Hogwarts, and Stuff
Nov. 17th, 2007 03:44 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
unforthI know I had something I wanted to talk about, but I can't think what it is. So I'll suffice it to say that today, I started actually writing one of the two grants that we have due on the 10th, and that was nice. I'd have done more on it, but we're still hashing out the program activities, and so I couldn't really do more than the first few pages until that's all settled - which it will be tomorrow, I expect, and certainly will be Monday.
Oh! And I started poking around on rental websites last night, and I'm feeling a little bit better about my prospects of finding the apartment I want at the price I can afford, which is very reassuring. I'm slightly terrified by the prospect of paying 2000+ in rent per month, but NYC is expensive and it can't be helped. At least if we can win these grants, I'll have a good chance of successfully petitioning for a raise. It's funny to think that the pay that I always felt was excessive while I lived in Indiana, and is certainly adequate now, will barely allow me to make ends meet without a roommate in NYC. And I reallllly want to live alone, for a variety of reasons. So yay seeing that at least it'll be possible. :)
The fight had me so distracted that I couldn’t follow any of the other play. Before me, Deletrious and Ubelwalt appeared to have completely forgotten that there was a Quidditch match going on. Baer was gone, presumably for medical help, and the bludgers were largely ignored. Both bludgers, therefore, seemed to think it an excellent time to take vengeance on their attackers, and as the two huge men (Ubelwalt, who must have been 8 feet tall, was the shorter of the two) were attacking each other with fists, bats, kicks, head butts, all 50 feet of the ground, while the bludgers mercilessly peppered both of them with blows. This was hardly appropriate Quidditch behavior, but for long minutes the medieval snitch – who was, after all, acting as the referee for this match – did nothing.
I can’t say I know which particular thing that occurred caused the snitch to decide that enough was enough, but finally the snitch shrieked, “Foul to both sides! Foul! Foul! Foul!” Maybe it wasn’t even the fight that prompted this, I truly do not know. I easily blocked Silberholz’s attempt to score, and then was as easily foiled by yet another of Durmstrang’s fake-outs when Mathilde scored; at least Reginald managed to score for our side, as well. I felt my continued failures with nothing but bitter self-recrimination, though later many of my friends and classmates would agree that they were shocked I’d even been able to continue the match after the treatment I’d sustained, and that they didn’t hold my failures against me.
The fight finally broken up, I was able to follow what was going on again, just in time to see Lydia diving, and to make out the glitter towards which she headed. Lars was ahead of her. My breath caught in my throat. I’d lost track of the current score, and I greatly feared that even if Lydia managed to capture the snitch, we would still lose, but certainly if Lars got it there could be no other ending. They were both, so close, and rushing towards the ground at fatal speeds. Undeterred, Lydia actually threw her weight to one side, and skimmed the ground at an utterly terrifying, physics-defying right angle. I still feared it would not be enough, when she suddenly through herself from her broom, directly in front of Lars as he grasped for the snitch.
I suppose I should have been paying attention to the game. The Durmstrang chasers could have scored any number of times while I allowed myself to be utterly distracted by the chase for the snitch, but I couldn’t take my eyes from it nor, I later learned, could any of the others, really. Lydia’s fingers closed on the snitch, our adjudicator ended the game, and I saw the score for the first time. I’m sure we all thought the same thing simultaneously: for the score stood at 180 to 170, but it was not Hogwarts in the lead. For everything that we had done, we had lost anyway, and it was entirely my fault.
The noise of the stadium was overwhelming, but it couldn’t drown out a voice from far down the pitch. “Could somebody get me down from here?” It was little Reginald who – I wish I had seen myself! – had been attacked by Gregor Langhaar such that he had been hurled, javelin like, through one of the Quidditch hoops. Broom lost, he now rested, legs dangling desperately, wedged neatly in, and in his possession was the quaffle. The score ticked over to a tie, for, after a moments deliberation, the snitch declared firmly that the quaffle that Reginald bore had most definitely passed through the ring, and therefore was a score.
And so the match ended in a perfectly satisfactory, perfectly unsatisfactory, tie.
Normally, I think, a tie would have elicited no particular good spirits. However, with everything that had happened in the match, with the moment in which we all thought that Hogwarts had lost despite all that we could do, a tie seemed to be taken with even better cheer than a win might have been. This feeling was surely amplified by the good will with which the Durmstrangs handled their loss. Now that the match was over, they all seemed to lose their utter air of superiority; indeed, Ubelwalt demonstrated genuine pleasantness in the days afterwards, talking often with Deletrious, exchanging whatever sorts of information two giants might wish to share with each other. For, we were told, the Durmstrangs and their headmaster were to remain with us for at least the rest of the year. No one seemed to know why this was, but now that the match was over, and over in a way which neither side could really resent, most people took it as a matter of course and surprisingly few questions were asked. Nox was still clearly not welcome, but nor was there any polite way to send him off, so the intrusion was accepted, and soon no one thought about it twice.
