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  1. Today
  2. Penelope Ng

    VH39 Reverse Mentoring

    Alayna Weasley is mine !
  3. Oliver Strausser

    the name game

    Gerald Arden
  4. Yesterday
  5. Annag Hamblton

    VH39 Reverse Mentoring

    Idina Lordanau please
  6. Xenia Lupu-Haidei

    VH39 Reverse Mentoring

    Ava Winchester for me pls.
  7. Damaris Denton

    VH39 Reverse Mentoring

    Dove Lightwood
  8. Emilio Ng

    Please Validate This Account

    Thank you. I got the validation email !
  9. Margarleon Turpentine

    VH39 Reverse Mentoring

    Adopt a Seventh Year Reverse Mentoring Yes, there aren't many seventh years but we all love them, right? Why yes we do. So we need to make their last days at Hogwarts the best they can be! And that’s why I propose that everyone choose a seventh year and RP with them (throwing them a party, bringing them gifts, helping them locate the things they lost over the years, etc.). It doesn’t have to be a lot of work, it can just be simple such as making sure they sign the wall in the Trophy Room or bringing them breakfast in bed (which could be a little creepy, but you get my point). You can also adopt in pairs (two younger students both adopting a seventh year and doing something for them together). Everyone should claim one/two seventh year(s) at a time. If it gets to the point where this is going slow, you can adopt another one. [This is brought to you by Beth Golden and has been stolen by a lot of different people who have run it since.] THIS IS REALLY LATE IN BEING POSTED SO CLAIM AND START THREADS QUICKLY, 'KAY? :3 CURRENT SEVENTH YEARS: Gryffindor: Alayna Weasley Alecia Yates Ava Winchester Nolan Calperin Ryan Buratsche Hufflepuff: Cordelia Waldegrave Damien Belizaire Delia Halliwell-Midnight Ethan Smith Margarleon Turpentine Siobhan Arden Ravenclaw: Anton Hunter Connie Warren Cora Ives Dane Golden-Keisi Drew Golden-Keisi Mason Fluke Millie Winchester Morty Gabor Sophia Hunter Slytherin: Abi Slater Dove Lightwood Idina Iordanau Luke Ferranti Seras Abienne Sibella Moreau Tate Ng Tiberius Fudge When a seventh year is claimed, they will be struck out and their claimer's name will be put next to them. Total Seventh Years: 27 Seventh Years Unclaimed: 26 So everyone, post claiming a seventh year, and I will edit it in!
  10. Leah Princeley

    Please Validate This Account

    Hi can you please send the validation email for Emilio Ng please!
  11. Julian Pritchard

