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Post by intentional on Feb 13, 2019 17:41:51 GMT -5
Wake up… Wake up… WAKE UP!
Lia’s body shook as her two younger sisters, Ally and Alice, sat on her to wake her up. Her rooftop window was open, letting in the natural sunlight to her small attic room of their home. She let out a small grunt as she playfully pushed off her sisters from her bed, careful to not let their heads hit the diagonal ceiling. She rubbed her face as she slowly made her bed and got ready for another first day at Hogwarts.
Her sisters were yelling at her from downstairs to hurry up as the girl fought the sleep from her body as she freshened up. The house was always an uproar on the first day of school, especially since Ally, who had started to display magical powers, was getting excited to start at Hogwarts. Her parents, being muggles, wanted their youngest daughter to start at the magical school, but Lia knew that it might not be necessarily safe for her sister to attend Hogwarts. But because the Ministry was taking action, Lia hoped that the situation with You-Know-Who would be taken care of before Ally turned eleven. And she hadn’t had the heart to tell her sister about the looming threat of the Dark Lord because she knew it would crush the young girl’s dreams of going to a magic school because her parents would definitely not let her attend.
“You have to hurry with your breakfast or you’ll miss the Hogwarts Express!” Ally giggled, standing up on her chair.
“Ally, sit down.” Alec muttered, still groggy and tired. “You do this every year.”
“I’ll do it every year until I get to go to Hogwarts!” Ally said, blowing raspberries at the second eldest before running out of the kitchen.
“You have everything packed, right, Lia?” Her mother asked.
“Yeah. That’s why I stayed up so late packing last night.” Lia sighed as she ate her eggs. She scarfed down the breakfast as she heard honking from the front door, signaling Lucas’s impatience.
“Better get going, or Luke’s gonna get mad.” Alice grinned at her older sister.
“I’ll see you during the holidays.” Lia said, poking her sister’s forehead before running out the door with her things.
Her eldest brother merely rolled his eyes as he watched his clumsy sister stumble on the sidewalk before running into the passenger’s seat, and he stepped on the gas towards King’s Cross just in time for Lia to board the train and wave at her goodbye.
Lia met up with her friends at their designated train compartment and the laughter, giggles and whispers of gossip raked throughout their entire trip towards Hogwarts. It was her sixth year, and although the shadows of the Dark Lord were looming over the magical community, nothing could stop Lia and her friends’ laughter as they told each other funny stories of what had happened that summer.
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Post by shades on Feb 13, 2019 19:29:18 GMT -5
Once there was a boy named Nixon.
He woke up abruptly, without sound or movement aside from his bright blue eyes snapping open, converting from sleep to full awareness in less than a second. He wasn’t startled, or frightened, or anything more than perfectly comfortable and slightly drowsy; he simply woke, and stared at the crumpled silk sheets under his summer tanned cheek. He noted the state of his comforter, sliding off his body and dipping onto the floor, the way his muscles were stiff in some places and aching in others; his breath puffed and feathered out as he sat up with a stretch like a cat. His dirty blond hair was rumpled and bent in ways it wasn’t meant to go; his leg was still asleep but jostling awake slowly.
The too large house was quiet; his parents were out, they haven’t attended Nixon to King’s Cross since third year at Hogwarts. It was September 1st; Nixon Lewis would arrive on platform 9 ¾’s with a crack as the house elf named Dimbley apparated them on time, as the train whistled for its students to board and find a seat.
Dimbley, chatty as she was, would mention to young master how unruly and uncivilised he looked; with limp flannel hanging over one shoulder and a owl tucked under the other arm. His wand between his ear like a pen should perch, and were those holes in the soles of his shoes? Dimbley insisted he send them back to her immediately on arrival to Hogwarts (he promised, because if he didn’t she would insist he take them off then and there to be fixed). She would make sure his luggage was light and easy to move around despite being stuffed to the brim with clothes and books, still talking in “sir’s” and large orbs looking up with kindness; the train whistle would blow again.
