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22 November 2009 @ 10:56 pm
He waited, standing tall and stoically even though his temper was rising. They were coming, but they all seemed to be taking their precious, glorious time. Nagini lifter her head from where she rested, coiled tightly about a dog that had wandered too close to her. She seemed pleased enough, though Voldemort's mood seemed to rub off uncomfortably.

"Late," He muttered, eyes narrowing as he turned and almost began to pace. But he didn't pace, it was unbecoming, and unlike him. He did not pace, he didn't appear angry or impatient without someone to take it out on.


Where were they?
Current Mood: annoyedannoyed
09 November 2009 @ 08:19 pm
Aune was never known as one to smile, or even nod in another's direction. Tonight was no different. She sat by the door of the library, surrounded by her parchments and notes, giving more than a severe glance to anyone who dared to interrupt her 'studies'. One book of note, was her famous 'note book', a black hardback full of notes on the various quidditch players and odds, it was the farthest out of reach from her island of text and closer to the doorway than to her.

Really though, could they possibly be more loud?
09 November 2009 @ 08:05 pm
Fabian placed the last item into a small box. If this was how she wanted it, then this is how it would be. If she expected him to move on, then he would have to get rid of every reminder of her, and besides, she probably wanted these things back. It was best to spare them both the awkwardness of her coming to get them herself (even if he would prefer that). He sent the box, along with a letter, to her. The owl would be familiar to her, and there was a chance that she might not want to hear what he had to say and might not open it. He would take that chance.


I was sorry to hear about Danny. I hope that things end better for her than they did for Anne and Carol, but if they do not, I know she will be greatly missed.

There are some items that you left behind in your visits. I have included them in the box so that you do not need to come and get them yourself. I hope I haven't forgotten anything.


P.S. You can keep the shirts. They are easily replaced.

He knew better, by now, than to expect a reply.

[There is one item that is not in the box.]
25 October 2009 @ 10:50 pm
Bran wasn't in Hogsmeade for pleasure this time around. He was going methodically from shop to shop, speaking briefly with the people behind the counter, and leaving again with a slight frown. He didn't look like he was having a good time in any sense of the word.

He stopped for a moment and found somewhere to sit, looking exhausted, face in his hands. He looked up slowly and sighed. He was totally, royally fucked. He decided to sit awhile and watch people go by. "Bloody fucking hell."
25 October 2009 @ 08:30 pm
It might have been dinnertime, but there was at least one Hufflepuff not thinking about his stomach. He walked into the Great Hall quietly but with purpose, scanning Gryffindor's table until he found who he was looking for. Striding up behind his victim, he paused a second before making his move.

"Hey, arsehole." Grabbing a firm handful of collar, Bren pulled up, forcing the taller boy to stand up from his seat. He twisted his hand in the cloth, keeping a firm grip as he leaned in to continue, brusquely, "A word, hey?"

Then, letting go with a slight shove to make sure his brother stayed on his feet, Brendon turned and started back out. If Bran still had his head anywhere other than so far up his arsehole he was catching daylight past his tonsils, he'd follow. If not, Bren had nothing to discuss with him.
04 October 2009 @ 08:26 pm
To say that James' poor attempt at an intervention had put Ceara in a mood would be an understatement. Still in the dress she had been wearing, she stormed out of the common room -- headed in the direction of the stairs. She had to get out of there. Maybe a trip to the Three Broomsticks was in order.

As she reached the stairwell, she noticed a Slytherin second year. "You! Are you headed back to the common room?"

He nodded.

"Severus Snape. Tell him third floor, Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom." And without waiting for an answer, she was off. She didn't want to actually meet Severus in the DADA classroom; she wanted to meet him by the statue of the one-eyed witch outside it. There was a passage there that would lead the two of them to Honeydukes. And Hogsmeade.

Leaning back against the wall, she waited, trying to calm down. Who the fuck did James Potter think he was? Seriously?
04 October 2009 @ 01:28 am
Backdated to Saturday afternoon since the mun has no brain...

Alfred arrived at the Three Broomsticks at what he hoped was a reasonable time. He had said that he would meet Rosen here in the afternoon, but his tendency to speak little hadn't actually aided him at finding the proper time. Or on knowing what this was going to be exactly. Generally speaking, Alfred didn't date much. He wasn't exactly skilled at the communication that seemed to be a necessary part of dating. At first he thought it was just meeting friends, but reflection on the awkward smiling whatever it was could mean date. Which made him vaguely nervous. But he's here and it's not like she's going to bite. Right?
Leon did have a point. It was the weekend and that meant time to hit the pub. Not that Donal was against hitting the pub during the week -- just that it was technically against the rules and well, the Shaw twins were fairly good at keeping him on the straight and narrow.

Opening the door to the Three Broomsticks, Donal led the two other boys inside and towards the back, giving a wave to Rosmerta as he passed by the bar. Being a Saturday night, the place was rather crowded, which was why Donal saw one of he back booths as their best chance for actually being able to hear one another.

Sliding in, he shrugged off his jacket as Rosmerta brought a bottle of firewhiskey and three glasses to the table. Apparently, they were predictable.

Grabbing the bottle, Donal poured out three glasses. "Excellent idea, Shaw."
Rabastan was pacing back and forth in the library, right near their usual meeting spot. He had been going over and over their quick exchange about this talk they needed to have. All he could think is that the thought of being with him made her 'sick'. That's what she had basically told him, right?

You make her sick. You make her sick.

He repeated it to himself in his head, over and over again. She was going to break up with him, right after he had told his parents, and so many people at the school that he finally was with someone. Wasn't that just his luck? He could practically hear his parents' voices, as if they was right next to him in the library, What on earth did you do, Bastan? How did you manage to ruin this? It's as if everything you touch turns to shite.

Rabastan was twirling hair between his fingers, trying not to tug on it for fear that Bellatrix would notice the next time she saw him. With a sudden determination, he decided to sit and let it all happen. What was fretting about it going to do, anyway? It would just make him look more pathetic in Irina's eyes. Perhaps he could at least get out of this with some dignity left.
24 September 2009 @ 11:14 pm
So, ten minutes till after-hours. What was the head boy to do with himself? After all, he really couldn't do his job until then. Might as well be useful... or have fun. He stands outside of the library toying with the idea of finding someone to bother, or wait until they came to him.

After all, he had ten minutes.