Hogwarts Story: Part 25
Nov. 2nd, 2007 11:50 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
unforthClose to two years to do the day since I started the story, well over one year since I last worked on it, here is the next part of the Hogwarts story! I vowed more than once that I WOULD finish it, and dammit all I will! Just now it will be broken up into daily, approximately 750 word installments, since I think I'd probably maintain ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
novel_in_90 habits even if I quit the community. ;) That's why they are habits. ;)
I have a cheerful glow, too, because I went through my old e-mail looking for information related to the game, and came across the letters that![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
drake_rocket and I traded...damn, that was so much fun! :) And right around the same time were all the Willowgrove Game Night posts...it's all left me terribly nostalgic (a good way to be, I suppose, when my next two projects are both related to games), smiling like a dummy, and on the verge of tears. There's something I've never forgotten. When I was in elementary school, around 1st or 2nd grade, I saw a saying that I thought sounded truly ridiculous to me:
"I always knew that I'd look back on the sad memories and laugh, but I never thought I'd look back on the happy memories and cry."
As a little kid, I thought that was utterly ludicrous. I looked back on happy memories, and I was happy! Yet it stuck with me, and the older I've gotten the more I've understood it. I thought that it meant I'd be sad that I'd once been happy; now I see that I can cry at the happy memories without being any less happy about them. And that's how this nostalgia is making me feel. How can something two years ago feel like it happened in another life time?
Enough of that! On to the story! Remember, I posted links to the previous parts in this LJ post. :)
Over breakfast, which I found I had surprisingly little interest in actually eating, I wrote hurried note to Marcus. I needed to talk to him, it said, at the soonest opportunity, and he should tell me when and where we could meet on a matter of urgency. The vial of potion was in a safe pocket in my robes, and while my nerves said that there was no need to give it to him yet, I forced myself to decide that there was no time like the present. I had reason to be nervous, of course, since I had not been able to test it. What if it did something vile? What if it had the opposite effect as I hoped? I had considered slipping it to Dmitri and then watching how he handled it, but I feared that even if he encountered Katrina while under the potion’s effects I still would not know how the encounter left unless I followed him the entire time. What if it only lasted a few minutes? What if it was poison? I wished I had time to make a counter agent, just in case the worst of my fears were realized. With the ball that very night, though, time was in very short supply.
Mere moments after my note was sent I received a note of my own, in Marcus’ sloppy hand. I almost laughed aloud. His note, which must have been sent at almost the same instant mine was, said almost exactly the same thing, too. “Delia – it is imperative that I speak with you before the ball this evening. The sooner the better.” I chanced a glance in his direction; he was reading my note while attempting to fend off Katrina’s attempts to read what it said. I hadn’t signed mine, so I suppose if she did see it wouldn’t mean she’d understand what it meant, but still it irked me to see them flirting. The way he smiled at her set my teeth on edge, and the way she smiled back made me want to hurl things at her. And he was smiling at her. Even though he thought she was using him! I fingered the potion in my pocket. It had to work, it just had to. As he finished reading the note, though, he glanced at me, too, and he smiled that smile at me. When Katrina saw that, her mouth tightened to a line, though she made she Marcus never saw her irritation. I tried not to look triumphant. “Right after breakfast,” I wrote on the back of his note, and sent it back.
“Delia,” I had been sitting alone, but now Galatea was beside me, tugging on the sleeve of my class robes. We didn’t have classes today, of course, there was too much preparation to be done for the Halloween ball, but I wore them out of habit. The students all had been assigned to work teams which were to aid the Groundskeeper and the staff in decorating the castle, and as a Prefect I was supposed to organize one of those teams. The robes would surely help me keep order, not that I seemed to have much trouble with that – I had found that students responded surprisingly well to me. “The Headmaster wants to talk to you!” Galatea almost squeaked. And she tore my robes. How did a girl so small get to be so strong? I wished I could solve the puzzle that Tremens’ arrest had left. She’d seemed sad, very sad, since the Professor was taken, and I tried to cheer her up. I told myself that that was the only reason I had befriended the girl, though it rang a little hollow to me. Somehow, I felt uncomfortable admitting to myself that a big part of why I had befriended her was merely to dig up the secret of her, of her strength, the secret I was certain existed. Rising, I followed her lead.