Nixon shrugged a little and stepped back, hands hooking in his pockets. “Well Dimbley, I think I can manage from here.”
She knew he’d get in trouble before the week ended, but Dimbley didn’t say anything besides a watery “good-bye and have fun, young master.” Disappearing with a snap of her fingers and apologies for his parents not being there; the train whistle would blow one last time.
There was a strange tension to the Hogwarts Express that he didn’t remember it having before, and he felt it all the way through the train to the compartment the most exclusive Slytherins sat, into the others where the Gryffindors spilled, and continued as it moved through the Ravenclaws and the Hufflepuffs. He slouched his way up and down the train, in search of a rather empty compartment—the other students giving him a wide berth when he shoved by. He paused at one; a particular Slytherin, last name Zambini and in his seventh year with one arm firmly around his girlfriend was talking loudly.
“My father says that Muggleborns have no place in the Wizarding World.” Zambini declared loudly, the other students nodding in eagerness (all Pureblood Slytherins) at his words. “The Dark Lord has his contacts in the Ministry, and they’re trying to enact laws—” Zambini stopped, fixated on Nixon Lewis with a smug smile.
“Isn’t that right, Lewis? Your dad, he’s Chief Wizengamot; he’ll make sure they pass.”
Nixon shifted on his heels. “Yeah, well, you’re a dumbass for thinking it’ll be that easy.”
The Slytherin’s stared. Just—their mouths hanging open and stared, that Nixon Lewis just called the Quidditch Captain a dumbass. Their eyes shifted to the steely eyed glare Zambini was giving, wondering when he was going to hex Nixon for punishment and just what kinds of words the elder student was going to use. And what kind of words Nixon, the only class he attends being Defense Against the Dark Arts, would have for him in retaliation.
“Dumbledore.” Nixon made the comment sagely to their unasked question, earning scoffs and sneers. “That’s why there has to be a plan.” He clicked teeth, regarding the group for a second before they could ask questions he didn’t have the answer too; he disappeared down the hallway of the train, falling into a slow step that halted at each compartment in hopes one was fully devoid of human presence.
There was one full of laughing girls who’s laughter turned to hard glares when he glanced their way, Nixon wasn’t sure if all of them were from the same house but he didn’t wait longer to—aha.
He pulled open one of the heavy glass-pane doors leading to a small cubby space near the back of the train; placing his owl (Bambi) on the seat nearest the window, rummaging through his bag for a book (Defense Against the Dark Arts: an Advanced Textbook) and the chocolates he packed before plopping down comfortably, feet propped, wand twirling between his fingers with the familiar ache to perform magic on an unsuspecting witless student, settling in for the train ride towards another year at school.
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Post by intentional on Feb 14, 2019 1:27:00 GMT -5
The girls’ high pitched laughing and squealing had come to a comfortable lull as some of the girls left to go change into their robes, Lia included. The group of girls was diverse, as Lia had friends from all four houses (she knew one or two girls in Slytherin). But most of the girls were fellow Hufflepuffs and Gryffindors, with the addition of one or two Ravenclaws. Their house colors could be observed from the crest on their outer robes, and they were busy fixing their hair and makeup when a sixth year Gryffindor started speaking again.
“Did you all hear about You-Know-Who and the law he might want to pass?” She asked as she was busy braiding her hair.
“My parents heard about that— they both work in the Ministry. They are adamant it won’t pass but You-Know-Who has influences everywhere.” A Ravenclaw piped up.
“What’s the law about?” Lia asked, genuinely curious. The Wizarding world had only heard of Voldemort several years ago as the Daily Prophet had reported that he was gathering dark creatures for his army. Some even predicted that he was going to start a war. Lia shuddered at the thought of a war, but if it happened, she would be prepared to fight. There was no better way to put what she’d learned for the past five years to the test like some actual combat, she mused.