    in the clear light of day down here, everyone's a monster

    Behati didn’t really answer his question. She merely rephrased it, and Julian found himself immediately regretting having started the conversation. He winced at her words, at the way she laid his worst fear bare in the crudest possible terms. Gritting his teeth slightly, he looked away, hoping momentarily for an excuse to leave. None was forthcoming, of course. He bit his lip. “Yes,” he said mildly. “I suppose I do.” He fiddled with the strap between his fingers. “That’s actually very unlikely- I mean, it’s very unlikely that just one of us would-- “ He shook his head lightly, unable to bring himself to repeat the words she’d used. They stuck in the back of his throat, refusing to be spoken. “All of us would be practically impossible. It’d probably take someone actively sabotaging the potion and the wards.” He pursed his lips, suddenly feeling acutely silly for having mentioned it at all. It was something he worried about sometimes, when he was lying awake late at night. He didn’t think it was likely or anything, but with no information about how the werewolves had gotten in during the November full moon, his mind refused to rule it out. It was certainly not the kind of thing he wanted Behati to think about. He tried changing tack. “They watch us, you know, drink the potion. It’s not like we can just... not.” His cheeks warmed at that particular admission. It always felt slightly humiliating, trying to force down the bitter liquid while someone watched on. It made him feel like he wasn’t trusted, which of course was exactly the case. It made perfect sense that the school staff would want to make sure, and Julian found comfort in the idea whenever he worried about one of the other kids not taking their potion. It felt galling nonetheless.
  12. June 3rd, 2042 Slytherin Third Year Dorm Room Nearly seven months had passed since the unspeakable. Scars had healed and faded, arm bones had mended, trauma settled deep into the subconscious — all this, indeed, was true. But on the nights of the full moon, though now it was June and the wind was warm, November a forgotten ghost, though the term was nearly over, when the moon shone brightest in the clear Scottish sky, Radueriel Benson couldn’t force himself to sleep. If Simon were a Slytherin, things probably would have been alright. Rad could have snuck up into his boyfriend’s dorm and curled against his tall, warm body. Were werewolves actually to break in again and attack, the gangly older boy would provide no more protection than a sheet of paper. But in the stolen moments between classes where the two boys clung to one another, Rad felt as safe as he ever did. Instead, the pair was forced to spend their nights as far apart as was feasible in the sprawling castle, the tiny Slytherin condemned to the depths while Simon slept in the aerie practically miles away. They tended to use their two-way mirrors too frequently already, but on the full moon nights they kept the connection on long after they both managed to pass out, faces propped up on pillows. Rad tried to keep his voice soft, but he didn’t really respect any of his roommates enough to care whether they could sleep. Nearly seven months, and Rad still needed it. Nearly seven months, and his fingers still trembled a little when the glinting moon caught on the surface of the lake, sending shafts of silver light down into the slanting jade water outside the window. It was a good thing, actually, that Simon wasn’t here in the room with him; he could control what his boyfriend saw, could make sure the Ravenclaw didn’t catch on to anything worth worrying over. This alone was probably why Simon had fallen asleep already, but Rad didn’t mind. He lay there, wide awake, taking in the peaceful sight of the other boy asleep. If he tore his eyes away from the cheekbones and that floppy quiff of hair, the panic would overwhelm him. It was too easy to fall backwards into the Great Hall, where hot rotten breath forever warmed his face, where the weightless moment in which the wolf flung him through the air lasted forever. At long last he dozed into fitful sleep; his dreams frenzied at him as though they wished for freedom from his skull. When he woke, the room was still dark, and the gasping memory of the night terrors vanished, leaving only disorientation in their wake. Rad blinked his eyes groggily, unwilling to sit upright. In the mirror on his pillow he could see only a brambled thicket of Simon’s dark hair. He forced himself to steady his breathing. He was safe. There were no werewolves here, just his awful roommates. Rad shifted onto his side beneath the blankets, ready to return to sleep and dreams that hopefully were more peaceful. Before he could close his eyes he heard the sound of movement and realized with a start that bolted him upright in bed, the way electric currents shock a muscle into stiffness, that it wasn’t the nightmares after all which had woken him up. Someone else was in the room, standing at the foot of his bed. Sleep clung wretchedly to his voice as he called out into the darkness a quavering, “Hello?”
  13. Dax Gordon

    the things that you've got coming will consume you

    Rad tried to speed them up—figuratively, literally—and Dax became a drag parachute inflated behind them. He let the younger boy falter and press, let him have the pretense of his fail safes for the half-second it took the gears to grind them into place and then took a hammer to them. "We're all going to breakfast, Benson. Or to study, or to paint outside." Smash, the rusted cogs that told Radueriel that his presence would raise flags. "There's no hurry." Smash, the toothed wheels that pressed time against them. Dax was in control—all of this was about him being in control and letting Rad figure that out for himself, eventually. The painted-doll grin stayed even, pinned as it was, and his eyes gleamed bright. "I didn't, but I do now." They were nearing people again, much as Dax tried to stall them. He squeezed Rad's shoulder, gently, like a friend might, then folded away from the younger boy with a two-fingered salute. "I'll catch you after lessons. We can hang out," he called as he backed away. "I'll swing through and find you." Later that day, then later than month, then later that year. Dax would keep finding him until their karmic interactions were evened, and there wasn't much of anything little Radueriel Benson could do aside from removing himself from existence, and, even then, Dax would find a way. Dax Gordon was inevitable.
  14. Radueriel Benson