The Headmaster met me at the staff table, and, after glancing at the other staff – who one by one nodded their heads to him firmly – he gestured me towards a door near the staff table. “Come with me,” he said firmly. All thoughts of Galatea fled my head. What on earth had I done to warrant this? I swallowed hard. I had broken a few rules recently, I supposed. I had snuck out for a date with Marcus. I had an extra blanket. I had made a business deal with Zonko’s Joke Shop. I had broken in to Professor Tremens’ office after curfew and stolen – no, I intended to give them back! – and had stolen a number of her personal belongings. The key we had found, which I had been wearing on a chain around my neck since I retrieved it from its hiding place during the attack, felt like it weighed a thousand pounds or more. Of my crimes, that was surely the only one serious. Perhaps I had broken a fair number of rules recently. I resisted the urge to hang my head in shame. Nothing like this had ever happened when I kept to myself! Making friends certainly did seem to mean finding ways to make trouble.
“Ms. Prince,” the Headmaster said. His voice was firm and strict. Of course, Headmaster Nigellus always sounded firm and strict. “The professors and I have been consulting on a matter of some importance. Due to some unfortunate circumstances, the current Head Girl has been, shall we say, removed from her position.” I blushed. All manner of rumors were circulating in regards to the Head Girls activities, for she had apparently taken ill in what could politely only be termed as a “rather specific” and regular fashion in the mornings. Even her own housemates in Slytherin were less than pleased with her. It was not the sort of thing normally discussed in polite company, nor would it be when she was fit to return to school in 6 or 7 months. “However, the school must have student leadership in these trying times! After a great deal of discussion, the staff have decided that you are to be the new Head Girl.”
The thing about writing stories when you already know exactly what is going on is that the writing goes much faster. I really had to resist doing a lot more today, reminding myself that there is no need to do it all at once. Especially after yesterday. :)
novel_in_90 habits even if I quit the community. ;) That's why they are habits. ;)I have a cheerful glow, too, because I went through my old e-mail looking for information related to the game, and came across the letters that
drake_rocket and I traded...damn, that was so much fun! :) And right around the same time were all the Willowgrove Game Night posts...it's all left me terribly nostalgic (a good way to be, I suppose, when my next two projects are both related to games), smiling like a dummy, and on the verge of tears. There's something I've never forgotten. When I was in elementary school, around 1st or 2nd grade, I saw a saying that I thought sounded truly ridiculous to me:"I always knew that I'd look back on the sad memories and laugh, but I never thought I'd look back on the happy memories and cry."
As a little kid, I thought that was utterly ludicrous. I looked back on happy memories, and I was happy! Yet it stuck with me, and the older I've gotten the more I've understood it. I thought that it meant I'd be sad that I'd once been happy; now I see that I can cry at the happy memories without being any less happy about them. And that's how this nostalgia is making me feel. How can something two years ago feel like it happened in another life time?
Enough of that! On to the story! Remember, I posted links to the previous parts in this LJ post. :)
Over breakfast, which I found I had surprisingly little interest in actually eating, I wrote hurried note to Marcus. I needed to talk to him, it said, at the soonest opportunity, and he should tell me when and where we could meet on a matter of urgency. The vial of potion was in a safe pocket in my robes, and while my nerves said that there was no need to give it to him yet, I forced myself to decide that there was no time like the present. I had reason to be nervous, of course, since I had not been able to test it. What if it did something vile? What if it had the opposite effect as I hoped? I had considered slipping it to Dmitri and then watching how he handled it, but I feared that even if he encountered Katrina while under the potion’s effects I still would not know how the encounter left unless I followed him the entire time. What if it only lasted a few minutes? What if it was poison? I wished I had time to make a counter agent, just in case the worst of my fears were realized. With the ball that very night, though, time was in very short supply.
Mere moments after my note was sent I received a note of my own, in Marcus’ sloppy hand. I almost laughed aloud. His note, which must have been sent at almost the same instant mine was, said almost exactly the same thing, too. “Delia – it is imperative that I speak with you before the ball this evening. The sooner the better.” I chanced a glance in his direction; he was reading my note while attempting to fend off Katrina’s attempts to read what it said. I hadn’t signed mine, so I suppose if she did see it wouldn’t mean she’d understand what it meant, but still it irked me to see them flirting. The way he smiled at her set my teeth on edge, and the way she smiled back made me want to hurl things at her. And he was smiling at her. Even though he thought she was using him! I fingered the potion in my pocket. It had to work, it just had to. As he finished reading the note, though, he glanced at me, too, and he smiled that smile at me. When Katrina saw that, her mouth tightened to a line, though she made she Marcus never saw her irritation. I tried not to look triumphant. “Right after breakfast,” I wrote on the back of his note, and sent it back.