“Apparently You-Know-Who believes that Muggleborns shouldn’t be allowed to practice magic. He’s trying to influence the Ministry to enact a law that forbids Muggleborns from studying or practicing magic.” The Ravenclaw answered.
Lia’s hands stopped fidgeting with her sleeves at the mention of Muggleborns. This new law wanted her to stop doing magic? The one thing she loved doing most in the world? It had made her parents beam with joy when she and Lucas had started to display magical signs. If this new law were to be enacted, that would be the end of Lia’s schooling, and Ally’s would never start. She would never experience the joy of using wingardium leviosa for the first time nor the feeling of wind brushing through her hair while on a broom.
Her hands tightened into determined fists, and she swore to herself that she would never let Ally be harmed by You-Know— Voldemort’s laws and policies that were so clearly anti-Muggleborn. There had to be a way to stop the rise of this Dark Lord.
“Hey. This law probably isn’t going to pass.” Came a warm hand on her shoulder.
Lia realized that she had been silent this entire time as they were getting dressed, and all of her friends were looking at her with soft compassion in her eyes. Lia’s golden brown eyes brightened at their empathy and gave them a soft smile.
“It definitely won’t.” Lia agreed as the girls all made their way back to their compartment so their other friends could change.
As she walked by the compartments nearby them, she couldn’t help but notice Nixon Lewis, their year’s resident troublemaker bad-boy. They shared a couple classes together, and he was always making some sort of trouble and getting detention. She hadn’t really talked to him throughout their years, but he gave her no trouble— he’d just sometimes disrupt class, which annoyed her, but no more than how her younger sisters did.
Her gaze moved away from Nixon’s compartment as he was reading a textbook (Defense Against the Dark Arts: an Advanced Textbook— she recognized the small text), and settled in with her friends as the train would soon arrive at Hogwarts.
—
Dumbledore greeted the students as usual, and Lia was excited to see a new group of first years join the Hufflepuff table. The first years were always a bit nervous but rather sweet, and they reminded her a lot of her younger siblings with their wide-eyed looks as they looked up at the enchanted ceiling and ate the feast that magically appeared at their tables.
The Hufflepuff password this year was “comrade”, a fitting word for the year and the mood of the situation of the Wizarding community. Lia settled into her room, shared with four other girls. Her pet, a half cat and half Kneazle named Casper, roamed around her bed and settled on the foot of it, quite pleased with himself after spending the day in his cage. Lia gave her pet a good scratch under his chin before popping into bed, eager to start the next day’s classes.
—
Lia woke up the next morning as Casper kept pawing at her face to wake her up. The other girls were all still fast asleep, and she casted a tempus charm to reveal the time as six thirty. She let out a soft annoyed grunt at her pet, which just meowed back at her as she made her way to the bathroom for a warm shower.
She got dressed, proudly donning the yellow and black tie around her neck, and gathered her school belongings as the other girls started to wake up and get ready. Sixth year was the start of their NEWT level classes, and she was taking almost all NEWT classes for her dream was to become a healer. She was taking NEWT level Transfiguration, Potions, Charms, Herbology and DADA, as well as Care of Magical Creatures and Apparition class.
Her first class of the day was Potions with Slughorn. She quite enjoyed the man’s class and his bubbly personality for a Slytherin. It just proved to her that the Slytherin stereotype of being “evil” was not the case. She pet Casper goodbye and told him to behave as she left with her roommates to the Great Hall for breakfast before classes started.
She was almost late to class after showing a couple first year Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws the way to Charms, and haphazardly sat towards the back, as the other seats to the front were taken. Her friends had already partnered up with other friends, and Lia sat alone in the back as she tied her hair into a messy bun so she could work on the potion for that day.
