Birthright: A Muggleborn Quest
- Thread starter Zhade
- Start date
WanderingEye
smol skeleton
[X] Buy Nothing
Maybe after one or two private tutoring session we might want to buy potion ingredients and cauldron upgrade.
Self-cleaning robe is kinda useful but I'm kinda ambivalent about it.
Maybe after one or two private tutoring session we might want to buy potion ingredients and cauldron upgrade.
Self-cleaning robe is kinda useful but I'm kinda ambivalent about it.
- Location
- Simi Valley, CA, United States
Going off of some of my thoughts last night:
[X] Basic Potion Ingredients Kit
[X] Cauldron (2 Galleon)
Also, I can already foresee McGonagall's reaction "You already have a subject you're interested in?"
"Well, I am an adult with my own skillset."
[X] Basic Potion Ingredients Kit
[X] Cauldron (2 Galleon)
Also, I can already foresee McGonagall's reaction "You already have a subject you're interested in?"
"Well, I am an adult with my own skillset."
- Location
- Victoria
[X] Buy Nothing
JuliusClonkus
Scatterbrained Speculator
- Location
- Federal Reichspublic of Karlsland
Secret Ability Unlocked: Magical Moonshine Distillery
Night_stalker
Slava Ukraini!
- Pronouns
- He/Him
[X] Basic Potion Ingredients Kit
[X] Cauldron (2 Galleon)
[X] Cauldron (2 Galleon)
- Location
- United States
[X] Buy Nothing
I change my Vote.
I change my Vote.
FriedIce
The Authentic Fake
- Location
- Hyperreality
I don't like doing this but as a recent graduate from a British university (not Oxbridge) the mangling here is a bit too painful to not comment. I'm on my phone, so apologies if I come off a bit terse.
1) You don't get into Oxford, you get into an Oxford college. These range from decently prestigious and wealthy (Lincon) to stupidly prestigious and wealthy (Christchurch). Fun fact: the great hall from Harry Potter was filmed in Christchurch college.
2) UCAS don't (to my memory) send letters (well they might but I just remember getting an email).
3) there's a level of uni between Oxbridge and the ex-pollys (which themselves have a range of quality) called the Russel Group. These tend to be top ten (UK) and top 100 (international) so they're not shit. You may want to consider including an option for them.
4) there's a London university (and it's not that shit) so you may want to rephrase your London option. Also I doubt someone working an entry level non-graduate job could to afford to live in London.
5) there's no such thing as pre-med in the Uk. You're either a med student or you're not (that's a lie, there are some BSc course you can take that allow you to transition into medicine but A) they're super rare and B) Oxford doesn't offer them (A friend of mine is doing medicine there)).
6) Computer engineering is called computer science.
7) No such degree as actuarial science (at least not that I've heard of - it's so overspecialised you'd be an idiot to take it) degrees with lots of maths in them include Maths, economics, physics and most other sciences (because statistics). Of those the only ones where you could hope to puzzle out economics is maths and economics. People go into accountancy via post-graduate qualifications.
8) If you want an arts subject I'd suggest you swap architecture put for something like Fine Art, or History. Architecture is a specialised course which is 6(? Might be 8) years long from start to finish.
9) No one says Ma'am in the UK
10) if tomorrow is the start of freshers then they're probably at university already. Most people arrive the weekend before freshers starts.
11) I'm not sure what you're referring to by 'after my tuition'. Tuition in the uk is provided to students by the government as a loan. Perhaps phrase it as 'after my loan' if you're aiming for 'after my money' because that would include the maintenance loan too.
12) most people in the uk will know at least one person at their uni already (I knew 3 just on my course). If you're at Oxford, odds are you'll know more because odds are you went to public school.
13) also, even unis the other side of Britain tend not to be more than 6-7 hours away from home. I went as far west as it's possible to go in GB and I was still only 5hrs away from home. Visits from parents do happen.
14) accents are important. (I can't really stress this enough - especially at Oxford) We really need to decide where we're from and what our background is.
15) Cantabury Christchurch isn't actually that shit a uni. It's not Portsmouth by any means. I'd probably put it a tier below UEA (which is a tier below Exeter which is a tier below Oxbridge)
16) only chumps do medicine at Oxford (yes I include my friend in that). It's 3 years of theory before you get to actually practise anything, compared to the normal 1-2 years. Also, if you're looking for a prestigious option medicine at Oxbridge is less prestigious than doing it at the London Med Schools.
That's it, if have more but I'm on my phone. Those are the main things.
- Location
- Too Deep in the Midnight Sea
Meh, it's not magical cloth or anything.
- Location
- Canada
1. Ashton is in Univ.
2. Fair, but it's not that much of a leap in logic. Many universities still do.
3. The options are less about the schools themselves and more about the locations.
4. The London option would have you using your tuition money to afford a place on the outskirts until your money situation improved.
5/6/7/8. Fudged the subjects a bit to allow for easier working on my parts (and allow quick understanding by the players). You're not going to learn about them at any rates, mainly see the effects on Ashton's outlook and personality. Someone who studied finance is going to look at the magical world differently than someone who studied the sciences.
9. Fair.
10. He is.
11. Fair.
12/13. Not Ashton.
14. Fair. I am Canadian, so the dialogue may not come off as authentic.
15. The locations do no denote intelligence really (yes, even the London option), but more your initial starting location.
