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Post by Fivel Vanderholt on Jun 27, 2011 12:16:51 GMT -5
 - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - LOCATION: THE OWLERY | TAG: OPEN | NOTES: JOIN JOIN JOIN! (: - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
It was a weekend morning and the grounds on the north west of Hogwarts were bathed in a dawn glow of sunlight. Along the path which lead up through a cave and continued towards the Owlery travelled Fivel. Jogging up the steps, she looked out onto the distant stretch of green that was the Quidditch pitch and noticed it was vacant and unsurprisingly so. The year seemed to have a different atmosphere about it – not just for the seventh years who were busy with upcoming N.E.W.T’s but for the whole school. There was still a strong sense of absence that polluted the area ever since the end of sixth year, suffocating almost everyone – although no one really admitted it out loud. All sense of spirit had seemed to vanish from Hogwarts, making everyone feel as empty as the ghosts that roamed the school. The meals in the Great Hall were not accompanied by the sound of raucous conversation but an odd, tense formality – people still talked but it was wary, people still laughed but only if another person did first. Hogwarts as it were was no more.
Rounding the corner of the Owlery upon reaching the landing, Fivel ducked cautiously as an eagle-owl flew overhead before making her way over to her own bird. Like she did most mornings she had free, Fivel had taken the time to visit her owl Jacquimo, not to check for any letters but just to maintain its wellbeing and as odd as it seemed – see how it was doing. The owl was small and could easily fit into both palms, upon buying the animal her mother had warned her it would be useful to send anything big and important but Fivel quite stubbornly refused to pass up the chance of purchasing him. She spotted it easily, perched upon one of the stone ledges, it’s light brown feathers looking different from the last time she had seen the; “C’mere Jacquimo!” She called fondly, her arm prepped for its landing as the little owl swooped over to her. Scratching behind his ears, she examined his feathers further and frowned. A dark red stain blemished his russet feathers and with further inspection, a small wound was visible. Lowering her arm and allowing the bird to hop onto the window ledge they stood beside, Fivel muttered, “What happened this time; hunting for mice too close to the Whomping Willow or get into another tussle with one of the other owls here?”
Wouldn’t be surprised if it were the latter, she thought, trying to figure out the cause of her owls injury, knowing the birds temperament and how it was as fiery as her own. Retrieving her wand, she pointed it at the dried blood, “Tergeo” She watched as the blood siphoned from its feathers. “Now, let’s see here… ” She muttered, moving his feathers to the side slightly causing the bird to fidget and peck at her hand. “Episk--Ouch! Hold still Jac!” She had begun the charm, flinching her hand away as he hooted irritably causing Fivel to give her own impatient reaction. Reaching into her pocket she withdrew a nugget sized treat from the open bag of Eeylops Premium Owl Treats, feeding it to Jac and trying again, “Here, keep that in your beak while I fix you up. Right… Episkey!” Her second try succeeded. Fivel smiled; quite pleased with the job she had done as the wound began to heal before her eyes, taking out another owl treat before feeding it to Jacquimo just as the sound of footsteps arrived near the door.
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Post by Blaise Zabini on Jun 29, 2011 6:43:02 GMT -5
Blaise had never been the most talkative student in the school. In fact, much of his intimidation factor was based on the fact that he was silent. The times when he was around Draco Malfoy and his goons had given him the reputation in his youth of being one of Malfoy's followers, but he had since amended such rumors by not only insulting his friend, but by actually being intelligent enough to stand on his own two feet and not take a side. His loner status coupled with a natural need to survive made his stay at Hogwarts even during these times quite simple. He didn't care for the torture that went on, but because he had yet to be involved with that, it hardly affected him. It was the people who couldn't shut out their humanity that were struggling. Well, those and the ones who couldn't charm their way out of a paper bag. Neville Longbottom fit into both categories. Blaise smirked to think where he was going to end up by the end of the year.
To sum it up, while Blaise would never join the Death Eaters and found those who did to be incredibly pathetic and unmotivated, he also wasn't going to speak against them by himself or among friends. As far as he was concerned, one side would win out and the other was to be destroyed completely. The only logical step was to stay on the outside and allow people to draw their own conclusions about him. If he was a Slytherin pure-blood they had made their minds up that he must also be a supporter of Voldemort.
The most troubling part of the whole thing was Blaise's mother, and her fretful response to being separated from her son during these times. It was rather annoying to Blaise that she would want him around now, but ignore him when the times were calm and he would perhaps have wanted her company more. In the summer before this school year his mother hadn't entertained quite the usual number of guests. She had the tendency to keep the curtains drawn and listen quietly to music, almost waiting for someone to break in. The Death Eaters would be less interested in their family than most of the others because while they had never been one of the families to fall into Voldemort's numbers, they were also pure-bloods who would undoubtedly come to his side if the inevitable happened. If ever they became targets they still wouldn't be as high priority as a mudblood or, perhaps more so, a blood traitor. Nevertheless Blaise did what he could in writing to his mother. He never spoke about the school or spoke about anything of importance at all. What with the owls being watched at best or even stopped. But it was enough. This way, Desideria knew that her son was safe and unharmed.
Blaise walked to the owlery with one such letter in hand. When he drew close he heard a girl's voice from inside. That was odd, somehow, because he rarely came across anyone when he was in the owlery. He never really had. He seemed to have a knack for choosing a time of day that would give him the space to send out the letter without meaningless conversation or even someone trying to peek over his shoulder at what he was sending out. He looked around the door before actually entering. The girl, who he didn't know, seemed to be taking care of a wounded owl. Blaise hoped that it was hers and that she wasn't some bleeding heart. He ignored her at first and looked around for an owl that looked strong enough to carry the letter that he had accidentally drawn on too long. His family had an owl but he didn't like to send him out very often in case something should happen, so a school owl would have to do for this heavier load. What did he care if a school owl were to become exhausted or even die? It must happen all the time.
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