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Post by shades on Feb 14, 2019 20:46:46 GMT -5
The blonde Slytherin had disappeared before the feast began; he probably should of found a Prefect to get the password for the dormitory. However, simply staring at the wall in the furthest corner from the bustling hallway, in the deepest parts of the dungeon and coldest part of the castle Nixon Lewis uttered three guesses.
“Pureblood.”
“Salazar.”
“…Mudblood.”
The door shook open to reveal a surprisingly warm common room, with leather couches and faded green walls. Fish swam past the windows, pausing for a brief second to view the flames and dim lights, before darting into the murky lake depths again. Nixon Lewis liked to call it home, silently creeping up the stairs and into the room he shared with four other boys.
He always slept in the bed at the furthest corner; a single silk curtain separated the bed from the rest of the room. Wedged by it was an old rolling chalkboard he’d found in an abandoned classroom, his notes from last years OWLs still on the board. Flip the chalkboard over and a list of hexes and the details they entailed when cast Nixon knew were listed in a neat line.
Nixon sat on the bed, munching on a chocolate frog without saying or thinking much of anything, then went to the bathroom and stared in the mirror wondering what it would be like to look the way Slytherin’s hated: dressed in red and gold, or yellows and blacks. He was the ultimate Europeanized ideal of beauty, pale and blond and blue-eyed. There was no way to superimpose such a thing over what he saw in the mirror, and he stood there staring until he had to lean over the sink and wait for his body to stop shaking, wash his face with cold water to clear away the redness and salt streaks. When he finally emerged, the other Slytherins were unpacking their belongings, only turning to give curt greetings to Nixon, mouths turned in frowns.
Hopping into bed, shutting the curtain around him; Nixon Lewis disappeared for the night in the comforts of his own space.
The world ended on a Monday. No one was particularly surprised by this.
Because really, the world had no business ending on one of the good days, like Friday or Saturday, or the ubiquitously quiet Sunday. Even Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday—although still part of the school week and filled with mundane detritus of quills and parchment deadlines and the eternal and futile struggle to just get by—were relatively good days, being stepping stones along the path to Friday.
But there was nothing good about Monday. Ever. Therefore, if the world was going to skid to a halt and fall into the endless abyss of Apocalypse, Monday was the day to do it.
Unfortunately for the rest of the human population, only one person in the entire world thus far actually knew that their significant corner of the universe had come to an end. And he, rather than proclaiming this in the streets with a cardboard sign and a tin can, was currently still hidden behind his ugly jade green silk curtain, flung haphazardly on the farthest bed in the corner of the room, attempting to suffocate himself with a pillow.
Teenage wizards have a penchant for the dramatic like that.
Nixon figured his imminent suffocation was probably for the best. Were he to cease breathing, and therefore thinking, and therefore living entirely, he would no longer be able to go to class. Oh? Did you hear that correctly.
NIXON LEWIS HAS TO GO TO CLASS.
This is what the Apocalypse sounded like in his head; thankfully, the letter itself wasn’t a Howler. It was actually, a very formal letter with the Chief Wizengamot insignia, dropped by the most glamorous barn owl in the history of barn owls (who demanded his Cheeri Owls straight from his bowl, thank you very much). Everyone at the Slytherin table stared, even the professors at the head table piqued with interest behind their goblets of pumpkin juice.
Letter in short: “NIXON LEWIS, GO TO CLASS OR YOU WILL BE EXPELLED FROM HOGWARTS AND SENT TO BE AN HOUSE ELF FOR THE REST OF YOUR DAMN LIFE. “
Letter in formal: “Nixon, I am writing you in concern for your grades and attendance at Hogwarts this year and from years prior. While you’re still excelling at a minimal amount of classes, I cannot guarantee you a job after school if you do not graduate, or attend any of the necessary coursework. I’ve talked to Professor Slughorn, who has agreed to allow you to take his NEWT level Potions course despite your attendance the previous years. However, if you fail to show up for class, I’m afraid Headmaster Dumbledore has concerns on where your priorities lie. Do not disappoint me.”
