioning you next!"


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Location :: Great Hall :: Slytherin table With :: Maire and Edward
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Tipsy Tycoon

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                                    "Ah, don't mention it, Kim--I'm no shrink, but hey, I try," said Dane. All too quickly, though, his smile faltered by a few degrees when the conversation took an unexpected turn.

                                    "It's a wonder you're still single."

                                    "Well, I..." Flustered and red in the face, he laughed nervously, stammered, rubbed at the back of his hair, and generally acted nothing like the devil-may-care junior-league criminal the whole school knew him to be.

                                    "Well, I don't think I could have any girl...geez, Kim, stop it or you're gonna inflate my ego, and don't you think that's big enough already?" He laughed nervously and tried to play it off before taking on a more sincere tone. "Besides, I don't think of it as being stuck with you. I was having fun. Y'know...until Mrs. Potter bit the dust." After that, pretty much everyone stopped having fun. It was kind of required of all non-sociopaths to be appropriately horrified when someone dropped dead in a room, and Dane could honestly say he met the requirement. He didn't live by the rules, but he still had his humanity. He wondered if Amycus Carrow could say the same...

                                    "What did you wait til the last minute when they were all taken?"

                                    His face flushed red again. If she only knew the truth--that the girl he'd wanted to go with had been asked out by another bloke, and she said yes. That the bloke in question was someone who Dane highly disapproved of, but even still, he couldn't bear to try and drive them apart--not like when his dormmates went after bad-news girls and he was the first to open up a can of I-told-you-so (Phillip and Dolohov! Dolohov!)

                                    Because here was the thing: this girl wasn't just his friend, not deep down in his heart. He--he loved her as more than that, and that meant that if there was even a chance she could be happy with the boy she loved, he wanted her to have it.

                                    "It's kind of hard to ask out girls when you're stuck in detention all week. I would've just skived, but Flitwick's onto my tricks now and he walked me there personally," he lied fluently with a convincing roll of his eyes.

                                    "Well, Kimberly-Lynn, for a so-called mess, you are remarkably put-together. Just try not to worry so much, yeah? For what it's worth, you know I'm always gonna be here whenever you need me," he said, then added, if a little grudgingly, "I'm sure if you just ask Carrow what happened, he'll explain everything. If he's capable of speech, that is." He glanced away and stifled a snort. "And come on, you can't tell me I'm the only one who thinks that whole silent thing he's got going on is at least a little creepy?"

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                                ▇ ▇▇ ▇▇▇ ▇▇▇▇▇▇ THESE WORDS ARE KNIVES THAT OFTEN LEAVE SCARS ▇▇▇▇▇
                                THE FEAR OF FALLING APART.

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XXXPrudence McKayla BakerXXXXXX


                                                        Garretts disdain for the Daily Prophet was one that Billie met with every day that she walked into the office. The things that the ministry was worried about reporting on where things that either did not matter or could have been done in a much kinder way. "Yes, well, they are persistent for sure it comes with the job I guess. The Daily Prophet is a big name in this kind of career though and I mean if I want to do well it's a good place to start." she defended her job. Her reason for being at this paper and not another, like Witch Weekly or even the Quibbler was because of her name really.

                                                        A Dolohov cannot work at some run down place like the Quibbler... She reminded herself in her own words of what her Step-Father had said about her getting a job. It was because of him she was at the prophet, and she had to remember that. It wasn't a terrible idea though, she did have good opportunity to go far here.

                                                        Garrett agreed to spending some time together right now and despite the fact that she shouldn't, Billie couldn't help but grin a little bit when he said yes. Immediately she started looking for a table to sit at. Once they were seated in a secluded table in the corner did he address the topic at hand. Making her blush when he said he was All her's. She said nothing on that comment though.

                                                        She felt so unprepared, no quill, parchment, but this wasn't supposed to be a official anyway so she'd manage. "I'll keep all that in mind, honestly, I mean mostly the prophet wants to know what it's like, in your department, what you do, how you think it's helping the war. All questions that I'd need to write the answers down too of course when we have a real interview and not this mock one in the corner here." she teased, brushing some of her hair back as she took a sip of her coffee now that it was cooling. The to-go cup pointless since they had decided to stay.


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Devoted Friend

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XXXXKimberly-Lynn Lorna KencekXXXXX



                                                        Dane always seemed to get flustered when Kim would talk about him being with a girl, and usually she'd brush it off. He was always like that, but sometimes it made her wonder why. She never even really remembered him going on more than one date with a girl, if talking to any girls even got that far. If he wasn't getting into trouble then he was spending time with her and it made her feel bad in a way. She didn't want to be keeping him from other things.

                                                        He tried to cover it up though, brushing her words off, saying she was being silly practically for even suggesting that he could be on a date with another girl instead of just hanging out with her like this. If she wasn't so distracted by her own selfish thoughts of what had happened with her and Amycus then she probably would have addressed it, but she didn't.

                                                        Just like she didn't notice the pained expressions he was giving her when she looked over the lake. If only she had, then these conversations might have been going differently, she wouldn't be obsessing over Amycus and instead having a real conversation with Dane, but she wasn't.

                                                        "Well, maybe if you didn't get yourself stuck in detention then you would have had a date to the ball, oh well, there is always the next one right?" she said, shrugging her shoulders as she started to pick a part of blade of grass.

                                                        Cringing as Dane called her by her full name, it was that statement that made her look up at him again as he went on telling her how put together she was. She almost laughed, not believing him, because how could someone so broken come off as put together? She had no idea.

                                                        "I know you're going to be here whenever, you're a great friend and have always been there for me Dane. I try not to worry, especially with you around because you're always here for me. Sometimes I wonder if it's my fault that you don't date." she said with a laugh, trying to make a joke out of it even though it was something she wondered occasionally. Then he brought up speaking to Amycus and she frowned again. Looking back down at the blade of grass that had fallen apart in her hand. She let it fall to the ground before picking another piece up and nodding her head at him finally.

                                                        "You're right, you're always right. I should just talk to him. We've been friends forever, and there shouldn't be a reason I couldn't talk to him...but yes, like you and everyone else around here likes to joke about, it is true, he doesn't talk much and no that does not make him creepy, it makes it difficult, but not creepy. You're the creep for noticing." she teased, leaning over and and poking him for fun. Grinning, she decided then that she would try to do as he suggested and not worry about it right now, and instead decided to try and distract herself by poking him again, in a spot she knew might be ticklish, and again.


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