“Delia,” I had been sitting alone, but now Galatea was beside me, tugging on the sleeve of my class robes. We didn’t have classes today, of course, there was too much preparation to be done for the Halloween ball, but I wore them out of habit. The students all had been assigned to work teams which were to aid the Groundskeeper and the staff in decorating the castle, and as a Prefect I was supposed to organize one of those teams. The robes would surely help me keep order, not that I seemed to have much trouble with that – I had found that students responded surprisingly well to me. “The Headmaster wants to talk to you!” Galatea almost squeaked. And she tore my robes. How did a girl so small get to be so strong? I wished I could solve the puzzle that Tremens’ arrest had left. She’d seemed sad, very sad, since the Professor was taken, and I tried to cheer her up. I told myself that that was the only reason I had befriended the girl, though it rang a little hollow to me. Somehow, I felt uncomfortable admitting to myself that a big part of why I had befriended her was merely to dig up the secret of her, of her strength, the secret I was certain existed. Rising, I followed her lead.
The Headmaster met me at the staff table, and, after glancing at the other staff – who one by one nodded their heads to him firmly – he gestured me towards a door near the staff table. “Come with me,” he said firmly. All thoughts of Galatea fled my head. What on earth had I done to warrant this? I swallowed hard. I had broken a few rules recently, I supposed. I had snuck out for a date with Marcus. I had an extra blanket. I had made a business deal with Zonko’s Joke Shop. I had broken in to Professor Tremens’ office after curfew and stolen – no, I intended to give them back! – and had stolen a number of her personal belongings. The key we had found, which I had been wearing on a chain around my neck since I retrieved it from its hiding place during the attack, felt like it weighed a thousand pounds or more. Of my crimes, that was surely the only one serious. Perhaps I had broken a fair number of rules recently. I resisted the urge to hang my head in shame. Nothing like this had ever happened when I kept to myself! Making friends certainly did seem to mean finding ways to make trouble.
“Ms. Prince,” the Headmaster said. His voice was firm and strict. Of course, Headmaster Nigellus always sounded firm and strict. “The professors and I have been consulting on a matter of some importance. Due to some unfortunate circumstances, the current Head Girl has been, shall we say, removed from her position.” I blushed. All manner of rumors were circulating in regards to the Head Girls activities, for she had apparently taken ill in what could politely only be termed as a “rather specific” and regular fashion in the mornings. Even her own housemates in Slytherin were less than pleased with her. It was not the sort of thing normally discussed in polite company, nor would it be when she was fit to return to school in 6 or 7 months. “However, the school must have student leadership in these trying times! After a great deal of discussion, the staff have decided that you are to be the new Head Girl.”
The thing about writing stories when you already know exactly what is going on is that the writing goes much faster. I really had to resist doing a lot more today, reminding myself that there is no need to do it all at once. Especially after yesterday. :)
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2007-11-02 05:04 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-11-03 01:38 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-11-02 07:42 am (UTC)Also I've skimmed through your profile, and in your interests you have: science-fiction, star trek and deep space nine. And you DON'T WATCH Battlestar Galactica??? You seriously have to make up for that. ;) One of the writers for DS9, Ronald D. Moore is the main producer and author if the reimagined BSG series. It's a MUST for any s-f fan. ;)
A little sample? here: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=V7Zuf3TcuTk
no subject
Date: 2007-11-03 01:37 am (UTC)And believe me, I REALLY want to watch Battlestar Galactica. It's like, in the top 5 programs I want to see - along with the new Dr. Who, Haus, and Scrubs- shows I've heard a lot about and think I'd really like. I just haven't gotten around to it yet. :)
no subject
Date: 2007-11-25 06:53 am (UTC)Surely it wasn't malice on my part...
Surely.
no subject
Date: 2007-11-25 02:03 pm (UTC)