16. Didn't know about the London prestige thing, but yes, know about the UK doctor roadmap.
While I do appreciate the critique and the chance to improve my work, I must ask that you hold off on it until you've read the other chapters, which answers some of your questions.
But, again, I do appreciate this. PM if you want to beta the future chapters.
- Location
- nz
[X] Buy Nothing
- Location
- Utah
[X] Cauldron (2 Galleon)
[X] Basic Potion Ingredients Kit (1 Galleons)
A large parcel of common potion ingredients, useful for the novice to the enthusiast. Gives the ability to brew potions up toa Third Year Hogwarts student.
-[X] Subscription (15 S/month)
Owl-Delivered parcels that arrive at the beginning of each moon. Smaller than the Potion kit, but consistent deliveries.
Useful.
[X] Basic Potion Ingredients Kit (1 Galleons)
A large parcel of common potion ingredients, useful for the novice to the enthusiast. Gives the ability to brew potions up toa Third Year Hogwarts student.
-[X] Subscription (15 S/month)
Owl-Delivered parcels that arrive at the beginning of each moon. Smaller than the Potion kit, but consistent deliveries.
Useful.
Malaquez
[MUFFLED EUROBEAT]
- Location
- Singapore
Well, it does have Self Repair already on it, so I'm leery about putting magic and mundane electronics together. I remember that electronics don't work in Hogwarts because of the sheer magic in the air, and while the robe doesn't really compare to that, I'm not taking chances.
I do like the idea of self cleaning clothes though. It sounds like the dream for any student.
- Location
- Too Deep in the Midnight Sea
London is fine with a giant web of tunnels and magical protections under it. And Diagon Ally in the middle of it.
[X] Cauldron (2 Galleon)
[X] Basic Potion Ingredients Kit (1 Galleons)
A large parcel of common potion ingredients, useful for the novice to the enthusiast. Gives the ability to brew potions up toa Third Year Hogwarts student.
-[X] Subscription (15 S/month)
Owl-Delivered parcels that arrive at the beginning of each moon. Smaller than the Potion kit, but consistent deliveries.
[X] Basic Potion Ingredients Kit (1 Galleons)
A large parcel of common potion ingredients, useful for the novice to the enthusiast. Gives the ability to brew potions up toa Third Year Hogwarts student.
-[X] Subscription (15 S/month)
Owl-Delivered parcels that arrive at the beginning of each moon. Smaller than the Potion kit, but consistent deliveries.
Malaquez
[MUFFLED EUROBEAT]
- Location
- Singapore
I assume that the spell/barrier that prevents mundane people from seeing the Leaky Cauldron/Diagon Alley/etc. helps in...blocking off(?) any interference between the two areas.
As for the MoM, I'm pretty sure that there's magical shielding, which also blocks off interference.
Of course, these are just guesses, so I guess gotta wait for WoG.
Same, I had to wear a uniform once. It was a pain.
Self cleaning AND self ironing? Sign me up.
Interlude: Grey Manes
- Location
- Canada
"Scandalous Sojourns! Headmistress caught in Salacious Rendezvous with Mysterious Stranger! Full details on page 17!"
McGonagall looked annoyed. "Page 17? Really? That's it?"
The woman sitting opposite her stifled a chuckle and flipped the pages to continue reading.
"In what appears to be a shocking turn of events, the esteemed Headmistress of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry was seen yesterday in Diagon Alley, consorting with a tall, handsome wizard as they traversed the solitary streets! Who, or more sinisterly, what is this mysterious figure who seems to enjoy a close relationship with the Headmistress of the school of our children? Our reporters indicate that-"
"It seems a bit out of order," McGonagall interrupted, looking pensive. "I feel a scandal involving a major educational figure would at least merit a front page paragraph."
"The Weekend Watchtower is not the most esteemed of newspapers, Professor. Their priorities differ." The woman put the newspaper down flat on her desk. There was a small picture of McGonagall and the "handsome stranger" near the top of the page, the figures in it looking furtive and shameful. "But the matter is, you were spotted and there will be questions. Nothing serious, but I must warn you that not hitting the right mix of contempt and annoyance will only draw more."
"Mrs. Granger, I fear you've forgotten the days when you were my student." Said McGonagall, a hint of the old sternness coming through.
The current Minister of Magic gave a wry smile at that, before smoothing her features again. "How was he?"
McGonagall raised an eyebrow. "Ashton? Mrs Granger, don't tell you actually believe these insinuations-"
"Professor."
A tired sign. "Would you happen have anything to wet an old woman's throat?"
Hermione made no movement, but suddenly a tray appeared in mid-air, positioned between the two women, laden with beverages and cups. McGonagall nodded in thanks and poured herself a glass of Gillywater.
A few minutes passed as the Professor sipped her drink.
"Distant. He's clever, anyone can see that, but he holds himself away from others. Like there's an invisible line he does not wish to cross. I do not know if he's always like this, that his aloofness is part of his personality or if he does not trust me, does not trust the Magical world yet."
"That tells me nothing." Hermione frowned.
McGonagall shrugged. "It's because I have nothing. If you want a breakdown on his character, I would have just put the Sorting Hat on his head and be done with it."
"That would have upset matters. Bell cannot be sorted." Hermione said.
