#ourbattleevent

[raven-ryllis-blog]

Event Response

(First post! Anyone can use this as a starter if they want!) 

Hearing the last part of Dumbledore’s speech, Amaryllis glanced over the rather large copy of ‘Myths and Legends of Hogwarts Castle and the Surrounding Areas’ she was reading and scanned the Great Hall with her ever-watchful gaze, the hawklike intensity glaring in her dark brown eyes lingering over the other house tables.  Most students, especially those who were a part of their house Quiddich team, were looking mutinous, though some where staring about as if they couldn’t believe their ears and others didn’t seem to care at all. The Ravenclaw’s gaze lingered for a moment before dropping down to the book again, her vision once more captured by the words scattered across the page. Quiddich wasn’t too much of a concern for her, though she liked it; sometimes, on sunny days, she’d retire from her ever-present spot in the far corner of the library to walk down to the pitch and sit in the stands, muttering moves and playoffs in her head with a copy of ‘Quiddich Through the Ages.’ in her hand. Losing herself in her thoughts for what felt like the fiftieth time that day, she felt a calm serenity wash over her mind as she dived into the world painted in such detail by the author of the book. After that little bit of excitement, I’m glad to go back to this- I want to finish reading this by Monday. 

In the midst of the other thoughts that were now crowding her mind, she wondered if anyone would be willing to talk with her about the loss of Quidditch, or if they thought that she was too shy to speak to...

[mssrmoony-blog1]

trial by fire; marlene

It seemed like in the time it took to blink, the whole world had gone to hell. There was a flash (or was it a crash? A bang?) and the tinkling of shattering glass. Then the screaming started when the shadows descended. 

It all happened outside his range of vision. He had been in Scrivenshaft’s when it happened, talking with Alice about a present for Frank. One moment, the world was normal, their concerns trivial, and the next, the shop window across the street was ablaze and the village echoed with the stampede of charging feet. 

It was instant chaos. An eye blink, unlike the month-long slide into madness that followed the moon. That he was used to. That he could deal with. At least with the moon he knew what he was getting. He expected his mind to slip away when the fur started sprouting.

He didn’t expect Hogsmeade to be overrun by wizards in black cloaks and face masks, hurling spells and curses.

He’d lost Alice in the stampede and shouted himself hoarse for her until he realized he was drawing attention. A bolt of angry red light made its point very clearly. 

He trudged on after that, wand out and determined. Head ducked down as he shouldered his way through the crowd like a salmon upstream. Those fleeing parted around him and ran as fast as their legs could carry in the opposite direction. Remus walked on, keeping low and moving fast. He wouldn’t shout anymore, but his eyes roamed, searching every shop and corner. 

There was a lull in the spell-casting, a sudden pocket of silence in the din, and Remus took the chance to duck around the corner with his eyes trained on the deepening shadows pooled under the Hog’s Head signpost swinging above the door across the way. 

Stupid, he thought, when he collided with someone. His wand flashed, quick as a snake.

“Expelliarmus!” he shouted. 

He’d always been a deft hand at dueling. 

[fervidus-marlene-blog]

Chasing Smoke//Marlene & Open

One would think that after countless times of making the same mistake, most people would learn from it. Marlene wasn’t most people. So of course when she first spotted the cloaked figured throwing spells, her reaction was to run towards them rather than away. And she had held her own for a while. But now, clutching her bloodied arm against her side, she cursed under her breath. The spell hadn’t even been aimed for her and she almost swore it was another student. 

Her arm felt broken. Clenching her teeth, she worked her way through the crowd, looking out for any familiar face. All around there was the sound of glass shattering and people screaming, so loud it was almost deafening. When a hand grabbed her shoulder, she flinched and instinctively whirled around, wand poised at the person’s throat.  

[regularregulus-blog]

“Three minutes in and there’s already a drink down the front of my shirt. Fantastic. Could you be any more careless?”

[fortescalice-blog]

“ - no. Thank you. Maybe later?” Alice smiled as the Hufflepuff boy walked away, but she heaved out a sigh the moment he was out of earshot. “Seven years,” she began, turning to the person beside her as she took another sip of her Butterbeer,  “you’d think people would take the hint that I don’t dance at parties.”

[iandromedablack-blog]

Andromeda had never really been one for parties.  

Of course, her family had held many, and she'd bitten her tongue and gone along with everything, because she knew that she had to, but when it came to school parties, well, she'd often managed to give them a miss without much of a fuss from anyone else. After all, her older sister had never shown an interest, and so it wasn't unusual for her to skip the hormone-fueled parties that drove the school into a frenzy of excitement. However, as the party began and Andromeda sat perched on her bed, in her empty dorm, she decided that perhaps a party would do her good. Perhaps it would get her mind off other things. 

Once she'd gotten dressed, she made her way down to where the party was being held, passing a few of her fellow peers as some found dark corners to be alone with another, and as others cheered and held up drinks in an act of celebration. What they were celebrating, Andromeda was not sure. A student had just died, and yet here they were, partying like nothing had happened, as if a young girl hadn't just lost her life, as if her family weren't grieving, wishing their little girl was still with them.

Andromeda did not feel like there was much to celebrate, but it certainly did not stop her from grabbing herself a drink and settling in.

[mssrmoony-blog1]

The town of Hogsmeade lay quaint like a sleeping mouse under neat boughs of snow, on eaves and doorsteps and curling on the tops of signposts, that dropped in bits down the backs of necks and into unsuspecting sleeves whenever a door rattled. Remus relished the feeling of ice melt down his spine, even though it wet through his jumper and dampened his coat. The air was cool and crisp and chilled his mouth when he breathed it in. 

He took deep breaths, let it fill him up, before breathing out through clenched teeth in puffs of airy white. Not a week after Halloween and already snow on the ground. There was something welcoming about the weather, despite the lack of sun, hidden in the soft grey bedclothes of clouds. The snow left the landscape bright and clean, forcing the world to acknowledge the starkness of early November trees and the hurtling onset of the approaching holidays.

There was something magical about snow. Something about the unforgiving way it laid the world bare, even as it strove to hide the ground from view. Set against the blinding negative space, nothing blended. It pit you against the landscape, thrown into stark relief, all your actions no longer consigned to the background. You couldn’t hide in the snow. 

For the first time in a while, Remus didn’t want to. There was freedom in the crunch of snow beneath his beat up oxfords, in the dust of ice thrown into his face on the wind burning his nose and ears and fingers red while the four of them staggered, arm in arm and fully visible, through all their usual haunts. Zonko’s welcomed them, warm and familiar; Honeyduke’s coaxed and beckoned, and Remus spent hard-saved sickles on chocolate cremes and treacle toffees.

Spirits were high after the party, and more so that the party had led to this: a repeal on their Hogsmeade ban. Their curfew lifted. The air tasted different after house arrest. It tasted free. 

After a couple of content hours in pleasant company, arm in arm with Sirius and stuffing snow down Peter’s collar and into James’s hair, Remus paused in passing a shop sign, remembering that he hadn’t spent all his money on sweets and jokes for a reason. He waved his friends on, hooking a thumb at the door behind him. 

“I’m headed in to Scrivenshaft’s. I could use a new quill.” His old one was an eagle feather, a gift from Third Year, held together with spell-o-tape and willpower. “I’ll meet you lot in the Three Broomsticks for a top up before we head back?”

That decided, he headed inside. The tinkling of the bell announcing his arrival.

[mssrmoony-blog1]

“It’s exactly....a half hour to midnight, and I haven’t had nearly enough to drink.”