    the things that you've got coming will consume you

    A pressure storm was building in the space between Rad's eyes. If Dax's cruelty was unwelcome, his kindness was unbearable. It seemed as though every smile would crack into a snarl, and each passing day the waiting tension pushed him closer and closer to the breaking point. Things were so bad that he even considered telling Simon about it, but each time he considered doing so the thought of how utterly humiliating it would be to reveal how powerless and weak he was stayed his hand. After the events of November, Simon looked at him a certain way, a way he did not deserve but loved anyway. He wasn't about to ruin that over some paranoia about a bully. Besides. When Dax was out of sight, Dax was out of mind. The tiny Slytherin certainly had enough else going on to occupy his attention -- classes to pass and all that, for he was a student at this wretched school, after all. Though the niggling voice of worry in the back of his head was a constant companion now, his brain could ignore it the way it tuned out his nose when peering through his eyes. Of course, when the Sixth Year did materialize, that voice became a lot tougher to quiet. The very sight of Dax made Rad freeze for half a second, wondering in terror whether this would be the moment in which the friendly facade at last shattered, sending shards to pierce his skin. No, though, there was the toothy grin that didn't quite reach the eyes. God, he hated the sight of it. But this was paranoia. Not even Dax could have the patience to play a game this long, right? It was just his brain, fractured by the events of last November and never truly put back together thanks to the negligence of this institution, convinced that danger lurked around every corner. If Dax was really going to do something to him, he would have done it already. He needed to keep telling himself that. The danger wasn't real. The older boy was unpleasant and would remain so, but the danger wasn't real. So when Dax wrapped an arm around him, clamping him tight to his side and slowing to a near-halt that left the two of them in the corridor even when the rest of the breakfast-bound Slytherins were long ascended, Rad tried to quell the panic in his breast. The danger isn't real, he told himself. You're safe and Simon's waiting in the Great Hall. "I was just going to breakfast," he said, gesturing as best as he could with his arms pinned by the other boy's embrace at the cloud of students that had just vanished. "I'm meeting my buddy there." Rad's words were as pointed as he could make them, for he couldn't entirely master his impulse of fear: I am expected elsewhere, he was saying. If you kill me, they will notice I am gone. Never let anybody say that Radueriel Benson wasn't dramatic af. "Uh, no," he answered, a little belatedly. It was Monday, and all that was to be done was go to class and then maybe -- MAYBE -- find somewhere to study while Simon did the same. "No plans." Why didn't he lie? What use was honesty here? He found himself wishing that his social life hadn't more or less collapsed to include merely Simon and Simon alone, not because he was lonely or cared an iota about the classmates whose lives had faded to inconsequential white noise, but because they would provide another layer of protection between him and the paranoia personified that was Dax Gordon. "Why?" Rad asked, tugging a little to try and get the two of them upstairs faster. "Do you?"
  15. Willa Henry

    Don't know what a mess that i make of my days

    Willa nodded, not really sure how Knaggs had managed to get a position in the first place. She couldn't imagine him even being polite enough to survive an interview, but then again, Professor Grimsby seemed to sleep through most of their lessons anyways. "How about a cheering charm then? I'm surprised they were okay hiring such a jerk, but maybe the school was desperate to fill the position?" She offered, her mind jumping to the fact that Hogwarts probably couldn't keep staff because it kept getting attacked. Maybe that was why there were so many ghosts in Hogwarts? Speaking of which: "Did you see that the dueling chamber has a ghost as a dueling officiator? Maybe they just don't get good applicants..." Willa didn't mean to equate Knaggs with Madam Tibbles because she would take the ghost any day. Despite her tendency to fall asleep or run off chasing some floating denture set, Willa still found it incredible that ghosts actually existed and could interact with the living. Her Gran's house, though magical and with all sorts of creatures lurking in the grounds, did not have ghosts (They were incredibly dated, her Gran had said), so living in a magical castle with ghosts made Willa feel like she was living one of the stories out of the muggle books her mum used to read her before she knew magic was real. "Speaking of dueling, have you learned anymore elementals this year? I've finally figured out the shocking hex..." Willa beamed, only partially bragging, but also curious. Pine was only one of two students in their year that she'd heard had interest in the elementals as a whole, and she hadn't seen him around the dueling chamber much.
  16. Rayya Borage-Brown