"I know, I know." McGonagall waved away the warning. "An idle hope. Hogwarts is meant to be a home, and I hoped we could have provided some semblance of the fact."
"That aside," Hermione's voice was firm. "Were there any warning bells? Anything that would require attention?"
"No. Aside from the distance, Ashton is polite and well-mannered. He follows the rules, can act independently and has enough curiosity for a Ravenclaw. I can see no issues arising between him and my staff." McGonagall took another sip from her glass.
Hermione breathed. "That's some relief."
She got up from the plain looking chair and took a glass of Firewhiskey from the tray, heading to the window. The room they were in was not the official meeting room of the minister, all polished bronze and tasteful paintings. This was the room were actual work got done, not just simple diplomacy. Spartan, it had no decorations and furniture only when it was needed. A single window hung behind the simple desk (when there was one), enchanted to look out onto whatever vistas the Minister wished to see.
At the moment, it looked onto a sun-drenched plain of spreading wheat, with a storm on the horizon.
"It's been five years, hasn't it?" Hermione's voice was soft. "Time is so fleeting, it feels like we were having arguments over this boy just yesterday."
McGonagall took another swig. "That sounds like regret, Mrs Granger."
"Not regret. Just melancholy. Our part is done; now everything rests on Bell's shoulders."
"Ashton." McGonagall said quietly, too soft to be heard. Hermione looked at her questioningly, but the Headmistress shook her head. "Forgive me, my old feet are dragging."
"Professor, you can't-" Hermione began, concerned.
"No dear, I understand how important this is. You wouldn't have my support otherwise. I'm just tired. I'm not made for all this scheming. I'm a teacher, not a politician." McGonagall poured another shot of Gillywater into her now empty cup. "Doubts grow like weed in minds like mine."
"If it will make you feel any better," Hermione took her again, facing Mcgonagall. "What's done is done. The charade has been pulled off, the dice has been thrown. You don't need to lie anymore."
A moment passed in silence, as both women contemplated their drinks. McGonagall was the first to speak.
"The Head of a House feels little pride when a student is Sorted into their house. We have no knowledge of what they are capable of, how they will benefit our House. It is almost like opening a present, discovering what kind of people they are, and finding ways to help them grow."
Hermione put down her drink. McGonagall didn't notice, too absorbed in her glass and the past.
"When you started winning all those points, Mrs Granger, I was so proud. It is rare for a Gryffindor to earn House points in classrooms. We tend to earn them on the field and in meetings with the Head of House, after doing brave, reckless things. And then there you were, earning point after point, triumphing over even Ravenclaws. I must admit, I teased poor Filius greatly over that." McGonagall smiled wryly.
"I just never thought, never considered, that despite all your brilliance, your cleverness and love of learning. That despite all that, you were Sorted into Gryffindor."
Hermione took a deep breath. "Are you regretting the choice now?"
McGonagall looked up, shocked. "Good heavens, no! Don't you ever think that, Mrs Granger!"
Hermione took up her drink again. "Very well. Then, what was the point behind your reminiscence?"
"It just seemed to me that only a Gryffindor would be brave enough to think of a plan like this."McGonagall said, leaning back in her chair.
"As cold as it sounds, five years of a boy's life is a small sacrifice to pay for what Magical Britian may gain." Hermioned frowned. "It doesn't mean I have to like it."
McGonagall nodded quietly. "Three years, is it? Three years, and if he hasn't graduated, then the whole thing collapses?"
"Not so much collapses as vanishes. Lies became the truth, you and I pretend this never happened and I find my work increased tenfold." Hermione signed. "But yes. If all goes well, Bell won't even need to see me. He can complete his education without being none the wiser, about what's going on behind the curtain or that we knew of him when he was thirteen. From now on, we're hands off."
McGonagall looked at Hermione, at the woman that once been the eager, bright little girl all those years ago. She felt anachronistic. "Just so we're clear, Hogwarts will always have a place for Ashton, even if it takes him ten years to finish his education."
Hermione smiled. "I wouldn't have it any other way."
McGonagall put down her drink with a clink on the desk and straightened herself. "Now then. You can't have called me on such short notice just for him. Something else is going on."
Hermione straightened herself as well. Gone was the woman who was having drinks with an old mentor, and it was not replaced by the smiling, friendly Minister mask she wore in public. This expression was hardened, haunted, a remnant of the Second Wizarding War.
"Tang is sending out another expedition into the Dreamtime."
McGonagall's fingers whitened on her glass. "Have they gone mad? What about Ashoka? Rus'? How are they reacting? The ICW? Will Europe-"
"Most of Europe wants to erect the strongest Continental Shield Charm we can cast and hope that whatever happens, it will only affect the East. Some are even hoping this will knock the Tang off their pedestals." Hermione's voice was grim.
"Fools." McGonagall whispered. "How long do we have?"
"I don't know. My sources say they'll be breaching the first Songline within a month but beyond that? Well, you know how time works there. They could have reached the fifth Songline, if there is a fifth, and we won't know about it until months or years later." Hermione took a deep breath.
"I take it the only thing we can do for now is organize?" Asked McGonagall cautiously.
"There is a list of people I need contacting, but not yet There are still a few key pieces of intel we need before we can start moving." Hermione smiled. "It's Sunday evening, Professor. It's not a time for working. Ron's even having a little get together. I suggest you follow suit and try to get some rest. You're going to need it."