It was, as I had feared, the better part of the week before I began to feel very much better. Once the match was completed, I was able to get much more effective medical treatment than could be afforded during it, but even so I was so generally bruised and concussed that there was only so much that could be done. I was thankful that nearly all of the pain was eliminated, though, and as such I had merely the stiffness to contend with.
Classes, of course, resumed the very next day, and at once I was as busy as I ever had been. Now that the match was completed, the normal Quidditch schedule was to resume, and so I had the unenviable task of trying to organize the pitiful Ravenclaw team. Meanwhile, I now had to assume all of the duties of Head Girl. In my fondest fancies, I had thought that this would mean that I would get to spend more time with Marcus, as surely our duties would parallel, but indeed nearly the exact opposite proved to be the case. It was not uncommon for two prefects to be assigned to a single task, since there were generally eight prefects in total, but there was only one head girl and only one head boy, and as such there was far more need than manpower, which meant that the two were almost never assigned to the same duty. Thus, it was not until the meeting that Marcus had proposed for the following weekend that I next got to see him for more than a minute at a time.
Oh! And I started poking around on rental websites last night, and I'm feeling a little bit better about my prospects of finding the apartment I want at the price I can afford, which is very reassuring. I'm slightly terrified by the prospect of paying 2000+ in rent per month, but NYC is expensive and it can't be helped. At least if we can win these grants, I'll have a good chance of successfully petitioning for a raise. It's funny to think that the pay that I always felt was excessive while I lived in Indiana, and is certainly adequate now, will barely allow me to make ends meet without a roommate in NYC. And I reallllly want to live alone, for a variety of reasons. So yay seeing that at least it'll be possible. :)
The fight had me so distracted that I couldn’t follow any of the other play. Before me, Deletrious and Ubelwalt appeared to have completely forgotten that there was a Quidditch match going on. Baer was gone, presumably for medical help, and the bludgers were largely ignored. Both bludgers, therefore, seemed to think it an excellent time to take vengeance on their attackers, and as the two huge men (Ubelwalt, who must have been 8 feet tall, was the shorter of the two) were attacking each other with fists, bats, kicks, head butts, all 50 feet of the ground, while the bludgers mercilessly peppered both of them with blows. This was hardly appropriate Quidditch behavior, but for long minutes the medieval snitch – who was, after all, acting as the referee for this match – did nothing.
I can’t say I know which particular thing that occurred caused the snitch to decide that enough was enough, but finally the snitch shrieked, “Foul to both sides! Foul! Foul! Foul!” Maybe it wasn’t even the fight that prompted this, I truly do not know. I easily blocked Silberholz’s attempt to score, and then was as easily foiled by yet another of Durmstrang’s fake-outs when Mathilde scored; at least Reginald managed to score for our side, as well. I felt my continued failures with nothing but bitter self-recrimination, though later many of my friends and classmates would agree that they were shocked I’d even been able to continue the match after the treatment I’d sustained, and that they didn’t hold my failures against me.
The fight finally broken up, I was able to follow what was going on again, just in time to see Lydia diving, and to make out the glitter towards which she headed. Lars was ahead of her. My breath caught in my throat. I’d lost track of the current score, and I greatly feared that even if Lydia managed to capture the snitch, we would still lose, but certainly if Lars got it there could be no other ending. They were both, so close, and rushing towards the ground at fatal speeds. Undeterred, Lydia actually threw her weight to one side, and skimmed the ground at an utterly terrifying, physics-defying right angle. I still feared it would not be enough, when she suddenly through herself from her broom, directly in front of Lars as he grasped for the snitch.
I suppose I should have been paying attention to the game. The Durmstrang chasers could have scored any number of times while I allowed myself to be utterly distracted by the chase for the snitch, but I couldn’t take my eyes from it nor, I later learned, could any of the others, really. Lydia’s fingers closed on the snitch, our adjudicator ended the game, and I saw the score for the first time. I’m sure we all thought the same thing simultaneously: for the score stood at 180 to 170, but it was not Hogwarts in the lead. For everything that we had done, we had lost anyway, and it was entirely my fault.