    A Working Dinner

    “I’d very much like to hear it,” Rayy replied, “I’m all ears in fact!” The werewolf students being bullied was, sadly, only to be expected and how the staff dealt with that wasn’t in the purview of the Aurors. As much as it was distressing there wasn’t much she could do without some serious stepping on toes. “So your professors aren’t handling it well?” she asked. “You two girls can pipe in any time too, I’m interested in what you all have to say.” She gave Annag’s shoulder a gentle squeeze to keep the youngster’s spirits up as they continued down the corridor. Her brain mulled over the implications of rampant bullying even as she scanned the area for any sign of danger. An uncomfortable idea started forming as the two seemingly seperate things - bullying and vandalism - came together. They’d already got enough evidence to indicate that the vandalism wasn’t being perpetrated by a student but if she were right...well motive was a big thing. But first she needed more intel that they were unlikely to get another chance to obtain. Another scan of the corridor indicated little in the way of a threat so she acted. ”Stop for a moment, please,” she asked and waited for the group to face her, “Would you say the bullying is worse after the vandalism events? That it seems to ignite the fear and hatred against the infected students? And do you think it’s bad enough that those students might decide not to return next year or that they might run away before then?” Rayy was almost too scared to hear the trio’s opinions on her questions but she desperately needed to know because she’d just done the maths and didn’t like the results.
  17. Dax Gordon

    the things that you've got coming will consume you

    April 28th, 2042 Outside Slytherin's Dungeons Feigning niceties for a month and a half had Dax's skin raw, baby pink and stinging in the creases. The smile he saved just for Rad Benson wore too high and too tight and showed too many teeth but he wore it well. Believably at least, he thought, the more he used it. It almost felt natural when it slot-machined into place in time for Rad to round the corner out of the common room and be caught, alone and vulnerable; just as Dax had been hoping to catch him. "No buddy, huh?" Dax peeled his prickling skin from the dungeon walls and punched himself right into the hole that Simon Reed would surely be filling beside Benson later—if, that was, the younger boy could find a way to shake the jaws clamped around him. Or, rather, the leather-clad arm that was thrown without abandon around his shoulders. "Me either. Guess it'll be you and me for a while." Dax refused to match the pace Radueriel originally set. He slowed, lumbered, kept the smaller boy at his side as their schoolmates split around them until the corridor was nearly clear. "You got plans later, Benson?"
  18. Jack Dare

    O Captain! My Captain! rise up and hear the bells

    Jack kept his gaze lowered and locked on his one good hand resting over the splinted one in his lap. Without noticing he had begun to rock. Julian hadn't said anything after 'That’s good' and though his tone had not been convincing Jack willed himself to be convinced. 'That's good' he repeated in his mind. 'It's good. Everything is good.' He didn't look up though. I didn't want confirmation for what he was afraid he already knew. 'Please don't say it,' he thought. 'Don't say anything. Don't make it real.' “Jack---” Jack closed his eyes tightly, just as he had as a tiny boy when he wanted to shut out bad things. If my eyes are closed, the monsters can't see me, he'd reasoned. Only in this case the 'monster' was something else entirely and there was nothing Jack could do to shut out his mentor's words. As soon as Julian said "bit me" Jack's eyes began to sting. He tried to hold it back, but his face crumpled and he convulsed with the effort. Choking on his sobs Jack stood and awkwardly threw himself at Julian in what would have been a hug if either boy had had free arm movement. As it was, it was more like Jack throwing himself into Julian's lap and smacking him with his splint. "I--I'm so s-sorry," Jack managed to choke out. "I d-didn't know."
  19. Radueriel Benson