Annabelle slammed down her tankard a scant few seconds before her sister. "Hah! I still got it!"
Amelie glared at her, her eyes unfocused down to the alcohol. "Yeah, well I'm an Auror! Who's the loser now!"
"Ames, you it's been a month since you got your Auror certs, you can't keep bragging about it." Annabelle responded, gesturing to the bartender for another round. "Seriously, everyone stopped caring after a week."
"I care!" cried Amelie. She began sobbing into her empty tankard. The bartender gave one look, and handed only Annabelle a new drink. "I care so much!"
"Alright, there there." Amelie rubbed her sister's back. She was the older, by a year, and she was always better at holding her liquor. This wasn't a new phenomenon for her. "You're a good Auror, yes you are. And good Aurors don't cry, do they?"
"Yes they do." moaned Amelie. "It's very important for our psy-psych-psychosis! Harry Potter even says so!"
"Really?" said Annabelle, amused. Everyone who knew Amelie was aware of the young girl's hero worship of her mentor. "And what else does the great Harry Potter say?"
"He's not here, silly." Her sister giggled and then hiccuped. "I asked if he had wanted to come, but he said no...said he had to finish some work on the Nadir case...and then go to a dinner party..."
Amelie trailed off morose, and then slowly started to list to the side. "Stupid Nadir and stupid parties..."
Annabelle made sure the Privacy Charm was up around her and her sister before continuing. It probably wasn't anything important, but being a Herbologist taught her to always be careful. "Nadir? Isn't that the burglar you ran into a few weeks back? The one the Aurors have never laid eyes on? You still searching for her?"
"Noooppe." grinned Amelie proudly. "Me and Harry Potter laid eyes on her. Almost caught her *hic* too, but she got away at the last *hic*..."
She hiccuped again. "Stupid."
"Huh." Annabelle murmured, glad she had put up the Privacy charm now. "That wasn't in the papers. I thought you had missed her by seconds."
"We diiid-" This time, it was more a blech than a hiccup. "Shot a few spells ba-back and forth, but they all missed, and then, and then she was gone."
She spread her hands slowly, as to emphasize exactly how the thief had vanished.
"Really?" Annabelle said, amused. "A simple thief managed to flee from both Harry Potter and his plucky protegee?"
Amelie pouted, and then her eyes started to droop dangerously. Her sister never really got the hang of drinking.
"Alright, we're done here. Let's get you home." Annabelle dropped a few Sickles onto the countertop and heaved her sister up onto her shoulder. The bar was just beginning to get lively, a dozen people were in and more were trickling through by the minute. But her sister was having a rough week and she needed to get her home. Perhaps she could come back later, after she had tucked Amelie in.
Annabelle grabbed a pinch of Floo Powder, whispered the name of Amelie's house into it and threw it into the bar's fireplace. Grunting a bit, she used a bit of magic to help shift her sister's rapidly comatose form into the green flames.
Amelie woke up again as they exited the warmth of the flames, and blinked bleary eyes as her lamps came on. "Whazza?"
"It's your home, Ames. Please try and remember, otherwise I'll be arrested for kidnapping an Auror." She took out her wand and used it to open the door to her sister's bedroom. "Now, I'm going to lock things up and leave you a note, so don't freak out on me tomorrow OK?"
Her sister gurgled, and then vomited.
Annabelle rolled her eyes and set to work Vanishing the vomit. Internally, she was still mulling over what Amelie had let slip earlier. It was...weird really. Maybe it was one of those super secret Auror rules? Not informing the press when their Head was outsmarted by a lowly thief? Whatever, not her business. As long as Amelie was always there for an evening of drinking, Annabelle tried not to get too involved in her sister's field of work, or her famous mentor.
It took a few more seconds to clean everything up and then tuck Amelie in, and casting a few quick charms on herself to freshen up, before she felt ready to head back to the bar. Who knows, she may even get lucky and find someone nice to spend the night with.
Of course, that was when her sister just had to start prophesying.
"It has come," The voice that issued from her sister's mouth was both intimately familiar and terrifyingly alien. "It will come. It has passed. The lightning will regain it's promise before the world has returned here twice, for it is not the-the-the-"
Amelie's eyes suddenly rolled into the back of her head and a keening sound came out of her mouth, before they snapped shut. And then, painfully slow, her eyes opened to look up at Annabelle's worried face.
"Ann? Wha-? Am I back home? What happened?" Amelie's voice was normal, holding none of the eerie acoustics her "Seer" voice had. "Did you drag me from the bar? Merlin, Ann, you know you can just cast a spell to get rid of-"
"Ames." Annabelle interrupted. "You had a vision. It looked big. And then you were interrupted."
Amelie looked up at her sister. "Fuck."
Annabelle nodded solemnly and went to grab some water and parchment. This was looking to be a long night, and not in the way she had planned.
GM: Ok, first month planning coming up next. I'll need to finalize your character sheet before then, the budget and time allotment is being finicky.
The big thing you should take away from this update is that your Insightful trait isn't omnipotent; there are still things that you may miss or falsely attribute due to you not knowing the person well enough. That, and Ron's driving test is coming up. Shit's intense.
Oh, and a bit of a teaser, but I was doing some background rolls for Ashton last update and rolled for Attractiveness on a flat d100. You critted. Twice. Unfortunately, Ashton is the type that dislikes attention so he isn't that aware of it, but whenever he decides to doll himself up (like for the last update), he literally turns heads.