The noise of the stadium was overwhelming, but it couldn’t drown out a voice from far down the pitch. “Could somebody get me down from here?” It was little Reginald who – I wish I had seen myself! – had been attacked by Gregor Langhaar such that he had been hurled, javelin like, through one of the Quidditch hoops. Broom lost, he now rested, legs dangling desperately, wedged neatly in, and in his possession was the quaffle. The score ticked over to a tie, for, after a moments deliberation, the snitch declared firmly that the quaffle that Reginald bore had most definitely passed through the ring, and therefore was a score.
And so the match ended in a perfectly satisfactory, perfectly unsatisfactory, tie.
Normally, I think, a tie would have elicited no particular good spirits. However, with everything that had happened in the match, with the moment in which we all thought that Hogwarts had lost despite all that we could do, a tie seemed to be taken with even better cheer than a win might have been. This feeling was surely amplified by the good will with which the Durmstrangs handled their loss. Now that the match was over, they all seemed to lose their utter air of superiority; indeed, Ubelwalt demonstrated genuine pleasantness in the days afterwards, talking often with Deletrious, exchanging whatever sorts of information two giants might wish to share with each other. For, we were told, the Durmstrangs and their headmaster were to remain with us for at least the rest of the year. No one seemed to know why this was, but now that the match was over, and over in a way which neither side could really resent, most people took it as a matter of course and surprisingly few questions were asked. Nox was still clearly not welcome, but nor was there any polite way to send him off, so the intrusion was accepted, and soon no one thought about it twice.
It was, as I had feared, the better part of the week before I began to feel very much better. Once the match was completed, I was able to get much more effective medical treatment than could be afforded during it, but even so I was so generally bruised and concussed that there was only so much that could be done. I was thankful that nearly all of the pain was eliminated, though, and as such I had merely the stiffness to contend with.
Classes, of course, resumed the very next day, and at once I was as busy as I ever had been. Now that the match was completed, the normal Quidditch schedule was to resume, and so I had the unenviable task of trying to organize the pitiful Ravenclaw team. Meanwhile, I now had to assume all of the duties of Head Girl. In my fondest fancies, I had thought that this would mean that I would get to spend more time with Marcus, as surely our duties would parallel, but indeed nearly the exact opposite proved to be the case. It was not uncommon for two prefects to be assigned to a single task, since there were generally eight prefects in total, but there was only one head girl and only one head boy, and as such there was far more need than manpower, which meant that the two were almost never assigned to the same duty. Thus, it was not until the meeting that Marcus had proposed for the following weekend that I next got to see him for more than a minute at a time.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2007-11-18 09:55 pm (UTC)You know I'm not gonna try and make you get a roommate (we see how that worked out last time :P), but 2gs just sounds painful. I make a lot more than you do, and after this bonus time, will make even more, and I can't see myself paying anywhere near that much, even after the raise. It's tough as hell, I would reconsider =\
*huggles* If you do decide to go through with it anyway, lemme know. I like painting things :)
-- Gerardo
no subject
Date: 2007-11-19 12:45 am (UTC)As for painting things, I was thinking about that just the other day, and thinking how nice it'd be to paint my apartment, so as not to have white walls for once!! And now I know who to call to help me. Excelllllant. :)
no subject
Date: 2007-11-25 08:11 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-11-25 02:12 pm (UTC)You didn't.
See, originally, the Quidditch match was supposed to be a few days after the ball. BUT, of course, the Ball was held as the November game, and then you guys were going to write up the match based on BGA's people sent in. However, due to various snafu's and delay's, and the fact - I suspect, though I don't recall for certain - that attendance at interlude's isn't as good as that at games, the Quidditch match didn't ACTUALLY end up getting held until December's game. So of COURSE the Durmstrangs, and Nox, were still around; they had to be because there was a month and a half between the Quidditch match and the ball!
Unfortunately, though, I didn't think this made all that much sense from a narrative stand point (just like I find the structure of Goblet of Fire to be utterly beyond belief and impossible) and so I put the Quidditch game where it was originally supposed to be.
This presented a problem - Nox has to be around in January, for obvious reasons. Unable to think of any GOOD reason, though, I instead decided to opt for a bad one: Delia doesn't know why. No one knows why. Wild theory abounds. Why would the Headmaster allow it? etc.
What I suspect? The Headmaster was too busy being cute with Auror Weasley and too busy being convinced of his superiority to Nox to worry about it until it was too late - if Nox was wasting time at Hogwarts, then he wasn't involved in the war in Europe, and that was fine by him.
And, of course, we know why Nox wanted to stay, more or less.
So Delia will probably never learn the truth, and it will simply remain a mystery. ;)