    the things that you've got coming will consume you

    The sound of a chair scraping across the floor pulled Rad up out of his daze. For a second it seemed as though his dream-like worry had bled from his mind into reality, but the strong whiff of a clearly recognizable Obnoxious Masculine Cologne™ made it painfully apparent that this was real and this was happening. Rad stared at Dax, stoic and stiff, no idea what to say to the older Slytherin. The words were English, and if he lingered over them long enough to piece the syllables into sentences he would probably be able to figure out what Dax had said, but the tone in which they were wrapped was so foreign out of that fetid mouth that the Sixth Year may well have been speaking Sanskrit. "I..." he said, confused. The confusion roiled up in him -- when he knew what to expect, when he knew that Dax would be lurking and menacing and maybe just a little bit sad in his unerring commitment to whatever long game he was playing, he could feel a modicum of control over the situation. But this was new, and this kindness was more staggeringly painful to bear than any cruelty, because the honey was so sweet as to burn the tongue, but any attempt to shred its thin fibers to reveal the jagged bone beneath would make him look like an arsehole. He had no power here, no way to turn Dax away, nothing to do but let the older boy toy with him and grin all the while. "Um, yeah," Rad finally settled on, cheeks burning bright red with the utter humiliation of it all. His eyes flicked from the face across him to the page opened and unread before him. Maybe if he willed it hard enough, the older boy would melt into the carpet like the wicked witch caught in a thunderstorm.
  20. IC: Getting to Know You and Brainstorming Session Follow 0 Jack had been shocked at how many people has signed up to be members of P.A.W. and at how many of those who signed up were upperclassmen. It made him nervous as a first year (and a very small first year at that) to have to lead a meeting. For that reason he'd put it off as long as possible. However, now that he'd committed to the club hosting a werewolf talk he really couldn't put it off any longer. Jack bit is lip as he walked to the head of the classroom where the meeting was scheduled and attempted to stand behind the podium. He realized immediately he should have tried this before the meeting started, since the podium completely hid him from the seated participants. It was a good thing he hadn't planned to read from his notes. Jack stepped out from behind the podium and cleared his throat. "Um, Hello there," he said tentatively. "Hello." Surprisingly conversation died down. Jack cleared his throat again and then began speaking. "We are pals and allies of werewolves," he said. "We are here today to stand united and to declare our commitment to equality and good fellowship among all peoples. For those of you who don't know me. I'm Jack Dare and I'm the founder of this club. However, the club is just a name without all of us coming together." Jack paused. It probably would have been better if there was applause here, he thought. He'd have to read more about inspirational speeches and figure out how that was done. "Okay then. I thought we should keep this first meeting casual, and, you know, just get to know each other. So I thought each of us could introduce ourselves with the following three things: First tell us your name. Then tell us why you decided to become a member of P.A.W. Lastly, what sorts of things would you like to see us do. The last can be as big or small as you like. There are no bad suggestions. I will write all or them down and then maybe at a future meeting we can discuss them all further." "So I'll go first. As I said before I'm Jack Dare. I want to be part of P.A.W. because some of the best people I know are werewolves." He glanced at @Julian Pritchard here and blushed. "And so when my dad told me about that radio lady and what she'd done and about the horrible things people were saying, I just wanted to do something to be able to show my friends that they were still my friends and that lycanthropy hadn't changed that. That, in a nutshell, is why I'm here." "As for my idea, we will be hosting an information session next weekend called Wolves Speak where a couple of members of the club have volunteered to talk first hand about what it's like to have lycanthropy. I have other ideas, but that's the most important one I can think of now." "So...So that's me. Who would like to go next?" OOC: Straight forward. This is a Getting to Know You club meeting. RP with 1) Name, 2) Why you joined P.A.W. 3) An idea. Ideas need not be feasible. This is mostly just an IC open role-play.
  21. Julian Pritchard

    O Captain! My Captain! rise up and hear the bells

    “I understood what you meant,” muttered Julian in response to Jack’s awkward attempts to clarify what he’d been getting at. He could imagine he would’ve felt much the same way. He wasn’t sure how he felt about the dead werewolf, other than queasy, but he was certain a dead student would’ve been infinitely worse - even though he thought that might be unfair to the wolf. Jack almost jumped to answer his question, and Julian let out a breath he hadn’t realised he was holding. He was happy to hear it, of course - Jack shouldn’t have to deal with something like that - but he was suddenly acutely conscious of that hollow feeling that came over him whenever he thought about his condition. It took some effort to nod along as Jack asked about the uniform. It had been a funny realisation that even Mira was a few inches taller than Jack. He was surprised to hear his mentee had kept the uniform, though perhaps he shouldn’t have been. Jack was cautious, and flying was dangerous. The irony of Jack’s broken arm elicited a light chuckle from him. The image of his bones breaking to bits was not a pleasant one, but Jack was smiling and he was going to fine. And then Jack reassured him that he wouldn’t be turning into a monster and the smile fell from Julian’s face. He didn’t speak for a moment, unsure what to say. The word ‘monster’ had sent a cold feeling trickling down his back. Everything felt like it had slowed down. It occurred to him that Jack was the first person he’d spoken to since he’d been in the Hospital Wing who didn’t know. The seconds stretched on and Julian realised that Jack probably would guess something was wrong if he didn’t say something soon. He cleared his throat. “Right, yeah. That’s good.” He tried to keep his voice light as he forced the words out, but he found he couldn’t quite meet Jack’s eyes. He contemplated changing the subject. He liked Jack quite a bit; the younger boy often reminded him of himself. He didn’t want to be something scary to him, especially not when his job was to help him and make sure he was okay. But he also didn’t want to lie to him. And now that they were on the subject, avoiding the truth seemed an awful lot like lying. He took a deep breath. “Jack,” he said, trying to keep his voice steady. “You should probably know that the werewolf that hurt me, it... uh… bit me?” His voice broke a little as he spoke the last two words, and he had to clench his jaw momentarily before he continued. “But it doesn’t-- It won’t-- I mean... do you know what wolfsbane is?”
  22. Simon Reed