McGonagall looked annoyed. "Page 17? Really? That's it?"
The woman sitting opposite her stifled a chuckle and flipped the pages to continue reading.
"In what appears to be a shocking turn of events, the esteemed Headmistress of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry was seen yesterday in Diagon Alley, consorting with a tall, handsome wizard as they traversed the solitary streets! Who, or more sinisterly, what is this mysterious figure who seems to enjoy a close relationship with the Headmistress of the school of our children? Our reporters indicate that-"
"It seems a bit out of order," McGonagall interrupted, looking pensive. "I feel a scandal involving a major educational figure would at least merit a front page paragraph."
"The Weekend Watchtower is not the most esteemed of newspapers, Professor. Their priorities differ." The woman put the newspaper down flat on her desk. There was a small picture of McGonagall and the "handsome stranger" near the top of the page, the figures in it looking furtive and shameful. "But the matter is, you were spotted and there will be questions. Nothing serious, but I must warn you that not hitting the right mix of contempt and annoyance will only draw more."
"Mrs. Granger, I fear you've forgotten the days when you were my student." Said McGonagall, a hint of the old sternness coming through.
The current Minister of Magic gave a wry smile at that, before smoothing her features again. "How was he?"
McGonagall raised an eyebrow. "Ashton? Mrs Granger, don't tell you actually believe these insinuations-"
"Professor."
A tired sign. "Would you happen have anything to wet an old woman's throat?"
Hermione made no movement, but suddenly a tray appeared in mid-air, positioned between the two women, laden with beverages and cups. McGonagall nodded in thanks and poured herself a glass of Gillywater.
A few minutes passed as the Professor sipped her drink.
"Distant. He's clever, anyone can see that, but he holds himself away from others. Like there's an invisible line he does not wish to cross. I do not know if he's always like this, that his aloofness is part of his personality or if he does not trust me, does not trust the Magical world yet."
"That tells me nothing." Hermione frowned.
McGonagall shrugged. "It's because I have nothing. If you want a breakdown on his character, I would have just put the Sorting Hat on his head and be done with it."
"That would have upset matters. Bell cannot be sorted." Hermione said.
"I know, I know." McGonagall waved away the warning. "An idle hope. Hogwarts is meant to be a home, and I hoped we could have provided some semblance of the fact."
"That aside," Hermione's voice was firm. "Were there any warning bells? Anything that would require attention?"
"No. Aside from the distance, Ashton is polite and well-mannered. He follows the rules, can act independently and has enough curiosity for a Ravenclaw. I can see no issues arising between him and my staff." McGonagall took another sip from her glass.
Hermione breathed. "That's some relief."
She got up from the plain looking chair and took a glass of Firewhiskey from the tray, heading to the window. The room they were in was not the official meeting room of the minister, all polished bronze and tasteful paintings. This was the room were actual work got done, not just simple diplomacy. Spartan, it had no decorations and furniture only when it was needed. A single window hung behind the simple desk (when there was one), enchanted to look out onto whatever vistas the Minister wished to see.
At the moment, it looked onto a sun-drenched plain of spreading wheat, with a storm on the horizon.
"It's been five years, hasn't it?" Hermione's voice was soft. "Time is so fleeting, it feels like we were having arguments over this boy just yesterday."
McGonagall took another swig. "That sounds like regret, Mrs Granger."
"Not regret. Just melancholy. Our part is done; now everything rests on Bell's shoulders."
"Ashton." McGonagall said quietly, too soft to be heard. Hermione looked at her questioningly, but the Headmistress shook her head. "Forgive me, my old feet are dragging."
"Professor, you can't-" Hermione began, concerned.
"No dear, I understand how important this is. You wouldn't have my support otherwise. I'm just tired. I'm not made for all this scheming. I'm a teacher, not a politician." McGonagall poured another shot of Gillywater into her now empty cup. "Doubts grow like weed in minds like mine."
"If it will make you feel any better," Hermione took her again, facing Mcgonagall. "What's done is done. The charade has been pulled off, the dice has been thrown. You don't need to lie anymore."
A moment passed in silence, as both women contemplated their drinks. McGonagall was the first to speak.
"The Head of a House feels little pride when a student is Sorted into their house. We have no knowledge of what they are capable of, how they will benefit our House. It is almost like opening a present, discovering what kind of people they are, and finding ways to help them grow."
Hermione put down her drink. McGonagall didn't notice, too absorbed in her glass and the past.
"When you started winning all those points, Mrs Granger, I was so proud. It is rare for a Gryffindor to earn House points in classrooms. We tend to earn them on the field and in meetings with the Head of House, after doing brave, reckless things. And then there you were, earning point after point, triumphing over even Ravenclaws. I must admit, I teased poor Filius greatly over that." McGonagall smiled wryly.
"I just never thought, never considered, that despite all your brilliance, your cleverness and love of learning. That despite all that, you were Sorted into Gryffindor."
Hermione took a deep breath. "Are you regretting the choice now?"
McGonagall looked up, shocked. "Good heavens, no! Don't you ever think that, Mrs Granger!"
Hermione took up her drink again. "Very well. Then, what was the point behind your reminiscence?"
"It just seemed to me that only a Gryffindor would be brave enough to think of a plan like this."McGonagall said, leaning back in her chair.