Of course, his first class of the day was Potions with Professor Slughorn. The dumpling man had handed him the schedule with a taunt frown, and “I hope you do better this year” before bustling off to inflate Zambini’s head more. His pride and joy of the Slug Club.
Nixon wondered if a heavyweight charm on the pillow, on his face, would do the trick.
…
…
He shuffled into class two minutes late but before Slughorn showed up, so it didn’t matter to anyone. Nixon looked around the room with a glare, shoving his bag and himself in the nearest seat available at the back of the class—in the corner—sitting back against the wall and paging through his copy of Basic Hexes for the Busy and Vexed. He took no care to talk to the Hufflepuff girl next to him for the remainder of class, or the other students whispering to one another.
It stopped when the dungeon door opened and Professor Slughorn walked in with a smile and his roundstomach preceding him entering the room, moustache twitching over his prominent smile.
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Post by intentional on Feb 14, 2019 21:55:44 GMT -5
As Lia was starting to pull out her parchment and quill to take notes on whatever potion they were going to brew in class today, another student entered the room, and one that caught everyone’s immediate attention. She turned to face the boy to see why her friends were shooting her nervous glances as the Slytherin boy approached the seat next to her, the last available seat. But he was no ordinary Slytherin boy.
It was Nixon Lewis.
Resident trouble maker, bad boy, who was always spending at least every other day in detention, it seemed. Lia let out a soft sigh as the boy ignored her and sat down, and it didn’t help her to hear everyone whispering among themselves. One of her Gryffindor friends shot her a pitying glance, and Lia merely rolled her eyes softly as a couple Slytherins snickered and turned away. Just because she was sitting next to Nixon didn’t mean she couldn’t handle herself. If he was going to ignore her all class period, then fine. As long as the boy pulled his weight when working with the in-class potions, she’d have no qualms, no matter the rumors.
She glanced down at the table next to hers and saw that he’d pulled out a copy of Basic Hexes for the Busy and Vexed. She’d never seen that book before, and the title seemed interesting enough. Her curiosity got the best of her as she started to read the sideways text when Slughorn walked in the room, signaling the start of class. Lia pulled out her potions textbook and opened it up to page 12 as instructed, and the instructions in front of her made her crack a small grin. She always loved a challenge, and although Slughorn rarely ever challenged his students (sadly), it seemed he wanted to start off their sixth year with a bit of flair.
“Today, you will be making the Draught of Living Death. The Draught of Living Death is a very powerful sleeping potion that will send its drinker into a deathlike slumber. The brewing instructions are on page twelve of your books, and I’ll give you an hour and a half to brew the potion with your partner. Begin.” Slughorn waved his wand as the ingredients appeared on each desk pair.
A pair in-class potion. Great. Making conversation was one of her strong suites, but who knew how the troublemaker Slytherin would react?
Her golden brown eyes scanned the brewing instructions quickly, reminding herself of the potion’s basic ingredients. In actuality, she’d tried brewing this potion and every other NEWT potion during the summer to get a head start on her studies, and through many trials and errors (and holes on her bedroom floor) found that a revision was needed with the sopophorous beans. She made sure to scribble a note in her textbook as she took off her cloak and rolled up her sleeves, and faced the boy.
“I’m Lia Montgomery.” She simply introduced herself. “I suppose we can split the work in half. I can cut the sopophorous beans and extract its juice and do the stirring while you ready the other ingredients. Is that reasonable?” She asked, her golden brown eyes steely with resolve. Just because she was a Hufflepuff did not mean that she would allow this troublemaker Slytherin boy to push her around. She knew how to brew this potion and she would make him follow her lead if all he was going to do is get himself in trouble and hinder their brewing. There was no way that a boy, especially a Slytherin, would be above in her opportunity to learn everything she could from Hogwarts. She wouldn’t let that happen in a million years.
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