    the stars come out of hiding for you, and i do too

    He might have as well admitted it right there and then, ‘I like you, I really really like you’ and for the life of him, he couldn’t understand why he hadn’t yet. The carpet, understandably, had no wisdom to offer. Maybe it was because he felt completely out of his element… not that he was some sort of master flirt or anything, but because the only other experiences he’d had, had only been with girls. Did that matter? He’d have to do some research, or ask somebody with greater knowledge, because he couldn’t differentiate whether Rad was currently blushing because he was flattered or because he straight up was embarrassed about being friends with him. Simon scratched distractedly at the tightly woven fibers, their respective blushes slowly dissipating as the Slytherin silently mulled over his latest question. “An island?” he questioned, his brows raising with intrigue. He would have gone with buying a cooler wardrobe, or a kick arse broom, but of course Rad would have a more creative answer. “Hell yes! I’d totally tag along. I’d probably look like a lobster after the first day… but swimming, sipping on coconuts and playing in the sand, sounds brilliant.” he murmured, closing his eyes for a few seconds as he imagined the blazing sun shining down on them as they laid side-by-side on the beach. He could almost smell the briny sea just a few feet away... “Hmm, chocolate. Hands down. Just give me a peppermint toad or a chocolate frog…” he blinked up at the teen with a small grin, “Or you know, a chat… a hot cuppa tends to do the trick sometimes too.” he shrugged, thinking that a day at the beach would probably work just as well. “Back to the island bit… like, what kind of rules would you make just to break them?” ‘Why have any rules at all?’ he wondered to himself.
  23. Lian Dracel-Cortes

    • Lian Dracel-Cortes
    •   
    • Killian Dracel

    ❤️

    1. Killian Dracel

      Killian Dracel

      ❤️

  24. Professor Grimsby

    I'm the kind of kid that can't let anything go

    Although previously, Grim had spent 90% of his life in underbelly of Hogwarts, he found that now that he had a bit of natural light in his classroom, his trips to the potions lab took on a misty, dark quality. It was ominous, really. And not just because they'd kind of replaced him with a pirate. So it wasn't a surprise when he stumbled upon raised voices and some agitated armor. These things just seemed to happen in the dungeons. "I better not hear what I think I'm hearing," he announced as he rounded a shadowy corner, "It's entirely possible, of course, I am a bit of a dinosaur, so please, tell me I'm not hearing spells, slugs, and shenanigans." They'd better come up with something good. "Oh, and the first person to put their wand away gets to speak first." And maybe he'd consider cancelling the hexes. Maybe.
  25. Jeramie Slater

    You are more than what you have become

    Jeramie looked up with pleading eyes as he waited for his dad's answer. He had said his piece, even if it had ended up a much shorter speech than the one he'd been imagining. Now that the words were out there he knew that his last strand of hope was out and vulnerable, thin and wavering, ready to be severed with one two letter word. Instead, his dad tousled his hair, and told him 'let's go talk'. Hesitantly, Jeramie followed. He didn't know if that was a good sign or a bad one, but it wasn't a no...not yet. 'Let's go talk' meant that maybe there was a chance. It meant that maybe he was going to be listened to. As they left his parents' bedroom, he half expected he was going to be led to his own to be tucked back in bed, but instead his father gently prodded him towards the kitchen. This was a surprise, and Jeramie walked the way. It was dark in the house, though that was not something that Jeramie had ever feared. He had struggled just a little in the attack's immediate aftermath, but that hadn't lasted long. Now, the darker the better - no moon. Nevertheless he kept holding his pillow, even if it didn't provide him much relief. As they arrived in the kitchen, Jeramie instinctively walked over to his chair and took a seat at the table. He watched his dad take out some mugs. His dad knew his way around a kitchen, but Jeramie didn't feel like having anything - even if hot cocoa (which it seemed from the milk in the pot his dad was about to make) was something he had always loved. He didn't take his eyes off his dad's face, anxiously awaiting what he was going to say. He had brought Jeramie here, instead of to bed. He was serious then, about talking. Jer held onto the faintest glimmer of hope. When his dad finally did speak, Jeramie didn't know what to make of it exactly. He said that he could understand why Jeramie didn't want to go. That sounded like it was a step towards coming to an understanding. But the reason he said had been conspicuously missing from Jeramie's own argument. "Well...Yes," Jer looked back down at the table although there was nothing there, nodded his head and went quiet. If he had to talk about it then he had to talk about it. Without even raising his eyes he spoke. "Everybody's gonna know," he said quietly. "They already do. It was on the radio. We heard it. Other people heard it. And if one person knows, everybody knows." The second he showed up at the train station they'd all be staring at him, whispering, probably worse than that. It had been hard being at school and keeping it a secret, constantly feeling sure they suspected, or being scared that if they didn't they'd find out soon...now he would give anything to have that back. Back when he still had a secret to be scared of. Now it was everybody else who was going to be afraid. "I just can't Dad, I don't want to. It's better that I don't." He curled his feet up onto the chair, feeling the sickness once more.
  26. Last week
  27. Bayleigh Dorland-Nece