"As cold as it sounds, five years of a boy's life is a small sacrifice to pay for what Magical Britian may gain." Hermioned frowned. "It doesn't mean I have to like it."
McGonagall nodded quietly. "Three years, is it? Three years, and if he hasn't graduated, then the whole thing collapses?"
"Not so much collapses as vanishes. Lies became the truth, you and I pretend this never happened and I find my work increased tenfold." Hermione signed. "But yes. If all goes well, Bell won't even need to see me. He can complete his education without being none the wiser, about what's going on behind the curtain or that we knew of him when he was thirteen. From now on, we're hands off."
McGonagall looked at Hermione, at the woman that once been the eager, bright little girl all those years ago. She felt anachronistic. "Just so we're clear, Hogwarts will always have a place for Ashton, even if it takes him ten years to finish his education."
Hermione smiled. "I wouldn't have it any other way."
McGonagall put down her drink with a clink on the desk and straightened herself. "Now then. You can't have called me on such short notice just for him. Something else is going on."
Hermione straightened herself as well. Gone was the woman who was having drinks with an old mentor, and it was not replaced by the smiling, friendly Minister mask she wore in public. This expression was hardened, haunted, a remnant of the Second Wizarding War.
"Tang is sending out another expedition into the Dreamtime."
McGonagall's fingers whitened on her glass. "Have they gone mad? What about Ashoka? Rus'? How are they reacting? The ICW? Will Europe-"
"Most of Europe wants to erect the strongest Continental Shield Charm we can cast and hope that whatever happens, it will only affect the East. Some are even hoping this will knock the Tang off their pedestals." Hermione's voice was grim.
"Fools." McGonagall whispered. "How long do we have?"
"I don't know. My sources say they'll be breaching the first Songline within a month but beyond that? Well, you know how time works there. They could have reached the fifth Songline, if there is a fifth, and we won't know about it until months or years later." Hermione took a deep breath.
"I take it the only thing we can do for now is organize?" Asked McGonagall cautiously.
"There is a list of people I need contacting, but not yet There are still a few key pieces of intel we need before we can start moving." Hermione smiled. "It's Sunday evening, Professor. It's not a time for working. Ron's even having a little get together. I suggest you follow suit and try to get some rest. You're going to need it."
***
Annabelle slammed down her tankard a scant few seconds before her sister. "Hah! I still got it!"
Amelie glared at her, her eyes unfocused down to the alcohol. "Yeah, well I'm an Auror! Who's the loser now!"
"Ames, you it's been a month since you got your Auror certs, you can't keep bragging about it." Annabelle responded, gesturing to the bartender for another round. "Seriously, everyone stopped caring after a week."
"I care!" cried Amelie. She began sobbing into her empty tankard. The bartender gave one look, and handed only Annabelle a new drink. "I care so much!"
"Alright, there there." Amelie rubbed her sister's back. She was the older, by a year, and she was always better at holding her liquor. This wasn't a new phenomenon for her. "You're a good Auror, yes you are. And good Aurors don't cry, do they?"
"Yes they do." moaned Amelie. "It's very important for our psy-psych-psychosis! Harry Potter even says so!"
"Really?" said Annabelle, amused. Everyone who knew Amelie was aware of the young girl's hero worship of her mentor. "And what else does the great Harry Potter say?"
"He's not here, silly." Her sister giggled and then hiccuped. "I asked if he had wanted to come, but he said no...said he had to finish some work on the Nadir case...and then go to a dinner party..."
Amelie trailed off morose, and then slowly started to list to the side. "Stupid Nadir and stupid parties..."
Annabelle made sure the Privacy Charm was up around her and her sister before continuing. It probably wasn't anything important, but being a Herbologist taught her to always be careful. "Nadir? Isn't that the burglar you ran into a few weeks back? The one the Aurors have never laid eyes on? You still searching for her?"
"Noooppe." grinned Amelie proudly. "Me and Harry Potter laid eyes on her. Almost caught her *hic* too, but she got away at the last *hic*..."
She hiccuped again. "Stupid."
"Huh." Annabelle murmured, glad she had put up the Privacy charm now. "That wasn't in the papers. I thought you had missed her by seconds."
"We diiid-" This time, it was more a blech than a hiccup. "Shot a few spells ba-back and forth, but they all missed, and then, and then she was gone."
She spread her hands slowly, as to emphasize exactly how the thief had vanished.
"Really?" Annabelle said, amused. "A simple thief managed to flee from both Harry Potter and his plucky protegee?"
Amelie pouted, and then her eyes started to droop dangerously. Her sister never really got the hang of drinking.
"Alright, we're done here. Let's get you home." Annabelle dropped a few Sickles onto the countertop and heaved her sister up onto her shoulder. The bar was just beginning to get lively, a dozen people were in and more were trickling through by the minute. But her sister was having a rough week and she needed to get her home. Perhaps she could come back later, after she had tucked Amelie in.
Annabelle grabbed a pinch of Floo Powder, whispered the name of Amelie's house into it and threw it into the bar's fireplace. Grunting a bit, she used a bit of magic to help shift her sister's rapidly comatose form into the green flames.
Amelie woke up again as they exited the warmth of the flames, and blinked bleary eyes as her lamps came on. "Whazza?"