    A Little Party Never Killed Nobody

    All was quiet on Accio Hope that morning. As the dawning sun rose above the horizon, the plethora of animals there rested peacefully in their temporary (or not so temporary, depending on their individual cases) homes. A pile of newborn kneazles nestled together by their mother, competing for milk. And a young girl, barely ten, lay snuggled up in the hay beside them. She’d stayed up into the wee hours of the morning, watching the mother kneazle carefully as she gave birth. ‘What if something happens?!’ she’d questioned her parents, “I can’t just leave her. She needs me.” And after much debate, they’d finally relented and let her stay up past her bedtime for the event. Separating Bayleigh Lynn from any animal, especially one in ‘need’, was a lost cause; even if it meant her sleeping out in the barn. The girl slumbered on as some of the resident creatures began to stir. Two small pygmy puffs bounced about just outside the barn doors, competing for the scrap of breakfast their savior, one Kristen Dorland-Nece, had gifted them. Their squeaks filled the air as they continued to encroach on the space, eventually bounding inside and conking the unconscious brunette in the head. She stirred with the collusion, a pair of bleary eyes opening to stare puzzled at the animals before her. “…Franklin?” she whispered. She watched the fluffy beast for a good few moments as it continued to bounce and roll in the hay. Its other pygmy friend, Princess Sunny Wiggles, quickly joined in with the chaos and scattered hay and dirt about as they continued doing whatever it was pygmies did. “You two are weird.” Pushing herself up to a sitting position, Bayleigh turned to look out the doors. A bright light trickled in and made her have to squint a little. She yawned… and then, a very important fact popped into her brain. “I’M TEN TODAY!” Bounding up faster than a kitten fleeing cucumbers, Bay sprint right out the barn doors and up the hill to her family’s home and got right up to the door before she suddenly came to a crashing halt. For, no. Running was what children did and a child she was no longer. Officially and for the next three years, she was a pre-teen. Mature. Better. Best. And so, Bayleigh threw her disheveled hair back behind her shoulders, took a deep breath, and strut forth with all the poise and maturity she imagined any fantastic, mature, amazing person would have within them. “Hello, mum” she chimed as she walked past the kitchen, “Nice day, isn’t it?”
  28. Do you ever feel like you were the sorting hat in a former life? Are you good at writing rhymes or limericks? Is it your life's dream to write a song that you think the sorting hat would sing? If you answered yes to any of the above, or if you just want to help out the site, please read on to find out more! We are looking for sorting songs for the sorting hat to sing on sorting night. The sorting songs are an important part of Harry Potter canon and are part of what makes the sorting on VH so magical. So, if you think you want to give writing one a whirl, now is the time! If your song isn't selected for this year's sorting, please know that we keep sorting songs on hand to use in later sortings, and it might still be used later down the line. For every submission I receive in the next month (until June 22nd), I will be sending out a shop prize for your efforts. However, for the person whose song I use in this sorting, I will be giving a EXTREMELY RARE, VERY SPECIAL, UBER CUTE SCRIMGICORN! I will also reward a Scrimgicorn to anyone whose song I use, even if it's not this year as a thank you for your contribution to the magic of sorting. If that isn't enough for you, I don't know what else to offer you. So please exercise your creativity! All songs should be submitted to me, Scrimgeour, by June 22nd.
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