"It's your home, Ames. Please try and remember, otherwise I'll be arrested for kidnapping an Auror." She took out her wand and used it to open the door to her sister's bedroom. "Now, I'm going to lock things up and leave you a note, so don't freak out on me tomorrow OK?"
Her sister gurgled, and then vomited.
Annabelle rolled her eyes and set to work Vanishing the vomit. Internally, she was still mulling over what Amelie had let slip earlier. It was...weird really. Maybe it was one of those super secret Auror rules? Not informing the press when their Head was outsmarted by a lowly thief? Whatever, not her business. As long as Amelie was always there for an evening of drinking, Annabelle tried not to get too involved in her sister's field of work, or her famous mentor.
It took a few more seconds to clean everything up and then tuck Amelie in, and casting a few quick charms on herself to freshen up, before she felt ready to head back to the bar. Who knows, she may even get lucky and find someone nice to spend the night with.
Of course, that was when her sister just had to start prophesying.
"It has come," The voice that issued from her sister's mouth was both intimately familiar and terrifyingly alien. "It will come. It has passed. The lightning will regain it's promise before the world has returned here twice, for it is not the-the-the-"
Amelie's eyes suddenly rolled into the back of her head and a keening sound came out of her mouth, before they snapped shut. And then, painfully slow, her eyes opened to look up at Annabelle's worried face.
"Ann? Wha-? Am I back home? What happened?" Amelie's voice was normal, holding none of the eerie acoustics her "Seer" voice had. "Did you drag me from the bar? Merlin, Ann, you know you can just cast a spell to get rid of-"
"Ames." Annabelle interrupted. "You had a vision. It looked big. And then you were interrupted."
Amelie looked up at her sister. "Fuck."
Annabelle nodded solemnly and went to grab some water and parchment. This was looking to be a long night, and not in the way she had planned.
***
Ron poured three rounds of Butterbeer into three different cups and frowned. The Cooling Charms were wearing out on them, the drinks were losing heat quickly. Well, that's what happened when you tried enchanting your own kitchenware instead of sending it to a professional.
Of course, Hermione refused to accept that her job as the Minister of Magic was causing her Charmwork to get rusty, and simply complained that they needed to buy better kitchenware. Oh well, that's marriage. He checked the time left on the chicken before taking the cups out to the front porch.
"Oi, no talking shop now." He called out to Hermione and Harry, both of whom were talking very seriously over a sheet of heavily scribbled parchment. They both looked up and grinned at the full cups he was carrying. "Chicken is still cooking, but I got drinks while we wait. Ginny coming?"
"Not till later. Cheers mate." Harry snagged a cup and started chugging it down. By the time he had put it down, the cup was already slowly refilling itself. He signed. "Rough week."
"Stop! I don't want to hear about it." Ron groaned. Hermione took her own cup and snuggled up against him. "I didn't leave the Ministry to just to have you two bring it home."
"Ron, I am the Ministry." Hermione said, mock sternly. "Are you saying I should just stay at the office and never come home?"
"If you do that, me and the kids will just move in with you." Ron snorted. "Good luck getting any work done then."
Everyone chuckled at that mental image, and then fell into a comfortable silence. The sun was setting, the wind was warm, and Harry had put up the strongest wards he could to prevent any insects from reaching their food. A fairly standard Sunday evening.
Oh Merlin, Ron realized. I was supposed to go to that Driving Class today.
Driving Class. A dreaded part of the week where Ron sat in a car for one to two hours, subject to an endless tirade by his instructor as his car barely missed other cars, the pavement, pedestrians and one time, an adult Hippopotamus. Ron blamed that accidental piece of Conjuration on the fact that his instructor had been on a lecture for the past ten minutes and also because he had taken up the habit of leaving his wand in the backseat for fear of him jinxing the man one day.
And now, he would get another earful for skipping out on his appointment completely unannounced.
Hermione noticed her husband's body tensing up. "What's wrong? You forgot the chicken?"
"Hah! Like I would do that," Ron said, sweating. "It's, uh, nothing. Back, it's just my back. Acting up"
Hermione stared up at Ron suspiciously for moment, then shrugged and continued to lean back. "I'll find out sooner or later, you know."
"Yes dear." Ron said, stroking his wife's hair. Harry was watching the sun go down, the sky painted in orange and purple, content to think his own thoughts.
For a brief moment, Ron wondered if he should tell his friends that he might not pass the upcoming driving test. Hermione had been anticipating him getting his license, and Harry had mentioned he was thinking of taking some classes as well.
Eh, best not to tell them. Would only make them worry.
It'll be fine.
Of course, Hermione refused to accept that her job as the Minister of Magic was causing her Charmwork to get rusty, and simply complained that they needed to buy better kitchenware. Oh well, that's marriage. He checked the time left on the chicken before taking the cups out to the front porch.
"Oi, no talking shop now." He called out to Hermione and Harry, both of whom were talking very seriously over a sheet of heavily scribbled parchment. They both looked up and grinned at the full cups he was carrying. "Chicken is still cooking, but I got drinks while we wait. Ginny coming?"
"Not till later. Cheers mate." Harry snagged a cup and started chugging it down. By the time he had put it down, the cup was already slowly refilling itself. He signed. "Rough week."
"Stop! I don't want to hear about it." Ron groaned. Hermione took her own cup and snuggled up against him. "I didn't leave the Ministry to just to have you two bring it home."
"Ron, I am the Ministry." Hermione said, mock sternly. "Are you saying I should just stay at the office and never come home?"
"If you do that, me and the kids will just move in with you." Ron snorted. "Good luck getting any work done then."
Everyone chuckled at that mental image, and then fell into a comfortable silence. The sun was setting, the wind was warm, and Harry had put up the strongest wards he could to prevent any insects from reaching their food. A fairly standard Sunday evening.
Oh Merlin, Ron realized. I was supposed to go to that Driving Class today.
Driving Class. A dreaded part of the week where Ron sat in a car for one to two hours, subject to an endless tirade by his instructor as his car barely missed other cars, the pavement, pedestrians and one time, an adult Hippopotamus. Ron blamed that accidental piece of Conjuration on the fact that his instructor had been on a lecture for the past ten minutes and also because he had taken up the habit of leaving his wand in the backseat for fear of him jinxing the man one day.
And now, he would get another earful for skipping out on his appointment completely unannounced.
Hermione noticed her husband's body tensing up. "What's wrong? You forgot the chicken?"
"Hah! Like I would do that," Ron said, sweating. "It's, uh, nothing. Back, it's just my back. Acting up"
Hermione stared up at Ron suspiciously for moment, then shrugged and continued to lean back. "I'll find out sooner or later, you know."
"Yes dear." Ron said, stroking his wife's hair. Harry was watching the sun go down, the sky painted in orange and purple, content to think his own thoughts.
For a brief moment, Ron wondered if he should tell his friends that he might not pass the upcoming driving test. Hermione had been anticipating him getting his license, and Harry had mentioned he was thinking of taking some classes as well.
Eh, best not to tell them. Would only make them worry.
It'll be fine.
***
It is the dead of night.
"Dammit."
The city is sleeping.
"Damm."
Whatever moved silently through it's empty streets were things that hated the light of day and reveled in it's absence.
"Goddammit."
A category which many university students would find themselves unwillingly thrust into as the term went on. A rather special one found himself already at that stage.
"Bloody hell."
In a small, dimly lit apartment, a young man was reading from an open book and cursing at the piece of wood he was waving around. It had been hours since he had touched it to a miniature copy of the book that now lay flat on his apartment floor, and yet he still hadn't managed to work out what he was doing wrong.
"Er, ok. Lumos."
His pronunciation seemed fine. His wand movement looked perfect. So why wasn't this working?
"Fuck! Lumos!"
Later, he wasn't sure if it was his frustration boiling over or his body finally realizing what he wanted to do, but he suddenly felt something deep within in him change...and something outside changed as well.
Light.
Harsh, cold blue light slowly came into existence. It was different than regular light, fluctuating and dipping at what looked to be in random patterns.
It brought into view the assortment of empty energy drinks scattered around the floor, many of them next to open textbooks. A few of which had pictures that moved.
The young man didn't care. His eyes were fixated at the end of his wand, staring at the small sphere of shifting light at it's end. It cast his features into sharp relief, his tired, bloodshot eyes looking particularly haggard.
But at the moment, the only expression on his face was that of wild-eyed excitement.
"Let there be Light."
This would great for his utility bill.
[Title Gained: Hogwarts Distance Student]
"Dammit."
The city is sleeping.
"Damm."
Whatever moved silently through it's empty streets were things that hated the light of day and reveled in it's absence.
"Goddammit."
A category which many university students would find themselves unwillingly thrust into as the term went on. A rather special one found himself already at that stage.
"Bloody hell."
In a small, dimly lit apartment, a young man was reading from an open book and cursing at the piece of wood he was waving around. It had been hours since he had touched it to a miniature copy of the book that now lay flat on his apartment floor, and yet he still hadn't managed to work out what he was doing wrong.
"Er, ok. Lumos."
His pronunciation seemed fine. His wand movement looked perfect. So why wasn't this working?
"Fuck! Lumos!"
Later, he wasn't sure if it was his frustration boiling over or his body finally realizing what he wanted to do, but he suddenly felt something deep within in him change...and something outside changed as well.
Light.
Harsh, cold blue light slowly came into existence. It was different than regular light, fluctuating and dipping at what looked to be in random patterns.
It brought into view the assortment of empty energy drinks scattered around the floor, many of them next to open textbooks. A few of which had pictures that moved.
The young man didn't care. His eyes were fixated at the end of his wand, staring at the small sphere of shifting light at it's end. It cast his features into sharp relief, his tired, bloodshot eyes looking particularly haggard.
But at the moment, the only expression on his face was that of wild-eyed excitement.
"Let there be Light."
This would great for his utility bill.
[Title Gained: Hogwarts Distance Student]
End of Prologue
GM: Ok, first month planning coming up next. I'll need to finalize your character sheet before then, the budget and time allotment is being finicky.
The big thing you should take away from this update is that your Insightful trait isn't omnipotent; there are still things that you may miss or falsely attribute due to you not knowing the person well enough. That, and Ron's driving test is coming up. Shit's intense.
Oh, and a bit of a teaser, but I was doing some background rolls for Ashton last update and rolled for Attractiveness on a flat d100. You critted. Twice. Unfortunately, Ashton is the type that dislikes attention so he isn't that aware of it, but whenever he decides to doll himself up (like for the last update), he literally turns heads.
Last edited: